Eisenhorn

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

Stukov wasn't exactly in a position to be able to really acknowledge or follow through with the orders to not fulfill his final duties to the Emperor. Coupled with the roar of battle, it was not exactly something he could also claim to have made out in detail. When it came down to it, however, the confusion that Cogs sing song response alongside the sonic weapon meant the Armsman was not ready for the barrage of Krak grenades to be launched, and apparently not enough time to actually warp Stukov clear of the blast radius. Imagine his surprise when the power armored figure of Celeste was blocking the blast, putting that equipment of hers to remarkable use protecting the injured man from the potential friendly fire. A glance past her confirmed the Spawn was far from dead and, if it wasn't for the fact that Celeste had snagged him, he would have engaged and gotten in low and fast to evade the impending second volley of quills, already ready to rage against the thing further in spite of being dragged away. However, the sudden silence was a dead giveaway of something else happening and arriving, and his head turned and tracked the only direction this could have come from.

Crimson and white armor, same design and style as Celeste's, unleashing powers against the Spawn abomination that had been so ready to riddle them with quills again. Stukov observed the continued assault literally rend the Spawn in two, no, not cut in two. Half was dumped into a portal and sealed away, he knew what those looked like, even controlled as it was by the sudden arrival of assistance. Said portal also explained how they got down here so fast as well, of course, but he still felt a twist in his gut at the sight of an opening to the Warp, as briefly as it was open, much as he did when Smiles brought him through her teleportation. Not as bad as that feeling, mind, and even less than the near loss of his old battleship. but the Spawn was finally dead. He leaned against the column, already unslinging his shotgun and starting to reload it one handed, the action slower than if he had two functioning arms. "Good timing is putting it mildly. Damnation is reloading one handed a pain, but at least this model at least can be fired one handed. Won't be accurate though..."

Maya, of course, seemed to have something else in mind as she walked over and almost removed her helmet. Stukov raised an eyebrow at the decision not to, looking the helmeted face dead in the eyes as she spoke about helping him and tending to his injuries. Of course he didn't exactly have time, nor the luxury, to disagree with being treated in such a manner, and the feeling of warmth was very strange indeed compared to the throbbing pain that had lingered after his hand was ruined. He heard the destroyed components of his naval pistol clatter to the ground as the quill was removed as well, and a huff of annoyance betrayed that he was not pleased with losing said weapon so soon. Once his arm was treated he would look down at his arm, warmth suffusing it, though his greatcoat and flak armor beneath was completely riddled with holes and damage. "Armsman, not a Guardsman. The assistance is appreciated either way Glow, and what other injuries? You already cleaned up the minor fact my arm was a pincushion."

"You got a point Smiles, that would have been a bet that I wouldn't have taken happening. And its armsman, not Guardsman, though I have a feeling you lot just like poking fun about that." Stukov chuckled as he shifted and exercised his healed arm cautiously, before glancing down and seeing the quill still embedded in the carapace chestplate, though that one hadn't managed to pierce flesh, so he got a firm grasp on it and, with a grunt, wrenched it clear and tossed it aside. Taking his shotgun in both hands and racking the slide, ready to move forward right behind Celeste, entering the fake governor's office. Of course, that wasn't his concern. The concern was the unholy fucking book that was sitting on the desk and, if he had a say in the matter, he would have seen it destroyed as soon as feasibly possible. Of course such a thing wasn't exactly an option given what was said so far, and Smiles sending a plume of vile smoke up into the air. The Armsman began searching around the office for something suitable to contain the book while Smiles directed a question at Cogs.

"Worst case scenario, we stuff it in a container you prepare with wards and I haul it out of here. If anyone can handle that exposure if the wards fail, I'd be willing to wager it's me. What's an abomination of a book compared to Gellar Field failure?" His tone made it patently clear it was not an option he relished or even particularly wanted to undertake, but was more putting it on the table for the group to consider. The last question wasn't so much hubris as it was grim realism, though he wasn't so brash as to just grab the book and stuff it into a sack. Still, searching the false office would be of dual use. One, find a container that would hold the accursed book as a container, and two, see what other, less glaringly obvious evidence was present. A thought came to mind and he spoke towards Celeste. "Right, questions aside, might want to check in with Sis. Seemed pretty urgent barring the Spawn situation we were dealing with."

Unheroic: The Backwards Castle

"Swimmingly, as I've heard it put. Better than 'drowningly', I dare say." Walker shrugged, already intent on putting that little team huddle behind him, given that he wasn't keen on someone running around with the knowledge that V had. Then again, he'd agreed to it, so he would have to make that particular little divergence in plan work for him. As much of a plan as he had which was, right now, survive long enough to get a proper read on what was going on, and the more he learned, the less he could accurately pin down properly. All vagueness and oddities, even when straight answers were given, he knew some folk who would thrive on this whole song and dance. Emphasis on the past tense most likely, though a certain Kite reviving suddenly did bring everyone's attention back around. So with the mana being thoroughly burnt out, he was now wondering what had moved into its place? He was no magician or conjurer, but he had trouble naturally believing that someone would come back from beyond the brink like that.

"Not to my knowledge, V would know more and, given her comment already, well, that's the sound of someone suffocating, slowly. That mask isn't doing any favors anymore." Walker watched Kite closely, the sounds of, and the eventual movements, of struggle to ride themselves of the mask would produce with morbid attention. The draining color was...strange as well, and frankly reminded Walker of some of the Relics that ended up in the trade around Istvargrad, though this one would have been significantly more dangerous by virtue of it having apparently attempted to...adhere to Kite's face. The color situation was also a reminder he was most certainly nowhere even close to familiar territory, though eventually the mask was wrenched clear and seemed to be seeking a face before coming to rest naturally. Right, give that a wide berth, duly noted. Of course things couldn't just stay simple nor easy, given that Kaath decided to look at him, speaking in a tongue he didn't recognize, and began advancing with her sword readied. And of course V took offense to this, attempting to intercede. Great.

"V, if Kite burnt out completely we can't know how the recovery will look. More importantly, we don't know what they're saying. Kaath, looking to put that sword to use on Kite, or the mask they managed to ditch?" Walker knew a fight with Kaath, even in their current, slightly improved state, but they could possibly figure things out better. Survival wasn't always about doing the right thing, but the right thing to see another day. Still, his muscles tensed and prepared to move as quickly as he could muster if he had to drag Kite out of the way of an attack. He couldn't stop Kaath from making a move, not with a weapon that size, but he could make the target of said attack much harder to strike. He didn't know enough about Kaath's capabilities to guess, and probably wouldn't for some time, but he did feel obliged to at least make an effort on Kite's behalf before leaving them dangling in the wind, as the saying often went. If the mask was the target, or hell, the residue it left, that was another thing entirely.

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

---

"Just had to open your mouth, eh boy wond..ACK!" Veloce had tried to recover from the redirecting throw with a flap of the wings, but rather than taking the boomerang square in the back, in caught him by the legs and promptly sent him tumbling over and into the ground, picking himself up in time to see the whirling pipe after Mr. Ego over there. Proper stance, golden energy, same as the one on the pipe currently assaulting Mr. Ego. A quick scan before launching himself back in had the one kid up on some big piece of scrap, while Shortstop hadn't even engaged yet. Fast lunges would just keep getting him tossed around, and Auron didn't even need to wield a weapon to fight with it. Tricky, but he was practically grinning ear to ear as he readjusted his hat, time for something a bit more thoughtful instead of just mindlessly charging. And by more thoughtful, it meant advancing with another idea in mind. Mostly to make a low flyby, see what Shortstop had in mind and adapt from there.

"And here I thought this was going to be a boring first day of class, that's a clever trick right there! I'll have to remember it." Despite four to one being outclassed, it wasn't even remotely bothering Veloce. Meant this man knew what he was doing, and that was good, least after they were done getting the crap kicked out of them. As he spoke his wings flapped again, kicking up a dust storm via his semblance that intended to obscure the space between him and the Overseer. Unlike before, however, he wasn't just going to come barreling out of the dusty cloud trying to get thrown again, this time hurtling at a low ascending angle, no longer having the gauntlet and gladius out, instead carrying Mocking Bird in its ranged form, a bayoneted shotgun. He was cranking off shotgun blasts as fast as he could work the action as he did a low fly by from what would be the Overseer's left if he were to face Veloce head on. Since Mr. Ego had gotten launched, that meant no worries about friendly fire, and throwing someone into gunfire was a lot less easy than a slower moving boomerang. Boomerangs, really, they had guns for a reason!

The entire time he would be in the air he was watching for an opening to swoop in and strike, Veloce didn't exactly like just hanging back and firing off buckshot, and he doubted it would work terribly well in the long term. Even if he had to just move in and make his own opening, or prevent Mr. Ego or Shortstop from possibly getting the ever living crap kicked out of them by this 'nice pants', well, they were a team. Still, he wasn't keen on rushing in again until after the next attacks so he didn't get lobbed into another boomerang. "Oi, Mr. Ego, explain to me later why your throwing around a damn boomerang, yeah?!"

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

---

"Well this is just splendid, day one and already getting into a scrap. In a scrapyard no less, how fitting!" The faunus seemed far more pleased with the realization that his words made plainly clear, a loose grin resting on his face as crystal blue eyes scanned their surroundings first, before meeting the icy counterparts resting in that noggin of their overseer. Sir or overseer until proven, well that was no fun at all. Of course, during his scanning and bemused thoughts, the solitary lady of the four stepped forward, introducing herself as well as where she was from, while questioning whether or not they were all supposed to attack at once, or one at a time. Well, that left him with a wonderful opening to simply make his own move then, since she seemed determined to talk in spite of the figurative gauntlet thrown down. His own rather haphazard upbringing and training might show, but hell, what was learning without a few hard knocks along the way? He stretched while chattering as they would soon to find was the normal for him, remarking on her question as he reached behind him, apparently stretching still.

"Way I see it Shortstop, either way this should be a good showing. And after its all said and done, imagine if he had a real weapon. Name's Veloce Argenti, by the by, I'm sure we'll all just get along nice and swimmingly." With that, rather than wait for an answer on one by one versus as a group, the Raven faunus launched himself forward, the apparent stretch really having been to arm himself, metallic gauntlet over his left hand and forearm catching light as readily as the gladius in his right, using his wings and a touch of his Semblance to launch himself forward fast and low and cover ground faster than he could have simply running. He would be lunging with his sword while keeping half an eye on the pipe, though his focus would be on pressing the assault as much as possible, meaning that he would be putting that gauntlet to good use should an opening present itself. If they were meant to fight as a group, well, given Shortstop was flashing her guns, he could argue it would create an opening for her to open fire. Of course he couldn't keep his mouth shut as he launched forward, as was his want in life.

"Let's see how much hate we'll really need!"

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

The Bird Brain

Huntsman Sheet

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, Veloce isn't one for long, complex plans, preferring to just live in the moment and let the whims of fate carry him along. Fittingly, his mouth is usually running, chattering and commenting on the situation, his surroundings, his current companions, or just about nothing in particular. 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. Add in a nasty habit of casually lifting or otherwise 'acquiring' trinkets or other shiny objects that catch his eye and fancy, and he can an abrasive, though useful, friend to have. When push comes to shove, he won't leave his team hanging, that's just poor form, though he will give them a ribbing over needing some chatty nuisance like him bailing them out of trouble.

Appearance

Standing at roughly 5'11", with crystal blue eyes, Veloce prefers a rather flashy or at least showy outfit, often times letting his wings spread freely on his back, though begrudgingly can conceal them if need be. The long coat was originally his father's, as was the hat that goes with it, although both have been modified to fit the raven faunus and his unique needs for clothing. All lean muscle from getting into trouble and generally keeping himself in peak physical shape, which means less weight on his wings when he needs to do some brisk getaways, that being said, he clearly prides himself on being well kept and keeping his fashion in good repair. He seems to prefer lightweight clothing, both from a practical angle as well as a comfort one, and sharp eyes can see that he tends to overheat relatively easily compared to others.

Veloce's build tends to be fairly obvious when facing from the front, given he leaves his long coat open and his general attire lacks a great deal of modesty, to put it mildly. Besides the gilded long coat, he has a belt of cartridges for his personal weapon of choice, all conventional rounds while he keeps any possible Dust cartridges in a marginally safer interior pocket of his coat. Besides the rather plain slacks, he has a well worn pair of boots that he's had for pretty much after he hit the end of puberty, and the wear does show. Last of note is his hat, which Veloce is fiercely protective of, while the emerald green pendant is equally important to him, and he is pretty much never seen without either of the accessories.

“Much to many people's chagrin, I really just love the sound of my own voice.”

| N a m e: |

Veloce Argenti

| Alias|Nickames|Titles: |

Bird Brain, V

| G e n d e r: |

Male

| A g e: |

17

| Kingdom of Origin: |

Vacuo

| Race: |

Faunus: Raven | Wings

| History: |

Veloce can't really lay claim to any particularly traumatic, storied, or otherwise noteworthy upbringing, as far as anyone can get him to share at least. Born in a fairly quiet town, with enough through traffic to keep it modestly bustling. Veloce was raised by both of his Faunus parents, both working locally around the town, and both focused on trying to raise the young Veloce right. Well, tried to at any rate, since he always tended to have a nasty case of wanderlust and getting easily bored with the quiet life. Of course, that meant he was going to get himself into trouble by virtue of wanting to have something interesting to do, much to both of his parents annoyance with his antics and general tomfoolery. Doubly so since, in spite of the relative peace of the town he lived in, there was still the rising trouble with bandits and Grimm activity to consider. Of course, it would be an encounter with a Huntsman that would end up really defining his early childhood.

Deciding he had gotten bored of just running around and being a problem child in town, Veloce decided to go exploring the local surrounding wastes, which he had the misfortune of crossing paths with a group of bandits that had moved in to see about causing trouble with the local trade, since they couldn't get past the town defenses proper. Figuring the boy would be an easy ransom, Veloce elected to leg it instead, fleeing and giving them a good chase, though if it wasn't for running into a certain Huntsman who was out looking for the exact same group of bandits, his ultimate fate would have been far less pleasant given how irritable the group was over having to chase what was supposed to be an easy mark down and 'clip his wings'. Fortunately that didn't come to pass, the Huntsman making fairly short work of the bandit group and getting the young boy back to his family who, understandably, were rather furious with Veloce for not only wandering off but getting involved with a Huntsman, even if it was by that huntsman's doing that he was safe and sound.

The Huntsman stuck around for a bit to make sure no other trouble happened, and Veloce would ignore every attempt by his family to keep him as far away from the man as possible, listening to his stories, hearing about the schooling and training, how to make his own weapon, being regaled and deciding, despite his age at the time, he was going straight to the academy some day and there wasn't a person in the town who could stop him. After the Huntsman left, his parents tried to shake the influence that had settled in, but after finding the beginnings of a crude weapon that he'd started work on after some research, relented and at least helped make sure he'd do it right and not get himself hurt. With better supplies and support, he would focus on doing everything he could to prepare to go to the Academy and attempt to join. He even spent time at a more local school that would give him skills in survival and self defense while using their facilities to further work on his weapon. Imagine his surprise when he'd see the same Huntsman come back to visit and check on the young Faunus, the man was on a job to head out into the Wastes and see off some Grimm before they became too much of a problem.

Showing off his progress with pride, Veloce received a rather modest gift from the Huntsman, the man's hat, and the man spent several weeks with the boy while he waited for the rest of his team to catch up and prepare, poking fun at the man for seeming to take this young, though a teenager now, boy under his metaphorical wing. Then the team would head out, Veloce promising to keep the hat safe until they crossed paths again. As such things go, however, Veloce never saw the Huntsman again, and just hoped that they couldn't return the same way they came back, even though part of him certainly knew better. Life wasn't easy, even in the relative security of his hometown, and even a Huntsman could bite the dust as it were. He redoubled his efforts, never seen without the hat, and continued to work at the local school until he could graduate and decide where to go with life.

Sure, he had heard of other students wanting to go abroad, study at other academies, make something of themselves and see how other places worked. Veloce couldn't really imagine ditching his homeland, rough and tumble as it was, and was determined to make good on his intentions ever since he'd had that old Huntsman bail him out of some serious trouble with those bandits. Head to Shade, earn his place in their ranks, and keep coming up in the world. Nevermind most of the folks in his hometown were against it, openly or subtly, he'd prove them wrong, one way or another.

| Semblance: |

Veloce's semblance is what he calls Storm Herald, something that he is still fine tuning his means of manipulating. In short, he can cause localized windstorms and gusts, and while not enough to directly harm on their own yet, he has picked up quite a few tricks. In dusty, sandy, or areas that otherwise contain copious amounts of loose material, he can whip up dust, sand, ect storms that, while very local and shortlived, are very good at obscuring vision and being quite the distraction. Another one he is fond of is using the gusts to bolster his ability to fly, coasting far further than he might otherwise normally be able to. He can also use these gusts and windstorms to throw off folks or Grimm that might be leaping about a lot, throwing off their landings or, if driven enough or used on a light enough target, send them flailing into the air. Of course, there are other minor, rather childish tricks he can employ (purely for 'comedic' purposes), but being able to manipulate wind and air patterns local to him is something he is eager to expand his tricks with.

| Weapon and Fighting Style: |

Veloce has built for himself a weapon he jokingly calls Mocking Bird, a rather sturdy looking pump action shotgun with a curiously shaped bayonet attached to it. This is its ranged form, capable of cranking off either buckshot or slugs in rather fast paced volleys, capable of slamfiring through all its loaded ammo in rather short order. Sturdy enough to use in melee like it is, this is not its intended melee form, the bayonet detaching into a Gladius while the rest of the gun folds and forms a gauntlet on Veloce's off arm, no longer capable of firing in this state but providing some serious oomph to his punches while the sword itself proves to work wonders in its intended role as a, well, sword! It has a compact travel form, collapsing into a box shaped form that can be easily carried over the shoulder or across the back as needed.

When it comes to fighting, Veloce is hyper aggressive in the assault, not wanting to leave openings or let things drag out for too long. Closing the distance as soon as possible, either cranking off shots from the Mocking Bird or, rarely, sneaking close enough to simply spring the assault, the young faunus doesn't believe in fair play when it comes to a fight. Blows below the belt, a handful for the eyes, every fight is a brawl, and he intends to end them as quick and dirty as possible. And he has found that he lives for these scraps and brawls, though the farther away he is from someone, the more trouble he has in actually seriously impacting them since he tend to forget slugs exist for his weapon. That being said, his Semblance helps close the gap when spotted from a distance, either obscuring or just bolstering his ability to cover ground quickly, and he really does not do well when he can't get in close, something he is painfully aware of most of the time when it becomes an issue.

| Strengths and Weakness: |

+: Agile and dexterous.
+: Highly flexible on the fly (and can fly for short periods).
+: Quite the street fighter at heart, and pragmatic to go along with it.

-: No practical experience with Dust, or much in the way of theoretical beyond the absolute basics.
-: Just cannot shut up to save his life (Extremely poor social skills).
-: Terrible at actually planning ahead more than a few moments at a time.

| Greatest Fear/Fatal Flaw: |

Veloc's unspoken drive to prove his family back home wrong about his 'mistaken' choice of career can prove to drive him to being reckless. Coupled with his 'wherever fate takes me' attitude towards plans and he can find himself in pretty far over his head since he just did not think that far ahead, and this was what ended up nearly landing him neatly in the grasps of the bandits from his younger years. Combine the two, and you get someone who has something to prove and has no real long term plans in place for how he exactly plans to make his point, meaning he could develop a pretty nasty habit of getting into trouble when trying to make a point. When it comes to fear, as much as he would say he has no great single fear, it would be actually finding out what happened to the man who inspired him to become a Huntsman, mostly if that fate was indeed as bad as part of him fears. He would probably not handle hearing of a bad end to this man well, and almost avoids any information that could lead to learning of what happened to the man, assuming it to be negative information.

| Miscs : |

Veloce has a modest collection of trinkets, baubles, and nick knacks that he's collected throughout his childhood and teenage years, mostly shiny bits that caught his eye and he keeps in a modestly sized, and very thoroughly locked, footlocker. He is routinely keeping an eye out for new trinkets to add to his collection, and in fact wears the pride of said collection as his necklace.

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

Excuse me while I slip in my own modest submission right before the deadline, got to love shift work delays.

The Bird Brain

Huntsman Sheet

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, Veloce isn't one for long, complex plans, preferring to just live in the moment and let the whims of fate carry him along. Fittingly, his mouth is usually running, chattering and commenting on the situation, his surroundings, his current companions, or just about nothing in particular. 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. Add in a nasty habit of casually lifting or otherwise 'acquiring' trinkets or other shiny objects that catch his eye and fancy, and he can an abrasive, though useful, friend to have. When push comes to shove, he won't leave his team hanging, that's just poor form, though he will give them a ribbing over needing some chatty nuisance like him bailing them out of trouble.

Appearance

Standing at roughly 5'11", with crystal blue eyes, Veloce prefers a rather flashy or at least showy outfit, often times letting his wings spread freely on his back, though begrudgingly can conceal them if need be. The long coat was originally his father's, as was the hat that goes with it, although both have been modified to fit the raven faunus and his unique needs for clothing. All lean muscle from getting into trouble and generally keeping himself in peak physical shape, which means less weight on his wings when he needs to do some brisk getaways, that being said, he clearly prides himself on being well kept and keeping his fashion in good repair. He seems to prefer lightweight clothing, both from a practical angle as well as a comfort one, and sharp eyes can see that he tends to overheat relatively easily compared to others.

Veloce's build tends to be fairly obvious when facing from the front, given he leaves his long coat open and his general attire lacks a great deal of modesty, to put it mildly. Besides the gilded long coat, he has a belt of cartridges for his personal weapon of choice, all conventional rounds while he keeps any possible Dust cartridges in a marginally safer interior pocket of his coat. Besides the rather plain slacks, he has a well worn pair of boots that he's had for pretty much after he hit the end of puberty, and the wear does show. Last of note is his hat, which Veloce is fiercely protective of, while the emerald green pendant is equally important to him, and he is pretty much never seen without either of the accessories.

“Much to many people's chagrin, I really just love the sound of my own voice.”

| N a m e: |

Veloce Argenti

| Alias|Nickames|Titles: |

Bird Brain, V

| G e n d e r: |

Male

| A g e: |

17

| Kingdom of Origin: |

Vacuo

| Race: |

Faunus: Raven | Wings

| History: |

Veloce can't really lay claim to any particularly traumatic, storied, or otherwise noteworthy upbringing, as far as anyone can get him to share at least. Born in a fairly quiet town, with enough through traffic to keep it modestly bustling. Veloce was raised by both of his Faunus parents, both working locally around the town, and both focused on trying to raise the young Veloce right. Well, tried to at any rate, since he always tended to have a nasty case of wanderlust and getting easily bored with the quiet life. Of course, that meant he was going to get himself into trouble by virtue of wanting to have something interesting to do, much to both of his parents annoyance with his antics and general tomfoolery. Doubly so since, in spite of the relative peace of the town he lived in, there was still the rising trouble with bandits and Grimm activity to consider. Of course, it would be an encounter with a Huntsman that would end up really defining his early childhood.

Deciding he had gotten bored of just running around and being a problem child in town, Veloce decided to go exploring the local surrounding wastes, which he had the misfortune of crossing paths with a group of bandits that had moved in to see about causing trouble with the local trade, since they couldn't get past the town defenses proper. Figuring the boy would be an easy ransom, Veloce elected to leg it instead, fleeing and giving them a good chase, though if it wasn't for running into a certain Huntsman who was out looking for the exact same group of bandits, his ultimate fate would have been far less pleasant given how irritable the group was over having to chase what was supposed to be an easy mark down and 'clip his wings'. Fortunately that didn't come to pass, the Huntsman making fairly short work of the bandit group and getting the young boy back to his family who, understandably, were rather furious with Veloce for not only wandering off but getting involved with a Huntsman, even if it was by that huntsman's doing that he was safe and sound.

The Huntsman stuck around for a bit to make sure no other trouble happened, and Veloce would ignore every attempt by his family to keep him as far away from the man as possible, listening to his stories, hearing about the schooling and training, how to make his own weapon, being regaled and deciding, despite his age at the time, he was going straight to the academy some day and there wasn't a person in the town who could stop him. After the Huntsman left, his parents tried to shake the influence that had settled in, but after finding the beginnings of a crude weapon that he'd started work on after some research, relented and at least helped make sure he'd do it right and not get himself hurt. With better supplies and support, he would focus on doing everything he could to prepare to go to the Academy and attempt to join. He even spent time at a more local school that would give him skills in survival and self defense while using their facilities to further work on his weapon. Imagine his surprise when he'd see the same Huntsman come back to visit and check on the young Faunus, the man was on a job to head out into the Wastes and see off some Grimm before they became too much of a problem.

Showing off his progress with pride, Veloce received a rather modest gift from the Huntsman, the man's hat, and the man spent several weeks with the boy while he waited for the rest of his team to catch up and prepare, poking fun at the man for seeming to take this young, though a teenager now, boy under his metaphorical wing. Then the team would head out, Veloce promising to keep the hat safe until they crossed paths again. As such things go, however, Veloce never saw the Huntsman again, and just hoped that they couldn't return the same way they came back, even though part of him certainly knew better. Life wasn't easy, even in the relative security of his hometown, and even a Huntsman could bite the dust as it were. He redoubled his efforts, never seen without the hat, and continued to work at the local school until he could graduate and decide where to go with life.

Sure, he had heard of other students wanting to go abroad, study at other academies, make something of themselves and see how other places worked. Veloce couldn't really imagine ditching his homeland, rough and tumble as it was, and was determined to make good on his intentions ever since he'd had that old Huntsman bail him out of some serious trouble with those bandits. Head to Shade, earn his place in their ranks, and keep coming up in the world. Nevermind most of the folks in his hometown were against it, openly or subtly, he'd prove them wrong, one way or another.

| Semblance: |

Veloce's semblance is what he calls Storm Herald, something that he is still fine tuning his means of manipulating. In short, he can cause localized windstorms and gusts, and while not enough to directly harm on their own yet, he has picked up quite a few tricks. In dusty, sandy, or areas that otherwise contain copious amounts of loose material, he can whip up dust, sand, ect storms that, while very local and shortlived, are very good at obscuring vision and being quite the distraction. Another one he is fond of is using the gusts to bolster his ability to fly, coasting far further than he might otherwise normally be able to. He can also use these gusts and windstorms to throw off folks or Grimm that might be leaping about a lot, throwing off their landings or, if driven enough or used on a light enough target, send them flailing into the air. Of course, there are other minor, rather childish tricks he can employ (purely for 'comedic' purposes), but being able to manipulate wind and air patterns local to him is something he is eager to expand his tricks with.

| Weapon and Fighting Style: |

Veloce has built for himself a weapon he jokingly calls Mocking Bird, a rather sturdy looking pump action shotgun with a curiously shaped bayonet attached to it. This is its ranged form, capable of cranking off either buckshot or slugs in rather fast paced volleys, capable of slamfiring through all its loaded ammo in rather short order. Sturdy enough to use in melee like it is, this is not its intended melee form, the bayonet detaching into a Gladius while the rest of the gun folds and forms a gauntlet on Veloce's off arm, no longer capable of firing in this state but providing some serious oomph to his punches while the sword itself proves to work wonders in its intended role as a, well, sword! It has a compact travel form, collapsing into a box shaped form that can be easily carried over the shoulder or across the back as needed.

When it comes to fighting, Veloce is hyper aggressive in the assault, not wanting to leave openings or let things drag out for too long. Closing the distance as soon as possible, either cranking off shots from the Mocking Bird or, rarely, sneaking close enough to simply spring the assault, the young faunus doesn't believe in fair play when it comes to a fight. Blows below the belt, a handful for the eyes, every fight is a brawl, and he intends to end them as quick and dirty as possible. And he has found that he lives for these scraps and brawls, though the farther away he is from someone, the more trouble he has in actually seriously impacting them since he tend to forget slugs exist for his weapon. That being said, his Semblance helps close the gap when spotted from a distance, either obscuring or just bolstering his ability to cover ground quickly, and he really does not do well when he can't get in close, something he is painfully aware of most of the time when it becomes an issue.

| Strengths and Weakness: |

+: Agile and dexterous.
+: Highly flexible on the fly (and can fly for short periods).
+: Quite the street fighter at heart, and pragmatic to go along with it.

-: No practical experience with Dust, or much in the way of theoretical beyond the absolute basics.
-: Just cannot shut up to save his life (Extremely poor social skills).
-: Terrible at actually planning ahead more than a few moments at a time.

| Greatest Fear/Fatal Flaw: |

Veloc's unspoken drive to prove his family back home wrong about his 'mistaken' choice of career can prove to drive him to being reckless. Coupled with his 'wherever fate takes me' attitude towards plans and he can find himself in pretty far over his head since he just did not think that far ahead, and this was what ended up nearly landing him neatly in the grasps of the bandits from his younger years. Combine the two, and you get someone who has something to prove and has no real long term plans in place for how he exactly plans to make his point, meaning he could develop a pretty nasty habit of getting into trouble when trying to make a point. When it comes to fear, as much as he would say he has no great single fear, it would be actually finding out what happened to the man who inspired him to become a Huntsman, mostly if that fate was indeed as bad as part of him fears. He would probably not handle hearing of a bad end to this man well, and almost avoids any information that could lead to learning of what happened to the man, assuming it to be negative information.

| Miscs : |

Veloce has a modest collection of trinkets, baubles, and nick knacks that he's collected throughout his childhood and teenage years, mostly shiny bits that caught his eye and he keeps in a modestly sized, and very thoroughly locked, footlocker. He is routinely keeping an eye out for new trinkets to add to his collection, and in fact wears the pride of said collection as his necklace.

RWBY: Chasing Shadows

I've had a Faunus I've been itching to see good use with, so count me in, sure as sure.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

<Snipped quote by rivaan>

My Hider

@Rithy

"3.6 Manifestations of the Warp. Not great, not terrible."

"The meter only goes up to 3.6!"

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

Stukov silently thanked the Throne that the buckshot tore apart the Horror he'd fired on, seeing the fast work of the rest of the team clean up the horrors in rather short order. Especially the combination of psyker powers and judicious application of grenades. Still, that left the Chaos Spawn that seemed to no longer be content simply lingering and trying to look menacing, instead choosing to engage. The armsman was ready to charge it when he saw it crouch down, and then launch a volley of these quill things at the retinue as a whole. Given his closer proximity, Stukov had little recourse but to shield his vitals and pray. He grunted in pain as his left arm was turned into a pincushion, the flak armor under the greatcoat's sleeves doing little to protect against the attack compared to what it was designed to work against, and he could feel one in the meat of his thigh as well as one that was scraping against his stomach, that had punched in at an angle through the carapace armor and nearly impaled him in the gut as well. He tried to reach down to rip that quill out of the armor, but he realized the naval pistol was quite literally pinned to his hand at the moment, rendering pretty much his entire left arm useless. Great.

He couldn't work a pump action shotgun one handed, and the quill that left the naval pistol stuck to his hand probably ruined the magazine well as well, meaning he likely only had a few shots left in it assuming it worked at all still. That left the chainsword and using the pistol as a bludgeon. Either way he couldn't easily evade another volley of those quills and he raised the chainsword as he stormed forward in the wake of the attack, weapon roaring to life as he charged its left side, his injuries plainly evident as he engaged on the side that didn't have the large, hulking pincer, looking to kill the thing as fast as he could as he engaged it with the only weapons he had left to him. Getting its attention would let the others focus on bringing the thing down, and then they could worry about whatever it was that was being a problem that Sis tried to get a hold of them over. He'd dropped any pretenses of trying to speak further, teeth gritted in anger, and in pain, as he focused his efforts on assaulting the Spawn with chainsword and faith.

Warhammer 40k: Enigmas of the Warp

"Not now, entertaining daemons is never worth the cost!" Stukov was glaring at the other two, Smiles was concerning him given the back and forth she seemed to be having with herself. Coupled with those....damned eyes in the jump through the warp, and he would have questions that might need answering. Of course, the illusion fizzled out after commenting on being such a strange bunch and leaving them a gift. No gift from a warp spawned abomination was going to be worth waiting for, but given they had deeper to breach into this cult's lair, well, they had little choice in the matter. Of course, with the illusion vanishing, the runes on the door also vanished, and the silence settled in. That was....bad. Very bad, if he had to hazard a guess that door was holding this Throne damned 'gift' back, and it was only a matter of moments before they were dealing with whatever was going to make their lives more difficult. He braced, every muscle tensed and ready to launch in any direction or action he was capable of.

With the doors going as violently as they did, the Armsman darted sideways, evading the thoroughly destroyed remains of the door, and of course things got worse. Horrors, and a Warp Spawn, all with Tzeentchian influence. That meant flight, the horrors splitting upon trauma, sorcery and the works. He hated Horrors, they didn't know when to stay banished, and he leveled the shotgun and racked a shell, taking aim as it rushed him. Uttering a silent prayer to the Throne above, he opened fire, slam firing the shotgun into the oncoming Horrors, starting from the one immediately coming for him. The first one he hit, rather than simply ignoring the damage or splitting, seemed to reel and actually get torn apart by the blast, sharp eyes seeing the flashes of the blessed buckshot tearing the Horror apart. He kept firing until it was very thoroughly gone, racking the next shell and taking aim at the Spawn.

"Deal with the rest, I'll get its attention!" Stukov went to slam fire the weapon at the Spawn, but only got a single shell of blessed buckshot off, the resounding, worrying sound of the weapon running empty answering his attempts to keep firing. Throwing it back on the sling, the Armsman ripped the chain cutlass from its sheath, the roar of the weapon coming to life as he drew his Naval Pistol, an autopistol designed for maximum damage to flesh without damaging components. He opened up with the pistol, ready to respond to either a deceptively fast charge, Spawn were tricky like that, or if the Horrors tried to turn from their targets of choice. He was ready, though, ready to face the warp spawned abominations again. Throne above preserve him and his damned fool allies.