AtlasRize

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

Ah, didn't realize we were being that... stringent on random critters. Will do.

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

Vasim had gotten ugly, that was certain. But then, this was Vacuo. Ugly was part of life.

Rust Mallory had actually been on his way to Vasim earlier in the day, hoping for a nice bed, a nice meal, and a bath. Not necessarily in that order. But the Huntsman had gotten tired, and instead of pushing the rest of the way into town he'd decided to just pull his rattletrap old truck-slash-living space into a fairly isolated rocky patch and take a nap. It wasn't an unusual thing for him to do, and in all honesty the Faunus spent far more nights sleeping in his vehicle than in any town.

It was the sirens that woke him from his sleep. He was still a ways from Vasim itself, but sound carries across the desert with no large structures to stop it. Within moments he had begun driving again, hoping to get to the settlement in time to help. By the time he'd gotten too close to safely drive any further, it became very clear that he had failed.

Silencing his scroll Rust made his final approach to the town on foot, slipping through the sparse cover and utilizing his semblance to create screening clouds of sand when needed. Already he had seen far too many Grimm. He ground his teeth in frustration as he got closer and the stink of smoke hit him. Where had they come from? There shouldn't have been so many, or ones so big anywhere close. Vasim was remote, but not unsupported.

Rust sprinted the last stretch to the wall, and with a leap shot upwards, hands reaching. The Huntsman caught the top of the wall and pulled himself up into a balanced crouch, keen eyes peering into the city. With another leap he vaulted into one of the town's watch towers. It was a simple affair, a single room where one or two people could keep watch for bandits or Grimm. A single table, a pair of chairs, a half-eaten meal. No bodies though. Whoever had there had either left the tower to try and help. Or to try and escape. Either way it was painfully obvious that chances were good that both options had been bad ones.

He crouched at the edge of the tower, tracking the movements of Grimm below, looking for signs of survivors. Rust wasn't an overly large man, but he wasn't small either. If any of the monsters below looked up they would have at least even chances on spotting him. Thankfully with the light dying and the shadows of the tower itself his dark jacket and pants helped cloak him further. Of course there was no helping the red shock of hair on top of his head. There had been a shudder from his silenced scroll earlier, but he continued to ignore it. No sense in causing undue noise right now, not with so many enemies about. Although his every instinct screamed at him to dive into the street and go on the offensive, Rust held back. The numbers weren't good, and a more stealthy approach was called for.

But that was before he saw the Nevermore and the Huntress it had begun to take an interest in. With a single smooth movement he brought Savage Arc into his hand, the weapon shifting into its bow configuration with a series of quiet clicks. Rust could see more Grimm pulled towards the focus of the Nevermore's interest, catching wind of the out-in-the-open woman on the roof. His eyes glanced over the route he'd need to get to her, calculating distance and the Grimm's movements.

Doable.

Rust stood and drew and arrow from his quiver before turning and moving back to the far side of the tower. There was a brief moment where his lips wanted to curl into a smile, knowing the adrenaline high that was about to hit his system. There were few things better than taking out Grimm, that was certain.

With a rush he was moving. Four steps and he was airborne, arcing out from the watch tower, black jacket flapping in the wind of his passage. He hit the roof of the next building and rolled forward, coming back to his feet with a smoothness that his old trainers would have been proud of. In an instant Rust was running again. Savage Arc lifted in his hands and he pulled back the string, drawing the lightning arrow back to his cheek and taking careful aim. With a snap he let the arrow fly, then leaped again.

If it struck home, the arrow would loose a small storm of electrical energy into the monster. Arcs of violet light would dance and crawl across the screeching Grimm as it flailed and struggled to stay airborne. Certainly wouldn't be enough for a kill shot - the bird was too big for that - but it would hopefully be enough to buy time and deal some damage.

Rust touched down a few feet to Gwyn's left, immediately pulling a second arrow from his quiver and sparing the Huntress a quick glimpse before looking back to the Grimm overhead. He was surprised to find that the woman carried no visible weapon of any kind, but then again there was the glowing sphere of... something in her hand.

"Well, glad I'm not the only one who was close by."

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

Rust Mallory

Name: Rust Mallory
Sex: Male
Age: 26
Phenotype: Faunus (Leopard)
Kingdom: Vacuo
Appearance:
Rust is a solidly built man, his appearance roughened by life in the harsh conditions of Vacuo. He stands just over six feet with a shock of dark red hair and an impressive musculature without being over the top. Although technically Caucasian, his skin is perpetually sun darkened. What tends to stand out the most about Rust's appearance, above all, are his bright green slit-pupiled eyes. For anyone who pays even the slightest bit of attention, they very clearly mark him as Faunus. While not as obvious as horns or rabbit ears or a tail, they're impossible to mistake when you do notice them.

Personality:
Rust Mallory likes to think of himself as a hardened, bad ass Huntsman from the wastes, and likes to act the part. He can be boisterous and cocky, but absolutely focused when it comes time to take on the Grimm. Despite the harshness of a life lived in the more dangerous areas of the kingdom, Rust maintains a decided optimistic outlook on life and the future. This also tends to bleed over into his initial opinions of people, even if it's an attitude that hasn't always been rewarded. His upbringing and parents' insistence that he and his sister be able to survive and provide for themselves has given him a fairly low opinion of people who prove that they can't take care of themselves, but rather than discard those people Rust feels that it's his job as a Huntsman to take care of them, regardless of his opinion of them as a person.

Biography:
Rust was born and raised in the harsh wastelands of Vacuo to a pair of nomadic travelers with no real connections to any permanent place. His mother and father gave little care to others outside of their little family group, considering anyone who couldn't survive and take care of themselves as not being worth the time and energy needed to help. Rust's older sister, Sepia, took their parents' teaching to heart as well, and has continued their survivalist, unattached lifestyle.

Rust, however, came to some different conclusions. Somewhere around his twelfth birthday, the boy became separated from his family and found himself lost. For several days he wandered the wastes, desperately trying to find his family while dodging the occasional Grimm. More than likely, he would have been dead had he not encountered the Huntress.

Her name was Onyx, and she had only recently graduated from Beacon Academy in Vale. She'd come to Vacuo to test herself and experience more of the world. For two weeks the two traveled together, eventually finding the trail of his family's vehicle / home and tracking them. Along the way Rust found himself exposed to an outlook that at times was completely removed from that of his family, one that espoused the need to protect the weak and defenseless, to help those who were not able to provide for themselves.

Rust did not forget the lessons he learned from Onyx even after being reunited with his family. His questioning of what had been standard family ways of dealing with outsiders ignited some amount of friction between the boy and the rest of his family, but never enough to cause real strife. Inspired by Onyx and his new outlook on the world, Rust enrolled in Shade Academy at his first chance, intent on becoming a Huntsman so that not only could he be the strongest survivor possible, but that he could put that strength to use to help those who truly needed it.

Despite being Faunus himself, Rust has a distinct dislike for the tactics and methods used by the White Fang. He may have supported their goals of equality in the past, but their current terrorist incarnation leaves him cold. He doesn't like bullies or cowards, which he sees them to be.

Aura Color: Crimson

Semblance: Geomancy
Rust's Semblance is geomancy, the ability to manipulate earthen materials. With focus and concentration he is able to move dirt, sand, rock, stone, and soil at will. This can be something as simple as a plume of sand bursting up into his opponent's face or as complicated as shaping a tunnel through solid stone. Loose substances like sand, dust, or loose soil are far easier to manipulate than rock and stone. Mud poses its own challenges given the amount of water also involved in its composition, but it can be done. The larger the area he tries to manipulate or the more solid the substance the more concentration and focus is required, making in-combat choices generally limited to small areas of loose composition. The arid lands of Vacuo make for a smorgasbord of loose, dry materials to work with, however.

Weapon: Savage Arc
Melee, Ranged, Dust
Savage Arc is a combination nagamaki / compound bow, and like many Huntsman weapons switches between the two forms in a flurry of shifting parts. The melee function of Savage Arc possesses a three foot, single edged blade with a gentle curve and a chisel tip. It is backed by a three foot handle designed to be wielded almost exclusively in both hands. The design of the weapon ensures a significant amount of force being applied to each and every strike. A truly skilled user is capable of switching to a single handed style in some instances by gripping just below the guard and wielding it in a spinning motion.

Savage Arc's bow form is a simple and straight forward projectile weapon. It is almost silent in use and has surprising range for a non-firearm. Rotating cams at each end of the six foot length allow for an easier draw as well as more power for each shot. Rust carries a small assortment of arrows including regular broadheads and three varieties of Dust enhanced shafts. Arrows enhanced with fire, lightning, and ice aligned Dust explode on impact into an instant elemental effect: a ball of flame, a flash freeze, or a sphere of lightning. The nocks for each type of arrow are specially designed to be recognizable by touch, allowing for the user to quickly find the one he wants without having to look.

Favors:
- A good fight
-A good meal
-The night sky
-Skilled comrades

Disfavors:
-Authority
-Pretentiousness
-People who can't look out for themselves
-Bullies

Affinities: Rust tends to be a pretty straight forward fighter. He likes to hold the attention of the enemy and deliver maximum damage. He uses his mouth to maximum effect as well, focusing his enemies on him while his allies outflank and stay more or less out of harm's way. Rust's Faunus heritage also provides him with excellent eyesight, particularly at night and for tracking movement.

Faults: Rust often lacks subtlety and tact when it comes to a fight. More than once his headstrong style has gotten him in trouble. His weapon's ranged abilities are slower and more limited than a firearm in a straight up fight and are more useful in scenarios where he can set up an ambush or there is a pause in the battle.

Theme Song: Headstrong

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

@tobiax@EnterTheHero Revised and resubmitted.

Rust Mallory

Name: Rust Mallory
Sex: Male
Age: 26
Phenotype: Faunus (Leopard)
Kingdom: Vacuo
Appearance:
Rust is a solidly built man, his appearance roughened by life in the harsh conditions of Vacuo. He stands just over six feet with a shock of dark red hair and an impressive musculature without being over the top. Although technically Caucasian, his skin is perpetually sun darkened. What tends to stand out the most about Rust's appearance, above all, are his bright green slit-pupiled eyes. For anyone who pays even the slightest bit of attention, they very clearly mark him as Faunus. While not as obvious as horns or rabbit ears or a tail, they're impossible to mistake when you do notice them.

Personality:
Rust Mallory likes to think of himself as a hardened, bad ass Huntsman from the wastes, and likes to act the part. He can be boisterous and cocky, but absolutely focused when it comes time to take on the Grimm. Despite the harshness of a life lived in the more dangerous areas of the kingdom, Rust maintains a decided optimistic outlook on life and the future. This also tends to bleed over into his initial opinions of people, even if it's an attitude that hasn't always been rewarded. His upbringing and parents' insistence that he and his sister be able to survive and provide for themselves has given him a fairly low opinion of people who prove that they can't take care of themselves, but rather than discard those people Rust feels that it's his job as a Huntsman to take care of them, regardless of his opinion of them as a person.

Biography:
Rust was born and raised in the harsh wastelands of Vacuo to a pair of nomadic travelers with no real connections to any permanent place. His mother and father gave little care to others outside of their little family group, considering anyone who couldn't survive and take care of themselves as not being worth the time and energy needed to help. Rust's older sister, Sepia, took their parents' teaching to heart as well, and has continued their survivalist, unattached lifestyle.

Rust, however, came to some different conclusions. Somewhere around his twelfth birthday, the boy became separated from his family and found himself lost. For several days he wandered the wastes, desperately trying to find his family while dodging the occasional Grimm. More than likely, he would have been dead had he not encountered the Huntress.

Her name was Onyx, and she had only recently graduated from Beacon Academy in Vale. She'd come to Vacuo to test herself and experience more of the world. For two weeks the two traveled together, eventually finding the trail of his family's vehicle / home and tracking them. Along the way Rust found himself exposed to an outlook that at times was completely removed from that of his family, one that espoused the need to protect the weak and defenseless, to help those who were not able to provide for themselves.

Rust did not forget the lessons he learned from Onyx even after being reunited with his family. His questioning of what had been standard family ways of dealing with outsiders ignited some amount of friction between the boy and the rest of his family, but never enough to cause real strife. Inspired by Onyx and his new outlook on the world, Rust enrolled in Shade Academy at his first chance, intent on becoming a Huntsman so that not only could he be the strongest survivor possible, but that he could put that strength to use to help those who truly needed it.

Despite being Faunus himself, Rust has a distinct dislike for the tactics and methods used by the White Fang. He may have supported their goals of equality in the past, but their current terrorist incarnation leaves him cold. He doesn't like bullies or cowards, which he sees them to be.

Aura Color: Crimson

Semblance: Geomancy
Rust's Semblance is geomancy, the ability to manipulate earthen materials. With focus and concentration he is able to move dirt, sand, rock, stone, and soil at will. This can be something as simple as a plume of sand bursting up into his opponent's face or as complicated as shaping a tunnel through solid stone. Loose substances like sand, dust, or loose soil are far easier to manipulate than rock and stone. Mud poses its own challenges given the amount of water also involved in its composition, but it can be done. The larger the area he tries to manipulate or the more solid the substance the more concentration and focus is required, making in-combat choices generally limited to small areas of loose composition. The arid lands of Vacuo make for a smorgasbord of loose, dry materials to work with, however.

Weapon: Savage Arc
Melee, Ranged, Dust
Savage Arc is a combination nagamaki / compound bow, and like many Huntsman weapons switches between the two forms in a flurry of shifting parts. The melee function of Savage Arc possesses a three foot, single edged blade with a gentle curve and a chisel tip. It is backed by a three foot handle designed to be wielded almost exclusively in both hands. The design of the weapon ensures a significant amount of force being applied to each and every strike. A truly skilled user is capable of switching to a single handed style in some instances by gripping just below the guard and wielding it in a spinning motion.

Savage Arc's bow form is a simple and straight forward projectile weapon. It is almost silent in use and has surprising range for a non-firearm. Rotating cams at each end of the six foot length allow for an easier draw as well as more power for each shot. Rust carries a small assortment of arrows including regular broadheads and three varieties of Dust enhanced shafts. Arrows enhanced with fire, lightning, and ice aligned Dust explode on impact into an instant elemental effect: a ball of flame, a flash freeze, or a sphere of lightning. The nocks for each type of arrow are specially designed to be recognizable by touch, allowing for the user to quickly find the one he wants without having to look.

Favors:
- A good fight
-A good meal
-The night sky
-Skilled comrades

Disfavors:
-Authority
-Pretentiousness
-People who can't look out for themselves
-Bullies

Affinities: Rust tends to be a pretty straight forward fighter. He likes to hold the attention of the enemy and deliver maximum damage. He uses his mouth to maximum effect as well, focusing his enemies on him while his allies outflank and stay more or less out of harm's way. Rust's Faunus heritage also provides him with excellent eyesight, particularly at night and for tracking movement.

Faults: Rust often lacks subtlety and tact when it comes to a fight. More than once his headstrong style has gotten him in trouble. His weapon's ranged abilities are slower and more limited than a firearm in a straight up fight and are more useful in scenarios where he can set up an ambush or there is a pause in the battle.

Theme Song: Headstrong

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

@AtlasRize It plays in the episode where Velvet reveals her weapon. Towards the end of Season 3 I believe?

@Ryuji Sakamoto

Oh, Fall of Beacon. Yeah, for whatever reason I tend not to place songs in movies/shows while I'm listening to them. I'll hear it later in a different context and be like "I swear I've heard this someplace before..." Duh.

Also if one of you GM guys (@tobiax, @EnterTheHero)wants to hit me on Discord (Rize) it'd probably be quicker to fix stuff to your liking.

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

@AtlasRize The second aspect of "Impact Armor" is just basically Aura itself, or the most basic application of it. I think the main aspect is explained better now.

@tobiax

It's more of a stronger application of that aspect. Happy to ditch it though.

Also 'I May Fall' is Velvet's theme, so...

@tobiax

Hmmm? I don't actually remember hearing it in the show just the soundtrack, honestly.

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

@EnterTheHero Made an edit to Rust's Semblance. Hopefully that works for you, because I rather like the idea of it. Even if it's not the most powerful thing, I'm fond of it.

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

@AtlasRize Rust looks good, but his Semblance is a little underwhelming. I wouldn't mind if you stepped it up a notch~

@EnterTheHero

Sure, I can up it a bit. Didn't want to go overboard on it and have it come up as too buff. I'll amp it a bit to increase his ability to tank.

Hunters of Remnant: Bleeding Hearts

@Ryuji Sakamoto
Nice, I could see Gwyn and Rust working well together: tank+artillery.

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

The Sound and the Fury...

The image in the mirror stared back at Echo with a wry, calculating expression on her face. She'd been off shift for thirty minutes and Tana and Holden would be waiting on her by the time she got to the Factory. Thirty minutes and she'd changed three times. Three stupid times. She didn't normally take so long to get dressed, and she fumed at the fact that she was doing so now. It was just that after the awkwardness with Tana and the resulting several days of stress about it, Echo wasn't feeling her normally confident bad ass self. At least when she had time to think about it, that was, and she was thinking way too much right now.

"Oh fuck you, mirror." With a snarl she began ripping off clothes and throwing them at her bed, leaving her clad in nothing but the underwear and bra she'd put on before her shift. The sleeve of colorful, intermixed tattoos on her left arm from shoulder to wrist stood out in stark contrast to the twisting, tribal-esque ones inked across the right side of her torso. "I am so over this nonsense." Echo snatched up a black flame decorated tank and denim jeans, jamming them on. Boots and jewelry followed as well as a dark blue cap over her vibrant blue hair. With a last obscene gesture at the mirror, Echo snagged up her data pad and ear piece and hurried out of the room.

Ten minutes later Echo was standing in the door of the Factory, letting the pounding music wash over her like a healing wave. Music always lifted her up, made her feel like her problems were so much less than they had been before. With the right tunes anything was possible, any obstacle could be conquered. With the right tunes she could take on the whole Devastator fleet single-handedly.

A wildly waving hand caught her attention, and Echo saw both Tana and Holden seated about halfway back through the room, the woman standing up and gesturing wildly with both arms. Echo smiled and began shoving through the relatively small but still noisy and in the way crowd. It didn't take long to reach the small table that they'd claimed, and Echo paused for a second, looking at her two friends. Tana was all long limbs and just the right curves. Black pants and a bright, low cut white short sleeved shirt hugged those curves, showing off a healthy amount of cleavage and well toned arms with vibrantly dark skin. For his part, Holden was the same as always. Denim jeans, a black t-shirt, blonde hair atop a Boy Scout face, and the trim but powerful physique of the professional soldier that he was.

Echo dropped into the last chair at the table, finding a drink already in place waiting for her. "Ah, you guys know just how to make me happy!" With an expert flick of the wrist she tossed back the fiery liquid, blinking back tears in the aftermath. "Oh hell, what the fuck was that?" Holden and Tana laughed, quickly joined by Echo.

"Hey Holden, where's Jeannie?" Jeannie was Holden's girlfriend and a scientist in the hydroponics labs. The petite, mousy little brunette knew more about plants than Echo could ever hope or want to know. In all honesty, she hadn't ever even been on Echo's radar as existing until she and Holden got together. Apparently they'd spent about a week working in the same area of the ship and it had been instant connection. Zap. Since then the two of them were almost inseparable. It was to the point that seeing Holden without Jeannie seemed somehow odd.

"Working on some project. Something about phosphates. Or something. I really didn't understand what she was trying to explain, went right over my head." Holden shrugged. He made no secret of his difficult in grasping the sciency-technical stuff that both Jeannie and Echo worked with on a daily basis. Holden knew security, and fighting, and he knew them well, but a scholar he was not.

Tana snorted, a decidedly unladylike sound that she tended to make when she found something really amusing. "Considering that you're like two feet taller than she is, she must have one hell of an arm." Echo and Tana exploded with laughter at the admittedly lame but still somehow still funny joke, while Holden treated them both to a fake glare of fake outrage, that only made them both laugh even harder. So far, the night was starting off well.

It didn't take too long of a time, or too many drinks, to get the two girls out on dancing. Holden wasn't one for dancing, particularly when Jeannie wasn't around. As it was he was busy on his datapad messaging back and forth with her. That was fine though, neither Echo nor Tana ever expected the big guy to join them, and would have frankly been rather damn surprised if he had.

The music was pounding, the adrenaline was rushing, and the crowd was alive. The awkwardness between Echo and Tana seemed to have gone completely, and their previous comfort and familiarity had come back in its place. This, more than anything, had Echo riding on an emotional high, buoyed by music and good company. Hence why she didn't notice just how close she was to the table before she bumped into it.

Echo immediately jumped back, her eyes going wide even as cries of anger erupted from the three people who had been sitting at the table as their drinks spilled onto laps and floor. "Oh hell, I am so sorry! I didn't see-"

Shit.

While two of the three from the table were desperately trying to pick up glasses and bottles, or clean off their clothes, the third was now looming very close and very angrily right in Echo's face. Unfortunately, she knew that particular loom and the individual to which it was attached. Ansel Mueller. Big, burly. Security guy of some sort, tended to hang around the hangar. And for some reason, he seemed to absolutely hate her. Not a chance went by when Ansel didn't give her one of his well refined and well used glares and on the occasions where they needed to communicate for one reason or another, it was without exception short and uncomfortable. Thing was, Echo had no idea what she'd ever done to earn the guy's apparent dislike.

"I should have fucking known it was you, Olveira. Why can't you watch where the hell you're going?" Echo tried to smile, forcing it onto her face. The guy was pretty clearly drunk, and she didn't imagine he was a happy drunk at the best of times. Not at all.

"Hey," Echo began. She could feel Tana just behind her. "Hey, I'm so sorry Ansel. I didn't realize I was so close to the table. I'll buy a round to make up for it, ok?"

"How about you and your little friend go fuck yourselves, heh?" Echo was suddenly backing up, her hands raised. Even still she could feel her own temper fraying, heat rising into her cheeks. "You stupid little vacc-rat spacer bitch."

The world suddenly went cold around her. There it was. The reason Ansel was always so hostile, so angry towards her. Vacc-rat. The modern equivalent of a racial slur. There was a small but virulent portion of Earth's population that blamed the Armani for the invasion, for drawing the attention of the Devastators and the subsequent death and destruction. Never mind the fact that the Armani had lost as much or more than anyone else, that the destruction of the Citadel had been a massive blow to the spacers. And now it was out in the open. Ansel hated her not for anything she'd done, but simply for what she was. It was the worst of old Earth, brought forward into the new life they were trying to build.

Echo's growing anger had quickly blossomed into all out rage. She stared up into that twisted, snarling expression and wanted nothing more than to knock the ugly look from the big man's blocky face. She wouldn't get the chance, however. There was a punch thrown, but it wasn't Echo who threw it.

Ansel staggered back, tripping over a chair and hitting the ground. Hard. Tana stood half in front of Echo, her hands balled into fists and rage write large and scary across her beautiful dark-skinned face. She worked the fingers of her right hand, the one that she'd used to knock Ansel onto his ass. "Don't you ever talk to my friend like that again, Ansel Mueller! Or I swear to god I will not use my fist next time but a fucking chair. You got it, big guy? I don't ever want to hear you saying that kind of trash or I will find a way to get you assigned to cleaning out the waste system by fucking hand for the rest of your life."

Echo's rage had suddenly dissipated, sucked away by the astonishment she felt at watching Tana not only belt Ansel, but knock him quite literally onto his ass and then scold him like an unruly child. Echo knew all about her own temper, but Tana was not typically one to get angry. Especially not punch someone in the face angry. She was the calm, collected one. Echo was the anger bomb.

Suddenly she found herself pulled away from the scene of the crime, Tana being jerked along right with her. Holden had taken a solid grip on one of each of their arms and was propelling them without hesitation of pleasantries across the floor of the Factory and to the entrance. The shift from pulsing lights in the darkness out into the lighter conditions outside of the club was jarring and Echo found herself blinking into Holden's face as he spun the two of them around.

"Go, get out of here. I'll deal with Ansel."

"Holden, wait-" Echo began, only to be cut off by a curt gesture from her friend.

"No argument. Get out of here, go back to your quarters, something. I'll deal with this. Now. Dealing with assholes is my area of expertise, remember?"

Echo sighed and nodded. Tana leaned forward and kissed Holden on the cheek with a quiet thanks. Echo snagged the other girl's hand and pulled her away from the bar and towards the nearest transport hub. "Let's go Fly Girl, looks like the party's over for the time being."