Futuristic [DISCONTINUED] Dies Irae: Astral Fulcrum

[TheRealAngeloftheStorm]

MARIAN RUI MARIK

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

Zufaix , ANY

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

There was a tautness in her limbs that seeped into her very being as Adric’s voice rang out. The voices of private instructors, names forgotten and faces blurred by the passage of time sounded out in her head. Marian sucked in a breath through her teeth. Familiarity with following instructions - that’s all it was. It was almost too easy to settle into autopilot, let it all go. But she chose to focus.

Adric Pakston was no Ruian Marik. No need to compare to two.

As the cadets all lined up, she spotted a number of standouts. The ‘human’ was loudly boasting of his challenge to the white-scaled lizardman. Xihu’tein, the only other white-haired woman in the class had noted. Marian filed that away for later. The races of the Empire were many and varied. It would make for some light reading on her off time. She kept looking. A blue-haired man, red eyes flitting around and whispering something to the one next to him. A blonde girl, eyes already set on the goal. There were more, but the course wasn't going to complete itself. Slacking would earn her a reprimand.

Certainly a colorful cast of characters.

As Marian made to move for the obstacle course, she felt a light bump. She craned her neck, blinking.

Another Vranitran?

Briefly, she hoped it was Greion, that surly mechanic-miner in service of House Marik. The man was a familiar face, and someone who regularly defied Ruian’s orders. The experience he brought to the table, serving as a fighter in the Halation War’s early phases, was something that Ruian had determined his heir needed. It made him invaluable. He deserved to come here.

Unfortunately, it was not. The voice became clearer, less of a thunderous rumble and more of bells ringing, light and sonorous. Marian turned to face her.

“Aloensis?” Marian said. The name came with another association - House Elithad. One of Father’s vassals, scraping for attention at his Council. They were not vassals to be dismissed lightly; their harboring of the Aloensis family had afforded them some power. The scion of the Syncreo corporation that had once been a household name in the Empire…

And here she thought she’d be free of worrying about Vranitran power plays.

Whether or not House Elithad’s sponsorship of Aloensis would work out was something to be seen. Syncreo was busy rebuilding, with significant backing from House Elithad. Argead Elithad was most ambitious. There had been talks of marrying off the heir of House Elithad to the girl before her. Or was it the patriarch to the girl’s mother? Marian could not recall; Elithad was only mentioned in passing during one of Greion’s lessons on war and logistics.

“It is of no consequence.” Marian said, letting a smile onto her lips. A shallow, quick bow. “I look forward to working with you, Lady Aloensis. We must-”

A shout. Something about everyone being hot? Marian felt her smile fall from her lips.

“-endeavor to pass this physical, however, before we can speak at length.”

As Marian turned back to the obstacle course, she saw Aeoun race off, no doubt already intent on proving himself to the Xihu’tein and the other white-haired woman. It may have been a competition for him, but she did not intend to be left behind.

Hesitation is defeat, Greion’s voice reminded her, rolling into her mind like a sudden storm.

With that in mind, Marian leapt into action.

Code by Nano

 

[Worthlessplebian]

RAKH XIRILENKIA

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

koala , Midrick , Pilgrim59 LazyDaze

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

The brief fanfare of meeting everyone all at once subsided with the trouncing steps of their instructor. Even Nikadim's oft bold faced, hot-blooded attitude seemed to chill as this antlered veteran strutted his way through them. Rakh's eyes knifed to spot the deform-riven antlers then back to a spot on the wall with an impassive gaze. He was curious about that, their instructor suffered a malady, a sickness, that much can be gleamed from intuition. He is no biologist... Or, Rakh corrected his thoughts, a physician, but his rudimentary knowledge did tell him that health does not look like those antlers. In fact, as the older Xirilenkian, passed the bag along to the cadets beside him, instructor Adric Pakston's words, tone, and the way he carried himself reminded him of another person. Not his father, exactly, but Rakh had the pleasure of being acquainted with a man of similar nature; a militaristic, rigid mien. The name and rank dance on the tip of Rakh's mind, teetering on the cliff, just shy of plunging into conscious memory. But while Rakh lacked the name to the put to the face, his memory of the treatment was as clear as a raindrop. And it was good, perhaps the earliest, saccharine memory after Dazhoret's ravaging. One was a great man, will this Drill Instructor also live up to Rakh's expectations. Maybe, maybe not.

With his orders laid bare, Rakh was beginning his preparations for the obstacle course that they had to run. What, no push-ups until you're tired? He thought, before Nikadim got his attention again with another comment of his. His brow raised as his cheeks were pushed up by a half-way smile. "The circus? Nikki, we just entered the big tent." Rakh quietly replied to his younger sibling in their Dazhoretian tongue. A dry toast to his moist glass. His eyes followed a similar trajectory to his brother's, the obstacle course. He may not have leapt across rooftops, scaled buildings via pipage, or vaulting over fences like his younger pain in the arse sibling, but Rakh was an equal all the same. They both made it out of Dazhoret, alive, hadn't they? And it wasn't simply hiding in the rank, damp, rubble-ridden back alleys.

Rakh pressed his fingers into his palms, popping them like firecrackers. This was gonna get dirty, as obstacles courses tend to be. He's used to it though, a little motoroil here or there never hurt anyone as his old boss would say. They could've upped the ante with a PIXIE course or whatever the simulated experienced device was called. Then again, he wasn't sure they could scale that to encompass an entire course. An interesting idea, that.

Before they began however, he spotted that ghost-faced oddity, Eko, he recalls. He shoots an acknowledging nod to the phantasm-looking entity. He likes this kid's style, at least. He'll definitely at least ask him a thing or two about his origins. He rubs his wrists in preparation for the course, before a creepy-crawling, chill clambered up his spin. He angles his head sideways. He knew this feeling intuitively. A mental trick or talent that he picked up. His head looks over his shoulder to investigate the source of the disturbance. Lo and behold, it held true. It was that girl with the pepper hair. His nose hair burned with the scent of sandalwood, hints of violet and honey accompanied it. "Well, hello there." He says, his steel-lined tone with a molten, warm centre. "When we crash into people, it's customary to exchange insurances, no?" He offered a crack at their awkward first encounter. "I'm Rakh Xirilenkia," He introduced himself quite casually, unburdened from the aristocracy's yoke, moroso than can be expected from one with that inborn hardness to his face. Him and Nikadim both had it, even if one was wilder and more energy-infused than the other, they both ingratiated themselves with people shockingly fast. "And this," he turned around then lightly rapped against his brother's back with his knuckle. "Is my brother, Nikadim, or Nikki." He waited patiently for this noblewoman to introduce herself, but he fears that the only thing he'll gleam from is her name. Maybe, we can get to know each other more later. The short seconds of their proper introduction would pass as the test would begin soon.

His foot strikes the ground like a pistol shot in a library room.

 

[ERode]

Location: AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interactions: ThatWhichShouldBe LostHaven TheRealAngeloftheStorm RedArmyShogun
​

"Extra weight, imbalanced as it is, makes for a more interesting run," Rel-Taren replied, flashing his teeth. "And please. Keep 'Xihu'tein' out of your mouth."

Those was all the words he could spare for the pure-blooded Farbanian, for Aeoun, the unnatural champion of pure-blooded humanity, responded the challenge brilliantly. He shed his form immediately, flesh giving way to the stuff of stars. There were creatures that Rel-Taren had slain before, had hunted before, upon his home planet. Creatures of liquid substance, bound together by clusters or hives of fluid-wrapped cells, but in the face of what Aeoun was, they were naught more common than waterfowls. He, no, could such existences even have such thing as a sex to begin with? possessed an ethereal quality, one that caused the blood within the lizardman's body to tingle.

A recognizable ethereal quality. A magical quality.

And if it was magical, then...

This was simply a fact. One could say this wasn't even a race. Did the runner seek to outpace the flash of lightning? Did the warrior seek to strike down the waves of the ocean? Did the hunter seek to strike down comets? No, only fools would seek such deeds. And only the most craven sorts would seek to accomplish such when there were no stakes involved. No war to win, no family to save, no heart to claim.

Just to keep things interesting.

So Rel-Taren pursued as such, wind brushing past his scales as he gave a reasonable chase. His tail snaked around the pole, forming a foundation that allowed him to leap up the obstacle...and make the climber beneath him, a prissy, purple-eyed thing absolutely miserable from the instability that his actions introduced. His claws found deeper purchase upon the earth as he crawled beneath electric wiring, tail swinging back and forth to assist in the shimmying motion...and kicking up a veritable storm of sand into the eyes of the knife-eared woman behind him. In zero-gravity domes, of course, such accidental incidents couldn't be performed, and Rel-Taren certainly looked just a bit silly as he spun horizontally, turning his body into a drill (or a crocodile who was death-rolling his prey), but he did admirably there too.

Indeed, his pursuit could be considered admirable. Always a few steps, a handful of seconds, behind Aeoun. Close enough to threaten, far enough to watch. Stalled, at times, with the same puzzles that stalled the mana-spirit. Breezing through other segments, when it looked as if the Katasheri was on the cusp of breaking away and widening the gap.

Never blinking.

But maybe Lizardmen had two eyelids.

Never breaking sweat.

But maybe Lizardmen could not sweat.

 

[Zufaix]

Renee Aloensis
Interactions: TheRealAngeloftheStorm | Any

​

"Indeed." She responded curtly to the white haired woman's statement. It wouldn't do to make a sour impression, especially during the first course. There would be time later to exchange pleasantries. For now, the task imparted by their instructor carried more importance. Renee gave the woman a solemn nod before turning on her heels to face the obstacle before her.

Taking note of the others in her class, she surveyed their actions whilst stiridng up to the course. Seemed that rivalries were already being formed between the Katasteri from House Orion and the currently unnamed Lizardman. Something about a competition? Renee wasn't typically one to compete with others, though it was an effective method of improvement. It certainly couldn't hurt to partake in, even silently.

The first one she noticed on the course was the Cenerethian. Renee recalled her announcing herself as Cadet Kirsta. Her balance and positioning were impeccable, akin to the Violet Egrets from Silvao, no wasted movements. Flitting her vision to the next contenders were the aforementioned rivals. As Renee expected, the Katasteri's form lended an advantage to parts of the course. She'd read about their abilities before, but seeing them in action was truly a spectacle. The Lizardman on the other hand wasn't letting up ground easily. She didn't know much about their race, even from texts, but this ones tenacity was befitting of the namesake.

Renee would've preferred to get a bead on the other contenders as well, but there would be other chances she was sure. For now, it was her turn. Taking a deep breath and settling into a runner's stance, a serious expression marked her face.

No point in holding back.

Her foot sprang off the ground and began the sprint through the course.

​

 

[LazyDaze]

EKO "ECHO" GOBBS

​

STATUS: Active Duty
LOCATION: AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
INTERACTION: Brief mentions ( Steve Jobs Worthlessplebian Midrick )
MOBIUS ARMAMENTS: N/A


"It's fine this is fine...," Eko said while stretching. It was really just for show as he didn't really need to improve the flexibility of his body. "I'm still in good shape."

Eko noticed a cocked eyebrow.

"...Totally inconspicuous."

An uncanny amount of confused glances.

"The definition of stealth. The pinnacle of subtlety."

Smiles holding back waves of laughter. He was doing a decent job of fooling himself into believing he was not fool, but it was not enough. He had already begun to puddle, which is the marshaian's bodily response to stress in which it appears they are starting to melt.

"Yes..I'm a phantom waiting for the precise moment to reveal his-," Eko stopped mid sentence when he recognized one of beautiful people staring at him. There was a customary awkward pause to even make silence itself groan. Thankfully, Eko's brain was operating on autopilot long enough to recall that the beautiful woman had introduced herself. The silence went on a bit longer; he had to register that she was actually talking to the henchmen. "O-oh I'm Eko, Eko Gobbs at your service. Good luck," he said with an absolutely non creepy smile and a bow. However, that would be the extent of the conversation as she would turn her focus to the obstacle course. "She's pretty-" That is when he saw one of the many hot dudes giving him a nod. The man looked like he could be the peak of the human race and if it wasn't for the absolute chad space god cosmic being, he would probably put his money on him. "Pretty nice!" Eko amended before the young human cadet went off to converse with someone else. The interactions were brief, but it did wonders to ease Eko's nerves. The next thing to ease his nerves, this obstacle course. There was no greater obstacle than running away from criminals and police, so he couldn't help but feel as if this would be a breeze. One by one his peers took off. It wasn't difficult to notice inflating egos, determination, and....and....they were doing this all wrong. Maybe it was his criminal brain talking, but wasn't there a way to make this easier on everyone?

"I can't help but feel like this is a bit pointless...if they really wanted to test us they should have pulled out a gun full of rubber bullets and start shooting us to see how we repsond to danger. Then turn us against each other by saying one of us is a spy designed to get everyone to fail so that we stay on our toes. We would then have to learn more about each other while using other things outside of brute strength to pass. On the final test we realize that no one was the spy and it was just said to test our ability to think through tough situations. By this time you would weed out half the cast and we would all reflect on the friends we lost along the way as our instructor finally shows us his soft side....oh they are already leaving." Eko looked toward the instructor to see if he heard him but thought better of it. Rule 23 of the streets, you only have to be faster than the slowest person. It wasn't a great burst of speed to start, but as Eko jogged his legs seemed to stretch a bit and morph with each step allowing him to cover longer distances with each step almost as if he was prancing. It was nearly cartoon like how his body could contort, twist and change shape. As long as he was pretending he was running away from vicious beasts on guard duty he was certain there was no obstacle he couldn't overcome. Rather than it being a grueling obstacle course, Eko was having the time of his life and even started to sing. At one point he lept off of a platform and flattened his body while holding on to his ankles to morph into what looked like a living parachute before floating harmlessly on the ground. Although he was able to make up some ground his goal was not to place first, but to see if anyone needed assistance. This was a good opportunity to build camaraderie. "I can't help but feel like we could probably finish this faster if we all worked together."

 

[Pilgrim59]

DURTHAI NEGYV

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Training Field, AICA, Velika Prime

INTERACTION:

Judyth, Amroi, Cyra, Felix, & Saimos

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

It started with a race across the tracked path, then a few obstacles-laden areas. This was nothing too difficult, as Durthai had managed to make it past infantry school without fail. But even with her experience, she felt her heart sinking deep into the depths, especially with how the green Oni was trying to catch up with Judyth. The two of them, from the looks of it, were eager to earn the Major's good sides. Catching an earful of their brief conversation as she tried to catch up to Judyth, Durthai stumbled. Throwing her hand forward to mitigate her imminent fall, she felt a strong force pulling her back onto her feet. Quickly finding the horizon once again, a grey-haired personnel would pass her by.

"We've only started. Stay on it." The woman muttered to Durthai. It did not take long for the girl to catch their name emblazoned upon their velcro patch - C. Urliken.

Crawling through the mud, with the thick silvery waves of barbed wires spiraling above their head, Durthai tucked her lips and pressed onward. The oni that bothered her from earlier quickly passed her by, causing the girl to stop dead in her tracks. Judyth, of whom were on the same path, promptly tugged her friend's sleeves, nudging them forward.

"Come on, Durthai. We're almost there!"

"A-Aye!" Durthai replied, furrowing her brows. She would then fix her gaze upon the horizon, and crept forward with a calm mind. Judyth had somehow managed to instill within her a certain sense of confidence that she had not felt since a long time past. Aside from that, she was expected to complete this course, especially when she had a dream to realize that laid beyond this school and the long conflict with their sworn enemies.

Amroi, of whom was now in the lead, leapt across the plank with great speed, almost as if he had been leaping from rooftop to rooftop since he was young. At least, what Durthai perceived was more evident than what she could try to imagine. After all, every cadet here was unique enough for Dr. Loxley to permit clearance into AICA. What she did not expected, however, was the sudden thrust of the oni's boots against the wooden piece that broke it.

"See ya later, Farb! You belong in the back, just like your friend! Haha!" Amroi exclaimed, as he ran off towards the next part of the course.

"That annoying oni! I'll catch up to him, I swear it!" Judyth roared, as she took Durthai's hand and reeled her back from the ditch below them.

"How are we going to cross now?" Durthai asked.

The silver-haired feline that passed her by earlier would eye the ditch for some time, before sashaying off to procure some ropes from the nearby climbing obstacle. Readjusting it to her needs, she fashioned for herself a sturdy device that she would hand one of its end to Judyth. The cadet then gave it a quick thought, before nodding in agreement.

"This will do. Great thinking... um..."

"Cyra. Hold it firm, Kairnseval." The feline cadet replied, having given a quick glance of the name patches on those that were present.

"You got it!"

Durthai would help Judyth to secure one end of the rope, while Cyra leapt into the depth, and attempted to climb the steep ditch on the other side. Utilizing her momentum, Cyra took a deep breath and pulled herself into the air, performing a somersault before attempting to secure her end of the rope against a tree on the otherside of the ditch. It did not take long for two more familiar faces to show up next to Durthai. Her eyes widened at the arrival of Felix and his breathless friend Saimos.

"We'll secure this side of the rope. You two, get moving." Felix said. "Saimos, hold here 'til I find us a stake to hammer it down. Otherwise, it's a long way down."

"Couldn't have said it any better. I, Saimos rui Kel-"

"Very well. We'll reciprocate on your go." Judyth agreed with a confident smile, cutting the man off, before he could finish his sentence.

"Thank you, Felix." Durthai followed Judyth, as they took turns to inching themselves across the ditch with the rope being their makeshift bridge.

As she grabbed onto the rope, Durthai felt herself slipping, realizing that she had sprained her wrist from when she tried cover her fall from earlier. No, she thought to herself, as she found herself eyeing the bright blue sky before her, as the rope eluded her grasps. She had not taken into consideration what was behind her, as gravity did it's work. A loud thud followed, but she could still hear her comrades calling out her name. She had thought this was nothing more than something she had done before, and instead overestimated herself. She was not cut out for this. She despised herself, as the voices began to fade. It seemed that the ditch was deeper than it looks, for she could not move. Chances are, the pain would settle in right about now, she was sure of it. She felt weak and alone, having fallen from the grace of everyone's efforts to move forward. Perhaps that green oni was right. She was the burden.

"Shazbot! You're really getting on my nerves, snowball! Shazzin' Velikans, always relying on others to save them!" A voice echoed across the ditch, resuscitating the battered maiden's conscience, as she jerked forward, with her eyelashes bashing against a sentient being, whose bronze features were inches from her fair, bright cheeks. The monster had finally captured her, but this time, from the might of the rugged soil beneath them.

Code by Nano

 

[Pilgrim59]

AMROI SVARGAI

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Training Field, AICA, Velika Prime

INTERACTION:

Judyth, Snowball (Durthai)

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

Upon being given a quick rundown of their first objective, the nonchalant oni cracked a smile that sparked a few flares with the instructor. While not so much a competitive person, unless it advanced his ability to procrastinate, Amroi was nevertheless taken aback by the cadet beside him, of whom was soaking in the instructor's words with attentiveness. A model student, he scoffed to himself, but not before conceding to a proper posture as Major Pakston's eyes settled on him. It did not take long for the silver-haired girl's optics to pierce right through him. As they set off, the girl finally raised her voice.

"What's wrong, oni?"

"This is just the same routine as boot camp. Child's play. Kinda hoped that we would be jumping straight into the giant machines."

"Don't you know? The Mobius is gonna rip you to shreds if you don't maintain your physical conditioning integrity."

"Yeah right. All of you are dead weight to me. Won't matter anyways." Amroi proclaimed.

"This isn't a race, you know!"

"All of you brainwashed Farbs are the same. And I'm going to prove it."

"Not if I prove you wrong!"

As they progressed through the course, Amroi finally got tired of Kairnseval's persistant pursuit, and made his ultimatum. Crossing the narrow bridges, as he often did many times before on Sunitra, Amroi turned and smashed the last bridge - denying Judyth of her victory.

"See ya later, Farb! You belong in the back, just like your friend! Haha!" He laughed aloud, making sure to catch the look on their faces, as he indulged in his minute and petty triumph. Taking a light breath, after being worked to the bones by Judyth's perserverance, Amroi decided to move on. Brushing his green optics over his shoulder, much to his expectation, that white-haired Velikan from earlier seems to be struggling with trying to cross, though he was nearly impressed by Cyra's quick resolution. Perhaps some of them were still competent enough, he thought to himself. His eyes narrowed, as he took notice of the Velikan's diminishing posture when crossing by the ropes. It was not until a certain cry in unison by the multitude behind him that sent chills down his spine. It was not his duty to be bothered by what had happened, but he was in fact bothered when he took notice of Snowball's strained grips.

"Shazbot!" Veins popped across his forehead, as he turned his knees and chanted softly. Leaping forward, he slid into the ditch and locked the Velikan's head between his forearms and biceps. Shielding her head from the fall, the oni turned and mitigated their joint fall with his sides. Thankfully, the hard ground below was not filled with sharp objects, but he definitely felt something cracking when he chose to become someone's landing pad.

"Shazbot! You're really getting on my nerves, snowball! Shazzin' Velikans, always relying on others to save them!" He muttered, filled to the brim with annoyance until he felt ticklish by Snowball's eyelashes. It was only then did he realized how close they were to one another.

"Shazzin' Velik-" He turned away and relieved himself of the white-haired girl, but not before letting out a strained groan.

Code by Nano

 

[koala]

STATUS: ACTIVE DUTY
LOCATION: TRAINING GROUNDS ; AICA, VELIKA PRIME, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
ATTIRE: TRAINING ATTIRE, HAIR IN PONYTAIL
MENTION: AEOUN, REL-TAREN, EKO
INTERACTION: RAKH Worthlessplebian ; NIKADIM Midrick ; DURTHAI, AMROI Pilgrim59
what i’m listening to


The clay-haired man turned around, as if sensing Fionnuala staring at him like he was some type of spectacle—which wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Only a fool wouldn’t see how ruggedly handsome he was, and she found it difficult to break their eye contact even as he introduced himself and his brother. Another man who was easy on the eyes, and even easier to gawk at.

Was everyone unnecessarily pretty? Don’t tell me that was a criteria… Fionnuala thought. She had noticed the cadets around her were attractive in their own ways. There was literally a blonde god with stars in his eyes that likely told stories of his adventures. Rel-Taren, who she had no doubt was popular with his people, was charming in a way she couldn’t quite describe, and even the Marshian had a cute smile from what she saw with his humorous outburst.

“I’m sorry. I panicked and didn’t want to make a fool of myself any further.” Fionnuala chewed on her lower lip, eyes still meeting Rakh’s as a shy, nearly inaudible giggle escaped. She took the bag that was being passed around and handed it to someone who actually needed it before continuing. “Fionnuala rui Esteriel. Fion or Fi is fine. It’s a pleasure to meet you formally.”

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, their introductions were cut short by the start of the training session. There would be chances to talk again, she was sure. Maybe she would be less awkward when that moment came. Until then, she would need to focus on whatever trials threatened her position as a MOBIUS pilot.

Shooting a nod towards Rakh and Nikadim, her gaze lingering on the latter for a second longer as she marveled at his red eyes. They were much like her own when she was faced with crippling hunger, something only her kind and those similar seemed to suffer from.

Then she was off, each step elegantly calculated and swift. The wind licked her cheeks as she sped onwards, passing many of those who’d started meters ahead of her. There was a grin on her face, not from outrunning those behind her, but from the freedom she felt whenever she got to run freely. It was like she was home again, skipping through trees and bushes with the smell and sounds of nature all around her.

As reality would have it, however, she was not home. And the smells were not as pleasant nor the sounds any calming. No, all she could hear were heavy pants and moving mechanical parts. All she could smell was sweat, dirt, and pure desperation. Or was that blood?

Fionnuala smelled the faint hints of iron before she heard the yelp. Her movements came to a stop, feet digging into the soil beneath her. Ignoring those who passed her, she turned towards the ditch where there had been a bridge.

Her heart was beating so quickly she could hear it in her ears. Adrenaline was coursing in her veins as she contemplated on what to do. It would be so easy for her to continue on the course and finish in the top half of the group. It would be so easy to leave whoever fell behind, but that wasn’t her. That couldn’t be her, no matter how hard her parents tried to mold her into someone who benefited from the misfortune of others.

Fionnuala moved towards the scene behind her, feet skidding down the ditch before she found herself a few steps away from a pair of individuals. A man, who appeared to be of oni origins, and a dainty, white-haired woman.

“Are you alright?” Fionnuala asked them both, though most of her concern was directed towards the man as the smell of blood seemed to radiate from him. She helped the woman up first before seeing to the man, noting the pain in his expression as he moved. “Did something break? I’ll help you up-”

hellscythe

fion.

• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[RedArmyShogun]

SARINA R. KIRST​

~~~~
Status: Active Duty
Location: AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interaction: koala (FI) Pilgrim59 (various) (Others should they join in)
Mobius Armaments: N/A
~~~~
As the front runners cleared the first section of the course, Sarina, true to expectations made up for lost ground at a few key points, having crossed the pit without issue, she was now met with something unexpected encounter, a zero-g dome? Those were very expensive, why would they have one of those in some random obstacle course. Far too much of what she seen today made no sense or was distraction, or some other form of oddity. Either way, before she got to that, the Lizardman cut her off in his chase of the... The man that carried himself like some sort of ancient god. She wasn't sure just what in the name of the great mists and precursors, he was... A being of mist more than flesh. Still with the interruption and only a couple ahead of her, Sarina collected herself and turned back to see how the rest were doing.

The Cenerithian was struck by disappointment, immediately about what she had seen. The Ogre as he seemed to call himself has purposely sabotaged part of the course. "..." With a mute rage, she watched as he seemed to spout some insults before running off a little, turning back to watch his handy work, gloating till the girl with feline features and some others tried to make a makeshift single rope across the gap. That would not end well, but still, it was too little and too late for her to stop it all.

And true to predictions, one fell, but surprisingly the one who caused all of this was quick to take off, in an attempt to save her.... Was he mad? Now Fi and others aside were gathering to help, or going down into the hole to check on the pair. Making up her mind, Sarina would let the other fools enjoy the race, she knew she had a mission to complete, but completing a mission with half of the force held back or broken, that was a victory that no one needed short of idiots.

Walking over, Sarina was quick to stand over the ditch, that she not so long ago crossed without issue. "Are you a fucking idiot or is sabotage and injuring allies one of your hobbies?" She glared with contempt and spoke honestly to the injured man, as she shot a glare to those still up top, attempting, well, previously attempting to use the one rope bridge.

"Go get a second rope and toss it to me, I'll secure it on this side. With two ropes you can get over more easily, or go underneath, hook your legs around the strands and pull your body across upside down. Then grab the opposite landing and pull yourself up." Looking at Fi, she would allow her to handle assisting the other two out of the obstacle ditch. Once the others were across for the most part, Sarina planned to take off once more for the course. It may not be a race, but she would not be coming in last.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

RAKH XIRILENKIA

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

koala , Midrick , Pilgrim59 , RedArmyShogun

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

Swish-swosh, swish-swosh.

Rakh's legs slashed through the wind as he barreled down this course of expensive doodads and doohickeys. He is acting autonomously. In spite of the gunsight look in his eyes, the furrowed brow, and the controlled breathing, he was simply not there. The mind, hundreds of thousands light-years away. The young man's thoughts preoccupied with his arrival and the cadets alongside him. He pictured that pepper-haired noblewoman. Fionnuala rui Esteriel, Fionnuala rui Esteriel. He repeated it, rolled around his tongue like one does to a candy. Her name itself had an elegance to it. This gracefulness betokened feelings and thoughts of his homeplanet, Dazhoret. Rakh and Nikadim were from a family of lower accolades, yet the boys busied themselves in other ways before the conflict reached them. One time, Rakh caught a live performance of the Dazhoretian ballerinas—from the tiny television they had at home, rather—sourced and molded from noble blood, they were some of the best dancers in Farbania. He wondered if Fionnuala, or Fion as she'd like, is a dancer as well?

The crunching noise of mechanical components had at least reached his inner ear. A faint smell of copper or iron faintly drawing Rakh back, almost grounding him to reality. But his mind lingered just above his head like a phantasm that followed his body around. Lizardmen, gaseous space clouds, fairly certain one of them has pointed ears. He's been here for, what? 20-40 minutes? And the situation still hasn't settled within him. He's lived quite an ordinary life if he's only seeing these radicals now.

The young man's eyes settled on a wall-like obstacle in his path. Ah, his eyes visibly went. Eyes widened to see Nika, they were relatively close together. He shot a look towards his brother, then pointed with his scarred chin towards the wall. Rakh overpowered his legs to pull ahead, then slid into a stop as his back touched the wall. Fingers interlock like tiles or chainlinks. One, two, three! Nika's booted foot fell into Rakh's palms.

"Shazbot, you're heavier than ever," his jagged thoughts as he boosted his brother over the wall. Actually, when they did this before, they were both lighter... And smaller. He climbed up with the assistance of his brother. Continuing onward, the older brother was approaching the ditch when he saw that several other cadets had gathered. He overheard that pointed ear woman requesting a rope. Ah, it seems that one of the cadets got overzealous in their competition, this obviously looked like sabotage to Rakh.

It couldn't be helped. He walked lightly to yank out a rope that wasn't vital to the course's operation and aiming to toss it to the knife-ear."Catch," he called as he tossed the rope. "Come on then: leave no pilot behind." He assured them. His eyes also spotted that noble from before. Feet first into the mud to help them. Well, she is definitely the most kind-hearted noble so far, he thought.

"I wonder what Nika thinks of her."

 

[Tabbystick]

FERYL LEIOS

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

N/A

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

Loxley's speech had mostly fallen on deaf ears, as Feryl had already begun tuning out all but the most key points, despite appearing to be rapt in attention. The result of years of practice, kicking in without her even realizing.

The trip here had been entirely dull, and driven her to daydreaming to pass the time. If anything, arriving at the compound had only pushed her further into her own thoughts. However, the revelation that they'd conclude training and be out on the frontlines in a mere three months was enough to snap her back into focus.

Feryl could feel her heart begin to pound with excitement, though she knew better than to show it. Three months until she could experience action for the first time. Real combat. What would that be like? She already couldn’t wait to find out.

There were many nights where she'd dreamed herself a hero, diving fearlessly into battle against hoards of Sorentese. Just like the knights of old, which were so focal in her beloved fairytales. A faithful soldier in service of Her Imperial Majesty, Marbella Olysius Nox Ashburn Reverena Charix rui Hellriegel, whose name she'd been forced to memorize by her tutor. It was childish, certainly. But such fantasies offered a reprieve from the stifling routine of her perfectly manicured life.

Well, it was former life now, she reminded herself. Training was already beginning, so she made a brisk pace to the changing room. It wouldn’t do to make a bad impression on the instructors.

Along the way, she could spot a nobleman making a show of himself. A brazen peacock of a man, who was already giving her a much familiar headache through his mere presence. She’d hoped to have left his ilk behind, but alas. She gave a look of pity to the noble’s targets, but hastened to the lockers, lest she risk involvement with the man.

--

Perhaps her old instructor had been a gentle and softspoken man after all. Compared to the absolute stag that was Major Pakston, he certainly seemed so. How did he even receive so many scars? Feryl could feel the dread welling up inside her. A premonition that their training would be anything but pleasant, though that was already a given.

Feryl inspected the other pilots-in-training with some skepticism. Her fellow recruits were far from what she’d expected. The strange reptilian could even talk, yet she was certain one of her father’s colleagues owned such an exotic creature for a pet. That was not to mention the uncannily perfect statue of a man, boisterously announcing his presence for all to hear. How wonderful, she thought wryly, recalling the nobleman from before. There were two of them.

That was enough dallying, she supposed. It appeared they’d begin with an obstacle course. Not much different from basic, then. She’d been expecting worse, and even as she ran through the course with elven grace, she kept a keen eye out for any nasty surprises.

Code by Nano

 

[Pilgrim59]

AMROI & DURTHAI

CADETS

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Training Field, AICA, Velika Prime

INTERACTION:

RedArmyShogun koala

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

His green optics shot across his shoulders, when a sanguine cadet offered her words of concerns. The Suni took offense, not out of personal contempt of the individual, but at himself for appearing so frail before his peers. "What's it to you? Shazzin' Velikans." The more time he spent around people, the more likely it was for him to curse the Velikans, for whatever reasons. There was something about the way that he perceived people as a whole that did not sit right with him when a kind hand is offered. Everything has a price, as they often said in Sunitra, was a mantra that he took to heart, eventually forming the person that he is today - destructive and distrustful of people as a whole. It did not take long for him to furrow his brow at another individual with pointy ears.

"I don't need allies. Bunch of dead weights." Amroi retorted, backing up into a defensive stance. He then turned towards Durthai. "Snowball here shouldn't be here if she couldn't handle it." He added, folding his arms and making his position clear that he was in the right. Yet, despite his words, he could not find any words to bear, lest it stoke the woman's flames. He was in the wrong, in an attempt to win, and he would not admit it. The white-haired girl would lower her face, reflecting on Amroi's words. While she could feel his frustrations, there were certain observations said by the oni that she was inclined to agree. If anything, the oni was the most honest one, for he had seen through her weakness. She was not a soldier, Durthai repeated in her mind.

The physical course continued, at the behest of Instructor Pakston's commands. As soon as the cadets made it to the end, the Major simply gave them a light nod and told them in these nonchalant but grievous words: "Run it again."

In the end, there was no winner in the race. Only the worn out faces of young cadets, among those that were too impetuous for the cause to be demoralized, remained in the aftermath of the physical torture that was Major Pakston's repetitive course. Yet, thanks to the combined efforts of the cadets, some peculiar personnel stood out the most for the instructor when it came to coming up with solutions. Alas, even their bodies had to give. The second wind, however, was absent of two cadets following the ditch incident. Before long, the oni and the white-haired girl would find themselves both in the sick bay. The former, having been given a harsh reprimand and then some extra exercises for 'being a prickly agent of mischief amidst their tight schedule', as Major Pakston put it, finally gave into the crushing pain in his sides.

---SICK BAY, AICA---

"An infraction on the first day? You disappoint me, Amroi."

"It comes with the package, Doc."

Loxley sighed "This isn't Sunitra anymore, Amroi. You have a gift and even now I have concrete proof that you are not who you sell yourself to the world as. Especially when you came back for Negyv."

The oni remained silent when Loxley finished her sentence with a profound remark that exposed him for who he truly was. "Tsk." He would click his tongue, having failed to conjure a reason, despite his life's worth of experience with excuses.

"Snowball should call it quits while she still can. She's not a soldier. Also, don't try to stop me, I got a weapons class to attend. This ain't that bad compared to Sunitra." Amroi remarked, before getting up and turning for the door.

Loxley simply eyed the green oni off, before making her way towards Durthai, of whom was residing in the cot in the next aisle. Brushing her fair hand over the delicate creature's forehead, Loxley smiled softly as Durthai eventually came to. "You're alright, dear. Conjure yourself some respite for now."

Durthai's eyes widened, as she quickly collected her thoughts in response to the last thing she remembered. Yet, being in Dr. Loxley's presence seemed quite surreal. For someone that was quite known among the Elder Mages, Dr. Loxley was as nonchalant as any other Farbanian. "Is he going to be alright?" She asked about Amroi softly, akin to that of a toddler inquiring of the monster's fate just before bedtime. "He's already headed to the next class."

"I hope he's not hurt..." She gave a relieved sigh, despite her curved brows that expressed a certain sense of distraught and concern.

"It will take more than a ditch to bring down the Ogre." Loxley smiled. "Even when you're hurt, you're still looking out for others."

"Dr. Loxley... I-... I don't think I can do this..."

"Hush, dear. Never say those words until you've finally bled yourself dry in the endeavor. At least now, you know the ogre's true face, despite his inflammed personality."

Silence fell between them, before a certain voice outside the door called the Doctor's attention.

"Cadet Kairnseval reporting in, Doctor. Is Durthai going to be alright?"

"She'll be fine. Just needs some rest and hydration."

"That's great to hear." Judyth's eyes lit up, elated to let the heavy sentiment off her chest upon hearing Loxley's reassuring words. "May we see her?" As Judyth inquired, the preregistered personnel attached to that specifically subjected pronoun began to pop up in the background - lining up behind the pillar of the corridor and fixing their eyes on their designated spokesperson.

"Sure. Just be quick. Your next class starts in about ten minutes." Loxley conceded, allowing Judyth, Cyra, Felix, and Saimos to enter the sick bay.

Upon being reunited with those that somehow involved themselves, Durthai was most elated to see Judyth by her side. While the others were of recent nature, their presence seems to cheered Durthai up for most. And with it, she could at least forget about the uncertainty that resided within her.

Code by Nano

 

[Pilgrim59]

E. MUIRSE

AICA INSTRUCTOR

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Firing Range, AICA, Velika Prime

INTERACTION:

Soviet Panda RedArmyShogun Worthlessplebian koala Midrick LazyDaze FiveElemental Steve Jobs ThatWhichShouldBe LostHaven TheRealAngeloftheStorm ERode Valky-Nyan Zufaix Tabbystick

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

Soft ears twitching and smile persisting, the blonde instructor donned her excitement just as well as her compatriot was maintaining their stoic demeanor. Muirse studied the cadets as they made their way down to the assembly area in the outdoors firing range. Situated just north of main administrative building, the firing range kept a traditional layout, as opposed to simulation rooms installed onboard almost every command vessels in the Navy. Following their conclusion of the 'warm-up' exercises under Major Pakston, the cadets were to train with their standard-issued gears next. Between the firing stand and that of the targets in the distance, the ground was laden with blank panels and metallic tiles rather than cleared dirt and sand.
"I'm sure after that long drag of a course, many limbs are retired for the day. Though I suspect they tire of plucking their eyes at your old man's face, Scarston." She teased the man. "Anyways, I can't believe that I am hijacking your class. How exciting!"

The fluffy-eared instructor stepped forward and gave a casual salute with just her index and middle fingers before clearing her throat.

"Goooooooood morning, pale buckets!" Muirse announced, hoping to catch the attention of the sleepy ones, but not before snapping to a firm stance before the ranks of cadets. "Now that Major Pakston has warmed you up, let's see about the task of rearming you!" Elated, the instructor yanked the long, black case behind her, propping it open in one fluid motion before withdrawing a piece of polymer apparatus from it. With her index finger securing the outside of the trigger guard, she raised the weapon and presented it with as stylish pose of confidence.

"I'm sure you're all familiar with the Thuringen. The Thuri-Vee is chambered for six-point-eight by forty-three millimeter." Muirse said, turning to her right, then left, to show the ambidextrous fire-selector design. "In full-auto..." A click followed as her thumb flicked the selector upwards. "... semi..." The switch fell south. "...aaaaand safe." Both her thumb and index finger followed the motion of her wrist, bringing the weapon to safety.

"Built-in emitted-light optic mounted at the end of the handguard with a semi-enclosed ring rear-post for quick target-acquisition. Adjustable butt-stock for your comfort, textured polymer magazines..." She went on to explain it's features, before rubbing her soft, cool cheeks against the rifle as if it was her treasured plushie. Detaching her face from the upper receiver, the woman then tug back the charging handle and slapped the bolt-catch with a mischievous face.

"This bad boy can dispatch five-thousand Sorentese per minute." She claimed, all the while rubbing the weapon's frame gently, despite her aggressive act of slamming the bolt-catch earlier. "Or at least, that's what the commercial said - don't quote me on that." Muirse then pointed at the cadets.

"This, right here, is a mana-channeled selector that allows you to modify it in-combat. Just make sure you bring the appropriate accessories. Torches and grips requisitioned separately." With her hand over the peculiar bolt that stuck out from the selector, Muirse demonstrated the Thuringen V's ability to quickly snap into a short bow by channeling her mana slightly. "Six-point-eight for sustained firefights. Axium shards for low-profile engagements."

"I could go on with the deets. But you should probably see it for yourself, aye?"

Stepping away to retrieve another case, Muirse propped it open and unfurled her hands. As she did, a reticent aura surrounded her, pulling the metallic pieces from the case. As she did, the metal pieces enclosed around her very being, almost as if constructing the armor around her physique. Having donned a standard-issued legionnary armor with mana, Muirse faced the cadets. Taking with her two magazines that was chambered with rubber pellets, and a bandolier of blunt-headed axium shards, Muirse raised both her hands just above her waists.

"Construction - Training Template Two. Initialize." She muttered. As she did, the blank panels that formed the firing range's ground began to shift, sprouting walls and amalgation of different obstacles and barricades that rotated back and forth until a training building finally materialized. With Pakston's help in setting up an aerial crystal to relay the overall layout of the simulated ground, a timer also went off, prompting Muirse to leap off into the building with her Thuringen switched to semi-auto on the go.

Turning towards the cadets behind her, she broke the wooden door in with a hind-kick, spinning forward in a fluid manner with her weapons raised. As she entered the recently-constructed building, the mana crystal in the air relayed her procedures from a bird's eye view for the cadets to observe. Leaning to check her corners, the woman cleared the rooms one by one, before she came into contact with a few propped-up target. Her index fingers squeezed with speed and precise pressure, downing every target she came across, as she switched hands to demonstrate the weapon's reliability when clearing difficult corners and blindspots. With a flick of her faint surge of mana, she switched to bow mode and took out the remaining targets towards the end, where the spacious corridors gave her plenty of opportunity to demonstrate the bow's utility. Having cleared all of the targets, Muirse exited the simulated house, and took off her helmet.

The timer clicked as she did, unveiling the number: 00:00:51. A total of fifty targets were eliminated, with a seventy-six percentile of accuracy - primarily composed of center-mass and torso-oriented groupings.

"Fifty-one seconds. Guess I'm getting rusty meself. But remember, pale buckets - slow is smooth, smooth is fast." She said to the cadets with a smile, before shaking her thumb towards Pakston. "Major Pakston's record is forty-five seconds. Whoever can beat his record gets a treat from the man himself. Isn't that right, Major?" She leaned over to Pakston with a teasful smile.

"Any questions?"

Code by Nano

 

[FiveElemental]

MURIS SOLEIL

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Training Grounds, AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

Soviet Panda Pilgrim59

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

H.Y.M.N:

TBD
"Sun was the same as it had been the day I buried Maman"

Pushing out one foot over another, climbing over rope, and crawling under wires. Truly the basic of the basics, and despite it being Muris's first time, he managed to get through the obstacles with surprising profiency. While this did not rectify the fact that Muris was much more behind the rest thanks to that he was pacing out his energy, keeping his breathe steady and calm. Not speeding up nor slowing down until he reached the ditch. Apparently, a dispute between two cadets occured, and the aftermath has caused the once plank bridging the gap of this large ditch to fall into said ditch.

"Inconvenient." He reluctantly stated, carefully having his eyes scan the situation before him. As he maximizing his energy expended to distance ratio within this exercise course, this only made him much slower than the rest of the cadets, as such no one was around to get across this obvious ditch. To finish the mission given to him, he needed to get across in a concise, and well thought out manner.

However, he soon figured that the only way to get across this ditch was to simply leap across it.

He turned his body away from the ditch side, walking away at a relatively slow pace, before returning his vision on the cliff side. Double checking to made sure there were no bramble or tripping hazards that may cause his plan to go awry. Noting that nothing would get in his way, he simply began sprinting at his maximum speed, slowly gaining enough momentum that with a properly timed jump, he'd be able to clear the ditch with immense ease. It was at that moment, the morning sun shone a little too brightly behind the leaves. He felt his eyes instinctively squint, A moment was all that was needed for Muris to miss the mark, and take one too many steps.

He felt himself falling quickly, not having enough time to react. His right leg reaching the ground at an uneven angle, causing his ankle to twist and legs to crumble under gravity. Feeling pain shoot throughout his body thudding against the muddy, wet floor. Looking around with obvious signs that others fell before him.

"I failed." He concluded in a monotonous tone, quickly getting himself up, not caring for the now muddy PE clothes, as being equipment made to get dirty, he figured they'd get dirty sooner or later. Standing himself up, he figured there was no need to utilize mana to mend this injury. Pointlessly risking Mana Exhaustion and Crystalization overe a minor injury like this would be detrimental to the mission. He chose to push through the sharp pain, continuing to run without a hint of emotion on his face.

Completing the lap last. He reached Instructor Sir, and calmly waited for his instructions. Which didn't take too long.

"Understood Sir." Muris stated simply, before going through the course again, and again. The pain in his foot dulling over time, getting used to it bit by bit. He figured it was only a light sprain, and wouldn't impact his attendance for the next class.

At the end of the physical training, Muris was the least exhausted cadet. But was forced to retire to the medbay for a while to get his ankle healed up and quickly dispatched for the next class.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Firing Range, AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

Pilgrim59

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

H.Y.M.N:

TBD
Utilizing the small amount of time the Cadets' break. He took a moment to get himself to get out of his dirtied PE clothes, and a quick shower, making sure to remove the accumulated grime, and properly drying it off. Before retriving his Standardized Uniform, equiping it properly, and quietly heading for the next class at the firing range.

Standing at attention, Muris kept his attention on Instructor Muirse, as she went over what would be covered in class. She described the basics of the Thuringen-V, A weapon produced for Special Forces and Mobius Pilots rather than the Thuringen-S, being mainly utilized by ground troops. The Versitile rifle carbine had two modes, the standardized rifle chambered for six-point-eight rounds, and the other called "Bow Mode" by some, a that shoots wind-infused axium shards as projectiles. The wind magic allowing it these projectiles to fly with an unnatural silence, and speed.

The Instructors next course of action, instead of providing a brief of the mission. Presented the Cadets with a live demonstration. A breaching and elimination mission inside a shoothouse. The instructions were simple, run through a mana constructed killhouse and eliminate all dummy targets inside in a smooth, and efficient process, and Instructor Muirse provided ample demonstration in that front. Each action showing not a single moment of wasted energy or movement, even from the crow's eye view presented on screen, that much was obvious.

While Instructor mentioned that a reward would be given if any Cadet was able to complete the course, it was an extra goal that he had no reason to aim for, and provided a moment to ask questions. Murise dud have one question, and as he was instructed too. He'd follow the protocol set in the manual for questions during lesson time, and raised his hand just above his head, while keeping his elbows slack. Waiting to be called on by the Instructor.

"..." He grunted in a low tone, it seemed his presence was difficult to notice, however as the orders of the Instructors were absolute, and he will have to follow through with it, and wait patiently for him to be called, or for the lesson to begin. His hand started to feel numb, before he was called on to ask his queston.

"Instructor, are we compelled to utilize both modes of the Thuringen Mark V for the duration of this lesson?" Muris questioned the instructor in a emotionless, statement like question.

Code by Nano

 

[Valky-Nyan]

​

Vivien Messer >Status: Active Duty
>>Interactions: Pilgrim59 / Any
>>>Location: Firing Range, AICA, Velika Prime

"I am so getting chewed the fuck out." Vivien mumbled to herself as she made haste. The cadets had already made way to the shooting range, but she was late. Maybe not terribly late, but the fact of the matter was — she was behind schedule from the rest, and that irked her. She had her hail tied up into a tight bun, her uniform was clean and everything was in accordance to regulations. Except her timekeeping.

Pitter patter of footsteps grew louder and louder with Messer being the sole cause of this. Boots against concrete soon got slower and slower, and she finally stopped dead in her tracks as she made herself present in front of the fluffy-eared instructor, who seemed to be having a great time at the range already. She panted a little bit, but gave the woman a salute and spoke after swallowing some saliva, her words coming out between quick breaths that she took.

"Vivien Messer, ma'am. Reporting in!" she declared as proudly as she could, omitting the very obvious fact that she was late. But that wasn't going to deter her from an attempt at a graceful recovery, all just to save some face. She had, after all, come just as the instructor cleared out the killhouse and asked if anyone had any question. She parted her lips to speak, but chose to go against that. She side-eyed Pakston, then right back to Muirse. She specifically stared at the woman's nose bridge. On the outside, Messer looked cool, calm and collected (to some degree!), but just about anyone could easily tell that she was a mess on the inside. She arrived late, had no idea what the conversation was actually about, and just showed up at the instructor's prompt on people having any questions — and found herself there.

All these thoughts ran through her head, and she struggled to focus, the ground beneath her feet felt more unstable than ever, and this made her quite likely to be the first volun-told candidate at the range. She'd cleared killhouses before, sure. But if there were any additional instructions for this one, she'd missed them entirely. And the lack of knowledge in the moment was something that made Messer feel uneasy, more so than the embarrassment of turning up late and looking like the least competent person on the planet. Curiously, her green eyes darted around the area just shortly after. It wasn't that she couldn't look into the instructor's eyes, far from — she had no issues doing that. But she tried to, contextually at best, piece everything together in that moment. She had a LOT of catching up to do, and she intended on doing it as fast as one could.

Probably a terribly bad first impression.
Oops?
~

 

[koala]

STATUS: ACTIVE DUTY
LOCATION: FIRING RANGE ; AICA, VELIKA PRIME, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
ATTIRE: STANDARD UNIFORM, HAIR IN PONYTAIL
MENTION: PAKSTON ; MUIRSE, AMROI ; SARINA ; RAKH; MURIS
INTERACTION: VIVIEN Valky-Nyan ; ANY

Their arms instructor was a stark contrast to the stoic Major Pakston, who hadn’t so much as smiled since the cadets arrived. Openly gleeful and boisterous, Muirse was surprisingly pleasant to listen to. Her instructions and explanations were so clear and concise that even a toddler would be able to wield the Thuri-Vee.

Fionnuala took to the front as their instructor went into action. It was easy enough watching the older sweep through the killhouse like a hardened dancer performing a famous ballad. Watching was the key term here because Fionnuala wasn't confident she'd come close to the instructor's time, even if she already had two years of experience in the military. Give her a blade and she'd slice right through the targets. Give her a gun? Well... she didn't exactly pass that portion of her Legion training with flying colors. If it weren't for her skills in close quarter combat--and begrudgingly, her last name--she likely would've been shipped back home to Latenia with FAILURE painted across her forehead.

Regardless of what she lacked, she still wanted to try her best and quickly, too. The sooner they all completed their outdoor classes, the sooner she could escape the sun's beaming rays.

Fionnuala glanced up and squinted, scratching at the growing itch in her nose. A shaky breath left her mouth as she slowly inhaled and exhaled. She'd been holding in a sneeze during the entire demonstration, wary of any sounds coming from her direction potentially irritating Cadet Svargai.

Her amber eyes glanced over at the green-haired man at the thought of him, brows slightly furrowing at the memory of their poor encounter. All she, Sarina, Rakh, and others she hadn’t quite learned the names of, wanted to do was help him, yet he'd made her feel like they'd committed some type of crime. He wasn't at all like the others she'd briefly acquainted herself with, and it made her wonder how someone who "didn't need allies" would fair on the battlefield. After all, how could someone so cynical be trusted with lives besides their own?

The sanguine scratched at her arm from beneath her clean uniform, feeling the consequences of not taking her morning allergy pill. She had the half-thought of taking one earlier when she went to the medical bay following a quick shower, but that was swatted away when she heard Svargai's voice in there. Suffering from her sun was the better alternative to another bad encounter. Her allergy was mild compared to others anyway. Some people burned like logs and a crackling fire. Fionnuala only sneezed and got itchy, though sometimes the sun could make her incredibly drowsy if she already lacked proper sleep.

She felt herself yawn and cursed internally, quickly covering her mouth in hopes no one saw her tiredness. Thankfully, it seemed like everyone was paying attention to the woman who came panting into the firing range instead.

V. Messer. Fionnuala read, blinking away the haze that momentarily took over her vision. She couldn't help the sympathetic smile as she recalled the many times she was late to school as a teen. Though, those incidents were due to her twin brother's chaotic mishaps and his need to drag her along.

There was a sudden twinge of pain in her chest that she chose to ignore. Chewing on her lower lip, she forced a smile back onto her face.

"Thuri-Vee. Fifty targets." The woman whispered to Messer as someone by the name of M. Soleil asked a question. "Beat forty-five seconds and Major Pakston will reward you."

hellscythe

fion.

• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[RedArmyShogun]

SARINA R. KIRST​

~~~~
Status: Active Duty
Location: AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interaction: Pilgrim59 (various)
Mobius Armaments: N/A
~~~~

With the abrasive nature of the Oni, Sarina found herself even more crossed with the man. As she stared back at him and listened to his pronouncements. She had some final words of her own as he goes back, at least it was some small mercy that he would be forced to contend with his own work. "And what of the others when it is their time to cross, what if we need to do it again... What will you do I wonder, when a position must be held and you find yourself just a man or more short? Survival of the Fittest, is it? Ha..."

Turning her attention away from him, Sarina accepts the thrown rope by the man in this little incident, he was talking with Fi earlier, wasn't he? Rakh wasn't it? She barely remembered any of their names, chiefly as she hadn't a chance to talk with them at all. Nodding at the man in thanks, she set about using a portion of the broken board, slamming it into the ground by it's jagged edge, till she got a good enough of depth to it. She then ran both ropes around it and the anchoring spikes that kept the original obstacle from moving, with three points of connection, this end would be solid and stable. The question was on their end.

"Alright! Tie them off on your end!" The knife-ear said, grabbing both ropes she pulled and tugged on them once they were tied off on the anchoring points for those still behind the ditch. "Seems stable. Come on across, remember what I said, if you can't balance it, just cling to it from underneath and shimmy across. Two ropes are easier than one." Waiting for a couple to get the hang of it, Sarina would give a simple wave before going back to completing the course herself. It proved easy enough the first go around.

The first go around.

"Of course... There would be more." Another and another, the Major was more like a Sergeant than any office she had ever seen. Still she did as demanded, sweat pouring from he brow, pacing herself after the first run, she finished with stamina to spare. Well, she wasn't about to say the ten-minute break wasn't appreciated, in fact she spent most of it drinking water, cooling off and not talking to the rest.

And just like that they were off with Major Muirse showcasing the operations of her weapon, and giving a rather thorough drill and room clearing exercise with an impressive score. Before she could say much another woman came barreling in, panting and apologizing, which caused Sarina to stiffen, not looking at the woman for the longest bit, she kept her attention on the Major.

Don't be Sorry. Be better.

Next a rather monotone man asked a good question, as Sarina snapped her heels to attention and spoke. "Major Muirse, the Cadet wishes to know if you have the DMR version of the rifle or if there is an auxiliary shotgun I might can use? I promise an impressive score with either weapon, but not with an automatic. The Cadet also wishes to know if this weapon is to be shared among the training platoon in this exercise sir!"

 

[ERode]

Location: AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interactions: Pilgrim59
​

The first lap? Fun. The second lap? That may have been overdoing it, but at least he had seen enough of his quarry by the end of it. Regulating his breathing, Rel-Taren drew in great gulps of air through his flared-out nostrils, enjoying the sensation of oxygen flowing through his body. His gaze flickered briefly towards the other 'loser' of the race, that purple-haired Velikan who was so thoroughly sabotaged by the horned one. "Next time," the Lizardman said, his teeth bared. This was just play, after all. Plenty of opportunity to build up a string of wins and losses in this quaint academy.

Indeed, it was difficult to see if he was being encouraging, or if he was simply belittling.

Still, the next time came quickly enough. Paxton had offered up one form of competition, and now their second instructor, an excitable creature, was here to give them another form of competition. Work with the Thuringen-V, a weapon defined by versatility. Full-auto with a bow-form for stealthier operations. Fascinating, always, that they had a bow-form at all. What, truly, was the point? It felt simple enough to change only the ammunition, instead of the entire method of 'shooting' the weapon in the first place. Farbanian technology. A fine curiousity! One too, that Rel-Taren himself would rather tease about in his head, in lieu of asking their darling Major.

He had another question instead, in the long list of questions that Muirise was to field. "Right, right, and I was wondering too, Major Meres. Is there a...narrative involved with this exercise? A plot to get our spirits going?" The Lizardman rolled his shoulders back, his tail moving upwards to brush the dust off his uniform. It was a testament to the durability of the fabric that it had not torn during the obstacle course. "Or are we just playing the part of a...Wolf on a warpath?"

 

[LostHaven]

Liane D. Venhaus

A.I.C.A. | "The purpose of this exercise perplexes me."​

To say that Liane 'completed' the obstacle course would have been giving the homunculus far too much credit. Unlike the rest of the cadets, who energetically darted off, eager to demonstrate their physical prowess like it were some competition, Liane only quietly surveyed the course, before slowly walking her way through the obstacle-laden path at a leisurely pace, as if they were simply out on a walk on a quiet afternoon.

And as expected, her crawling pace meant that she was, without fail, dead last when it came to completing the more practical obstacles - and the awkward way the pale woman moved made it appear as though she had zero intention of dirtying her clothes with mud. Reactions ranged from confusion to even mild contempt at this presumably sheltered child, whose physique and outward appearance showed no signs of battle-worthiness, or even a inkling of experience. However, when it came to the more 'advanced' obstacles.

Well, the fact that she could just leisurely stroll past those was nothing short of a complete shock.

A gravity dampening field stretching over an area of the course? Given that most inhabitable planets maintained a gravitational force of approximately eight, it was no surprise that the sudden floatiness was a challenge for most. However, the homunculus is utterly unfazed as she enters what was close to zero gravity, maintaining both her contact with the ground, as well as her pace, which had become rather fast compared to some of her other classmates seemingly struggling.

Next was came a projected wall meant for the cadets to scale. A completely smooth surface with little friction nor area to grab onto. The few athletic ones were able to simply run a good length of the wall's height before vaulting it, while others struggled to even begin scaling it. And yet, when Liane approached it, she only reached her hand out to touch the wall. And, likely to most people's surprise, the wall seemed to just dissipate where her hand touched. This extended to the rest of the woman's body, as she simply walks through without resistance, leaving many baffled.

At this point, her intention was clear. No matter what was thrown in between herself and the finish line, she would maintain the same walking pace. Slow and steady wins the race, or in this case, gets her to the other side without dirtying herself unnecessarily. At least that were the case, until she reached a bridge across a large, muddy ditch, in time to watch a green-haired cadet break it into pieces. Intentionally, as far as she could tell.

The homunculus just stares at the chasm, which had already claimed more than one victim. Strange. Had she missed the point of the exercise? No, even if she had little interest in what the instructor was saying, she was not so absent that she would miss crucial details. This was not a 'competition', as far as Liane knew, and so the oni's actions were of no benefit, as far as she knew. Were they not to be future comrades-in-arms? On the battlefield, the oni's actions were little more than sabotage, and if this behavior remained consistent, he would become directly responsible for many deaths on their side. His behavior was downright destructive if translated on the battlefield, and if this were the front-lines, he would have probably been severely reprimanded by the commanding officer, and probably ostracized by his comrades.

That brought her to the next question - what to do with those already fallen into the muddy ditch? After seeing a red-haired girl offer her hand to assist with those that had fallen down below, Liane concludes that they were in no way, shape, or form her responsibility. The only instruction was to 'complete the course' after all, not to lend a hand to those that couldn't.

- - - - - - - - - -

Following the obstacle course, which had supposedly been a mere warm-up exercise, the cadets were gathered at the shooting range alongside the stoic, aged instructor and Muirse, a blonde instructor with fluffy ears and an over-enthusiastic demeanor that was not lost on the ever-expressionless Liane, though it did go unappreciated by the homunculus.

Firearm training. Liane's favored weapon had always been bladed implements, even when under torrents of gunfire. The reason was quite simple; it was not that her mastery over firearms was questionable, nor was it that the armed forces were unable to supply her with one.

"With but the press of a trigger, swathes of bodies are mowed down like fields of wheat. Isn't it sad?"

Once again, his words invade Liane's mind, clear and crisp as if he were speaking to her directly, yet his face still remains a blur, smudged and unrecognizable, as if this very important memory had been intentionally plucked right out of her head. That's right -the sole reason for her preference for a blade was simply that her maker had once expressed his disdain for them; that a firearm was too convenient and could easily make a killer out of just about anyone. This was coming from the same person that often lamented the worthlessness a person's life - that all were nilpotent and would return to such no matter how much one struggled against that fate. Contradiction, too, was part of human nature, Liane supposed. And thus she took his words to heart, no matter if they were counterintuitive to his other teachings.

The exercise itself was rather simple. Sweeping out a building, the targets representing hostiles. This was a commonplace operation in the military. Often were they given orders to clean out buildings in an identical fashion. Sometimes, not all personnel inside were combatants. And often, they were ordered to clean out anything that wasn't a soldier with the Imperial Armed Forces. The purpose of this exercise confused Liane - was this not a program to train cadets to become Mobius pilots? In that case, why would they require training to carry out this sort of operation? Was this sort of work not delegated to foot soldiers rather than mech pilots?

Liane had intended to pose this question to the instructor, until her next comment caused the homunculus to forget any queries she may have held. If any of the cadets were to clear the exercise within 45 seconds, the Major would grant them a 'reward'. Though her expression remained cold, a noticeable glint sparked in her otherwise lifeless eyes. A spark so small it was barely noticeable, yet in the empty, murky haze that was the homunculus' eyes, even the smallest twinkle was clearer than day.

With this new offer - which by all logic was likely a throwaway joke comment - on the table, Liane swallowed all her questions and moved forward with a now unwavering purpose. She didn't care about drawing attention, no care in the world for listening to any further instruction. The assignment was clear enough - sweep the simulated building within the allotted time frame and maintain an acceptable accuracy range. "There are no questions. I will begin immediately," Liane states aloud as she impatiently lays her hands on a firearm, as well as a single spare magazine of rubber ammunition, though not bothering to don the standard issue armor. She found them supremely uncomfortable.

As soon as the training simulation had finished its reset, the pale and rather frail-looking woman spurred into action. She begins with her back against the wall, directly next to the wooden door. As she begins, she turns to shoulder charge right through the doorway, firearm held tightly in hand.

BANG BANG BANG!

Three gunshots. Three targets are cleared with nearly surgical precision. Her movements were swift, practiced, each footstep placed with clear calculation and intent. If this were a real operation, each of these 'targets' would have a gun pointed at the entrance, and would probably open fire the second she moved through a doorway. However, if this were a real scenario, even the instructor would not be able to move freely the way she did, and would have had to exercise far more extreme caution, especially near doorways where there would likely be hostiles in the corner and blind spots, guns aimed straight down the entranceway.

So, as far as Liane was concerned, they were not operating under the assumption that the targets were armed with guns. If they were, there would surely be equipment that could replicate such conditions, after all. Regardless, as she approaches each room, precise gunshots pick off the targets within range even behind the narrow entrances, allowing the pale woman to sweep blind spots the moment she enters barges inside, switching to full-auto as she rounds corners, sweeping targets with such practiced efficiency and movements that belied her deceivingly fragile and pale form that gave the aura of some sort of sheltered daughter.

Finally, she rounds the final stretch of corridor, laden with the final, six targets.

Four more gunshots, four more targets fall.

And with another pull of the trigger, Liane is alerted to the fact that the magazine was, as a matter of fact, empty. Contrary to her expectations, she had miscalculated, and had fired and missed too many shots when utilizing the weapon's automatic firing mode. For a moment, it seemed as though her refusal to take any more ammo than what was deemed necessary, as well as her refusal to bring ammunition for the bow form, or to even use it would backfire severely, and end in failure to complete the course.

Until Liane, without missing even a beat, repositions the rifle in her hands, with one hand gripping tightly to the barrel, and another holding the chassis, in a manner reminiscent of 'Mordhau', demonstrating that the greatsword she had been spotted lugging earlier wasn't merely decoration. It was evident that in the split second, Liane had made the decision to engage the targets in melee. Besides, even if she did have additional ammunition, hostiles weren't simply going to politely wait for her to reload. Hence, in her mind, the decision to melee the targets was sound, and the instructors would accept her reasoning. Hopefully.

Picking up her already impressive sprinting speed, Liane closes the distance between herself and the first target and in one fluid motion, with blatant disregard for the presumably very expensive piece of equipment in her hands, she slams the stock of the weapon downward, striking the target right where the cranium would have been, sending it crashing into the ground. Then, she darts toward the final one near the exit, this time with her full body force, slams the stock in an upward-horizontal motion, shearing the target's head clean off. At the very least, even if the system wouldn't count them as 'targets shot', nobody could argue with the lethality of her attacks.

Finally, with her little stunt pulled off, Liane exits the simulation with a completion time of 44 seconds on the dot, and a seventy-two percent accuracy, largely thanks to her spray-and-prey approach to some areas of the course. Satisfied regardless with the result, Liane approaches the instructors. "I believe that was satisfactory to your stated standards. May I request that my earlier confiscated greatsword be returned to me?"

 

[Worthlessplebian]

RAKH XIRILENKIA

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Firing Range, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION/MENTIONS:

Pilgrim59 , koala , RedArmyShogun , Valky-Nyan

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

The obstacle course had been concluded. And washed, thanks to the efforts of a green-haired oni. Rakh had been alongside Fionnuala, Sarina, whose name he later found out, and others who had attempted to render supportive aid to the injured parties. He remembers, at the time, his eyes squinting in disapproval as the oni rebuked their efforts; citing how one such as he, mighty and valiant, need no compatriots alongside him, how the 'Snowball,' his selected appellation for the woman he endangered, couldn't have done it alone. He adopted a dismissive smirk across his face as he heard the loudmouth blew gusts of hot air one after another. Before he washed his hands of the whole affair and completed the course, let Drill Instructor Pakston iron out this one's notches, creases, and major malfunctions.

For their agenda next, the cadets had a weapons exercise. Headed and presented by, what Rakh presumes, Pakston's lefthand in their training. Maj. E. Muirse bubbled with excitement and freedom, a night-day contrast to Pakston's gruff, hardboiled stoicism. Her words were clear, concise, peppered with humour along the way. The auburn eyes tracked her movements, from the subtlest changes in stance to the way her hands and fingers danced up and down the Thurigen-V, or colloquially known as the Thuri-Vee per her words. Focus so honed, it threatened to bore a hole through the rifle then out the instructor's back. Her elated manner at explaining the weapon's features also went along way to forging a memorable experience. He could lose himself in her milky-smooth presentation, now this is a woman that Rakh admires. But before he could do just that, the door flicked open as booted footfalls made themselves known.

Rakh tilted his head at the newcomer. One eyebrow arching up as a thumb scratched his chin. The newly-arrived cadet presented herself to which Rakh straightened himself out again. A late attendance, but better late than never. He watched as the cadet fell in line, in truth, Rakh shared a modicum of sympathy for her. Lord knows he was late when time mattered, when every second and every minute mattered, Lord knows.

He resisted the urge to shut his eyes, instead squinting as the instructor began her mock-run of the dynamic live fire range. Past pains faded to the depths of his mind as he watched the senior at work. She moved through the killhouse like wind moves from one window in one room out another's. Coiling through then lashing the targets with a loud retort of gunfire, then flicking the Thuri-Vee into bow to pick off the final targets. Unconsciously, cadet Xirilenkia nodded with each kill as if he approved every single one. As the instructor began wrapping up her impressive display, Rakh filed out of the line to prepare for his turn. He took his time; pulling then locking the adjustable butt-stock, peering through the optic, even going so far as to squeeze the polymer magazines.

His head suddenly tracked that girl who lugged around a greatsword at the opening ceremony. Head swiveling as she made her way into the training building. He laid down the rifle to wait out his turn.

Impressive, forty-four seconds with a seventy-two percentage accuracy. He commented to himself. He wasn't intending to best that number, though he did recall the others question: A narrative, questions about the gun's alternative fire modes, even asking for a shotgun variation. Rakh rubbed his mouth against his armored hand. They were all excellent,but personal questions.

He took the rifle into his hands and marched to the door. The cadet adopted a type of low-stance, the rifle's barrel pointed down, left foot farther back than the right which had a bend at the knee. Tick, tick, tick like an old, analog clock in his mind as he waited for the kill room to reset parameters. Tick, tick, tick, the clicks getting quicker. He thumbs the Thuri-Vee's fire selector to semi. "Commencing Mission." Tickticktick, boom! He kicks the door with his heel next to the knob and proceeds to enter with the weapon raised. The mana crystal that tracked Instructor Muirse, now tracked his efforts in the ring with a quick blink.

He hadn't the speck of the instructor's grace, her dance when she tore through the targets, clearing room after room. Instead what was there had been the finesse of a machine. He enters a room, he snaps to the dummy targets. Bangbang, bangbang, bangbang. Controlled squeezing of the trigger. Good ol' one-two, a stray thought shoots past his head like the bullets he shoots out of this gun.

His sweepings were calm, controlled. Blood more akin to icewater than the usually warm sanguine. Heart pumped like an engine at rest. The inner halcyon complimented the outer acts. He pies the corner, not slowly but smoothly, before bursting with speed. Full commitment, no hesitation. Hesitate equals you're dead, hesitate equals... You're dead.

The final stretch of the course reared its head. Beneath his training helmet, Rakh's face turns frenzied. Forehead creased, his brows draw together, lips coil upwards to expose grinding teeth against each other. Eyes that were aloof, impassive now looked with fury beneath the visor. He snaps the gun into a bow, just as the instructor did and proceeded to loose bullet after bullet at the final targets, noticeably vexed.

As the final target collapsed, Rakh's blood chilled again, returning to normalcy. He emerged out of the killroom. The safety activated, he depressed the mag-release and yanked the charging handle to release the last bullet. "Rendered safe." He says aloud before placing the weapon down. A bead sweat from the corners of his clay hair dripped down onto his brow. He looked to Instructor Muirse. "A guy once told me, "straightlines are for fast cars, corners are for fast drivers." He turns around to admire his handiwork, the display reads: 00:00:50.33 with a ninety-two point five percentile of accuracy.

Despite the accomplishment, despite the satisfaction he felt, underneath he felt the fear in his heart, the twinge of pain from memories further back. His right hand couldn't stop twitching. Even as he fell back in line. Hand shaking like a washing machine with a brick in the tub. He noticed it, of course, he tried not to, but he did. He needed to take his mind off of things. That was when he noticed Fion looking just not right. "You okay?" He whispered to the woman, cold as steel as to not detract from the others. "Allergies?" That's what it seemed to him, especially since that charming, button-like nose of hers seem to be holding back a volcanic sneeze.

 

[koala]

STATUS: ACTIVE DUTY
LOCATION: FIRING RANGE ; AICA, VELIKA PRIME, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
ATTIRE: STANDARD UNIFORM, HAIR IN PONYTAIL
MENTION: LIANE ; NIKADIM
INTERACTION: RAKH Worthlessplebian ; MUIRSE Pilgrim59

While there were some naiveties to the inquiries directed towards Muirse, Fionnuala tried not to ponder too long on them. She was more focused on getting her immune system back under control so she didn’t embarrass herself for the millionth time that day; and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, that meant being one of the first to go through the training. Once complete, she could retreat to the outer edges of the range and be under the cool shade for the remainder of the time.

Taking a step forwards, she quickly froze in her place as someone else decided to take the lead. A silver-haired woman, L. Venhaus from the tag, grabbed what she deemed necessary and made way for the starting post. Fionnuala remembered her from their first class. It would’ve been difficult not to remember her. Venhaus had strolled the entire two laps of the course, making it evidently clear she wasn’t going to do anything differently the second time through. Her actions were somewhat concerning, and Fionnuala was doubtful of her skills and motivation for being there.

Venhaus’ time and movements turned out to be impressive, prompting Fionnuala to feel a bit of shame for doubting her comrade. She should’ve known they wouldn’t allow just anyone to become a pilot. Her quick judgment was a flaw in her own character that she hadn’t quite fixed yet.

Fionnuala took another step but someone else beat her to the bullets again. This time it was Rakh, whose performance the woman was actually interested in observing. Compared to Venhaus’ calculated maneuvers, Rakh was like the punches of a world renown boxer. Quick, strong, clean, and purposeful. She found herself absorbed in the scene like a child before a television. Her eyes flicked from target to target, watching as they were bulldozed by his shots. Each clink and clank sent cold touches down her spine, the hairs on her arms and neck rising to the occasion even after he came to a closed finish.

He looks… Fionnuala’s thoughts drifted, noting the way his demeanor had changed the longer he was shooting. It was difficult to tell since the aerial crystal wasn’t zoned in that much, but he seemed to have gone from a cool calmness she was familiar with to something that almost looked… pained. As if he were visualizing the targets as his demons. Whatever his demons may be.

Fionnuala hadn’t realized she’d been moving from left to right foot until Rakh returned, his still posture a noticeable contrast to her fidgeting state. She stopped bouncing and stole a glance at the man’s face which seemingly returned to normal. Or at least, what she deemed was normal with him.

She opened her mouth to compliment his work but had to quickly glance away to rub at her nose. It was probably red from how much she’d touched it within the last five minutes.

“Are you okay? Allergies?”

His voice was quiet but it reverberated deeply in Fionnuala’s sensitive ears. She could’ve sworn she heard masqueraded warmth intertwined within each word, even if his tone was contradictingly icy. It was as though he didn't want others to know he was capable of caring, or maybe she was reading into things like she often tended to do.

"Hm? Oh-" Fionnuala smiled sheepishly with a slight nod. "Yeah… The sun is very strong today. Normally, I don't react this badly." She paused for a moment to let him process her words, wondering if he knew she was a sanguine. A human with a sun allergy was incredibly rare; he may think she was odd. Well, she was odd but...

"I'm sanguine." She showed off her small fangs while doing gentle chomping motions. "No bite history. I'm sorry if that seems random. I feel like I have to explain that to every human I meet."

The loud alert of another simulation starting tore her attention away. She glanced towards the range, brows furrowing as she realized she once again missed her opportunity to go. A long sigh escaped her rosy lips as she subconsciously stepped into Rakh's shadow, using his height to her unknowing advantage. She probably would've never realized she'd been using him as an umbrella too if it weren't for his trembling hand in her peripherals.

"Are your sugar levels low?" Fionnuala asked, digging into her chest pocket for a piece of candy. She placed the neatly wrapped, pink ball she found in one of the campus foyer’s into the man's palm, holding his hand for a second too long. "Here. I always try to carry candy around for situations like this. You never know when you'll need something sweet, right?"

When it was finally her turn and her quiet conversation with Rakh was forced to an end, she carefully approached the case and let the metallic pieces mold around her. The Legionnaire armor was too familiar and too formfitting for such a warm day. Part of her was wondering if she should've opted out of wearing it like some other cadets had. There was no going back, however, as she inserted a magazine and attached the spare to her bodice.

The timer began as soon as she stepped through the door, her stance low and eyes down the optic. One by one the targets fell, each flick quick yet smooth. Her experience as a dancer gave her an advantage in stealth, saving steps and movements where they weren't needed to shave off some time. She felt herself moving more quickly, wanting to reach the end as soon as possible because that spidery sneeze was crawling out her nose.

There was a click but no bullets came out. Fion cursed, having counted every shot so she knew it must've been a jam. She gave the Thuringen a quick tap before switching magazines in less than three seconds. That definitely added to her time, but she didn't care. What could Pakston even give her if she beat his record anyway? All that mattered was that she took down all the targets.

More targets went down, but as luck would have it, it was the last target who got to experience the outcome of her allergies. Fionnuala let out a sound of dismay before she inhaled and exhaled, stopping completely in her tracks.

"Oh no..." She sneezed, her body flying a couple inches off the ground as a strong gust of wind tore through the simulation. The final target flew to the floor, but so did a few other obstacles that had been placed throughout the room.

Her cheeks burned hotter than the volcanic depths of Mt. Suboia back home. It took all her willpower to remove her helmet as she approached the crowd, wondering how much of a fool she must've looked from an aerial point of view.

"I'm sorry..." Fionnuala murmured to Muirse. A short, awkward laugh left her. "I've been holding that in all day. Sometimes my sneezes have aureum of their own. Ahaha…"

She forced herself to look at the display. A hollow 00:00:62.48 seconds with an accuracy of 89.3% looked back at her. She chewed on her lower lip as she found her spot besides Rakh again. A part of her was wondering if she should’ve utilized some of her magic to boost her speed, but she didn’t want to feel like she was cheating.

"You don't look like the type to say anything, but in case you are, please don't. I would like to not exist right now." Fionnuala tried to hide her face with her palms, though she knew her ears were about as red as her cheeks.

hellscythe

fion.

• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Pilgrim59]

E. MUIRSE

AICA INSTRUCTOR

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Firing Range, AICA, Velika Prime

INTERACTION:

-

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

As the homunculus returned from their swift run, Muirse raised her brows in disbelief. "Straza! She's pretty good, wouldn't you say, Major?" She turned towards Pakston once again with an excited look. "By the Stars, a job well done, cadet!" She nodded with approval. "As for your personal effects, we'll see about returning it at the end of the day when we retire from the field, aye?" She reasoned. Soviet Panda LostHaven

Following their run, another followed, though barely breaking her own record, they managed to display some profound marksmanship with acute acquisition and precision. She chuckled lightly at his remark. "Well, they clearly sounds like a professional. Bonnie work with those groupings!"

The corner of the fair Major's lips puckered up, accumulating air as her cheeks inflated. No longer able to suppress her laughter, Muirse drew a deep breath and finally let out a maniacal laughter befitting of a demon lord. Clearing her tears away, she donned her semi-serious facade once again. "I'm sorry, my dear, but that was..." The instructor took a quick second to catch her breath. "...spectacular! Ahaha!" She let the rest of her laughter be contained as she circled back to procure a shemagh to cover the sanguina from the sun's tormenting gaze. "Make proper to requisite some Puritea from the sick bay after class, you ken?" She said, rubbing Fion's head slightly, before turning towards the Xirilenkia brother beside her. "Hm. Why don't you watch over this one for the time being, cadet?" Worthlessplebian koala

It did not take long for some questions, among other comments to float past the rank of cadets. The first and foremost was a certain personnel with a lifeless visage, despite their suppressed enthusiasm to usher forth a question. "It is not mandatory, no. You may utilize the Thuri-Vee however you wish." She responded, before catching a certain cadet strolling in to report their tardiness. FiveElemental

Her pupils slowly drifted towards Pakston, whose unspoken retort was primed and ready to fire. "Well I'm glad you could join us just in time. Make sure to keep time by your side, ya ken? Fall in."
Valky-Nyan

"Well, we certainly have enough to go around my dear." The instructor replied to Sarina, rolling out a rack full of Thuringens, all chambered for exercise-friendly munitions and spare magazines in each bandolier. "Pertaining to the modification of the Thuringen,..." She emphasized, before unpacking another case with various kits to modify the Thuringen to suit the cadet's request. The various working parts and accessories were all spread out, with one sizeable manual in between the sea of seated equipment. "You certainly can!..." She smiled, clasping her hands together in an accommodating manner. "...if you could fashion your set-up quick enough." The Major said, as the timer already started to count.

"The manual is about two-hundred pages long. So I'd get started if I were you." She declared the impossible, despite her nonchalant smile, filled with underlining mischievousness.
RedArmyShogun

She then turn back at the cadet that requested for a designated marksman rifle or shotgun variant of the Thuringen-V, as the timer had already ran past twenty-seconds. "You're gonna have a late headstart, dearie."

Code by Nano

 

[Worthlessplebian]

RAKH XIRILENKIA

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

Firing Range, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION/MENTIONS:

koala Pilgrim59 and Midrick

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A


The man rubbed away the few beads of sweat that pecked at his temples. The arrhythmic drum of his heart condensing to stillness by the virtue of his mind turning towards another's problem. The older Xirilenkia was always like this; it was easier for him to worry about others than himself. He all but admitted it to Nikadim one time when the older sibling was at his lowest point. Now the same tactic, like a sedentary general, was used here. He hopes Fionnuala doesn't mind the concerned interest.

The noblewoman's words certainly left an interesting impression on Rakh. At first, he did not assume much. Photosensitivity, while rare as a condition, is not unheard of. He hadn't reason to suspect anything more. But due to the nature of these things, he presumes, there had to have been a deeper layer to Ms. rui Esteriel's words. Howe'er, due to pervasive ignorance on the demographic constitution of the Farbania Empire, a fault wholly his own, he did not fathom that the girl beside him could've been a sanguine. She confessed to it shortly after, even going so far as to display tiny, skin-pricking fangs of hers. He nodded in acknowledgement of her lineage. Her 'uniqueness' did remind him of the classical tales of vampirs from Dazhoret's folk culture.

His keen eyes even spotted her using his shadow as shade against the sun's pointed glare. In truth, he knew about the existence of the sanguine, but like a man knows the existence of gossip or rumours. Only through words and never on paper. Nevertheless, he would have reading to do once they've been assigned their quarters. The inner grief began to dissipate from his body, his face loosening, as the mind beat back the memories into their hole with a metal rod.

Then she mentioned his blood-sugar levels and the memories clawed their way out of the hole. She had noticed his trembling hand, he thought. But in an unexpected turn, she dug out a piece of candy from her breast-pocket and firmly, securely, settled it into his palm. His fingers collapsed onto the small treat. Pinching it between his pads like the claw on an arcade game. The candy's plastic wrapper creased, wrinkled, and chafed under his fingers as he rolled it. "Thanks." He replied, still inspecting the candy she had given him, but with new, unburdened softness to the voice. "It's... hehe" He stifled a dry chuckle at how... Just how silly he was being, from how he felt. "It's not the glucose, nothing too serious, but... ah, thanks again." His thoughts wandered, perhaps he'll explain it to her. Or Nika would likely spell the beans on that.

Then just as their brief conference came, it went by as she took her turn at the course. He watched her walk away while hiding the candy behind his back, nestled in the safety of his palm.

The Legionnaire armour fit her like a glove, but he could tell she wasn't looking forward to it. Or perhaps she is, he can only assume her intents and thoughts. And then she was off! Rakh's eyes never once tore themselves off the mana crystal's display. Her footwork alone cemented her as a consummate soldier. She danced through them with exceeding precision and lethality, lending further credence to Rakh's earlier presumption about her being a dancer. She stabbed through them, she was the spear, the arrow, and the blade's edge. He was so absorbed by the display that when the final target came into view, Rakh was shocked like someone just tased him in the spine and delivered a thousand or so volts. Now he really couldn't help it, but a pinched, saccharine smile stretched stealthily across his face. He coughed into his freehand to banish the mischievous smile, but her deadly sneeze did remind him of that one time, he got Jean to sneeze in her sleep as a tiny prank. A fonder memory from a different time.

Embarrassment had been strewn through her words when she spoke to him again. The only reply from him was a pat on her right shoulder as if he was tried to soothe her worries and raw feelings of awkwardness.

He wishes he could say the Major's reaction was unexpected, but everyone practically knew how the bubbly instructor would react.

The Major then deemed it fit to have Rakh watch over her. Very well, he thought. "Yes, ma'am." He gave the commissioned officer a salute as if he were receiving an order.

He was making friends, Nika would be sooo proud, he thought about all the ways his little brother would tease him over this. Actually getting him to bite his cheek for a quick moment.

 

[ThatWhichShouldBe]

AEOUN

CADET

STATUS:

Active Duty

LOCATION:

AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM

INTERACTION:

ANY

MOBIUS ARMAMENTS:

N/A

Aeoun takes 'human' form once again, his star-fluid body putting itself back together and sculpting false muscle and sinew from raw potential. He watches as the professor demonstrates the use of the weapon with an impressed eye. On Urania, they had wielded bronze and iron against their foes, but the weapons of the stars belched fire and lead. It had been one of the things that wowed the elders and great nobles of his home, when the men in steel ships had landed from lands beyond the void. It had won them his people's allegiance. That they too might wield such weapons, and such power, in their own hands.

The warrior-noble watches the others each try their own gun, before Aeoun takes on in hand. Its frame is unfamiliar, but the intent of its construction is not. Like archery, the aim is simple. Killing end towards the enemy. Fire. Simple, right? Aeoun fiddles with it for a while, setting it to single shot, before heading to the range, taking aim... And pulling the trigger.

His first shot clips a target, which was a fine showing for a first-timer. The only problem is the recoil. It knocks Aeoun back, sending him stumbling. Frankly, he'd probably have dislocated something if his body was more fluid than flesh. But Aeoun is a determined sort, so he tries again. And again. Each time, he stumbles a little less, and his shots alternate between being fairly clean, and going wide. The heft of an assault rifle was far greater than any sling or bow he'd ever used, and Aeoun didn't dare turn on the full-auta setting.

He eventually completes the course with a time way longer than pretty much anyone else.

Code by Nano

 

[RedArmyShogun]

SARINA R. KIRST​

~~~~
Status: Active Duty
Location: AICA, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interaction: Pilgrim59 (various)
Mobius Armaments: N/A
~~~~

As the questions were answered one by one, Sarina found herself in an unfortunate situation. Her request would be granted, but only if she could make use of the jumbled mass of equipment and read what she needed of the manual. And of course, her timer was starting now. Her ears funnily enough seemed to drop at this turn of fortune. She placed well with shotgun and sniper rifle, she was not so good with standard rifleman weaponry. Still, this rifle was versatile, if it were not for the timer, she would have been more than happy to read through the manual, then to select her parts. In such close quarters a shotgun attachment would be best, but to breakdown and retool the standard rifle for such would be difficult, not too mention time consuming.

Then there was her familiarity with sniper type weapons and optics, while that would be a good and likely easy conversion, it was not best suited for cqc, not to mention setting a barrel up and ranging it would mean precious shots, placed in an over glorified box would put the weapon at a disadvantage. There was no good answer here and the instructor forcing her timer to run before she was even ready only added fuel to the fire.

The Major then had the nerve to goad her, as Sarina flipped to the index, then the remaining diagram, and took twenty seconds in all to select a holo scope and a breacher shotgun lower, slapping them together off of a squad support weapon, she doesn't bother to say a single word to the major, once she could slap in a few rubber pellet shells to the underslung breacher shotgun, and a magazine into the Thuringen-V, the Cenerithian grabs a few shotgun shells and a spare magazine, foregoing the armor as well, with her run already being under crunch time, she walks up to the door for her own run and immediately.

With a hefty crash of her boot she immediately steps in for three targets as a single pull of the shotgun scatters the hall, booming out as two were liberally peppered, and a rifle shot was placed into the third, missing, she was already correcting fire and shooting a 2nd one no sooner than the first had ringed over. Making use of her natural talents, even if they were gifts of the precursors, already moving and racking back the pump to slap in a fresh shell. Sarina took up a tactical walk, accounting for the spread of the shotgun and her sense of perception, she seemed to operate like a radar fire control guided gun, marking and processing each shot, each target, reach room and her own position relatively within the room.

The mana crystal hot on her tail, Sarina seemed to visualize all the targets before opening fire, though so quickly done that it was outside of human norms. The mighty BOOM of the shotgun attachment could be heard as in many cases it shredded multiple targets in the room to room clearing, with a double tap in semi-auto mod to those targets which could not be grouped up. In effect this running frenzy and single shots being used to take out two to three targets at a time, or Sarina diving into rooms and lining up a target on a lower elevation with one on a higher allowed her to partially break the accuracy calculator, scoring positive ratios of up to 112%, even when accounting for the couple of misses she made, or allowed the double tapping to work. With machine precession and the weight of her people and legacy of her father, the Cenerithian kept up a fast pace, to make up for the time lost. Every shot fired from that point on was a hit, with every shell fired from the shotgun, the loose assortment of shells in her left hand were already being pushed into the tube one by one, to keep the gun topped off. Each room was visualized, each target tracked and each step purposeful in its execution. Nothing was wasted.

By default, her final accuracy score was marked as a 99% and her completion time was 59 seconds. Slower than the time of either Major at face value, but that also accounted for her 20 second handicap, so she was satisfied. She even had a few rounds left in the second magazine, though she was totally out of shells for the Shotgun. Curiously she seemed even more worn out from this performance than from the earlier fitness training, slumping against the wall that marked the exit of the cube, she seemed to be panting a bit. Catching herself and forcing her breathing to slow, she put the weapon back on the table, after ejecting the last loaded cartridge and removing the 2nd magazine from the gun.

As far as she was concerned, she had more than did her duty, and maybe the next time they would actually let her set her weapon up properly. Now she took the time to actually lean against a wall and to wipe the sweat from her brow. She also had put her money where her mouth was in regard to her previous claims to the Major.

Who's up next? How were the rest while I was readying my weapon?