Letter Bee
Member
Filipino RPer
STATUS: Two days ago, Noble Arms is indisputably four years old, spread out across three threads, and the third thread is still ongoing and about to reach the endgame... 8 days ago
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Status
Recent Statuses
8 days ago
Current
Two days ago, Noble Arms is indisputably four years old, spread out across three threads, and the third thread is still ongoing and about to reach the endgame...
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likes
19 days ago
Can't believe that I actually got an RP close to its endgame, btw...
4
likes
1 mo ago
Noble Arms is now either four years old, or three years and eleven months. The third thread had lasted for more than one year.
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2 mos ago
New Interest Check, everybody!
2 mos ago
My Roleplay, Noble Arms: The ASEAN War, will reach its 4th year in June or July. It's been a long journey.
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Most Recent Posts
@Hyyde322, I presume I cannot be a Mage?
Deuel Akakios
Deuel let Noah light the flames, before looking at Ciel and saying, "So, umm, are you okay? You seem flustered."
He then turned to look at Niles, trying to make sure the moonlight and shadows highlighted his muscles, before leaning forward and risking Ciel getting a good look at his neck, shoulders, and back before saying, "Thanks, Niles. I'm glad I'm not losing you."
And then the youth smiled before leaning back, smiling, then musing out loud, "You know, guys, I'm happy - Despite everything, we've stood with each other through thick and thin and it's going to be hard to imagine life without you guys. I'm happy to have met you all; known you all. But enough sappy stuff; considering the fact that today is our last day... I brought gifts in a spare bag."
Walking back to the tent for a bit, Deuel waved hi to Conner and Kieran before pulling out that spare bag he mentioned and opening it, giving the two their gifts early. To Conner, he handed over a custom-made set of swimming goggles; dark-blue except for the area around the glass, which was royal blue, plus a waterproof phone 'for emergencies'. Then to Kieran, he handed a paperback copy of The Emerald Tablet of Hermes and the Kybalion, before heading out with his spare bag to give Ciel, Noah, and Neils their gifts.
To Ciel, Deuel gave a digital tablet and stylus, guessing that the latter might need those for his hobbies. To Noah, he had a new maroon jacket of syntethic fibres in reserve. And for Niels, last but not least... He gave this plushie:
This also indicated that he had been planning to confess to Niels for some time now...
Raven Rivers
Raven was the first to arrive, his pace almost frantic as he said to his commanding officer and old friend, "I should have known to keep my mouth shut. And to think these bastards actually think I'd come near ten meters of a Firestarter."
Colonel Wayne and any other observer who looked hard enough could see that Raven was both more composed than he was during the supply raid, yet somehow even angrier.
The man's next words were, "I'm taking full responsibility for this, Sir."
He didn't elaborate; he didn't need to. He allowed the enemy to get under his skin and now all of them are going to suffer for it. Nevertheless, he had to ask, "We can't get there in time, can we? All those people, they're going to die not knowing whom to properly curse."
This is our darkest hour, Raven Rivers thought. There can be no full rising from this, no ending without something we deeply regret. We'll forever be scarred by this, no matter what happens after.
Even if we kill every last one of the impostors, our enemies, our abusers, we will never rid ourselves of the unclean feeling that they stained us with. Our honor - God, I sound like Ingrid - has been sullied forever.
Raven sighed and said, "The Prisoners in Fort Tie Shan will further suffer for this. Everyone we loved and cared about, including my Katrina and Andrew, they'll suffer from everyone, including their fellow innmates and the guards."
He looked at his Colonel, then at Ingrid, and Reya, and Ziska and Tarak and everyone else and said, "What's the plan? We have plans for a turnaround, right? We can't let this be our darkest hour, we can't let this be the edge of the cliff..."
Andrew Rivers
Andrew was trying to gain the FPA's trust by doing menial labor and chores whenever permitted, giving them advice on weapons and motorcycle maintenance and as much information about the Green Knights as he can without outright compromising the latter. He was trying to prove himself useful and he seemed to have gotten a little bit of progress in that.
Then those impostors just had to burn down North Nui Awa and now he was trying to clear his name to a bunch of soldiers, some his age, then various officers, continually saying until his voice wore out, "We don't even have a Firestarter - These are Impostors! None of us would never touch a Firestarter with a ten foot pole!"
He needed to make his case clear, he needed to convince his captors that the Green Knights and him were innocent. He must not sound hysterical as he did so, or else...
A fist came flying at him; he didn't know whether it was a child or adult who hurled it, but he caught the blow with his forearms - Courtesy of his father's lessons - before repeating his assertion, "Those are impostors. We would never do this. Not when the real enemy is out there..."
He cannot cry. He was sixteen, he cannot cry! He was older than this, he was more capable than most other folk, he was supposed to be - No, no, no, no, he was crying!
His eyes were wet with tears, tears of grief and rage and sadness. He was not above it all. Nevertheless, he could hear footsteps stepping away from him; did they believe him now, or did they still doubt him?
He collapsed onto his knees, inadvertedly, overcome by emotion. Andrew Rivers knew that no amount of hatred hurled at the enemy will fix what they did. Only clearing their names would.
But he had to admit, maybe he had no role to play in that?
Raven was the first to arrive, his pace almost frantic as he said to his commanding officer and old friend, "I should have known to keep my mouth shut. And to think these bastards actually think I'd come near ten meters of a Firestarter."
Colonel Wayne and any other observer who looked hard enough could see that Raven was both more composed than he was during the supply raid, yet somehow even angrier.
The man's next words were, "I'm taking full responsibility for this, Sir."
He didn't elaborate; he didn't need to. He allowed the enemy to get under his skin and now all of them are going to suffer for it. Nevertheless, he had to ask, "We can't get there in time, can we? All those people, they're going to die not knowing whom to properly curse."
This is our darkest hour, Raven Rivers thought. There can be no full rising from this, no ending without something we deeply regret. We'll forever be scarred by this, no matter what happens after.
Even if we kill every last one of the impostors, our enemies, our abusers, we will never rid ourselves of the unclean feeling that they stained us with. Our honor - God, I sound like Ingrid - has been sullied forever.
Raven sighed and said, "The Prisoners in Fort Tie Shan will further suffer for this. Everyone we loved and cared about, including my Katrina and Andrew, they'll suffer from everyone, including their fellow innmates and the guards."
He looked at his Colonel, then at Ingrid, and Reya, and Ziska and Tarak and everyone else and said, "What's the plan? We have plans for a turnaround, right? We can't let this be our darkest hour, we can't let this be the edge of the cliff..."
Andrew Rivers
Andrew was trying to gain the FPA's trust by doing menial labor and chores whenever permitted, giving them advice on weapons and motorcycle maintenance and as much information about the Green Knights as he can without outright compromising the latter. He was trying to prove himself useful and he seemed to have gotten a little bit of progress in that.
Then those impostors just had to burn down North Nui Awa and now he was trying to clear his name to a bunch of soldiers, some his age, then various officers, continually saying until his voice wore out, "We don't even have a Firestarter - These are Impostors! None of us would never touch a Firestarter with a ten foot pole!"
He needed to make his case clear, he needed to convince his captors that the Green Knights and him were innocent. He must not sound hysterical as he did so, or else...
A fist came flying at him; he didn't know whether it was a child or adult who hurled it, but he caught the blow with his forearms - Courtesy of his father's lessons - before repeating his assertion, "Those are impostors. We would never do this. Not when the real enemy is out there..."
He cannot cry. He was sixteen, he cannot cry! He was older than this, he was more capable than most other folk, he was supposed to be - No, no, no, no, he was crying!
His eyes were wet with tears, tears of grief and rage and sadness. He was not above it all. Nevertheless, he could hear footsteps stepping away from him; did they believe him now, or did they still doubt him?
He collapsed onto his knees, inadvertedly, overcome by emotion. Andrew Rivers knew that no amount of hatred hurled at the enemy will fix what they did. Only clearing their names would.
But he had to admit, maybe he had no role to play in that?
Intermission Two: Ghosts of Angeles City
The Ritz Hotel - 10/18/2022, 20:30 UTC+8
Task Force Obsidian had been reassigned to Angeles City for 'mandatory leave', and said leave was going to be spent in a hotel, one of Angeles City's finest. Noel was not sure what to think about such 'special treatment' as he listened to Rear Admiral Absolo inform them of the terms of their 'no choice vacation', but he knew everyone else deserved it for their hard work.
After all, he still had not made up for the 'Myron Incident'. Speaking of his fellow Arms Master, the latter still kept a distance from everyone else, having selected the seat furthest away from the group. Guess that moment of helping Kaitlyn and Iker did not change much about the group's opinion of him.
Having come from a relatively 'new money' Family, Noel was used to the luxuriousness of the hotel and knew that what made it all possible was Lotus Squadron and they were keeping the skies clear. He should thank them sometime when they landed; the successes in Lingayen Gulf and Mischief Reef were just not possible without them, but it was up to the Vietnamese Government to reward them, which they probably will due to how they were just that crucial.
Either way, once the group was dismissed, he'd take his keys from the concierge and go to his room; it was in the Regal Suite. For a brief moment, the boy sighed; he missed Regil already - Just what had happened to the other boy, his sister, and William, the enigmatic British guy? Were they gone like most of the Volunteers once they had acquired a taste of battle and war?
It hurt, seeing more people leave; Task Force Obsidian was shrinking and he was sure the Chinese knew it; their spies were everywhere even after the Government of National Salvation's 'housecleaning'.
This meant that Noel and Myron had the thankless task of rooting out enemy spies who tried to infiltrate Task Force Obsidian itself - Enemy spies who might have genuinely useful Noble Arms to boot. That said, he might be able to, at his own discretion, hire his own volunteers and have Myron vet them - There are also graduates of Trinidad Academy, the Philippines' own Arms Master training facility, to take into the group. But that meant that if those turned out to be compromised by China... That it would be his fault.
Two newspapers were delivered to his door; he took them - There was a national newspaper and a local tabloid, and the headlines on the latter chilled Noel's heart.
Apparently, there were rumors that the Amerasian - American + Asian mixed-race people - community in the area were the reason the Chinese were targeting Angeles City with missiles, drones, and bombers. These were falsehoods, but Noel knew how those could harm.
So he took the initiative and called Sister Marta through his new contacts, asking, You've seen the Tabloids - The ones in English, not Tagalog? I'm going down to the lobby to discuss what to do about them. You wanna come?
Balibago, Angeles City, Philippines - 10/18/2022, 20:45 UTC++8
Balibago Street was the red-light district of Angeles City, where the descendants of the US Military Personnel that had inhabited Clark, mixed-race children who were unclaimed by their fathers, were concentrated, driven by poverty to continue in the profession of their mothers, aka prostitution, which was illegal but winked at in this country.
Myron was born there, but to an American businessman, not a soldier; the results were the same, though. Now, he and a unit of military police were keeping order, protecting people who despite their discrimination and degradation, were countryfolk, from those who sought to exploit them.
His presence terrified some, calmed down others, and caused yet more to spit at him for treachery perceived and real. It mattered not, if Noble Arms could protect them, then he'd take back everything bad he said about those weapons.
Then suddenly, there was a mob; forty to eighty men and women with bamboo spears, machetes, and pipe guns, shouting hate against the people they had always looked down upon as the lowest sort of folk for their origins. As the unit of military police - Barely eight men and women - called for reinforcements, Myron drew a K1A Compact Assault Rifle and pointed it at the mob.
No one hurts my people, he thought, hoping they would be intimidated. Imagine that; I have a people.
@SkyHresvelg@Lewascan2@Conscripts@Gerlando@Creative Chaos@Nimbus@QJT@Amidatelion@Ryik
The Ritz Hotel - 10/18/2022, 20:30 UTC+8
Task Force Obsidian had been reassigned to Angeles City for 'mandatory leave', and said leave was going to be spent in a hotel, one of Angeles City's finest. Noel was not sure what to think about such 'special treatment' as he listened to Rear Admiral Absolo inform them of the terms of their 'no choice vacation', but he knew everyone else deserved it for their hard work.
After all, he still had not made up for the 'Myron Incident'. Speaking of his fellow Arms Master, the latter still kept a distance from everyone else, having selected the seat furthest away from the group. Guess that moment of helping Kaitlyn and Iker did not change much about the group's opinion of him.
Having come from a relatively 'new money' Family, Noel was used to the luxuriousness of the hotel and knew that what made it all possible was Lotus Squadron and they were keeping the skies clear. He should thank them sometime when they landed; the successes in Lingayen Gulf and Mischief Reef were just not possible without them, but it was up to the Vietnamese Government to reward them, which they probably will due to how they were just that crucial.
Either way, once the group was dismissed, he'd take his keys from the concierge and go to his room; it was in the Regal Suite. For a brief moment, the boy sighed; he missed Regil already - Just what had happened to the other boy, his sister, and William, the enigmatic British guy? Were they gone like most of the Volunteers once they had acquired a taste of battle and war?
It hurt, seeing more people leave; Task Force Obsidian was shrinking and he was sure the Chinese knew it; their spies were everywhere even after the Government of National Salvation's 'housecleaning'.
This meant that Noel and Myron had the thankless task of rooting out enemy spies who tried to infiltrate Task Force Obsidian itself - Enemy spies who might have genuinely useful Noble Arms to boot. That said, he might be able to, at his own discretion, hire his own volunteers and have Myron vet them - There are also graduates of Trinidad Academy, the Philippines' own Arms Master training facility, to take into the group. But that meant that if those turned out to be compromised by China... That it would be his fault.
Two newspapers were delivered to his door; he took them - There was a national newspaper and a local tabloid, and the headlines on the latter chilled Noel's heart.
Apparently, there were rumors that the Amerasian - American + Asian mixed-race people - community in the area were the reason the Chinese were targeting Angeles City with missiles, drones, and bombers. These were falsehoods, but Noel knew how those could harm.
So he took the initiative and called Sister Marta through his new contacts, asking, You've seen the Tabloids - The ones in English, not Tagalog? I'm going down to the lobby to discuss what to do about them. You wanna come?
Balibago, Angeles City, Philippines - 10/18/2022, 20:45 UTC++8
Balibago Street was the red-light district of Angeles City, where the descendants of the US Military Personnel that had inhabited Clark, mixed-race children who were unclaimed by their fathers, were concentrated, driven by poverty to continue in the profession of their mothers, aka prostitution, which was illegal but winked at in this country.
Myron was born there, but to an American businessman, not a soldier; the results were the same, though. Now, he and a unit of military police were keeping order, protecting people who despite their discrimination and degradation, were countryfolk, from those who sought to exploit them.
His presence terrified some, calmed down others, and caused yet more to spit at him for treachery perceived and real. It mattered not, if Noble Arms could protect them, then he'd take back everything bad he said about those weapons.
Then suddenly, there was a mob; forty to eighty men and women with bamboo spears, machetes, and pipe guns, shouting hate against the people they had always looked down upon as the lowest sort of folk for their origins. As the unit of military police - Barely eight men and women - called for reinforcements, Myron drew a K1A Compact Assault Rifle and pointed it at the mob.
No one hurts my people, he thought, hoping they would be intimidated. Imagine that; I have a people.
@SkyHresvelg@Lewascan2@Conscripts@Gerlando@Creative Chaos@Nimbus@QJT@Amidatelion@Ryik
Appearance:
5'6|140 Pounds
5'6|140 Pounds
Name: Amadeo Balagtas
Age: 18
Nationality: Filipino
Noble Arm Name & Appearance:
Noble Arm Rank:
Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Melee + Support, Wind, and Close Range.
Noble Arm Abilities:
Wind Manipulation - Amadeo can move the air around him, allowing him to manipulate minor weather patterns and to fly at subsonic speeds.
Misc Abilities: A well-read youth who is also athletic; he likes track and field and fencing and is also a good painter and a reasonable photographer.
Personality: Amadeo fantasizes about the war ending tomorrow so he can continue on with his life, a sentiment that makes him look lazy and unmotivated; he prefers to present himself as someone with no purpose in life, although he values his 'Inheritance', the Noble Arm that had been 'grown' from his Grandfather's soul and found a new home in him after the latter's death. His Grandfather, Michael Balagtas (not actually related to the Filipino Poet), was the person he most admired, being a poet of exceptional merit. He fancies himself an artist, dedicated to showing people the beauty of the world even at these times, and wants to make a work that speaks to both mind and heart, although it frustrates him that he is no good as a poet while he has very few chances to practice his painting at wartime.
He feels inadequate due to having acquired a Noble Arm not by personal development but through his soul's resemblance to his Grandfather's, which attracted his Noble Arm to him. This inadequacy fuels sloth in him, but being called that entrenches him in his (presented) purposelessness and inferiority complex. Nevertheless, he is patriotic enough to want to protect the country that was dear to his Grandfather, and so despite complaints, he struggles to do his part; he is a reluctant patriot but a patriot nonetheless.
*Likes: Beautiful things, tasteful decor, poetry.
*Dislikes: Bad poetry, tacky and gaudy decorations, actual work.
Fears: What would be worse? Capture by the enemy, or Death?
Bio: A graduate of Manila's infamous 'Trinidad Academy', Amadeo embodies the stereotype of that place; a lazy bum coasting by on his family's wealth and reputation.
This reputation was built during the days of his Grandfather, Michael Balagtas, who grew his own Noble Arm from his own soul through personal development and wielded him against the country's foes, which included its own Government during darker days. After the restoration of Philippine Democracy in the 80s', Michael reconnected with his children and grandchildren, and he encouraged Amadeo to be a painter and an athlete while tasting the joys of life without excess.
But it all ended in tragedy after Michael's death, as Amadeo inherited his Grandfather's Noble Arm, the Sword of the Wind, and his parents promptly transferred him out of his previous school and into Trinidad Academy to be trained as an Arms Master, where he, in an act of rebellion, purposefully held himself back to the minimum required to pass.
While he was glad that he resembled his Grandfather enough for the latter's Noble Arm to be drawn to his soul, he also couldn't but feel that he had been cheated out of his own development. Either way, his reputation as a lazy, somewhat depressed lout did not save him from being called to war when China struck, and so he is now at the war front, trying to make sure that the country his Grandfather valued still stood, that its beauty was preserved as much as possible, that its people finally had a chance at raising themselves up.
*Current Goal: Overcome his inferiority complex to his Grandfather.
Military or Civilian Rank: Sergeant.
*Optional
@Digmata, Approval Two. Nice plot hook.
@Nakushita, Not able to join right now, but I just want to show you my support for the hard work you've shown here.
Deuel Akakios
Deuel was in beach clothes, which to him meant a speedo, sandals, a straw hat, and sunglasses, the latter two of which were now unnecessary due to it being sunset. So that meant that he'd stash the two close to his bedroll (he brought a spare tent for emergencies, too), then walk towards Niles, raise his hand, and say, "Wait, I'll come with you."
The night was warm and he had plenty of sunscreen and insecticidal lotion, meaning that he could afford to stay in his chosen 'attire' for several hours more, especially if there was a bonfire. Either way, he'd walk with Niles for a bit and pick up driftwood, looking at him from time to time, hoping that he could broach the subject of what he wanted, knowing exactly what was at stake, what he should fear if he failed - The implosion of their friendship and the end of their ties.
He had once scorned romantic protagonists for not being able to confess their love right away. But now he saw where they were coming from, how one wrong step could destroy a life-long friendship. But he can't afford to lose Niles, they were friends, and Deuel was the only one rich enough to afford to go where he's going. So as they collected firewood, Deuel swallowed his nervous spit, cleared his throat, and said, "I'm coming with you. Not just here, but where you're going. I want to take a bigger role in my family's charities, but I want to be with you too."
Deuel let the subtext sink in. "I can afford to follow you, and I'd be a fool not to. Don't get me wrong, I like Conner and Ciel and the others as well, but I love you -"
Crap, I just blurted it out, were Deuel's surprised thoughts.
Not that he would back down, now that he'd said it. So he followed up with, "I gave this some thought, pondered it over days and weeks and months. But what I feel for you, this yearning, this warmth and fire, it's love."
What is love, though? Is it finding solace in another person, be they a man or a woman? Is it wanting to be together with them forever, no matter what? Is it the willingness to take risks to achieve those ends? All I know is, I want what's best for him as much as I want what's best for myself. Does he want what's best for me as well?
He fought his fear. His fear that Niles might not even be capable of liking him that way. He fought the urge to just walk off or more embarrassingly, run off.
Deuel somehow found the strength to continue on, "But if you think you're not ready or if you don't want it, just forget what I said. If what I said burns what we have now, just forget about it."
The young man forced himself to wait, surprised at how afraid he was but schooled his responses anyway. Then he said, almost whispering, "I don't want to lose you, or anyone, but I don't want to lose you."
@Ryik@koi
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