ReusableSword

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

“My dark past makes me mysterious, I swear. You don't understand, I'm a monster, man... Like, super mysterious, man.” Honestly he did not understand why others mocked him, was he being rude or a bit much? He was quite unsure of this. Still, this troubled him while he walked away from the mess hall, troubled him so much he was begining to become frustrated. Why does he suck so much at socializing with others? It seems to be an ongoing issue with him.

He paused while walking to the cabin stopping half-way between buildings there were a few concrete slabs of the path here. Left barren with obvious signs of an old flag pole that was no longer being used and was cut in half. The pole was painted white with spots of rust the place where it had been cut in half was at an angle, “Strange” he spoke aloud and stepped back. He dug his toes into the earth, and he slowly was able to feel the ground beneath him. Surely this would take his mind off of other things.

Sculpting was one thing he had been working on for some time now, molding blank pieces of stone into pieces of art was rather enjoyable and for him calming. So he started like he normally did with a slab of stone. Kneeling first and resting his hands on the ground he acted as if he was grabbing onto a rope or a chain, his breathing grew deep then steadied as he slowly lifted the invisible chain the concrete slabs and dirt lifted, cracked then fell to the sides of him. He gritted his teeth and seemed to struggle slightly, the stone slab pushed up through the ground. Exactly what he wanted a slab of stone that was a bit rough around the edges that stood a bit taller than him and was just about five and a half feet across the base.

He walked around the stone carefully feeling ever crack and visualizing what he could make. A few things came to mind from his sister, to the four other campers smiling in the semi-circle from earlier. Yet he decided on something not by his memories but by what he saw around him, many people, with many backgrounds, and many views of the world. All crammed together in this small camp for a few reasons, to learn how to co-exist and to learn to control. So he had found what he wanted to make, something that wouldn’t show favoritism, something simple and meaningful.

Slowly he began to work with the stone, every time he brushed the surface of it a chunk of stone would crumble to the ground leaving the surface smooth and unmarked. Slowly chunk by chunk the statue took shape, one could very easily make out three rings of stone that interlaced with each other. Next came finer detail, the rings were rounded and engraved with Celtic knot designs around the entirety of each of them. He stepped back feeling that his work was adequate in the few minutes it took him to make it. He finished out the sculpture by smoothing out the ground around it cover the surroundings with a polished Grey stone for its foundation and erected a small plaque in front of it. The plaque had two things on it, one was the outline and faded shade of an oak tree and a single word that read “Unity.” with this he was done.

He stepped back from the statue giving it one final look over before heading to his cabin. He knew full well that they were not supposed to stay out past their “Bed time” but he technically didn’t sleep anymore, just a few hours of meditation can keep him going for a few days. Still, he pressed forward stopping by the cabin to drop off his things and make sure everything was there. The cabin was rather untouched, his things were to one side where his roommates were to another. It did not take the boy long to organize his things to one side of the room, putting his clothes away in the dresser provided, hanging up a few coats, and setting up a picture of his sister on the window sill. For a moment he simply stared at the picture but with a casual sigh he continued to set up the rest of his things, taking his amulet off and laying it next to the picture and setting up his sword on its stand behind them.

Again he stepped back and looked around to make sure he wasn’t forgetting to put anything away and walked back out of the cabin. Taking his time he strolled around the campus before slowly finding the old training grounds. They were in a bit of disarray but it didn’t seem like it had been used in a little while, about the size of two football fields side by side mostly covered in concrete with some patches of astro turf and outdoor foam pads. So for the time being he took it upon himself to find a push broom and sweep up the area before beginning his training. His training is simple it is somewhat like martial arts and meditation, it helps to calm his soul.

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

@CollectorOfMyst ..... kind of

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

Dont mind me im just lurking around

Halo: Acceptable Losses

Victor Romanov

/// Query: Request Access to View Document: Granted // Victor Romanov // SN: 25486-15S58K-15864 //

/// Query: Name: Victor Romanov //

/// Query: Age: 27 // November 25th //

/// Query: Gender: Male //

/// Query: Home world: Reach // New Alexandria //

/// Query: Rank: Sergeant //

/// Query: Squad Role: 3rd Marine Expeditionary Force // 9th Division // 503rd Regiment // 3rd Battalion // Baker Company // 1st Platoon // Combat Team Romeo // Whiskey Squad // Second in command //

/// Query: Military Involvement: 9 years in the UNSC // Romanov was assigned to the Epsilon Eridani Fleet and His squad was tasked to a medium-sized Patrol Cutter the “Green Macaw” assigned to search civilian ships for suspected smuggling of contraband or insurrectionists for 4 years. // Romanov then requested to be transferred to the 3rd marine expeditionary force where he has been for the last 5 years. // Has had minor missions dealing with Covenant forces, most missions are hit-and-run and involve retrieving tech and weapons from small covenant encampments. //

/// Query: Background: Victor grew up in the upper class of New Alexandria, his parents were prominent business people with high government connections and were more than occasionally threatened by insurrectionists. These things come with the territory when you make weapons and tanks for the UNSC. Victor didn’t spend too much time in the city for those reasons, his favorite place to go was his uncles. His uncle owned a farm in a remote place on the planet, Victor would spend days working with the animals and tending farm land, exploring the land around the farm while being careful not to get caught by the harsh storms or the large predators of the reach. Not something one would expect from a rich kid, yet he enjoyed the thrill of adventure.

When he turned 18 he joined the UNSC, his parents protested, but they were part of the reason he joined up in the first place. He made it through boot camp just fine but was a bit disappointed to find out he was being assigned to a patrol cutter with the Epsilon Eridani Fleet. He did have a sinking feeling his parents may have pulled some strings to keep him close to home. Still, he was never far from combat, his cutter was one of 5 in a squadron tasked to searching suspicious civilian transports for contraband. His squadron was occasionally supported by a destroyer and saw many fire fights on board the ships they were searching.

He learned quickly who to make friends with and who not to, not that he wouldn’t be friendly just some of them were more prone to being hurt or killed when on mission. This scrapping with the insurrectionists continued for some time even earning him and his squad the attention of some ONI personnel when they found rather interesting contraband or weapons, sometimes Intel. Honestly he didn’t mind working with ONI agents or “spooks” as some others marines described them. As long as you didn’t lie or ask too many questions they seemed to be an OK bunch to him.

This is more than likely a reason why more and more of their missions had something to do with ONI over time. Raiding vessels and ships sometimes even military ones all so their ONI handler that was tasked to them at times could do what he needed and then they would leave. His command seemed to understand whenever they would search a ship that wasn’t on the mission log. Romanov figured he was tasked with a handler because of his squad’s knack at finding Intel and contraband that seemed important.

Still, after 4 years of being ONI’s delivery boy while getting shot at by insurrectionists, he received a promotion to Sergeant after his was shot and badly wounded on one of their raids. For reasons he did not know his ONI handler seemed to stop contacting him, he figured they were busy with something else. After this, he put in a transfer request to an open position in the 3rd marine expeditionary force. His request was approved and was quickly moved into his new position finding himself doing similar raids but this time against Insurrectionist bunkers and safe houses. It didn’t take him long to get used to ground based raids and even found himself getting along better with these marines then his old squad.

However, everything changed when a new enemy emerged from the shadows. He remembers that day the first time he heard the word covenant used with such malice. He remembers the situation report and the sudden scrambling of military options, and he remembers the new missions. Raids on alien outposts and salvage ops to places destroyed by orbital bombardment all for the hopes of salvaging some tech.

These raids continued for a little while until he was transferred out of his squad to take command of fireteam sledgehammer. He knows something big is coming down from the top brass he’s not too sure what it is but whatever it is won’t be fun. So now on his off time he’s slowly been training himself more and more trying to get some tips from some ODST’s he comes across and more veteran fighters than himself. Still, he’s not sure what he is preparing himself for but whatever it is he does not believe he is ready for the coming storm. //

/// Query: Personality Traits: Victor could be described as the strong silent type when not on mission. He tends to keep to himself unless he likes you and even then comes off as awkward or blunt towards others. He’s not one to beat around the bush and tries to keep a cool calm demeanor on and off the battlefield. This makes him at times seem monotone and seldom shows emotion towards others, he’s protective of his friends and has lost friends in combat. He is not one to be impulsive or brash on the battlefield and tries his best to think things through. //

/// Query: Physical Characteristics: 6’5” 275 Lbs.
/// Query: Portrait:

Victor Romanov

/// Query: Gear:
// M739 SAW (Squad Assault Weapon) //
// M6G PDWS (Personal Defense Weapon System) //
// UNSC Standard Issue Combat Knife //
// UNSC Battle Dress Uniform //
// Back pack with Misc. Gear //

/// Query: Relationships: Holly Romanov - Sister // "Im going to kill you right after i kill these other marines" // Clerical Error Detected: Stand By // Clerical Error Found: Siblings should not be assigned to the same platoon // Please Advise: Error Message sent to administration //

/// Query: Hobbies: Collecting and listening to old earth music. // Playing with and figuring out covenant technology. // repairing broken things from machinery to electronics. //

Halo: Acceptable Losses

this looks fun

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

alright my post is up, hope none of you mind a wall of text I had a while to make it.

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

Torok continued to meditate for some time, the vines, shrubs, and flowers consuming his form until he was simply a bush. The boy had little control over it, he seemed to do it on a subconscious level in order to effectively hide while he meditated. The bush soon stopped growing as soon as he was consumed by it. He couldn’t hear what was going on around him anymore, as memories flashed through his mind.

These memories held no value at first, black and white images soon turned into motion pictures and muted colors with deafening silence. Before long, he was reliving days long past running through the forest or, so he thought. Slowly the images began to become clear slowly he could see himself running towards some great monster in the distance, devouring trees and destroying a place he thought of as home. He knew it was bad his instincts told him to run the other way but his anger drove him forward. The hill was just in front of him, yet he still tried to hold himself back. The top of the ridge was flooded with a bright light and as the boy reached the top of the ridge, and he was enveloped in light he opened his eyes.

His strange deep dark eyes faded and cleared adjusting to the warmth and fractured light of the sun making its way through the brush. Sound was slow to make its way back to him, the chatter and laughter of the campers in the hall nearby began again, and he could hear others walking past. A sigh escaped him, sweat dripped off his face, and he slowly regained control of his breathing through several deep breaths. He hated that, whenever he was stressed that memory would always slither its way back into his mind. He couldn’t remember how or what he did, but he was told of what he did by his mother and father. Somehow he returned to that location once last year and could sense the bones deep in the earth, it really had happened, and he couldn’t remember.

With a slight adjustment of himself he stood up from the bush, the bush slowly withered down and away no longer did it have its source of life within its grasp. He stood there in the grass for a moment regaining his sense of surroundings. He decided after a few more moments that maybe retrieving some food wasn’t that bad of an idea. So he walked back up to the mess hall, most of the other students were already eating their food while it seemed some had returned for seconds. He wasn’t picky and wasted no time making a couple ham sandwiches with veggies, he was also quick to eat said sandwiches as well.

He was about to go back outside and find where he was going to be staying yet, he couldn’t help but over hear a conversation near bye. Now Torok wasn’t known to be an eave's dropper, but he couldn’t help his keen senses at times, and one of the voices was familiar. Subtly his dark eyes glanced around only to find the source of the voice being Tempest, he remembered her. The girl he spent the last two years in classes with, she was attractive, but he never spoke to her or bothered her. Yet, he found himself curious as to if she would recognize him after his 6 inch growth spurt. The girl seemed to be talking to the lighter haired fellow who had interrupted him earlier and two smaller children at their feet. Those possessed dolls where strange yet most here are, the female one did look cute and in a way the boy reminded him of himself last year, a bit timid. Still, he couldn’t help but over hear them talk about monsters and for him it struck an unseen cord.

Still, he pushed down his slight anxiety and stepped up to the four of them, black eyes glanced at all of them for a moment. His look was stern and his deep voice was rather monotone as he spoke, “Tempest is right, you will not find any monsters here in looks or ability.” He didn’t seem to care that he was butting in to their conversation, slowly he looked away from Tempest and to the light haired boy. “However, you will find that myself and some others are monsters for the things we have done, whether we chose to or not.” The last bit seemed to hold just the slightest bit of sorrow. Again he paused for a moment looking around at all the happy campers and once more at all of them, “you all remind me of my sister” he turned and began to walk away whispering quietly “innocent” before exiting the mess hall and walking toward the cabins.

@tenma tendo @tybalt capulet @candlelitcraft

Torok was quite aware that what he said to them and Tempest was more than likely the first thing he has ever said at this place. He figured it was long enough, he had to prove at least some rumors about him were false. Him being a mute was one, he knew there were others, he did over hear one once where he was some kind of murderer. The truth wasn’t too far off. He didn’t always like being mature or cold, but people tend to mature quickly when their innocence is wasted. Traumatic events tend to do that to people.

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

Had a pretty good view of the eclipse got to 98% from where we are up here in the Oregon mountains

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

Ill be able to get that post up sometime today or tomorrow

☽ Remedy, a Summer Camp for “Wayward Juveniles” ☾

Situation report: Well nearing the end of day 2 and the cadets are beginning their second mission consisting of room clearing and hostage rescue in the last 48 hrs 4 of those were spent sleeping the rest involes being loud and angry while also doing highly physical things.... i am tired and am running off energy drinks and very unhealthy snack food... that is all carry on.