Lennon79

Final Fantasy VIII: Tempus Veneficarum [7/10 Slots]

This OOC has been very tame of late. Might need to post some provocative images to spice things up.
Anyone heard from Hero recently?

Final Fantasy VIII: Tempus Veneficarum [7/10 Slots]

Nodding sagely, Duncan tried not to chuckle at Syrus' description of his least fortunate student; true, Kein had something of an affinity for unconsciousness, but the SeeD test was ranked on more than just combat ability. 'Can't say I was there for most of it, so just between you and me... I bullshitted my way through a lot of it. Wasn't about to let my kids fail just 'cause I got captured, now was I?' He would have continued, but the appearance of a pair of small hands over Syrus' eyes drew his attention and eyebrows upward. Duncan raised his bottle in a joking salute as he was introduced, grinning over his glasses. Well well well, Syrus old boy... She seemed pretty nice too, in a bouncy squirrel kind of way; not his cup of tea, but different strokes. He was under no illusions that the two were just... friends. 'Of course not, my dear. On the contrary, I shall take my leave.' Bowing with exaggerated care, Duncan gave the girl a sly wink as he turned away, well aware that he was going over the top. As he wandered off, he shot the odd surreptitious glance back toward them, searching for that telltale blush on Syrus' cheeks.

These dances didn't usually hold much interest for Duncan and with the exception of his students, he felt the same about tonight. Sometimes he wished that he was a social butterfly, flitting between gaggles of students and guests to swap war stories and flirt with beautiful women. Fat chance, he thought derisively. He couldn't even enjoy a drink with his former instructor colleagues, given that most would be too busy kissing Corvo's arse, trying to fill the vacancy left by Duncan's dismissal. Fortunately, another opportunity presented itself. 'Oi Ginge, where's Xerox?' Increasingly tipsy as he emptied the bottle, Duncan had thrust his head into a group of female students, correctly guessing that they had mobbed little Rue. The Moomba's mimed response was confusing to say at the least, but after a bit of arguing, Rue pointed out toward the same balcony that Duncan had relaxed on earlier. Waving his thanks, the SeeD meandered over, swapping out his empty bottle of wine for a fresh one of port on the way. By the time he stepped out into the crisp evening air, he had rolled another cigarette and was a bit more composed, if still drunk. 'Sup Xerox. Figures that you'd be out here, alone.' He sat down opposite the new SeeD, a paternal smile creeping across his face. 'I wish I could get into something like you get into mechanics. You never look as... focussed as when you have a spanner in your hands... Want a drink? You only graduate once, you know.'

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

It wasn't long before Harald's patience bore fruit. The man looked older than Harald, perhaps in his late 20s; fairly experienced too, if his attitude was anything to go by. 'Amusing ain't the word; I'd call it downright hilarious. Not that I can say much. My school training was run by the local town watch; never even fired a gun before I started work.' Taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette, Harald took a more careful look at the guy; his armband had corporal stripes, his hair was greying and his eyes betrayed more alertness than his appearance would suggest. Ex-town watch maybe, or a member of the permanent arm of the Militia? Casting one eye down at his paperwork, Harald's critical expression soon grew into a smile of genuine relief as the Corporal introduced himself. 'Well, ain't that some kinda coincidence. I'm part of your squad, number 4.' He reached over to take Krauss' hand in a firm shake, grinning heartily. 'Sergeant Harald, at your service. I reckon you've seen more action than I have, though I've had the odd raid in years past.' As they talked, he cast an eye around the square; the traffic had lessened considerably as the other sergeants did their jobs. By now there were perhaps thirty souls left unattended as the remaining sergeants had clearly taken his approach; now would be a good time to rally Squad 4 and see what they had to work with.

'Well Corporal, I reckon it's time to get some work done. We have... three privates and two PFCs to find.' Draining his remaining ale, Harald stubbed out the cigarette and slung his backpack over one shoulder, marching out into the centre of the square. He hadn't been issued a weapon or even a uniform yet, so he doubted he appeared particularly sergeant-y... but he could damn well sound like one if he tried. Harald took a deep, bracing breath, thrust his chest out and roared at the top of his lungs. 'Squad Four, assemble on me! Squad Four, over 'ere!' He paced back and forth as the other recruits scrambled out of the way and for a moment he had the attention of the entire square. The other sergeants soon joined in though and before long the stragglers were more or less assembled. Looking up and down the rather short line of Squad 4, Harald wondered if he had gotten the short end of the stick... Aside from being understrength, three of them were women for Valkyrur 's sake. Guess it doesn't matter... easy on the eyes at least. 'Well... good morning boys and girls, or perhaps good afternoon. I am Sergeant Harald and I shall be your NCO for this war. Um...' To be honest, he hadn't planned what to say once the squad had fallen in, and so was a bit lost. A few muffled cracks could be heard in the background, most likely some of the other squads in training. 'I... Yeah. Let's start with a few introductions. As I said, I'm Sergeant Harald; I was trained in reconnaissance, marksmanship and demolitions. No idea what gun they're going to issue me, but that's a problem for another day.' He turned to Krauss with an affirmative nod. 'This is Corporal Helfer, deputy squad leader.' Those guys are really going at it over there... As sense of unease crept in as the sound of gunfire intensified, but he doubted it was anything serious; he kept his calm smile for the time being.

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

So, uh... you guys still there..?

Final Fantasy VIII: Tempus Veneficarum [7/10 Slots]

Well, we're going to be at the ball for a while so maybe have him pop up there someplace? Alternatively if Zarkun is up for it, he could know Jericho; good drinking buddy, right there and I reckon they would get on better than with most of the other characters. Once the ball is over he will be transferred to Duncan's command, but that's later.

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

And post away.

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

0700 March 21st, 1935 EC
12 Miles East of Rinneheim, Gallia

Silence ruled the crisp air of an early spring morn, broken only by a chorus of lilting birdsong. Only the keenest of observers would note the movement of armoured figures amidst the bocage, the silhouette of tanks lying in wait. A regiment of the Emperor's finest was slowly tracking westward across the fields and hedgerows, drawing ever closer to the town of Rinneheim and its unsuspecting defenders...

---

1100 March 21st, 1935 EC
Central Square, Rinneheim, Gallia

One hundred men and women stood to attention across the town square, each sporting an armband emblazoned with the words 9/12 Militia. Some had already seen action, clad in the iconic blue uniform of Gallia, while many more were still wearing civilian clothes. One young man toward near the back of the formation was dressed in what appeared to be a police uniform, while another nearby wore a butcher's apron. At the front of the square had been erected a stage replete with Gallian heraldry, upon which a lone officer stood, his gaze drifting slowly across the assembled multitudes. After a long silence, the man stepped forward.

'Good morning. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the 9th Regiment of the Gallian Militia, 12th Company. I am your commanding officer, Captain Tarquin H Meulemann.' The Captain had a strong Imperial accent and carried himself with a air of nobility. If his monocle and handle-bar moustache were not enough to gauge his personality, he wore an elegant sabre at his waist, which showed every sign of having been used recently. 'I am not a man for speeches, so I shall endeavour to make this quick. As soldiers in Her Majesty's armed forces, you are now bound by a code of honour and loyalty, of comradeship and respect.' Meulemann's expression hardened. 'Whoever you were before you joined my company, I do not care. You will follow your orders and achieve your objectives for the glory of House Randgriz and the good of all Gallia. Parade! Dismissed!' The abrupt end of the Captain's speech took many by surprise and the company milled about in confusion before the more experienced soldiers herded the others out of the square. From his position atop the stage, Meulemann sighed deeply. Valkyrur help us all...

---

A few minutes later, outside a pub in the main square a young man was rifling through his conscription paperwork. Despite his dark hair, the landlord had begrudgingly served the militiaman an ale, though he was sure it hadn't been the quality stuff. He sighed deeply as he leafed through another page. Sergeant Harald, #55236972, 9/12/4 Squad Leader... Serial numbers, insurance numbers, dates, facts, figures... Deciding that the details could be dealt with later, he pulled out a specific sheet that outlined his subordinates. Naturally it was little more than a list of names, no pictures or descriptions to speak of but he was still expected to assemble them before the afternoon's march to Randgriz.

Nearby, another sergeant had decided to bite the bullet and was shouting for each of his squadmates at the top of his lungs. Occasionally a soldier would materialise from the aimless throng of recruits, glad to have some direction at last. Other sergeants had their own methods ranging from banners with a list of names to simply demanding the identity of every recruit they could find. Harald sighed again as he sparked up a cigarette, unsure of how to proceed; even with his superior rank he doubted that he could get away with demanding anything of anyone. He was a Darcsen after all; it had been enough of a shock to find himself above Private, let alone in charge of a whole squad. In the end he just sat back with his ale and played the card he had refined during his years as a constable; if you sit in a pub and wave enough people over, some fucker will eventually know who you are after.

Final Fantasy VIII: Tempus Veneficarum [7/10 Slots]

Accepted and added. Welcome aboard.

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

Adding him now. If you could update his rank, that'd be great. I'll get working on the first post too.

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

Accepted, I love it when snipers actually have personalities XD
I think he would be an excellent candidate for Corporal; just means that he'll need to be more of a mobile sniper than a stationary one.