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Futuristic Iron Batallion <OPEN>

OOC
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Characters
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Other
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OnyxReaper

Mind Over Metal, Metal Over Flesh

Iron Battalion

Our story simply begins in an international academy for students aiming to learn and to pilot the 'Knights' which are no more than mecha built of the original designs of the British, harnessing Divinity to power and mobilize them. It's been a century since the occurrence of the grandiose war that rebuilt our entire world. Knights are now used for sports and other entertainment by the populace. Our military still exists, Valkyria being the most heavily militarized nation, then Shinigami Terra, lastly New Gaea, which has little more than militia. Students from every faction can attend and do attend this academy.

Rules
- All RPNation Rules naturally apply.
- No Bunnying, or controlling other characters.
- Player Characters WILL be students at I.U.K.A, however, I will be looking for mods to run NPC's depending on how Iron Batallion grows.
- I expect around 1-2 posts a day, if you're waiting on someone else to respond and they are inactive, that's alright.
- If you'll be inactive for a while, I ask that you notify me so I know you won't be around for a while.
- To ensure that the character section doesn't get flooded and that users don't get too weighed down and can't post from how many characters they have to run, players can have a maximum of three characters.
- I and any moderators I decide to have will have the last, final word on any arguments that may arise, to ensure that arguments and feuds do not carry on unecesarily.



Please note that the 'Academy' arc will not last forever and that this story shall in fact progress.

If you're looking for any information on the world, it's characters or it's technology, although very WIP, head over to the Ironpedia (The Other tab)
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The journey has been a long one. Well, not for you. No matter where this glorified freighter of a train picked you up, whether you're from New Gaea, Valkyria or Shinigami Terra, it's been no longer than the time it took for you to board the train, stow away your luggage, slide into a cryotube, and watch the mist form, hear the crackle and feel the cold fill your lungs. In the next moment, a hiss, and a whir of gears and pistons as the cryotube's lid pulls to one side, icy mist sprawling across the steel floor like fog. Another whir, the heavy mechanical door to your personal compartment slid open to reveal the rather dimly-lit corridor, lit so little for the sakes of the new students. Strenous activity and high-light levels are extremely dazing and sickening a few minutes after waking up from cryo, this period only extending the longer the user has been in cryostasis. The recovery period wouldn't take very long in your case, you've only spent a week in cryostasis if you're from Valkyria, and no more than a day if you come from Shinigami Terra.
You grab your luggage and personal belongings (if you have any) and get moving, a few shafts of light peak through shuttered windows, illuminating and reflecting off the icy fog that now stretches out into and swallows the corridor. You feel the train shift, descending down a track as the sharp sunbeams peaking through the shutters vanish. This time a a screeching sound, like metal grinding against metal. The train shakes, shudders and comes to a quick stop, those with good footing stand steady, those who weren't anticipating the stop stumble, and those with bad footing are thrown forwards, or otherwise left flat on their ass.
The doors between each cariage screeched open and the side doors pulled apart to reveal an underground platform, a mass of concrete and steel. Ahead were a number of uniform-clad men and women, though some had different twists, some swapped out the ordinary sand-blasted beige coloured tops and overcoats for armored vests and bomber jackets etc.
There was even someone who was in a rather dashing three-piece suit. Completely out of place. Yet also completely stylish. He quickly wandered off up a flight of concrete stairs after peering over the new arrivals through the tinted lenses of his glasses for no more than a few moments.
The first of the students was ushered forth by a middle-aged looking, uniform clad gentlemen. The student stood before a metal detector, a conveyor belt on one side. The older gentlemen looked to another, more fresh-faced man behind the conveyor belt peering at a screen, after the two shared a nod, he ushered the student through the metal detector. Nothing. The young student seemed to merely nod as well, before being led off to the same flight of stairs the suited man had previously ascended.
A dozen or so of these metal detectors line the underground train platform, with no less than three dozen staff manning and guarding the area, some carrying sidearms and wearing ballistic vests.
You're next in line, the person ahead is ushered through and led away. Now you've been called forth.
 
Konstantine
The boy gingerly pulled himself from the pod, doing his very best not to hurl. He was the absolute worst when it came to cryogenic freezing, almost always getting sick. Slowly, he pulled himself to the doorway, picking his footstep carefully as to not fall over as the world spun very quickly around him. Had he not been clinging to the wall for dear life, he would have likely fallen and been unable to regain his footing.

Somehow, after a minute of attempting to gather himself, he managed to sling his military duffel over his shoulder. Heavy as it was, he managed to walk somewhat steadily down the corridor as his bare feet quietly slapped against the floor. They were engulfed by his baggy jeans that drug along the floor, leaving only his toes visible. He looked extremely disheveled, his hair an unkempt mess and his long sleeve shirt wrinkled and oversized, terminating two inches past his fingertips.

He found himself pretty close to the front of the line. Close enough that the world around him was still swirling as he reached the detectors. He settled his bag onto the conveyor before clumsily removing the belt around his waist and throwing it on. Two steps later, he grasped the conveyor's sides as he steadied himself once more. Returning the belt to its place, his pants almost falling off, he slung the large sack full of clothes, books, a few pairs of shoes, and other odds and ends. Once steady, he began the task of making his way up the stairs.
 
Lee-Vicker

The young man pulled himself free from the confined spaces of the cryostasis unit gasping, though seemingly far from being out of breath. Perhaps this reaction was normal for a cryogenic dive? No matter, he thought. Whether it was or was not, the journey was over, and he wasn’t here to breath in all the air and be done with life. There was a bit more effort he had to put in until he could finally pilot his own Knight.

Winston brought a hand to his forehead, wiping away a degree of moisture that had built up just above his brow. He couldn’t tell if it was a cold sweat or condensation caused by the pod. It wouldn’t be anything to worry about at this point, anyway. He - after acquiring his personal luggage - marched towards the doorway his fellow trainees were commuting under through the laziness of what felt like a regression of his body’s muscles. Simply a trick of the mind, or so he hoped.

Throughout this little journey, he trusted the wall with his life just like many others, until he finally made up part of the line leading towards the metal detectors. Winston was just glad he only had a simple attire on of a shirt and tracksuit bottoms with minimal metal to show off. He didn’t want to make a song and dance out of it, and he needed to sit down as soon as possible before he collapsed a succumbed to a needless sleep. He conducted the procedure just like everyone else, and in a mere minute or more he was already back on track, crawling up the stairs occasionally on all fours.
 


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The chill of ice felt like it burned Oda's flesh as the freezing casket slid open, icy vapors pouring like an endless haze across the ground. It felt like he'd been asleep for a few seconds, not an entire day.

The young boy pulled himself from the freezing cold casket, picking up his discarded jacket, buttoned shirt and jeans. After taking a few brief moments to dress himself, he ran four rough fingers through his now frosted hair. A slight veil of icy mist rolled across his collar and down to the floor, joining with the rest of the mist. He blinked once, a second time and then again as his eyes strained to adjust to the dim light. He kept his eyes narrowed as he left his room and started strolling down the corridor, legs bent a slight amount as the train jumped and swayed a little.

Oda kept his head low, eyes to the ground to avoid the shafts of sunlight that peeked through the shutters. Even now his head stung and ached like he'd been awake for far two long.

The train came to a violent, lurching stop. Oda did not. The young boy stumbled forwards and crashed rather awkwardly into a fellow student infront of him, the two went tumbling and Oda pulled himself away once he managed to get a firm grip on the steel floor. With a swift apology (perhaps a little too swift) he stumbled again as he regained his footing; covering his eyes as he peered around one of the open bulkhead doors that led out of the train and onto the platform. The boy staggered a little as he stepped onto the underground platform, blinking rapidly for a good few seconds until his eyes finally adjusted a little better to the light. It still stung like hell, just not quite as bad. It took him a good few moments to process the sight of so many armed guards, personnel and students. He made his way into a line and watched on as students went ahead, the line shortening ever so slightly as someone passed on through the metal detectors and up a flight of concrete stairs at the back of the platform floor.

It soon came Oda's turn, the boy pulled a swiss army knife from his back jean pocket and placed it on the conveyor, as well as his luggage, which mainly just contained clothes that were suitable for the weather and excercise, as well as a single, slightly-ill fitting black waistcoat, with a white shirt and black suitpants to match.

He was let through with all of his luggage, the knife included. Firearms and explosives would probably be too far, but it was little more than a rather antiquated multi-tool. The boy quickly shuffled along towards the stairs, his gaze falling on every armed guard as he walked. The guns made him feel uncomfortable. Even moreso when he though about why I.U.K.A deemed it necessary to have so many armed guards and staff.

 
Edenaya lie in her icey pod, the chilled air causing her to shiver as the dense mist culminating within rolled over the edges and down to the floor. A low hanging fog covered the floor in frosty air as she pulled herself free. Eden's loose shirt clung to the bed of the pod where it was frozen stuck, and ripped free as she sat up with a sticky sound like velcro. She took a shuddering breath as her feet touched the floor where they stuck for several seconds. As she peeled her feet free and slipped them into her slippers the door of her campartment opened revealing her brother's tanned and toned form, shirt in hand and two bags slung over his houlders with two more rolling bags to either side of him.

"How was cryo." He asked her in a light and smooth voice. Her reply was swift but her voice cracked from disuse. "Fine." She said plainly. She donned the jacket on the hook next to her as she spoke. Dagaron smirked and shrugged lazily. "Are you excited, Eden?" He asked after a moment, casually stepping through the doorway to let people pass him. Even though they were some of the last up, there were other stragglers farther down in their train car. Edenaya shrugged at her brother as she grabbed the only bag he would let her carry, and the only one stored in her compartment. "Oh, come on Eden. Lighten up. This is a great opportunity." Dagaron said as he poked her cheek. "Smile!" He added. Eden, unnamused, rolled her eyes and pushed past him, patting his head.

Eden lead the way, or rather followed the crowd ahead of them. They were far back at the ends of the lines, but with as many lines as there were they were closing in quickly. It wasn't more than fifteen minutes before they were through and trudging up the stairs, uncertain of where exactly they needed to go, but following the students in front of them like ants.
 
<<Although I have been waiting on a user before progressing, an advancement post will be going up tomorrow evening>>
 

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T
he sunlight strikes like a hammer on the eyes as proper sunlight pours forth as you ascend upwards on the rough concrete stairway. You finally make your way onto the sandblasted paving slabs in the open air. Barracks, armories and garages rise up from the sands around you, marble, steel and concrete walls holding a dark, dull contrast the streaks of golden sand that nestle into the cracks between the slabs to form a large, enclosed courtyard.

Ahead of you stands an old looking gentleman, grey hair neatly slicked back as he stands up straight, well-pressed beige uniform adorned with gleaming medals and badges. An air of authority permeates the air and hangs around the man. Perhaps further instilled by the two armed men that flank him, pistols and batons hanging lazily from their belts. The armed guards by the man's side don't look aggressive, their stance is as slack as they can allow themselves around a clearly superior officer.
After a short nod from the grey-haired man, the two guards at his side advance a few feet forwards, standing still in unison as the older gentleman points to the soldier on your right before speaking. "I ask that all of you behave yourselves whilst on this academy's grounds, any infighting and personal disputes are to be settled properly, and any breaking of this academies rules will incur punishment." The man takes a deep, weighty breath "All that being said, I am Colonel Grisha Poten, you are to refer to me as Master Instructor Poten." Poten's eyes shift to follow his pointed finger "This man on my right is Instructor Siyk Ma'kail". The dark-skinned soldier grunts, then nods in acknowledgement of Poten's words. "David, Solomon. Kontratenko, Konstantine. Lee-Vicker, Winston. Reikter, Ellie. Venict, Dagaron. Venict, Edenaya. Oda Yang...". The man's voice carries on, listing off a dozen or so other names as he holds himself stoic and proud, reading off of a PDA that he pulled from his waist. "You'll be in my group, as Colonel Poten said previously, I am Instructor Siyk Ma'Kail, you can simply call me Mister Siyk if you like." Instructor Siyk waves you, along with a number of other students towards him "Get in line, double-file, then follow me".

 

Ellie Reikter
A brown haired girl wearing a yellow tracksuit. On the short side.
---

The afternoon before, she imagined putting a knife to his throat. Is it better to prepare duct tape or will he be too afraid to move? She will begin by telling him about the explosion, then about father. But before that, she needs to know why it all happened. Ellie sat next to the cryotube listening to the train's engine and planned how she will find him.

A series of heavy knocks against the plastic door woke her up. She jumped from the floor and gathered her things. The attendant outside didn't look all that happy about her oversleeping a cryotube ride. There was a hint of judgment in his voice, the kind you can sometimes feel from flight attendants towards someone who is afraid of flying. Except this was a train.

"I just don't like cryotubes, that's all!" - Ellie hissed as she hurriedly dragged a large suitcase through the corridor.

She excused herself when she caught up with the rest of the students. While the instructor was still talking she tapped onto another student's shoulder and whispered.

"Hey, aren't there a little too many soldiers here? For an academy I mean." - She did not get a response. When the speech was over she tapped the student again - "Umm, hey?"

@ anyone's shoulder
 
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