Eisenhorn

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Jerod

The mercenary quietly patted himself down as the crazy princess sister of the Lad himself cast her healing magic on him. That made things quite a bit easier, that much was certain. Standing up with a grunt, he cracked his knuckles with a grin. Good as new, well, good as he was going to get at any rate. Of course there was a string attached to her patching him up, which was certainly expected, and he shrugged as he looked over towards the lad as he stormed off in the general direction of the old Grandmaster fellow. Oh he saw a bad decision before the princess asked him to even intervene, and as the mounted knight fellow made his own comment towards Jacob, he doubted polite and hands off would stop the lad. Because words don't arrest momentum, after all. Jerod sighed and nodded towards the princess, muttering an aside to her as he utilized greater stride length and increased momentum to close their distance before the Lad himself could get into some real trouble.

"Aye lass, ah can stop th' champion o' naga from doin' somethin' stupid thi' time. Consider it on t'e 'ouse, savvy?"

Jerod wasted no time catching up with Jacob, resting a hand on his shoulder and stopping, his firm grip and heavy handed approach arresting the lads momentum, or at least intending to. He spoke quietly to the lad, the relatively older and wiser mercenary intending to impart some wisdom on the lad, especially considering what he intended to do. He didn't try to be subtle about it either, even if he wasn't yelling or being belligerent about it. Could he stop the lad by force? Possibly, especially considering the situation at hand he would have the drop on him, but that didn't mean he had any interest in sucker punching the Champion of Naga and hauling his unconscious ass off the battlefield. He would need collateral pay for that. The main goal was to get him to walk away, simmer down, and not do something stupid. He was too honest for his own good, dishonest ones you could trust in being dishonest. It was the honest ones that worried him, they tended to do stupid things in the name of honor and chivalry.

"Jacob, ah wouldn' advise goin' after th' Grandmaster, savvy? 'e 'as got years o' experience and trainin' in t'e very same field as ye, and yer blinded by rage and grief. 'e has the tactical advantage in both experience and state o' mind, aye? Ye really wan' t' butt 'eads with 'im, cool down and t'ink about yer approach, ah wouldn' go fer 'im w'en 'e is expectin' violence an combat. Drop 'im w'en 'e is womanizin', eh?"

It was a fair bit more direct and invasive than what the horseman attempted, but invasive was needed when emotions were rampant.

Niya

"You are correct, mage, I am technically unarmed as a healer. But I have faith our talented Ser Knight would be able to handle anything that came our way."

Of course, once Marius went about starting to head back towards the convoy of the Shepards, the healer decided right about then that she would be tagging along regardless of whether they wanted her or not, so she fell in trot alongside Marius, and spoke quietly to him, as she assumed he would be the second in command of this rag tag band of heroes, renegades, and mercenaries. Quite a colorful group, really, from what she had seen so far.

"Sir, assuming it is safe to consider you a second in command, I am volunteering my aid as a mounted healer toward your band of fighters. Any questions you might have, I can answer within reason."

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Groovy, as usual, once Dedonus posts, I shall as well.

Miso City Secondary: Escapades and Dramas?

I apologize for the lack of posting or real interaction, just getting finished moving from Connecticut to Georgia, so that has been a bit time consuming.

Miso City Secondary: Escapades and Dramas?

Stukov had vanished, as was often what someone of his nature did. What he was actually doing was not something mentioned in polite company, but the renegade fire truck soon crashed, all of its wheels seeming to have suffered the tragic and unfortunate fate of all rupturing at precisely the same time. The normal solution would have been far too obvious for the Russian boy's tastes, at least in this situation where far too many people were around. Of course, the cops who had been at least half assed in their pursuit of the fire truck caught up to the vehicle, now on its side without a single tire to its name anymore, and would deal with whatever insane bull that was coming out of the man, or woman's, mouth. He didn't really concern himself with it, whistling to himself as he walked out of an alley just ahead of the group heading towards the school, shooting his boss a huge shit eating grin.

"Problem solved, boss! You lot sure move slow, don't you? It's like none of you want to be here!"

The Russian exchange student laughed his ass off at the little comment. Was it blatant cheating on his part that he beat them there? Oh absolutely, and a gross abuse of his talents. He had missed the runners, or had not acknowledged their existence, either was perfectly possible from the far too cheery Russian. Looking over the situation, he rolled his eyes at Akane and commented from where he was as they moved, considering she was vice gripped onto the boy. Ruki was laughing about it and, accordingly, Yoshino was giving zero fucks. Which really left it to him, again, to say something about the matter. He used his own nickname for Akane, considering that working for Yoshino did expose him to the most fascinating characters, Akane included.

"Sumrak, you really needn't be running around vicing onto someone's arm to the point of cutting off blood flow, da?"

Deep Ground

Hmm, sticking to the source material when possible, but artistic license is understandable when it can't be replicated, or would look better for a specific scene.

Miso City Secondary: Escapades and Dramas?

Stukov was smiling as he watched the back and forth between the cop and 'hostage' taker before the cop foisted the bullhorn and badge onto one of the other school goers and stormed off, complaining all the way and causing a breakdown in the robber. The group of folks outside seemed to be debating what was going on, and he almost didn't hear Yoshino's question, noting what he was seeing going on outside. He laughed at the whole mess, at the criminal, the cops, all of them. He loved when days started out comedic like this, it couldn't possibly go down hill from here. Well, it could, but where was the fun in thinking like that? There wasn't any, so all ahead full with the optimism. He finally responded to Yoshino not by answering her question, but asking another of his own. "Hey, boss, some of those guys out there look familiar, da? Think we should go say hey? We aren't anywhere close to a minute near the school anyways, might as well take our time! Oh, and criminal guy, banks might get your more attention then toy stores, da?"

Deep Ground

The Colonel overlooked the wrecked transport, and he could see it had not gone down nicely. Moving fast, the aging sniper was able to get into overlook to see the next two patrolmen get nailed by his apprentice. Good, and from the sounds of it, two more were left from her report. Slinging his rifle over his back, he produced an ancient looking weapon. It was still a single action revolver, that much was not wrong. However, the weapon was firing a modern ammunition, the closest analogue for quick thought was a gyrojet ammunition. The weapon fired with little recoil, only the kick of the munition rocketing itself out of the weapon, which made itself a rather high accuracy tool. Slow firing, due to its nature, but it was deceptively designed, and that had saved his life when modern looking firearms would not have been able to compare.

"Copy, two left. Approaching the wrecked craft now, let's see what's left inside..."

Sliding down the rubble, he trained the pistol on the one man who was left taking cover from the directional fire that had come from Sable, pistol barking as the round whizzed through the air, punching clean through the armor the man was wearing, the spinning and design of the munition burrowing through the armor and carrying well through it. Easy day, that one. No one else was surrounding the craft right now, just a bunch of corpses, and he moved towards the ramp, next round chambered just in case there was trouble inside the transport, someone hiding in wait to ambush either sniper if they came to smoke out any more survivors. He found a survivor alright, but from his position and groaning, he was in no position to really fight right now.

"Got a survivor, barely conscious currently, sweep and clear, then catch up. We take what we can carry and bug out."

Lighting a cigar the Colonel kept his revolver trained on the remaining trooper, not letting himself get distracted by the commonplace thoughts of how a man in such a position would be no threat, which usually preceded said 'no threat' turning around and blasting whatever was foolish enough to think that into pieces. RIP, indeed. But taking a trooper alive could prove useful, if for no other reason than information and bait. So he kept the weapon trained on the trooper, voice decidedly lacking in accent as he addressed the man as consciousness found him.

"Wrong day to come to work, son. No flashy, sudden movements. Hell, you can stay right where you are right now. Listen to me, and you might get to see someplace warm and safe again before the afterlife."

Mass Effect: The Regulators

@Argetlam350 Your approved

@Plank Sinatra Just been a bit on the busy side of things, I'm not letting it drop just yet.

Deep Ground

"Merely those who would not have the nerve for this kind of work anyways, dreamer. And frankly, it is my business. I won't see my teachings go to waste because you lose yourself to those again, and someone makes a canoe out of your head. Clear?"

That was the closest the older sniper would get to showing concern or affection on a usual basis. Atreides wasn't the sort for that kind of activity, and as she claimed first watch and continued on about him going ahead and forgetting about the day dreams, his head lifted and turned to the side, seeming to dismiss his apprentice for a few moments. He then unslung his rifle, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready for engagement. He heard the patrol craft before he saw it, which was not surprising considering how loud those things tended to get on a usual basis. Not too far off either, from the sounds of it, and he gave a brief aside to Sable before vanishing into the surrounding rubble.

"Patrol craft, probably a full compliment. I'll clip her wings, soon as I find her. You stand by to start nailing soldiers. Seems our little stunt got some attention after all, eh dreamer?"

The Colonel vanished into the rubble and woodwork of the doomed landscape, not even a ghost amongst the rubble, moving to avoid even giving the illusion of a spirit, long dead and gone, moving through the landscape. They wouldn't send rookies this fast, not the system he had rebelled against. No, a high profile hit like that would warrant the corperations demanding some good, well trained men be sent in. So he wouldn't treat them like fools or rookies. He never did, but now was more so a reminder of this then ever. He settled in an almost uncomfortable looking position, staring at the horizon through his binoculars, the scope of his rifle far too narrow to scan with readily. Before long, he caught sight of a familiar craft. Fast moving shuttle, low flying to prevent detection, smart in all senses of the word. But when hurtling right towards a sniper who had been applying his skill for the better part of well over 40 years, one saw a suicidal desire in that approach.

Setting his rifle back out, the aging Colonel zeroed his sight in on the fast moving shuttle, taking into account windspeed, velocity of both shuttle and round, likely composition of the front screen of the thing, rotation of the earth was negligible at this range, and other various factors one might have to worry about. Drop included. Breathing steadily, his mind zeroed in on the zone, as some called it, where everything seemed to crawl to a standstill, and a squeeze of the trigger sent the round out the barrel, recoil kicking into his shoulder as he watched the round fly outwards, losing tracking of it. The shuttle pilot would not see it coming, but the rest of the shuttle would no doubt realize what had happened to their pilot when that ride got a whole lot bumpier from the sudden loss of pilot. He exhaled, sounding off over comm to Sable.

"Pilot is KIA, watch the shuttle for survivors of the impending wreck. Let me know what you see, I'm relocating."

And with that, Atreides vanished into the rubble again, intending to move to a new spot rather than risk detection from using a second shot from the same spot, even if the odds of them realizing where it came from were next to nil. No taking unnecessary risks and chances, especially with so few of them around rebelling.

Miso City Secondary: Escapades and Dramas?

Height: 5'11"

Weight: 193 lbs

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Blue

Name: Gregor Stukov

Age: 19

Personality: Stukov, for being a foreign exchange student from Russia, is a rather happy and well spoken individual. Generally grinning and referring to people by nicknames he gifts unto them (In both English, Russian, and otherwise). He is often times grinning and laughing, making some bad and off color joke of one sort or another. He has a bad habit of dragging people around him into what he honestly and his Boss sarcastically call 'Adventures!', which often lead to something going wrong since this is Miso City, after all. But Stukov remains almost sickeningly upbeat and happy throughout all of it, hiding a rather cunning wit and rapier sharp intelligence beneath it. Probably hidden by all the obfuscating stupidity and disarming optimism and happiness, both of these most likely not fooling his Boss, although he keeps it up anyway long after its been pierced, just to be annoying.

Abilities (Uniqueness): Stukov boasts two unusual skills. One, he seems to have an unusual knowledge and practical experience with the occult in general, and seems to be able to apply this to various effects. Secondly, he plays cello, rather well, and hides an old officer's sabre in a hidden compartment under the instrument which he claims he is rather dangerous with when someone finds it. But whether he is, or just bluffing, no one has yet to see.

Other: Beyond his cello case, which is almost always on him somehow, he has a black book that he refuses to let anyone see and can be seen studying before pulling off strange stunts. He also has his lucky coin, a russian denomination that doesn't look like anything ever minted in the history of Russia or the USSR, for that matter. It doesn't even match any records from Tsar ruled Russia and prior, making it another enigma on top of the pile.