OwO

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Hollyhock

---

Hollyhock knew of most of the Scions and Templars already. After all, she was a Scion for 16 years. While she hated spending her youth studying unimportant matters, it did give her a healthy knowledge of politics and who was who.

She knew nothing of Ionna besides her appointment. But Ionna gave her cookies which automatically made the frosh Templar her favourite.

Rather predictably, Hollyhock saw Theo approaching and speaking to Commander Fyodor. She knew the bare minimum of the Scion of Fire's background. However, she wasn't going to approach the two veterans. While she was a fan of meat, she preferred it as food and not physique. They had an ominous aura; they were one firm handshake away from their shirts ripping off. Well, at least Theo's was.

Though, she did feel a bit bad for his Templar who had followed him. Rumors of their unfriendly relationship did make their way to Hollyhock's ears. It was unfortunate, but what did Hollyhock know? She grew up sheltered. If she had been fighting against a nation that denounced her beliefs, would she be able to accept someone who was a descendant of that nation?

But the ominous aura kept getting closer. It wasn't coming from the two veterans. It was something far more evil. Someone that stood for everything that Hollyhock despised. Someone who caused Hollyhock to immediately build up her flight response. With a flick of her hand, Hollyhock lowered her veil in preparation for who was to come. While she didn't participate in social media, Hollyhock was cruelly aware of it - and she was fully aware of the constant media spotlight named Miriam Grâce Desrosiers.

Thankfully, Jannick had tracked her down by presumably smelling his way to whatever food source was nearby. His presence was always reassuring. He would leap in front of any photo taken of Hollyhock in a bout of media self-sacrifice. Well, she could dream that he would. It was more likely that his ocular pat-downs wouldn't recognize a danger.

Then arrived a figure to break the ill omen that was an influencer's aura: the young Scion of Light. She truly was radiant. In the way that all children were, at least.

With two and a half cookies in one hand, Hollyhock returned a polite curtsy with cookie-filled hand over heart. Though, she did not raise her long dress enough to show off her choice in footwear. If she had been wearing Weezies, she would have probably lifted her dress enough to show the princess. Unfortunately (more likely fortunately), Hollyhock was rather strict when it came to what she wore. Weezies didn't make the cut.

"And a good day to you, Princess Rosemary."

While Hollyhock would have usually been boringly polite for such an event, the addition of cookies had thrown all formality out of the window. Besides, she was watching the young Scion share in her delight of sweets. Hollyhock couldn't keep up etiquette with something so adorable in front of her.

With Maya came Edmund. Unfortunately, Templars didn't usually have reputations that preceded them unless there was significant politics involved. They were good people who did their job and they didn't often interact with other Scions. Hollyhock listened to his fun fact, curious on what he was like. Of course, his brief reverence to the arts was befitting of someone from Rosaria. Not that she knew where he was born; it just tended to be that most people who referenced sonnets shared her birthplace.

Hollyhock never liked Redcrosse. Though, she had not read his works since she was ten. At that age, she was more entertained by the profanity-littered works of Piedspere. His insight of nature was limited to the sound of breaking wind. However, Hollyhock wasn't about to bring up her childhood enjoyment of classical fart jokes in front of a seven year old princess.

Thankfully, the arrival of Kasper and his friendly offer meant that there was now a wall protecting Hollyhock from Maya's grip of influence. Likewise, one of the two men of the hour arriving would mean that she could more easily escape from the prying eyes of social media.

It was also good to know that Hollyhock's worries were not unfounded. Immediately, they were posing for pictures with hugs and pleasantries. Extroverts like Maya were truly a danger to Hollyhock's personal well-being.

Fortunately for Jannick, Hollyhock didn't bolt away from this danger. When Justinian approached Jannick (Jarric?), Hollyhock threw a bizarre jab at his fun fact.

"And I see you're in the habit of glazing your wild side, your holiness."

Ionna had found a kindred spirit to have an interesting conversation with. Hollyhock was, however, a bit out of her depth listening to them. If one of them brought up the intricacies of such an arm, then Hollyhock would completely lose the plot. While she knew of sculpting and magic, magitech was something she had no idea about.

The World We Left Behind (Steampunk/Sci Fi, Mecha, Adventure, Progressing Technology RP)

maybe

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Hollyhock

---

The sombre air was stifling and cold. The ceremony of bestowal was meant to be a traditional formality. It was the recognition of the obligations and duties of a Templar. This time, it was different. Hollyhock could feel the distrust and anger brush against her exposed wrists. Her loose dress and veil, more formal and darker than usual, comforted her in this atmosphere.

Hollyhock wasn't really a friend of the late Theo. It was strange, wasn't it? A young Hollyhock often saw the Estoran prince as her duties required, yet they had never had childish conversations to fondly look back on. When Theo had become a Scion, they exchanged meaningless pleasantries as people in the same position would. She had never asked about his life, his thoughts, or any such matter. Now she couldn't.

She supposed that perhaps it was for the best that she was distant with the prince. It was better that she felt an empathetic sadness rather than a personal sorrow.

Luckily, her stomach didn't betray her for the bestowal. No rumbles or grumbles to break the solemn ceremony. While it would have usually been ignored, the vestiges of death were apparent in the proceedings. Or maybe it should have. It would have at least kept some eyes off of Tyler.

The year end's itinerary was quite painful for Hollyhock. Having this ceremony at 5 and the procession at 6 made for a very dangerous timeline: it cut directly into her first dinner.

Jannick would know this well. However, not well enough to actually stop her. By the time that the ceremony ended, he would have noticed that Hollyhock had already disappeared.

And where was Hollyhock?

Well, she had reappeared beside Ionna with veil lifted and three cookies: one in each hand and one already in her mouth. Nobody had noticed her arriving and grabbing cookies. She was just there and already eating.

A healthy crunch caused the cookie in her mouth to fall, her already full hands managing to catch it. The gooey treat filled her mouth with the flavours of sweet wheat and chocolate. A smile filled her face as her cheeks were stuffed like a small animal.

She gulped down the cookie, her cheeks as rosy as ever and a streak of chocolate at the side of her mouth.

"I can play a half-dozen instruments, control the wind, and my favourite type of cookie is triple chocolate chunk."

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Hollyhock

Hollyhock Rosaria Malvales

________________________________________ Hollyhock Rosaria Malvales Female | 22 | Rosaria Scion of Wind _______________________________________________ "... Please don't ask me to look after her again." ________________________________________

"If you ask me, all this stuff about nobility and politics is a proper crocka." Holy Sigil Location Hollyhock's sigil is located on the nape of her neck. Appearance At 5'2" with a thin build, Hollyhock isn't an imposing figure. Rosaria's beauty is apparent. While a dull slate, her eyes are still striking by means of a fearless gaze. Her hair naturally curls like her mother's. Her skin is similar to other descendants of Rosaria: a warm glow that has its natural smoothness only disrupted by a natural blush. While the descendants of Rosaria could usually be described as the perfect model, Hollyhock behaviour and style is certainly not fitting with her family. She'd sooner hunch over and flash hand signs to observers than walk with grace. While she appreciates the artistry of fashion on others, she has little care towards her personal fashion. Loose clothes and big hats are her style of choice. Personality Hollyhock is a gluttonous troublemaker. Her interests are typical for one raised in Rosaria: art, music, entertainment, and the like. Where she is unique is her love of food. She loves eating, she loves watching people eat, and she loves being watched eat. For a noble, Hollyhock has little filter or delicacy. She says what's on her mind without caring about the consequences. While she does have the education to act the part as a refined noble, her true self tends to be a lot more vulgar and relaxed. She has an overwhelming desire to not be chained down to anything. This has led to her habit of immediately wandering off the second nobody is looking at her. While she has empathy and a general sense of duty because of her gift, she also doesn't believe she needs to be a pawn in the political games of the Rosarian court. This has left her at odds with her family who have been trying to reap the rewards of her Scionhood. She has a fairly laissez-faire attitude towards the usage of a Scion's elemental magic. If questioned why, she'd respond by asking "if Incepta gave us hands, why would be need permission to grasp?" Hollyhock is fairly pious. Despite this, she doesn't recognize the full authority of the church. To her, the church is an institution of mortals given power by common agreement. She doesn't consider herself divine by virtue of being a Scion, either. She was merely lucky--or unlucky--enough to have a blessing no different than the blessing of human inception. Biography When the previous Scion of wind passed, it was expected that one of her children would manifest as the next Scion. Watchful eyes focused on her kin that were involved in politics. It caused quite a stir when the next Scion appeared in her estranged grandson's family. Hollyhock's family was never involved in the political sphere. While the name of Rosaria carried weight within nobility, it had a caveat: the name of Rosaria held power matrilineally. The second son of the third son of the previous Scion, while bearing the name, did not bear any power or responsibility. Only two generations down from the previous Scion, they were isolated to steward a small township. Her memories of childhood are typical for a noble as they were marked with absence. Hollyhock's earliest memories are of her wet nurse and nannies, not of her mother's care. She could never forget the taste of the desserts her nannies would sneakily give her. That changed on a particularly rainy day. A six year old Hollyhock, the third daughter, had split the clouds because her nanny wouldn't let her walk in the garden. No longer was she the third daughter. No, now she was their golden child. She was now supposed to be the perfect Scion to bring honour and prestige to their family. Her upbringing became rigid. Gone were the lackadaisical days she spent with her nannies. Now she spent every day studying the skills befitting of a Scion without a moment's rest. Her family quickly rose to prominence in Rosaria's court. Their meagre roles as nobles had grown. Every noble family wanted to bask in the prestige and influence that came with the historic title. The world wished to see the young Scion of wind. Media fame came immediately as she was toured around. She received gifts, sure. But they were gifts from other families meant to arrange marriage and alliances. There certainly was more love that she received as the Scion than what she could remember as a young child. But this love was conditional and transactional. Hollyhock grew up with this understanding. It was a shame for her family that Hollyhock wasn't a filial daughter. Instead, what they got was a troublemaker. Someone who was willing to climb out of the window and down trusses to avoid studying. A girl who would sneak into town to buy roasted skewers to eat with paupers. A girl that would leave in the middle of interviews because the lights had begun to bother her. Weapon of Choice Hollyhock uses arrows that she can fling around using magic both elemental and unaspected. She doesn't have a bow, though. Misc. Theme She's been a scion for 16 years. Hollyhock is a surprisingly proficient user of magic since she frequently uses it to escape. She's quite bad at fighting, though. If all eyes are off Hollyhock for a brief moment, she can slip out of an area as though she were a supernatural entity. She's quite talented at various arts from her education as a Rosarian noble. She's good at painting, playing about a half-dozen instruments, and could probably write a play. She's god awful at singing though. Her voice is like a drowning cat. She was quite a famous personality while growing up. Since becoming old enough that her family can no longer drag her around, she became considerably more reclusive from the media. Corsets are met with violence. If Hollyhock has to make public appearances due to her duties as a Scion, she usually wears a veil to at least partially obscure her face.

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

moving la goblina here so i don't have to dig through multiple threads

la goblina

Hollyhock Rosaria Malvales

________________________________________ Hollyhock Rosaria Malvales Female | 22 | Rosaria Scion of Wind _______________________________________________ "... Please don't ask me to look after her again." ________________________________________

"If you ask me, all this stuff about nobility and politics is a proper crocka." Holy Sigil Location Hollyhock's sigil is located on the nape of her neck. Appearance At 5'2" with a thin build, Hollyhock isn't an imposing figure. Rosaria's beauty is apparent. While a dull slate, her eyes are still striking by means of a fearless gaze. Her hair naturally curls like her mother's. Her skin is similar to other descendants of Rosaria: a warm glow that has its natural smoothness only disrupted by a natural blush. While the descendants of Rosaria could usually be described as the perfect model, Hollyhock behaviour and style is certainly not fitting with her family. She'd sooner hunch over and flash hand signs to observers than walk with grace. While she appreciates the artistry of fashion on others, she has little care towards her personal fashion. Loose clothes and big hats are her style of choice. Personality Hollyhock is a gluttonous troublemaker. Her interests are typical for one raised in Rosaria: art, music, entertainment, and the like. Where she is unique is her love of food. She loves eating, she loves watching people eat, and she loves being watched eat. For a noble, Hollyhock has little filter or delicacy. She says what's on her mind without caring about the consequences. While she does have the education to act the part as a refined noble, her true self tends to be a lot more vulgar and relaxed. She has an overwhelming desire to not be chained down to anything. This has led to her habit of immediately wandering off the second nobody is looking at her. While she has empathy and a general sense of duty because of her gift, she also doesn't believe she needs to be a pawn in the political games of the Rosarian court. This has left her at odds with her family who have been trying to reap the rewards of her Scionhood. She has a fairly laissez-faire attitude towards the usage of a Scion's elemental magic. If questioned why, she'd respond by asking "if Incepta gave us hands, why would be need permission to grasp?" Hollyhock is fairly pious. Despite this, she doesn't recognize the full authority of the church. To her, the church is an institution of mortals given power by common agreement. She doesn't consider herself divine by virtue of being a Scion, either. She was merely lucky--or unlucky--enough to have a blessing no different than the blessing of human inception. Biography When the previous Scion of wind passed, it was expected that one of her children would manifest as the next Scion. Watchful eyes focused on her kin that were involved in politics. It caused quite a stir when the next Scion appeared in her estranged grandson's family. Hollyhock's family was never involved in the political sphere. While the name of Rosaria carried weight within nobility, it had a caveat: the name of Rosaria held power matrilineally. The second son of the third son of the previous Scion, while bearing the name, did not bear any power or responsibility. Only two generations down from the previous Scion, they were isolated to steward a small township. Her memories of childhood are typical for a noble as they were marked with absence. Hollyhock's earliest memories are of her wet nurse and nannies, not of her mother's care. She could never forget the taste of the desserts her nannies would sneakily give her. That changed on a particularly rainy day. A six year old Hollyhock, the third daughter, had split the clouds because her nanny wouldn't let her walk in the garden. No longer was she the third daughter. No, now she was their golden child. She was now supposed to be the perfect Scion to bring honour and prestige to their family. Her upbringing became rigid. Gone were the lackadaisical days she spent with her nannies. Now she spent every day studying the skills befitting of a Scion without a moment's rest. Her family quickly rose to prominence in Rosaria's court. Their meagre roles as nobles had grown. Every noble family wanted to bask in the prestige and influence that came with the historic title. The world wished to see the young Scion of wind. Media fame came immediately as she was toured around. She received gifts, sure. But they were gifts from other families meant to arrange marriage and alliances. There certainly was more love that she received as the Scion than what she could remember as a young child. But this love was conditional and transactional. Hollyhock grew up with this understanding. It was a shame for her family that Hollyhock wasn't a filial daughter. Instead, what they got was a troublemaker. Someone who was willing to climb out of the window and down trusses to avoid studying. A girl who would sneak into town to buy roasted skewers to eat with paupers. A girl that would leave in the middle of interviews because the lights had begun to bother her. Weapon of Choice Hollyhock uses arrows that she can fling around using magic both elemental and unaspected. She doesn't have a bow, though. Misc. She's been a scion for 16 years. Hollyhock is a surprisingly proficient user of magic since she frequently uses it to escape. She's quite bad at fighting, though. If all eyes are off Hollyhock for a brief moment, she can slip out of an area as though she were a supernatural entity. She's quite talented at various arts from her education as a Rosarian noble. She's good at painting, playing about a half-dozen instruments, and could probably write a play. She's god awful at singing though. Her voice is like a drowning cat. She was quite a famous personality while growing up. Since becoming old enough that her family can no longer drag her around, she became considerably more reclusive from the media. Corsets are met with violence. If Hollyhock has to make public appearances due to her duties as a Scion, she usually wears a veil to at least partially obscure her face.

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani [Interest Check]

a little wip before other people get their ideas out, the element is a bit interchangable if need be

la goblina

Hollyhock Malcraven

________________________________________ Hollyhock Malcraven Female | 22 | Rosaria Scion of Wind _______________________________________________ "... Please don't ask me to look after her again." ________________________________________

"If you ask me, all this stuff about nobility and politics is a proper crocka." Holy Sigil Location Hollyhock's sigil is located on the nape of her neck. Appearance At 5'5" with a thin build, Hollyhock isn't imposing. However, her demure body hides a great ability to pack down food. While she appreciates the artistry of fashion on others, she has little care towards the fashion of nobility. Loose clothes and big hats are her style of choice. Personality Hollyhock is a gluttonous little devil. Her interests are typical for one raised in Rosaria: art, music, entertainment, and the like. Where she is unique is her love of food. She loves eating, she loves watching people eat, and she loves being watched eat. For a noble, Hollyhock has little filter or delicacy. She says what's on her mind without caring about the consequences. While she does have the education to act the part as a refined noble, her true self tends to be a lot more vulgar and relaxed. She has an overwhelming desire to not be chained down to anything. This has led to her habit of immediately wandering off the second nobody is looking at her. While she has empathy and a general sense of duty because of her gift, she also doesn't believe she needs to be a pawn in the political games of the Rosarian court. This has left her at odds with her family who have been trying to reap the rewards of her Scionhood. She has a fairly laissez-faire attitude towards elemental magic. If questioned why, she'd respond by asking "if Incepta gave us hands, why would be need permission to grasp?" Hollyhock is fairly pious. Despite this, she doesn't recognize the full authority of the church. To her, the church is an institution of mortals. She doesn't consider herself divine by virtue of being a Scion, either. She was merely lucky--or unlucky--enough to have a blessing no different than the blessing of human inception. Biography Born to an ancillary noble family that could trace its lineage to the first Scion of wind, Hollyhock's birth was uneventful. After all, the expectations placed upon the 8th child was low. This caused quite a stir when, on a particularly rainy day, a four year old Hollyhock had split the clouds because her nanny wouldn't let her walk in the garden. Her family quickly rose to prominence in Rosaria's court. Their meagre roles as nobles had grown to titanic proportions. Every noble family in Rosaria wanted to bask in the prestige and influence that came with the historic title. After her manifestation, Rosaria was treated as a doll by her family. Every action she had to take was now for honour, duty, and prestige. Every second of her life was under watch. She received gifts, sure. But they were gifts from other families meant to arrange marriage. It was a shame for her family that Hollyhock wasn't a filial child. Instead, what they got was a troublemaker who wanted nothing but to follow her own whims. Unfortunately, the shackles of her position weigh against her love of freedom. Weapon of Choice Hollyhock uses arrows that she can fling around using magic both elemental and unaspected. She doesn't have a bow, though. Misc. Hollyhock is a surprisingly proficient user of magic since she frequently uses it to escape. She's quite bad at fighting, though. If all eyes are off Hollyhock for a brief moment, she can slip out of an area as though she were a supernatural entity. She's quite talented at various arts from her education as a Rosarian noble. She's good at painting, playing about a half-dozen instruments, and could probably write a play. She's god awful at singing, though. Her voice is like a drowning cat. She was quite a famous personality while growing up. Since becoming old enough that her family can no longer drag her around, she became considerably more reclusive from the media.

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani [Interest Check]

👀

Augmented Machine Mobile Armor: A Gundam and Armored Core-inspired Mecha RP

R-18

Tallow didn't stop. For a heavy AUG like HIGH IMPACT, stopping in the range of a defensive placement was a death sentence. The speed that she had built up was one of the few advantages she had.

Bullets fired from small arms as MAs advanced towards her. It was like the sound of rain. Though, the shrill reverberation of metal took away from any peace that could be found. Streaks of silver formed as rounds deflected off of HIGH IMPACT's carapace-like armour. Paint was, at the very least, cheap and easy to fix.

Tallow aimed at the ground in front of her and waited. While her right hand kept carefully aiming at the ground, her left hand was held above to carefully manage an overhead switchboard.

A heavy cannon slowly turned to put HIGH IMPACT in its line of fire.

"I know you want to..." She sang to herself. "But you're going to miss..."

Every single warning system screamed at her. The blaring sirens and alerts overwhelmed the raindrops called bullets.

Then she pulled the trigger.

A great plume of dust erupted in front of her.

Swiftly, she flicked an overhead switch and slammed her arm into HIGH IMPACT's controls. Her AUG was blinded. No sensors to track.

The heavy cannon fired. Was it panic from losing target lock or prophetic timing?

The round pieced through the dust and shattered the earth.

HIGH IMPACT had managed to turn its way out the round's path using a massive impulse from its right thrusters.

"Hire people who have patience, dickheads!"

Tallow bit her lip. HIGH IMPACT didn't have the engine to do that a second time. No, she was already running at capacity. Momentum was the only reason why she could run at high speeds for any longer than a brief second.

Still, she had seconds to work with as her warning systems had yet to yell.

It was actually quite pleasant. No bullets deflecting off her baby. No blaring sirens. Just the blissful noise of a muffled battlefield.

She aimed in front of her again. This time, she wasn't aiming at the ground. She unleashed a cacophony of grenades that took out MAs and shredded what fortifications were in front of her.

Augmented Machine Mobile Armor: A Gundam and Armored Core-inspired Mecha RP

R-18

"You lot can just grab my coattails if you feel like you need a warm-up."

The boosters on HIGH IMPACT ignited. Pale green spilled from the back of the AUG as Tallow's behemoth began to move. It crept forward as momentum began to gather and Tallow charted a course on the primary roadway. If she was going to go around knocking, she might as well knock on the front door.

A pillar of the pale green plasma erupted from the primary thruster. The heavy AUG blasted forwards. Being heavy didn't mean that something had to be painfully slow. With enough thrust, even the heaviest AUG could move at an adequate speed. Of course, there were some complications with moving heavy mechs. Building up speed, turning, and stopping were all difficult.

If a nimble aerial armour could be called LINEBREAKER, then Tallow's behemoth could be nicknamed Linebacker.

Of course, that meant that stealth was completely out of the picture. Short range comms would probably drag every scouting unit towards her, but hell, she was already talking.

Then came that glimmer. Those three little bead of light on the short radar. Targets ahead. Tallow aimed her Thunderhammers forwards and grinned.

"Huh? That wasn't noise! Something is on approach!"

"That's... All Ultima Universal forces, we are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack!" Their comms rang out as MORDRED's attack began.

Then the scouts came into range and Tallow pulled the triggers.

"Here's a sight for our lovely scouts."

"Shit! Get read-"

The first grenade burst as it collided with the MA's armour. With a thunderous crack, slag and sparks flew in all directions. The scout that had unfortunately taken up point had been turned to an open husk. The cockpit hadn't just been torn open by an explosive; it had been erased from the MA's frame. It was certainly a firework, though the brutality of it distracted from its beauty.

The second grenade struck the ground by the two remaining MAs. Dirt rose to form a cloud. The shockwave burst joints and overwhelmed systems. The scouts were left off-balance and blind.

HIGH IMPACT didn't show signs of stopping.

Its torso twisted as it passed the remaining scouts.

"Consider this on-the-job training."

Tallow fired a second volley.

More fountains of light rained as metal was torn, shredded, and ignited. Really, these MA were nice. Whatever metal they used, they sure did look pretty when they were turned into a light show.

No point in her slowing down now. She'd just move forward towards the base. If something planned to intercept? She had about twenty more solutions before she had to reload.

Augmented Machine Mobile Armor: A Gundam and Armored Core-inspired Mecha RP

R-18

Tallow made some notes of who she was with.

She couldn't really prescribe any random personality traits to Redknights. She didn't recognize the accent. Even though they all spoke the same tongue, generations spent on a planet or ship made small changes to how people spoke. Kind of like how people from Bifrost said tomato while everyone else said tomato. That meant she was probably from off world. From where? Who knew. She was just loud and excitable, so it would seem.

Rabbit was the sort that she knew. Tallow could tell she was native Bifrost by the accent. Probably ex-militia given that she didn't have the all business attitude that the military types had. Definitely wasn't a criminal type either; most of them would have said something less... supportive and giggly. Not the ex-corp type either. They were like the military type except slimy.

Tallow had their fourth member pegged the second he opened his mouth. Well, she made up her mind about the type of person Snow was immediately. Anyone who introduced themselves saying "well ladies, if you'll have me" was the same type of person who tried to get into pants at a bar. In fact, she probably saw him at a bar before. Depending how he looked, Tallow might have been the one trying to get into his pants. She was too shit-faced at the time to remember if they met before, though.

Loud, Giggles, and Man o' Whore. That's what she called them in her head.

Then came the signal.

Tallow gave one last word of encouragement to the newbie.

"Hey frosh, don't piss yourself on the way down."

As always, her short-range comms were open for everyone to hear. Tallow only restricted her listeners if she had to say something confidential.

"R-18 launching."

The catapult launched HIGH IMPACT towards the surface. Unlike her compatriots, her AUG's landing wasn't exactly stealthy. She had the shock absorbers to land, but that didn't mean she'd land softly.

HIGH IMPACT's touched down. The dirt erupted in plumes of brown. Rocks flew and tapped against her armour. The ground cratered. It was a miracle what those little legs could take.

She landed as the vanguard. Not much to say about where she landed. Trees, dirt, roads, and the like. She was far enough away to initially register on sensors as noise, thankfully.

"Let's see how much they paid to protect this shithole."