MachineSoul

Superheroics 101

Reserving a spot!

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

Day 6

Come morning, his canine ears immediately picked the sounds of footsteps and voice all around him, pulling him out of sleep. He sighed and blinked heavily, the grogginess that overtook him was due to the less-than-comfortable mattress the backplate of his armor proved to be. Aleko rolled himself on his feet and latched the the locks back in their place, refitting the suit on his frame to prepare for the march. Outside, he was greeted by men packing their tents and readying to move camp further North, then general Bulkwyn greeted him and offered breakfast before leaving him the call to start the final march. The still-dizzy Aleko only nodded to the rodent as he retreated to a more secluded portion of the advancing party camp to take care of his morning duties; after a quick breakfast and a brief wash of his teeth, the Emperor let out an ear-piercing whistle, lifted his fist to expand his fingers, then, point them towards the general direction of their march. It was time to move again.

As they went on, the cold became a more and more dangerous presence, welcoming the small army to the highlands of human territories. He couldn't help but feel a knot tying in his throat as he advanced, knowing that he was once again walking into enemy territory, garrisons could be hiding anywhere near their marching direction; he hoped that word didn't reach the enemy of this rather bold movement, placing his confidence in the fact that no one was expecting the smallest of the bigger factions to start acting up. That, if anyone knew of Cyrus's campaign spearheaded by the only heir of the late emperor. Among his own thudding of footsteps resonating against the closed helmet, the canine could hear the general talking to him once again, as she decided to pair up with her new favorite chatting companion; the shepherd could still feel slight annoyance towards her presence, the lackluster attitude and seriousness just didn't bode well for a general in his opinion. Strangely enough, though, he could find enjoyment within their brief conversations, her being there next to him comforted him for some reason, even though he didn't really trust her as a general. That was the real reason Aleko chose to conduct this operation, even though he felt rather intimidated by the prospect of commandeering a military unit a hundred times larger than what he used to order around.

I have to get over such fears, he thought to himself, I am the supreme commander of the army, now. My army. How queer.

“We must have entered the province of Northspark a few hours ago.” General Bulkwyn spoke to Aleko. “There won’t be much cover until we reach our destination so we better march more cautiously. We wouldn’t want word to reach the fortress.”

"That would indeed be counterproductive, general." He replied, his own canine slightly clattering before he finished the sentence.

“Is it always so cold around here?” She asked, obviously affected by the less-than-warm weather. To that, Aleko shrugged his shoulders, his own armor clattering together with a shiver of his own.

"Consider this but mild weather. I heard that winter here is worse than far in the north. They do say that it isn't so cold during snowfall."

The forest's unnaturally strong scent of pine scent got to him too; at first it was pleasant, he would take deep breaths of the air every now and then to reinvigorate his lungs, but it soon intoxicated him as well to the point of nearly retching his awful breakfast. In time, the olfactory system got used to strong odor, but Aleko suspected that his nose had burned and there was no chance for him to regain normal smell ever again. Once the final camp was set near the fortress, the heir found himself sitting in front of a fire with the slightly tipsy the female general; he had a wooden mug clasped in his hands, his first and only wine for the night. It was half full, the other one went down the hatch with some of the salty bacon and tough bread; as awful as this may be for more puffed up nobles, he felt right at home in these 'standard military issue' situations and even though he admittedly missed the warmth of a good bed and the rich taste of freshly made food, he preferred the unique charm of being on the field. He followed the female halfling with his eyes, noticing the grin on her rodent snout. It was a contagious smile, so contagious that he also smirked with a hidden corner of his mouth.

"Something on your mind, general?" He asked, realizing only after he had uttered that he opened a conversation with the FSC.

“These aren’t ordinary pines. They are Mage-Trees. You know, some kind of artificially-made species of pine allegedly created by the mages from this kingdom. They say that its sap has some weird properties that alchemists find valuable.”

"Huh." Aleko replied as he glanced up at the majestic trees. "Well, why would that interest us?"

“Well, it means that once we take over this province, we have access to this resource. I hear it’s quite rare and who knows? Maybe we can find some use from it later.” She replied.

"Hm." He took another sip of his grape juice before he put it away. He pushed himself on his feet and picked up his ASAR 1044, clutching its wooden handguard and trigger grip before sighing heavily. "Every little thing may be useful for someone out there, even dust mites. General, you'll find me on night watch if you wanted to converse some more. I can never sleep before operations."

But it seemed that the female just glued herself to him like a large flea. He simply couldn't have a moment to himself and think out his intentions, his motivations for driving forward this campaign. Until now, he's been an admirable soldier for accepting his role and set plans in motion, but he didn't quite give himself enough time to think through his own view over the initiative he was taking.

How is this beneficial for me? Why should I do it? If it weren't for their sake, would I still be here? were several questions floating in his mind as the general went on about everything that she could have an opinion about. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that she had queried him about Eagleblade and the War of Tulips. His eyes glued off the horizon to glance at her shape as he finally deduced what she wanted to know. He turned his snout back at the horizon, pushing the visor and bascinet too, and thinned his lips.

"I saw quite a bit of its farmlands. Nothing impressive, they look exactly like any other farmer's settlements. You'd think that they would be richer, since Eagleblade's the nexus of all trading in Avalon, but no; the rich remain rich, the poor poorer. Once the expedition was done, we boarded the ship and went back to Freedom." He omitted what happened afterwards, since he suspected she knew about his boldness in front of his superiors.

"Must be warmer, at the very least”

"Warm enough to start sweating under the sun." Aleko admitted after a breathy chuckle. Her gaze only briefly turned to the Emperor before she returned her attention forward.

“Have you ever fought Wizards before?” She asked quite bluntly, her tone changing in an instant. That drew his attention to her, curious about her sudden change of mood.

"Not real-" he barely mouthed before she interrupted him with quite an amount of gall.

“Whatever you do, don’t underestimate them based on their appearance. Patience is key, keep your distance and more importantly stay out of sight. If you need to close the gap, be quick and keep in mind the previous advice, one mistake and it’s all over. With their magic bullshit they make us and the rest of the Elite Rangers look like kids with slingshots.” A grunt of frustration escaped her before she leaned in a little closer to Aleko, as if trying to tell him something in private

“If you ask me, I think it’s pretty damn… unnatural for someone to wield that kind of power.” She admitted to him. The canine wrinkled the top of his snout.

Had a nasty run-in with a wizard once, haven't you? He questioned her in his mind, but abstained from voicing the inquiry. He lowered his head a little to have a better look at the general as she leaned in close to him; for her it may have been very natural, but he felt more and more uncomfortable about her presence, mostly because it reminded him of something much less military-esque. He felt as if he was counting the stars on a clear night sky with a sweetheart, rather than paying great attention to any incoming threat.

"I under-" but he stopped mid-word as his sensitive ears had picked up a sound coming from nearby. He turned his frame abruptly and raised his rifle towards the general direction of the sound, lining up the rear and front sight for his right eye. Shortly after, his vision was filled with an armored hand as it pushed his rifle down in a quite curtly move; Aleko turned his gaze to Bulkwyn, whatever small seed of sympathy that had grow in him somewhere quickly dried out as he was remembered about her unprofessional demeanor. While it felt completely natural for a general to shoot down a lieutenant, he tried very hard to get used to the fact that he was more than that now. While not his merit, he disliked being treated like an underling in front of other underlings.

It soon became obvious who approached them, the Emperor nestled his rifle into his chest in a resting position, the armored right arm cradled the wooden butt-stock of his firearm. He only nodded to the infiltrator as he greeted him, rather impressed by the fact that he knew immediately that he was the Emperor, and not some nameless Elite Ranger. The discussion was short, but he learned everything there was to know about the castle and how his bit of the plan will work out. The agent seemed rather bemused by the fact that Aleko would actively participate in the takeover, but as Bulkwyn implied that he wanted his role at all costs at the threat of execution, he couldn't feel but a little amused at the expression of the dark elf. Just to continue the joke, Aleko met his gaze with his own icy pair of eyes and slowly lowered his head. Hearing him reply in a meek tone drew a light smirk on the corner of his mouth. He quickly glanced to the left, noticing one of the other rangers stifling an amused snort. Once the infiltrator was given the free to go, Bulkwyn clapped his shoulder and invited him to a more secluded region of the forest, where, she offered him a stone. He inspected it curiously, analyzing its faces and edge thoroughly. He couldn't help but chuckle at her quip on the Wizard's precaution.

"We do have to appreciate his thoughtfulness." He remarked, smiling at the stone. "Good night, Pepper." Only a second later, he realized that he called her by her first name. Quite a gaffe on his part, but he just let this one slip as he inspected it further, when he realized something.

"Did he, by any chance, tell you how I'm supposed to use it?" Seeing that she already trailed off to her tent, Aleko did the same. His mind chewed on the day's bits of information in contrast with the fundamental doubts of his presence within this life-changing situation. He deepened his thoughts as he laid down to sleep in his tent, plagued by doubts of his own capabilities, of his fitfulness within the larger scope of the campaign. Sure, he could manage skirmishes, but entire wars? An entire Empire? He was but a boy of noble descent that knew how to handle a rifle with accuracy and how to defeat people in melee bouts; sure, he knew how to dance and how to act diplomatically, but these alone didn't make him fit for the crowned head of an empire. Quite ironically, the nightmare nagged at him just with these thoughts. He should have known better not to let himself sleep, for he had to remain focused for the next day.

Day 7

-Battle of Castle Northspark-

The heir peered into the fire, having the urge to just sit down and steal some more time of slumber, but his attention was needed for the rest of the day, the whole operation depended of his effectiveness up on the castle walls. There was a frown of his angular eyebrows over a pair of blood-injected icicle eyes, dark semi-circles dug under his lower eyelids contrasted the white coat of thin fur on his halfling face. Steam formed as he sighed through his nose before he swallowed a mouthful of the washy tasting broth, that luckily still had some heat to it to warm his insides. He looked down at the discolored liquid in his bowl to drive his rough spoon and take more of the broth, feeling blessed by the Gods to have found a stray carrot in there to enjoy something different to taste. To his disgust, it had a very earthy tinge to it. Hearing the yawn behind him, he turned his body to noticed the general doing the first womanly thing he ever saw at her, tying up her hair.

“Good morning, sire. You’re an early riser today. Anxious about the fight?” She asked the canine as she approached him.

"Good morning, general." He replied with a rough voice. "Any day's a good day to die, why would this one be any different?"

"No signal so far, huh?" She asked, glancing in the direction of the fortress. Aleko shook his head and blinked slowly.

"Nothing yet. They only had a few hours to do anything before the main force had woken up." He uttered.

"The troops from the castle probably already left or are leaving soon. We would still need to wait for them to put some distance from the fortress, lest they get their own signal and suddenly make a 180 and charge at us in the worst possible moment.”

"That wholly depends on the agents. If they put up the signal before the troops get any distance, they will see it and make that turn, yes."

A rather loud grumble noise interrupted the conversation, the shepherd turned his snout down at the feline.

“Hehehe… Guess I should grab some of that dried meat. Excuse me, sir.” Bulkwyn giggled at her hungering stomach, the dog also let himself amused by it and grinned.

"Better than this tap water with freshly unearthed carrots." Aleko commented as she walked back to her tent, rummaging through her rations. Getting to see her in her natural habitat explained her demeanor a lot, and in a sense, he could see himself in her personality. He too felt a lot more comfortable here and of course he looked for this sort of comfort when he found himself aboard the ship. Maybe she didn't quite know how to adjust her behavior in front of others, but neither did she care about it. It was an unhealthy sort of honesty.

While she had her breakfast, the canine stared at the fortress, taking in its shapes and visible structure. He tried to envision himself crawling on the top of those walls and sneaking down the towers, muffling the clattering of his armor from any possible enemy guard patrolling the area. After that, he mentally placed himself skulking in the courtyard through the tightest crannies to reach one of the gates of the fort, deal with the guards there and open the gates for the main force to swarm inside and aid with the takeover. The general eventually joined him, he kept his gaze affixed to the military structure and kept pondering on how to proceed once inside, balancing the range and deadly effectiveness of the rifle with the stealthiness, yet more dangerous to maneuver longsword.

“Have you already picked the three lucky blokes to accompany you in your operation?” She asked, genuinely curious of his choice. To that, Aleko could only open his eyes wide, realizing that he completely forgot about the fact that he won't be alone up there.

"Bollocks, I haven't." He replied, lowering his gaze at the ground. "I've-" been troubled by doubts. I may be able to take this castle, but will I be able to take Avalon?. "I suppose it's prime time I pick my three men. Allow me a moment."

With that, he walked off, leaving his empty bowl behind to go find the nearest sergeant of the Elite Rangers company Bulkwyn commandeered. He approached an amalgam of tents that seemed to from a platoon of rangers, where he immediately spotted the individual differing from the rest thanks to a subtle insignia on both pauldrons; the infantry leader immediately noticed the white-furred heir and immediately dropped the whetstone he used to sharpen his falchion to throw his hands at his back to salute his superior. Aleko did the same, showing mutual respect for each other's rank.

"At ease, sarge." He uttered before he walked closer to him and grabbed at his own belt strap holding his own dual-ringed longsword on the right side of his hip.

"I'm going knee-deep in hell and I'm looking for three unlucky sods to follow me." He explained himself, the stout, ginger-furred male cat nodding at him. "Can you point me to your best scouts?"

"Aye, milord, that I can." The feline turned his head towards the camp and whistled at the rangers playing card games on several stumps. They all raised their heads, some even stood up to present their own reverence in front of the Emperor. "Hardpaw, MacFinlay, Borland, hut-hut!"

Aleko saw three men from different locations of the camp jog towards the two and quickly line up in order by height in front of the emperor. A scarred lynx, a white-furred wolf with a more sandy shade of blonde hair and a stern-faced mink, a rather mismatched trio Aleko had to judge and pick.

"Milord, all three of 'em 've seen combat and tactics in their life. Finla-"

"Thank you, sarge." The canine interrupted, lifting a hand before pointing his finger at the lynx. "Hardpaw. At ease and as you were." The sergeant raised an eyebrow as the Emperor sent off the lynx. Aleko glanced at the sergeant, then back at the two remaining rangers. "Scars mean that he had been seen and hurt before. Taking one to the face can only mean you've been careless. You three will do."

"Sir, yes milord!" The three quickly replied, to which the heir lifted his hand and shook his head.

"While you're under my command, you will address me as sir, Commander, or by my designation, Frost. Present yours."

"Thunder." Replied sergeant Yearling with a nod.

"Meek." Uttered the pint-sized mink in a surprising baritone.

"Bedpan..." MacFinlay admitted, obviously unenthusiastic about his alias. Aleko cocked his head back at him, Meek had to hide a grin under his lowered muzzle. The shepherd's eyebrows raised, his mouth gaping slightly at the wolf's accomplishment. He could only suspect just how he had been decorated with such a unique, glorifying code name and chose not to ask any further details.

"Well, Bedpan-" he nearly lost his composure and chortled on the spot "-I do appreciate having the creative sort under my command." He cleared his throat and gave them all a long glance. Their personalities were very different from those he worked with in the past, but they all were rangers. His rangers. Aleko spent several minutes divulging the infiltration and conquer plan to his newly formed fire team, all nodding and paying attention to the words of their leader, Commander Frost. Once done there were only a couple of questions regarding equipment and method of entry.

"As long as your weaponry is made for personal defense and not battlefield-only application, you may bring anything that suits your ability. In essence, that excludes pole-arms of any sort, greatswords and cannons. Anything else is suitable. Even bedpans." The wolf was obviously displeased of the quip, but the rest of the fire team could share a chuckle of their relaxed, but serious Commander. "Method of entry will be elaborated by the infiltrators that are now inside those walls. Once we are given the signal, we will approach the fortress in that specific direction and look for the secret access inside the fortress. Is everything clear? Any other questions?"

Once he had finished with them and exchanged salutes, Aleko returned to the general to report his choice. From there, there was only a matter of time to wait until the signal arrived. And it did, several hours later. Once he had seen it, he latched his armor tighter than before, tightened the straps of his longsword scabbard, dagger sheath and sidearm tucked under his dagger. He found his three men, all clad in their own sets of typical Elite Ranger armor ready to follow him to the castle and start working. There were very little words exchanged between them as they advanced towards the fortress through the shrubbery, stepping on thorns and rocks and moss, covering their armor with ripped leaves and sap, to reduce the reflection of light. Aleko appreciated them being silent as they walked behind him in a wide formation, each determined to do their task with professionalism in front of the Emperor himself. Aleko glanced through the eye-slit of the visor at the men to his right and left, seeing them advance with the buttstock of their rifles pressed against their shoulders, yet, the tip of the barrel pointed downward, their indexes off the trigger, as any serious ranger should be brandishing their highly lethal firearm.

This feels so good. He thought to himself, smiling in the confinement of his faceplate. This is home. This is what feels right. This defines me.

They quickly found themselves at the base of the wall where the signal had been put off, their backs pressed against the cemented stone.

"What're we expectin' precisely, Commander?" Inquired the sergeant as he looked around him, the feline kneeling with his rifle still in resting position.

"Drows." Aleko replied in a whisper, looking up at the wall. "Or a tunnel. Or a crumbling wall to reveal a secret entrance, with poorly disguised dark elves. Anything."

"Knowing those dark elves, they got in prostituting themselves to the worms." Commented Meek in silence.

"If they didn't dig themselves through like worms." Added Bedpan in a hushed tone.

"That's why I suggested a tunnel and poorly disguised dark elves, now close those muffs, soldiers, or they'll shove their poisonous pricks down the hatch." The team could barely contain their amusement, until they saw a head peer down at them, moment in which they all froze in place. They relieved their stress in unison as two ropes unfolded down the wall. Aleko and Bedpan quickly knelt and cupped their hands so that the other two could spring up and reach for the ends of the ropes. Yearling jumped off Bedpan's hands and shoulder and successfully latched onto the rope. Meek, being on the shorter side, had to step on the Emperor's head to catch the rope. Aleko grunted as he felt his muzzle bump against the bascinet and sighed to himself as he watched the mustelid aptly walked up the wall and stretched an arm downwards. Sure, he didn't have a large body to drag after him in his ascent, but he had to sustain Aleko's. The canine took momentum by taking a few steps back, then, charge at the wall and jump up it, grabbing for Meek's arm, which clasped together. Thunder managed to grab hold of Bedpan also. Aleko quickly crawled up and over Meek in a few painful moments, but he managed to get enough distance from the mink as he scaled the castle wall. The view slowly become a frightening one, falling from up there would definitely be fatal for the canine, but he kept his focus on his muscles as they pulled him up the wall, his feet pushing and keeping his balance. In no time, he walked between the crenelations of the wall and knelt on one knee, quickly taking his rifle back in his arms. Soon, the rest of his fire team finished the ascent and quickly pulled the ropes back up. The Commander met with the disguised elf and listened to his report.

"Good work, brother." Frost congratulated the elf. "Now take some time to rest, we will take over from here." He then turned his attention to the three anthros.

"You heard him, three more guards on the North and East side. We split now, take the lookouts and secure the gates. Thunder, Meek, you take the North lookout and the entrance that's there, the back one. Bedpan, you're with me, we take down the two on East and the front gate. Questions? No? Move out, Rangers lead the way."

And off they were in separate directions. Aleko and MacFinley advanced towards the tower, which they quickly secured and checked it to be clear. They both inspected the exit door towards the Eastern wall, where they saw one of the guards stand still and watch the world below, the other seemed to be approaching them. The Emperor could feel that dread in his stomach, the sort of fear that made him grow determination to succeed and avoid danger and death. He was in a tower of an enemy fortress, albeit less impressive than Kyrm. The peril was still there, especially since there was still daylight.

"Sir, he's approaching, what do we do?" Bedpan asked as he inconspicuously peeked through the frame of the door as he knelt at the opposite side of his commander. Frost glanced back at the tower, to look for any hiding spots that they could use to surprise the incoming guard. Seeing nothing but a desk, a drawer, some drapes and an old shield, the halfling came up with a more unorthodox plan.

"He's going to enter the room. You trip him, I lock his head and throw him down, then you knock him unconscious."

"Have you... tried this before, sir?" Asked Bedpan.

"In my imagination, yes." Aleko replied. MacFinlay swallowed dryly.

The guard was close enough to have his footsteps echo through the tower. As soon as the tip of a boot crossed the door frame, the wolf extended both of his legs, against which the lookout managed to bump into and lose balance. Aleko caught him quickly and redirected his fall inside the tower, so that the other guard won't outright hear his colleague topple over. As soon as the humanoid embraced the floor and kissed it hard, Bedpan jumped out and tightly grasped the buttstock of his weapon; due to his rather rushed approach, the wolf managed to trip over the guard's own legs and fall flat on top of him, bumping his helmet against the temple of the downed foe, essentially knocking him out cold and leaving an ugly dent in the skin. The wolf rolled on his back and grabbed his helmet, his legs curling as his muffled groan expressed sheer pain. The other canine slapped the faceplate of his own helmet in annoyance before he turned his gaze back at the window slit; he crawled himself there to see the other guard lean his head to see what was the origin of the sound. Of course, he too started walking towards them, but this time he didn't have Bedpan's cultivated skills in subtlety on his side. Aleko pushed himself into the wall and slowly unsheathed his dagger, which he dubbed Pickpocket. He didn't use it to cut purses and steal money, but the blade definitely served a more sinister purpose. He saw with the corner of his eye, through the slit, as the guard rushed inside and saw the mess sprawled on the floor.

"Wha' in th' world's goin'- who are yo-" He couldn't finish his sentence, as Aleko lunged from behind to wrap his gauntlet against his mouth. He lifted his shoulder and drove his arm at his confused foe, driving the pointed tip of his dagger through the chain mail, effectively piercing and breaking several interlinking chains as the blade sunk into the raw flesh of the neck hidden under the multiple layers the gambeson offered. It wasn't enough to save his life, as blood sprayed out when the halfling drew his dagger out and shoved the man down. The guard managed to crawl a few paces forward, gurgling on the blood flooding his larynx. Soon, the insufficient amount of blood reaching his brain had dragged the opponent into unconsciousness, which would soon turn into coma. Then, non-existence. A sigh could be heard from the shepherd as he knelt beside the guard and cleaned the blade of his dagger against a piece of cloth before he tucked it back in its sheathe. He then pointed his finger at the other one.

"I suggest you do the same. They sleep for only so long."

Bedpan could only groan in pain.

With their wits recovered and guards eliminated, the two descended on opposed flights of stairs leading towards the main gate. They had arranged to each take down two of the guardsmen, by distracting one, executing the other, then, return to the first one. Simple enough in design, application would definitely be less clean. Aleko uttered a few words, which drew the attention of one guard, MacFinlay mimicked a man crashing and hitting something. Bedpan swiftly executed his guard by driving his dagger right in the eye of his enemy. Aleko wasn't as lucky: he had to drop his dagger and draw his longsword out, quickly sliding his left foot behind to balance himself out in a steady stance, his arms lifting the long-bladed sword with trained elegance in a high guard against the spear. Knowing that he would lose the fight fast while trapped in the tight spot, he rushed into his foe by swiftly battering the spear against the wall with a curt snap of his wrists, aiming the blade downwards and to his right, from where he quickly wrapped his left gloved hand against the flat of the blade to fall into half-swording. The canine roughed up the guard, forcing him back out. The other guard Aleko was supposed to take down quickly lowered his spear, befuddled by the sudden action, while the one Bedpan was supposed to take down started to dash to the side and towards the inner gate to warn the others, but to his dismay, he found himself tackled by a pouncing ranger and slammed against the floor. The other canine managed to sink the tip of his longsword above his enemy's collar bone, but he had to reel away as the second spear head threatened to drive itself into him. He soon realized that he could have taken that hit with no repercussions, as it would have glanced off his plate armor.

Now, he had two men with spears pointed towards him, a situation in which he wanted to pull his handgun out and execute them on spot, but that would have made quite an audible racket. The two tips lunged at him at random intervals, unable to catch a moment to charge in for a counterattack. He returned to a normal grip of the sword and fought off the spear heads with quick snaps, engaging his elbows and wrists in the parries. He kept himself skittering away from corners and walls, as to not trap himself in a fatal situation, but this stalemate was finally put to an end as Bedpan appeared in the scene, twirling a falchion around his body as a menacing distraction for his opponents. The wounded spearman turned his attention to the wolf, taking a quick, but failed jab at him, Bedpan now essentially assaulting the man with slashes left and right. Aleko took this as an opportunity to batter away the remaining spear with a lot more force, free enough to put his entire body into the strike by winding up his entire torso in the directing of the sideways cut. As the spearman forced the shaft back in a guarding position, Aleko lunged forward and latched his left hand against the shaft of the spear, the right hand cocking the longsword over his left shoulder before he launched a curt cleave downwards, inflicting a snap-cut at the spearman's glove; the momentum, the weight, balance and sharpness of the blade were enough to dig its tip into the wrist and cut connection of the first three fingers from the spearman's right hand. There was a grunt of pain, but it was silenced as his mouth had been filled by a right-side steel pauldron smashing against his teeth and nose, sprawling him on the floor. The canine didn't waste any more time and half-sworded again as he dropped his knee against the man's chest and drove the tip of the blade into the downed foe's throat three times.

Bedpan was parrying the spear expertly, but the limited reach of his flachion prevented him from advancing on his foe to finish the job, his lunges and graceful snaps of the wrist were simply not enough to cover the length as the slender blade swirled and cut through the air with a high-pitched whoosh. Then, it would cry a metallic clang as the spine slapped the shaft away at Bedpan's twist of the arm while changing the fore leg of his stance from left to right. Suddenly, the next jab didn't arrive. When he lifted his gaze, he saw the tip of a pointy blade protrude through the throat of the spearman. The wolf understood what happened and gave his blade one last forceful twirl, launching blood stains off the steel blade. Aleko drew his longsword out and lifted his visor, revealing a panting canine.

"The winch is on my side." He declared through his panting. "Hold your ground until I open the gate and the rest of the forces arrive." He quickly turned to run back up the stairs, swishing his own longsword to the side to throw the drops of blood off the tapering blade.

MacFinlay dashed to the enemy he wrestled with and quickly drew his dagger out of his face with a sickening crackle of the cracked skull. He sheathed both of his bladed weapons and took position in the doorway to his flight of stairs, where he pulled his rifle from his back by its sling and gripped it tightly as he waited for the emperor to open the gate. He could hear the chains creak and groan before they made the rather obvious racket as the thick metallic fence lifted up; Bedpan briefly glanced over his shoulder at the outside world before he drove his attention back forwards. Soon, the heir arrived and took the same stance as MacFinlay, only on his side.

"D'you think Thunder and Meek managed to open their gate?" Asked the shepherd as he tilted his head to the side a little to take a better look of the courtyard.

"Sure hope they did, sir." Replied the wolf. His head cocked up as he heard the blare of a war horn that wasn't familiar to them. "Oh, bloody bollocks, we're compromised!" The wolf yelled over the horn, his voice breaking in a squeak of frustration.

"Hold position until reinforcements arrive!" Frost yelled, gritting his teeth as he fought the numbing wave of fear washing over his body, cold sweat trickling down through his fur at the thought of facing the remaining defensive force for themselves before their own main force could reach the castle.

"Conserve ammo an-" but he couldn't finish his sentence as he noticed a musketeer rushing across the courtyard.

Aleko tried to pelt him, a deafening blast of fire shooting a medium caliber bullet down the courtyard, but a few paces in front of the rushing musketeer. He saw him topple down, dropping the aged rifle, then try to crawl away from the line of sight. Then appeared the several batallions of spearmen falling into formation, MacFinlay's frame recoiled a couple of times in tandem with two more blasts before he quickly turned his exposed body to safety, a musket projectile crashing through the stone corner, dust and bits flying in the air and on the cobblestone. Then, a lick of fire trailed along the walls, at which point Aleko remembered Pepper's warning; he pivoted 180^o and threw himself on the floor, landing against the first few steps leading up on the wall, where he covered his head as the ball of fire collapsed in itself, then, expand in a large explosion of flames. The heir managed to survive the blast and rolled on his back, immediately spotting a panicked Bedpan clutching his rifle as he tried to push himself up the stairs.

This is not good, Aleko thought to himself. "Bedpan! Run for the towers, we can't han-" but his voice was covered by a thunderous crowd of voices, his heart freezing in place. But soon, he felt himself reanimate as familiar troops swarmed inside the castle. He guffawed and whooped as he pushed himself off the stairs, feeling more alive than ever. This is what I am. He retook his position, the general appearing once more in the frame. For once, he was really glad to see her; they only exchanged glance before each had taken aim for the more important targets. Aleko used his intuition, and his acute vision, to line up the sights again, pinpointing the head of a musketeer; not knowing what he would do next, he simply squeezed the trigger of the firearm, the buttstock kicking his right shoulder as the barrel launched the round down the courtyard. He saw a spark where the round landed on the breastplate of the man, but then, he saw a hole in the plate and his coif falling off, a large, fleshy wound taking half of his foe's face. the bullet split most likely and completely ruined the target. He leaned some more until he had another musketeer at his sights and pulled the trigger again, unflinching at the blinding flash of light and deafening boom; another toppled to the ground lifeless. He fired again, missing his target by mere inches, as he was forced to reel behind cover as a salvo of musket rounds pelted the stone walls. Once it was safe to creep out again, Aleko leaned his whole torso and took another aimed shot, putting down a spearman instead of a musketeer.

A loud clang took his attention, as the last spent case flew out the receiver and bounced against the wall. He forced himself on his hind on the stairs, where he slapped his palm against a knob in front of the ammunition magazine. The empty metal box with a spring and metal feeder fell in his lap, he quickly recovered it and shoved it in a large, empty pouch slung on the small of his back. He shoved his fingers in a different pouch and pulled a full magazine, the copper bullet protruding from the box; he tapped it against his head a couple of times before he loaded the fresh ammo in the magwell and pulled at the bolt, chabering the first round in the receiver. Before he could join the fight again, the general pushed him further away as fire rained from the skies. He then had a facefull of Bulkwyn yelling a plan him, which in the heat of the moment, Aleko accepted without thinking how exactly he would do it. He only did it, like a true soldier. He rushed up the stairs leading to the top of the wall and promptly tumbled in a crouched stance, pushing himself against a crenelation. He peeked from behind it to memorize where the mages were holed up; with adrenaline replacing his blood, the shepherd rushed towards the tower entrance, keeping himself crouched through his flanking maneuver. The armor seemed to allow even the most uncomfortable stances to be carried, as Frost cradled the rifle against his chest while he scurried up the stairs in the same low-profile posture.

Eventually, he reached the top, the wizard in front of him, another in the distance promptly eliminated by the general. The canine didn't waste a second and pushed himself on his feet to dash at the magic-wielding foe. Very late did he realized that if he rammed the mage off, he would have followed him in the fall, so he had to stop his advance and still neutralize him without opening fire.

Gods, forgive my cretinism. The shepherd sprung up and brought the soles of his boots close together, aiming them at the back of the wizard and flexed his knees. As soon as the flying dog felt the jolt of his feet connecting with the back of the battle-mage, he grunted loudly as he mule-kicked the man off the platform to his doom below, the heir landing on his belly on the floor in a loud clatter of armor crashing against stone. The inertia of the target was enough to stop the shepherd from flying down in the crowd, but the wizard was less lucky. Aleko rolled on the floor until his body hit a wall and pushed himself back up on one knee. He gasped and shook his head, the shock of the hard landing getting to him, but he quickly lifted his rifle towards another mage through a murder hole, dizzy and half-blind; there was no time to lose, so Aleko gritted hard as the butt of the riffle pounded his shoulder five times, firing the entire five bullet magazine at the last wizard perched on the top of the other tower. He couldn't tell which shot got him, but in the end, he succeeded in neutralizing both of his targets. It took him a while to come to the realization that the plan was an utter success, being too busy to reload his rifle as he rushed back down the stairs and into the courtyard, where he saw the massacre the two-pronged attack left behind.

"We... we did it." He muttered before he took a deep breath and drew back his head to look at the sky, steam rolling out through the slits of the faceplate. "Northspark's ours."

He took the hours of winding down to help with the bodies and organizing the defenses of the castle, but he allowed himself to sit down and enjoy the bittersweet taste of victory. He perched himself on a small crate, together with two of the rangers of his fire team.

"To Meek." Aleko uttered, his eyes avoiding to meet Thunder's as he lifted a cup of water. "Ranger, lead the way home."

"Ranger, lead the way to heavens." Thunder and Bedpan completed, lifting their own cups. The feline smacked his lips and shook his head.

"Basterd pile o' cow shit pretendin' to be dead n' stab 'im in the back." He snorted in disdain and shook his snout again, a sour smirk taking over half of his feline maw. "Feckin' lowlife."

MacFinlay could only gaze into the rippling surface of the liquid in his own cup, his nose wrinkling at the thought of the rather inglorious way his comrade had fallen. Aleko sighed and closed his eyes, lowering his gaze into the ground, his boots swinging back and forth alternatively. Event though he couldn't have known him, he felt the loss personally; he had been trained to treat the entire Elite Ranger force as a massive band of brothers.

"Brothers of the same whore of a kingdom, aye-" would say general Hacket "-but still brothers we are. So you'd all better act like it."

Thunder finished his cup and placed it on the crate as he slid off it. "Requesting permission to shut-eye, sir." He muttered, saluting his Commander. Aleko lifted his gaze at him, finding his golden eyes. He could see that there was no resentment for him, after all, it had been a dangerous mission; even so, guilt still clung to him.

"Granted, sergeant. Pristine work. Go do some rack ops." The shepherd replied to him, then, turned his attention to the wolf. "You should hit the fart sack too, Bedpan."

MacFinlay shrugged and took a reluctant sip of his water. "All due respect, but I can't sleep properly between tasks, sir." To that, Aleko smirked.

"Just like me. Can't get sleepy after pitching a tent?"

"No sir." MacFinlay stated, chortling lightly. "Too many pricks around to think about women. And way too many of us had general Bulkwyn in our minds to be fun anymore."

"Oh, gods." Aleko coughed up his sip as he tried to stifle his laugh to not coke on his water.

"Apologies, sir. I, uh, forgot that-"

"I'm your superior?" Aleko completed. MacFinlay looked up at him, his mouth gaping a little at the fact that the Emperor read his mind. "I was only a lieutenant when the wizard plucked me from my duty in a small town. Today was the first day I had an army under my belt. Which was still led by a general, so I cannot really take a lot of credit for our success today."

"Well, we did knock over some guards." Bedpan commented, having a glad attitude about himself.

"Knocking them over would be an understatement, Bedpan." Aleko stated, lifting his eyebrow. The wolf then shrugged at his commander.

"Better than knocking them up, I suppose." To that, the shepherd lowered his head and clapped his forehead with his palm, snickering at the jest. "What? It's horrible if you think about it, a two-men-made child waiting home for you to return. Half of your wage would be eaten away by the man-bride back home, and for what? For a deformed sprogget with two cocks?"

Aleko couldn't hold it anymore and burst out in a hearty laughter, unhinged by the doubts and fears of tomorrow; he was glad to have found a moment of relaxation through a shared laughter with a just-as-tired comrade. Bedpan also startled to chortle, which quickly turned into a laugh too.

Later, the light-hearted ambiance had been replaced by planning and tension together with the general.

“Apologies, sire. Those were good men and their loss is on my head. I will do my best to prevent such needless casualties in the future, I promise.”

"General, they were my men too. Responsibility is ours, not only yours."

"Well…I guess we should get some rest. I’ll have some men keep watch. The flag will also be changed come tomorrow morning, when the main force with their general will return they will have quite the shock when they discover they no longer have any fortified position to hide behind.” A faint, almost forced, smile made its presence on her nuzzle.

"If we weren't trying to convince them to surrender, we would have welcomed them inside and murder them all from all directions." Aleko then waved his hand dismissively. "Pay no mind, that is revenge talking."

“Despite everything, today we achieved victory.” She bowed “It was an honor to fight alongside you, sire…now…if you will excuse me..”

Aleko bowed too, noticing the less enthusiastic attitude of the woman. "I'm honored to have served with you, general." I had my doubts, but you're not half-bad. You've lost someone dear to a fight against war-mages, haven't you?

With the eventful day coming to an end, Aleko spent most of his times inside the sleeping quarters, honing the blade of his sword and cleaning the barrel of his rifle and the blade of his dagger; he had something to sup on before he washed the sweat of the day off his fur and lay on the bed. There, he rewound the entire infiltration and elimination process, feeling more and more grateful to have made it alive and unscathed even. One of these days, my luck will run out, he told himself as he looked over his own furred torso. More and more images flashed in his mind of the brief scuffle in the courtyard, the mages, how he dropped one... there he remembered, maybe he would still produce a nice bruise on his chest after that. He then remembered about Bedpan and his clumsy antics, chuckling himself to sleep.

Where did he start and where had reached. An unwanted child turned soldier, then, Emperor spearheading a new faction. Although it felt like the beginning took place eons ago, it had been but a week. Seven days, from the rest of his life.

[Zamokra41] - Avalon Empire - [MachineSoul]

Aleko "Frost" Sendrakon

25 Years of Age

Halfling (Human and White Shepherd mix)

Appearance

Aleko stands at a height of 185 cm, averagely built and straight-backed. Being a halfling, he shares distinctive characteristics of both races that mixed to create him: his body is humanoid and tall as a human, has no tail, covered with a short, very fine, clean and carefully trimmed pure white fur with no thicker spots on his chest, underarm, groin or back area; his head bares a canine snout and a pair of triangular ears, but his face isn't as rough and animalistic as a pure blood anthro, it is much more refined. His jawline, eyes, cheek gaunt and forehead are shaped by his human genes, forming a charming harmony between the two extremities, a particularity all halflings are fortunate to enjoy. His eyes are blue and the blonde mop of hair on the top of his head resembles human hair, combing and fixing it to flow upwards and to the side to cherish his generous forehead and the complementing angular shape of the blonde pair of eyebrows.

Personality: Down to earth, stern, disciplined, dedicated, just and very stubborn, so stubborn that some mistake him for being dumb. Innovative and progressive thinker, he excels when given a very tight situation. Very emotional, to the point that almost every affront he receives, he considers it to be very personal; although he masks his emotions, everything that upsets him pools up inside him and erupts from time to time in nearly violent outbursts. He knows not to show this weakness of his in front of anyone, but should he crack up, he will take his rage out one way or another, despite all the discipline that has been soldered in his thinker.

History

Aleko was raised in a relatively wealthy, noble family of anthros back on their home island. His birth brought a storm inside the family, as most of the seniors saw this cub's existence as a direct insult to their lineage; his human traits were obvious enough to rupture the union between the families, tearing the marriage and leaving the child with the defamed mother. Her own family did not shun the poor woman, instead, helped her raise the, otherwise, beautiful child. Although he was named Aleko Farland Hyde the IIIrd, he quickly received his specific nickname of "Frost" or "Frosty" due to his white, reflective fur; while there were other half-breeds in the community he grew up, people still gave him weird looks since his father's identity was not truly known, other than the fact that he must have had been a human with blonde hair and green eyes. He didn't quite understand why he was so different until later in his life, when he came all by himself to the conclusion that his own mother had been unfaithful to her husband, giving birth to an illegitimate offspring; distraught and shaken to the core, Aleko degraded himself to a level lower than earthworms, causing emotional instability and the constant sense to prove himself worthy and the fight to make everyone around him happy enough to accept him the way he was, with his dark origins.

At a later age, his mother insisted to her child to follow a military path in his life, and like the well-mannered son he was, he accepted in a heartbeat. Up to that point, he showed great potential to become part of the military force, being able to beat down even the largest of the back-yard brats using his ingenuity by using environmental advantages, while at class he was doing best with history, logic class, arithmetics, physical education and foreign languages. His contact with his peers was minimal, but had always been in good terms with them, as he ended up being known as a kid that talks little, but knows quite a bunch and is kind enough to share his desert with the less privileged. It must have been mother's intuition, as Aleko did excellent work during his early ears of military academy, ending up as a prime candidate to become an officer of the Imperial Mechanized Rangers, the elite detachment that trained excellent warriors the expertise of handling semi automatic rifles and assimilating all five major fencing school tomes. Aleko quickly became an adept of long sword fencing and quite a talented shooter, his superior promising that one day he may just become a high-ranking general. As such, he was taught some more refined techniques regarding high social encounters and situations and, most importantly, the Anthro ways of diplomacy and political presence. The Anthro diplomacy structure relies on three key laws to be respected by any Anthro diplomat in order to keep good relation with other diplomatic envoys:

1. Eloquence is a virtue of language and culture, the more intricate a statement is, the greater the chance for one to not fully understand your motives and accept your idea as is
2. Please everyone else first, then thyself; this is the only way for everyone to achieve good relations and gain benefits from it later
3. Always expect the unexpected, hope for the best and prepare for the worst

But that beautiful life had to be reached with a lot of boring paperwork, errand running and very little real combat. He had seen his share of action on the field, surviving several ambushes and winning quick skirmishes against an opposing party, his ingenuity reaching the maximal peak under the stress of time shortage.

Everything changed the day one peculiar, yet renowned wizard appeared with an urgent message for the young lieutenant. He did not have the slightest clue just how drastically his life would change in one day and the back-breaking responsibilities had to carry on his young, inexperienced shoulders; he could carry the weight, sure, but he also had to use that weight to his advantage and turn the tides of the never ending civil war that engulfed the broken Avalon.

Expertise

Master Grana del Reviera Knightly Tome of Weaponry and Melees
San Florrenzo's Treatise of Military Conflicts, Skirmishes and Warfare: An Officer's Guide to Conquest
Master Winzent GrauFell's Art of Hand and a Half Sword Fencing and Hand-to-Hand Brawling
Enchiridion of War: Beauty in Death, Glory in Blood
Locke Silvertail's Book of Tactics, Logistics and Path to Victory

Engineer's Digest, Issue no. 217: Gentlemen's Rifles and Other Firearms Using Semi-Automatic Feeding Systems

Robban Rocknail's Social Etiquette Throughout Avalon: A comprehensive guide

Mattheanews, Rickertty and Manelock Chronicle of Seven Powers: The Power of Chosen and Unchosen Words

Gear

Ranged, main: ASAR 1044

Ranged, backup: Katzer-8 Pistol

Melee, main: Legacy

Melee, backup: Pickpocket

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

"Attention all civilians. Please go to the nearest shelter. Attention all heroes. Please head to the border of D, B, and E-Districts and head towards the, uh, giant mound of bones. The threat level is: Big-Big City Threat. Man, we rea-

That explained the emergency sirens blaring outside, muffled by the thick walls of the pitch black room. The sound echoed throughout the large emptiness, reverberating against the scattered outlines of objects lying around the place, and the cold, cold walls; the only hint of an organic presence was a calm, albeit odd breathing muffled by a mask. A pair of eyes, concealed by a visor-less mask, followed the headlines and live transmissions over the disastrous event taking place at the key joint of three major districts. A giant serpent, skeletons, a castle, one could find this composition was a very random, if not silly one; but when innocent lives are put in danger by the most random event, it would be taken very seriously by the authorities, and immediately dispatch all heroes that could join the effort. He had observed this city's security protocols in such events, the pattern was obvious enough to him; but the scale of this particular disaster seemed to have called quite a number of heroes to join in the fray, significantly lowering security over the other sectors. A perfect opportunity for more subtle entities to strike out without having to deal with the bothersome league of crime-fighters. No doubt many other villains sought such an opportunity to move in and obtain what ever they wished, RED was no different. What he wanted, though, was to leave an insidious imprint on the populace. Knowing that many would suffer debilitating injuries after this disaster, they would be rushed off to hospitals, some with missing limbs, others with burns, many with lacerations, broken bones, concussions, or worse. There was a sweet time frame between the inception of the calamity and the sudden intake of patients, and it was approaching. He had to act.

A soft material touched the ground in two steps, but then, there was silence again; a dim light revealed the high-roofed metal box of a room being decorated with various weapons, from firearms to medieval maces, from baseball bats to portable missile launchers. Crates lined up the walls, bearing several patches asking for caution when handling the fragile and rather toxic contents; one of them was opened by a pair of metallic hands covered in a very fine material that seemed to dampen the clinketing sound of artificial knuckles, revealing rows upon rows of auto-injecting syringes containing a clear fluid rippling at the echo of the room. One syringe was plucked from its slot and quickly rammed in a port above his collarbone, the liquid instantly shot inside his circulatory system after a hydraulic pump hissed lightly. Another hiss followed as a muffled, digital sigh of relief escaped from the raw throat of the lean-framed humanoid. The soft texture of his suit seemed to absorb light rather than reflecting it, gaps between articulating points showed off an intricate muscle pattern lining the layer beneath the armor padding. The helmet, composed of three interlocking pieces, had only one central slit in the shape of a vertical eye that seemed to give off a feint shade of dark red, but obviously, it wasn't the keyhole the wearer was looking through; there were multiple cameras lined through the helmet offering him a wide field of view of his damp surroundings. But the corners and peripherals were covered with multiple windows that kept him up to date with the downtown disaster, where the situation was slowly escalating.

Then, he saw a white silhouette jump and do a front flip in mid air. He quickly identified the white mane, the over-sized sword, the towering height of the individual; the rest of the heroes that bunched up there didn't matter to him any more, but the one known as White Knight was the center of focus for him. RED's breaths had grown deeper, every exhale and inhale forcing air in and out of his lungs. He could feel the urge to clench his fist and break the empty vial in his hand, he wanted to slam his hands and feet into anything that would break at his rage; yet, his body remained still, the only hint of his rising anger was the heavy breathing.

"So... you are here too." He uttered to no one in particular, his baritone voice heavily modified in an even lower key. "How fitting. How pathetic."

There was no more doubt in his mind. The main health center of District B had to be hit, even if he had to go in broad daylight; he didn't worry though, as he had his ways to access it without walking through any of the doors. He initialized a cracking attempt on the main servers of the architecture company who had the blueprints for the medical center, it was only a matter of time until he had the key to his infiltration route. Maybe his plan wasn't just as flashy as a castle and an apocalyptic snake erupting from the core of the planet, but the impact would definitely be felt.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

I know, I said Friday. It's Saturday morning here, but in US, it's still Friday, so technically, I'm not late or anything. So yeah.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile - Knights of the Last Republic

There was a vast emptiness where life used to flourish, though the nuance of this emptiness didn't suggest absence of life; energy residue marked the former location of tiny pulses within the intrinsic weave of all living matter, interconnected through a veil of vitality. The Force. The veil was perforated, rendered incomplete; loose strands floated separately from the waves of this force, slowly withering and decomposing into particles. There was Force in those particles too, they vibrated, but at a completely different frequency compared with what constituted life. The real tragedy was that the most vibrant strands were those ripped away and thrown in the amorphous mass, strands that felt so painfully familiar.

There is no death, there is the Force.

The Force.

Why can't I feel the presence of the dark? The Sith? Where are they? Where is the darkness?

There's... only the Force.

A green pair of irises reflected the nearly-blinding mass of light surrounding the cockpit, as Aleko's eyelids slowly parted. A low, throaty sigh filled the otherwise cramped compartment, his body perfectly still in the pilot's seat he reclined in. He then blinked heavily, trying to take in the light-emitting, tubular formation his Cutlass was travelling through. He could spot waves and ripples within this odd fabric of dilated space-time weave, rather similar in structure to what he had felt through his mediation. Muscles and bones felt painfully still against the cushions, but they were relaxed and ready to be put in function, his left arm didn't hurt so much anymore. He groaned as he stretched his form, his mind climbing back down into the full awareness of his biological existence. With a slight push of the boot, the pilot seat slid back forward and lifted his torso into a sitting position; knuckles crackled as he clenched his fists before he checked the map to obtain an estimation of his location within the galaxy's rims. The computer predicted that he was roughly five minutes away from Coruscant, enough time to regain mental fortitude and prepare for the disaster he feared to discover.

Did they sack it? He was reluctant to learn the answer.

He looked down upon the Clone Snow Trooper breast plate he had to readjust, and pushed it against himself until it locked in place. The white fabric that made the suit felt better on him since he took of his robes just after he engaged in hyperspace, deciding to wear the stolen attire as Jedi armor. There was still some discomfort at his waist, but that was because of the long, metallic rod decorated with several switches along its length barely fitting in the cockpit. He yet refused to abandon it; his gloved hand clasped the staff and thumbed a groove on its elongated hilt.

Why. Why would they?

A warning signal filled his ears, marking the end of his journey through hyperspace. He had to let go of the hilt to comb his hair with his fingers and then wrap them around the flight controls to maneuver his patrol fighter into a sub-orbital trajectory and reach the Temple. As soon as his ship exited hyperspace and decelerated, he could feel anguish flow in his blood just by looking at the Galactic City's rings and patterns of light texturing the planet. But then, there was a sudden spark, a peak of hope somewhere in the back of his head; there was fear and doubt too, but he could feel them all. He only hoped that whoever was down there could sense his presence too.

Hold tight, he thought with growing hope in his heart, I'm coming.

Aleko took a deep breath and aligned his craft to burn retrograde several huhdreds of Delta-V, as his Navicomputer calculated the flight path towards his destination. He did receive a few intercepting signals challenging him to identify himself and state his intentions, but he refused to return the call and instead closed his eyes; it took him a bit of effort to not let the goody-two-shoes-side of his Jedi training ruin the few moments of inconspicuousness he still had. It didn't take long before he hit the atmosphere at a reasonable speed, his craft didn't start burning through the air; still, he preferred to shave off more of his speed through the natural drag and wait some more before he would take control of it.

He opened his eyes at the second signal and plunged down, his eyes quickly darting at the topside of his cockpit to see two Z-95 trailing him; if they weren't aggressive before, their own sudden change of direction was a big enough hint that they were ready to lase him down. Even though Coruscant was dubbed center of the Galaxy and had some of the best security protocols, one would think that neutralizing a vehicle in atmospheric flight would have devastating consequences; wherever the vehicle would crash, there would be a lot of collateral victims.

But how come they didn't gun me outright in orbit? Aleko pondered. Unless the main forces are busy with the Temple, most of the fleet may be fighting elsewhere. And these two. Are they willing to try to sho- this question was answered by the trails of lasers missing the wings of the Cutlass-9 by a few inches. The Jedi could only grit his teeth as he saw himself being narrowly missed, owing his survival to sheer luck; the next gun run would definitely put him down. There was no real chance for him to outmaneuver humans manufactured to dogfight droid tri-fighters.

"Oh, not good." He muttered to himself, his own voice being the only companion left to keep him from suffering of complete loneliness within this precarious situation.

So, he accelerated and leaned his head forward, his whole body tensing up as he felt himself pushed back into the cushion of the seat. His toes curled in his boots as a protest against the acceleration forces pinning his frame down, his senses sharpened by the bath of epinephrine occurring inside the walls of his skull; his muscles only needed to twitch to change his trajectory in a rather erratic pattern as he gradually lowered his altitude until he could find himself cutting through the highest layer of intense traffic. He knew that they, the two pilots, still tailed him as the comms kept beeping wildly with challenges. Aleko simply turned them off and shook his head.

I suppose it would be obvious I won't stop now.

His Cutlass plunged deeper through the clear patches where vehicles didn't fly, loosing altitude until he could identify people on the surface-level rooftops. He pulled the flight controls towards him hard and prepared for the vertical G's to punish his body for the rather reckless tactic; people screamed as the deafening roar of the twin-engine patrol fighter gave them the scare of their life, the underside scraped some taller antennas and a couple of rooftop edges. The two Z-95's followed up quickly, their more aerodynamic shapes allowed them to take sharper turns, not to mention the wider range of the thrust vectoring engines allowing them to recover from the steep descent. They had finally lost their patience.

A loud alert brutalized the Jedi's ear as the combat computer warned him of multiple missile launches. His heart nearly collapsed at the thought of being detonated by a salvo of missiles trailing his trajectory, only several kilometers away from the Temple itself; it wasn't fear that dominated him, but it was a sense of danger he never had to face before, especially being caught in such a vulnerable situation. There was no way for him to outrun the missiles, he wasn't good enough to dodge them either, especially with the two tails ready to lay more firepower upon him as he would try to fool the missiles. He stalled as much as he could, every second he lived was a blessing from the Force, time in which he tried to appreciate his distance from the Temple, as well as how close the fighters and the missiles were compared to him. When a powerful chill ran down his spine, he knew it was time. He reached at a lever somewhere to the right of the seat, pulled it and braced as the canopy launched itself away with a blast. suddenly, he found himself gripping to his consciousness as he was propelled upwards and away from the now empty fighter, the two dazzled Z-95's zipping past his ejected seat. Moments later, he saw a large ball of flame that used to be his Cutlass-9, followed by multiple detonations sending powerful shock waves, one of them was close enough to rumble and tilt his seat's flight path. He tried to correct it by tugging at a rather small controller on the left side, but there was a very limited amount of movement in the gimbal; the Temple was in sight, it was rather close now. Close enough to see thick clouds of smoke covering parts of the awe-inspiring building. Seeing it peppered, blasted, torn and violated, it hit him. The better part of his childhood had been destroyed, the community that raised him murdered like rabid animals and thrown in a ditch. He ground his teeth and buried his otherwise stern eyes in a dangerous frown as he watched LAAT's come and go, then, the fighters banking for a U-turn.

"Abominations. Monsters!"

After a quick glance at his feet, he determined that the fall would break a few of his bones, if it won't end him outright. On the other hand, he was a rather small, but still easy target to hit. Thus, he found that there could be only one way out. He unbuckled the belt and hoisted himself forward, the direction of acceleration changing quickly after he had departed from the only object that remained of his patrol ship. Another important piece of his fond memories as Jedi knight rendered into debris. He had to focus, though, and hard. He was falling with nothing to slow him down, but the Force. He could already hear the screams of the engines nearing, which meant that they were very close since the air blowing past his ear deafened him. The Jedi found it easier to concentrate on his body in this perilous moment, managing to envision the entirety of his frame landing without injury; focusing on his calm spirit within, he pushed it all into his feet and knees until he could feel them quickly heat up. He opened his eyes in the very last second, seeing himself land on his feet with a rumble, sending a shock wave that lifted the layer dust and the knee-length white cape hanging from the back; he quickly tumbled forwards to keep himself in motion, laser bolts threatened to hit him as evidenced by the explosion of his seat intercepted by one of the sharp-shooting pilots. He didn't knew if he would have been seen landing on the roof, but he dashed towards the nearest tall structure and dropped on his knees, sliding in a cranny that concealed his body from anything that flew above. Seconds later, he heard the screams of engines again passing somewhere above, but he dared not to peak out to see where they were headed. He had to give them time to bugger off.

Time long enough to calm his body down after the escalation of events. He reached Coruscant, the Temple was around 5 klicks away from his spot, he only had to find a safe way to access it.

No. I can't go in, I'll only find corpses and clones. he bitterly thought to himself. Those who are alive... they're seeking refuge away from the surface, obviously.

Aleko sighed, and closed his eyes, dropping his forehead against the ground. Service tunnels. They could lead anywhere.

He took a deep breath and tried again to tune into the weave of life, focusing on his mental voice and his spiritual presence to send out a message to ripple through the veil and, maybe, just maybe, be heard and felt.

The Force is still with us. Where are you headed? Show me the path. I will help.

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

RED

RED

Name:
Akira Kiyotaka

Age:
Presumed over 70

Gender:
Male

Alignment:
Villain

Appearance:
As seen above.

Personality
Akira lets his presence, or perceived lack thereof, to speak about him. He has no problem in conversing with people, as he is known to belittle and berate those who defiantly stand against him. In normal conditions, he is rather secretive about his own identity, those who have talked to him know very little and can assume very little about Akira as he perfectly avoids slipping any hints about himself. His demeanor is a very calm one, some even describe it as a "poker-body", since he rarely slips any gestures or twitches that would reveal his mental status. He shows confidence in his own skills, but never succumbs to arrogance.

Powers:
Undergoing intensive training since infancy, Akira focused on his innate agility and flexibility to become one with the shadows and strike with maximum efficiency when opportunity would arise. Even though his endurance and strength are notable traits, he prefers to keep himself away from head-on combat and instead rely on subtle tactics of subversion, dominating his foes with the help of his intelligence and underhanded techniques. Following a fateful encounter with a notable nemesis, Akira suffered debilitating wounds that had rendered him a cripple, thus, his talents seemed to have been cultivated for naught.

That until his employer offered to replace his lost limbs with bionic ones, and augment his biological frame with state-of-the-art implants to enhance his physical abilities, as well as offering a nearly sentient A.I.-driven user interface. His initial physical prowess had been multiplied sevenfold due to artificial musculature lining his new frame, several layers of carbon nanotube weaving offering him light-weight protection from most physical attacks, while all electronics were coated with insulating materials to avoid malfunctions resulting from electromagnetic pulses or high amp/voltage electrical shocks. He is also capable of generating an EMP blast in a rather limited range.

In essence, he relies on psychological warfare to weaken his combatants before engaging in melee combat, where he uses his speed to wither down his foes until the eventual collapse; he can take quite a beating too, but nothing extraordinary here, as most of his body is machine.

Weapons:

• A pair of custom-made Sai, rather bulky in size, made from durable steel, which are in fact expandable batons with a deployed length of two feet (60 cm), featuring tungsten carbide-laden tip and pommel.
• An experimental, custom forged Ko-Katana made from a combination of titanium (although very tough, it is soft in nature, thus it is used as the core and spine of the blade) and tungsten carbide (very hard and rather brittle material, the very reason why it is used only for the edge and tapered tip of the blade).
• Smoke grenades
• Shurikens
• Metal knuckle sandwiches

Fighting Style:
RED prefers to take advantage of his inhuman speed to overwhelm his foes with constant pressure. For most of his fights, he prefers to use his Sai for the traumatizing, blunt impact, favoring the potential of breaking and crackin bones, tenderizing muscles, pop veins and arteries, and split skin open. He includes hand-to-hand combinations in the mix too, kicking like a bulldozer at the rate of jackhammer and slamming fists and elbows with the determination of a sledgehammer.

If push comes to shove, he will put away his Sai and draw his blade. At this point, Akira is no longer considering the scuffle an amusing game to undermine his opponent; he will strike to kill. His sword combinations come at a slower pace, calculating his slashes and lunges in a fluid display of kenjutsu mastery.

When in the dark, the game changes dramatically. He will set up traps, startles, he will even pelt the target with shurikens. When his hidden presence is acknowledged, he will taunt, intimidate, berate as he sees fit and until he is satisfied.

Signature Moves:
Lights out - Akira uses the darkness to his advantage to input the first strike, but not before he had withered the mental status of his opponent. If he can lower the light conditions, he will cut electricity, break lights, cover windows, do whatever necessary to create deep, dark shadows for him to lurk in. This move exploits the advantages the terrain/area offers him, and he will not shy away from using this advantage to gain the upper hand.

Sore surprise - He will fight with his Sai in their undeployed form most of the times, but as a surprise factor, he will launch the expandable interlocking rods to full length to gain tremendous amounts of reach over his foe.

EMP Release - Self explanatory, it takes a lot of his mental fortitude to output and recharge.

Primal Instincts Suppression - Technology has reached to the point where artificial limbs are able to perfectly substitute the lost ones, with a complete set of sensors for tactile, temperature, pressure, pain and proprioception sensations. Akira is able to shut down his pain sensors and inhibit the fear of pain to drive him towards more risky maneuvers and tactics, willing to put himself into greater dangers to achieve his goals. He will resort to this ability only when he is confident that it will be effective against his opponent.

Overclock - All inhibiting neurological pathways are shut down, full power goes into the advanced muscle work that engorges under the protective layers of light armor and his brain sinks in a sea of forcefully released adrenaline. RED enters a berserk-like state with his entire body, where he is in a complete disregard for his own survivability by dropping all of his defenses and take on a highly aggressive, full-bore, bare-knuckle, rough'n'raw offense to raze all those who brought him in such a desperate state. It is safe to assume that whatever biological material is left in him will be strained by the unnatural modifications and may even drop into shock afterwards.

History:
Records about him are somewhere around one paragraph long, his origins unknown and intentions undecipherable. His criminal record in Megatropolis is absolutely clean, yet, one may never know what atrocities this individual had accomplished elsewhere. The only important hint about his past activities was the name of the employer Akira worked under for a little over ten years: Plan-Zero Security Enforcer LLC, a private military company known to have conducted shady operations in key, conflict-struck locations. There are some medical records about him having to undergo extensive reconstruction and artificial organ transplants, where his name is evidenced; yet, his date of birth still marked as classified information even there.

Due to his affiliation with Plan-Zero, most believe it is safe to assume that Akira is a very dangerous individual, especially since his slate is completely clean; sure, there is enough room there to fill with villainous acts, there may be files about him in other places, but it is suspected that due to his highly inconspicuous nature there is no record of him doing anything at all.

Skills:
Akira is a computer whiz, capable of cracking low-to-mid grade security protocols. He is decent at riding motorcycles and enjoys cooking, even though he has never been caught eating anything.

Weaknesses:
He is limited by having no magical or ki-induced abilities, due to the fact that most of his body had been replaced by cybernetics, but also due to him not being very keen about the whole matter of controlling energy like so. While his suit is durable, Akira folds like paper when faced against raw physical strength. He is known to never express his fatigue, but that doesn't mean he won't be experiencing exhaustion at some point.

Nemesis:
The White Knight - old grudges resurface as the two will acknowledge each other's presence in B-District. The obvious rancor between the two is something that has been forged a long time ago, enough for it to become a very personal issue.

Story Arc Ideas:

• Stashes and deliveries of Neuropozyne (a selective immunosuppressant drug used by patients that suffer from systemic artificial limb/implant rejection) had been ritualistically stolen and compromised by some entity. Hospital resources are growing scarce in B-district at an alarming rate, something has to be done about it.

Other:
Stands at a little under 6 feet (180 cm to be extremely precise)
Avid music lover
Philosophy enthusiast

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

Preeetty edgy

@SilverDawn

Ah, I should have included Linkin Park - Crawling, or Drowning Pool - Bodies somewhere. Now THAT would have been really dank and edgy.

Accepted.

@SilverDawn

Thonks :B

But wouldn't a brittle edge really blow? It would chip a lot when hitting anything on any angle that's not dead on. Plus, repairing a carbide doesn't quite seem that nice. A soft blade would probably be pretty sucky, too.

@SilverDawn

All edges get damaged in time, like it or not. High carbon steel may be the best at the moment, but it can still get damaged easily if the wielder bashes the thing against anything that isn't soft tissue. You just don't go off cutting steel plates with a sword. Titanium would definitely not break or chip, but it would bend like Play-Doh. Tungsten carbide is difficult to repair, yeah, but I had to step up the metalwork a notch if I were to survive against demigods, explosive punches and music.

^{also is a metal knuckle sandwich like a fist with a metallica tattoo in between two slices of bread}

@SilverDawn

It wouldn't be outlandish to have guitars shred and scream at every thrown punch either. Huh, I like that idea.

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

RED

RED

Name:
Akira Kiyotaka

Age:
Presumed over 70

Gender:
Male

Alignment:
Villain

Appearance:
As seen above.

Personality
Akira lets his presence, or perceived lack thereof, to speak about him. He has no problem in conversing with people, as he is known to belittle and berate those who defiantly stand against him. In normal conditions, he is rather secretive about his own identity, those who have talked to him know very little and can assume very little about Akira as he perfectly avoids slipping any hints about himself. His demeanor is a very calm one, some even describe it as a "poker-body", since he rarely slips any gestures or twitches that would reveal his mental status. He shows confidence in his own skills, but never succumbs to arrogance.

Powers:
Undergoing intensive training since infancy, Akira focused on his innate agility and flexibility to become one with the shadows and strike with maximum efficiency when opportunity would arise. Even though his endurance and strength are notable traits, he prefers to keep himself away from head-on combat and instead rely on subtle tactics of subversion, dominating his foes with the help of his intelligence and underhanded techniques. Following a fateful encounter with a notable nemesis, Akira suffered debilitating wounds that had rendered him a cripple, thus, his talents seemed to have been cultivated for naught.

That until his employer offered to replace his lost limbs with bionic ones, and augment his biological frame with state-of-the-art implants to enhance his physical abilities, as well as offering a nearly sentient A.I.-driven user interface. His initial physical prowess had been multiplied sevenfold due to artificial musculature lining his new frame, several layers of carbon nanotube weaving offering him light-weight protection from most physical attacks, while all electronics were coated with insulating materials to avoid malfunctions resulting from electromagnetic pulses or high amp/voltage electrical shocks. He is also capable of generating an EMP blast in a rather limited range.

In essence, he relies on psychological warfare to weaken his combatants before engaging in melee combat, where he uses his speed to wither down his foes until the eventual collapse; he can take quite a beating too, but nothing extraordinary here, as most of his body is machine.

Weapons:

• A pair of custom-made Sai, rather bulky in size, made from durable steel, which are in fact expandable batons with a deployed length of two feet (60 cm), featuring tungsten carbide-laden tip and pommel.
• An experimental, custom forged Ko-Katana made from a combination of titanium (although very tough, it is soft in nature, thus it is used as the core and spine of the blade) and tungsten carbide (very hard and rather brittle material, the very reason why it is used only for the edge and tapered tip of the blade).
• Smoke grenades
• Shurikens
• Metal knuckle sandwiches

Fighting Style:
RED prefers to take advantage of his inhuman speed to overwhelm his foes with constant pressure. For most of his fights, he prefers to use his Sai for the traumatizing, blunt impact, favoring the potential of breaking and crackin bones, tenderizing muscles, pop veins and arteries, and split skin open. He includes hand-to-hand combinations in the mix too, kicking like a bulldozer at the rate of jackhammer and slamming fists and elbows with the determination of a sledgehammer.

If push comes to shove, he will put away his Sai and draw his blade. At this point, Akira is no longer considering the scuffle an amusing game to undermine his opponent; he will strike to kill. His sword combinations come at a slower pace, calculating his slashes and lunges in a fluid display of kenjutsu mastery.

When in the dark, the game changes dramatically. He will set up traps, startles, he will even pelt the target with shurikens. When his hidden presence is acknowledged, he will taunt, intimidate, berate as he sees fit and until he is satisfied.

Signature Moves:
Lights out - Akira uses the darkness to his advantage to input the first strike, but not before he had withered the mental status of his opponent. If he can lower the light conditions, he will cut electricity, break lights, cover windows, do whatever necessary to create deep, dark shadows for him to lurk in. This move exploits the advantages the terrain/area offers him, and he will not shy away from using this advantage to gain the upper hand.

Sore surprise - He will fight with his Sai in their undeployed form most of the times, but as a surprise factor, he will launch the expandable interlocking rods to full length to gain tremendous amounts of reach over his foe.

EMP Release - Self explanatory, it takes a lot of his mental fortitude to output and recharge.

Primal Instincts Suppression - Technology has reached to the point where artificial limbs are able to perfectly substitute the lost ones, with a complete set of sensors for tactile, temperature, pressure, pain and proprioception sensations. Akira is able to shut down his pain sensors and inhibit the fear of pain to drive him towards more risky maneuvers and tactics, willing to put himself into greater dangers to achieve his goals. He will resort to this ability only when he is confident that it will be effective against his opponent.

Overclock - All inhibiting neurological pathways are shut down, full power goes into the advanced muscle work that engorges under the protective layers of light armor and his brain sinks in a sea of forcefully released adrenaline. RED enters a berserk-like state with his entire body, where he is in a complete disregard for his own survivability by dropping all of his defenses and take on a highly aggressive, full-bore, bare-knuckle, rough'n'raw offense to raze all those who brought him in such a desperate state. It is safe to assume that whatever biological material is left in him will be strained by the unnatural modifications and may even drop into shock afterwards.

History:
Records about him are somewhere around one paragraph long, his origins unknown and intentions undecipherable. His criminal record in Megatropolis is absolutely clean, yet, one may never know what atrocities this individual had accomplished elsewhere. The only important hint about his past activities was the name of the employer Akira worked under for a little over ten years: Plan-Zero Security Enforcer LLC, a private military company known to have conducted shady operations in key, conflict-struck locations. There are some medical records about him having to undergo extensive reconstruction and artificial organ transplants, where his name is evidenced; yet, his date of birth still marked as classified information even there.

Due to his affiliation with Plan-Zero, most believe it is safe to assume that Akira is a very dangerous individual, especially since his slate is completely clean; sure, there is enough room there to fill with villainous acts, there may be files about him in other places, but it is suspected that due to his highly inconspicuous nature there is no record of him doing anything at all.

Skills:
Akira is a computer whiz, capable of cracking low-to-mid grade security protocols. He is decent at riding motorcycles and enjoys cooking, even though he has never been caught eating anything.

Weaknesses:
He is limited by having no magical or ki-induced abilities, due to the fact that most of his body had been replaced by cybernetics, but also due to him not being very keen about the whole matter of controlling energy like so. While his suit is durable, Akira folds like paper when faced against raw physical strength. He is known to never express his fatigue, but that doesn't mean he won't be experiencing exhaustion at some point.

Nemesis:
The White Knight - old grudges resurface as the two will acknowledge each other's presence in B-District. The obvious rancor between the two is something that has been forged a long time ago, enough for it to become a very personal issue.

Story Arc Ideas:

• Stashes and deliveries of Neuropozyne (a selective immunosuppressant drug used by patients that suffer from systemic artificial limb/implant rejection) had been ritualistically stolen and compromised by some entity. Hospital resources are growing scarce in B-district at an alarming rate, something has to be done about it.

Other:
Stands at a little under 6 feet (180 cm to be extremely precise)
Avid music lover
Philosophy enthusiast

I hope that this is satisfactory.

I Wanna be a Saikyou HERO! [One-Punch Man Inspired] [Magical Girls, Ninjas, Metahumans and more!]

I find the lack of villains disturbing. I will enlist as one, if I am allowed to join in the grinder.