Rockette — Roleplayer Guild

O A K R I D G E  A C A D E M Y // June 6. // Deployment Garage.

Any rejoinder laced with stoic articulation immediately transitioned and was exchanged for tacit contemplation; more or less a reservation of aphonic observation that beget a wonder to what she was thinking as she simply gazed at her verbal opponent of crooked simpers and languid simplicity. The spin and dive of his conjoined daggers was both degrees of alluring and hypnotic and implied to his utterance being a presentation of more than wayward cues, enough of a visual key to the evidence that he was beyond what her previous words and interest supplied. And Monika mutely observed on, sword returned to nestle within the cage of her arachnid vice, palm cradled against cloth and hip with an ebonette braid twisted into a complex swirl of tresses to tame the mass with little success by the stray locks feathered against cheek and jaw. Monika was beyond aware of her brusque intonations, and by the quip of his timbre and smooth inflection of his chortle, it allowed a slim reflection of a smirk to shatter the frigid complexion of her usual rigidity. It lessened the severity of her countenance and found satisfaction laden within the whorl of words and physical grace. Submissiveness coloured his appearance in spades, but the former existed naught in the poise of action and words, it was a silent reprimand to her assumptions and unwavering doubt and it only cemented her conviction that Graham had much to prove and champion to her initial impression and tolerance. His articulation though also supplied the components of being both comrade and opposite, their ideals also in vast contrasts to one another.

Graham was purposely lax whilst she was intolerably adamant; a queer compilation, she mused.

So Monika simply spared any retort, heralding down one of the army contingent to fetch her gear and swung the weight of the Caladbolg over her shoulder, the weight distributed through her palm and bend of flesh in the slim curvature of muscle that flexed with the pressure of her weapon nestled there.

"We shall see then if there is any truth and weight to your speech then, Graham." Addressing him by name was a mutual adornment of recognition and a wealth of testimony to her amplified requirements of power and impression that were only endowed more so by perfectionist standards. The sharp peal of announcement heralded their attention, summoning those gathered to board their designated vehicle within a specific time slot, punctuality and performance swathed into chaos. Monika's expression flickered at that, hardened to a glacial reserve that swelled into her eyes, forging steel and ice into a ramification of anticipation. She offered a nod in Nicholas' direction, acknowledging him in the slightest when Graham vocally addressed him a in manner befitting to his candor. She, briefly, seemed slightly exasperated by it if her pained simper was anything to glean from as she passed the duo and elegantly clamoured into the amoured vehicle. 

Monika could only predict, with a feathering sigh, that he would be obnoxiously vexing for the duration of the mission.
We'll have to fix that too.

T H E  F I E L D S // June 6. // Hammer of the Army.

Terrifying squeals of metal and armour flaying apart penetrated the grating silence that slunk after ruin and assault, the remains of deluged fortification and rubber that permeated the air of rot and decay that signified the doom previously endured. Sounds escalated from the hull, the bunker screeching with repeated offense until finally it peeled open with a massive sword encased in slivers of glittering stone that provided the only splotch of colour in the depressing atmosphere thrust forward, obvious relief allowing he sword to wane and relax. Monika pulled herself from the wreckage, lashes fluttering shut against the crust of diamond tines that had ridged themselves from the sensitive lobe of her cranium, down the length of her flexed arm and spreading around the entire flank of her slender hip. Rippling carmine slid down the slope of her jaw and pooled against her breast from the impact against her temple where the crystalline spirits had been unable to conjour. She could feel their concern, silvery apparitions that palmed over her hair slick with her own essence and the sensation of spindly caresses that swept down her spine and over the juncture of her backside as she finally vacated the overturned carrier. 

Monika had to silently give appreciation to her fortune that she had not impaled herself on her own sword, and to the consolation that her reflective, diamond shell had not assaulted the potential damage to inflict her companions. Known to thwart critical damage towards her mortal constitution and to any surface tangible enough to be encrusted, she could briefly glimpse the spires of ice in the remains of the crate where she had thrust and pried herself free and hoped none of the others came in contact with the glacial remains. Her own skin was immune to the frigid grace, but she had no knowledge of just how severe the temperature of her spirits were in coexistence of others; be they friend or foe. The ridging of her armour began to crumble, the threat nullified and descending in various forms tines and slivers that shattered by slight pings and scattered into glitter that fell around her sallow complexion and even decorated the sanguine hue continuing to sluice from her wounded visage. She winced, a barely intercepted flicker of emotion before she settled her sword onto her spine by the assistance of suspension units and the uniform harness and thrust her hand into the void she had created, reaching for the next person to assist them in hauling them up from the darkened fissure.

T H E  F I E L D S // June 6. // Nexus Reactor.

Reflecting a myriad of differing personalities had been a chore, but not one that wasn't feasible by constant adjustment and proffering the eternal simper of his vanity inflicted vice. With his arm still looped around Serenity, he had welcomed and greeted each individual at the board, the foyer teeming with Guardians of varying degree and within his soul he recognized the stir and whorl of his spirits: ebony sludge and crimson sparks whirring to existence. Ollie had achieved mute pleasure from the blush of his blonde rest, but could not contain the flicker of his stare that fell on Olivia numerous occasions when she led her own progression of Guardians towards the garage. Ollie had followed close behind, with the Reactor participants having summoned as a group, and was all charms and eloquent murmurs when he welcomed the final straggler of their contingent.

Now he was fixated in a brooding contemplation, relying on the process of time, transportation and travel to diffuse attention onto himself and grant him another moment of reprieve. He had not bid farewell to his sire or any of the BATW representatives, and had been denied an opportunity to grant Monika that favour when he had not located her among the forces designated for the front lines. A portion of Ollie was glad at that, if not ultimately relieved of that cumbersome effort, salutations and farewells weighed heavy on the mind and heart, and he could not afford such sensitive endeavors. So, with fingers laced and elbows braced to knees, the carrier nearly droned him onto slumber until the rapid report of gunfire violated his opportunity. With a rigid spine and a flash of anxious obsidian, he stood and cinched his grasp around a portion of railing and held on as the vehicle squealed into park and stalled with the rumble of earth signaling the opposition ahead at the Reactor. It was on the border of the Dark Zone, of course Mordrem assailants would be discovered. 

	"Looks like we embark here," Ollie drawled, drawing his Magus Bow and retrieving two arrows to prepare for the ultimate introduction of their enemy. He listened anxiously for further instruction and report, hours from the previous silence having infected the Guardians and infantry mutually, now he could hear faint whispers and brisk commands on the outside. In the distance, the rumble of thunder and signals of an eternal storm brewed and festered, the Dark Zone ever unpredictable in the shadow of the mountain. "Come on," he muttered, punching open the hatch by switch and witnessing the ramp descend before he drew the Magus Bow taut, nocked an arrow and exited the carrier with shallow breaths and baited expectation.

Monika appears slightly impressed by Graham, but that only serves to hasten and cement that he has to prove himself to her. But with no time to spare or continue banter, she boards the vehicle before the others with a nod to Niko. Later, after the tumble of the vehicle from a plasma assault, she used Caladbolg to pry open the hatch door and exit the wreckage. Though her spirits of Diamant had shielded most of the potential damage, she still suffered a cut to her lobe. She reaches down into the hatch and hole she made, her spirits having left her skin in shimmering dust.

The report of gunfire signals their arrival at the Reactor, Mordrem immediate in the area at the Reactor. The chance of attack is high with the amount scattered around, but nothing substantial in strength with low level Modrem being currently present. The Nexus Reactor mission begins, with Ollie opening the doors and leading down from the carrier, intent on reaching the Reactor just ahead by foot.
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