[h1][color=goldenrod]Auron Carver[/color][/h1][@Cello][@The Irish Tree][@Eisenhorn][@TGM]

The day was hot, just like every day in the wastes. The noonday sun blazes over a lone scrapyard situated just outside of the city walls of Vacuo, heat waves rising off the scalding metal like writhing serpents.  Men and women walk past the heaping piles of sheet metal, burned-out vehicles, and even a few desiccated robotics that stand as the remnants of Atlesian control of the area, completely stripped of useful parts but kept around as a sort of reminder.

Well, that and stress relief, if the numerous dents, scuffs, and holes in the frames were anything to go by.

At this time of day, the yard workers would usually be heading to the lunch hall in the center of the yard to take a load off and enjoy a meal in the relatively cool interior, but today was a bit different. Many were taking their meals outside, sitting amongst the scrap and debris to surround a medium-sized clearing of sand, muttering amongst each other as they all focused their attention on the five figures in the middle of the clearing. More than a few bets were being placed, and they were clearly eager for some kind of show to begin.

The oldest of the five figures sat on a gilded scrap heap of a motorbike, icy blue eyes burrowing into each of the 4 students before him as he took the time to slowly, methodically light a cigarette. He was dressed as one would expect of a Vacuan, practical travel clothes covered in stitching and patches that spoke of a storied history of breaks, tears, and damage. The most decorative thing about it seemed to be the lines of green that swirl around the base of his pants, seeming to shimmer just so, though it could easily just be a trick of the light. It was only after a long inhale, followed by a derisive sigh of smoke and frustration that the man decides to speak up, having been silent and judgemental the whole way to this scrapyard.

[color=goldenrod]“So. . . this is what gets past the Huntsmen exams these days, huh?”[/color] A question he didn’t bother waiting for a response to, dismounting his ride with a huff as he took another quick drag. [color=goldenrod]“Honestly, I thought Theodore had a better reason to force me into babysitting than this. . . but oh well. Boss gives an order, and I’m not eager to get hit with that right hook of his for not following it through.”[/color] 

[color=goldenrod]“That said, Is till want to get a good idea of what kind of workload I have to deal with in getting you lot into proper shape.”[/color] Walking past the group, he approaches one of the scrap piles along the edge of the clearing, shifting around the rusted metal bits until he found what he was looking for: a bit of pipe, about a foot and a half in length and somewhat flattened towards one end. He gives it a few practice swings, testing the weight a bit before seeming to nod in satisfaction. [color=goldenrod]“To that end, I’ve come up with a couple of tests. But before that, I guess we should start attaching names to faces. And do pay attention, because the people at your side are going to be watching your back. No matter how tough you think you are, no Huntsmen can stand alone forever. We have a special term in Shade for those who try it: Dead.”[/color]

Turning back around with the pipe slung over his shoulder, taking one final drag from the cigarette before flicking it onto the ground in front of him.

[color=goldenrod]“Name’s Auron, but you all will call me nothing but Sir or Overseer until you prove yourselves a bit.”[/color] As he spoke, the older man began to crack a smile, a thin grin that showed little in the way of warmth but plenty of eagerness for what was to come. [color=goldenrod]“Be prepared to hate me for the next year of your life, and likely for a decent amount of time after that as well, I’d wager. And as for your first test: as you introduce yourself, I want you to come at me with all you got. Let me see what I’m working with before we move onto the main event."[/color]
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[color=Ivory][h1]Nivea Lanatae[/h1][/color][@Asura][@WXer][@datadogie][@Hero]

The day was hot, just like every day in the wastes. As it beat down relentlessly on the desert plains, however, a small cloud of dust could be seen traveling across it, An open-top jeep cruising along a poorly defined dirt road. At its wheel, a young woman dressed in a strangely pristine white dress spun through with designs of red, light blue, and green. It was clearly made of materials finer than most of her passengers expected a Vacuan Huntress to wear, just as Nivea was likely a nicer Overseer than they had likely expected from the rumors of other students and citizens. With light blonde, hair and sky blue eyes, the woman didn’t seem that much older than the students she had been assigned. Likely feeling their gaze on her, the Huntress turns to offer the three students in the back a warm, if apologetic smile.

[color=Ivory]“Don’t worry, you all won’t have to stay all squished in the back like that for much longer. 10, 15 minutes tops I promise.”[/color] Turning her attention back to the road, after a quick check on her scroll that they were still on course to their destination, Nivea takes a moment to take a deep breath before speaking up again. Mainly to break the somewhat awkward silence, it would seem. [color=Ivory]“So, since we’ve got some time to kill. . . let’s all try to get properly acquainted, yeah? I kinda had to rush you all on since this jeep is a rental so you didn’t get to give out your names.”[/color]

[color=Ivory]“We’ll keep it simple, just give your name and something you consider to be an interesting fact about yourself. I’ll even start us off, just so no one feels too pressured.”[/color] Tapping a finger against the wheel, Nivea took a few moments to think before nodding to herself as she seemed to think of something. [color=Ivory]“As I told you guys when I picked up, my name is Nivea Lanatae. I’ve been a Huntress for about 4 years or so, and I’m the youngest to ever be granted the position of Overseer. And as a bit of an extra fact, while I was born in Vacuo, my parents are both from Vale originally. I know that I don’t quite look the part of a local, but this is my home and just because I take after my family a bit more, doesn’t mean I love it any less, harsh as it may be at times.”[/color]

[color=F0EDE4]“So, that’s me. Anyone else want to volunteer?”[/color] She cast a glance towards the student sitting across from her in the front, softly prodding them with a look to open up a bit with their fellows. [color=Ivory]“Teamwork is an important part of a Huntsmen’s life, so it’s best you start getting to know each other sooner rather than later.”[/color]