Sync

~ Phantom Thieves of London: The Calling ~

Romaní

Theme

_{"Clip the wings of a butterfly and its life is rendered forfeit. Clip the notability of man’s existence and that man will slip under the world radar. Without notability, humans roam the lands like ghosts, unable to connect with those around them, utter rejects of the land built by them."}

---

Appearance
_{The most distinctive feature would be the scar that haunts the frailty of his skin, situated on the farther left side of his forehead. He height is around 5'10 and he weight roughly 140 pounds. Once, long ago, there use to be a child who would wear bright clothing and smile vigorously at everything. Perhaps such innocence has diminished as a result of age, but the lens of his auburn eyes allow a scope into the youthful tenderness of his younger self. Hair of silver adorning the intensity of the hue of the iris, stern complexion and hair slicked back and unafraid to expose the flaw which possesses his skin. Usually dressed comfortably outside his school attire, comprising of jeans and t-shirt.}

Metaverse Disguise:

Hider

Personality
<sub>The expressions that Romaní wears forms of subtle grace that lavished his features in tender warmth . Soft, yet stern in the shaping of his lids, which gently encompasses the patience he exudes naturally. Riddled in the very mysteries of which he is so earnestly invested in, he is a curious youth, undoubtedly kind of heart with a fancy to the silent. Quirky, quick witted and silver tongued when in comfort and control. Resolute in his speech and stance, unwittingly understanding of others perhaps, even foolishly so. Lives under a motto which veils the credence of: “Judgement is passed through actions he understand, not through decisions he has no knowledge of.”

Benevolence however, is not what one would call synonymous with this youth. Kindness is learned, but true benevolence radiates from the prospects of the soul. It is a quality one must feed in order to have it lavish one’s essence. Such would illuminate the path to righteousness, but that belong in hands of the saints. Romaní has desires, hopes and dreams as well, but like most, he also has flaws and moments of weakness. He hates the center stage, preferring to be lost in crowd rather than to be the center of attention. Attentive, clear and collected on most situations.

But within, there’s an inner fury that fans the flame of rebellion, chained and locked within the very foundation of his soul. Such can be displayed when brought to the edge of his patience, a silent anger that darkens the look on his eye.</sub>

---

Persona

Name:
Arcadia

Arcana:
Strength

Skill:
Ice

Equipment:
_{Pendulum (8 Feet Long) / Dual Barrel Pistol Shotgun}

---

Education
Evergreen Grammar School

• A-Level Philosophy
• BTEC Physical Education
• A-Level Spanish

Biography
Notability.

What comes to you when that world peers into consciousness? Perhaps you think something along the lines of: “That which I can see, or something of immediate distinctiveness. Perhaps you might even go as far and simple as to say that this is something which can just as easily be perceived.

…

Clip the wings of a butterfly and its life is rendered forfeit. Clip the notability of man’s existence and that man will slip under the world radar. Without notability, humans roam the lands like ghosts, unable to connect with those around them, utter rejects of the land built by them. Reality is warped and to a much lesser extent, it’s highly fragile. Through and throughout the creation of this world’s norms, such frailty is placed upon a foundation of silk and sand. Toppled by the constant shifts of the wind, but similarly mealable, shifting and different. Counting each piece of sand would be impossible, you would always find another and another. Such are the prospects of human possibility, of human grandeur. Such is the power of those who are… Notable.

Such radiance could exude from a variety of people in the beautiful planet of ours, Romaní being one of these, he’s lived according to his own volition, through the tribulations life has accommodated upon him. In this world, you make do with what's presented to you, even if that is only darkness. There was once a time where, unbeknownst to Romaní, himself, his family underwent tribulation in their lives. With resources running scarce and a marriage running on it last legs... His parents did whatever possible to set differences aside for the sake of gifting the child a prosperous future. So, much of life's luxuries were limited. They three shared a room under a lofty home, where the windows would clank at night because they were missing a few screws. The cold permeated the atmosphere and sometimes, they were hungry for longer times than others. Clothes were limited and he remembered wearing the same white t-shirt for a couple a years after he was already a bit too big for it.

Notability is important. If you're at the bottom of the barrel, you're most likely to rot before they get to you. You hard work and labor would be for naught if someone doesn't notice it. Passion fuels the fire of your journey, but gratification keeps it alive. His father worked hard, his mother worked harder. Perhaps in pursuit of a wayward dream or passion, a mistake happened and from such a lifetime of pain occurred. It was an uphill battle. But they did it, however they did it, those two managed to make Romaní youth one where happiness and love was present. But age makes one notice things, figure things out. Things weren't always bright, and much less were things always happy. When sometimes there wasn't enough to pay the house, the would sacrifice some of their money to gift the child a toy for his birthday. Where food was scarce, they would take the bread of their own plates to handed out to the boy. Nobody sees this, nobody cared. Their efforts weren't rewarded and all because perhaps he was born.

Eventually, things did brighten up. His father got a better job, his mother too. They began to make something for themselves and for the boy. He soon began to garner interests in a couple of luxuries outside from going to the park and riding his bike. His studies took most of Romaní time, wanting to become the best iteration that he can be, to repay those who worked tirelessly to give him a life worth living. Notability is important, and being under the radar all his life made it so that a bit of patience brewed on his system.

This world is fragile, situated in a ceiling of glass. Founded on lands of sand, the titling of the simplest motion could cave it and everything about it could fall. Humanity is one thing, however. Strong- Through ever cave in, through every ounce of hardship and turmoil that they are faced, we all as a unit come together to lift each other up, or similarly, we garner or strength to defeat that which plagues us. Strength is what he perhaps wishes to accomplish. But-- what would that translate to?

Affiliations
Ashwin Bogart - Father
Geralt Bogart -Grandfather
Sybil Bogart - Mother

Relationships
none atm

The Calling ~ Persona 5-esc RP

I'm interested in joining. I always wanted to try out a Persona RP.

Royal Rumble!

The outcome was to be expected, the flare of battle thundered under the pressure of true collision. Their bodies engaged in the most consequential art of battle there could be displayed. One man, poised with hands on shoulder width, back hunched lunching a series of attacks towards a boy who seemed to grin throughout, the sweat drowning his visage as his body, almost rhythmically shifted itself on a guise of mastery. Quick moves from left to right, turns and spins to evade the coming hits. Their essence in itself held murderous intent, the expression of their ferocity displayed itself upon the canvas which the two stood. Grasping the flow of the wind itself, the weight and propulsion of the body's natural inertia to develop their coursing flow of movements. Their speed exceeded any normal man. A crowd of men screaming their hearts out, witnessing such a flow unravel before their very eyes.

There the youth, known as the Macedonian Bull faced of against a giant twice his size, three times his width. The man towered roughly around 210 cm tall, and 200 pounds of muscle adorned his physical. However, with every hit he seemed to usher all he met was the waves of the air, a lavished dance of evasion greeted the giants might, and such brought him to frustration. Finally, the youth of dyed blond hair tired of the games, and shifted his course, with a single twist of his hip, he allowed an opening, staring straight to the mammoth's eyes. Their clear intent for victory even if it resulted on his own well being.

"What fire!"

Noticing such the man retreated his fist, winding up his most powerful left hook, you could visually notice the arm flex its bloated bicep, the forearm rearing to collide with all intentions to snap the youth's head clean off his head. Leonard Magnus Aldrige, the Macedonian Bull, the youth of true outstanding might, twisting his heel, shifting his body into a pivot and twist to shift momentum to the right, his hands caught the hand upon and open palm, a force blew around the impact zone, conducting the energy outwards in a massive force, but leaving Leo entirely unharmed. His weight now under Leo's control, the inertia of such leaving his footing unstable, with just a sway to the left their bodies now shifted, he was falling into an uppercut that connected, full contact. Leo could sense it, every secular bone and tendon stretch and tear under the weight, falling backward now. This mammoth of a man now stumbled to regain composure.

The wind was now under his wings, the balls of Leo's feet kicked with sustained pressure on exerting through the calf and quads. Teeth clenched, the bullet of sweat adorning his body, shiftless and bloodied tensing every secular muscle, pulling his arm from the shoulder and delivering a barrage of hits onto chest, torso and face.

Jab, jab, jab, hook, twist, knee- to axe kick, tornado kick, to twisting heel kick, extend, pull back, superman punch, stomach upper cut, rapid jabs, pull back, pivot right hook, left back hand, Leaping knee, shifting left knee, utilizing the enemies on chest he propelled his body into a forward somersault flip... Moonsault hammer hell drop!

Each individual hit was summoned with extreme force, and with each successful collision a sound of blow radiated through the area, the cheers grew louder and louder. Hands began to douse itself in the blood of his opponent. But that wasn't enough to fall that monstrosity. It regained it composure through grit and strength, and cam down with a grab, lifting young Leo over his head and power bombing him once, twice, three times! The earth beneath their heels began to crumble and break, making the hole deeper.

"Brat! I got you now!"

Standing above him, now it was his turn to deliver all his strength, Hammer down lumber punch. Both hand grasped to each other and smashing into the earth where Leo's body sustained the entirety of its power, a grunt released itself, a cough before another was landed. Now he just punched consecutively, trying to kill or knock the boy out. He wanted to win, he needed to win. He just didn't. Like. This. BASTARD!

Hand grappled his hand, a trembling between two strength, blood painting his mien, this was the fight. This was the fight. "So, you think you can make me feel defeat?" The strength was being pushed back, by someone who seemingly looked as if a trained had rammed unto his body. Blood and marks all over, as he pushed him further and further beyond from his standpoint and pushed, the man recovered and charged. Leo swung his first punch, landing on the center of his face, tanked entirely by the mammoth of a man before, him, but then...

Warden

The strike that was to come was intercepted, moved and shifted to the side. Leo began to summon a power beyond his self. No, more so that the power was birthed from him from the very start. He wanted not to hold back any long. The most genuine smirk between pain, blood and the spirit of the fight.

"Grit your teeth, you swine! Iron FACEBREAKER"

The crack of bones wasn't the worst, perhaps the sound could make a couple of twiddling soul to hurl or gag merely at the imagination of such. Perhaps it was the blow, increasing every movement to their maximum capacity, to witness might being display with such raw, unfiltered gumption that caused the crow to intake the surroundings. Perhaps it was the lunch that the man suffered between two support beams by a boy who weight probably weight what he could lift with a single hand, throwing him across a room no bigger than just a couple of meters wide. But the worst image, was the boy standing proudly. Broad shoulders, hefty stance, proud determination. Raiding set fist that just down and won him the victor above his head, screaming to announce his victory in celebration.

The crowed joined him, chanting his epithet. The Macedonian Bull. The one who will Rend the Iron Wall!

Royal Rumble!

The Macedonian Bull

_{“Grit your teeth, filth. This one’s gonna hurt.”}
Theme

Name: Leonard Magnus Aldridge
Nickname: Leo, The Macedonian Bull
Age: 17
Grade: Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined, 2nd Year

Biography:

Strength is obtained by overcoming adversity, and adversity is found in the midst of battle. This is where I belong, in the fiery pits of the fight!

Crude, ill tempered, aggressive and arrogant to a fault. There’s nothing and no one this boy fears, nothing he doesn’t deem unbeatable. First tries are downloads, seconds are stepping stones and thirds are but a means to get stronger. Determination and will flow through him like very blood that boils in the midst of battle. A child who was born with incredible strength and endurance, his speed surpassed people far more trained than himself, far more experienced and as age came, his abilities grew greater. His demeanor and overall his features painted him as a villain, a delinquent, eventually Leo grew to accept such and shoulder the weight of his own title. Fighting came naturally, shapeless yet malleable, like the water which flows on the riverbeds, his fighting and magical prowess began to synchronize.

Leo grew to enjoy the fight, to overcome that which all thought was his own destiny. Leo is a delinquent through and through. He follows only his rebellious spirit, does what he wants and when he wants it. He shapes himself and disciplines himself according to only his own perspectives. Ironically, this boy holds a passiveness most don’t deems to witness too oftenly. Perhaps this is also a means to display a side of strength he was not allowed to through childhood.

Leo hanged with the wrong crowds, fought a lot and met himself in dangerous situation merely due to the look of his mein. Everyone and anyone who dares stepped forwards was never met with kindness, the world around him demanded him to become stronger and stronger. Defeat after defeat, pain through admission of living, but this never weighed on him, if life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. But if life gives you tragedy, then I guess you should take such and shove it up the worlds ass.

Powers:

Core Power: True Rend of the Iron Wall

What makes this ability so different? Perhaps because it is not an ability to begin with. An Iron Wall exist both as a metaphor and as warning. Perhaps to keep whatever approaches at bay, or maybe even to sustain something dangerous within. Naturally gifted with athleticism and strength, Leo has conquered his own weaknesses and insecurities and made them into power. Controlled them under the guise of his own genius, or perhaps lack of there of. Simply put, in a world where magic and mages preside, perhaps the battle of fist has begun to die down. And as such, a power of rebellion swelled upon him and the fight began to boil on his blood. It is simple, so simple some doubt it is even an ability. The ability in essence is full body control. Precise movement, and even the cancelation of one, undoing one action so quickly and immediately shifting to the next. It uses the flow of magic to simply sustain and control the flow of how he decided to move

Full body control at its peak.

Skills:

Warden: Judge, Jury and perhaps even executioner. Witness, fall before the stance of absolute defense. Standing perfectly still, honing every secular muscle under a single regulated breath, the world become its own observer. Reality in itself shifts before the might of its bane. Attentive, secure, and certain, reversing his own flow of power and instead granting the enemy levity of freedom, a single hand exposed to his periphery, sensitive to all which dawns at his behest, any and all whom is met with such will be susceptible to a conqueror’s tenacity. A stance taken where any attack that attempts to fall would be intercepted, a mostly physical skill in which the flow of his own strength is reversed and utilized effectively for the absorption of shock that a blow naturally emanate upon contact, forcing such to reduce the quantity of strength or even nullify such to its entirety. Projectiles attacks are treated differently, however. Although the same principles apply however, he cannot catch a bullet in his hands, or stop a fireball in its track entirely. Although he could reduce the damage dealt with such, he cannot completely nullify its effects.

Starchaser: Grant me once again that which was lost upon a sea of creation, or perhaps even ignore such fact, and grant me what’s rightfully mine! A limiter, enhancing is one thing, it is to push the body’s limits to its very core, beyond its normal capacity and grit. However, to some this is but a limitless folly. The body unable to cope with such would eventually give out, run out of its own incompetence. Not this one, this releases the chains of a beats and demonstrates to the world the gift of being born a true warrior. Upon such, his velocity, strength, awareness, and all are brought to their zenith, their natural state. Utilizing 100% of his brains functions. What some might consider to be beyond human strength to others it’s merely their destiny.

Iron Facebreaker: You cannot perhaps get as straightforward as this, Perhaps there is art in simplicity, but truthfully there is nothing of note to take from this ability. Simply put, this is the third attack of many more to come. Finally a display and true recognition of power beyond physical. Building momentum from any angle, even if standing still, even if moving only a few centimeters, his strength will show and a powerful blow will be released upon contact, doubling, tripling even it’s natural impact. A force truly to be reckoned with. It could be as mild as allowing the user to successfully break a bone, to bending steel with only his thumb.

Friends, Rivals & Enemies:

None… yet

Royal Rumble!

The Macedonian Bull

_{“Grit your teeth, filth. This one’s gonna hurt.”}
Theme

Name: Leonard Magnus Aldridge
Nickname: Leo, The Macedonian Bull
Age: 17
Grade: Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined, 2nd Year

Biography:

Strength is obtained by overcoming adversity, and adversity is found in the midst of battle. This is where I belong, in the fiery pits of the fight!

Crude, ill tempered, aggressive and arrogant to a fault. There’s nothing and no one this boy fears, nothing he doesn’t deem unbeatable. First tries are downloads, seconds are stepping stones and thirds are but a means to get stronger. Determination and will flow through him like very blood that boils in the midst of battle. A child who was born with incredible strength and endurance, his speed surpassed people far more trained than himself, far more experienced and as age came, his abilities grew greater. His demeanor and overall his features painted him as a villain, a delinquent, eventually Leo grew to accept such and shoulder the weight of his own title. Fighting came naturally, shapeless yet malleable, like the water which flows on the riverbeds, his fighting and magical prowess began to synchronize.

Leo grew to enjoy the fight, to overcome that which all thought was his own destiny. Leo is a delinquent through and through. He follows only his rebellious spirit, does what he wants and when he wants it. He shapes himself and disciplines himself according to only his own perspectives. Ironically, this boy holds a passiveness most don’t deems to witness too oftenly. Perhaps this is also a means to display a side of strength he was not allowed to through childhood.

Leo hanged with the wrong crowds, fought a lot and met himself in dangerous situation merely due to the look of his mein. Everyone and anyone who dares stepped forwards was never met with kindness, the world around him demanded him to become stronger and stronger. Defeat after defeat, pain through admission of living, but this never weighed on him, if life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. But if life gives you tragedy, then I guess you should take such and shove it up the worlds ass.

Powers:

Core Power: True Rend of the Iron Wall

What makes this ability so different? Perhaps because it is not an ability to begin with. An Iron Wall exist both as a metaphor and as warning. Perhaps to keep whatever approaches at bay, or maybe even to sustain something dangerous within. Naturally gifted with athleticism and strength, Leo has conquered his own weaknesses and insecurities and made them into power. Controlled them under the guise of his own genius, or perhaps lack of there of. Simply put, in a world where magic and mages preside, perhaps the battle of fist has begun to die down. And as such, a power of rebellion swelled upon him and the fight began to boil on his blood. It is simple, so simple some doubt it is even an ability. The ability in essence is full body control. Precise movement, and even the cancelation of one, undoing one action so quickly and immediately shifting to the next. It uses the flow of magic to simply sustain and control the flow of how he decided to move

Full body control at its peak.

Skills:

Warden: Judge, Jury and perhaps even executioner. Witness, fall before the stance of absolute defense. Standing perfectly still, honing every secular muscle under a single regulated breath, the world become its own observer. Reality in itself shifts before the might of its bane. Attentive, secure, and certain, reversing his own flow of power and instead granting the enemy levity of freedom, a single hand exposed to his periphery, sensitive to all which dawns at his behest, any and all whom is met with such will be susceptible to a conqueror’s tenacity. A stance taken where any attack that attempts to fall would be intercepted, a mostly physical skill in which the flow of his own strength is reversed and utilized effectively for the absorption of shock that a blow naturally emanate upon contact, forcing such to reduce the quantity of strength or even nullify such to its entirety. Projectiles attacks are treated differently, however. Although the same principles apply however, he cannot catch a bullet in his hands, or stop a fireball in its track entirely. Although he could reduce the damage dealt with such, he cannot completely nullify its effects.

Starchaser: Grant me once again that which was lost upon a sea of creation, or perhaps even ignore such fact, and grant me what’s rightfully mine! A limiter, enhancing is one thing, it is to push the body’s limits to its very core, beyond its normal capacity and grit. However, to some this is but a limitless folly. The body unable to cope with such would eventually give out, run out of its own incompetence. Not this one, this releases the chains of a beats and demonstrates to the world the gift of being born a true warrior. Upon such, his velocity, strength, awareness, and all are brought to their zenith, their natural state. Utilizing 100% of his brains functions. What some might consider to be beyond human strength to others it’s merely their destiny.

Iron Facebreaker: You cannot perhaps get as straightforward as this, Perhaps there is art in simplicity, but truthfully there is nothing of note to take from this ability. Simply put, this is the third attack of many more to come. Finally a display and true recognition of power beyond physical. Building momentum from any angle, even if standing still, even if moving only a few centimeters, his strength will show and a powerful blow will be released upon contact, doubling, tripling even it’s natural impact. A force truly to be reckoned with. It could be as mild as allowing the user to successfully break a bone, to bending steel with only his thumb.

Friends, Rivals & Enemies:

None… yet

Neo Sorairo

Briefing has concluded, in approximately a couple of moments they would have to deploy. Final adjustments were made, Gungnir stood on standby next to him ready for launch itself. Normally he would be in command, sitting comfortably away at some desk far away from the front-lines. However this time it seemed he needed to quite literally dive into the eye of the storm. Attire consisted of a jet black rain cloak, hooded up, padded fingerless gloves, tall dark standardized military boots and finally his usual glasses replaced by goggles. They functioned similarly as the old ones, however in this type of weather it would be far more beneficial to have something with a bit more sturdiness and control. The screen appeared upon the shine of the goggle's glass with the words ALL CLEAR signifying his link to HQ and Gungnir. The helicopter's engine began to roar, it's strength was incremented to sustain the heaviness of the storm, rainfall was strong and even the lightning seemed to be thwarting to their demise. His arm pad rose to vision, pressing the necessary commands ushering Gungnir into flight mode, instead of following the other's through the fall, he leaped into the distance, extending his hand upon the free fall and grasping at a speeding object, Gungnir itself launched and held tightly to it Hiro maneuvered its movements to land him somewhere where he could support upon the distance.

Landing a couple of feet away, his hand touched a button on the side of his goggles, numbers began to surface with a latitude and longitude bar at it's edges. Clearing the image of the scenery bathed quite literally upon disaster. The flap of his cloak demonstrated the strength of the winds and the power of such a predicament. Subaru was in charge due to her obtaining clearance, to be honest he didn't understand why out of all she would be the one to have such, but in earnest in he didn't place much thought upon it. Search and rescue, such an expedition would be perfect for him considering his abilities to heal and sustain people's wounds with the quickness of a link. However, the number of personnel they needed to secure would become a leading factor as well. He needed to keep that in mind, fortunately, killing the invades it's not a priority. We needed to move and quickly.

Gungnir hovered above him, waiting for orders. He pulled the barrel of his pistol and released its safety. Gripping such with certainty. He wanted to avoid fighting as much as possible, but then again, with the strikers and gunners on board he'd really doubt he would have to lift much of a finger considering their strength.

Neo Sorairo

~♛~

_{Theme 2
Convenient, isn't it? Persistance trumps into that when you can throw yourself into death's embrace without consequence. For all you know about-- What do you truly know about sacrifice? - Vrael the Tailless}

The turbulent nature of their relationship rocked their conversation like a seesaw on summer's day. Their shifting gaze avoiding each other's stare because it was easier to witness their own reflections upon liquid than to contest the other's flaws. At this moment, both seemed to try to bare their hearts on their sleeves, but were too afraid that by doing so, they would be exposed by the tidal waves that would threatened the foundation of the castle of sand they tried so hard to built. People are like this in general, always afraid to demonstrate their most intimate pureness to one another because we're too afraid to see what was is only and simply only what is called human nature. Hiro sensed an incredibly guilt boiling upon the epicenter of his conscious, a trauma which left him bound by the questions that would never obtain answers. And so fear crept from the lights that casts shadows, men and woman knew of a perception he was too foreign to. Attempting to live as someone else because whoever he became now was naught but an outsider in the body of a stranger.

These thought and emotions were his own, but with each passing second he questions if it would be better for him to disappear. Hiro thoughts every individual outcome there could, perhaps even those which he couldn't even do alone. But nevertheless, no memories of his past whisked themselves back. People argue that the backbone to humanity is their ability to adapt, their ability to face any all adversity in the eyes and conquer it with audacious might. To stand above all tribulations and come out the victor, or perhaps even never lead a life where defeat is acceptable. Mankind is a force powered by their own history, but Hiro... The boy who now sat a short distance from a, now stranger, could not relieve even a moment where he and his parents smiled or shared. He had no attachment to anyone because he could not associate any emotions of them to memory. You see, to deny someone's very existence in you log of life, is to erase them completely from your reality.

And every day, every moment he sees this individual, every moment that Himura, Hanako spoke or even took it into herself to speak to him, was but a ledger of how he-- of how HE right now was but an intruder in a world not meant for him. The journal's words spoke to him once more, rose once again from the faint memory he had when waking.

_{"I'm frustrated. Every moment of every day I have to live with the fact that someone is taking from me, what's suppose to be rightfully mine!"}

Those words etched themselves into his mind, a certain sense of disgusting, perverse egoism and pride of which he was disgusted by. Words that were apparently written by him. By his own hands, those emotions which burned with certain passion-- Perhaps even hatred.

_{"Truth be told, this was my failure. Of course I should've been much more aware of my mistakes. I didn't view her as an opponent. She was suppose to simple be a pebble on my step. Just a pebble on my step! Why? Why is it that every time I attempt something of worth someone comes in and swipes it off my hands. It was so close, so incredibly close! I was suppose to be the center, and now I'm being pushed to the back of the line. Why? I gave my blood, sweat and tears for this. I'm not about to lose it all, because some intruder decided that their limelight could shine brighter than mines! I'll do anything... If else fails, I'll simply-- render her abilities useless."}

His hand gripped to his hair, he was responsible for it all and he couldn't even remember why. Those words and emotion were foreign, those desired and hopes and lack of thereof were all from a mind that was not his own. Time wouldn't heal those wounds. Hiro was by all intent and purposes... a criminal. Jealousy was all which oozed from that individual, a power hungry fantasy that would quake any adversity out of its existence by any means necessary. Hiro couldn't apologize for those actions it would feel disingenuous or perhaps even... Why? They all loved that monster, why was he the one being removed from reality in exchange for that? He didn't get it. He didn't want to get it to some extent, he needed to right by him and heal that girl... that girl who merely wanted to follow a path similar to that Hiro from the past.

Hanako finally rose her voice from the seams of silence that protruded between the two. Her stare finally calm, like an ocean before a heavy storm, they demonstrated a certain conviction to them. The glistening of the blaring light reflecting like fractals in the surface of her iris, brightening the hue of her auburn eyes unto view. "I can't say I understand... I don't really, but it's tough to talk to you recently. You've been always a good friend to me, and to everyone one in our circle. I just..." Her words stumbled between sentences, attempting to search the words which jumbled in her mind... As if someone took a dictionary and began to rip the pages. "Why is it so hard for you to just... try again!? Are we really that unbearable now!?" Her tone was softer... trembling under her own pressure, sustaining whatever emotions she was suppressing all this time.

"Is it too much to ask to be friends again, Hiro? Really? Did I do something wrong, was that it?"

"No, that's not it... It's just--"

"Not that simple, right? You think it's easy for me, too? You think I like to know that my best friend doesn't even want to bother himself with us anymore? You're not the only one who has it rough, Hiro! We're all worried! I want to know about you, I want you to know about me! What is so wrong about rekindling what we once had!? Is it such a sin to want to talk to you!?" She was getting visibly more frustrated, hell, frustrated was an understatement. She was livid, sad, torn. Everything felt like it was breaking before her very eyes, and he could only stare... This is also why he couldn't tell them about who that monster was. Because to some extent, he must've been important to someone. To sully that image, to interfere with that care they had with him.

And so Hiro stands and moves towards his friend, grabs her by the arms and drags her alongside him. Her mind taken aback, the words didn't seem to follow through, but there certainly was sense of guidance. It wasn't forceful what he was doing she followed. Throughout, there was a certain warmth to his grip, a reminiscent aura of a boy who she knew long ago. Taking her further, and further away from the cafe they both were in. Soon, 5 minutes passed, then 10... then 20. Until they finally reached the outskirts, after traveling within a narrow path between the trees and forest, overlooking a small hill he turned and witnessing a florescent sky, with the stars illuminating the world with their beautiful radiance over the city.

"Hiro, what are you-"

"You're right. It's not a sin to try to rekindle a friendship. I don't remember much about you, Hanako. I can't force myself to so either... And I apologize because of it." Hiro, mesmerized himself due to the view, a smile across his face.

"So, even though I can't remember the past. There's no reason why I should be afraid of the future. So... I think this moment right here, really paints itself as a great first memory for us." And so he sat, tapping the floor next to him, welcoming Hanako to be next to him. She was... She didn't really... she laughed, genuinely as she sat, pulled her phone and took a picture of the two.

"To our first memory then."

He had many demons to conquer, many issues to resolve. He didn't understand everything, he didn't accept all of what he knew, but for tonight. For this moments. He would spend it making a first memory... with a once, former friend.

_{And how many have died because of you? Perhaps your enmity is misplaced. Behind that piteous guise is a black soul steep in blood. None who enter-- are hopeless, Little Sheep. - Bast}

Neo Sorairo

The walk home felt eternal, the events of today keep rummaging across his mind evoking a sense of foreign embarrassment and disappointment. Eyes trained itself on the now broken piece of a drone he kept on his hands. Mila said it wasn't serious, that it could be remedied, but the more he twisted it to encompass its damage visually, the more lost he was about how exactly that was gonna happen. Mila also said Kuni would be proficient in that, but... The grit on his teeth began to tighten finding himself ruffling his hair in frustration of just thinking about the prospect of approaching a girl, let alone attempting a full blown conversation. Perhaps he made a fool of himself, and that in of itself made the edges of his cheeks flush in the color of rose. "You'll hear this-- You always do." Why was that peering to his thoughts again? His mood was already sour and this wasn't alleviating Hiro's mood at all. The stop light flashed its crimson, he needed to stop. The vehicles moving at their usual pace, the world forwarding without a means of a halt. Everything is based on the periphery of tomorrow, today is what we are inevitably stuck with and yesterday what we leave behind. Unfortunately, although the actions we took form what we are today for a yesterday, there is rarely the case for someone who shares no history, who's slate has been written blank. The night's stars hid between the world's pollution of light. The moon was all which stood its ground through the spectacle of night. Each minute longer than the next.

Faintly, the sounds of footsteps were captured in a moment of trance, where two stood next to the other, eyes trained on the distance where they now knew to focus upon. Although the scenery before them was bustling with the sounds of everyday in the city, of motor engines and clatter of the masses, of distant chatter and faint music drumming somewhere close, their time was silent. Hiro clutched his senses, knowing he took a certain turn without much thought placed upon it. And the familiar voice rose to greet him in a moment that preludes his worry. "You must've taken the wrong turn... You know I take this route to the train station." Yes, he knew at least this much. He knew about how some roads lead to certain people, monotony was a routinely sin we all took part of. "Would it be too much of a surprise if I said that just for a moment... I forgot?" A palpable silence. The two remained without speech, noting every secular moment pass them ever slowly.

~♛~

_{Theme
Convenient, isn't it? Persistance trumps into that when you can throw yourself into death's embrace without consequence. For all you know about-- What do you truly know about sacrifice? - Vrael the Tailless}

There, in the bustle of everyday where two met each other in the heat of a warm cup of tea. There didn't seem to be an instance where anything felt out of place, where with each deliberate blow on the surface of his drink, steam begun to surface alluring him to its aroma. His company, a girl who's bliss perhaps enveloped the entirety of the atmosphere. The placid nature of her essence would sooth storms into silence. Porcelain skin, flawless and quaint, meshed together so effervescently with the hue of her iris. The auburn which decorates her, nay embellished her long yet fluid brunette locks, rested upon relaxed shoulders. Long lashes courteously gracing the innocence of her gaze which gracefully follow a trek which leads all downwards to her rose colored lips. Thin neck, adorned by a necklace of gold, moon and sun emblem at its display. Someone from an unknown, or perhaps better said, faded past. Himura, Hanako...

Silence propelled between the two still, although one sat before the other, it's as if they were at their lonesome. To each, their presence was felt, yet their absence was noted. The reflection of the liquid provided better entertainment. Room for thought, canvas for memory-- Their silence was mere preparation. Eyes raising from their slumps, her smile, perhaps forced in the light of the situation. Whatever powers were which brought the two her today were now colliding with each other, attempting to break through a wall of ice thicker than any stone. "How have you been, Hanako?" Her hands gestured her hair behind her ear, looking for the answers perhaps through the glass window which peered to the outside. People walking as the night began to settle in, and all were at their way towards their homes. "I don't know. Perhaps things have been comfortable for me. Nothing particularly new has happened from the usual."

"Guess that's nice in it own way. It just means life is going well, perhaps not exceptionally well. But well enough." Her sights have demonstrated a pattern, and much to his surprise so did his. He never felt awkward towards this girl, but it all was met with a sense of guilt. Perhaps, because he felt like an invader in his own body. Memories should flash, thoughts should emanate from merely speaking to her. But it was all a blank page, where the remnants were ripped of its books, and old testament of their history wiped clean from his every existence. Her thoughts troubled her, certainly there was something she wanted to say, but found it impossible to speak it. Hiro was certain, that whatever it was he was not prepared to faced. And much to his dismay, he could not remedy either. "Rich, coming from a cadet Linker like yourself. I bet things in the academy are going well for you."

"Well? I guess, the people are nice enough. Teachers are a bit strict, but nothing out of the ordinary. It feels like any other school-"

"Do you even remember what being in another school feels like?"

There it was. Perhaps she spoke it as if to understand something about him, underlying those words was a tinge of hope or perhaps, a tinge of grief. Her eyes locked with his, a smile broke on him. But silence once again over took the atmosphere. A smile was certainly the best way to get out of problem. Anodyne which lead people to peace. She was unconvinced, unmoving with her stare. Hiro thought for a moment, perhaps even hesitated in whatever calm he was grasping. Certainly the softness of his features allowed Hanako a moment of respite, but she knew all too well that those words stung. Like a blade to his side it was perhaps the limp which halted his run into a stop. She couldn't understand, or perhaps she didn't want to. Their history was something she treasured, perhaps valued above many others in their circle.

"You know, everyone is doing pretty well. Their pretty mad though, you haven't been answering your calls."

"I'm sorry. I haven't really been in the mood, I guess."

"In the mood? Hiro, people are worried about you. The least you could do is answer their calls."

"It's not that simple..."

Notably getting much and much more frustrated, Hanako gripped her skit ever tighter attempting to regain whatever amount of composure she could. A sigh released itself, her thoughts were begging to get jumbled with her feelings. And Hiro understood it too deeply. Something about everything that was happening at this moment felt like it was meant to come sooner or later. He could feel it creeping into his very core it was a matter of time. It was only a matter of time.

"It wasn't your fault..."

"She's still on the hospital on physical therapy, attempting to walk. How is it not my fault?"

"She doesn't blame you for it."

"I can't even remember why--. I can't take responsibility for something I don't even recall."

"There you go again."

"What else do you want me to say? I've apologized and apologized, but... it's not that simple."

"Does forgiveness lost its meaning on you? Hiro, for all the graces in the world I don't understand your obsession with this. It was an accident. An accident!"

A single memory rose, something he did moment after waking. A voice telling him he should do better, he should improve and attempt to live life in the struggle. A journal, when trying to recall events, moments, family. Was a section that wrote about a person, himself, that wanted this to happen. a detail note explaining some inner turmoil, some inner demon he needed to unleash. And so... when waking comes to fruition the idea that all of this was his doing, her damage, her moments of pain and therapy felled down on his hands. But why? Hiro, the man most envied other praised, a man who was sought to be the next Striker to surpass his father... After such an event, he didn't want to rise another hand against someone, it be better if he focused one something else... on a more supporting role. Maybe if he mastered this technique, maybe if he could do something to ease her pain and get her to move more efficiently... Then maybe he would obtain redemption. He was entertaining his thoughts, and Hanako was getting impatient, her features finally ease themselves and a slight frown exchanged for her anger.

"I get it. You're scared, but being scared is expected. But to be lost in hope? To be lost in the unseen. I think that is really disappointing"

She was right. But where to start? All he could do was continue, move on, attempt to get better. But at the moment--

"It's just... not that simple."

Neo Sorairo

Mila's stare was somewhat unnerving, her eyes were like shutters focusing on his very details, for a moments she scanned his hands, monitoring his intentions before finally handing back his remote-controlled plane. A sigh escaped him, a smile followed with a nod. Perhaps he should say something now as to alleviate the situation yet the words seem to draw themselves into a halt. Fortunately, Mila finally spoke, attempting to ward away any misunderstandings. "Oh! No! It's nothing, really I understand, I understand! I uhh... Yeah, I'm sorry if it was weird or anything." He could feel himself sink with every passing word, it was going fine to be honest. Nothing out of the ordinary, he just needed to calm down. Take a deep breath and sustain his nerves, closing his eyes as to focus on such, before long a very dramatic entrance had shook him out of his trance, a hand coiled across one shoulder to the next, Falk had made his entry... Hiro dumbfound, just stared at him now escalating the group another member. This was rather uncomfortable already and Falk didn't seem to make it anymore easier for the silver haired Linker, it wasn't until he opened his mouth that Hiro's cheeks, in fact the entire semblance of his mien had shifted entirely, grid itself into embarrassment and spoke out: "Wait! What!? I swear, I wasn't staring! I mean I did see it, but certainly wasn't trying to stare!"

Did he just agree with Falk? No, that's not what he meant! "I mean, yeah you know, it's like, I'm trying to look at you in the eyes when we talk, but that's also kind of tasking for me too so I try to pick somewhere else too look, and... I mean not that-- I mean, your eyes are just sooo-- I'm just trying to that say I can't really talk well with... I MEAN-- Uuhhh---" Suddenly, pulling away from his arm Hiro sensed himself digging up a whole deeper than he could fathom. Once again, attempting to calm down but sadly whatever voice of reason wanted to reach him fell short across a face full of beat red embarrassment. Kuni seemed to have been bothered, and felt uncomfortable herself and darted off into the distance herself, following her trail visually, a final look was handed towards his direction. Catching such, Hiro rose his hand to his lips, gently obscuring the slow, precise movements of his lips which gestured the words "I'm sorry." towards her general direction. A wave followed suit, and now Mila added to her commentary of the situation.

"W-w-wait a minute, it's not that I--" Mila directed her conversation now towards, Ely and Lucia respectively. Hand, reaching forward almost as a means to gesture a halt to the misunderstanding, lost it's strength before the sense of powerlessness, staring at its open palm like a empty canvas, depositing thoughts upon its surface. A sigh, a tightened grip, he should really get home and attempt to fix this toy of his. Hiro didn't make much of a statement, he just seized the opportunity in where most were too busy talking to the other silver haired youth, and quickly made his exit quietly. Today was probably not the best of days, but it wasn't too dull at least.

"It's a memory at least, don't have much of those."

Neo Sorairo

@KoL@Saltwater Thief@SimpleWriter@Mr Nim

Laughter was the anodyne for any trouble, that much was coursing through his thoughts attempting to hide his machine behind his back without much success, just keep a smile on and ward any type of animosity off. Slowly taking a couple of steps away, Hiro attempted to recompile some type of excuse as to why he had to leave, but his machine was intercepted, nay swiped off his hands. Grasping at air, a voice tuned into his ears to steal his gaze into witnessing his drone in the hands of the Gunner from team Arizona. Whilst the linker from Team Novae apologized for the forwardness of her friend. Before long, Hiro was boxed by not two but four girls of only three he sort of knew. They proceeded to introduced themselves, Mila extended her hand one which Lucia greeted accordingly. Around this time Kuni seemed to have shortened the gap between the two and whispered for him to excuse her friend. Her features were the first thing that seemed to have popped onto his vision, for a second he was caught in the glistening of her iris, the clearness of her eyes gave away the density of their hue an outer pigment resembling of emerald the inner ring spread into a sapphire hue. Noting his staring, Hiro averted his gaze and attempted to stimulate a genuine smile. "Oh right, Uhm it's not a problem I guess. Yeah, you're a linker also. Hiro Valentine... That's my name." Thumb caressing cheek before realizing his voice was only directing itself towards Kuni herself.

But the reality was that, uhh... He was starting to get nervous. He could feel a cold sweat begin to form on his temple. But not only was he in the middle of these two groups of people, he was also unable to feasibly think straight. "Oh right, Mila, yeah yeah! Uhh, I didn't know that you guys were capable of fixing it, but that's fine! Uhh That's fine, I can do it myself... probably." She was attempting to bond? Strengthen their relationship? Not that Hiro had any problem with the sort, but he felt like a mouse in a tigers den. Surely these girls were nice, but he couldn't help feel awkward around them, especially when there's a stranger too. "Right, right. Yeah... Hiro Valentine, Linker for Sqaud... Oh, I just realized we don't even have a name yet. Uhm, right I'm a comrade, I suppose, maybe... yeah we're comrades. Nice to meet you, Ely. As for why I'm here? Uhm, I don't know I was bored at the school and I bought this and decided to test it out."

He began to rub the back of his head, attempting to recall the event getting slightly embarrassed throughout the process. "But I suddenly heard something along the lines of an attempt of murder and some kids ran towards me, and my hands slipped along with my control over that... Can I have it back please?" He extends his hand to Mila, whom he avoids any visual contact with as well. "Soooo... What are you guys doing here? E-enjoying your free time too, I suppose right?"