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SOLDIER Base; Residential Quarters.

By the time she had reached the vacant, steelish exterior of her domicile, Evangeline had successfully peeled and flaked away her electric polish of obnoxious pink and was gradually working to flay away the cuticles lining each plate of keratin. It was only by the abrupt realization as pain blossomed across her index finger, accompanied by the copper tang of scarlet, that she managed to pay notice to her actions. Mismatched eyes stared vacantly at the flesh sliced with the rouge of her life now offset by the tremor in her gesture when she realized then that she didn’t actually feel it —but only that she thought she did. Receptors were burned, culled, shut off like the switches of machinery and computers she had been trained to dismantle and decode. Only particular conditioning had instilled the habit to express displeasure and discomfort so as not to suspect and unnerve her comrades. The practice had been personally proffered by the pale, hellacious Commander whom expressed a similar condition, only that her receptors burned with an ecstasy and lustful kinship that labeled her as masochistic and peculiar. Evangeline had expressed crude and lewd jests, courtesy of her time spent with Hally, but the Saboteur instructor had only a ghost of a smile that was pained and yet fond and had set her into emotional drills that would benefit her in the method of unison and teamwork.

But now she realized that in personal quarters, it was a bit more difficult to discern and perform, and was briefly alarmed if James or her fellow dismantee could garner that bit of information from sharing glances with her. A firm philosophy had been instilled in Evangeline that the eyes often told anyone what they needed to know, another advantage that she possessed when bequeathed with a bi-colour stare: it left inquires to which was the truth in what someone could witness in her gaze. Hally had remarked that they were like night and day, a simplistic, common comparison, but he was only one who would really.. Know.

She shook her wealth of golden tresses, dislodging her thought process growing ever darker and quickly crossed the threshold, letting the door of her room shut with a clank that was almost too loud to her ears. Of course, she wasn’t the only one whom had to undertake the peculiar empathy courses, it was unmistakable that shock of white hair cropped so closely to his scalp that she had once inquired if it was even real, or just merely misplaced dust. She had never received an answer, not that one could be expected when he too had been attending drills and exercises meant to flex receivers of socialism. He had been present at the debriefing as well, but she pondered if anyone else noticed his slight displacement betwixt all the intensity and lashings between Commanders and President.

Evangeline doubts such a thing, but such is the grand scheme of events, and everyone is a fantastic candidate as well, gleaned from her calculating beneath the bubbly exterior and quietly engaging in games with Hally. He provided clarity when there was none to be had, and whilst she had doodled series of looping o’s and harsh x’s, she had slid her gaze individually over the assembly and left it at that until Rayne’s slicing timbre had fractured her to the bone. Most pinned him as the arrogant politician whom was endowed in a fixating vendetta against the rebellion, but to Evangeline it procured a voice and a familiar mannerism that was the pinnacle of her childhood. Such thoughts left her discombobulated and she twists sallow fingers through gold and lightly pulled, just enough to snag a few tresses free and sighed in a minute of relief.

“Okay, time to pack!”

Eagerness wove into her ritual, bouncing around, singing a random little number to the peak of her lung capacity as she fished, pillaged and rummaged through her personal belongings. Golden trinkets were shaken from wrists and ankles, exchanged for the golden accessory that fitted over her ear like the rays of a sun burst but sharpened and refined like gilded beams of yellow daggers. Her traditional garb was shed gradually with her mental deduction of the proper gear and essentials she might require whilst on this mission. It was their first, official assignment and already tension had laced tight around the selected troupe and Evangeline knew that even her bequeathed mission wouldn’t go finished without some kind of flaw; as there was always one.

Whilst elbow deep in the recesses of her closet, a small chirp signaled for her attention, flying away the dame from her browsing to fumble for the device always woven into a secret depress in her uniform. With a small grimace at the fitting suit that was designed for Saboteurs, she slid fingers into the nook of mesh and fortified nylon that was interlaced with metallic fibers to further backbone the assemblage. The pad was small, plain in the aesthetic prose, but withheld a wealth of capabilities that she knew in every possible way. A series of codes and numbers blossomed to life in pixelated form, shimmering hues of azure and white bleeding together to form into ebony words that relayed a message of dismissive simplicity that hardly required her answer. Evangeline though felt a fine tremor curl down the marrow of her spine, forging slivers of obsidian ice that balled into a sphere of a premonition.

She really hated secrets.

Though a Saboteur was fostered on secrets and codes and various uniforms of dismantling affairs and breaking down the components of enemies — and sometimes: allies, Evangeline only found the procedure of battle to be enjoyable and favourable. Most of the details and nuances of the particular infiltrator bled out into seamless dribble unless the techniques came to fruition, and whilst her Commander had paid special practice to ensure her full capabilities by emotional tempering and patience drills - she still found struggles within bedlam of secrets. But, this was her designated path and occupation and sometimes lies fortified over the lies of the truth benefited an individual in the finality of the juncture, and it was in that she found some sort of peace, that and in the bereavement of her enemies.

Her vendetta was not quite on par with Rayne’s blind want of persecution and subjugation, but something fixated Evangeline in a will to force surrender upon the opposition and she had always been incapable of cajoling that viperous intent. Simulations against SeeR Syph machines and their own unified force of Paragon fighters had garnered a brutality in her attacks and deployment of such and the explosive nature in which Evangeline fought. Ruthlessness did not even begin to describe her method and as such, they attempted to curtail her anger. And that was often what they attempted daily to the spirit of Evangeline Dashelle, to temper and siphon off her emotions, her erratic behaviors and her interchanging depths of empathy. Numbness corded tight in her fingers as she finished her assembly of gear and began pouring into her armour, latching and finishing each of the zippers and buckling components into proper function. The numbness didn’t dispel until she had sheathed her fingers in the uniform gloves, flexing each digit until the fortified mesh and thin, yet strong, plating coated over her knuckles passed into unnoticeable.

Umbra came next, already delivered from its’ ritual maintenance and her receipt dropped off with the delivery to be filed later. Within its shortest form, it slid easily into the components along her spine that acted as a harness that was pressure activated, otherwise it held Umbra in a vice so much that the weight of her weapon went almost unheeded. Satisfied with her battle sprucing, Evangeline began coiling her hair into a plait and then coiling that into a knot that almost immediately came loose, golden threads fringing her brow and ears. She forwent the traditional helm of the Saboteur uniform, optioning instead for the cloak—hood that the opposite gender was bequeathed. Then, attaching her communication advice to her ear that was shelled with her golden accessory that also was designed with a holographic visor that had direct link to the Libra Scan database, and performed a series of basic functions that came with all SOLDIERS in their assigned fatigues and armour.

Not much time remained she debated and couldn’t assuage away the ill premonition that was still festering at her spine in a coil of tines. With a soft glance she immediately dug into her duffel and palmed a series of pills past her lips, the number staggering, and each drug designed to filter and temper herself from the unfurling and fraying nerves of her emotions already beginning to spark alive in series of erratic pulses. Evangeline inhaled once her pills were ingested, feeling the beginning of the narcotics to pull apart and dissolve and take effect.

“All right, here we go!” She chirped and bounded from her room, allowing the lock to depress into place and a skip to take over her steps as she bounded down the hall and towards the deployment gate, the darkness already beginning to ebb.




SOLDIER Base; Council Halls.

Outside the Council Room, the Commanders had parted ways, each with a designation in mind and relayed through glances and series of gestures that were quickly executed and hardly intercepted by the passing parties. Magdalena retreated back to her office, preparing a return transmission and a potential virus laced within its works that she would supply to her SOLDIERS, but the obvious performance of someone clearing a throat behind her gave her pause, allowing the individual in question to step up at her flank.

“Olivia, something the matter?” She inquired, unexpectedly feeling the fine tremors of anxiety break threshold on her body, brought on by the brunette’s leveling stare.

“What do you think of the SOLDIERS we’re sending out?” The brunette inquired, assuming their departure away from the Council Room as the individuals in question began filtering out one by one. Icy pools landed on the bounce of blonde cheer and exuberance that quickly was called aside by the SOLDIER with ashen skin and red eyes. Watching them make way down the hall, arms laced, made her answering voice carry off.

“They each have promising potential, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit worried...”

Olivia followed her shattering gaze, finding the subjects in her questioning observation.

“That’s the girl from Fort Lullin?”

“Yes.”

“And the boy..”

“His records are a little.. Hazy. They all have cryptic files in fact, detailing their places of origin, but not quite laying into the relatives and the location of their families. I’ve scoured through and it only details into how SOLDIER found them, as if all other information and critical basement is null and void when it comes to that SOLDIER managed to get them.” Magdalena muttered, keeping her articulation pitched and low, privy to only Olivia’s senses.

“So any facts that we actually have could be nothing more than falsified records?”

“Exactly, their names might not even be there own names and just supplied designations to placate and direct us to look else where in concerns to those files and their pasts.” Magdalena hedged, running slender gestures over the nape of her neck, unable to still the quake of nerves bundling there and numbing across frayed nerves and trembling muscles.

“It makes me wonder if our own files are just as bare or if the names we know are actually our own.”

Olivia seemed disturbed by this revelation, cinching phalanges around the breadth of her throat to mute the gasp that threatened to carve way from her heaving breast.
“They’re hiding something.” She muttered, soft and teeming with a fearful dawn of the unknown and the facility of, potentially, their own existence.

“And I’ll bet the SeeR knows exactly what.”







SOLDIER Base; Deployment Gate.

There wasn’t much distance to the deployment dock and already others had gathered, she being one of the remaining few having yet to arrive. Evangeline took stock of her fellow Saboteur already there, deciding not to join him so as to avoid any suspicion on their mission and part in it together. Others appeared to keep to themselves and her eyes honed in on the face plate of a unique set of armour, finding it curious, but unable to commit to her desire of inquires when Hally’s voice reached her. She smiled and bounded up to him like an energetic pup.

”Who is Honeybun now?” Evangeline quipped, slinging arms around Hally’s torso and peeking around his elbow to level a grin at the gargantuan man that went under the name of Kain. An intimidating man in his own right and stature, Evangeline knew not much about him, aside from name and profile identification. They were leagues apart in differences of battle tactics and weaponry, the massive sword enough testimony to that fact. Her face scrunched up in a teasing grin, finding the newly given nickname hilarious and yet.. Fitting.

“Honeybun, I kind of like it. Of course that’s Hally’s personal name for you! Too bad, maybe he’ll let me borrow it from time to time.” She mused, almost whisking off into a tangent when the Commanders once more interrupted her.

It was only two of them this time, the one whom had scolded her earlier curiously absent along with the Dr. Faye. Evangeline slowly disbanded her arms from embracing Hally and faced them full on with the gathered force. It was only then she noticed the new addition to their ranks who had not been present during the Council, she almost spoke aloud, to inquire after his induction and intention when Commander Abendroth-Faye spoke up, silencing all and summoning her full attention.

“It appears we have a new face joining us,” she began and gestured to the man Evangeline knew nothing of. No identification number, no details she could even discern with his particular armour and stature. It unnerved her terribly and by shifting weight in her plated feet, she signaled her discomfort and worry by agilely penning the cipher into her data module, there was no time to send the missive just yet, however. Uncertain of the man’s intention, she once more turned attention to her Commander and rolled her weight back into a casual stance and crossed her arms at her breast, dispelling her jitters whilst her medication was still attempting to placate her.

“By Rayne’s orders he is to join you on this particular mission, just like any other SOLDIER, but his experience with previous missions caught the President’s attention, thus you’ll have some idea of what SeeR is like through SOLDIER Olsen’s.. Knowledge.” There was obvious discomfort laced tight into her voice, offset by the dull tones of chiming bells as she pinned John with her unwavering stare of near—crystalline blue brimming with a silent warning. Evangeline perked up at that look, so obviously displayed, and almost bounced into place as she leaned forward, also glancing at this man once more before glancing to Hally, to gain his own expression.

“Now each of you have been assigned a holographic visor that has been equipped also with a communication device to communicate with each other and to also keep in touch with the base. The further you branch out, the more difficult signals are to gain, however we have towers set up through Galbadia to ensure minimal interference. There are a series of channels for you to relay information on and your Saboteurs will give these to you once each of the channels have been gleaned and secured so to avoid SeeR hackers from listening in.” The pale Commander held up an exemplary piece of technology in which she described, pin-pointing the keys designated to pass through channels.

“Through the visor you have a direct link to the Libra Scan system that provides information on each of the beasts and creatures we are aware of. Unknown enemies can be scanned but limited information can be taken from them, however, as your battles carry on the system updates automatically, even on the unknown species.”

The visor in question was blue in her grasp, though each of the SOLDIERS possessed ones in varying hues of vermilion. Evangeline tapped the various keys on her piece and watched the minuscule screen light up over her occulus, varying lines and digital frequencies highlighting the Libra Scan system coming online with the expansive network that it was. When she glanced over everyone in the group, she was given a wealth of numbers and details, all basic information in regards to their capabilities in weaponry and classes and giggled from the sheer joy and amazement of it all. She had no idea the Libra Scan had been dragged out of Beta when she had first heard of its’ concept in her Commanders coding drills.

Loud whines and clanks of metal shifted then, signaling the yawning maw of the deployment gate cranking open. Fluorescent bulbs winked into existence, shining across metal and momentarily blinding Evangeline as the ground trembled, signaling the arrival of one of the bases massive terrain vehicles meant for transferring a plethora of SOLDIERS across vast and short distances. The Behemoth of metal was intimidating to say the least, massive wheels and ebony metal fused together into various spikes of definite defensive prowess and rotating guns poised on top flashed definite offense. Accompanying the gargantuan machine was the basic unit of deployment: ten grunt foot soldiers — common army infantry — and five lieutenants with two drivers who operated the vehicle. Each bore a common face plate, making them appear.. Less human to Evangeline’s eyes, impersonal and void. She gave them dismissive looks as the hatch to the Behemoth whined open on hydraulics, providing a ramp of access into the bulky interior.

“Make us proud, SOLDIERS.” The Commanders said in unison, signaling the start of the mission as Evangeline chirped and skipped upwards on the ramp, ascending into the belly of the beast with an obtuse grin blazoned across her visage.


Aboard the Behemoth; near the border.

The beginning journey from Dalmasca was quiet, on first impressions. The humming and rumbling engine of the Behemoth was the only source of sound, aside from the various signals transferred through the numerous screens paneled inside the vehicle to scan the landscapes and the ensure their location as they traversed through the remaining state of Baldur. Each of the SOLDIERS were buckled into place by harnesses equipped with their seats, settled next to one another or set apart by their preference with their gear shoved above them in the designed cubicles of criss-crossing netting and metal — easy to access.

One particular blonde was busily typing into her pad, fluid movements shimmering blue as she busily embarked into her own network, making notes and key details, with her legs pulled up and laced together in her seat, she almost appeared at ease. Her cloak—hood was down, exposing most of her veener aside from the bit that was obscured by the falling tresses of gold escaping from the plaited design, but she paid little mind to it. As her thumb punched one final component, she turned off the module, retreating it back into the sleeve of her fitting uniform. Bi —coloured eyes passed over each individual before she let out a small hum, letting it whistle until she finally spoke up.

“Sooo. I don’t think we all know one another. I mean, I know all of you - your numbers you know - but I like to be given names.” Evangeline probed, baiting for some conversation as one of the drivers announced they were coming upon the border check-point that would put them into Luan in a matter of minutes.

“Introduction are in order I’d say! I’m Evangeline Dashelle, one of your lovely Saboteurs.”
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Kefka Palazzo
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Kefka Palazzo - - - - -

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Cidolphus Escovane

Twenty Seven | 15, September | 6’0” | First Class
“They’re watching you die, and when you’re gone it’s like you weren’t even there…“


Aboard the Behemoth; near the border.



The knife flips in deft hands. A flick of his wrist, the blade flips rapidly in the air, snatched up by Cid’s quick, agile hands, a small rotation to adjust it in his hands, and again, it’s borne into the air. It was something he saw the guard doing, standing by the door, toying with a standard issue boot knife, much like the one Cid was flipping now. He watched the maneuver, memorized the motions of his hands and fingers, and by the time the blonde two rows up spoke, Cid had already mastered the skill. The blade glinted in the light, as the grip found itself into his palm again, and he tucked it back into its sheath inside his right boot. He had been observing the group, taking notes of who, and what, these people are. In his mind, they seemed rather ragtag, an odd decision by the elites, to send so many untried and seemingly mismatched individuals on a mission of, if President Rayne was to be believes, significant interest. Many of them had no significant fields experience, a lot of theory and training, with no practical expertise. A late addition would seem to confirm that the President at least was thinking along the same lines, but even that felt somewhat… off. Magdalena seemed particularly interested in the mission, in finding this traitor, why had she not come along then? Of course she was an elite, and perhaps he was simply misreading the mission, and the importance of it: could be this venture was simply beneath her… but the emotional tension between her and Rayne during the briefing, and the little gathering held in the aftermath told him otherwise.

But Cid wasn’t sure what to do about it, at least, not yet.

“My name is Cidolphus Escovane,” Cid spoke, leaning forward in his seat, placing his hands together before him, as though he were engaging himself in the conversation. His eyes met with those of the young, blond Saboteur, and for a moment he was weighing the reactions in those bi-colored eyes. Of course she knew what he was, having been identified by Magdalena at the meeting she held with the pair of them, but who he was, what he was capable of, that was still a mystery; as her capabilities were for him. She seems insignificant, too excitable and too light headed to be of any real significance, but earlier consideration of that fact has lead him to believe some hidden value lies within. He could play the part as well, be whatever he deemed needed… perhaps she was simply doing the same. His lips curled into a plain, simple grin. “The second saboteur.”

Then he fell silent, immediately disengaging from the conversation. He settled back into his seat again, pulled the boot knife back from its sheath, and resumed flipping. His eyes stared forward, lost somewhere between the twirling blade and the tip of his nose, as his attention recedes into his thoughts. They are young, inexperienced, new. There are so many of them, thus they are either walking into a force much larger than they were lead to believe, or the mission is to simply overwhelm the problem – hardly Soldier’s leading tactic. Perhaps they were something of an offering… lambs sent to slaughter. His mind circled around the possibilities, working hard on picking out the truth. He couldn’t operate of blind faith, couldn’t handle the fact that he was there simply because he was told to do so. He had to have understanding. Had to know why.

His eyes flecked to the blonde sparrow again.

And what of her decision? Will she protect the defect, or does she follow the President’s decree? If that should come to a head, which side of things would she be on? Was she even capable of making that decision yet? After all, Cid hasn’t come to his own conclusion. Magdalena meant little to him, but his interactions with her brought him more respect towards her than he had for Rayne. Were it to come to a decision, a picking of sides, of course, he would choose Magdalena. But his loyality to her wasn’t so iron clad that he’d risk an incident in which he was in opposition of a superior force of Soldiers. If that were to be the most likely outcome, than logic and common sense both dictate that he should bow to the President’s wishes. A decision Cid cannot make on the available information. He’d have to make it in the moment, and hope he doesn’t arrive at the conclusion too late.

He wanted to ask. Wanted to talk with her about it, at least to know what she was thinking, but that would mean revealing it to the others. That he decided he didn’t wish to do. Perhaps it would lead him to know earlier, but he didn’t expect honesty from them, nor should they expect it of him. He would be more at risk to receive a dagger in the back from a comrade, if it was known that this whole venture could possibly turn into an incident of friendly fire. After all, were he in their position, that’s exactly what he would do. Why gamble with trust, when eliminating the problem could ensure you aren’t betrayed.

Cid flipped the dagger again, and let his mind silence as he listened to the growling hum of the Behemoth.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Wade Wilson
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Wade Wilson bruh.

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———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
SOLDIER Base; Deployment Dock Four
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

John had gone unflinchingly as the Commander had turned around to look at him with an ice cold glare. One of the ways you could tell an experienced SOLDIER from an inexperienced SOLDIER was their glare. Inexperienced SOLDIERS’ glares were still icy and cruel, but they showed emotion. Be it anger, hate, or annoyance, it showed up on them like a giant, bleeding wound. Experienced SOLDIERS glares were emotionless, and at the point where it was as if their eyes were slowly turning a pure, crystalline white, like a shard of ice. And then there were the Elite’s glares. When an Elite glared at you, and you looked into their eyes, it was a harsh, unforgiving tundra, and you could feel the world around you turn freezing cold. For some, it was also as if time stopped, and you could feel the goosebumps form on your skin.

However, John was used to all of these glares. The tundra was normal for him, as he’d stared into it too many times before. All he did was stare back, with his dead, dim, eyes, hearing the gears grind and tick in the Sentinel Commander’s head. The Commander had every right to feel something off, definitely - those who kept up with what happened in these walls knew of John the moment he became Rayne’s dog. But, John could also sense a slight bit of doubt, albeit faint.

“No. I’m not ‘all right’ with it,” the Commander said, after a long segment of the two simply glaing at each other, “but it doesn’t matter how I feel about it, does it? You’re going anyways.”

The man’s tone of voice made another Elite - if John recalled zher name correctly, Kimberly Faye - to look at him for a brief moment, before looking quizzically at John. Then, a silence was cast upon the group. One that gave a chance for John to look around at all the faces that were staring at him. It was mainly just the Elites, with their spark of protectiveness, a certain longing for understanding of everyone in the room. That was a wish he gladly wouldn’t fulfill. He ended up just flicking between the faces for a while, memorizing them, and the emotions (if any) they were showing, until there came a voice, out of the blue.

“Hey, YOU, funny guy! Tell me a good joke?”

The voice broke the silence, but instead brought down a plethora of awkwardness. Surprisingly, it was the Commander that put an end to that.

“Don’t you get it?” he placed a hand on the acclaimed funny guy’s back, “He IS the joke.”

John ignored the rest of their ramblings, but took note of two pet names - the Commander’s being “Ghost”, and funny guy’s being “Al”. Al stuffed Ghost’s mouth with the dessert they were presumably squabbling about before, before the Elite walked off and purposefully bumped into John. However, with the SOLDIER being in his armour, it didn’t affect him. He just stared as Ghost walked off into the corridors, before realising he was heading the way that John had come. Just as he was about to sneak after him, Kimberly stopped him in his tracks, apologising for Ghost’s attitude. Apparently he was zher brother.

”Thank you.” John said, though the absence of emotion in his voice showed he didn’t really give a damn. Zhe either didn’t notice this or didn’t care zherself, but, regardless, zhe hurried off after zher brother. Funny guy took it upon himself to start blabbering again. John decided to take in what he was saying, though he’d never understand why.

“Huh… Well then, we haven’t introduced ourselves have we?” He smiled, “As Funshine ingeniously deduced, my true name is ‘You Funny Guy,’ but people usually don’t believe me when I say that, so go ahead and remember me as Henri.”

Henri then turned to John, and began to look at the man, as though he were searching for something inside of him. The SOLDIER immediately put up a mental block, so that there’d be nothing for the ‘funny guy’ to see. His head tilted back and forth in thought, until he eventually gave up.

“Uh, you’ll have to forgive me, Mr. Olsen. I need more time to come up with a nickname for you.” Henri said. John took note of the fact he already knew his name, concluding that he merely knew of Rayne’s dog.

”Yeah, good luck with that.” Olsen muttered, walking off back to his corner. He watched the entrance as a mountain of a man walked in, rolling his eyes. Having big muscles wasn’t enough, the guy actually needed to know how to use them. And, as he had his squabble with Henri, he figured that wasn’t the only thing he needed to know how to use. The squabble didn’t take that long, with both of them saying equally idiotic things to the other, but it ended with the mountain walking away, defeated, and now called “Honeybun”. John did have to give Henri some credit - that was clever, even for an idiot. A chirpy, young, blonde girl piped in with her own praises, too. All the SOLDIER could do was look her up and down and wonder how on Earth she got onto the mission. She was then interrupted by Ghost, who was joined by another Elite - Commander Magdalena Abendroth-Faye. He was actually surprised that Ghost was possibly the only Commander whose name he didn’t know. But, it seemed like Magdalena had more information on the mission, so John stood straight and at full attention, listening to what she had to say.

“It appears we have a new face joining us,” she gestured to the face in question - John. This caused the young blonde to look at him briefly, before turning her attention back. His gaze remained upon the Commander speaking, so he could only catch the blonde’s actions if they were in his peripheral vision. “By Rayne’s orders he is to join you on this particular mission, just like any other SOLDIER, but his experience with previous missions caught the President’s attention, thus you’ll have some idea of what SeeR is like through SOLDIER Olsen’s.. knowledge.” The Commander showed obvious discomfort, looking at John with her crystalline-blue eyes. Her stare interpreted into a warning, one that was riddled with doubt, confusion, and weariness. Regardless, she broke eye contact and continued. “Now each of you have been assigned a holographic visor that has been equipped also with a communication device to communicate with each other and to also keep in touch with the base. The further you branch out, the more difficult signals are to gain, however we have towers set up through Galbadia to ensure minimal interference. There are a series of channels for you to relay information on and your Saboteurs will give these to you once each of the channels have been gleaned and secured so to avoid SeeR hackers from listening in.”

John glanced at the visor he had in his hand, which was a deep shade of vermillion, before putting it on. While he waited for his eyes to adjust, he placed full attention back onto Magdalena, of whom was demonstrating how to use it. She pointed to the main keys required. “Through the visor you have a direct link to the Libra Scan system that provides information on each of the beasts and creatures we are aware of. Unknown enemies can be scanned but limited information can be taken from them, however, as your battles carry on the system updates automatically, even on the unknown species.”

There then came loud grates and clanks of metal, and John looked towards the deployment gate, which was now creaking open. It allowed a bright light to flood in, which caused him to shield his eyes with his hand and squint, before the ground trembled. Unlike the young, bubbly girl, John remained still, creating the illusion of being glued to the ground. He watched the Behemoth roll in, like he had countless times before, slowly walking forward in soldier-like marches. “Make us proud, SOLDIERS.” The Commanders said in unison, before John marched up the ramp, just behind the energetic blonde.



———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Aboard the Behemoth; Near the Border
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

John was sitting quietly on the end, away from everyone else, quite satisfied with the rumbling of the Behemoth’s wheels, and the humming of the engine, when the blonde from before chirped up. He could barely hear the driver announcing they were nearing the border. He was glad of that - he wouldn’t be able to stand talking to anyone for more than a few minutes.

“Sooo. I don’t think we all know one another. I mean, I know all of you - your numbers you know - but I like to be given names. Introductions are in order I’d say! I’m Evangeline Dashelle, one of your lovely Saboteurs.” Evangeline announced, exhibiting an annoying amount of chirpiness. They were going to kill SeeR, not get a fucking pedicure. Much to John’s pleasure, someone else snagged the opportunity to introduce themselves before him.

“My name is Cidolphus Escovane. The second saboteur.” The man said. John looked in his direction. He’d never actually noticed Cidolphus before - unlike the rest of them, he seemed rather collected, and not the kind of one to draw attention to himself. John liked that.

Since nobody else seemed like they were going to speak anytime soon (probably due to John’s presence), he took it upon himself to introduce himself. Maybe it’d squeeze some information out of them.

”I don’t care what you’ve heard about me, or if you already know my name,” he looked specifically at Henri when he said this, ”but you’ll know me as Olsen, and only Olsen. Feel free to give me whatever code name, or nickname, you like, if it helps your little brains to fathom the seemingly impossible task of following a single instruction.”

Satisfied, he sat back, placing his hands behind his head casually. ”Now don’t bother me until we get there. It gives you more time to decide whether or not I’ll care about any questions you have.” He slid his eyes along the roster one last time, remembering their faces, and putting the two names he knew to their own faces, before zoning out to the sound of the vehicle bumping around on the terrain underneath them.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Raijinslayer
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Raijinslayer .

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James Lockehart, The Belly of the Beast


"Hmmm, well said," James spoke up in response to John's introduction, his voice deeper and distorted while in his armor(a feature added to help give him a greater air of intimidation). He would've liked the man, if it wasn't for the fact that he was here on the orders of Rayne, which meant he was hear to stop them from taking the deserter in alive. I'll probably have to fight against him, more likely than not. He's more experienced than anyone here, but given the proper circumstances, I might be able to take him on. Hopefully, the need for such action doesn't present itself. . . Heh, yeah right. JAmes smiled underneath hs mask, thinking over everything they had been told, as well as the features of this Libra system, which he'd spent the last few minutes messing around with, testing it on all of the available SOLDIER's and running against his own for knowledge to check accuracy. So far, it was pretty damn accurate and it was impressive how fast the information came up. After a small moment of silence, he looked around to see that no one else seemed to be introducing themselves, so he decided that he might as well get on with his own.

"James Lockehart, designation of Ravager, so if you need someone torn into bloody chunks, than I would be the guy to do it." He reached around to the back of his head, fiddling with something in the back before he continued to speak, his voice now coming out clearly and undistorted. While he didn't mind it that much, he wanted to avoided causing any unneeded discomfort before the mission. "Sorry, voice changer's supposed to make me more intimidating in combat. Also, Olsen was it, a word of advice when dealing with Henri. The more you try to dissuade him from anything, the more likely he is to do it. So it's best to just not address or notice his presence whenever it's unnecessary to do so." James gave a slight nod of his head, before he sank back into his seat, closing his eyes as he intended to rest and ignore Henri until they arrived at their destination. By that he meant resting, of course. Ignoring Henri was just standard procedure for him on most days, as it was the best way to get the man child from bothering him.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Komo
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Komo Chill vibes MKII

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Onboard the Behemoth


Upon receiving the answer of her requested joke, it was to her amusement that the joke instead was Henri himself. Beatrice chuckled, as she waited for the ride that was supposed to pick them up for the journey to the mission location. Their ride came soon enough, a cacophony of loud whines and clanks of metal as the heavy steel gates began to open. Warning lights began to light and spin, signalling the fact that the gates were in operation. The massive machines came into view, the behemoth projecting an intimidating appearance and presence to those that were present. her. Beatrice didn't know about the rest, but this gigantic hulk of metal, bristling with guns was definitely intimidating to her.

The hatch of the vehicle opened with the whizz and hiss of hydraulics, and her fellow team mates began filling its interior. Once she had settled comfortably into a seat herself, Beatrice placed her helmet in her lap as she began looking through her pad, with the occasional finger swipe here and there. Here boredom was interrupted as the other blonde girl broke the silence of the cabin with an introduction and a question. She wanted to get to know her team mates and that was plenty fine with her. She would like to get to know them as well.

So the other blonde was called Evangeline, and she was one of the two Saboteurs. Beatrice took note of the girl's highly excitable self, and had to struggle to keep herself under control. If she were to get as excitable as the girl she now knew as Evangeline, the behemoth would explode with exuberance. And she doubt that the rest of them would be happy with such a scenario. Beatrice was preparing to introduce herself, but her attempt was interrupted by not one, but three guys. Too slow bitch. The first, introduced himself as Cidolphus and the dark-haired chap was to be their other Saboteur. So that was their two Saboteurs. Evangeline and Cidolphus.

Oh the next one, puzzled her. This guy was a real piece of work, he introduced himself as Olsen, and only Olsen. He sounded like a typical douche and acted like they were second-class citizens. What? Does he not have a first name or something? He even asked for them to feel free to give him any nicknames. The nerve. She nearly uttered 'How does Douche-bag sound?' but merely clenched her teeth to avoid doing so. The third guy was known as James and he was a Ravager, the same as her. Beatrice gave him a look, before facing towards the group lest she get interrupted once more. "I'm Beatrice Delacour, and you can simply call me 'Bea' for short. I'm a Ravager as well." She then gave a brief wave to everyone, but extending a smile as well to the other blondie.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Noxious
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Noxious ᴅ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ ish

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_____________________________________________________________________________

Aboard the Behemoth; near the border.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Her naturally pale pink lips had remained pursed around an expression that seemed devoid of any interface for the entirety of the day passed; unmoving so that her vocal cords felt a chill of neglect from her conscious train of thought. She couldn’t properly recall now the last time she had spoken. The few words that danced across her ego were brushed aside, replaced with an abundance of information and stimulation affirming the imposition of silence. The mindset hadn’t very far to venture to take her polestar back to the ridge top; a coaxing of self to recede and coalesce with the generally static environment. All the otherness that did not retreat with her in this hazy dreamscape of stagnant matter garnered a calculating cynosure that piqued and darted with an untrusting focus. The gunmetal lined eyes took in those around her, their mannerisms, their voices and little quirky inclinations. It was the peak of her training to excel in this modus operandi; observation, the hunt, watching, waiting - distant and invisible.

Truth be told, she was having a difficult time settling since the briefing. She felt no fear, excitement- had she been less trained, less the soldier paradigm, she would have welcomed these minor annoyances, but as it stood the assemblage had been less than apt. Her departure and the time subsequent had left her unamused and dubious at their leadership and the accord of her fellow SOLDIERs. While this may be her first operation with SOLDIER, there were plenty of tattoos and scars crawling across sun caressed skin, peeking out from beneath the utilitarian long sleeves and dark messy braid, answering unasked questions about a shadier induction and encompassing lessons about jobs well done, and failed; the hastily scribbled prison tag given to the poverty youth in and out of the system.

Leaders were not a foreign concept that she failed to grasp due to upbringing, much the opposite. Leaders should be above squabbling, above being questioned. When a leader is questioned, then there is no end to the questions. It opens a faucet that cracks a damn and soon chaos rains down. In her opinion this was not the type of collective you wanted feeding into their own questions. Questioning begets chaos like the crooked smile of the Charon harkens the solidity of death. But maybe she was overthinking; maybe chaos and death were exactly the team building exercise they needed.

Either way it went, here she found herself in the safe womb of mechanized war. Her eyes were drifting amongst her wombmates, fluttering behind mirrored shades that she had pulled down when they entered the beast. She'd been dozing on and off, but she allowed her conscious to settle on their voices as the somewhat tense introductions were being made. She let her fluttering gaze be captured by the late addition for a bit longer than the rest; her eyebrows moved along with her eyes, the only indication she was sizing him up.

The Elites wanted rebels brought in and the President wanted them killed. It may come down to personal judgment, which, as it turns out, she was not recruited out of jail for having possessed. She also wasn’t trained as a sniper for the business of bag and question. The oneness she felt curled against the cold metal death was not offering the promise of time to eek out tortured answers or redemption. That time has passed. Would she be the ally of the tough talking one man team? A "hmph" came out, almost like a snort that she disguised as clearing her throat.

She tapped two of her spider-like digits, wrapped in thin black glove, against the R-36 Particle Rifle that was nestled across her lap like a safety blanket. Talking to no one in particular she added her name into the mix. “Dach Moxolovi,” she pronounced it like datch, “ Sniper.” She seemed to smile a little at herself, though it was only because she had forgotten how much she enjoyed the lazy cold sweetness of her own voice; she sounded like such an asshole.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Rockette
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Rockette && 𝚊 𝚕 𝚙 𝚑 𝚊

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Aboard the Behemoth — Luan Checkpoint.

She felt the weight of earthen pools descend over her form, attempting to flay her apart at the seams, riddled with a myriad of unspoken inquires and depths of curiosity; trying to bait and hedge the exuberance of her mind often lain with thatches of never ending cheer and bright temperament. And she equally shared the burden, fixating her mismatched stare onto her fellow Saboteur. Poising his name into memory aside a sequence of particular numbers and letters and gradually shifted, performing a similar examination whilst the vibrating tempo of the massive vehicle drummed thickly onto perked ears. She pondered on the simplicity of his gaze, and yet the crossings of complexity and small additions of shadowed reflection there, her head canted, and something else that could not be placed. For a moment, brief and concise, she saw peerless blue invading into the depths of her own stare before the crystalline illusion faded into the richest of browns known to Viera soil compounds. Gradually, her chin disengaged from being cradled in the slope of her palm, and alarm flashed across the expense of her bi—coloured eyes before the next introductions followed in pursuit of Cidolphus’s silence.

She didn’t know why, but for the rest of the journey, she wouldn’t be able to meet his eyes again.

Partially disturbed by the previous faux azure she had witnessed, if she had actually seen it — for who was to be certain — Evangeline eagerly lanced at the next opportunity to learn more about the impromptu addition and found his answering glower and phrase of words less than satisfactory.

All that bluster; there has to be something he’s hiding.

Evangeline found the dismissive tone that coated his voice thick into being broadcast as superior and perhaps a bit waspish wasn’t so much as ill—favouring and even bitter. But purposeful, a sort of peacock display of Alpha theories and mannerisms to shy away from the truth laden within his soul. He’s not cruel, just misplaced, she thought. However, from the brief glimpse she passed over to Hally, perhaps ruthlessness and the reputation to testify such was enough to dissuade further prying when she parted her lip to inquire for his full name. It’s not your name, she almost despaired, unsettled by the lack of revealing to his full moniker, and immediately her face fell from her perpetual smirk. She definitely could not trust him now, and perhaps that would ultimately be for the best, if his immediate actions were enough to glean from. A subtle shift in her weight, one leg uncrossing from her fold and landing firmly on the grated floor of the Behemoth was enough to illustrate her sudden discomfort as the ligament began to bounce, pivoted by her arched heel and the meshed boot of her armour to blend in with the drone of the engine.

James’ voice, distorted but recognizable from her previous conversation with him, blended in with the peculiar buzzing settling inside her mind. No longer paying attention to the introductions of her fellow warriors, a twitch wove its’ way into the pattern of her fingers, sheathed digits flexing and expanding continuously until the muscles ached into a numbness that began to spiral down to her wrists. Rolling the joints individually, she wove dexterous gestures together, steepling the nylon and then thrust outward, cracking her fingers with a satisfying pop that vibrated up the length of her arm. She didn’t feel it, but the theory into the action was enough to dispel her jittering disturbance and finally gave peace to her peculiar anxiety.

You’re fine, this is fine. We’re fine.

She found her solace in the smile from the accompanying blonde, catching the shortened nickname just as she came to from her stupor. A similar simper bloomed across her face, bright and swathed in a friendly offer — she’d get along well with her! Excitement in the possibility of a new mutual confident — as not everyone had to be a tragically brooding or laced too tight with directive — swept her high into cheer and her previous actions seemed far beyond her now as her eyes fell onto a disarrayed plait with ink laced elegantly over fair skin. She would’ve missed the introduction had she not been drawn to the settlement of her weapon nestled across her thighs. Evangeline’s head canted to the side, gathering her observation and witnessing the eclipse of numbers and letters across her mind in basic calculations. Sniper, huh.

The following series of names made her swell with happiness, each of the personal callings banking into memory until she was practically humming with her pleasure. The drivers called back to them, announcing that they were through the check point clearance and entering into Luan. She eagerly bounced in her seat, glancing at the paneled screens the best she was able as the landscapes of Baldur, dotted with smaller settlements eclipsed by the capital, eventually bled into the paler foliage of Luan. Fields expanded ahead, dotted with sparse forestry that seemed oppressed by the Esper Mountains to the East that curved through the entire state and led up into Esper Ridge.

Her shell lips parted into an awed expression, bi—coloured eyes eagerly and glimmering to capture the video feed as the scanners rotated to examine over their journey, the mountains being the most beautiful thing she had seen. These were not snow—capped beaks that were malicious peaks of ice and stone like the mountains she knew in Junon, but softer mounds that ridged into a slight bend. Though they were considerably a distance away, Evangeline could just imagine the atmosphere of the world beyond the womb of the Behemoth’s cavernous insides.

If only. . .




Aboard the Behemoth — Luan Fields.

The travel through Luan was short compared to the previous excursion through leaving Baldur and the excitement was almost too much to bear as they came closer, and closer to their destination. Once into Zalera, they’d be continuing the final leg of the journey, transported halfway through the tundra state by the Behemoth before it would stop and allow them to embark on foot to Mrihl. To avoid SeeR spies, they’d be traveling under the blanket of night, guided by the night-occulus system programmed into their visors. Evangeline leaned against Hally, muttering to him silently — which to the girl, was a regular cadence of her usual voice — about traveling on foot when one of the Lieutenants suddenly entered into the main hatch and began busily penning into the panels of the Behemoth. A radar focused into attention, earning the glance of the cheerful blonde as she unbuckled from her harness and approached the panel with a curiously tipped head as the man let out a loose string of curses.

“Something the matter?” She chirped her inquiry, glancing at the circular module that blinked and updated routinely with the bright line spanning the diameter of the screen. A series of dots bloomed to life every time, signals picked up the routine scanners: there were two clumps of them, three located closer to the location of the Behemoth and another cluster just North of them and descending rapidly. Evangeline peered in closer as the Lieutenant depressed a switch and the focus of the panel changed, interchanging to a proper view of the landscape as the Behemoth came to a slow halt, hissing and clanking with machinery whirring into stagnation as the drivers placed it into park.

Hyper speculation cameras whirred into action, locating a trio of armoured individuals that appeared worn and haggled, obviously battered by the elements and something more by the condition of their armour. The Lieutenant muttered something into the microphone shelled near his lips and paid the blonde Saboteur no mind as he left the hatch and stepped up into the foyer of the Behemoth with the others of the infantry.

“Is that SeeR?” Evangeline spoke aloud, yearning for the attention of her fellow SOLDIERS as she attempted to pan the scanners in closer, trying to examine the armour of the troupe to gauge an answer. It was difficult to discern, especially when the three immediately swept into sudden formation, brandishing weapons that gleaned with ill intent in the Viera sun. Bi—coloured eyes widened, lashes peeling back as if to gather more from the screening as each of the panels switched, capturing more of the landscape as the scanner began to chime. A siren of harsh, peeling urgency as it picked up the registration of something... Not human.

They were massive, terrifying avians brandished in pale blue feathers and wreathed in hues of shy ebony, underlined by bleached plumage. Screeches of predatory songs rippled through the air as their jagged beaks gaped wide; yawning abysses that tunneled into throats lined with jagged teeth, expanding and peeling wide like the mouth of a snake. The voices from the controls filtered back, uncertainty lacing their troops tight as they battled with a decision. But, there wasn’t much of a choice to be made, only SOLDIERS would herald those kinds of weapons, the Viera sun proudly displaying wicked heat and light onto the sudden battlefield outside the bulky vehicle. Evangeline wasted no time, sharing quick glances with her fellow SOLDIERS before she punched the switch for the hatch to yield open. Hydraulics whined as the ramp fell, crushing the grass beneath and disturbing the rock as Evangeline wasted no time in jumping from the hatch, avoiding the ramp entirely by a mere flip, provided by her acrobatics and immediately keyed the Libra-System to sign online.

Lines fused together, diagrams shifting through rapidly until a small ping indicated a match, immediately broadcasting the information into display.

“Finally!” Evangeline called, tossing a wink over her shoulder at the rest of her companions as protests echoed from the interior of the vehicle, the ground troops holding their weapons aloft as they too left the bulk, although hesitant, of the Behemoth and aimed at the massive wings that lazily churned the air currents. She counted a total of six of the Eagles that circled the trio of weakened SOLDIERS, some dipping and diving low to tease and bait the travelers before screeching, as if communicating with the others each time they swooped down, never quite attacking. Evangeline wasted no time, immediately grappling for Umbra for the weapon to yield to her touch, the pressure system releasing the spear to her grasp alone. A fine tremor coiled down her spine and a smile carved deep into pallid cheeks, teeth gnashing together in her pure elation as she began sprinting towards the Eagles.




A — B— C — D — E — F
>STATUS: ENGAGE
>ENVIRONMENTAL BONUS: PLAINS
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Hellis
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Hellis Cᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟɪsᴛɪᴄ Yᴇᴛ Cʟᴀssʏ

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Kain


/Deployment Gate./

He could just pick up the foul smelling man, toss him overboard. It would not be hard. In fact, it'd be so very easy and satisfying. Giving him a nickname of the worst sort however, the man lived another day. The kind of nickname people said as they smirked to themselves. That man was on his shitlist now. He quietly resigned himself to a life of redicule while he plotted his vengence. The frown on his face was threatening to permanently rearrange his facial features at this point. It was to his credit that he didn’t perform a blunt trauma styled lobotomy of the smug bastard where he stood. Joking and humor was not Kains strong suit. In fact, while he wasn’t dumb, he wasn’t what you called “Cultured.” He muttered under his breath

“You are lucky it was only words.” His gruff voice came out almost in a sigh. He rubbed his tempels and frowned if possibly; harder. He though SOLDIER would be simple. This was already more for him to take in. He decided to focus on the upcoming mission and clear his head instead.

/Behemoth. Border./


As they all decided to step up and tell their designations he was already running calculations in his head. Who would need back up, who would be a likely target, who would best have his back. He saw a group of capable young men and women like himself and made sure to remember each name, as well as make not of the way they presented themselves. The Saboteurs carried themselves like predators, there was deadly grace in each of them. His fellow sentinels were as stout and imposing as him in their own ways. He nodded in approval at that. The Ravagers on the other hand, they were like beasts straining from the way they spoke. The Olsen fellow rubbed him the wrong way however. So incredibly arrogant. He had no idea who the guy was. He would make sure to ask in the most insulting manner later.

He stepped up. “Kain.” He said. “Sentinel.” He wondered if he should add something else. There was a silence. “Good to meet you all.” He concluded.

/Behemoth. Luan Fields./


Kain rested his eyes for most of the journey, leaning back and like with all things he did, reserved energy by being practically unmovable. Soon they’d reach their location, and they had no idea what would await them. He would be ready however, for whatever came there way. He was a front line veteran. As the officer entered and started to fuzz about with controls, one eyes opened. HIs eyes seemed to have a ember of fire behind them. A intensity alien to his form. His other eye came open at the mention of SeeRs. He leaned in and watched along side the blonde.



"They've seen combat. Whoever they are they are in bad shape" As Evangeline punched the hatch release, he nodded in confirmation. From almost a immovable object, he was suddenly unfolding like a silent, murderous beast. He stretched, cracked his nech as he jumped out, grabbing his blade and pulling up with one massive arm. Muscle played underneath weathered skin as held the blade out to the side, letting the red, massive blade shimmer in the light of the ships spotlights. It was as if it didn't weight a damn thing to the massive man. He put a cigarette to his mouth with his other hand and it lit by itself as per usual, a cherry ember falling from the tip of his cigarette to land ontop of his blade where continued to burn.

"SENTINELS! ON ME!" He called out just as he had been taught, waiting for his fellow Sentinels to respond. He grinned and for a second he felt a rumbling, intense heat shoot trough his veins. IT didn't concern him as adrenaline was starting to pump trough his system as his feet spread out in more grounded position, both his hands on the blade now.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by icmasticc
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icmasticc Chaotic Order

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S a b l e M a x w e l l


SOLDIER Base - Gymnasium - Some months before the present

"Can you see it? Can you see... Their true essence?"

Sable exhaled quite loudly as she pushed the metal bar towards the ceiling to complete her set. Bench press had never been her favorite exercise, but she recognized that it was something that had to be done and she was not going to let herself fall behind others. Her chest heaved up and down lightly before she pulled herself upright and gazed around the room. She focused on no one in particular, rather it was simply a way to pass the time as a hand towel failed at being an effective tool to wipe away sweat with--either that or she was not giving enough credit to the workout she had just finished. Despite the sea of thoughts swimming around, one line in particular kept replaying in her head. She had been ignoring it for months, but it was beginning to elevate in volume. Sable refused to accept the conclusion that would confirm what had to be an impossibility; a seemingly disembodied voice was trying to speak with her--in her own head.

"Screw it." With a sigh and a shake of the head, Sable stood and grabbed a hi-tech looking sheath that had been leaning on the bench rack. The silver and grey finish glinted in the bright lights against rectangles of red that ran the length of the metallic scabbard. Cadets and other SOLDIER personnel paused their conversations and some even watched as the dark haired, first class woman made her way towards the door and into a corridor that would lead to a separate room. A sliding metal door whooshed shut as lights automatically flipped on in a set synchronization revealing a medium-sized room with large mirrors on three of the four walls. The only wall was that not a mirror was the one the door was built into. The space reminded most people of a dance studio, but it acted as an area good for shadow training. If one wanted to work on their combat forms and technique without the use of a sparring partner, this was the place to do it.

A grin instantly formed as a cursory glance showed the room devoid of all other life. The silence and emptiness helped Sable get the most out of her form training and it was rare that the room was empty so this was an opportunity to be taken advantage of. Slipping off her combat boots and placing them near the door, Sable slowly, purposefully, made her way towards the center of the room. Upon gripping the hilt of her blade, the red rectangles flashed green and small whirring noises escaped into the air as the sheath opened up and pushed the blade up just a few centimeters. Sable effortlessly pulled the weapon out and tossed the scabbard away--it was durable enough to take that sort of punishment. She faced one mirror and her reflection while two other reflections mimicked the SOLDIER at her side and rear. Two hands clutched the hilt of the forty inch, single-edged sword as she took her stance. "Can you see it? Can you see... Their true essence?"

"Damnit!" Sable shouted and threw her blade to the side causing a loud thud and ring of metal alloy. "I have to be going crazy. But it's been getting even more frequent," She muttered to herself. "And now I'm fucking talking to myself. God." Sable chuckled and pushed her fingers through black locks that ended in a ponytail. A sigh of exasperation followed before she picked up her blade, sheathed it, slipped on her boots, and turned down the corridor intending to head for her room. More cadets and personnel stopped their conversations and stared as she passed by clearly in a huff. Everyone knew of the attitude of Sable Maxwell and that was before she became irritated. None of that mattered today though. Today, the voice had finally gotten to her and she embraced the ease it took to walk a straight line to her room as everyone around her moved out of the way. Today, she had finally become sick and tired of feeling like she was losing it. Once she made it to her room, Sable sat on the bed and contemplated.

It wasn't long after the incident that Sable was finally called in to what she considered a timely diversion. She was going to a new posting on the front lines of Archadia.

Somewhere in Archadia - A few days before the present

Brown eyes opened and immediately squinted at the intensity of the sun's light. The pain in her side was piercing and her leg was throbbing, but for the most part Sable figured she was not too badly injured considering her limbs responded to the command to move. She slid upwards against the rock her back was already leaning against and pulled her legs inwards. She had underestimated the pain slightly, but then again she was SOLDIER and this was hardly an obstacle she could not overcome. Using the rock for leverage, she grabbed hold and pulled her armored body into a standing position. It didn't take long for her to remember what happened. The battlefield around her did a fine job of reminding her as well. A curse escaped muttered breath as she surveyed the area.

Bodies were strewn about and blood dotted the handfuls of white snow and normally green fields. Weapons were scattered around the area and some stuck in the dirt like they were patiently awaiting their owners to come and rightfully pull them out. The bodies were both SeeR and SOLDIER. The mission had been a simple one; SOLDIER was to escort a supply division to a destination. Broken and jagged memories pieced themselves together in Sable's mind and she remembered the ambush mounted by SeeR. She remembered how the escort was woefully unprepared and, even though she had gathered herself quickly, how the unit had no chance against such numbers. She had slaughtered her share of the enemy, but after being outnumbered and injured, she followed a retreat order and found safety in a small alcove. Losing consciousness must have happened after that.

Sheathing her blade on her back, Sable almost pressed a button that would reform the helmet around her head until she heard voices in the distance. She listened for a moment to make sure they were real before racing off in their direction. There were survivors after all.

Luan Fields - Present Day

If it wasn't one situation, it was another. After the survivors of the SeeR ambush came together--Castor and Walter were the names of the other two--they had come to the agreement that it was best to return to SOLDIER base to report the incident. The group had made it back into Galbadia, but only as far as the Luan Fields before they were set upon once more. Esper Ridge Eagles could be especially aggressive beasts, but Sable was not thinking of her bestiary knowledge. It was bad enough that they had the misfortune to be part of a successful ambush against SOLDIER--a shame in and of itself in Sable's opinion--but now, injured no less, they had wound up facing off against a pack of rather strong monsters for the area. Thus far, they had not attacked outright yet, but some had chosen to swoop down and near them in what Sable figured was an attempt at sizing up their prey before diving in.

With a grit of her teeth and a hand on her hilt behind her, the helmet of Sable's Ravager armor quickly reformed around her stern expression and the single red dot on the face lit up in anger. She was not going to settle for another loss. "Come at me then, you bastards!" She dared as the Sabre Edge sped from its sheath into the fighting stance of its owner. No sooner had she prepared herself for combat did beeps in the HUD of her helmet indicate two figures racing towards the battle area. Sable glanced over to see a woman and a freakishly large man rushing towards the Eagles, weapons at the ready. SOLDIER had finally decided to show its face. Facing the Eagles once more, Sable tightened the grip on her hilt and depressed a hidden button which caused a bright violet hue to envelope the edge of the blade. "Took you fuckers long enough!" She shouted in the direction of the coming cavalry.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Ozerath
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Ozerath U WOT M8?

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Castor


Luan Fields

Everything burned. Cas was so absolutely exhausted and worn out that every muscle seemed to be screaming in agony. He’d been on the road for days on end, short on supplies and short on sleep, coming home from his first deployment with nothing to report but absolute catastrophic failure. Cas had been hoping for a chance to prove his loyalty, a chance he seemed to have been granted when he was shipped off to Archadia. Finally, a chance to bash some SeeR skulls in.

Of course, it had all gone to shit. Cas hadn’t even been around when SeeR struck; he’d been given scouting duty, and returned to find only dead and dying comrades. He hadn’t known any of them very well, but it still pained him to see so many bodies lying in the snow. His first instinct had been to chase off after SeeR, but he’d clamped down on that thought in an instant. They were three rookies with no supplies and no support against a force of unknown strength; the only viable course of action was to fall back and report the incident, rearm, regroup, and hit back later.

Cas was not thrilled by the idea of reporting such a disaster back to his commanders. Questions would inevitably come up, whispers he was tired of hearing. How odd that the contingent with a traitor’s son in their midst should end up ambushed by SeeR. How convenient that he’d been far away when the battle happened. The SOLDIER commanders would be sympathetic--Rene had always been a good mentor to Cas--but the Council and the President would be distinctly less so.

The trip had been hard, more so because of the oppressive silence which had persisted throughout their journey. Sable and Walter were...adequate travelling companions, but even after all they’d been through he knew practically nothing about them. Sable seemed blunt, brash even, while Walter was the very soul of respect and courtesy, if maybe a touch withdrawn. Occasionally one of the three had tried to make smalltalk; Cas had asked if either of them followed strikeball, but gotten only denial in response. Perhaps they had nothing to say because of what they’d been through. PTSD took many forms; those bodies in the snow were probably getting to them more than they cared to admit.

And now, eagles. Ironically, Cas had played professional strikeball for a team called the Esper Ridge Eagles, named after the giant birds now swooping down on his head. In all likelihood, he was going to die to a bird that he used to wear as a logo.

Then he heard a bellowing voice calling out across the plains. Cas couldn’t believe it. Another contingent of SOLDIERs, here, in the middle of nowhere, right when they were most needed, with an enormous sentinel leading the charge. The burning feeling intensified, but instead of pain, Cas felt relief, as if this even greater heat had purged his body of pain and fatigue. With allies close at hand, Cas placed himself between the eagles and his companions, daring the beasts to come closer. One made the mistake of diving a little too low, wings outstretched and massive claws reaching for its prey; with a roar, Cas hefted his lance and leaped forward, plunging the pronged weapon into the eagle’s chest.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by FantasyChic
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FantasyChic Poptarts and Glitter

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Luan Fields



Quill was oddly quiet, even for her, the whole trip over. It wasn't unheard of for her to be silent for hours, days even, at a time, but her excitement for her first mission should have meant she would be talkative, even to people she didn't know very well. As the case was, she didn't talk much, or emote anything, until they got to their destination.

Her equipment packed, her armor comfy and sleek, her weapon attached to her hip, she followed the rest on to the ship. She looked at her surroundings. The outside wasn't somewhere you wanted to go, necessarily. Despite the surroundings, Quill couldn't help but feel energized from it all. This was her first time doing anything outside of the base. Training was all well and good, but this was the first step. She had to prove herself. Not only to her bosses and her team, but to herself, to show she is up for the task, whatever it may be.

It wasn't long into her daydream that she heard a woman yell. She glanced up to see Evangeline give a wink and grab her weapon and go off towards the unknown. Quill glanced in the direction. She couldn't make out much, but her focus was on the SOLDIERs, apparently injured and being circled by a menacing force. This was it.

"Here we go," she said, to other's amazement, she DID talk. She followed the rest off of the Behemoth, weapon at the ready and her medical supplies at the go ahead, she raced towards the injured party to stabilize and heal, if possible.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Akai no Senshi
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Akai no Senshi GAAAAAAAAAAH! ATSUI WA KOKORO DA!

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Walter King | Memories of death | Luan.

It was. . .so dark. So grim. They died left and right. They perished. They disappeared. They weren't there anymore. Walter didn't feel them. The pain swallowed him whole, because this feeling was oddly familiar. It encompassed him through and through until he could barely breathe anymore. His protection floundered slowly. These were his -comrades-. And they all died. Slow, incredibly slow. It felt slow, even if it wasn't. Walter didn't wave his tremendous shield up and about when they were hailed. He didn't do it in time. They just. . .left him to his own devices. He wanted to die here, too, but that would be a stretch to his ambition. His presence here. His reason. And just like that, the mission was a disappointment. When he, Sable and Castor came back, they were all dug deep into snow. It was cold. Absolutely cold. Walter turned around. He didn't want to see this, not anymore. He wanted to cry so much, but the mission wasn't over just yet.

He was clad in his usual armor, albeit fitted with several components that created warmth INSIDE the suit, to prevent snow from entering into the main electronic compartments and ruining the function of the suits. His suit was held like a hand-watch, wrapped with a metallic band carefully to his wrist. He wants to take a walk. He wants to walk /away/, for all eternity. He catches the shield before him and addresses them with a sore eye. It's a resemblance of his sadness, an equity to his inner conflictions. SeeR was horrible, the SOLDIER program even more. It didn't care about -them-, but that's for a particular reason. -Them- had declined into inexistance at this point. Walter King was no longer Walter King. He was a nobody. A pawn can only move one space. One space wasn't far enough. Pawns can have all the drive and compassion they want-- one space was irrelevant. They'd expire long before they get to the other side. Walter King felt like he was in a calculated game of chess, a never-ending one. These zonal battles have happened countless times before. Some were better for them, but others -- like this one -- went bitter.

Prior to arriving at this exotic scenery, Walter King, Castor and Sable had no issues or questions to put up. No conversation, either. Walter King was seldom the isolated man. With all his sophistication to back that kind of personality -- it only brewed a sense of mysticismin him. But with comrades, he felt it courteous to discharge that static of silence and let them know of him. Of who Walter King is. He may've told them his name, but that'd be all from his side. There wasn't any necessity for more. The walk presumed. They were as lethargic as could be, which put most of the fault on them. If they had been there one second before. . .if Walter arrived in time. That thought, that /guilt/ killed him on the inside. It ripped his very core a part. Yet he established inclination to the mission even when things became worse.

Eagles. Walter wasn't ready for this. His preparation was limited, and the sight still had significant effects on his mentality and mindset. He lacked the sort of drive that carried him earlier--that flammable enthusiasm. Sensitivity went a long ways with him. He does not need to turn to Sable and Castor to warn them, because they already moved. All that was left now is for him to swim back up from the dull depths of his subliminal ocean. He's woken up, not by the sound of Sable and Castor battling the Ravager Eagles to death, but it was the sound of sustained camaradrie, that came on after he noted more SOLDIERS arriving. He had practically no time to hail them, but. .

His heart yearned more to protect these ones. Those left, and now their turn came. His shield poised, Walter rushes into the fray alongside Sable and Castor. He has no chance of reaching them straight, so he waits for them to attack before going for the counter. Walter would leap onto them and smash. Smash. Smash. Smash. The bottom tip of his shield just consistently tearing into the Eagles' delicate skull. He was screaming. Yelling. He wasn't about to lose anymore. He had to protect. It was his job as,

Sentinel King.


| Battle Summary -- Walter leapt up into one of the Eagles that came down to attack people. He's smashing it's head with his shield. Hard. He's on top of one, although not the one that's already got a few people attacking it. Probably Eagle B.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Komo
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Komo Chill vibes MKII

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Luan Fields



Action. There was action. Her fellow SOLDIERS had been taken up by a frenzy as soon as the enemies came into sight. Travelling like this doing nothing but lazing around was getting to her nerves. It was just as well that the hostile creatures made themselves known. Beatrice was looking to bash some heads in with her stick. Her rather long and heavy reinforced stick that she also called a quarterstaff. Her weapon differed quite a bit compared to her other teammates, in the fact that it lacked any noticable and recognisable set of sharp edges that could be used for slicing or stabbing like a bladed weapon can. Her weapon was a blunt one, but was not to be understimated, not in the slightest. In the right hands, the weapon could smash and crack skulls with ease, breaking and fracturing the bones of limbs along the way. If that wasn't enough, the ridged edges along the ends of the staff could very afford to do some cuts of its own, though not in the degree like a bladed weapon like a sword or a spear would be capable of. Beatrice could still remember her first mission. It wasn't what she would call a success.

True, they had managed to complete their mission objectives, but at a great cost. It was to be a simple scouting mission, but because of a few errant team mates, the rest paid the price as well. The idiotic pair had walked into an ambush and bring the wrath of SEER onto them. She lamented during the entire mission on how those knuckleheads could even consider themselves ELITEs, but they were there, and there was no escaping them now. She lost three squad members that day, and it was needless to say that among the three, two of which were the abovementioned morons. The entire remaining squad eventually got reassigned elsewhere. You could say that she was tested, but she was no veteran. No, one would need more experience for that.

Now, Eagles. Airborne enemies. Totally out-of-her-range. Or not. Sure, she wouldn't be able to whack the birdies unless they ventured down from the skies, but she wasn't totally helpless either. Luckily, she came prepared with her trusty gizmos, gadgets and oddities. Following the other blonde, and the mountain that called himself Kain, Beatrice made sure to grab her pouch along with her. The pouch would contain more than a good handful of balls that looked no different from golfballs, except for the fact that they were made from steel. There was a switch on them that enabled them to spike up into little porcupines of pain, attaching and impaling themselves on the flesh of those they came into contact with. All that was needed was a simple flick of a switch. Grasping one in her hand, she flipped the small switch indented on its surface before tossing it in the air, and whacking it home with the heavy end of her quarterstaff. *CLANG* The tiny ball of fury smacked true, embedding itself on the feathery flesh of the creatures. Several more balls went flying into the air, ash Beatrice didn't let up. (*CLANG* *CLANG* x 4)

Those birds were going down.

Yup, they most certainly were, one way or another.

Yeah, take that suckers.



Battle Summary:
Beatrice sends a total of 5 spiky porcupine steel balls flying towards the nearest Eagle baseball style.
'Ouch' time for Eagle commences.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Noxious
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Noxious ᴅ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ ish

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_____________________________________________________________________________

Aboard the Behemoth; Luan Fields.
_____________________________________________________________________________

The tone and temperament of the room swiveled to align loosely with a scantily suppressed frenzy of disarray. As the bubbly blonde vixen jerked from her berth to impel her fae like features upon one of the lieutenants Dach lolled her head across her shoulders and coiled her fingertips inducing a pop from a few select digits. Rejuvenated with the release of pressure a lissome finger clicked a myriad of trigger numerations and the particle accelerators attended the room with a cinereal hum.

Without a clear leader it was to be expected that the disarray would culminate in a haphazard and reactionary migration of allies. Her refusal to be dragged along into this mobocracy was punctuated by depositing two buds past the metal lacing and into her ear cavity so that a juxtaposition of placid and harsh moxie seeped into her form, inducted by a turgid melody littered with motivating intonations. The buds were pre programmed SOLDIER tech to allow default override of Libra contact and auto adjust to exterior vocal cues; enough to pull a reverie about the connoisseur of extermination, but not enough to detach the demon spun girl entirely. Lashes forced closure on those rosewood iris’ and her non-tech glasses were tossed on to the barren seat to her right. Eyes, denied the lambent light, were met with a gloved digit that kneaded across the nerve bundle at her nasion and tear ducts; tempting focus.

The ear buds chorus caused a subtle oscillation, visible in the escaped strands of drowned chanticleer that flitted upon her cheeks and over the barren nape of her neck. She coerced the air about her to completely press at the occupancy limit of her lungs, and then expelled it all in a meditative woo-sah. As the back of the Behemoth yawned and took in the outside world, the opened eyes that greeted the now oppressive lighting of the Behemoth were different; tinged in an enigma of vague cloudy blue, determined, and rapacious. It flickered there for a second as her pupils pulsed to acclimate to the provided light, but as she moved towards the hatch that led to the upper bunker-like turret, housing some of the on-board defensive weaponry, her eyes appeared neutral, if resigned.

She watched the giggling optimistic Valkyrie as she darted out into field, pursued, thankfully, by the mountainous piece of fiery man meat. She had always associated the concept of bravery with stupidity or naivety, usually an intercourse of both, so she felt no guilt in not prancing after her associates. Her usefulness had long ago been quartered and bred, and it had purposefully been denied the interjection of battle madness. She had /other/ skills.


2 seconds since the initial departure from the Behemoth.

She waited as one red shirt climbed the ladder past the hatch and intercepted the second with a squeeze of his shoulder so she could ascend in his stead. The area was cramped with the two of them and the mounted rotating weaponry that peeked from heavy metal alloy slats. She doubted Kain could even make it through the hatch, and if he did, he would surely need assistance being removed. When the first red shirt, Allen, clearly expecting someone else, gave her a puzzled look she motioned towards the slats, Can we open this up a bit?” Allen looked unsure and his lack of confidence boosted her authority.

14 seconds since the initial departure from the Behemoth.

We’ll lose integrity on the outer turret hull,” Allen finally managed to squeeze out, expression unchanged.

18 seconds since the initial departure from the Behemoth.

But we’ll gain more clarity on the overall situation.” She’d already deduced this decision would not endanger the Behemoth overall, or any of the people contained within; cue a flicker of her eyes to the hatch. If the monster birds garnered the tactical reasoning to rip out the soon-to-be-more-exposed section the only danger would be to her and Allen.

I, I can’t authorize…” She’d stopped listening to him. She was quite aware this was a time sensitive situation. Initiative and guesswork had her flipping a few cumbersome bulky chunks of metal, some likely unnecessary, and raising the slat of the sanctuary; just enough to get an encompassing view of the enemy riddled sky and the plains between their Behemoth and the other SOLDIERs. The thick bulky metal rested reassuringly at her back, offering coverage from behind; plus, Allen was there.

28 seconds since the initial departure from the Behemoth.

Rifle stand was unlatched from the belly of the exquisite reaper and she hastily nestled into the dear dear friend, no time for foreplay. She clicked a few buttons, fingers playing across the metal with the skilled touch of biblical knowledge, maybe a little foreplay, in return she received the pleasing hum of the doom song against her cheek, the actual tone was lost and muddled with her melodic inter-phase, coaxing her attention instead with a dampened vibration.

Libra system link initiate.”

The sentience of the Rifle went so far as to begin scrolling readings across the HUB display; wind, distance and other environmental variants. After the link with Libra was solidified her communication took on the semblance of secrets shared between lovers; her cheek nuzzled into the heart of the rifle while her lips purred commands that had an eldritch eeriness riding them into reality. The foreign tongue that fell from those lips was an offshoot of ancient Banngan dialect, something she’d gained familiarity with in the underbelly of crime. Someone was always listening. It had an abrasive and clipped rhythm that allowed words to run an abundance of knowledge quickly through the out of date vocal cues of humans. It was wrapped in the added bonus of catering to hiss’ and clicks that brought to mind the ancient cults of their presumed dead pagan culture. Utterly foreign and nonsensical to the unattuned; eerie and uncomfortable. She loved it and she’d programmed it into the R-36 herself.

The barrel of the rifle traced the speculated combat zone as she whispered. Something that tumbled for her lips initiated
orchid auras around friendlies. She tagged the enemy targets in the same manner, though they earned a tawny aura, blazing across the sky with the additional trajectory and speed tags. /chit/rac fu’ln bek.” Tags grouped the birds into the two groups; the imminent threat and those rapidly closing in. Each target also had its own specific designation if, and when, the grouping dispersed or reassigned. The rifle pinged and captured as her lips coaxed a promise of acquisition from the awaiting rifle. Two waves, patterns of intelligent design, focus, focus...

The earbuds ceased, detecting Allen murmuring behind her.
What, what are you even saying? Creepy bitch.” Fuckin’ Allen. She could taste his confusion and it twisted those lips into something deviant and egged a chilling, Kill ‘em all Allen, kill ‘em all!”

M, my name is Thomas.”
Like it mattered. That stutter was adorable though.

39 seconds since the initial departure from the Behemoth.

A calm settled over their shared bunker reminiscent of the peace and clarity that comes during the adrenaline boost of a particularly wretched car crash. Her lips halted their movement, all movement, muscles tensed and the generic sense of self dissipated as she led the bird across the sky. This was not her first interaction with these aerial monsters, though her first, and last, was in a sunken shady black market and she now realized that bird must have been infantile in relation. Through the scope, even at a kilometers distance, the bird was a dreadful creature to behold. She would later dwell on the hatred and malice entombed in the intelligent precision of their facial structure in an earthbound kamikaze. You had to admire their dedication.

It was a shame to destroy something so beautifully designed, so dreadfully perfect at this one game they all played.

One of those spindly digits tensed against the trigger, the only movement to betray the hunt other than a small hiss that slipped from betwixt her lips with every shot, all tracing through the sky at a single eagle target.


First shot from the R-36 fired 40 seconds after the initial departure from the Behemoth.
… … … … …
Single Target || Twelve Rounds || Eagle D || Behemoth Bunker
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by icmasticc
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S a b l e M a x w e l l

Luan Fields

"Can you see it? Can you see... Their true essence?"

There it was again. The echo bounced around the boundaries of Sable's innermost feelings and permeated the core of her being. Thoughts were wiped clean and everything seemed to freeze for a mere moment as that familiar, yet unknown voice once again posed its repeated inquiry. Reality morphed and twisted into an amalgamation of all colors before melding into a pitch black ooze that devoured both the foreground and background of the armored SOLDIER's surroundings. The ravenous predators in the sky disappeared along with the allies and comrades that were set to face them. In an instant, nothing existed anymore. Only Sable, her blade, and the voice remained. Frozen in place, her gaze shifted to both sides and realized even the HUD in the interior of her Ravager armor was suspended. "Can you see it?" The voice asked once more, the sound seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

"This can't be real... But, why can't I move?!" Sable replied and in that same moment revealed that she could not even open her mouth. Her voice rang out, but from where it came was a mystery. A mystery she didn't have time to deal with. "Damnit! I don't even care what this is anymore, I need to go back!" Her voice cried out.

"In order to move forward, one must accept..."

"Accept?... What the hell are you even saying?!" The blackness in front of the frozen SOLDIER shifted and danced around until it morphed into one of the Esper Ridge Eagles. The beast was primed for attack. The muscles and ligaments of her body offered not even a hint of movement however. "Goddamnit! I need to go back!" Her voice shouted again trying its hardest to be forceful. As the Eagle dove, its own body began to morph. With each second it moved closer, the body and face became more and more recognizable. Suddenly, the spell which bound the woman broke and her instinct took control. Involuntarily, Sable lunged towards the man the Eagle had become and attacked.

As the body fell to the ground, Sable watched in horror. Blood dripped from her blade and her armor was replaced with civilian clothes. The man looked up at her, a small grin forming as his eyes locked with the terror filled brown hues he had known for years. "Good job... Kid..." He stammered.

#


The screech of impending offense brought Sable back to the reality she thought she had escaped from. Her stance remained firm, the blade and its weight filling her hands and body with a sensation she never knew she could miss. It seemed that only a second two had elapsed in the time Sable had been trapped in her own head. At least, that's the conclusion she had come to--the only conclusion she allowed herself to come to. Now concretely back in reality, an assessment of the current situation was relatively simple and a decision was quickly reached. She knew little of the man named Castor, but what she did know was that he was SOLDIER and there was no way she was going to let an injured Eagle repeat the horrors of the ambush.

Turning on her heel, Sable pushed off and dashed towards the nearly grounded monster that had survived impalement. Adrenaline began to flow and a sense of excitement welled up within. Her grip switched to one-handed as she closed the distance between the beast and herself. Countless times, Sable had practiced against an invisible enemy or sparring partner or even her own reflection. The repeated drills and forms and failures and successes had all come together to prepare her for a moment like this. It was not a moment to shine. It was a moment to take in one's hand and utterly crush. Some SOLDIERs went years before seeing actual combat. Some even relished the safety they had inside the walls of the fort, but not this woman. This woman had yearned for a chance to break her blade against an inhuman opponent. This woman had yearned for the chance to prove to everyone that she was worth the value she placed on herself. This woman yearned to prove that she was more than events that defined her life thus far--yearned to prove that she was not just a murderer.

The Eagle noticed its incoming attacker at the last second and shot out its large wing in hopes of swatting Sable as it took to the sky once more. With her focus unbroken, Sable pushed her upper body down and under the wing, just barely missing the attempted swat. A pirouette under the rising monster followed before she turned, emerging on the other side, and faced the head of the beast. The violet hue of the Sabre Edge seemed brighter in the sunlight as it first rose above its owner's head and then began its forceful and angry descent towards the nape of the Eagle's over-sized neck.

Battle Summary

- Sable dodged an attack by Eagle A and sent her own in retaliation in defense of Castor.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by Wade Wilson
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Wade Wilson bruh.

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———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Aboard the Behemoth; Luan Border
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

John didn’t pay much attention - or rather, pretended not to - for the rest of the journey. His eyes seemed distant and he listened to the introductions that came from the rest of the group. Evangeline Dashelle, Cidolphus Escovane, James Lockeheart...

Each time another person introduced themselves, he glanced at the source of the voice, adding a non-visual nametag to them. He didn’t see the point of it, as after this mission he’d more than likely be back with his original squad, but lying, manipulation and deceit was the only way he’d be able to efficiently get past them to kill the traitors, and knowing their names would make it a lot easier. Much as he knew he’d have to at some point, it was easier to not waste his energy on fighting them, if they were to try and stop him from achieving his goal. But, it was good to keep up morale, even if it was in short supply. Some take it too far, though, he thought, as his eyes flicked to Evangeline. However, it seemed her attitude had changed, replaced with a stern discomfort that she’d seemingly been hiding. Deciding to amuse himself, rather than absorb all the looks that the SOLDIERS were shooting his way, he balanced the possible reasons why this seemingly alien emotion was beginning to show itself now. It could’ve been the attitude of her peers - John had noticed that she stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of them, with her excitement practically exploding from her, getting in everyone’s faces. Well, John’s face, at least. The other reason could’ve been John’s introduction - Evangeline was clearly intrigued by him, so to only receive information she already knew must have disappointed her.

The blonde soon regained her usual, bubbly self again, and a smile made its’ way onto her lips. She found amusement once again in the introductions of the rest of the soldiers aboard the Behemoth. He found his mind drifting off to other things, however, as his posture became hunched over and his head bowed, eyes locked on the clear blue crystal in his hands. The light reflected off the prisms, projecting onto the floor and around the Behemoth, albeit faint and unnoticeable from a quick glance. John’s visor translated the rays into many shades of vermillion, some dark and some light, and the crystal itself was turned to a bright violet, stark in contrast to the quiet blue it normally appeared to be. He turned it in his hands, catching all angles of the light in the Behemoth, and watching as it reflected onto all surfaces. The pattern was unique yet familiar, like a spider’s web being shone on by the sun. The man was almost hypnotized by the rays, focusing solely on them, with the voices of the group and the rumbling of the Behemoth melting into one disembodied hum.

It wasn’t until the voices and the rumbling both stopped that he was snapped out of his trance. He held the crystal in his right hand and looked up, straightening his back with a groan. Apparently, they’d made an unscheduled stop. Getting up, he walked over to where Evangeline, one of the Lieutenants, and Kain were. Since he towered over her, he decided to stand behind the girl, staring at the images that came up on the monitor. Three people in what could only be SOLDIER attire, and… Esper Ridge Eagles. With a heavy sigh, John glanced at the crystal in his hand. He’d dealt with them before, but in a squad where he knew his teammates fully. This group would hardly trust him, and therefore wouldn’t be all too comfortable with working with him. It didn’t matter, though - there’d come a time when they’d have no choice. It always happened at some point. Not wanting to bother with any more ‘worrying’ about the future, he followed the rest of the SOLDIERS out of the Behemoth and into the Luan Fields.




———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Luan Fields
———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————


The details came up on his visor instantly, as he hovered his gaze on the eagle that Beatrice had attacked. If I want to get them to trust me, I might aswell give them a reason to, he thought, looking down at the crystal and gently squeezing it. The different prisms began to rotate and hiss, a golden cage folding out of it and entrapping the crystal whilst it returned to its’ normal state. Then, the shaft began to slide down, extending further and further until it became around 5’3”, including the spearpoint at the end. Finally, the obsidian clamp folded out of the top of the cage, the top end of the shaft coming out with it, and the curved blade slid out of it, the very sheen of the blade enough to make a man run in fear. Altogether, it was almost as tall as John, towering at 5’7”, and most men would struggle to carry it. A sly smile crept across his face as he felt adrenaline pump through his veins, and he broke out into a sprint, making his way past Kain and diving for the near-grounded eagle, grabbing its’ talon with his left hand. He hauled his scythe up with his other hand, sending the curved blade into its’ stomach, dragging it down and ripping it out, before climbing onto its’ back and slamming the blade into its’ skull. He then dove down on a grounded eagle, driving the spearpoint into its’ neck.

”They took everything from me. They beat me when I was down. They laughed at my broken body and spirit. They turned me into a monster. Now this monster is free. Now this monster cannot be beaten.”
BATTLE SUMMARY

John dragged his scythe blade down the stomach of eagle c and slammed it into its’ skull, before diving onto eagle d and driving his spearpoint into its’ neck.
Hidden 8 yrs ago 8 yrs ago Post by JJ Doe
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JJ Doe

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Aboard the Behemoth; Luan Fields


During the travel to their destination, when Hal wasn’t being his loquacious self, acting like a preadolescence child when interacting with Evangeline, or bursting into sudden musical numbers with the aforementioned young woman with heterochromia, Hal was quietly (a word that some might have thought was nowhere to be found in Henri’s dictionary) reading the news on an electronic tablet and/or listening to the radio, occasionally gently petting the head that leaned against him.

Information, in whatever form it may be or however insignificant it may seem at first glance, was valuable. Not that the news, both on the radio and in letters, had any particularly cheery story to tell the depressing world of Viera. Even the dispiriting news was more or less the same thing for a decade; the war had been going on much too long. What had the world come to when the most uplifting news was that Ondřej Ó Dubhshláine, a man known as one of the pioneers of Aeon technology, died at the ripe old age —something that has become a rarity in recent years. But of course there was more to the news: there was a rumor circulating that Ó Dubhshláine had been assassinated by SeeRs using biological warfare. The police, the government, and even the SeeRs have yet to make any public statement that would affirm or deny the rumor.

Hal chuckled bitterly then hummed, “Mmm-mmm! Do I smell politics? Wow! My favorite kind of BS! Can't start the day without people dying and the government being all secretive about it, now can we? I can tell today’s going to be another good day.”

Perhaps the day would have been a peaceful one had he not jinxed it.



When the wounded SOLDIERS came into view, Hal was one of the first to bolt out of the vehicle to aid the weakened fighters, but he was also the first to stop in his tracks just a few steps away from the door. Superego had inflated into massive proportions; it had become powerful enough to propel Hal towards the battlefield without a second thought. He wanted to get there as soon as possible; to be sure the situation didn’t get any worse. He would have been the first one to reach the three soldiers too, if ego hadn’t whispered into superego’s ear.

And then what?

The energy that shot through his body just moments ago, instantaneously started to deplete into nothingness —much like the crash after a sugar rush. Hal had to stop right there and then. He became a rock just standing in the way of the flow of SOLDIERs that rushed into battle; an unnecessary and potentially detrimental obstacle that could have meant the death of the three SOLDIERs out there. But Hal had to stop and he couldn’t take another step.

What happens after you go there? You won’t join the fight. You can’t fight. You are useless here, Henri. You know that. Yet, you jumped out without actually thinking about it… Again. Didn’t you learn from your mistakes? Are you really that stupid? Why did you go through college if you weren’t going to use your brain when it’s most needed?

“Henri, you can’t save everyone.”


Echoes of the past sent an unpleasant shiver down the man’s spine. Fear. Not from the prospect of fighting, getting hurt, or dying, but from what was most likely going to happen after the battle. Regret. If he fought, he was going to regret it.

Hal watched his teammates engage in battle with the giant birds. Both parties fought with what they all got. Of course they would; their lives depended on it. There was the option to run, but that would most likely not happen, much to Hal’s dismay. “They” were made that way. Only “their” makers were to blame for that. He even had time think about it and he still could not choose a side when it came down to these situations. His indecisiveness had cost him more than he knew or would like to admit. Henri was a coward: he was scared that his conscience could not take the idea of—…

“Henri, you can’t save everyone. Sometimes you have to… give something up. You have to lose something to win something bigger… If you don’t choose, someone else might… and in the worst case, you will loose everything.”

Hal closed his eyes shut, hard enough to make his eyebrows furrow. As he mentally deflated his superego as much as he could possibly will it to, the scientist bit his lip and dug his nails into the palm of his hands. Hal didn’t know how long it took him to that, but when he finally relaxed and opened his eyes, his expression was abnormally blank.

He was the only SOLDIER there to take a step away from the battlefield. He just stood there, observing… recording. If there was no chance of saving everyone, then he was getting something else out of this. “Their” deaths must not be wasted.

Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by FantasyChic
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Luan Fields



There were no thoughts at Quill ran towards battle. There was only the force pushing her forward. Her heart was thumping against her chest. The giant birds that circled the wounded SOLDIERs didn't phase her, though she had never seen one up close. Instead her thoughts raced.

"You need to help them. Remember what Leia taught you."

As she charged forward, she bumped into something. She stumbled a bit, but kept running. She took a glance back to see who she ran into and she saw a man, one of her teammates. Henri was his name, she believed. Or Hank. Something with an H. She wondered why he was standing there, staring at the battle ahead, but she couldn't think of that now. Perhaps he was preparing his weapon.

She neared the Eagles, they were circling the group and she noticed that some of her teammates were already launching attacks. Taking out her whip, as she neared one of the Eagles that appeared to be confused, she jumped up and lashed her whip out, cracking the Eagle on the head as it led out a cry. She landed on it's back before she jumped off in the middle of the group.

The injured members were lashing out, though she could tell they were wounded. Keeping an eye on them, she neared Sable and Castor and spun her whip around, "When we've dealt with this obstacle, allow me to treat your wounds," she said to them before she flung the sharp end of her whip to the Eagle Sable was attacking, cutting at it's eye.

Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Raijinslayer
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James Lockehart, The Belly of the Beast -> Luan Fields


James gave unseen glances towards Beatrice, Dach, and Kain as they introduced themselves, giving only a slight nod of acknowledgement to show that he was listening to them. The other blonde, while not to Evangeline's level, was noticeable more chipper than the rest of them, the inked sniper seemed to be a woman of few words, something that he could respect, and the mountain of a man seemed . . . mundane at best, dull at worst. He simply said what he had to say and little else, though the look he seemed to cast towards James and Beatrice did leave him with the feeling that he felt a bit weary of them. While the introductions given were serviceable and to the point, James was surprised that Hal had chosen t stay quiet during these introductions, figuring that he'd be trying his best to spin some grand title for himself in an effort to be 'funny'. For whatever reason, though, he was silent and James decided to just leave it be and enjoy the silence. His eyes, however, had drifted over to the other silent passenger, the silver haired girl he'd seen in the library.

Again, a strange feeling grasped at his minds, faint whispers and echoes that struggled for purchased upon his blank mindscape, only to fall into the abyss of emptiness that was the entirety of his before. He felt like he might have had some previous association with her, but given that she never said anything to him, she either didn't remember him, didn't really care, or had been ordered not to interact with him. Whatever the case, he couldn't help but wonder ever so slightly what his association with her might have been. As much as he always stated that he didn't care for his past, he wouldn't be human if he was without just a smidgen of wonder at what had happened to him in the past. Now, however, wasn't the time to entertain or call out such desires. Whatever happened to him in the past, he doubted it was pleasant and having a mental breakdown on a mission(or just in general) would not be welcome. So these questions he had would have to wait for answers for just a bit longer, if ever.

His thoughts were disrupted, however, as Evangeline called their attention to a small radar. As the situation unfolded, James felt the lingering traces of adrenaline from the meeting rise again, but he restrained himself for a moment, exiting with the others but taking a second to observe the battle, scan the tactics of his foes. His allies seemed to have the situation on the ground well under control, and had brought a majority of the Esper Ride Eagles down to the earth. However, instead of turning his attention to the grounded foes, James looked skyward, seeing the final two circling above with their eyes focusing on the group as a whole. They can probably handle those on the ground, but right now, I need to try and level the rest of the playing field.

James took a step back, getting into a good position as he followed the patterns of the eagles, waiting and watching for them to make a move. Finally, one of them started to fly low, their attention locked onto the Beatrice as it tried to get a flanking position on his fellow Ravager. A single breath escaped his mouth as his entire seemed to relax, before suddenly tensing as he launched himself forward at high speed, rushing across the field in a circular fashion counter to that of the Eagle. As it prepared to do whatever it was about to do, James would leap up into the air to catch on of it's talons, flipping his body quickly up until he was gripping onto it's legs, his feet place precariously over the talons. Gripping tightly with one hand, he reared back his other before launching a swift but powerful blow to the appendage, causing a resounding crack to echo through the air, probably canceling it's previous attack due to the pain as the Eagle let out an ear piercing shriek, vigorously shaking it's leg in an effort to remove the creature that had fractured it's leg. James held on tightly as he could, though he had to deftly leap up onto the main body as the monster tried to peck at him with it's large beak.

The Eagle than proceeded to buck around in the air as much as possible in an attempt to dislodge James, who was clinging onto it by it's feathers, which probably wasn't very comfortable for the Eagle. As it struggle to remove him from its back, James slowly but surely began to make his way up the creatures back, keeping away from the powerful wings and instead making his way to it's head. He wasn't making much progress, but he was sure to move to the bird's back at some point and, as he made his way up, launch a punch or two into the back, hoping it'd crack some bones or, at the very least, keep the buzzards off the rest of them.

"Next chance I get, I'm gonna get myself some sort of fucking gun." He mutter though clenched teeth, forgetting about the uplink that made it so everyone could hear what he said. "or maybe I'll just grab Hal's weapon, since I doubt he even knows how to use it. Heheh-SHIT! STOP TRYING TO BUCK ME IFF YOU OVER-SIZED TURKEY!"


Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by Noxious
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_____________________________________________________________________________

Behemoth Bunker; Luan Fields.

_____________________________________________________________________________


There was a certain luxury afforded to the air that tinged upon her aura; a separation and a reverie that licked across her with the comfort of drowning euphoria. Seconds were scrawled with the reveries tongue tracing across her consciousness under strict focused supervision. Immutable breaths continued as a gauge for time; now unaffected by the music that had dimmed to nonexistence during the words spoken between herself and Allen, and were not summoned back as her own lips began their steady trancelike confidences to her mechanized metal friend.

There had been a pause in her shots as she ascertained the collective twelve shot damage, barrel following once again as the, now incapacitated, esper eagle fluttered, broken, to join amongst the soil it would soon return to. Her rarely affected stark landscape of features rippled as an eyebrow quirked at the eagle that continued to deny death’s grip. She’d practically tied the ribbon for the soul collector, had she not?

hardy sons of bitches.

She abandoned her focus on the initial target, pupil rapidly adjusting within an iris darkened by reaper focus; flitting about the tableau on the plain and measuring the stage. She had, as of yet, not gained any of the beast’s attention. The occupants of her scope, both human and avian, seemed absorbed with the call, us vs. them, as infinite as the sun glittering upon the solid reality before her.

There was a similar subconscious drive at play; pick off the weak and wounded; an innately animalistic thought unharnessed by evolution. They were all animals, animals built to accomplish predatory warfare. Then there was the tainted strain of altruism; to save someone. Animals rarely bothered with that atrocity. Perhaps there were some who had sat in a situation mirroring her own, allowing a moral dilemma of “who deserved a savior”. But despite an occasional outward façade, Dach was not that type of arrogant.

The contemplation that she could or would be the final word on someone's fate was inconceivable. Gambling with fate was a situation that lay upon the feet, or talons, of each of them, and not a one carried that burden for another. She saw the situation without an animalistic or altruistic view. She did not go for the final kill on the weak, or come to aid of the injured. She played the part of a mechanism that she had been conditioned to be.

Versatile and effective.

She readjusted her cheek, lifting it only to place it an unreadable nanometer from where it had been, pinching the nuancical skin between the bone and machinery and then started whispering again. The scope swam through the occupants of the battle field, many of the eagles were closely engaged and therefore eliminated mentally as targets. The enduring slide of the scope loitered upon the eagle that the silver haired girl had cracked upon the head but the eagle was currently unengaged [eagle b]. Creeping across it as her tense finger resonated with a delicate tapping to release minor strings of bullets; only five in total.

The unceased scrawling hurried to the unengaged flight of the lone healthy target [eagle e] and settled upon the bird, leading its movements as she released a volley of twenty bullets. This esper eagle was not so easily traced, curling itself through the unseen air drafts and avoiding three of the shots entirely and decreasing the impact of four as they broke through the birds more useless layers.


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