Academic who somehow got conned into working for the Government. Been role-playing both on forums and TTRPGs for close to twenty years at this point. I'm like 99% retired from active RPing on the Guild, but I still like to poke my head onto here once in a while to make sure that I didn't leave the lights on.
The post for Scott is about 80% complete at the moment and should be done by tonight. The next post in Richard Rider's ongoing war against Thanos has moved out of the conception phase and into the writing phase as well. I'm free today so expect Scott's post at the least.
So I'm a terrible liar who totally forgot/ was too busy/ was too lazy to finish said posts. That being said I'm working on those posts now. Sooo expect them soonish hopefully?
Alright then managed to get something about between the daily havoc of everyday life.
Oh and I figure if everyone else is doing it I might as well also join the @Rockette banner train. lol If it wouldn't be too much of a hassle of course! Mr. Tosches' face claim is Mr. Beau Foster and Ms. Cacciatore's is Anya Summers.
Speaking of which. @Prisk I changed the picture for Roxelana and I'm curious to know if you can see this one now?
T H E F I E L D S // Graham Tosches // After Shock
Wake up.
The sound of some blaring klaxon, the rumble of the ground around them as fiery judgment still rained down from above, pain racing through the body like a live current. A moment ago he was in the garage giving greetings and small jokes to the other Guardians as they arrived. Now he was in hell. Eyes opened for a moment, a pale face looking down framed by hair long and the color of sunshine. Darkness followed again soon after. His eyes would not open again for some measure of time was it seconds, minutes, whatever it was it felt like an eternity. This time though the old familiar face was nowhere to be seen only the view of a world turned on its side. The others were starting to awake or had already started to move again, spirits having shielded them from the brunt of the blast. He looked down at his own arms skin a combination of fiery red and pitch black like hardening magma fading away upon sight back to it’s normal pale constancy.
He reached backward bruised and battered body yelling outwards in mute protest as he grabbed one of the daggers and pulled it free. Moments before he had casted a prayer upwards into the unforgiving expanse; his wish was simple release from the iron coffin. He didn’t think that he would get a response so quickly. Nevertheless the time for contemplation had long since departed. He brought the dagger up to the heavy harness that held him suspended in the air. He had just managed to strap into the chair when the blast went off. He was thankful for that considering if he hadn’t he would've been thrown about the cabin like a forgotten child’s toy in the wash. Problem was now that he was stuck suspended in the air as the locking mechanism had jammed from the trauma. So he went to work sawing away the straps cutting at the thick fibers until he had enough slack to slip out of them and onto the ‘floor’ with a light thud.
He felt the pain in his legs even form the slight force of the fall. Lesalo had prevented any major damage from occurring no broken bones or anything major but he was certainly going to be sore. He looked about the overturned transport to his left the others lead by Monika were crawling out of the broken down corpse and to his right deeper inside lead the door to the cockpit. He looked between the two for a moment but his gaze brought him back to the cockpit once more and he knew he had to do something. Rising his hand in a single to wait a moment he disappeared deeper into the wreckage taking deep breaths. In and out. In and out.
The cockpit was a hellscape of blood and metal. The force even from only partial contact with the plasma had caved in the armor like a finger pressing into an egg shell sending fragments of metal and glass at high speeds into the pilot and copilot. He moved quickly the constant rumble as more artillery and plasma fell around them reminding him of the urgency of the situation. The two were soon cut free from the bonds that held them to their chairs and laid down on the floor. Graham checked the pilot first feeling for a pulse but he received only silence instead. So he reached his hand down to grab at the small glittering object dangling about the man’s neck. It was a small clear crystallin object that when activated by Graham on body heat activated like some miniature display. The display showed a picture of the man with his name smiling, his date of birth, a blood type and place of origin. They were standard issue military dog tags, the military did it’s best to remember its own. He looked once more from the picture of the smiling man to his battered corpse before he sighed and stashed the small crystal away in a pocket. He moved on to the copilot next but as he reached for the crystal that dangled about his neck, a hand slick with blood grasped his arm tightly. He looked down at the soldier a boy maybe about eighteen with a few bare spots of facial hair dotting his face. Unlike the pilot though his eyes were alive if glazed over with pain and shock. Graham starred at him as the boy spoke through the blood forming up in his mouth.
“H-h-h-help me. Sir.” “Yeah... of course.” Graham replied as he knelt down and began to cut away at the man’s blood soaked clothes with his dagger. “I don’t want to..... I don’t want to die.” “You're not going to die kid. Just think... about something else.” “Like what?” “I don’t know you have a home don’t you? Where do you come from?” Graham spoke as he fought the shaking in his own hands as he pulled away the clothes form the body. He let out a deep exhale as he saw the extent of the damage. While stray shards of glass and metal had produced numerous lacerations that main damage was from a large metal shaft once part of the support structure now jammed into the boy’s chest stopping just short of the heart. “I’m from Kellry, it’s a small town up north along the Boan about three hours away from New Atrias.” “I know the place. I was sweet on a girl from there once.” “R-really?” “Yeah it didn’t end too well. Have any family there?” Graham asked trying to keep the boy preoccupied as he continued to inspect the wound. He heard a voice coming from further within the vehicle probably wondering where he went. “M-m-my mum and two younger brothers. My dad is in the air force so we don’t see him much but he was proud of me when I signed up for the army. “I’m sure he was.” “So how bad is it mister?” The boy asked looking Graham right in the eyes. Graham looked down at the wound and back up at his face. There was no way he could move him without moving the metal impaled in his chest and if he did that he would bleed out. The kid was a goner. “Y-you're going to be fine. But before I move you, I’m going to do something to help with the pain.” The boy’s face brightened and Graham’s heart sunk. “A-al-alright. I’m not sure I can do much right now. It just.. hurts so bad.” “Yeah, I know just when I say go I need you to pushed against me as hard as you can. You can do that right.” “I think so.” Graham nodded then and grasped the peace of metal in his hands. He looked the boy in the eyes. “Alright ready and........... go!”
The boy pushed forward with all his quickly vanishing might and as he did Graham pushed hard on the piece driving it the last few inches it needed into the boy’s chest. The boy gasped and his grab on Graham’s arm tightened like a great python but a moment later it loosened and the gasping sounds vanished leaving only the sound of Graham’s heavy breathing and the rumble as artillery continued to explode about them. Graham sighed and reached for the small crystal about the boy’s neck pulling it free with minimal effort. He didn’t look at the smiling face in the picture but rather just stuffed it into his pocket with the other one hard. Without another word he made his way out of the cockpit and back up through the dead carcass of the transport towards the others.
He pushed away the hand that was offered to him as he clambered his way out of the wreck and back into the open sky above. Despite what he had just had to do his voice carried the small bright and playful cadence to it. He was good at doing that.
“Let’s move kids. We don’t want to be late to the party!"
M T. K I N A B A L U // Roxelana ‘Roxie’ Cacciatore // Coverup
Roxelana, and Thael. Head to the Townhall and see if you can find anyone with information there, and if you can, try to get in contact with any town officials
Roxie given a slight nod towards Subria about as good as a gesture of consent that one could expected to receive from the girl as the group became to split up to go searching for information. She turned towards Thael and give the tall blonde something akin to a light shrug before she moved further into the town without another word. Sidio was quaint if anything else a small mountain village that had the general impression about it that not a lot happened around there, an impression that was shattered by the almost constant charge in the air as spirits from over seemed to be slowly drifting towards the mountain that hung high above them.
A brisk walk managed to lead her to the steps of the town hall. Outside atop of a ladder a groundskeeper a handsome tanned skin man of a muscular frame was trimming a tree. She needed to lose Thael and quickly as she unfairly believed that her fellow guardian would only become a nuisance in their current situation. Upon looking at the ground’s keeper she came up with an idea, well she came up with a plausible excuse if any to get the towering frame of muscle off of her back.
“Blondie I’m going to go inside and see if anybody is in. Try talking to the groundskeeper over there. The help always overhears things that shouldn't be heard.” She called backwards not even sure if Thael had followed behind before she moved up the stairs off the town hall building and pushed the heavy doors open disappearing inside.
The inside was almost exactly as she expected it to be faux-wood floors and clean white walls adorned with some simple paintings. A women at a desk looked up at Roxie but quickly thought against speaking when she noticed the blade strapped to her hip. The women instead choose to simply nod towards the Guardian letting her enter the building. Roxelana approached a small directory nothing more than a small glass case with some labels within and read. Each one had a simple title and what floor number said person was located on all written in impeccably neat and delicate hand writing, so soft as that the ink had not bled through the thin white strip of paper. The piece of paper she was looking for was at the bottom on a slightly large piece of paper the words were simple but all she needed. Mayor’s office. Third Floor.
She found a stairwell rather quickly and ascended the small rectangular passageway upwards going up stairs stained by heavy footfalls over the years and splashes of coffee having fallen from stray cups. She came out of the stairwell and into a small receptionist area another woman much younger was at a desk short red hair kept in a tight ponytail soft green eyes were framed behind a small pair of glasses. Behind the desk was a large set of wooden doors that reached up to the ceiling. Roxelana stepped forward her feet clacking against the floor drawing the women’s attention as she looked up.
“I’m looking for the Mayor?” “He is in his office. But he is terribly busy and has no time for visitors today.” The women asked standing up as Roxie passed her without even giving her a glance. “He’ll make some time then.” The Guardian explained and pushed the heavy wooden door open without a second thought stepping inside the mayor’s office and letting it slam shut behind her.
The office was a fairly nice affair the walls taking up by large windows giving a superb view of the surrounding area while letting in plenty of light. The mayor himself sat behind a desk deep mahogany in color in a large high back chair. He was mid-conversation talking to somebody on his earpiece but upon seeing Roxie his eyes widened and he whispered something before he stood up smoothing the creases of his suit. He was a reasonable young man in good enough shape in his late thirties maybe with well trimmed brown hair and a pencil thin mustache, his suit was black and upon his breast pocket was a pin with the logo of Nexus Industries upon it. He smiled as Roxie approached even as his eyes threw daggers at her.
“How dare you interrupt me in the middle of my mayoral duties. For a matter of fact who in the name of the Spirits are you?” “Roxelana Cacciatore. Guardian. Now Mr. Mayor you are going to answer a few questions for me or would you rather be charged with hampering a military investigation?” Roxie spoke her voice joyful and even pleasant even as her cold analytical eyes met his. “Ah yes, yes. I was informed that some of you from Oakridge were coming. I wasn’t aware it was going to be so soon though. I guess I have some time for some quick questions.” The Mayor explained backpedaling as soon as Roxelana mentioned who she was exactly. “Excellent. We’ve received reports that there may be a Eidolon somewhere in the vicinity of the Mountain have you heard anything like this. Mr...?” “Crimbell. Xavier Crimbell. And no Mrs. Cacciatore I have not received any reports of any Eidolon in the area. The villagers speak of the spirit of the mountain but it is merely superstition, a scapegoat they use for their own acts such as those at the mine.” Crimbell tried to cut himself off before he mentioned the mine but he had no such luck, he face a picture of dismay “The Mine. What happened there?” “Ah well, the Mine was a project started by Nexus Industries designed to draw raw materials out of the mountain proper. It was supposed to bring Sidio out from the small slum it currently is and into a thriving city, a center of industry!” The mayor announced proudly as if he was some sort of cars salesmen. “You don’t think highly of your own town Mr. Crimbell?” “No I do child but I have dreams that it can be much more than the sleepy little village it is now. We could all be rich and live like kings. I’m just trying to do what is best for the people.” “Oh I understand perfectly Mr. Crimbell. You are a man of industry and innovation something to strive for in society. Now what happened to that mine of yours?" “Yes.. yes it was terrible. The people of the town were outraged by the idea, saying that it disturbed the balance of things and that it would make the spirit of the Mountain angry. So one of them set off an incendiary device within the tunnels burning some of their fellows and making the whole place unstable. We of course had to close the place down after that you see.” “And do have any reports from that act?” “Nexus’ own security force is dealing with it Guardian. I’m sure you understand.” “Oh I’m sure I do. Though speaking of Nexus I see you are wearing their pin are you affilated with them?” “They fancied my campaign as we have mutually beneficial ideas. But what politician isn't backed by their coffers these days?” “Well thanks for the information Mr. Crimbell. If anything comes up I’ll be sure to stop by again.” “My door is always open dear for the proud members of our military.”
Crimbell explained as he escorted Roxelana to the door before slamming it behind her. Roxelana sighed as she exited the reception area and headed down the stairwell back towards the ground floor. The Mayor was definitely lying to her about the mine and about whatever Nexus was really doing down there. She figured her next best move would to be go investigate the mine itself and see what had actually happened. First though as tiring as it was she needed to regroup with her squad. Shaking her head the guardian walked out the door and back into the fresh mountain air.
As the Hammer of the Army pushes deeper into the Dark Zone Graham finds himself inside the wreckage of the transport luckily only a little worse for wear due to Lesalo. Having a heart before he could leave the transport he went towards the cockpit to grab the dog tags off of the pilot and copilot so that their sacrifice could be remembered. While the pilot perished in the crash, the Copilot survived if barely impaled on a piece of metal. After a quick medical examination it became apparent that the kid would not make it and here away from the eyes of his companions, Graham did the thing he thought was right and killed the boy out of mercy to end his suffering. Seemingly unaffected or used to events such as this he spoke none of his actions to his companions but rather spoke in usual joking manner despite their dire straits.
And in the hunt for the Eidolon, Roxelana Cacciatore did her best to immediately separate herself from Thael once Subira told them to go together. Upon reaching the town hall she suggested that he speak to the rather handsome guard's keeper mending the trees to get the inside scoop while she talked to the mayor. @Ozerath The mayor one Xavier Crimbell was of really know help blatantly lying and not giving Roxelana any real information. Though it did provide a clues further linking the Eiodolon spotting with the mysterious Nexus Industries Mine and suggesting the Mayor may be in on some sort of cover up operation. Roxie having seemingly gathered all she did headed back outside to meet back up with the others.
O A K R I D G E A C A D E M Y // Graham Tosches // Deployment Garage.
Was that contempt in her eyes? No it was closer to abject disappointment than anything else. It reminded him of a mathematics teacher from a long time ago Mrs. Mulner: somewhere in her late sixties, thick curls of gray falling to about the waist, face covered in wrinkles earned not bestowed with long pray mantis like fingers that brushed over one another with a disturbing level of smoothness whenever she talked. The look in her eyes when ever she caught Graham sleeping in the back of class or flirting with some girl was the same one the living glacier was giving him, it sent shivers down his spine and sent every hair on his arm up on attention. He always had a problem with authority figures, Monika wasn't an authority figure in the simplest of terms but she certainty carried herself like one. Graham wasn't sure what bothered him more the fact that she just seemed to naturally carry herself in such a manner or the fact that his brain had automatically assumed the reality she presented to be the true one. But at least she responded he wasn't even expecting that.
He met the glower with a crooked grin eyes having their characteristic mischievous glint to them. He scratched the back of his head in a relaxed manner as it felt like she was taking him apart piece by piece with her eyes almost laughing as her eyes fell upon the shoelaces. Not one to feel left it he also took in his observations if not as blunt as she was doing. A contrasting set of pale ivories and raven blacks, a face that could have even been considered pretty if not for the emotional candor upon display at the moment. She was as well forged as a warrior that Oakridge could of produced, she certainly looked strong enough to toss him about not to mention the speed required to make her blade almost begin to be useful in a real fight. (He reckoned he was still faster of course girl might of practiced how to swing a big stick around without tiring herself out but that didn't replace years of having to run to survive that was a speed of a whole different sort of echelon.) Not to mention the whole vibe she was 'giving off' with the spirits that congregated about her, his own bright and fiery continual sparking bouncing off against hers cold and distance. They fit her like a glove, perfect for the girl that refused to turn her back to him like they were in some sort of duel.
"You sure you don't want to head over to Doral? I'd call that thing one hell of a 'diplomatic incentive'." He quipped with his usual level of jest towards her comment about being more useful on the front lines. He pondered upon her comment for a moment trying to dissect it more thoroughly. The pride and the hubris was there alright but he didn't care about surface layer, nobody told you anything on the surface. He wondered if it bothered her at all, not being able to be the best at everything, to be the best tool for every problem it must have for a standard case perfectionist like her. Before he could impose further upon a line of question she skilfully switched the focus of the conversation off of herself and onto him as eyes of ice met eyes of sky for the briefest of moments as she gazed over him once more. Graham practically smiled when he heard the doubt not so hidden in her voice. He couldn't blame her really, he didn't look the part of a front line brawler like she did he was all slender not burly and intimidating. Everyone made the same mistakes, it was all part of the technique.
"You do a marvelous job not hiding the doubt in your voice, you know that?" Graham responded with something akin to a chuckle and as he pulled Sera off of his back with his left hand. He took the weapon currently in boomerang form placing two fingers between the blade and tossed it up into the air with a flick the wrist. The weapon made lazy circles through the air as sharp metal tumbled over sharp metal as it came down he caught it between two fingers and continued tossing it up and down switching hands without really paying attention despite the fact that a movement of his hands in the wrong direction by less than a second could have them easily chopped off as he continued to speak. "Listen, I know my word ain't much but trust me Princess they don't just keep me around for my pretty face." He explained catching Sera out of the air and with little in terms of flourish redeposited it behind his back.
Back to business almost as quickly Monika talked of those who would also be departing with them. It seemed the only other one that was known for certain was Olivia Celestine. That was a name Graham knew well to be fair it was a name that almost everybody knew well enough, Ms. Celestine was another perfect little flower always toeing the line and making everybody love her from the teachers to her gym rats buddies. It seemed like Graham was with a whole bunch of sticks in a whole bunch of mud. He fought against rising an eyebrow when she mentioned coming up with theories. He wanted to say that based on principal he didn't come up with plans, theories or anything that could be halfway synonymous with forethought because in the end they all go to shit. He didn't say this of course only nodding his head in what could be seen as agreement if the only betraying motion being how stiff the actual nodding motion was.
By this point in time he had become acutely aware of somebody else watching them. He looked past Monika's shoulder to see another Guardian leaning against the MOV destined to take them to the front. Black hair and a little bit on the shorter side he had a sort of displaced expression upon his face. Graham clapped his hands together to disperse the silence. "Well as much as I loved this little chat, it would seem the stragglers are finally arriving." He explained gesturing towards the other Guardian leaning against the MOV before cupping his hands and calling out to him carrying the playful cadence of his voice over the chaos in the Garage. "Oi! Too cool to stand up straight! Come on over! We don't bite.... well not unless you ask nicely!"
M T. K I N A B A L U // Roxelana ‘Roxie’ Cacciatore // In Transit
She knew this memory
She was nine again back in Valeheist, back home. She had finished the assignment that her father had given her early again, another book Queal's Spiritum Nexurium another age old scientific text. She was bored of course but didn't know what to do. The servants and the guards were always too busy to do anything fun and her mother much like her other siblings were all rather boring to behold. She couldn't leave the congealed mass of towering spires that made up the heart of Valeheist. She had tried that once by crawling into the rubbish shoot, when they finally found her wandering the square she was quickly thrown back into her room having no contact for nearly three days. So without any other options to follow up on she decided to try and find her father. Putting the large tome gently upon the floor and leaving her own notes tucked underneath it as to not to lose them she made her move. Small feet ghosted across cold stone floors as she moved towards the large door of her room seemingly towering up into the heavens (even though now she knew it barely rose six feet) and nudged it open just far enough so that she could slip out without the telltale creaking noise giving away her grand escape.
Out of her room she came into the central space of the main tower upon a simple landing. To one side stairs stretched continually downward and to the other they rose upward chasing after the sky. Roxelana went upwards knowing that she would find her father at the top in his office. The ascent was grueling as two steps became four and four became eight and eight became ten and so forth stretching to ever greater numbers. Her lungs gasped as her legs burned but ever still she climbed and climbed forever upwards. After what seemed to take millenniums she reached the top of the stairs. In front of her where two large heavy set doors both accented by heavy gold knockers in the shape of large snarling dragons. These silent sentinels had always struck fear into the girl's heart from a young age, their angry eyes peering down from above like god's on high. She kept her head low as to avoid making eye contact with the inanimate objects as she nudged the door open and stepped inside the office.
For a man that was considered by some to a sort of quasi-god, the office itself was fairly plain. At the center was her Father's large desk made of rich dark wood imported in from Ascadia and carved by hand by a master carpenter. It was the only true luxury item in the whole room and spoke volumes about the man himself. The rest of the space was filled with large bookshelves filled from top to bottom with texts of all sorts and various scientific equipment strewn about on tables and shelves some looking as if an experiment had only stopped moments ago. It was not the office one expected from a leader of prestigious city-state it was crowded and dirty and dust floated about the air in a haphazard manner certainly not prestigious or stately in any shape or form. None of this of course bothered the young Roxelana what bothered her was the fact that her Father was nowhere to be seen.
Then she felt it, the cold breeze brushing playfully against her cheek. She turned in the direction that it had originated and she saw beyond the bookshelves and the tables near the back of the room, the door to the balcony was open letting in the breeze and fragments of midday illumination. Slowly the young girl made her way over to the door bare feet moving gently across the floor at the tip of her toes careful to avoid any precious object or books that had dropped to the floor long ago to be forgotten about. Ever so slowly she found herself in front of the door peering into the outside eyes squinting against the light. She could see him though looking out on the city below hands clasped on the banister as he peered out. He looked bigger than the entire world, tall and broad shoulder built of towering muscle. Long hair white as snow falling at just about the point where the neck meets the collarbone. She froze where she was unsure if she should dare step forward.
"Come child." For a second Roxelana froze but on unsteady feet she moved quickly up to stand next to her Father. "I already finished my work. So I tho-" The girl began but was cut off by a simple raise of a hand. "I know. We will deal with your punishment for leaving before your instruction time was done later." He turned to face her. "But tell me child. What do you see out there?" "I see the city" "Yes your home and mine as well. And one day you must watch over it all." "But what if I'm not ready?"
Suddenly the world began to fade away as her father's own melted away into nothingness as dreamworld give way back into reality. She was back in the air transport headed towards Kinabalu. She was no longer a little girl but a Guardian ready to go hunter after a Eidolon of all things. She peered out the view port to the left of her as the vehicle came in for a landing about the clearing the towering mountain becoming larger and larger as they approached the ground. Seconds later touchdown occurred and the back hatch opened and the soldiers began pouring out going about their jobs in order to secure a perimeter and set up a base camp. Roxelana waited with idle boredom for them to filter out before she stood up and followed her fellow Guardians off of the vehicle and into the shadow of the great Mountain above towering over them like some kind of vengeful god ready to rain death upon them.
Subra the one leading the small team forward turned around putting up a question about the plan of attack. Roxelana cracked her neck with a subtle jerk before she spoke. "Whatever we do, we should do it fast. The longer we stand here slack-jawed the higher the chance that Eidolon moves."
Graham continues his verbal joust with Monika as he much like her tries to size her up. As the conversation nears it end he spots Nicholas and calls him over in typical Graham fashion. Meanwhile Roxelana is dragged out of her memories by the transport for the Kinbalu mission. Upon exiting she stresses urgency and speed wanting to catch the Eidolon before it decides to move and possibly ruin everything.
Looks good to me as well. No character picture? The last sentence of the first spirit doesn't have a punctuation mark. Other than that, all good!
Alright! Oh and the character picture isn't working on your end... Most curious indeed. I'll see if that is something I can fix.
@Vox I'm going to be terribly unhelpful here and say I don't care much either way. I'm flexible to whatever the group prefers.
@Redrum Eh no harm done, considering I haven't even made my first post introducing her yet I'd say it's more my fault than yours.
Speaking of that post, I'm in the midst of working on it at the moment; taking my moment of respite for the daily chaos to get it done. So expect it sooner rather than later!
@vietmyke Nah I'm good. I'll pull something out of my ass. lol
And Sorry about vanishing while you guys have all been playing the Division my friend had a press key for Dark Souls 3 that he wasn't going to use, so that has kind of been may life for awhile when I have free time. xD I should have a post up soonish.
The post for Scott is about 80% complete at the moment and should be done by tonight. The next post in Richard Rider's ongoing war against Thanos has moved out of the conception phase and into the writing phase as well. I'm free today so expect Scott's post at the least.
@Rockette@Prisk And I believe I have finally gotten around to finishing my secondary character if you'd like to take a gander.
Roxelana ‘Roxie’ Cacciatore ◆ 23 ◆ October 11th ◆5’11”◆ Guardian
◆ A P P E A R A N C E
Roxelana is the prime and proper expectation of somebody that grew up in the upper echelons of high society where money and power come in great amounts. Elegant is the word that is mostly easily used to describe the girl as her body seems to flow together cohesively with each lithe muscle moving in concentrated tandem with one another. Her pale skin below is a subtle patchwork of light scars that run up and down her body produced in her training with her father long ago as the rapiers clashed until blood was drawn. The muscles were earned not bestowed upon her and the time she spends focused on personal fitness primarily in relation to the heavy training regime she runs through every day primarily focused on deadly efficiency. This mixture of fine tuned femininity and deadly efficiency speaks volumes of the duality of the girl.
Her attire is generally of darker shades mostly blacks consisting of standard attires of zip-up sweatshirts, loose fitting tee shirts beneath, tightly fitting pants and some impressive looking combat boots.
◆ I D E O L O G Y
In a perfect world those fighting for the safety of the world are heroes. They fight for courageous causes and for the betterment of humanity. They value human life and they follow strict moral codes that keep them down the straight and narrow. In a perfect world knights in shining armor are not just relegated to fairy tales. Libra is far from a perfect world and it’s knights are far from galant paladins of virtue. Roxie is something akin to a blunt instrument than a hero that once set upon a task will complete it no matter the cost. Moral codes hold no sway and are as easy to pick up and drop as cards. This strong conviction results in a savage ruthlessness of a whirling dervish with no qualms of taking lives and burning down the bridges that lay behind her. Each task completed with a deadly combination of precision focus and seemingly suicidal fearlessness.
This brutal exterior is juxtaposed against a sense of charm and sophistication that is carried with each step of her feet. A sweet and considerate voice thrown off by the dead eyes of a well tuned killing machine. For in the end society, friends, and even close allies serve the same purpose as a well used tool; they are means to an end upon which goals are met. The honey like sweetness can quickly turn bitter into something much more akin to coarse and callous contempt. A cynic who is able to wear the mask of an optimist in order to fulfil an agenda.
This outright rejection of the standard fare of heroic virtue is matched only by a deeply set pathological rejection of authority based on unresolved childhood issues. These outside visage of cold and brutal efficiency is brought down inwardly by repressed personal issues of insecurity, abandonment among others. Friends and family are concepts that are now strangely foreign as even those she draws in close are held at an icy distance in the end. In her own mind she slipped too far already and can only proceed to go deeper all the while plagued by the fading fragment of her morality as the face in the mirror looking back at her seems strange and alien.
◆ B A C K G R O U N D
Roxelana Cacciatore was born into the lonely and snow covered world of Valeheist. Valehesit stands alone nestled deep into the foreboding and treacherous Rajim Mountain range nestled within northern Suji. Valeheist a land plentiful in resources prospered greatly due to its trade contracts with the mighty and powerful. This lonely city-state surrounded by soaring crags and peaks held a deep secret that lay beneath a facade of prosperity and upper class sophistication. Bound in blood and tradition the people of Valeheist did what many would consider unthinkable or lead to damnation, built upon the long dead corpse of a great Eidolon the people of Valeheist studied the creature, study which lead to insane dreams of power and conquest leading them to not live in coexistent with the spirits that surround them but rather harness their power into a sort of forced enslavement similar to the use of Aggressors to fuel their industry and progress.
The leader of this vile and dark place was the Regent of Valeheist, a man seemingly turned immortal by his harnessing the spirit's power. Those in Valeheist knew him as the Undying lord, a messiah like figure that brought them great prosperity and prestige even as the world around them burned Roxelana knew the Undying Lord as father. She was born to his wife rather than one of the many whores that he had occasional dalliances with time and again and so was treated with all the respect and privilege that came with such a position. She grew up in the great castle like fortress that served as the center of the city, a series of towering spires dark as the void that stretched high into the sky and dominated the skyline of Valeheist.
It soon became apparent that Roxelana much like her father had a queer aptitude towards attracting spirits and harnessing their powers, the only of the regents children to have such. Due to this the girl was treated as special rather than having a tutor like her other siblings, Roxelana was taught personally by her father to groom her into becoming a suitable heir to take over Valeheist from him when the time was right. He taught her everything from culture and etiquette to more important things like combat and treachery through this he ingrained his bitter and jaded worldview into his young daughter teaching her to only care about success and getting the job done.
It was around this time that a great darkness began to fall over Valeheist something which threatened to consume all those within. A corruption very much similar to the Stigma caused by the Mordhem but this was artificially caused by the people of Valeheist on rampant greed towards their seemingly endless ascent towards godhood. Man became nothing more than mindless husks and soon masses of these terrible human abominations slammed against the doors of the Valeheist Castle. It was here that Roxelana’s father made a deal with those in a far away place in exchange for secrets and power his daughter was given safe passage and a place at Oakridge. She was ushered through the teleporter just as the beasts outside had broken through the door. After that all communication from the lonely city grew silent becoming nothing more than a cold dead corpse laying in the snow. The fate of Roxelana’s father remaining unknown to this day.
Roxelana was eleven years old when she arrived at Oakridge. Because of the girls mysterious origins she naturally drew others to her. Only for them to drift away as they found her as cold as the mountain home that she once knew. From that point onward she vowed to continue the dreams of her father, to return to Valeheist and raise it back to the pinnacle of civilization it once was. But first she needed to become stronger, much much stronger.
◆ W A R F A R E
Roxie’s weapon style revolves around brutally elegant simplicity and she carries a trick weapon to match that style. In its standard appearance it as an elegant rapier with a underslung shotgun barrel jutting from its hilt used in combination Roxie slams the blade into her opponents before blasting them at close range. Though for situations that require more finesse or long range solutions the barrel extends and it becomes a sturdy rifle with the rapier blade now serving as a bayonet of sorts.
◇Mrak [ Dark ] [ -Imperil ] [ -Pain] The spirits seem to burst forth from the veins in the girl's arm with a tremendous fury. Tendril in appearance black as pitch they circle about the girl's arm and upon a swift gesture they lash out from the arm lashing about an opponent and encircling them opening them up to attacks most viscous indeed. These spirits value savagery and fear. ◇Toride [ Holy ] [ +Protect ] [ +Shell] The spirits appear as a burst of fierce light coming down from the heavens upon slamming into Roxie or an ally bestowing a translucent sheen of glowing particles about protecting them that harden into a sparkling crystalline shield upon impact protecting them from incoming damage feeding upon convictions most strong indeed nearly bordering on zealousness and dogma. ◇Sundara [ Dark ] [ -Meltdown ] [ -Curse ] [ -Terror ] [ -Nightmare ][ +Vampire] These spirits are most vile indeed responding to the most simplistic and primordial of emotions fear. They take the very fears and self doubts which drive young Roxie forward and channel them into a great destructive force. Veins go black as the void of oblivion and the eyes themselves cloud over with darkness and from an outstretch palm as torrent of dark energy is released at an opponent blasting them with necrotic energy. But upon use the darkness lingers upon Roxie opening her up to attacks of a more righteous sort.
O A K R I D G E A C A D E M Y -[]- Graham Tosches -[]- The Crow’s Nest
“Guess this is it” Graham muttered to himself as he leaned back against a cooling unit. Some students long ago nicknamed the place the ‘Crow’s Nest’ a long time ago; a small section of the Oakridge’s roof sheltered away from prying eyes hidden away among the venting system that kept the simulation rooms from overheating all the time. It was one of the academy’s worst well kept secrets fairly self evident from the amount of graffiti and cigarette butts that littered the small section of roof. It was far too early for the regular crowd to actually be up and about so at the moment Graham had the place to himself; he sat feet dangling off the edge watching the shapes of human figures move below going about their business. He had been up there for several hours now at this point, sleep hadn’t come to him last night and he needed somewhere where he could think by himself.
As he stared out beyond the horizon his left hand idly fished around in his pocket before he produced a cigarette from deep within the confines of his jacket. Officially all narcotics were banned at the Academy, old man Dysely having strong opinions about his students filling their lungs with ‘putrid shit’. Banned of course didn’t mean much of anything really, all it did mean was that you needed to be more creative on how you acquired and used such things. Hell that was why kids had discovered and passed down places like the Nest anyway. It was a long seated oral tradition that Graham could at least get behind. A flip of a lighter a few seconds later and the bitter taste of smoke filtered into his body, it tasted like home.
As he blew out a small ring of smoke and watched it drift upwards into the sky being scattered by the breeze, he contemplated the same thing that was on everybody’s mind, Operation Downfall. They had all just graduated and before they even had a chance to relish the thought of it they were all about to be thrown into the wood chipper. But that was what they were trained for as Guardians, professional suicide squads ready to do the things that no sane man ever would. Of course that wasn’t what the higher ups had said to them of course, no they said that they would be performing a great service for all of Libra, that it would be the turning point in everything, that they would be heroes. You never talked about casualties and the hundreds of pointless deaths that would evidently occur in the coming days, that was bad for moral.
Graham would be lying though if he said he wasn’t terrified of it all. It was that fear though that he lived for, the pounding in his heart that reminded him that he was still alive. That was way he had signed up to go to the frontlines right into the Darkzone. The stories that came back from the front where gruesome, terrifying and every bit intriguing. He wanted to take the fight to the enemy, to actually do something worth his time. When the army had taken him off the streets all those years ago they promised him a chance for a purpose, it was as good as time as ever. That and well unlike some of his fellows he had no family to worry about, no people he was leaving behind he could go get eating by some monster and nobody would care.
He took another drag from the cigarette as he reached behind his back and produced a large curved metallic object that shined in the morning sun. Upon the object in his own scratchy handwriting carved into the side read a simple word ‘Sera’. It was an antique really, a prototype built during the start of the War but passed over for more favourable weapons like the many gunblades that you see the guardians use today. Graham liked the device though it felt good in his hands and the brutal simplicity and elegance of it spoke to his own finer tastes. He ran a hand over the metal surface the sensation familiar and done with a deep level of familiarity as he hit the hidden latch that held the two halves of the blade together. A soft click sounded out into the air as the two halves of the boomerang split apart becoming two daggers that he grasped within his hands. He experimentally swung them outwards over the edge of the roof feeling the weight behind each swing. Seemingly satisfied he reconnected the two halves and restated the blade behind his back.
"You’re quiet today." A voice sounded out into the void. Graham recognized it almost immediately and cocked his head to his immediate right. Seemingly out of nowhere a girl was now sitting next to him. She looked a few years younger and was dressed in a white dress and without shoes upon her feet. Her blonde hair fell down her back and her eyes of green sparkled mischievously. She looked just as she had the day she had died, she always did. “And you’re not real so we both have some issues don’t we?” Graham shot back at the figure his voice bitter as he turned away from her. “Is that anyway to treat your sister?” “My sister died seven years ago because I couldn't save her.” “Even so I have something to tell you, Graham.” “.... Well speak.” “You can feel it can’t you Graham? The winds are changing, something big is bound to happen soon. Are you ready to deal with something like that? This mission isn’t going to be like all the other times, you can’t run away this time. If you do it’ll be just like mom, just like all over again.” “I’m not going to run away.” He explained pounding his fist into the roof to emphasis his point. He felt his knuckles yell out in pain, but it didn't the pain felt good. “That’s what you always say.”
And just like that she was gone again between the blink of an eye. She was right of course whatever was bound to happen was going to big there was no doubt about it. Operation Downfall would decide the fate of the world but this time it was different. Or at least that was what he would keep on telling himself. With a modicum of effort he pushed himself upward and back onto his feet. He looked skywards and he figured that it was about time for him to get going. He dropped the cigarette to the floor and grinded it against the roof with his heel. He took once last look around his old haunt dreadfully aware that it was probably the last time he would see it for awhile yet if at all beyond this point. Giving a wave to the ghosts of the past he made he was way over to one edge of the roof slipping down onto a large ventilation pipe that hung to the side of the building and began to shimmy his way down towards the ground floor.
Once upon solid ground he quickly cut his own path across the grounds going as the crow flies at a light jog towards the embarkation area. He passed some other students and recent graduates that he knew and returned their waves or nods as he made his way onward. He was popular enough at the academy his devil may care attitude being something of an attraction point towards some, finding him labeled as one of the ‘cool kids’. Yet he couldn't particularly say that he knew many of the people that waved at him, maybe first names or faces but he wasn’t really the type to make friends. Not that it mattered now of course, he wondered how many of those faces would be dead by tomorrow.
As he made his way over he ran over the mental checklist in his head he was already wearing his combat armor simple and close fitting combat armor black in color was kept on his body and he had run maintenance on Sera already. That was all he really needed as the rest of the gear that was provided would be mostly sent en masse or if worse came to worse could be picked up at the front for a quartermaster. Not that they would need much of anything else while one wanted to be prepared when they entered the Darkzone if you went in over encumbered and bringing unnecessary equipment with you it would be as much as a death sentence as forgetting something important. It was all about balance, something that Oakridge had taught its students well enough.
Graham soon arrived amongst the transports getting ready to either leave for the Front or towards the Nexus Reactor. Maintenance crews ran about making sure each transport was properly fueled and was carrying that right equipment, and Guardians and regular soldiers alike were moving about trying to find their own designated transports and locations. Some calling out to one another and others just trying to make it through the crowd. As Graham made his way through the crowd bobbing in and out of the human traffic and vaulting over the occasional cart or other object in his path. Eventually he found his way towards his own designated area for those Guardians heading towards the front lines.
To no real surprise as he approached he noticed another familiar face coming in one Monika Abendroth-Faye the girl with one too many hyphens in her name. Graham at least knew her though, he figured that she probably didn’t like him that much or at all. She was all about rigidity, perfection and toeing the line. Graham was well the opposite, he was laid back, he broke the rules all the damn time and didn’t seem to have a real care in the whole world. Nevertheless it never hurt to be civil. So Graham closed the distance giving her a small wave as he jogged over.
“Well of course you and your two handed sword of imminent demise would have chosen Hammer. I feel safer already.” He explained with a mock bow.
It's morning again and everybody is getting ready to march off to their demise. Graham is up on a roof in an attempt to ponder about Operation Downfall in Silence. He is interrupted by the regular occurrence of his guilty psyche manifesting itself in the form of a convincing hallucination of his dead sister Anna. The two of them talk a little putting some self-doubt into Graham's mind. Graham realizing that it is getting late, climbs down from the roof and makes a beeline for the embarkation location for Hammer, as he does he continues to think about events ahead going over the mental checklist in his head. Once there he sees another Guardian he knows at least sort of in the form of Monika in an attempt to be civil he goes up to attempt to strike a conversation with her in his usual sort of way.
[center][img]https://media3.giphy.com/media/v1.Y2lkPTc5MGI3NjExamE0ZDl0dTlzcm9peXR2OTN0ZjE4cmdoZGc0NjAyd3pjbzZqZmt1eiZlcD12MV9pbnRlcm5hbF9naWZfYnlfaWQmY3Q9Zw/PlEqIvCQj2TLy/giphy.gif[/img][/center]
[u][i][b]Hexaflexagon (Concept)[/b][/i][/u]
[quote][sub][url=https://maa.org/sites/default/files/pdf/pubs/focus/Gardner_Hexaflexagons12_1956.pdf]In geometry, flexagons are flat models, usually constructed by folding strips of paper, that can be flexed or folded in certain ways to reveal faces besides the two that were originally on the back and front.[/url][/sub][/quote]
[u][i][b]Hexaflexagon (Person?)[/b][/i][/u]
[quote][sub]Academic who somehow got conned into working for the Government. Been role-playing both on forums and TTRPGs for close to twenty years at this point. I'm like 99% retired from active RPing on the Guild, but I still like to poke my head onto here once in a while to make sure that I didn't leave the lights on.[/sub][/quote]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://media3.giphy.com/media/v1.Y2lkPTc5MGI3NjExamE0ZDl0dTlzcm9peXR2OTN0ZjE4cmdoZGc0NjAyd3pjbzZqZmt1eiZlcD12MV9pbnRlcm5hbF9naWZfYnlfaWQmY3Q9Zw/PlEqIvCQj2TLy/giphy.gif" /></div><br><br><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Hexaflexagon (Concept)</span></span></span><br><blockquote class="bb-quote"><sub><a target="_blank" rel="nofollow noopener" href="https://maa.org/sites/default/files/pdf/pubs/focus/Gardner_Hexaflexagons12_1956.pdf">In geometry, flexagons are flat models, usually constructed by folding strips of paper, that can be flexed or folded in certain ways to reveal faces besides the two that were originally on the back and front.</a></sub></blockquote><br><br><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-i"><span class="bb-b">Hexaflexagon (Person?)</span></span></span><br><blockquote class="bb-quote"><sub>Academic who somehow got conned into working for the Government. Been role-playing both on forums and TTRPGs for close to twenty years at this point. I'm like 99% retired from active RPing on the Guild, but I still like to poke my head onto here once in a while to make sure that I didn't leave the lights on.</sub></blockquote></div>
mickilennial,
Alisdragon911,
Rockette,
Lemons,
DocTachyon,
Captain Uni,
vietmyke
