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⥑ Ember to Ashes ⥏ Dark Fantasy/Mythology (Interest Check)

Tenny, I want you to poop in public the moment you enter Goeta. ^{That is not a request, its an order.}

@Haha

RP ain't even started and you're treating him like shit...

⥑ Ember to Ashes ⥏ Dark Fantasy/Mythology (Interest Check)

Tennaeus the Funny Crab Man

Tennaeus, or The Mad Oracle of Fonys

________________________________________ Tennaeus Malstein 50 | Male | Human _______________________________________________ ❏ BIRTHPLACE: Porta ❏ CASTE: Hermit ❏ AFFILIATIONS: The Malstein Family (Prior), The Fine Arts Society of Porta (Prior) ❏ GOALS: To appease the Gods that have taken over his life and, hopefully, convince them to leave him alone. _______________________________________________ TALENTS: ◆ Outdoorsy. Living in the woods for 20 years gives you a good sense of how to get around without anyone's help. ◆ Keeping It Contained. There are many terrible things that Tennaeus could do, but he fights the urge. ◆ Sounding Mystic. Strange revelations sometimes come as plain as day, but who would believe them if they didn't sound vague? EQUIPMENT: ◆ Carving gear, with which he can make animal corpses into more useful things. ◆ Traps, which is useful for making animals into animal corpses. ◆ A crossbow, which the Gods convinced him is the best solution for making animals into animal corpses when the traps don't work.

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ A handsome and stately man prior, his appearance is now warped and strange - pale, pitted skin pulled taut over a muscular but thin frame, sunken and glassy eyes that glow with an eerie light, narrow fingers tipped with claws and a hunched back. He wears a bulky raiment of animal bone and carapace tied over long rags and rattling strings of bone-chip prophecies he's etched to remind only himself. He wears a thick veil over his face, claiming it is at the behest of the Gods that he keep hidden. Personality ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ At first glance, just speaking to him and ignoring the circumstances one is likely to meet an insane fortune-teller in the woods, he would come across as glib but doddering. More immediately like a precocious grandfather whose finer details and sense of time have become lost with age. However, any further past that and he's clearly quite insane. Referring to things and people that don't possibly exist and muttering strange things that only grow more disquieting as you think about them. He does as his so-called 'Gods' demand of him, and sometimes that drives him to act violently - but not without an outburst of weeping apology that only makes the whole of it more disturbing to view. Erratic and uncertain, he is only barely holding onto the semblance of humanity he's left in himself before he becomes something else entirely. Arcana ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Major: The Fool There's only so many ways one could begin to describe seeing everything at once and having to process it with but one mind. Driven from his rich life as an epicurean and thrown out to the hills, he can sometimes parse what he gets as useful knowledge and "advice" from the "Gods". He claims that the gods of this world are just barely-existent pantomime of things at the same time greater and far lesser than them, and this isn't terribly endearing to most people, so he's far removed from society - but not entirely. They say that, if you can survive the days-long trek to the cave in the woods where he resides, sometimes he will speak to you. And sometimes, he will say things that one man couldn't know on his own. His mind-breaking knowledge of everything can be used to drag up prophecy and impossible knowledge, and through this he has found...something to cling onto. He could have broken into far more pieces than he would have otherwise if he didn't live out a life as a minor prophet. To be frank about it, he gets to know things OOC that he has no IC business knowing. Minor: N/A

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Combat: ••••• Culture: ••• Commerce: •• Magic: • Survival: •••••••••• Karma: •••

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⥑ Ember to Ashes ⥏ Dark Fantasy/Mythology (Interest Check)

I'm not certain about it for obvious reasons, but would you be willing to take any characters with the Fool arcana?

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Ingrid rocked once more, this time sent forward! The explosions of a set of high-yield missiles were coupled with the instantaneous beeping in her helmet's speakers that warned her of a sudden and completely unexpected shot to the back. An early warning system like this had saved her life plenty of times before, but this time it was merely redundant.

Returning the Ostroc to its full stance, she did a backpedaling three-point turn that brought the machine about-face as fast as she could. That Jenner was going to be a pain until she could get rid of it - but first, the life of her comrade was more important. Her limited readout of Ziska's Raven's status on her screen flashed critical warnings, and a quick glance to the right revealed the same thing - the bird-like mechanical form on the ground, smoking from fire and pushing itself back upward. If there was one thing they couldn't afford, it was losing her...

She offered a mostly redundant call of "Alleycat! Full retreat, don't waste your time here!" before she did much the same. It took too long for her tastes to line the shot up on the much more nimble Jenner, and she knew she was making a sloppy, dangerous shot, but if anything would spell out "Hau ab" to the enemy pilot, it was this.

Four barrels of fire, four tubes of missiles, all fired at once in its direction. After that, she'd run for the hills, or the storm cell at least. The heat around Ramrod flashed once more, violently, and this time it stuck. Regardless if she hit, if anything was going to scare it off...

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Ingrid, heeding her own advice, had spotted the enemy coming visually and was quick to drop her cargo for a shot at self-defence. However, she wasn't prepared for the burst of fire that was coming her way - it was lucky that it was only the two who came after her, for the blast was withering enough.

Her whole world rocked about and she briefly struggled to keep a grip on the stick of her 'mech, Susser Tod's torso listing backwards and threatening to topple over entirely. Her armor was scored with still brightly-glowing marks of glittering heat, and in one moment, she was reminded why all battlemechs are respected on the field, no matter the size. It was only by a quick, if textbook, response on her part that she didn't fall flat on her giant metal ass: a joystick pulled backward to give a single step of reverse movement, alongside neurohelm impulses to put her weight onto her back leg, allowed her to recover and stand upright a moment later.

She barely heard her own order with the ringing in her ears, but nonetheless she shouted "Remember! Fighting retreat! Focus on breaking away - focus on the Raven." and turned.

The bite of the enemy commander's barbs was enough to elicit a reaction out of her on open channels, but as her mind envisioned great tales of valiant knights taking on witches and always coming out the victor, chivalric allegories that would be well-remembered in this battle...

...the urgentness of the situation made her response come out much less eloquently, and much more reflexively German. "Halt die Klappe, du Schwätzer!" She closed the line and focused.

Her physical response was the loosing of her Fuersturm-C Large-class lasers, aimed at the first enemy within her line of view: the Jenner. She braced, aimed, shot out two brilliant beams of blue light - feeling the wash of heat come over her instantly, the heat sinks of her mech struggling to instantly sink it.

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

"GREEN KNIGHTS, THIS IS GAWAIN ACTUAL."

Someone in the maintenance crew hadn't prepared for the (admittedly slim) possibility that the Ostroc would be receiving such a high-amplitude burst on the comms channel - some failure to calibrate the 500 year old comms suite in just the right way. The Colonel's message had been received at several times its actual volume, and Ingrid rocked in her seat as she slammed a palm against her neurohelmet to get the damn thing to quiet down. Luckily, it only lasted five seconds.

Regardless of Lyons' worries, it was very certain that at least one of them was listening.

The deep hum of the 'mech's cockpit and grinding of metal fingers against a cargo container resumed as her ears came back to full strength. She grunted, and flipped on comms for all friendly channels.

"I hope you heard him, lance!" Her voice came out even more staccato and commanding than usual. "Nav-point Echo! Double-time! This will not be as easy as the compound if the enemy catches up to us; eyes on radar and eyes on the horizon! Your battlemech and your life are more important to us than the cargo, remember that!"

He pushed her 'mech to move to its limit of speed, the container weighing her down and undoubtedly putting even more stress on the actuators. Occasionally there'd be a loud scrape as the box ran against some rock protruding from the ground. She didn't have time to treat the damn thing properly...

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Work was done quickly, smoothly, and efficiently. Ingrid's fears had been partially laid to rest. No outrageous dishonor was needed here, just solid work - she gave a small huff of contentment. Congratulations would be needed on all their parts...even the tankers. Yes, she did notice that napalm round going off in the corner of her vision, because it'd be hard not to notice the largest firework of the day going off. It was...not the ideal way of dispatching the enemy, but it worked, and what else were they there for?

In contrast to the grime and shock of the field that Reya was experiencing, the view from the Ostroc's cockpit made it all seem quaint. The most attention she had thrown the way of the infantrymen down there was a flash of green light that evaporated a man with a missile launcher aimed at her, and with the last weapons sounding off between 'mech and enemy, it all but escaped her mind.

It took her a moment to recognize the voice coming in on her comms, but it was clear enough. The slight Kuritan accent, hard to notice but never impossible, gave it away. "Copy, Sunflower. I will get him on that. Stay safe down there." That well-wish came across little stiff, but she's always stiff.

Just as, and she couldn't stress it enough, just as Giggles called out the arrival of air cavalry, so too did Raven manage to pick them up on visual. They're never slow like in the movies; they'll be on them in a moment's notice. Ingrid pulled over towards the shipping containers, and spoke on the comms again: "Good eye and good mind, respectively. Giggles, take out all air support first, then load up. Family Man, once we have all left, I need you to destroy the entrace to the base; fire into the ground and make it as hard as possible for them to come reclaim later."

She made Susser Tod perform a squat, which is far from the top of the list of what the designers of the machine intended - she could hear some groaning as the hip actuators strained in ways that they rarely had to in its centuries of service. Still, with the Ostroc's long arms, it was easier than kneeling. A shipping container was taken in two hands like a strongman getting ready to toss a caber, and then she was off and out of the base.

"We are moving out, Desperado. Don't stray too far from the APCs in case--when something else turns up, but now we're hauling. Copy?" It was going to be a fraught few minutes for her. With the container blocking her weapon's ports, the only thing she could rely on were her 'mech's SRMs, and those would be pointless. Unless the air cav pilots felt suicidal enough for a low, sweeping dive on the giant robots today.

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

Susser Tod accelerated one second after the others had begun. The weapons on that machine held the advantage of range over the others, and the terrain didn't do much to keep things stable - Daschke would have to bring her in below top speed if she wanted to be accurate, so she lagged slightly behind.

Her 'mechs right arm hung over the front of the torso, just below the the mountings that held the lasers' lenses, giving her that additional bit of armor to the chest. The enemy was hardly equipped to break through its armor anyway, and damage to the hand would endanger salvage operations later if it failed, but they couldn't yet afford repairs. All precautions had to be made.

Of course, as she advanced, she had to stop for a moment as Mechwarrior Rivers started swearing - not even a particularly good reason to swear, by her estimate. She mentally shrugged and decided to deal with it later if it became a recurring problem.

She fired at the lasers, briefly slowing to half-speed to ensure the best possible shot, and then raised her external speakers' volume to its highest - the enemy would, hopefully, hear her over the din of the fight.

"This is Duchess Ingrid Daschke of Gawain's Green Knights. We demand your immediate surrender!" she said, pushing her already commanding tone to its fullest. She hoped, though faintly, that the appeal to nobility would make them seem like more than mere thugs. "We do not see fit to execute you without cause - abandon your transports and we will leave you be! Fight, or run, and we will have no choice but to fire with intent to kill." She leaned back in her seat, reaching up to the cockpit's canopy to flip a couple of rarely used switches. Her message would repeat itself over the speakers automatically, having been caught by the 'mechs comms computer, until disengaged.

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

It was the small things that annoyed Ingrid sometimes - the atmospheric pressure gauge in her cockpit had been broken for some time. The Ostroc's designers made the strange choice to install it analogue in what was otherwise a decently advanced equipment suite. Made it very hardy and unlikely to suffer in feedback, made finding the replacement parts a nightmare. It broke sometime during her first engagement with the Green Knights, and not once had they found a way to fix it.

It was redundant anyway; the atmosphere's composition was often one of the first things you'd read about a planet before going into an operation. You had about the same effect by cutting out the line from the briefing's print-outs and taping it over the gauge anyway.

It still annoyed Ingrid.

She was out of it and she knew it, the knife-sharp wit she was brought up to exhibit being too dull to cut. She tried to focus and focus hard as the rest of the group called up and offered their readies - ultimately resorting to a quick hit to her own neurohelmet to get the fog out.

"Giggles, your answer is to aim for the first in line," she said with clear reservation. Ultimately, no she couldn't come up with an answer that satisfied her own sensibilities and her standing orders. "If one truck breaks down in front, the rest will be thrown into disarray - we will engage and demand surrender. If they do not capitulate, you act as you see fit. Keep your eyes skyward, though - air support won't be far behind."

A half-assed compromise that was going to make things worse in the end, even if it was just common sense. She turned off the line for a moment to grumble to herself.

"On my mark, Steel Rain fires - the rest will move upward, and I want Family Man to close-in to the end of the convoy to keep stragglers from escaping that way. Close enough to threaten, not close enough to trip mines. Alleycat, Desperado, move with me to encircle the column, and your first priority should be taking out their escort and defenses. The runners are your second priority. Giggles holds the rear and engages targets as opportunity provides."

She took a moment of pause. By her count, just a little bit more needed to give the tankers the time to prepare...the tension in her head grew in the silence.

"On my mark..."

The Ostroc leaned forward into running posture. She took in a sharp breath.

"Mark!"

Mechwarrior: Disposable Heroes

"Short-sighted. Yes. The few of us who intend to leave after we get off this god-forsaken planet are few - we need to plan on the future."

Her nose turned upward. "But they have their reasons for doing so; if they wanted to be petty and spiteful, they would be taking flamethrowers to barracks right now. I understand the whole of the Colonel's plan in a most utilitarian and spartan sense. They wish to maximize our gains from this operation..."

"The cost, Rivers, is to our honor as noble Mechwarriors. Our integrity as greater men and women to have ever ridden on the battlefield." You could swear that you've heard this line before. "But...I figure your dilemma is more emotional than chivalric. It is wrong 'as a person', not wrong 'as a Mechwarrior'."

She stepped away, saying "You are in the right, but for the wrong reasons. I give you permission as Lance Leader to act in combat as you see fit. That will be all."