[Harvard Boston, USA Lucien Lothringen, Defender of the Light and Seina, The Pontiff of Order] [color=b22222] “Gross. Damn these bastards are ugly,” [/color] Lucien said with a smirk as he dove headfirst into a few trying to grave a group of people. Though with a smirk on his face, his voice shifting as if from it’s normal playfulness to something that genuinely seemed a bit disgusted. [color=b22222][b]“Child.”[/b] [/color] [color=b22222] “Shuddup.” [/color] Having just arrived, Lucien had been separated from his group like a kid lost on a field trip. Except instead of to the Museum or something, Lucien was to kill monsters attacking people for what he believed to be a calling of sorts. Okay, maybe it wasn’t like getting lost at a field trip. Perhaps it was more like a man getting detached from his squadmates during a battle. The opponents which Lucien currently fought were enough to make any normal human, assuming they could move within Lucien’s stopped time, quiver at the very sight. Their movements alien, their appearance a coagulation of various entities and normally understood constructs thrown together in a means so different from expectations of normalcy it becomes something only out of nightmares. Eldritch monstrosities which Lucien killed on the daily basis. At first, he couldn’t say he wasn’t afraid of these creatures. They take the form of what Lucien tended to fear in the past after all; the unknown. Or perhaps it would have been more apt to state that when he had first seen an opposing Crimson Denizen, but during that time his entire existence was that of a broken man who understood very little of the world besides his work as a mercenary. Perhaps that is why Seina found the boy interesting enough to form a contract. To fight without end until his body was battered and his soul unsalvageable. Until his death, Lucien vowed to fight in the name of his Crimson Lord to his last breath. Maybe before he was simply looking for a way to die, but now after experiencing what he has experienced, Lucien definitely has grown attached to his occupation. Denizen were powerful existences of another plane, and to Lucien things that shouldn’t have the capacity to coexist with humans within the slightest. Not that Lucien held too great an opinion over humanity itself, but it wasn’t exactly like he believed one race should die so another could thrive, Denizen acting vampiric in nature. So it wasn’t exactly Lucien was without a cause anymore. To protect those he can protect was good enough to him. To ensure that as long as people aren’t removed artificially from the world tree. That being said, these monsters were still nasty. From a very conceptual existence their leach-like actions were reprehensible to a man whose entire profession prior to becoming a flamehaze was that of killing men for money and fame. At the very least there existed a reason for Lucien’s prior actions. To save himself was to save others. [color=b22222] “Ahhh, I don’t think I’ve had a restful night in ages because of these creatures. Maybe I should look into some freetime. Get out of the office.” [/color] Of course Lucien wasn’t the sort to shrug off any duties. Though he enjoyed fine wine, cute girls, and all the other such things, his commitment to his cause was something unshakable, almost uncharacteristic to someone like that. Almost as if a degree of chivalry existed within Lucien, poor in practice, but flawless in execution. A valiant warrior who would give his all to his liege [Crimson Lord], or perhaps to the entirety of his nation [Humanity]. At the very least, he could use his newfound powers to prevent the loss of meaningless lives who wished not to fight. There existed three types of people in Lucien’s eyes; those who picked up the sword for those who cannot, those who cannot lift a sword for themselves, and those who used the sword against those who cannot protect themselves, and if the continuation of actions against the defenseless were to continue, one could reasonably assume he would continue to protect those who couldn’t. Though the two clashed a lot, the Crimson Lord known as Seina, the Pontiff of Order, has selected out of all the individuals she could have paired up with, because of these traits. Perhaps there existed a concept known as “fate”. Perhaps it was merely blind luck. But such nuances were of no importance to Lucien. If anything, the only thing that mattered was what occurred during the present. And during the present, if Lucien didn’t commit to fighting against the creatures which overwhelmed the entirety of Harvard. [color=b22222] “Lot’s of these bastards, eh?” [/color] Lucien asked towards the group of his teammates, wondering if they had any sort of strategy in regards to fighting these creatures. There were a lot of them, and with a lot of humans in the way it became a bit harder for the use of area of effect abilities in fear it may do more harm than good in this situation. Lucien was the sort to prefer to think of a battle plan before running headstrong into his foes. Thoughtful understanding of a situation can turn losing situations into a winning one at the drop of a hat through a single instance. [color=b22222] “Outnumbered, undermanned, underfunded. It is like I’m a mercenary during the war all over again, ain’t it?” [/color] [color=b22222] [b] “Don’t go away expending that life I earned. Our deal isn’t so frivolous to let you die somewhere you would regret.” [/b] [/color] [color=b22222]“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get going. If anything, I ain’t exactly about to kill myself for no reason. Man’s pride is fragile if he doesn’t fulfill his goal. And I am not one to break promises. At the very least, I am not about to break a second.” [/color] Well, he currently had to make sure that no more humans were destroyed by the “monsters”. After finding what he had came to find, Lucien sprung into action. [color=b22222] “Perception.’ [/color] As if the light itself, Lucien moved at a speed almost incomprehensible to most things. The spear’s blade appeared to dance across the sky, as if the crack of a bell tolled, serene and peaceful in its construction, sweeping aside the nothing in no hurry for the next and that if only man could change another forever if man merged like a flame swirling up for an instant then snuffed out harshly along the phantasmal nothing. And as quickly as it had began, it has stopped. [color=b22222] “Oi, found you. Been looking all over for ya. Kept you waitin’, huh?” [/color] Lucien had recovered back to the presence of someone he had recognized, one “Kiara” [color=b22222] “Must’ve gotten a bit sidetracked. Glad to see you’re still in one piece. Had my hopes, anyway,” [/color] Lucien said with a wry smile plastered upon his face as if he was stifling a laugh from a bad joke or something along those lines. [color=b22222] “Better late than never, I suppose. Ain’t really my style though. The hero isn't the one that comes and saves the day. The hero is the one that is there from the beginning in order to prevent the villains from winning before they can start up.” [/color] Perhaps Lucien was a bit of a broken record in regards to a few of his sayings, like an old man forgetting he had merely moments ago told you the story of his war, but Lucien could, by a lot of standards, be considered an old man in a hardly 20-years-old body. [color=b22222] “C’mon, ain’t exactly gonna gain much dulling my blade here, no? Maybe if I was off the clock, I’d love to have a relaxing chat, but on the clock. And it isn’t a job I can clock out sick or at six. Lives to save, places to see, well, I guess it would only be “place” now, no? [/color] And as quickly as he had arrived, Lucien seemed ready to leave to a new battlefront. He was a traveler. Never settling in a single place for too long, and a free bird never lets himself get chained. Lucien seemed to fail at the “Not getting chained” Thing though, seeing as he holds an “occupation” or sorts. But could it really be called “work” if you enjoy doing it?