Yam I Am

What Are You Listening To?

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

2nd Lt. Connor

---

___________________________________ Connor, 23 ________________________________________________________________________________________ 2nd Lieutenant | Tyrella, Dokkum, United Kingdom of Edinburgh ___________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► DOB - 2/27/1891 ► Height - 5'7" / 173cm ► Weight - 138 lbs / 63 kg ► Hair Color - Blue ► Eye Color - Emerald ► Classification - Officer ► Rank - 2nd Lieutenant ► Sexuality - Bisexual -

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Thankfully for him, Connor hasn't quite yet hit the physical brick wall that is the lasting dread-faced cake over his expression that plagues the officer's corps so. While the young officer hasn't quite reached the level of daily existential dread and remorse that might be overtly plastered over each and every self-respecting lieutenant, his constantly dreary countenance simply oozes cynicism. The mere disinterest he holds within his malachite eyes dampers the drab tone of his olive officer's uniform to a dull wash.

---_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

"Tyrellian Darcsen" should immediately bring a few instinctive traits to mind: The image of a jovial young man, joyous in spirit and a warm smile upon his face. Connor fits well into this image: It just takes an inhuman amount of effort to get him there. Get him a whiskey in one hand, a cigar in the other, a woman (a man will suffice if he's sufficiently rugged and handsome with just the right cheekbones) around each arm - and perhaps another between his legs for good measure - and he will take showing this stereotype into consideration. No guarantees, of course, but that is just par the course for Connor. Viewing both his job and authority with immense incredulity, Connor is only certain to pay as much heed to convention as is absolutely necessary and will more than happily tell the rest to take the piss. In a power structure as per-ordained and rigid as it is, exercising even the tiniest amounts of authority is just enough to get some satisfaction out of it. Not only does he think that this overt nepotism is fine, but he goes as far as to believe this is expected from all but the most sobersided of people.

Clear as day, Connor will forever live in the shadow of his missed potential and the long-bygone dreams of what-could-have-been. Connor is, perhaps obviously, a bit aimless in his personal life, and this hollow outlook on life haemorrhages into each and every conversation.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

It should come as no surprise that Connor was the awkward middle child of his bunch. Bright Moira, ever the strong eldest sister, was always gifted with the keen intuition one of her station always should. Little Kilian was born adept and sharp, possessing an intellect to impress even grown men. As it goes, some are born academic, and book-smart. Others are savvy, and street-smart.

Connor, unfortunately, was born neither.

Connor immediately was thrust into an unenviable position of incredible mediocrity within a lower-middle class Darcsen household. With few talents and even fewer apparent flaws, Connor had little to show for himself between the acumen of his sister's tongue and the percipience of his brother, and instead drifted through his formative years forever playing second fiddle to his siblings. Truly, he had very little to distinguish himself, and as a result spent much of his time overlooked in spite of his efforts to make himself known. The residual feeling always tugged at him, slowly eking into how he acted.

Come the eve of his 18th birthday, the young man remained forever at an impasse. He could of course go into the medium of tedium in some trade, or go assist his parents in their endeavours - or God forbid, once more playing to the assistance of his sister as a merchant or his brother in his studies - yet...where was the drive? What good was that life but to live as another second fiddle for the rest of his life, only standing aside in the spotlight while another took the glory? No, it was at that eve that Connor took initiative, and set forth to distinguish himself. And where greater to set himself apart than in the glorious officer's corps of Edinburgh's Army? He redoubled his efforts henceforth, applying himself (after once more pleading to another patron to pay his tuition) towards the academy, and determined that he would finally get the recognition he always pleaded for within Edinburgh's military.

Fitting, then, that the irritable young man has emerged from the academy onto the battlefield to once again play second fiddle to the storied Captain Alexander Middleton.

---_{P O T E N T I A L S}

Easy, Peasy, Extra Sleazy: Frankly put, Connor could give a damn what his underlings do, so long as the objectives are taken, the job is done, and everybody comes home okay. He views most minor mishaps as personal issues and will generally allow most scuffles to sort themselves out on their own; Paperwork is something he does his absolute best to avoid. He takes bribes, calls in favours, and is generally pretty open to every officer corruption scheme you can think of. Considering this nonchalant attitude towards regulations, Connor frequently turns a blind eye towards minor violations if it doesn't effect the unit's effectiveness as a whole. Come the time it does, however, Kirk may be very willing to use very underhanded tactics to spot the violator into a world of trouble...

Gold Heart With A Rust-Iron Coat: Let's make no mistakes in calling it what it is: Connor's an asshole. He doesn't beat around the bush and isn't going to hesitate to get into shouting matches at the pub over weekend football or why a private can't do their job right. In spite of his rusty nature, Connor remains a gentle heart. He would never send a private to do something he wouldn't do himself, and will generally be willing to take some falls for close friends. Earning Connor's respect might be a bit of a roundabout - and perhaps daunting - task, but to those who are in the know, know that, deep down, he's a good guy.

Darcsen Bond: Connor knows it as well as everyone with dark hair: Darcsens gotta stick together if they're gonna make it. When around other Darcsens - or people he knows are sympathetic towards them - he has the tendency to "go a bit easy" on them, where he begins to put on a "big brother" persona. In contrast, those who harbor prejudices against Darcsens will very quickly learn that Kirk will be more than happy to "give them something to complain about"...

Out Of The Frying Pan...: Having just emerged from the Officer's Academy, much of Connor's tactical and leadership capabilities are largely theoretical. In start contrast to Captain Middleton's years of battlefield experience, Connor has only his life experience and the teaching of the dogmatic Edinburgh Officer's School to guide him. It remains to be see whether he will be rectified or authenticated in the trenches of Assen...

---_{E Q U I P M E N T}

- Mk. VI Revolver
- Binoculars
- Connor's Signature Coffee Mug
- Federation Commissioned Officer's Uniform

---_{A F F I L I A T I O N S}

- Esmé (Mother)
- Faolán (Father)
- Moira (Older Sister)
- Kilian (Younger Brother)

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

Captain Alexander-John Middleton: Connor vaguely recalls referring to him as a, "pug-faced cunt" one night while he was out drinking with his fellow cadets, but the details remain a bit foggy. While that might might be a blur, his sentiments are crystal clear. Connor hates Middleton's guts and does everything in his power to undermine his authority whenever he can get away with it. The two have a purely professional (if dysfunctional) relationship, and generally only speak to one another when absolutely necessary.

-

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-A Template by Load Wraith

What Are You Listening To?

Yam Ranch - The Ranch House

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__________________________________________ Rocco Savage, 19 _______________________________________________________________ Atlantic Federation | Orebrook, Dominion of Oceania _______________________________________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► DOB - 02/14/1895 ► Height - 6'2" / 188cm ► Weight - 157 lbs / 71 kg ► Hair Color - Syracuse ► Eye Color - Capri Blue ► Classification - Scout ► Rank - Private ► Sexuality - Bisexual -

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E True to Oceanic fashion, Rocco can always be found to be at least a little unkempt. Always stylishly disheveled,

---_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Rocco is a bit of an odd bird: When most in the Federation think of an Oceanian, their mind is immediately imprinted by the thought of the brash assault of a jovial, jolly man, long hardened by the rigorous climate and fearsome wildlife of the region. The cultural impression is one that is difficult to escape, yet Rocco has - perhaps more impressively - both mold to and reject these notions. On first impressions, Rocco appears quiet, perhaps a bit awkward. Portraying himself with remarkable modesty, his speech itself is simultaneously well-mannered and charmingly uncouth, often peppering his language with the trademark obscenities that pass for regular conversational diction in his home country.

Yet, not far beneath this balmy, mild-mannered picture lies perhaps the "real" Rocco. Rocco's has little concept of the words shyness or timidity, for he will very rarely avert himself from the fullest - and most dangerous - experiences that life has to offer, to which he gorges himself generously on this apex of sensation. In the thick of conflict, when one is pushed toward limits, Rocco finds himself and others capable of feats they very well knew nothing of prior. Rocco adores this sensation, and covetously prowls for the next euphoric experience. Simply incapable of remaining still, to put Rocco in a desk or standing observation position would be little aside from incarceration to the lad.

When the moment has subsided, and the memory has condensed well into his head, Rocco impulsively begins writing down the encounter in loving detail, all the while murmuring cackling reminiscences while his mind rushes through the emotions at once. He is all too happy to share his adventures - in one form or another - and simply will not hesitate to enthusiastically recite his most recent ordeal in full measure...or to cast fortune to the wind, and allow his audience the pleasure of the same experience.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

WIP

---_{P O T E N T I A L S}

Adventurer: Being an Oceanic was just the start. Some say that Rocco is audacious by nature; After all, Zwollian passion mixed with Oceanic hardening can only make one who is as irreverent as him. Rocco is, perhaps, an impulsive thrill-seeker, and beneath his outward awkwardness belies a keen daredevil. There are few risks that the Oceanian is willing to shy away from, for even in the most intense of artillery barrages can he be found enthusiastically taking photographs in disturbingly loving detail.

"Experimental" Journalist: The turn of the century proposed a whole new definition of the art of writing and media, and Rocco intends to be the harbinger of this new artistic revolution. Rocco is simply enchanted by the possibilities of the new era that is to be ushered in of "immersive media", and he has determined that this new phenomenon is to be solely created by transporting media away from a detached, analytical worldview and towards one which is solely perpetuated by the experiences of the writer, as if to tell the story if the reader were there themselves. He is far from shy in his endeavours, and will enthusiastically explain his purpose in the war in this advance (if it also earns him many an odd look in the process).

Twitchy: Rocco just can't sit still for the life of him. His hyperactive demeanor puts him in a constant state of intrigue and interest, to the degree that he simply must be constantly engaged in something or another.

Eccentric Inheritor: Having been the only surviving child between the late Savage family, Rocco stands as the sole heir to the formidable Savage family fortune. Although legally this immense inheritance is bound to his foster guardians and his grandmother, their aloof (and equally self-serving) attitudes toward the matter have done little to prevent Rocco from attaining his sums from a very young age. As such, Rocco is accustomed to being able to solve any inconvenience with a liberal application of liquid assets. While he has, in his youth, had experiences most could only dream of with his wealth, such also has inevitably distorted his worldview.

---_{E Q U I P M E N T}

- SM-L Mk. 3
- Grenades
- Oceanic Slouch Hat
- Newman Explorer Camera
- Spare 35mm Film
- Notepad, Journal, and Pencils

---_{A F F I L I A T I O N S}

- Ascanio "Archie" Graziani Savage (Father - Deceased)
- Cheryl Savage (Mother - Deceased)
- Aveline Kennard (Guardian Mother)
- Teagan Kennard (Guardian Father)
- Floriana Graziani (Grandmother)

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

None at the moment.

-

---

-A Template by Load Wraith

What Are You Listening To?

Yam's Organic Character Farm and Distillery

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__________________________________________ Inès Lévesque, 21 _______________________________________________________________ Atlantic Federation | Ostend, Valois Republic _______________________________________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► DOB - 09/13/1895 ► Height - 5'10" / 182cm ► Weight - 153 lbs / 69 kg ► Hair Color - Midnight Blue ► Eye Color - Bright Blue ► Classification - Shocktrooper ► Rank - Lance Corporal ► Sexuality - Bisexual -

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Where once may have lain the face of a Junoesque savateuse has since washed away in the fires of war. Where once a jovial keenness gently softened toward a natural Darcsen beauty now shows in its place the sharpened, ardent features of Inès' stone-cold demeanor. Inès has received many a compliment for her fairness, yet, the incendiaries of war are rarely a beautifier, for where once the young woman smiled in confidence at every turn has she instead produced a steadfast scowl. A world-exhausted tinge spatters across once clearly-bright blue eyes, accompanied by a regular cake of grime and sweat which - in spite of her efforts - pertinaciously reappeared each and every day. The typical attitude by which Inès portrays herself to others is thoroughly exhausted unto apathy, yet one which belies a perhaps uncharacteristic anger towards the common onlooker. Beneath her unassuming Valoisian uniform lay a fit frame, honed from times far prior to her entry in the Great Europan War. Part agile, part powerful, and all thoroughly impressive. With scant access to any such manner to style her hair, to look at a photograph from when Inès joined the war and compare it to her now is to find a likeliness to an untended park. Long since grown unchecked for the past two years, what once was a short, shaved cut along her sides with an over-fold along the top has since naturally grown to near shoulder's length. Its brilliant, Persian Blue hue shines with the unmistakable heritage of a Darcsen - and its blued, matte muting bears the indubitable conditions of the frontline.

---_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

Inès is easily irritated, but difficult to make genuinely angry.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

---_{P O T E N T I A L S}

Hard-Tempered: The poverty-stricken districts of the Ostende metropolis bred hardships aplenty. Between rampant gangs, squalid housing,

Gant D'Argent: Inès has not earned such an esteemed title for nothing, for the esteemed rings of Valois do not grant such titles willy-nilly. Indeed, Inès has only earned the title of Gant D'Argent through rigorous trial and tribulation - one which has seen much intermittence in the midst of the Great War - and will surely no forefeit such easily. Inès has earned her title, tried and true, through many fights and arrangements throughout the Valoisian underground circuit, and such a mastered savateuse is surely a desired skill admidst the trenches of the Great War - No doubt, a circumstance as to why so many famed savateurs the likes of she have found themselves recruited in the midst of the Great War.

Body Sense: When coupling together her extensive experience in fighting and the nefarious social web of Ostend, Inès has long since developed an acute sense of "sizing others up". Naturally suspicious by necessity, she is able to pick up on even minute changes in posture and positioning, and as such has a honed talent for sensing one's future movements and true intentions.

- SM-L Mk. 3
- FAM Modele 1906 "Cardinal Rogue"
- Grenades
- Valoisian M1899 Bayonet

---_{A F F I L I A T I O N S}

- Joan Lévesque (Mother)
- Guy Lévesque (Half-Brother)

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

Jean Robin-Charpentier

Views Jean mostly with pity.

Franz Blau

Inès' boyfriend and close confidant.

Isaac Black

Thinks he's fairly stupid. Wonders how he ever got promoted.

Freya Baines

Awkwardly had a one-night stand with her. Has a strange friendship.

Diana Vastergoth

Airheaded blondie.

Michael Daunte

Doesn't talk much.

-

---

-A Template by Load Wraith

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

Leo Sokołowšky

---

___________________________________ Leonore-Zofia Küchler-Sokołowšky, 22 ________________________________________________________________________________________ Volhynia | Hoznán / Horazan, Volhynia, East Europan Imperial Alliance ___________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► DOB - 10/31/1893 ► Height - 6'0" / 183cm ► Weight - 173 lbs / 78 kg ► Hair Color - Blonde ► Eye Color - Light Blue ► Classification - Sapper ► Rank - Foreign Legionnaire - Acting Corporal ► Sexuality - Bisexual -

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Leo towers over most women from the Federation in an almost statuesque posture, her fit and able frame honed from years of hellish regimen. Fair-haired and with two sparkling azure eyes, Sokołowšky's presence is - barring all else - nothing short of thoroughly impressive. Nestled beneath her army cap and helmet belies her back-length blonde hair, pinned up before battles. No matter where she may find herself, nor with how few resources, Leonore makes a point to take care of herself, and takes immense pride in presenting her best appearance. Always presenting with a unshakeable smile, standing as upright as a mighty ancient oak, the Volhynian is always certain to exude an air of confidence about herself. Leonore's uniform is a piecemeal assembly of uniforms, strewn together over years of scavenging and stitching. Her singular constants are the iconic white, red, and navy armband of the Volhynian flag, which proudly adorns her left sleeve. She makes note to keep it spotless, always rubbing down any grime or gristle which taints it after each and every engagement.

---_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

"Extrovert" does not even begin to describe the aggressively outgoing demeanor by which Leonore carries herself. There are few instances in which Leo will refuse discourse..and even fewer in which she will not begin to indulge in all manner of queries and commentaries until exhaustion. This, compounded by Leo's rapid pace of speech, couples together to form a thoroughly colorful vocabulary which leaves its audience wondering if what is spoken is truly what she had meant, or if she simply lacks the diction to hold a more fitting conversation. Perhaps a result of years spent around the Federation's most crass soldiers, Leo seems to be very comfortable asking the more blunt questions in life. She may come across as incredibly to-the-point, and perhaps a bit crude, yet Leonora finds no fault in, "telling it how it is", as she puts it.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

The twin daughter of a Volhynian comedian and a Leican-Imperial priestess of Valkyrur, Leonora came to in the eastern city of Hoznán (Known in Imperial Standard as Horazan). In the Volhynian capital metropolis, she was immediately immersed into a turbulent period of Imperial history. From the moment she was born, Leo was exposed to the national rebirth of Volhynia, with more and more voices raising their support for the long-awaited recognition of the historic region within the greater Imperial Alliance. These wishes often clashed with the views of the more conservative hardline Imperialists in Schwarzgrad, who frequently decried this national sentiment as being disruptive to the unity of the Empire. Battles in academic circles soon accompanied fights in the streets and countryside. Citing the composite nature of the Empire, many within the upper echelons of the Imperial Alliance felt that the continued nationalist sentiments of Volhynia's distinct culture - as well as many other subject nations within it - were unfounded. In contrast, the Volhynian volksgeist more frequently decried Schwarzgradian dominance over Imperial politics and culture, claiming the Alliance - in truth - was little more than a formality to High Imperial hegemony.

Leonora, even from birth, was thoroughly torn between the Imperial and Volhynian worlds. Torn between two languages and with two names, the young woman was thrown right into this rift. Instructor after instructor would give contrasting views, the wedge between the two nations only driving between the use of Volhynian and Imperial Standard even in daily life. Her childhood was filled with news of insurrections by paper, and dinnertime conversations of national awakening. Confused and looking for guidance, a young Leo often turned toward her father, asking what to make of the incertitude. He would simply give a gentle smile, put a kindred hand upon her shoulder, and spoke the simple words, "It is better to do the right thing and lose than to do the wrong thing and win. Do what is right, not what is easy."

In the words of her benignant dad's advice, Leonore found her sympathies trudging more and more towards the cause of so many who had bravely stood before the Imperial authorities for the sake of an entire nation. Come the fated day where the Imperial prince saw himself assassinated at the hands of of separatists, Leonore had no doubts in her mind; This was the line in the sand, and the Empire would never be willing to allow the cause of any beneath its iron grasp to be free. Then, it was decided. She searched high and low, traversing all manner of old Volhynian societies before finding the group that would eventually become the Volhynian Legionnaire's Society. In the dead of night, Leonore explained her plans, and gave her last farewells to her siblings with a smile on her face, promising them that - when she returned - it would be to a free Volhynia. With a joyously tearful response, Leo departed her home with the phrase, "Just don't tell mom i'm in Valois."

Upon her treacherous arrival across the Adriats and into Federation soil, Leonore's reception along with the Legion's was met with a rather...lukewarm response. It was clear that the additional help was more than welcome - and from Imperial separatists, no doubt - yet these volunteers, Leonore included, arrived to the Federation with a classical Volhynian uniform, a mishmash of whatever arms they carried from home, and what paucity of Federal language they could pick up from the journey over. Simply put, in 1911, the Federation had no clue what to do with this influx of volunteers from Imperial territories, nevermind how to fit them into the Federation's military structure. Yet, it was ever-clear early on that these men and women who arrived had come to fight, and it was quickly decided in the Federation that they would merely do just that. Leo and her compatriots were put through the standard training regime, and in the weeks of training just before the journey to the front, Leo would march and sing the legendary Volhynian marching tunes with nothing but jubilance, confident that this war would be over by the new year - and with the new year would come a new Volhynia, with a hero's welcome.

The years have not been as kind to her as the initial prospects of war had suggested. Through Maren, Chartreuse, Voiseilles, and Sarrebourg, Leonore has persisted through bloody battle and hellish conflict. Many of her comrades have come and gone, yet her determination remains ironclad. Leo has swore unto herself not to let the many deaths of her friends and compatriots go to waste, and now drives her further and further to see the conflict unto its absolute end, with the proud white, red, and navy flying majestically over Hoznán...no matter the cost.

---_{P O T E N T I A L S}

Fierce Patriot: Leonore will die for the Volhynian cause with nothing but joy in her heart and a smile on her face. Overbearingly outspoken about her admiration towards The Fatherland and its noble plight for freedom, she will never cease to "enlighten" others about the glories and wonders of Volhynia. To her, The Empire is a despotic, tyrannical regime which only desires total Europan domination - and if Volhynia and millions of others trapped within Imperial chains are to be free, it must be military defeated. She borders on fanaticism in her beliefs, and will seldom give any ground on any issues related to the cause.

"Ščo?": When Leonore first signed on to the Volhynian Legions and arrived in Federation lands, she came not knowing a single word of the Federal language. Four years of immersion have helped her comprehension immensely, yet Leo is far from "fluent" in any regard; Her speech is heavily accented, and she often interchanges words she doesn't know with those of her native tongue, fishing for a response. She has heard commands and general phrases aplenty to not be confused with battlefield orders, but in more technical, verbose conversations, Eleonora may have trouble keeping up.

"Marš, Vołyniny, Marš!": East Europans are notoriously stubborn, and Eleonora fits this mold quite well. Equal parts valiant, foolhardy, and utterly obstinate, Leonore refuses to allow any obstacle to slow the inexorable advance of her iron heart. She takes this in stride, often urging her comrades when they find themselves in despair to hold their heads high, always proud, and to forever march forward no matter the bleakness of their battle - For when the dust inevitably settles and the storm is weathered, Leo will say: "Never forget that we are saving nations and enslaved people!"

Veteran Legionnaire: From the moment the Great Europan War erupted, Leo immediately dedicated herself to the Volhynian Legion, trudging off to an unknown land with her comrades-in-arms to fight for a free Volhynia. She has spent four hellish years along the trenches and fields of Europa, and has survived some of its most brutal battles.

---_{E Q U I P M E N T}

- SM-L Mk. 3
- Trench Gun
- Grenades
- Engineering Kit
- Volhynian Legionnaire's Cap

---_{A F F I L I A T I O N S}

- Mihaiyl Feodor Sokołowšky (Father)
- Emma Küchler (Mother)
- Josef Gareon Küchler-Sokołowšky (Older Brother)
- Rozaliya Ksenia Küchler-Sokołowšky (Twin Sister)
- Riško Marcel Küchler-Sokołowšky (Younger Brother)

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

None at the moment.

-

---

-A Template by Load Wraith

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard [Pt. 2 - Open] ~

@LetMeDoStuff Knock knock motherfucker the Slav Zone is here

---

---

___________________________________ Leonore-Zofia Küchler-Sokołowšky, 22 ________________________________________________________________________________________ Volhynia | Hoznán / Horazan, Volhynia, East Europan Imperial Alliance ___________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► DOB - 10/31/1893 ► Height - 6'0" / 183cm ► Weight - 173 lbs / 78 kg ► Hair Color - Blonde ► Eye Color - Light Blue ► Classification - Sapper ► Rank - Foreign Legionnaire - Acting Corporal ► Sexuality - Bisexual -

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E Leo towers over most women from the Federation in an almost statuesque posture, her fit and able frame honed from years of hellish regimen. Fair-haired and with two sparkling azure eyes, Sokołowšky's presence is - barring all else - nothing short of thoroughly impressive. Nestled beneath her army cap and helmet belies her back-length blonde hair, pinned up before battles. No matter where she may find herself, nor with how few resources, Leonore makes a point to take care of herself, and takes immense pride in presenting her best appearance. Always presenting with a unshakeable smile, standing as upright as a mighty ancient oak, the Volhynian is always certain to exude an air of confidence about herself. Leonore's uniform is a piecemeal assembly of uniforms, strewn together over years of scavenging and stitching. Her singular constants are the iconic white, red, and navy armband of the Volhynian flag, which proudly adorns her left sleeve. She makes note to keep it spotless, always rubbing down any grime or gristle which taints it after each and every engagement.

---_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

"Extrovert" does not even begin to describe the aggressively outgoing demeanor by which Leonore carries herself. There are few instances in which Leo will refuse discourse..and even fewer in which she will not begin to indulge in all manner of queries and commentaries until exhaustion. This, compounded by Leo's rapid pace of speech, couples together to form a thoroughly colorful vocabulary which leaves its audience wondering if what is spoken is truly what she had meant, or if she simply lacks the diction to hold a more fitting conversation. Perhaps a result of years spent around the Federation's most crass soldiers, Leo seems to be very comfortable asking the more blunt questions in life. She may come across as incredibly to-the-point, and perhaps a bit crude, yet Leonora finds no fault in, "telling it how it is", as she puts it.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

The twin daughter of a Volhynian comedian and a Leican-Imperial priestess of Valkyrur, Leonora came to in the eastern city of Hoznán (Known in Imperial Standard as Horazan). In the Volhynian capital metropolis, she was immediately immersed into a turbulent period of Imperial history. From the moment she was born, Leo was exposed to the national rebirth of Volhynia, with more and more voices raising their support for the long-awaited recognition of the historic region within the greater Imperial Alliance. These wishes often clashed with the views of the more conservative hardline Imperialists in Schwarzgrad, who frequently decried this national sentiment as being disruptive to the unity of the Empire. Battles in academic circles soon accompanied fights in the streets and countryside. Citing the composite nature of the Empire, many within the upper echelons of the Imperial Alliance felt that the continued nationalist sentiments of Volhynia's distinct culture - as well as many other subject nations within it - were unfounded. In contrast, the Volhynian volksgeist more frequently decried Schwarzgradian dominance over Imperial politics and culture, claiming the Alliance - in truth - was little more than a formality to High Imperial hegemony.

Leonora, even from birth, was thoroughly torn between the Imperial and Volhynian worlds. Torn between two languages and with two names, the young woman was thrown right into this rift. Instructor after instructor would give contrasting views, the wedge between the two nations only driving between the use of Volhynian and Imperial Standard even in daily life. Her childhood was filled with news of insurrections by paper, and dinnertime conversations of national awakening. Confused and looking for guidance, a young Leo often turned toward her father, asking what to make of the incertitude. He would simply give a gentle smile, put a kindred hand upon her shoulder, and spoke the simple words, "It is better to do the right thing and lose than to do the wrong thing and win. Do what is right, not what is easy."

In the words of her benignant dad's advice, Leonore found her sympathies trudging more and more towards the cause of so many who had bravely stood before the Imperial authorities for the sake of an entire nation. Come the fated day where the Imperial prince saw himself assassinated at the hands of of separatists, Leonore had no doubts in her mind; This was the line in the sand, and the Empire would never be willing to allow the cause of any beneath its iron grasp to be free. Then, it was decided. She searched high and low, traversing all manner of old Volhynian societies before finding the group that would eventually become the Volhynian Legionnaire's Society. In the dead of night, Leonore explained her plans, and gave her last farewells to her siblings with a smile on her face, promising them that - when she returned - it would be to a free Volhynia. With a joyously tearful response, Leo departed her home with the phrase, "Just don't tell mom i'm in Valois."

Upon her treacherous arrival across the Adriats and into Federation soil, Leonore's reception along with the Legion's was met with a rather...lukewarm response. It was clear that the additional help was more than welcome - and from Imperial separatists, no doubt - yet these volunteers, Leonore included, arrived to the Federation with a classical Volhynian uniform, a mishmash of whatever arms they carried from home, and what paucity of Federal language they could pick up from the journey over. Simply put, in 1911, the Federation had no clue what to do with this influx of volunteers from Imperial territories, nevermind how to fit them into the Federation's military structure. Yet, it was ever-clear early on that these men and women who arrived had come to fight, and it was quickly decided in the Federation that they would merely do just that. Leo and her compatriots were put through the standard training regime, and in the weeks of training just before the journey to the front, Leo would march and sing the legendary Volhynian marching tunes with nothing but jubilance, confident that this war would be over by the new year - and with the new year would come a new Volhynia, with a hero's welcome.

The years have not been as kind to her as the initial prospects of war had suggested. Through Maren, Chartreuse, Voiseilles, and Sarrebourg, Leonore has persisted through bloody battle and hellish conflict. Many of her comrades have come and gone, yet her determination remains ironclad. Leo has swore unto herself not to let the many deaths of her friends and compatriots go to waste, and now drives her further and further to see the conflict unto its absolute end, with the proud white, red, and navy flying majestically over Hoznán...no matter the cost.

---_{P O T E N T I A L S}

Fierce Patriot: Leonore will die for the Volhynian cause with nothing but joy in her heart and a smile on her face. Overbearingly outspoken about her admiration towards The Fatherland and its noble plight for freedom, she will never cease to "enlighten" others about the glories and wonders of Volhynia. To her, The Empire is a despotic, tyrannical regime which only desires total Europan domination - and if Volhynia and millions of others trapped within Imperial chains are to be free, it must be military defeated. She borders on fanaticism in her beliefs, and will seldom give any ground on any issues related to the cause.

"Ščo?": When Leonore first signed on to the Volhynian Legions and arrived in Federation lands, she came not knowing a single word of the Federal language. Four years of immersion have helped her comprehension immensely, yet Leo is far from "fluent" in any regard; Her speech is heavily accented, and she often interchanges words she doesn't know with those of her native tongue, fishing for a response. She has heard commands and general phrases aplenty to not be confused with battlefield orders, but in more technical, verbose conversations, Eleonora may have trouble keeping up.

"Marš, Vołyniny, Marš!": East Europans are notoriously stubborn, and Eleonora fits this mold quite well. Equal parts valiant, foolhardy, and utterly obstinate, Leonore refuses to allow any obstacle to slow the inexorable advance of her iron heart. She takes this in stride, often urging her comrades when they find themselves in despair to hold their heads high, always proud, and to forever march forward no matter the bleakness of their battle - For when the dust inevitably settles and the storm is weathered, Leo will say: "Never forget that we are saving nations and enslaved people!"

Veteran Legionnaire: From the moment the Great Europan War erupted, Leo immediately dedicated herself to the Volhynian Legion, trudging off to an unknown land with her comrades-in-arms to fight for a free Volhynia. She has spent four hellish years along the trenches and fields of Europa, and has survived some of its most brutal battles.

---_{E Q U I P M E N T}

- SM-L Mk. 3
- Trench Gun
- Grenades
- Engineering Kit
- Volhynian Legionnaire's Cap

---_{A F F I L I A T I O N S}

- Mihaiyl Feodor Sokołowšky (Father)
- Emma Küchler (Mother)
- Josef Gareon Küchler-Sokołowšky (Older Brother)
- Rozaliya Ksenia Küchler-Sokołowšky (Twin Sister)
- Riško Marcel Küchler-Sokołowšky (Younger Brother)

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

None at the moment.

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-A Template by Load Wraith
Will get a new (and finished) sheet for Inès up soon

Falling Skies: Reboot (Mecha, Space Opera)

@vietmyke k, do what you need to do in the end this will probably just die.

@DeadDrop

Piece of shit gif doesn't work smh

Falling Skies: Reboot (Mecha, Space Opera)

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Hider

___________________________________ Lucina Anișoara Ionescu ________________________________________________________________________________________ 24 | Bucharest, Romania, United Earth Empire ___________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► DOB - March 9 ► Height - 5'7" / 170cm ► Weight - 152 lbs / 69 kg ► Hair Color - Red ► Eye Color - Emerald ► Callsign - "DJ" ► Confirmed Kills - 21 -

D E T A I L E D A P P E A R A N C E If you were to stumble upon Lucina on the street - or more likely, at the bar or the nightclub - the immediate impressions she gives is that she has remained 16 for the past 8 years. With once-jet black hair now a perma-dyed crimson red, an active physique, and a full sleeve of tattoos with another in the works, it's clear that she went to college to party and hasn't abandoned that ideal since. So, all that considered...Lucina's a fairly typical army girl.

---_{P S Y C H E V A L}

Prone to impulsive behaviors, Lucina is the type of girl to get paid on the 1st and go broke by the 3rd. She lives fast and hard, and doesn't bother asking a lot of questions along the way, unless it's a snarky snide about why somebody seems so lame or boring in her eyes. All of the answers to life's many (annoying) mysteries are located at the bottom of a bottle, Lucina's very vocal about the fact that the booze along the outer worlds are as cheap as they are. And as soon as she gets approved for time on leave, she's rounding up the posse, hitting the town, and more than likely won't come back for a few weeks. Typically, that's how members of her regiment tend to meet her, for she's always the first one to ask who's down for drinks after a mission.

When asked about her personal life, Lucina tends to refract the question, either by giving all-too-honest of an answer, or by presenting a sardonic response. Lucina is an open book; That book just happens to be written while the author was on their two-week bender after a messy divorce. She's all too happy to recite it. She just doesn't see an overwhelming reason put on a show about it whenever she isn't asked.

---_{B I O G R A P H Y}

The wondrous love-child of an Imperial lieutenant on his vacation and the fated desperate woman he picked up at the bar, Lucina spent most of her childhood bouncing between the less-than-glamorous Bucharest metropolis and wherever it was her dad happened to be stationed during the few weeks a year he got custody over her. Having to adapt to new faces and circumstances all the time, Lucina was constantly dragged between worlds. Whether upon the mountains of Carpathia or among the stellar colonies a long ways from home, Lucina had little time to develop lasting friendships, often having to leave them behind as soon as they were made.

Once finished with primary school, Lucina was strongly encouraged to off to university, to which the University of Targovista Mars would be her institution of attendance, opting to pursue a degree in communication. At UTM, her academic performance was...notably torpid, seeing as she had channeled her newfound freedoms to entrench herself into UTM's vibrant social life instead of towards life as an intrepid scholar. Unsurprisingly, within her first semester she was placed on academic probation, and by the end of her freshman year, UTM had suspended her due to her frequent absences and poor marks. Faced into the prospect, Lucina withdrew before her sophomore year could begin, and began looking for other opportunities.

At that time, the UEE was recruiting around Mars for new candidates for its recently revamped Mobile Armor Suit program, and faced with options which seemed only barely less desirable than whatever could come from a life of being shot at, Lucina threw caution to the wind and signed on with a recruiter. While looking through her academic records, many of her superiors - her recruiter included - cast serious doubts over her capabilities for MAS training, citing her history of poor reliability and lack of discipline as the foremost concerns. They had attempted to dissuade her on many occasions, instead offering up positions in Military Police or Chemical Warfare, yet every time she turned down their offers and told them to, "Let (her) join the damn MAS." What her superiors did not know, much to their amazement, was that when Lucina took to something, she took off. Beyond exceeding their (admittedly very low) expectations, the instructors within her unit were thoroughly impressed by the aptitude scores, and after some "initial suspicions" were ruled out, Lucina was cleared for training and induced into the 101st Legion at the age of 20.

Her performance so far has certainly been commendable, and Lucina has so far gained a reputation for being a dependable and capable pilot. During her first few years alone, she has managed to score (some of her accomplices prefer the term "stole") a good number of confirmed kills, for her ambush-driven style of combat has led her to shine in the attritional conflicts of the current era. She eagerly pushes herself towards attaining ACE status as a MAS pilot, and with her performance and experience only honing with time, Lucina just may attain the coveted status sooner rather than later, if only for lack of any other perceivable goals...

---_{E Q U I P M E N T}

Standard MAS pilot equipment for Imperial service.

---_{R E L A T I O N S}

None at the moment.

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___________________________________ Umblător Blindat de Luptă 053 - Modelul C ________________________________________________________________________________________ Medium Mech | ROMARM ___________________________________ [+] ▼ E X T R A I N F O R M A T I O N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Height - 36ft / 11m ► Manufacturer - Brasov ROMARM ► Role - Infiltration Assault ► Chassis - Medium -

R O L E A N D P U R P O S E Internally designated (and widely recognized) as an offshoot of the venerable PTX-051, the UBL-053 was designed as a stopgap between a heavier assault MAS and more lightly-armed reconnaissance vehicles. Intended first and foremost as an ambusher, the "Ileane" was created as a thorough breakthrough unit, where it would infiltrate enemy lines with the support of infantry and wreck havoc upon an unsuspecting enemy while still possessing respectable firepower. Notably, the Ileane is designed to be incredibly survivable, with the idea that even a disabled Ileane might be abandoned and its pilot resume the infiltration assault with the support of its accompanying infantry.

---_{W E A P O N S S Y S T E M S}

- M57 Light Support Weapon (Heavy): Developed as an LSW variant of the reliable M90 30mm Autocannon, the M57 most notably includes the replacement of its standard barrel with a fluted, chrome-lined barrel to improve cooling and long-burst accuracy, and the replacement of the fire control group with a fully-automatic firing selection. Feeding from either standard 100 round magazines or from 400 round drums, the M57 is able to provide accurate suppressive fire, pinning down threats at great ranges while the operator's unit maneuvers.

- MR553 DMR (Primary): An electrolaser designated marksman rifle intended for a counter-sniper role. While its energy retention doesn't quite come close to that of a "true" laser-based sniper platform, the MR553 is capable of disrupting many of the electronic systems many sniper MAS units rely upon.

- Pm.64 Multiple Launch Rocket System (Primary): The Pm.64 MLRS is a laser-guided micro rocket system with multiple payload options, ranging from antipersonnel to anti-armor to anti-aircraft. Capable of firing multiple rocket salvos in rapid succession, the Pm.64 is intended to provide ample explosive power, although the older-fashioned laser-guided system leaves a bit to be desired when accuracy is concerned.

- S11 PEMS (Secondary): The S11 Personal Electromagnetic Shield is a combat shield intended for use on a medium-chassis MAS. While its composition offers a fantastic weight-to-protection ratio, it is not optimized for intense firefights, and sequential barrages will break its defense.

- M15 Combat Knife (Secondary): The standard combat knife of Imperial MAS units.

---_{A U X S Y S T E M S}

- DS-3 Linear Frequency Deliminator (Auxiliary): By using the concepts of Linear Frequency Modulation, the waveform detection capability of radio detection (RADAR) systems can be substantially improved by increasing the duration of a transmitted pulse. Conversely, reducing the duration of a pulse improves the range resolution of the radar. Thus, Linear Frequency Deliminator is a versatile, wide-range jamming system, meant to scramble enemy detection systems via "bouncing" signals and returning back erroneous wavelength and pulse frequencies. The result is a capable Electronic Warfare system which can effectively disrupt enemy communications. However, a Linear Frequency Deliminator requires both good timing and coordination to use effectively, and requires frequent readjustment as not to be countered by enemy signalers who catch on to the interference.

- P3 Active Camouflage System(Auxiliary): A camouflage generator attached to the back of a MAS, it projects a field of particles over the MAS, effectively making it invisible to the human eye, as well as optical scanners, and tracking modules. The generator does not however shield the user from all scanners, and the generator unit itself dumps large amounts of heat upon deactivating. Camouflage generators are also notorious for consuming large amounts of energy, and the standard Active Camouflage generator can only continuously produce particles for a single hour before beginning to massively drain the power reserves of the MAS.

- P13M3 Active Defense System (Auxiliary): Created by Industria Imperială din Cluj, the P13 Active Defense System series is a proven and effective production copy of more common MAS countermeasure systems. The M3 variant boasts an improved starter agent and more refined aerosol composition to aid against heat and laser-guided tracking systems. Countermeasures do not take up a utility system slot.

-A Template by Load Wraith