Conscripts

My Hero Academia rp: Underdogs

Feels good to be back. I look forward to writing my winged weirdo again

Valkyria Chronicles: Echo Black

St. Gaétane Cathedral
Weeks before

"Right, this should keep the water out."

It was rainy season again. The godly sun was barely seeping through the clouds to reach the suffering species on no man's land. Ounces of water poured in a desperate attempt to wash away the disgusting legacy of the 'War to end all wars'. It made it worse. The tears of suffering and pain hidden beneath streams of mud, blood and gunpowder. Their cries unheard, their anguish forgotten.

For these innocent people, this Cathedral was the only sanctuary where they could call home, after their small town had become two ends of a tug of war between the Federation and Imperial Alliance. It is located on a hill in the suburb, separate from the gunfire, from artillery and dead bodies. Those who couldn't run away fast enough or their lingering feelings towards their mother earth were a force too powerful to resist would take shelter here under the town militia's protection. But whereas they did not face the bullet, faced something else instead.

The planks weren't enough to withstand another stray artillery shell, but it would do against the downpour that was still raging at the moment. The rainwater now bounced off the wooden surface or followed the steep slope of the planks down to the dirt. Now the cathedral inhabitants could enjoy a bit of dryness. He knew all too well what could turn out from eating and sleeping with water. Lucky he paid much attention and actively tried to dry his feet. Some weren't so fortunate, and they paid for it with their toes.

"Thanks for the extra effort there, Michael" The squad leader - the new squad leader - nodded her head in appreciation as she handed the Edinburghian sapper a clean rag. Unlike the previous two leaders that Michael had grown too used to, she wasn't too special. She had her shortcomings but she never seemed to have much issues with commanding a group of people, and was able to get used to the war pretty well. It was probably better with some normalcy, but regardless he missed his old squad. He wondered how they were doing. Were they alive? How was Lucia doing? Thoughts that crossed his mind, but didn't linger for too long.

"You're welcome. Everything's good here?" He replied as he took off the outer layers of his uniform to dry.

"Pretty much. The food situation wasn't too bad. The only problem is trench foot. But they aren't that critical yet." She looked around. "...My only concern is if the Imperials want to take this place."

"Yeah..." Michael concurred. "I don't know how much they want this place. It's a high ground with good visions of the surroundings but is isolated from the majority of the fightings.

"I don't think they'd bother. They have their hands tied up in the town already."

---

"New orders from the top!"

The runner, his pant sleeves soaked in mud, barged into the cathedral. After a quick exchange of salutes, the young kid, barely the age of 15, briefly gazed at Michael as he faced the squad leader.

"The higher-ups are requesting Corporal Daunte's assistance inside the town. We are preparing the second phase of the offensive." He said. "Please report to Lieutenant Mayer by the end of today."

They're finally pressing to take over the town? Good. If this ended up well, they could perhaps see some respite for a while, until the next objective arrived. But it was a little funny that in the request, they were asking for his assistance instead of the squad's assistance. Legacies of that daring Amone tunnel raid still echoed among the ranks. It was pretty nice that he got some recognition at last, but hoped that wouldn't the excuse for them to throw him into more of it.

"Alright, Corporal Daunte and our sappers will follow you to your CO. Just give us a few moments, if you don't mind."

---

It was 1937 right? A brief look at his coat would clearly indicate that he was indeed in the present. And that he wasn't going to get back those youth anymore. But still? She was right there. As young as the trench days. A beacon of love, kindness and grace he had the pleasure of knowing. Was it hallucination? Or was it someone else that looked like her...

"Penttila..." It really was...he couldn't believe it. "Ah, I am Michael. Michael Daunte. It's a pleasure to meet you both."

Senja Penttila. Eija Penttila. Mothers and daughters do look alike perhaps.

"Oh war sucks always, but you get used to it after a while. Try and find something you can enjoy during these downtimes before combat. This war can last for a while, so it's better to have some respite activities." He replied as Austin complained about war. Ahh, recruits. Young and green. Will complain about uncomfortness anytime. Like he used to back then.

"Do you mind if I ask this, miss?" Then Michael turned to Eija, his mind full of curiosity and desire for confirmation. "Have you heard of a woman named Senja Penttila?"
@CFProxy@dwyer austin

~ Squad 914: Final Effort ~ An Alternative WW2 scenario

I haven't had a chance to charge a tank head-on and blow it up for years. Get ready for it

Valkyria Chronicles: Echo Black

---

Small chit-chats out of consideration, and the rest of the trip became a lullaby again. Staying up and awake for the entirety of the time wasn't improving situations any further. It was 34 times that Andrew had soaked his eyes in tears and stretched his mouth muscle to the limit, accurately counted by his travelling partner. Thus it was understandable that he was up in the air when the base was finally in sight. He could finally get some food and perhaps some rest.

The tank gracefully parked among its contemporaries in their specialized area near the mess hall. After notifying his crew, Andrew quickly gathered his belongings and climbed out of the hatch, where Michael was waiting, intending to fetch breakfast together. However, Michael had other plans.

"You want to clean your face a little?"

His thumb was pointing at the broken down truck right nearby. A truck with a missing tire and leaks of steam coming out of its hood, along with a fellow soldier rubbing the vehicle like it was his mistress. He made it looked like it was a minor deal, but the engine just audibly popped, the hood looked dangerously hot. It looked pretty toast.

"No, I need some good food now, not a boiling engine."

"Eating while sleepy doesn't help your taste. Come on, they need some engineers."

Aayyyy...how troublesome...

Reluctantly, Andrew followed the EW1 veteran to investigate this big hulk of domestic abuse. As the truck's hood was threateningly hot, Andrew put on his gloves that came with the tank uniform and lifted the hood up, not without a little bit of strength. The pressure created by the heat of the engine sucked the hood into place. You already kinda had a feeling of how screwed up that engine must have been worked to the point of to be that hot.

"Arrghh! Bloody..." Grimaced Andrew as the clotted smoke beneath the hood blew into his face. Swinging his hand a couple of times to get a good view of the engine, Michael's verdict were pretty quick.

"This looks like a simple overheating that had been prolonged a little too far." Michael gazed across the mechanicals, tilting his head a little to check for damage. "Rods and camshafts are damaged, but seems like she'll avoid being scrapped."

"Water ran dry probably for hours. Not even Ragnite can take this kind of beatings." Andrew shook his head, glancing over to the soldiers still recovering from this death ride. "You really need a better husband...

---

Thanks to the two of them muddling around the truck, they were late for breakfast. And to add more to that, they were furiously hungry. But at least they were wide awake, or rather their sense of taste.

"See, now we're gonna enjoy the fruit of our labour. Even rations would taste good."

"Please stop. It's irrelevant."

"I'm sharing with you my tips to happiness, dear Andrew. It's gonna be beneficial to you once you walk further into this war."

All it seemed to him was that he was delaying a meal for someone else's problem. Sure, he was a good soldier and wouldn't refuse an order if called for. But an order for someone not taking good care of the car, for seemingly stupid reasons, wasn't worth his time. Now, there's nothing would want to stand in his way to get some good breakfast.

"Two Egg Hams and Mushroom please, Vincenzo." The Edinburghian ordered for both. They both knew each other's taste for long, and they were surprisingly similar to each other. So both of them knew and trusted the other's judgement in culinary taste. Few minutes passed, and the long-awaited momentary heaven arrived on their white dishes.

"Over there. Those guys have empty seats."

"Only one though...Oh I see another empty seat over there."

"Well, there seems to be no paired seats though."

"I'll see you after lunch then."

"Alright, enjoy your meal."

Both of them went separate way. Michael to Austin and Eija while Andrew went to the Fiona's family. While Andrew just silently sat on the empty seat next to the three of them and enjoyed his long-awaited meal, Michael found himself much more interested in the two meal companions next to him, who both seemed to be from his squad.

"Good morning." The nobleman greeted both of them. "Is it alright if I can have this seat here?"
@Landaus Five-One@dwyer austin@CFProxy

♦ A New Era ♦ - A My Hero Academia RP

Acion Nakamiji

---

His arrival was pretty much last minute, and, having unfortunately arrived after the planning was finished, members of the team had to rebrief the plan to him. Long plan short, Acion was assigned to what's called the Lance Team, aside from the other team called Hammer. His job, along with the rest of the members, would be skirmishing. Chase the prefects, harass them, chip off their strength, survive. Basically being the big sore fingers in their sword-wielding hand. Simply everything he could possibly want. No disagreements there. The team placements were pretty much suited for their own respective role, he'd say. The thing that probably would put a little X doubt on his mind would be Ruby's decision to stick together. It's not...a bad idea per say. It's pretty much standard teamwork tactic in competitive games. But how close to the team and each other is a pretty vague description. For them, it may not be much of an issue at all, but for Acion, that could draw a line to what he should do. He's a flyer. As much as he wanted to improve ground combat, Acion's biggest strength would always be the fact that he could fly, and he could fly fast. He could be the eye, the thorn, and in this case the mouth of the team as well, since Dulga had wanted the team to not use earpieces, so chances are if something pop up and the team requiring assistance, he'd likely be the one to inform them. So if Ruby had wanted Acion to stay with the team, that wouldn't be good. Sometimes, the difference between victory and defeat could be the piece of information that one side knew but the others do not.

"How close do you want me to be?" Acion asked Ruby. "Because I think I want to be up there and watch what is going on."

The lack of earpieces would probably hurt Acion the most out of everybody, considering the fact that most of the time he acted independently, and relied on it to maintain the flow of vital information from and to him. And also when his other classmates weren't such adept flyers like he was, let's just say he ought to change his strategy a little bit this time.

"I'll not go too far though. Not to worry. I'll keep everyone updated at every turn." He reassured them, before giving them a two finger salute. "Good luck. We'll knock them a few pegs."

Once Dulga gave the order to go, Acion immediately took to the sky. He did not hesitate to burn off a bit of his stamina to building up the speed to sweep through a portion of the district close to 1-A's starting position before climbing to a higher altitude, enough to be slightly above than the tallest building in the entire training arena. He could possibly go even higher, but he knew he needed to keep track of his teammates as well and assist them if possible. But now, eyes of the sky, he'd observe, while trying to make sure he did not move too predictably, changing speed and direction every few seconds.

And not too long into it, the first enemy was spotted.

"What in the dying heaven..."

At first it was just a roar, and then the sound of metals being thrown into a recycling plant. Then emerged, from the distance, a huge minotaur in majestic silvers, hanging on a high building before doing the roof hopping.

This ain't gonna be an easy picking for sure.

If this is one guy, then he expected the others to be just as strong.

But at least he knew his location. What about the rest? That minotaur surely wasn't doing this without the other's involvement. He was taunting 1-A as well. He wanted them to follow him? And fight? All was too unclear at the moment.

Acion didn't stop him though. Firstly, he can't. The beast only asked if he can. He's not. Not on his own. Secondly, he needed to know where were the rest of their team, or if not, what they planned to do at least.

He turned back down to the rest of the Lance Team, trying to use hand signal and hope that one of them would notice. He'd point at himself, then his two eyes, then swung the two fingers around, then a finger at them, pointing upward, saying that he'd continue the scout around the arena, he'd be back in a minute. The lack of communication earpieces sucked, but he couldn't complain now. If they didn't get it, well...it's just a minute.
@Silver Carrot @Melpaws@Lucius Cypher@Ryonara

CONTAINMENT: Welcome to Facility B

"Well, I don't think we have much to work with."

Nobody knew what was going on. Nobody knew the way around. And nobody knew their own names. But at least he got someone else with him. Three minds are definitely better than one, especially when they don't know any better than you do.

One of the fellow inhabitants, let's say, began discussing how to address each other. Made sense considering they were all males, and calling each other by him and you would grow confusing fast. But what could he identify with? Something connected to him? Somewhere? He did suggest Americano, so that could work the same way. But then again...he didn't know where he came from. Ahhh...bugger.

He looked back into his own room. Ah, there could be one idea.

"If you don't mind calling me Tree. I'm sorry but I can't think of a better name."

It was as stupid as he thought it would be, but that was the first thing that came to mind when he saw the artificial tree inside his room. It reminded him that he did have some fondness with nature. He found a rather strange atmosphere when sleeping next to a tree, even though a fake one. He enjoyed the nature documentaries in his room. It is definitely something he could relate to.

Shortly, but all too suddenly, a deafening screech tore through his ear drum like they were paper. Rational thoughts collapsed, and the next thing he knew his hands were tight on his ears as he winced in the pain of sound before the entire hall went into total darkness. Absolute darkness, where he didn't even know he existed or not.

"That wasn't fun..."

What in the bloody hell...They barely knew what the hell was going on and now this happened.

The moment of confusion mixed with total blackness seemed like forever, but he'd rather enjoy that silence much more than the next bundle of confusion and fear that would be sow on him. A thump, a chug, and especially the roar. This was no human roar. This was no intelligent creature's roar. He knew nothing of what could do such a thing, but this would definitely not be a pleasant entity. And it seemed to be moving directly toward them.

'Oh no no no please.'

He wouldn't want to face whatever this thing is without seeing it beforehand.

Then the lights flickered on. Thankfully, nothing else was in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief as he glanced a worried look to his two new companies as the automatic message began playing over and over again.

"You're right. This doesn't look like a safe place to be in. We need some sort of weapon. Then we can search for the exit or barricade ourselves in."
@Vixen58@ReedeThe23rd

CONTAINMENT: Welcome to Facility B

He didn't know what brought him back to reality. Perhaps his brain had finally cooled down from the drowsiness of sleep, and had decided that he had had enough of travelling in the dream world. Or it was the unusual air of emptiness that alarmed his body that something wasn't going accordingly. But regardless, the brown-haired man finally exited unconsciousness as he opened his eyes, back to an unfamiliar room. Bare white walls boxed his surroundings, which consisted of a modest desk, dresser, television and a treadmill. The pure simplicity and unbearable dullness of his surroundings soon geared the conclusion that he was in prison. That, and also the fact that...

'What's this bloody thing?'

A circular object latched onto the skin of his neck. Its grip was annoyingly tight, but bearable. Who put this on him? Who dared to? And for what reasons? Questions led to another, in perfect accordance to the chain of causality, trying to find the simplest of answers to one of the questions, but as he approached the most basic of information, what he realized was that...he remembered nothing. Not even his name, his family, where he came from, or better yet what was the place he is currently in. His mind was eerily blank. This strange feeling, this definitely wasn't normal. How could he know nothing of anything? Was this supposed to be a dream? Was he still asleep?

He lifted himself upright as he swung his legs around down onto the floor. The ice cold floor that made his feet cringe also made him realize that this was actually reality. He wasn't dreaming. He was now in some sort of prison, in a grey garment with a blue tag on it, and he had no idea what was going on.

'I need some water.'

His throat was torturously dry from the deep sleep he had. With a quick swallow, he let out a cough for the throat to clear itself. A white puff of smoke suddenly rushed out of his mouth like a volcano. The sudden appearance of such anomaly made him shut his mouth immediately. It wasn't really smoke. A slap of his hand on the lingering cloud revealed that this was merely steam. A thick layer for sure. Oh yeah...his memories began to slowly recover. Just a little, enough to remember that he did possess this strange ability to create these weird harmless mist.

Looking around the room, he also remembered the bonsai tree. Oh how he loved to look at it, watch the light go on and off. The hand exerciser and the treadmill, in which he remembered using. So there definitely was something that he remembered, that was for sure.

Finally, he stood up, on planet Earth in what it felt like forever since. He'd probably need a bit of time before he could be perfectly active, but he wasn't willing to wait. His curiosity was itching him. And so he made his way to the opened door. Peeking his head slowly outside, he noticed two other men not too far from his location, talking about something. Oh good, they probably know better than he does right now.

He waited until his presence caught their attention before saying his greetings.

"Hello. Do you guys happen to know what is going on right now?"
@Vixen58@ReedeThe23rd

CONTAINMENT: Welcome to Facility B

MB-1945-SP

Full Name:
Stephen Perth

Age:
22

ID Number:
MB-1945-SP

Nationality:
Scottish

Appearance:
-5'7 (175cm), 150lbs (68kg)
-Dark brown hair, short in a combover style
-Dull blue eyes
-Light skin
-Decently lean body
-Callous two palms
-Male clothings

Background:
MB-1945-SP was born in [VOID], Scotland on March 3rd, [VOID] to a family of loggers. The family were relatively middle-class, and MB-1945-SP attended the local high school at the nearby town, [VOID]. MB-1945-SP began to regularly participated in his family's business as soon as he was in high school. His anomalous nature did not form until he reached puberty (14 years old), and slowly developed as his voice was breaking. It was made known after a teacher thought he was smoking. After being constantly mocked by his friends for his strange anomaly, the family decided to homeschool MB-1945-SP. By the age of 19, MB-1945-SP followed the family's business, but was taken away unexpectedly during a normal workday to Facility B.

Powers:
Fog Generation: MB-1945-SP is capable of generating a very thick layer of fog by exhaling air through his mouth. The fog is generated as it pass through his vocal chord and materialize just as it exited his mouth, and can quickly populate the surrounding area up to 2 meters in radius. The fog's duration depends on how hard he breathes, the harder he breathes, the lesser the duration due to less time for the air to get in touch with his vocal chord, but allows for quicker generation. The fog is non-toxic and its duration can last around 20 to 90 seconds. Visibility both inside the fog out and outside in is measured at roughly 3 meters. The fog does not form if he exhales through his nose.

Privileges:
-Hand exerciser
-Artificial bonsai tree
-Desk
-Dresser
-Treadmill
-Television
-Collection of Animal Documentary by [VOID]

CONTAINMENT: Welcome to Facility B

MB-1945-SP

Full Name:
Stephen Perth

Age:
22

ID Number:
MB-1945-SP

Nationality:
Scottish

Appearance:
-5'7 (175cm), 150lbs (68kg)
-Dark brown hair, short in a combover style
-Dull blue eyes
-Light skin
-Decently lean body
-Callous two palms
-Male clothings

Background:
MB-1945-SP was born in [VOID], Scotland on March 3rd, [VOID] to a family of loggers. The family were relatively middle-class, and MB-1945-SP attended the local high school at the nearby town, [VOID]. MB-1945-SP began to regularly participated in his family's business as soon as he was in high school. His anomalous nature did not form until he reached puberty (14 years old), and slowly developed as his voice was breaking. It was made known after a teacher thought he was smoking. After being constantly mocked by his friends for his strange anomaly, the family decided to homeschool MB-1945-SP. By the age of 19, MB-1945-SP followed the family's business, but was taken away unexpectedly during a normal workday to Facility B.

Powers:
Fog Generation: MB-1945-SP is capable of generating a very thick layer of fog by exhaling air through his mouth. The fog is generated as it pass through his vocal chord and materialize just as it exited his mouth, and can quickly populate the surrounding area up to 2 meters in radius. The fog's duration depends on how hard he breathes, the harder he breathes, the lesser the duration due to less time for the air to get in touch with his vocal chord, but allows for quicker generation. The fog is non-toxic and its duration can last around 20 to 90 seconds. Visibility both inside the fog out and outside in is measured at roughly 3 meters. The fog does not form if he exhales through his nose.

Privileges:
-Hand exerciser
-Artificial bonsai tree
-Desk
-Dresser
-Treadmill
-Television
-Collection of Animal Documentary by [VOID]

CONTAINMENT: Welcome to Facility B

I'll book a slot here. I'll come back and read the entire thing once I finish up my works