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I intend to have a post up today, no promises when specifically today, but today none the less.


-Appearance-
Standing only at around 5'7" tall, and weighing around the Faunus could easily blend in if he put his mind to it, though he hardly does so, even if his gleaming silver eyes are always scanning as if he wasn't making himself well known. Preferring to keep his jet black feathers hidden under the loose fitting coat that he tends to wear, his upper arms and most of his back covered in the sleek feathers, he still manages to show off without giving himself away typically. All lean muscle from living on the streets growing up, he has no shame in his looks otherwise, even if he prefers looser fitting clothes than the snug ones that some more formal folks may prefer. A word to the wise though, don't touch his hat, not if you want to stay on his good side.

-Name-
Ansgar Argenti

-Age-
21

-Species-
Faunus: Raven

-Aura Color-
Dark Blue

-Semblance-
Perception
Unlike some flashy or overtly potent Semblances, Ansgar's own ability overtly does nothing to his surroundings. However, by siphoning off his Aura, he can amplify his reflexes and awareness, making everything else appear to be moving in slow motion, or nearly at a stand still depending on his much he draws off his Aura. To other people, he seems to be not only hyper aware, but gifted with the speed necessary to take advantage of this hyper awareness. The problems being that, one, his already limited Aura capacity is drained at a potentially alarming pace, and two, his body simply isn't designed for the sudden surge of power. The two factors mean that, when pushed into a corner and having to use his Semblance, Ansgar doesn't have long under its effects before either his Aura gives out, or his body does. This is due to the siphoning of his Aura empowers his mind, removing the limits imposed by himself normally and fueling his sudden burst, but does nothing to aid the rest of his body in keeping up without self inflicted damage. As such, either its used as a last resort, or in split second moments to gather information of his situation before acting normally without its full effects. While using its effects, his normally silver eyes turn a brilliant shade of blue and he leaves an after image behind when moving, the spent energy venting off creating the effect.

-Weapon-
Huginn and Muninn
These are his paired revolvers, typically loaded with high caliber ammunition capable of stopping most unprotected human sized targets in a single shot, and able to dump an entire cylinder's worth of ammunition, eight shots per revolver, into a larger or more resilient target alarmingly quickly. When pressed into melee combat, each revolver has an extending bayonet, giving him a combination of stab, slash, and shot that makes him just as dangerous up close and personal as it does outside of arms reach. But when the going gets tough, Ansgar carries a supply of both Dust rounds, which fire off a single shot of a given element, and canisters filled with different kinds of Dust. These canisters slot into the grips of his revolvers, and can be used to either mix with a Dust round, creating secondary elemental effects, or be used to coat the bayonets in Dust, giving the blades other effects depending on what needs arise.

-Other Equipment-
Besides one pouch full of Dust bullets, and another with canisters of Dust meant for augmenting his bayonets or bullets, he has a flask he inherited from his father, with his initials etched into the side of the battered old container.

-History-
Born in an impoverished part of a city, Ansgar's father was a human Hunter while his mother was a Faunus nurse, working at a local clinic. While his father caught figurative flak from some people for marrying a Faunus, he shielded his wife and child from such things as best he could, though he made sure that Ansgar was well aware of the stigma his race brought, according to some people. He was known as a trouble maker and scrapper in school, accused of picking fights with humans and generally being a pain in the ass for most of his teachers. Of course, defending himself and others from bullies wasn't a good excuse to kick the ever living shit out of someone, but his parents swore they would never punish him for standing up for others. His father even taught him how to defend himself in hand to hand, only amplifying the problem as he quickly outpaced any school yard bullies.

Outside of school, Ansgar worked part time as an errand boy, either for the clinic where his mother worked delivering medicine to patients who were too old, or sick, to be out and about on their own, or for whoever needed a reliable set of hands to deliver something in a timely manner. If he wasn't working or in school, he was getting into trouble, running with a local small gang of Faunus that claimed they were only acting to protect other's like them, but once he realized they were trying to put down humans that weren't being oppressive or even helping Faunus, he quickly cut ties with them and even outed them to the local authorities.

Unlike some, when the 'Calm' broke, Ansgar wasn't immediately affected by the issue. Sure, his father had to spend most of his time working and wasn't around anymore, but he was well old enough to handle himself at this point. His mother also set out to help provide emergency medical aid to towns and frontier locations hit by the Grimm, leaving Ansgar with no readily apparent idea what to do. Inspired by his father, he figured he'd go and try his hand as a Hunter, stories from his dad of them defending people, regardless of who they were, from the Grimm giving him an idea that the Hunters and Huntresses could be an example for the rest of the folks around. After all, someone has a Faunus save their skin, with no regard for who they are, its hard to argue those kind of results, right?

-Personality-
Chatty and disrespectful are two quick ways to describe the raven Faunus' typical day to day handling of himself. Always keeping himself relaxed and calm, Ansgar isn't one for acting in the heat of the moment, watching and getting a good handle on things before taking any serious action. This doesn't mean he won't run his mouth however, and he'll as often talk because he enjoys the sound of his own voice as much as he will to get a rise out of someone and see how they'll react. Of course, this hasn't endeared him with most people, considering he'll casually remark on missteps and failures he spots, even if it would be better to wait until later, and someone might be forgiven for mistaking his remarks as attempts at goading others to do better through some insulting remarks. Of course, none of this chatter is going to be about himself, he loves his secrets and will rarely share anything about himself unless completely necessary, and his definition of completely necessary being rather stringent indeed.

Despite the appearance of his chatty, insulting and general 'devil may care' attitude, he keeps a very close eye on his surroundings, letting people judge him for who he plays at being, and while he remains as chatty as ever, he isn't the casual, careless buffoon that he plays at being. Push comes to shove, he'll get serious and, while his remarks and taunts remain, his actions speak far louder than words. Professional would be the best way to describe his actions once he begins taking something seriously, though getting him to actually do so is an exercise in and of itself since he isn't terribly fond of working any harder than completely necessary.

The single most surefire way to royally piss him off and get him to drop the rather relaxed, careless attitude is racism against Faunus. He's seen enough ugly things spawn from it, from shop owners that refuse to serve his kind to being the target of thugs wanting to puff out their chests and make them feel big, he doesn't tolerate a racist, nor a bully. He'll gladly step in to give a sound thrashing to any racist or bully, and will need actively restrained if discretion is needed, and he'll thrash anyone equally in regards to bullies or racism, finding the extremist Faunus groups as disgusting as the racist humans. Far as he is concerned, Grimm will slaughter them all given the chance, with no care for race, why should they care?

-Fighting Style-
Observe, plan, act. Ansgar will gladly let others act first, taking in his surroundings and planning out things for what he knows. Granted, he won't tell anyone what his plan is before acting, preferring to plan around any allies actions and adapt from there rather than trust them to carry out his own plans or orders. He relies on speed and evasion in a fight, unloading his revolvers into the enemy, be they Grimm or otherwise opposed to him, before either engaging in close quarters while reloading, getting stuck in with bayonets and their often times Dust infused strikes, or maintaining his distance, continuing to empty his guns into them until they stop moving. Adaptability and evasion are the names of the game, far as Ansgar is concerned.

Disarming him doesn't really slow him down much in melee, having spent quite a lot of time brawling and learning to fight hand to hand instead of studying like he should have honestly been doing, and he often times relishes the chance to get stuck in like the old days. Anything goes, whether its punches or kicks below the belt, a handful of salt or dirt for the eyes, mock surrender to ambush them when they get close. His up front unarmed fighting is a blend of fast kicks and jabs, loving the feeling of a solid kick landing almost as much as watching them drop from a swift, stern boot to the head.

-Other-
While not a trained medic or doctor, Ansgar is rather handy at getting someone patched together long enough to get them to proper medical attention, thanks to his mother's insistence on him knowing basic first aid.
Jerod Staudinger





Much to Jerod's annoyance, the Gladiator was throwing brute force tactic after brute force tactic his way, even recovering from a swift, very unsportsmanlike kick in rather rapid fashion that gave him little time to even retaliate. The hand on his throat, and blade that had pulled him close, did not last long before he was thrown, landing among the Varjan Warriors. Going for his rapier, he already found the damned thing had been lost, or stolen, after he was thrown. While he had no intent of dying on his ass, the dragon's fire breathing once again created an opening, the Prince Alfonse quickly rushing to his side and hauling him to his feet and asking after his health. "I still breath, Princeling, and that Gladiator owes me a new blade." The venom in his voice was clear, and if were in slightly better preparedness, he'd have already poisoned his blade before engaging the Varjan leader.

Cocking an eyebrow at the Silver Sword thrust into his hands, Jerod was about to question the Prince's plan to fight with a shield, only to see him storm ahead and start working the shield like a weapon. "...Fine, even if Silver isn't my usual style." No sense wasting breath, or time, the sellsword took off at a swift run, dirt freeing itself from his coat while he ran forward. He was moving low and fast, taking full advantage of the path given to him as he eyed another approaching and making their own assault on the Gladiator. Going for his arms and wrists, not a terrible idea, and he would take advantage of the opening made. Keeping an eye for the lance, or attempts to strike or grapple him again, he lunged low, aiming to slip the tip of the Silver Sword right below the ribs and upwards, aiming to avoid the ribcage entirely instead of attempt to match brute force with more force of his own.
@Rithy I will discuss with Andromedai who should post next this evening, and go about getting things moving from there.
Ansgar raised an eyebrow at her response, and decided to not poke fun at her confusion or unfamiliarity with the new world. "Earth, more specifically, an old church of some sorts." The man could not readily say whether or not her world was that extremely different from his own right now, though it would be a topic of interesting discussion, at a later date however. Perhaps her world had different perceptions of the ideas of magic or the like? He had to admit, internally at least, that he was fascinated by the idea of the potential differences between their worlds. Her suggestion brought his attention back to reality, and he nodded briefly. "You'll find that I am rather relaxed when at all possible, Ms. Matoi, so suggestions are welcome. We should indeed go and meet the others we shall be working with, and figure out a war plan from there."

The only real addendum to her suggestion that Ansgar had made was to come up with an actual plan, instead of just heading out and starting to pick fights. He had to wonder what to expect out of the other servents and if anyone would be able to recognize them or puzzle things out at all. So far, he knew a name and what she was capable of in a fight in regards to Ms. Matoi, but beyond that, she was a mystery. Saved her own world, supposidly, but that was it. It would be a bridge that would be burned later though, right now they had others of their team to meet.


-Appearance-
Standing only at around 5'7" tall, and weighing around the Faunus could easily blend in if he put his mind to it, though he hardly does so, even if his gleaming silver eyes are always scanning as if he wasn't making himself well known. Preferring to keep his jet black feathers hidden under the loose fitting coat that he tends to wear, his upper arms and most of his back covered in the sleek feathers, he still manages to show off without giving himself away typically. All lean muscle from living on the streets growing up, he has no shame in his looks otherwise, even if he prefers looser fitting clothes than the snug ones that some more formal folks may prefer. A word to the wise though, don't touch his hat, not if you want to stay on his good side.

-Name-
Ansgar Argenti

-Age-
21

-Species-
Faunus: Raven

-Aura Color-
Dark Blue

-Semblance-
Perception
Unlike some flashy or overtly potent Semblances, Ansgar's own ability overtly does nothing to his surroundings. However, by siphoning off his Aura, he can amplify his reflexes and awareness, making everything else appear to be moving in slow motion, or nearly at a stand still depending on his much he draws off his Aura. To other people, he seems to be not only hyper aware, but gifted with the speed necessary to take advantage of this hyper awareness. The problems being that, one, his already limited Aura capacity is drained at a potentially alarming pace, and two, his body simply isn't designed for the sudden surge of power. The two factors mean that, when pushed into a corner and having to use his Semblance, Ansgar doesn't have long under its effects before either his Aura gives out, or his body does. This is due to the siphoning of his Aura empowers his mind, removing the limits imposed by himself normally and fueling his sudden burst, but does nothing to aid the rest of his body in keeping up without self inflicted damage. As such, either its used as a last resort, or in split second moments to gather information of his situation before acting normally without its full effects. While using its effects, his normally silver eyes turn a brilliant shade of blue and he leaves an after image behind when moving, the spent energy venting off creating the effect.

-Weapon-
Huginn and Muninn
These are his paired revolvers, typically loaded with high caliber ammunition capable of stopping most unprotected human sized targets in a single shot, and able to dump an entire cylinder's worth of ammunition, eight shots per revolver, into a larger or more resilient target alarmingly quickly. When pressed into melee combat, each revolver has an extending bayonet, giving him a combination of stab, slash, and shot that makes him just as dangerous up close and personal as it does outside of arms reach. But when the going gets tough, Ansgar carries a supply of both Dust rounds, which fire off a single shot of a given element, and canisters filled with different kinds of Dust. These canisters slot into the grips of his revolvers, and can be used to either mix with a Dust round, creating secondary elemental effects, or be used to coat the bayonets in Dust, giving the blades other effects depending on what needs arise.

-Other Equipment-
Besides one pouch full of Dust bullets, and another with canisters of Dust meant for augmenting his bayonets or bullets, he has a flask he inherited from his father, with his initials etched into the side of the battered old container.

-History-
Born in an impoverished part of a city, Ansgar's father was a human Hunter while his mother was a Faunus nurse, working at a local clinic. While his father caught figurative flak from some people for marrying a Faunus, he shielded his wife and child from such things as best he could, though he made sure that Ansgar was well aware of the stigma his race brought, according to some people. He was known as a trouble maker and scrapper in school, accused of picking fights with humans and generally being a pain in the ass for most of his teachers. Of course, defending himself and others from bullies wasn't a good excuse to kick the ever living shit out of someone, but his parents swore they would never punish him for standing up for others. His father even taught him how to defend himself in hand to hand, only amplifying the problem as he quickly outpaced any school yard bullies.

Outside of school, Ansgar worked part time as an errand boy, either for the clinic where his mother worked delivering medicine to patients who were too old, or sick, to be out and about on their own, or for whoever needed a reliable set of hands to deliver something in a timely manner. If he wasn't working or in school, he was getting into trouble, running with a local small gang of Faunus that claimed they were only acting to protect other's like them, but once he realized they were trying to put down humans that weren't being oppressive or even helping Faunus, he quickly cut ties with them and even outed them to the local authorities.

Unlike some, when the 'Calm' broke, Ansgar wasn't immediately affected by the issue. Sure, his father had to spend most of his time working and wasn't around anymore, but he was well old enough to handle himself at this point. His mother also set out to help provide emergency medical aid to towns and frontier locations hit by the Grimm, leaving Ansgar with no readily apparent idea what to do. Inspired by his father, he figured he'd go and try his hand as a Hunter, stories from his dad of them defending people, regardless of who they were, from the Grimm giving him an idea that the Hunters and Huntresses could be an example for the rest of the folks around. After all, someone has a Faunus save their skin, with no regard for who they are, its hard to argue those kind of results, right?

-Personality-
Chatty and disrespectful are two quick ways to describe the raven Faunus' typical day to day handling of himself. Always keeping himself relaxed and calm, Ansgar isn't one for acting in the heat of the moment, watching and getting a good handle on things before taking any serious action. This doesn't mean he won't run his mouth however, and he'll as often talk because he enjoys the sound of his own voice as much as he will to get a rise out of someone and see how they'll react. Of course, this hasn't endeared him with most people, considering he'll casually remark on missteps and failures he spots, even if it would be better to wait until later, and someone might be forgiven for mistaking his remarks as attempts at goading others to do better through some insulting remarks. Of course, none of this chatter is going to be about himself, he loves his secrets and will rarely share anything about himself unless completely necessary, and his definition of completely necessary being rather stringent indeed.

Despite the appearance of his chatty, insulting and general 'devil may care' attitude, he keeps a very close eye on his surroundings, letting people judge him for who he plays at being, and while he remains as chatty as ever, he isn't the casual, careless buffoon that he plays at being. Push comes to shove, he'll get serious and, while his remarks and taunts remain, his actions speak far louder than words. Professional would be the best way to describe his actions once he begins taking something seriously, though getting him to actually do so is an exercise in and of itself since he isn't terribly fond of working any harder than completely necessary.

The single most surefire way to royally piss him off and get him to drop the rather relaxed, careless attitude is racism against Faunus. He's seen enough ugly things spawn from it, from shop owners that refuse to serve his kind to being the target of thugs wanting to puff out their chests and make them feel big, he doesn't tolerate a racist, nor a bully. He'll gladly step in to give a sound thrashing to any racist or bully, and will need actively restrained if discretion is needed, and he'll thrash anyone equally in regards to bullies or racism, finding the extremist Faunus groups as disgusting as the racist humans. Far as he is concerned, Grimm will slaughter them all given the chance, with no care for race, why should they care?

-Fighting Style-
Observe, plan, act. Ansgar will gladly let others act first, taking in his surroundings and planning out things for what he knows. Granted, he won't tell anyone what his plan is before acting, preferring to plan around any allies actions and adapt from there rather than trust them to carry out his own plans or orders. He relies on speed and evasion in a fight, unloading his revolvers into the enemy, be they Grimm or otherwise opposed to him, before either engaging in close quarters while reloading, getting stuck in with bayonets and their often times Dust infused strikes, or maintaining his distance, continuing to empty his guns into them until they stop moving. Adaptability and evasion are the names of the game, far as Ansgar is concerned.

Disarming him doesn't really slow him down much in melee, having spent quite a lot of time brawling and learning to fight hand to hand instead of studying like he should have honestly been doing, and he often times relishes the chance to get stuck in like the old days. Anything goes, whether its punches or kicks below the belt, a handful of salt or dirt for the eyes, mock surrender to ambush them when they get close. His up front unarmed fighting is a blend of fast kicks and jabs, loving the feeling of a solid kick landing almost as much as watching them drop from a swift, stern boot to the head.

-Other-
While not a trained medic or doctor, Ansgar is rather handy at getting someone patched together long enough to get them to proper medical attention, thanks to his mother's insistence on him knowing basic first aid.
@DSquiggs Good stuff there, all and all. Heads up, I'm working on a male Faunus atm, so you can keep a running tally in your head on who is playing what, eh?
Hmm, seems fascinating, consider me interested.
Jerod Staudinger





Felling an armored warrior with well placed thrust to the joints in the armor was always a satisfying endeavor, proved the validity of his general lack of armor despite being in the field of battle constantly. Of course, another sucker punch reminded him that Varjans had no concept of fair play, which suited him fine as he spotted that the offender wasn't some random warrior, but the mouthy, loud gladiator fellow. His name wasn't worth remembering, which was a greater insult then death for someone who made their living by gladiatorial combat, if one was honest. Catching that barbed sword against his own, he tested the man's strength and, unsurprisingly, it was a losing contest for the Elibean sellsword. It was about time to fight to his strengths rather than his...

That thought was cut off by the hurtling sound and explosion of a fireball, and a quick glance confirmed that a dragon had joined the fray on their side. Or it was just attacking the most obvious targets, burn that bridge later. Using the distraction that was made, the fool Gladiator taking his eyes off the foe, he turned his blade to the side, putting the Varjan's sword arm between Jerod and the other sword and aiming a swift kick upwards at the gladiator's family jewels, kicking up to avoid the armor on the man's waist. Rather than waste anymore time with low blows, he rolled back and onto his feet, off hand catching a handful of loose dirt and dust off the ground while he took a low stance, blade's tip pointed at the Gladiator and making an off hand remark in regards to his rather irksome ranting on about death. "Die for Varjo, mmh? By all means then, savage, lead by example!"
Ansgar took in this most recent bout of information with a curious look in his eyes. If her regeneration was limited by his mana reserves, he would have to limit active spell casting whenever she was engaged in battle, which meant relying on runes that were previously charged. It did give him a theory he could test later, once he was back in his quarters here, if he could craft a runeword that let him store mana, he could use them like expendable batteries and vastly extend how long he could support her, and he was confident that, as the war dragged on, his reserves would grow both naturally and in his artificially planned manner. Constantly taxing them would act much like strengthening his muscles, and he remarked on the matter, the thoughtful tones in his voice indicating he had plans to circumvent those draining needs once he had some time to plan. "Taxing indeed, it sounds like we would wish to end fights quickly. Though I have some ideas for...emergencies if mana supplies wane."

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise as the uniform began talking of its own accord, introducing itself as Senketsu and it was a Kamui, and promptly explained what that meant. Life fiber filled uniform, sentient being that interfaced with Ms. Matoi, almost like a parasite and a host maintaining a beneficial relationship between each other. Though he made sure to keep his thoughts private, and chuckled after it dawned on him the uniform was trying to be formal and polite. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Senketsu. No need to be so formal with me, we are allies in this endeavor after all."

Ansgar couldn't help but laugh readily at being questioned on whether or not he was a perv, even if the explanation did give credence to that outlook. He did pause to reassure her before she took a curious stance on his remark on not recognizing who she was at all. "Rest assured, if I were of a perverse nature, I would already be staring. I am not one of those to question the means to an ends, and if that means having your power misunderstood as, how did you say it, a 'slut suit', then so be it."

Coupling what Ms. Matoi had said thus far, alongside what he had learned from reports and talk he had gathered from the others that arrived before him to supervise and observe the Grail War, he could put two and two together. With a smirk that could be described as the little brother to the shit eating grin, he elaborated on his realization, all thanks to her remark on saving the entire world. "Saved your entire world, not mine. Oh that clever cup really threw a wrench into things this time. It isn't drawing from our legends and history, its drawing from alternate timelines, possibly completely different realities. Normally those that prepare greatly for the Grail Wars study history in depth, to recognize hostile and allied Servants and their potential weaknesses. But now? Now all bets are off, as they say, and there won't be any predicting our foes until we see them act first hand. We may even run into other figures you would recognize, so this puts us in a rather unique position, as far as Grail Wars go..."
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