TaintedMushroom

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

I made a character at least! Still really really stuck on the mech actually, but here's first draft for the rookie! Nothing special, just maybe some contrast for the party.

Also still trying to find a suitable image, I've been struggling.

Pilot Dossier: Braide, Elliot

ELLIOT 'ROOK' Braide

D O S S I E R : I D #513879458

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Name: Braide, Elliot
Callsign: Rook
Rank: 0-1, Ensign
Kills: 0.

Gender: Male
Age: 21
Height: 5’7”
Weight: #145

S E R V I C E R E C O R D

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Psychological Analysis:
Elliot grew up pampered and coddled, to say he turned into a pompous cunt would be an understatement. Arrogance oozes from him like sweat from a pore and the way he feels as if he’s better than you could almost be seen as a tangible entity. Maybe that’s a tad bit overdramatic, but from a young age he has been coddled and lacking in any responsible influence in his life. Elliot is used to getting what he wants when he wants it and putting his needs before the needs of those around him. On the flip side of the coin he practically worships MAS pilots, having been obsessed with the massive machines of war and those valiant warriors who pilot them from a young age. It could be said that those that pilot an MAS are about the only one’s he truly does respect. Of course Elliot also has a severe problem with authority figures. The first year of academy was an adjustment period for Elliot but he found that even in the military one could learn to work the system.

Elliot is fresh out of the academy and has zero practical experience. He’s never killed, he’s never truly fought beyond a sparring match, and he’s never been outside of UEE space. Many of the worldviews he holds are lofty and ungrounded in reality, a side effect of the sheltered lifestyle in which he was raised. Unbeknownst to Elliot life holds many humbling experiences along the path he treads and although he looks towards the future with naive joy at his chance to be a pilot he knows little of what the reality of it shall truly be like.

Personal Record:
Some people have to fight for everything they have in this world, others just come by it through sheer dumb luck. Elliot was of the latter group. His family was wealthy and well connected, politicos from a long line of politicos. Growing up Elliot was handed just about anything he could ask for and catered too damn near like royalty. Of course with such busy parental figures it was fair to say that there was an absence of any firm guiding hand throughout much of his childhood.

In his teenage years he sought to break away from the coddling of his youth somewhat as he mingled with questionable company and started to find himself wrapped up in illegal affairs. Of course his parents had to intervene, the optics of a child involved in illicit activities posed a hefty risk to the political legacy they’d created. And so Elliot began his military career at the ripe age of sixteen when his parents shipped him off to military boarding school with no other choice as they’d put it. Of course being as things were in Elliots life there was no significant change, merely a new coat of paint. Elliot’s family connections earned him a privileged status at school and it was no challenge at all to springboard from that into the Imperial Naval Academy.

Elliot had learned from a young age that connections and money made his world turn like the gears in a clock and continued to lean on this well into the academy. Although he’d technically had the aptitude and the intelligence he hardly ever applied them, coasting through courses and tests where possible and relying on the ‘system’ to keep him enrolled and passing. His peers found him a mixture of admirable and revolting, those who’d had to earn their places were sickened whereas like-minded individuals rubbed elbows with knowledgeable grins.

Of course there was at least one thing Elliot took seriously, Mobile Armored Suits. From a young age Elliot had been enthralled with the massive weapons of war since he’d been old enough to eavesdrop on his father’s conversations. As their usage grew and became more widely discussed and known Elliot had known they’d be the future, and that he’d someday pilot one. Of course with the connections his family had he knew that his father would make it happen. Even with this in mind Elliot actually applied himself anytime the subject matter pertained to MAS, although one would call his general performance average at best it was clear that he excelled in the technical learning regarding MAS. From a young age Elliot had been devouring every bit of literature related to MAS; whether it be special reports left out by his father, technical manuals released to military officials, after action reports where MAS had been involved or anything else under the sun that he could get his hands on.

Upon graduation Elliot pushed to enlist as a pilot for the 101st special operation group against the wishes of his parents. Although they’d known he’d enlisted in the academy the expectation had been that he’d become an officer and land a cushy desk job, to their shock this was very far from the trajectory that Elliot saw for himself. Regardless he pushed on, choosing to take the course of his life in his own hands for once.

Personal Skills:
Text Book Wizard: If it’s standard issue and has been extensively written about then it’s likely that Elliot has read and memorized it at one point or another. Elliot has always been obsessed with MAS and spends most if not all of his free time pouring over manuals and reports or whatever else he can find.

XTM-017 Venator

*Credit to Vietmyke for this awesome rich-boy custom, opted to have the rookie be provided a mech.

M O B I L E A R M O R S U I T

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S P E C I F I C A T I O N S

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Designation: XTM-017 Venator (Limited Production)
Role: Assault
Weight Class: Medium
Description:
A more or less discontinued line of high performance medium class MAS. Due to its high costs outweighing the increases in performance, and limited parts similarity, the XTM-017 Venator was ultimately passed up on by the UEE Naval Procurement Department in favor of the GTM-041 Centurion. Despite this, some limited number of models were produced and still see service within the UEE, and is widely regarded as a 'collectors' piece, regularly finding homes in the hands of the rich and well connected. Like the Centurion the Venator is designed to be a highly aggressive upgrade to the standard Sentry, with a focus on staying power over extended engagements. Lack of regular access to parts makes maintaining even a single Venator a rather expensive endeavor.

A R M A M E N T

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• HB-17 Combat Maul (Heavy): - A heavy, two handed weapon resembling a maul. A thruster mounted to the back side of the combat surface assists it in surprisingly nimble movements, and a heavy spike on the front is heated and able to penetrate fortified installations, ship hull, and MAS cockpit alike. The weapon disassembles at the haft, with the handle being stored behind the shoulder and the weapon head on the small of the back.
• DEW-11 Laser Rifle (Primary): - A twin barreled, direct fire laser rifle, the DEW-11 is both accurate and long ranged, though lacks the stopping power of a standard autocannon. High power capacitors allow for alternating 1-second 'pulses', or elongated 3-second beams from both barrels. Though somewhat ineffective against armor treated with anti-beam coating or energy reflex shields, the weapon can still be considered a credible threat to both medium and light MAS, and extended fire can still burn out even the hardiest shields or armor. The weapon has effectively limitless ammo, though overuse over a short period of time can damage or wear out its more sensitive components.
• M112S 30mm autocannon (Primary): - A lightweight, short barreled, autocannon mounted on the Venator's left shoulder. The M112S is capable of firing the same 30mm API shells used by most UEE MAS, but is typically loaded with 30mm canister shells, effectively shotgun shells firing dozens of depleted uranium pellets. The M112S is fed by a shoulder mounted ammunition drum with 500 shells, features semi-automatic and fully automatic firing modes, and has a fire rate of 700 RPM.
• Jackknife Micro Missile System (Secondary): - Mounted on the right shoulder of the Venator are 3 sets of 3 tube micro missile launchers, totaling 12. After launch, these projectiles split into four small munitions in mid-air, and have a potent payload for their size, though lack in armor penetration. While ineffective against most larger MAS, Micro Missiles have varying degrees of effect on soft targets such as light vehicles, light MAS, and infantry, and can be used to overwhelm point defense systems.
• Head Mounted Point Defense Gun .50 Cal(Secondary): - A .50 caliber machine gun mounted on the Venator's head, this light weapon provides the mech with anti personnel and small missile defense. It has a 500 round magazine.
• C-1 Reflex Shield Generator (Utility slot): - The Venator comes armed with a fast regenerating Class 1 reflex shield on top of its standard armor for defense.
• F-16 Flight Booster (Utility slot): - lightweight shoulder mounted afterburners give the Venator the ability to maintain flight, as well as short boosts of speed, dodge and close distance between targets quickly.
• Uparmored (Utility slot): - Additional armor plating mounted to the Venator's cockpit, shoulders and legs providing it with increased protection at the cost of some mobility. Does not take a utility slot.

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Starting the party!”

---

The perfect soundtrack would have to wait, things were getting spicy and the half naked lady had started a fight, figures. At least Asher didn’t have to worry about moral questions today, it was pretty clear to him that these new arrivals were baddies just like the first operation he’d taken part in.

As things erupted around him a set of dark appendages began doing their best to restrain him starting from his legs and moving up. Asher couldn’t keep the grin off his face, truth was he was flattered, with what little information they had they’d decided Asher was an early threat and sought to remove him from the fight early. Asher wasn’t too concerned as the appendages circled him further, awaiting the moment when it was clear that they had a good firm hold on his lower half but had yet to reach his arms.

“Didn’t they ever teach you not to play with fire?” He asked aloud with a twisted smile as he laid both his palms on the thickest part of the restraints. For a brief second Asher considered holding back, but he had a reputation to maintain and wouldn’t be called Dead Head if something didn’t die every so often.

With a growl and a snap of anger Asher poured a massive amount of heat and energy straight through his palms into the creature attempting to restrain him. From an outside perspective one might assume Asher went supernova based on the amount of fire that he summoned as he attempted to turn his would-be captor into the crispiest of critters.

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Flames of Retribution
[Ignite, Fervor] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink, Full Extend, Purify, Restrain
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 1000

[Gold Touch][Ignite][Damage X] – 200

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 1000 | Current Mana 800

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

I need to sit down tomorrow when I am off and go over everything, wanna make sure I'm gonna have something that fits the party composition thus far.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

Hmmmm...I diggity.

Shadows of the Forgotten Realm

Vale felt as if he might be dreaming, a sharp pinch dashed these thoughts of course. Regardless it seemed unlikely and unplausible that a host of strangers all of assorted backing would be as comfortable with his presence as these few here, nevertheless it were true. Vale arose slowly without doing anything to further draw attention. As accepting as things appeared the elf remained apprehensive, choosing to follow along with the flow of things. Should someone address him directly he'd respond in kind but for the time being he remained silent in an effort to keep from attracting too much attention.

Underneath this though Vale couldn't help but feel hopeful at the offer of succor, it had been long since he'd had somewhere he might rest a moment in peace without fearing a knife in the dark. Although his cynical nature threatened to quell this feeling Vale held onto it deep down, perhaps.

Of course, as the group planned to travel and Vale sought to not potentially draw undue attention to his newfound companions, Vale replaced his mask and hood as he prepared to set off with the rest.

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Late Again!”

---

For the most part Asher had been keeping to himself since he’d arrived. He wasn’t familiar with anyone here, except for Lenore’s crew. Even that relationship wasn’t one he’d call familiar, more like acquainted in violence. His employer seemed imposing enough, issuing orders ensuring anyone who needed further intel received it. At least there was one solid brain in charge, Asher knew thinking wasn’t his specialty and it was a relief to not have to worry too much about it yet.

He couldn’t help but find amusement in the prudishness of one of the other church related freelancers who’d arrived around the same time he had. Of course he found himself then a little disappointed when Black Sabbath disappeared in a puff of smoke, scouting ahead or some such as Asher thought he’d heard, his mind was a tad scattered. Fully immersed in his ipod Asher flicked from song to song unable to settle on the perfect soundtrack. Frustration was evident in the way the fires grew and flickered from his eyes.

As the group began to move out Asher was still deep in his distraction and was mostly oblivious to the ever growing host of demons and creatures circling their party. Mostly, a little bit of his mind had noticed that things were going on but rest was thoroughly obsessed with the tiny electronic device that held what was most likely Asher’s most prized possessions. When Raphael told everyone to stop, Asher very nearly walked into the man’s back, catching himself just a moment before disaster.

“What’s going on?” He muttered to no one in particular, slightly annoyed by the interruption. His fingers itched to get back to the ipod before he worried about anything else but the greater of two brain cells was saying he should at least try to pay attention for a moment. And then the half naked lady spoke from up high and Asher’s attention snapped fully into focus. A slight tingle began at the base of Asher’s spine, his fists clenched and a scowl formed on his face, it was starting to look like a fight was brewing and he’d still not found a soundtrack, that was frustrating.

Asher was about two seconds from telling this woman to shove it and find someone else to bug, but then the prudish nun spoke up first. It took about three full seconds for Asher’s brain to process things, and for those three seconds he just stared at Walking Church with the most vacant blank face. And then almost like flipping a switch Asher started cracking up. He tried to contain himself but before long found himself doubled over as he cackled wildly.

“Christ, aren’t you a right loon? Fuckin’ ‘What on earth are you wearing?!’ ya said, as if that’s important. Oh hell that was too good, talk about breakin the fuckin ice I tell ya.” He cackled wildly, his attitude and demeanor making it difficult to tell if he was laughing at Walking Church or with Walking Church. Regardless it was evident by his behavior that he cared little for any sense of decorum. Classy wasn’t really how Asher did things.

For the moment, the ipod was forgotten.

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Ignition
[Ignite, Heat] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 750

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 000 | Current Mana 750

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Late Again!”

---

Well would ya look at that, Asher already knew this was going to be a fun mission. He certainly remembered Bobo and her crew, or more so Bobo over the others. Asher hadn’t specifically duked it out with the other two Espers present as he’d mostly been tied up taking out their goons and then saving that electric kids’ ass. That was particularly when he and Bobo had met. Theirs had been a short scrap but fun nonetheless. There was no hesitation in him as he firmly grasped the offered hand and gave it a good shake.

“Oh yeah, I remember y’all,” Asher started, a cheeky grin growing on his face. “Real fiery attitudes, the kinda gals I can get down with.” Asher said with a wink, the way he figured it he was more likely to suffer a knife in the back before anything else but that didn’t stop the natural urge to banter. Besides, maybe the nun was true to her word and there really were no hard feelings, only time would tell but Asher wasn’t too big on grudges himself.

“Yeah, no hard feelings,” Asher started with a more serious tone, but quickly a grin took over once more as he turned to more indirectly address Bobo, “I get it. Bobo’s always free to try and even the score if she’s feelin’ frisky, I don’t mind a few nibbles around the edge. I like a little warm up before the main show anyways. Small world indeed.” Asher directed the last line more directly towards Bobo, sending her a wink for good measure. He hadn’t quite decided if he’d spend some time pushing her buttons, he did need to get paid after all. He was sure there would be plenty of other’s to dance with soon anyways.

With a smirk Asher turned towards their new boss, “Nah, not a problem Chief, just had a little brush up with these gals before but it’s all ancient history, no hard feelings.” He started in an effort to reassure the…priest? Father? He wasn’t sure what he should use to refer to the man as a matter of fact. He’d just stick with Chief.

Asher watched as the mystery nun strutted by, paying attention as she spoke with the other new freelancer who’d not tried to kill him and who he’d not actually met yet. A little voice in the back of his head wondered how he ended up working with a bunch of bible carrying nerds but Asher chose not to worry about that so much right now. “Black Sabbath, huh? Sounds like a killer band name.” Asher said to no one in particular before looking around to see if there were any other interesting arrivals.

“So what’s the plan?” He asked, although he threw the question out into the air with no intended recipient, hoping anyone really would pipe up and give him an idea of what was going down.

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Ignition
[Ignite, Heat] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 750

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 000 | Current Mana 750

Symphony on High

Dead Head

”Late Again!”

---

Patience was a virtue, a virtue that Asher hoped his new employer had because Asher was late. It was starting to become a habit, unfortunately Asher wasn’t too particularly interested in remedying it. That had been one of the complaints when the band fell apart actually. The other guys always told him they felt like Asher never cared about anything because he never seemed to care about arriving on time. Asher always told them they took things too seriously. Hopefully this new employer didn’t take things too seriously, Asher needed money.

Asher had gone with a new employer for this one, the church. He wasn’t really a religious fellow, unless you considered money a spiritual icon. But he’d already run an op for one of the city’s big players, although the contact and information he’d gathered had been minimal. As for the other, they’d met in a bar over a few smoothies and a gelatinous blob monster. That had been far more interesting, Asher had actually learned something new. Rare.

For some reason Asher felt like taking a third party approach to this next one, choosing not to side with either group. Did he want to see how they operated from afar? Did he want to evaluate them further before choosing some sort of side? Asher didn’t really have a reason, he’d not put much thought into it truthfully, just felt like more of a hassle to get involved with.

The bright red doors of the church were the first thing that caught his eye. The sight pulled Asher from his thoughts as he started to take in the scene. He couldn’t help but smirk a bit, the last time he’d been to a church he’d let himself in with the heel of his boot. Good times. Asher approached with his hands in his pocket, eyes looking from person to person as he inspected the little team he’d joined up with.

“Well well, nice little posse we’re formin’. Sorry I’m late, what’s the plan?”

Dah Info

32 | Male | Freelancer | Dead Head
Hatred | Long Gun | Physical | Dragons Breath
Rage | Fire | Ignition
[Ignite, Heat] Damage X, Damage, AoE, Puddle, Sky Call, Powerful, Scatter, Shield, Blink
DAMAGE: A | SPEED: B | SENTINEL: E | Max Mana 750

PHYSICAL:E | ARCANE:C | CHAOS:D | Prior Mana 000 | Current Mana 750

♤ THE CURSÈD WEST ♤

---

Amistad Jail Cell

Feat. @tlaloc as Big Jim and @TaintedMushroom as Westley Maston

---

Life had a funny sort of habit. Whenever Maston tried to do anything, anything at all really, it would do its damndest to make sure he started off on the worst foot possible. It was a constant trend all throughout his life, a dark cloud of bad luck and despair seemed a constant companion in lockstep beside him. Once again he’d found himself on the wrong side of the law and in a jail cell, a far cry from how he’d intended to spend the night. And even further from how he’d seen things going for himself. Maston sucked back a deep snort and spat with a resounding splat into the corner of the cell. With it he spat his complaints and problems, metaphorically speaking of course. It never did him any good dwelling on his fortune and now wouldn’t prove to change anything from the usual.

There wasn’t much else to do but to get comfortable and settle in for the night. He hadn’t paid the big guy who’d pointed the finger much mind since he’d been tossed in a cell, man seemed to have his own problems. He’d certainly seemed more docile, likely feeling sorry for himself as Maston had almost caught himself doing. Maston took a seat on the cot before removing his boots, vest, and his shirt, all of which he folded neatly and stacked in the corner in a fashion that he’d carried over from his time in the military. With naught else to do Maston decided to settle in for the night, best to see what was in store for the future at this point, see about possibly heading further west if possible. Maston didn’t like the feeling he had when thinking about sticking around, it would be better to move on given the way things had started out. Well Maston wouldn’t be doing any moving anywhere until he was out of the predicament he was in and that likely wasn’t gonna be happenin’ till mornin’. For now there was nothing left for him but sleep, and so sleep he did.

---

Like most nights Maston slept fitfully, tossing and turning, mumbling and twitching. Sleep was something Maston had long since struggled with, ever since the war. It had only really gotten worse over the years, eventually though he’d learned to just deal with it. Some nights were worse, others not so bad. This was one of those not so bad nights, unfortunately the sound of wheezing broke Maston from the shallow bit of sleep he was managing to maintain.

The suffocating heat of the jail cell felt heavier than before, thick with something unnatural. The scent of sweat and something rancid — something like meat gone bad — filled the air. Maston could almost feel it clinging to his skin like an unnatural humidity permeating the space. Across from him, in the other cell, Jim stood pressed against the iron bars, his thick, calloused hands wrapped around them, shaking violently. Maston had seen many an episode from men who’d done awful things and had broken minds from it. This wasn’t that, Maston almost could feel it in his bones, something was wrong.

Where most men might find themselves paralyzed in fear Maston found himself leaping to his feet. The room hadn’t much in the way of potential weapons but Maston quickly picked up the wooden stool in the corner of the room. It would have to do. It had required him to momentarily take his eyes off Jim and when he returned his gaze he almost stopped dead in his tracks.

The sight before him would stop any man cold. Jim wasn’t just gripping the bars; he was bending them. The heavy iron groaned under the strain as Jim’s entire body shook with the effort. His muscles bulged hideously beneath his skin, veins pulsing under the pale moonlight. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, pupils blown so large they swallowed the colour, and his mouth was foaming, a thick red froth dribbling down his chin.

Maston’s imminent danger snapped him out of it, without further hesitation he stepped forward and struck at Jims hands with a brutal swing of the stool. His first two swings hit more metal than flesh, the angle and the approach were just terrible for the shape of Maston’s improvised weapon. Regardless he swung and struck gold on the third swing, it looked as if he’d smashed Jim’s index finger. Jim did not stop.

Jim’s gaze snapped to Maston, feral and crazed, and a low growl escaped his throat. His teeth, dull and cracked, gnashed together, and his tongue darted out like an animal sniffing blood. Speaking of blood; the red on his chin seemed to be of his own making, with his tongue looking as if he'd chewed it like a tough lump of steak. Something was very wrong with him, and it wasn't just the drink.

“Help me,” Jim rasped, his voice guttural. He pulled harder at the bars, the metal twisting as if it were soft clay. His fingers scraped through the gap, claws of flesh desperately reaching for Maston.

"Please..." Jim’s voice was barely a whisper, more a plea than a demand. But the madness in his gaze spoke volumes.

Jim’s fingers clawed at the bars, nails splintering as he tried to squeeze through the small gap he’d made. His breath came in harsh, ragged bursts, his chest heaving like an animal in the throes of a hunt. The stench of rot was stronger now, clinging to him like a second skin. He pushed, harder and harder, bruising himself, testing the strength of his bones. His arm stretched farther through the bars, skin rubbing bloody against the iron as he groped wildly for Maston.

Maston took another wild swing of the stool and Jim’s waving hand snatched it from him unexpectedly. Maston wasn’t prepared for the return swing that caught him in the shoulder and sent him teetering hard to the left into the wall of the cell. Maston saw stars and heard a whining sound, and for a moment he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing on the floor. It came back to him a moment slower than he’d have preferred and Maston came to realize quite a bit had passed while he was on the ground.

Jim had managed to twist and contort his shoulder and head through the gap in the bars, he'd have widened it in the time it had taken for Maston to come back to his senses. Unfortunately the size of the gap paired with the size of Jim and the ferocious single minded intent behind his attack meant he’d basically wedged himself between the bars in a way that restricted his breathing. Jim’s face was growing bluer by the second and the frantic swings of outstretched arm were growing more half-hearted and losing steam with every passing second.

Maston was unsure what had just transpired, all he knew is that for once he’d been lucky. Not so much the other fellow. Maston was going to have a very interesting conversation on his hands this morning though, that thing was for sure.

Symphony on High

---

Unless you were Estelle or a freelancer, most espers were never truly off the clock. This was especially true for Maverick Alternative. As much as they prattle on about their freedoms, they know you can’t spend all your time eating pizza and playing roller derby with automobiles. Recovering Boteg and Amanda was just one victory in a long war. They couldn’t rest on their laurels just because they were gaining momentum.

Ciri was on patrol again. This time she had been put in a team with Luna, who needed a break from monster searching with Stacy Stitches. They looked a bit mismatched, with one being a neon oni in a leather jacket and the other being an acrobat in an outfit inspired by medieval jesters. They hadn’t spoken much. Maverick’s forces were stretched thin, and Ciri was new. So this was their first time alone together. They stuck to the backstreets. As a pair of magical girls, the temptation might have been to run along the rooftops. But Maverick Alternative was safe closest to the ground, or in it.

”I heard you met Trixy already.“ Luna half smirked, half cringed.

You'd think that almost getting blown up by a goddamn plasma beam would've earned you at least a few days off. As it turned out, Maverick Alternative's health policies were about as progressive as your average American company's, so here she was, on another job.

At least this time, she had company. Company other than her partner, who she was still pissed at, by the way.

"'Was forced to meet', more like. But yeah." Ciri shuddered at the memory.

”She’s harmless, and I’d forgive you if you find her annoying. She was really excited about a date she met a month or so ago and they just kind of vanished on her. She’s been a little clingy ever since then.“

Ciri’s grimace quickly turned into a sarcastic grin. "Oh, totally, harmless like a grenade without a pin. She's batshit." The news about the... date were new, and she highly doubted the person in question actually knew they were one. Then again, remembering the dirty-ass nerd from the other day, she figured there were probably — definitely — people crazy enough to go for someone like Trixy, too. Hm. Maybe she should introduce the two?

"Who was the 'date', anyway?" She asked, still trying to somewhat pay attention to her surroundings amidst the gossip. "You know what happened to 'em?"

”A freelance esper called Klava. One of those ‘weeb with a sword’ types. I’m not a huge fan of most freelancers but she was one of the good ones. She was a little smug, but I guess she earned it.“ Luna sighed. ”As for her fate? Nobody really knows. You’re probably too new to witness the fiasco with Justin Von Carnage, but he was a sadistic vampire and, naturally, had an equally nasty butler. His name was ‘Baleful Sofron,’ and Klava reportedly fell out a window with him during some secret operation. For a few weeks I was hoping she’d wash up in the harbor, but no sign of her. On the upside, we never saw Sofron again.“

Damn.

"I mean, falling out a window can't be that much worse a fate than dating Trixy," Ciri drawled, only half-joking. Yeah, yeah, if she did actually die in the fall, that was all sad and shit, she supposed. But Klava had been a freelancer and a weeb, so... there were worse things to lose. "Hell, I'd take a vampire over her. At least they know they suck."

She grinned at her own joke, because someone had to — and judging by Luna’s expression, Ciri was pretty sure her fellow Esper wouldn't.

Luna batted her eyes before looking to the rooftops. ”If you like someone, hold onto them. They don’t call Pax the city of blood for nothing.”

Ciri shifted uncomfortably. She didn't feel her partner shifting in the shadows with her, that didn't mean It wasn't there. It was, as always, just avoiding her because she was angry. It held onto her, even when she didn't hold onto it.

"Well, lucky me," Ciri said dryly, following Luna's gaze upwards. "Don't have anyone I like, so don't have to worry about shit like that either."

Almost too quick, Ciri glanced at the other girl and redirected the focus back to her with a short, snappy, "...You?"

She rubbed her chin, still looking into the shadows. ”I think Billy is cool. Jezebel and Trixy are nice once you get past their overbearing nature. Though I don’t get to pal around with them a lot. I like a lot of the monsters, and Stacy Stitches is growing on me.”

Ciri didn't necessarily disagree with Luna's assessment of their colleagues, but it was pretty clear that liking someone meant different things to them. Like yeah, Billy was hella cool, and it wasn't like she actually hated Trixy as much as she let on either, but that didn't mean she wanted to hold onto them tight to make sure they didn't go jumping out a window and disappearing, or something. It didn't mean she liked them.

She would've voiced that thought, too, but then Luna started talking again, and the smile on her face was one of those sickeningly sappy ones she knew better than to interrupt.

”But for people I feel I have to hold onto, I guess there’s just Marrie. She’s another rare freelance esper that I’m pretty sure values her connections more than money. But that kind of checks out, doesn’t it? The only good freelance espers are the ones that don’t care to hide their true nature. I can’t say it’s too common for an esper to use their real name to begin with, but Klava and Marrie were that way.” She laughed. ”Are that way in Marrie’s case. Though she’s also a little green, at least she was when I last met her. I’ll have to meet up with her again at some point.”

… Once Luna was done, though, it was all fair game.

"A freelancer?" Ciri repeated, suspicious. "You know if any of them were good, they wouldn't take money from the government, right? Pretty sure your precious Marrie would bust a hole in some innocent monster kid's head the second GEMINI paid 'em well enough. They all fucking would. That's kind of their point."

”I’d normally agree with you, but I don’t know about Marrie. She’s kind of green and doesn’t fully understand the world of espers yet. How many freelancers do you know that would willingly keep a headless zombie in their home to protect them? That’s the kind of person Marrie is. She’s not some macho man who’s constantly trying to look cool. She really believes in helping people. I don’t think she’d hurt a fly unless she had to.”

Ciri rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated, but her tone lacked venom. The zombie comment had piqued her interest, somewhat. "You're really crushing hard on her, huh? If you think she gives two shits about monsters, why aren't you out there trying to recru—"

But Ciri was cut off by a cacophony of screams.

Abruptly, Ciri stopped. Everything; walking, talking, thinking about Luna's crush. She raised a hand to make sure the other Esper did as well — as if she hadn’t been able to hear the hysteric screaming otherwise. Something was going on, and close.

Luna eyed her partner. ”That didn’t sound good.”

"C'mon."

With a quick flick of her wrist, Ciri dashed towards the commotion, but made sure to stick close to the walls and, hopefully, behind Luna. She didn't know what sort of fighting style her patrol pair employed, but she assumed it was probably something close-range, considering her getup. Which'd suit Ciri more than fine; she'd stay a few steps behind, until she found whatever target she was supposed to fuck up. Hopefully a GEMINI, probably a monster. Or, if fate had any sense of humor at all, a freelancer.

Asher wasn’t looking for any excitement. He’d just gotten into town, took a quick job to get some cash in his pocket, then bounced. He’d chosen not to linger, perhaps he’d run into the other espers he’d worked with some other time but it wasn’t really something he’d concerned himself with too deeply. Asher liked to keep things simple, maybe that’s why things never seemed to stay that way. All he’d wanted was some cheap drinks and some cheaper tunes at a local outdoor venue. It was a nice place. The restaurant’s interior was high class, but the fenced in outdoor area was great for partying. In front of the restaurant were two giant speakers sitting on top of a patio, with steps that descended into a garden. There were enough trees and shrubbery to make one forget they were in the middle of a city.

First the tunes had been canceled and that seemed to really upset the crowd. Apparently it’d been some hot local talent that had a bigger than average turnout. Apparently they’d canceled, last minute. And to top it off, apparently the venue wasn’t offering refunds. A powder keg if he’d ever seen one, a powder keg that Asher unfortunately had found himself directly in the middle of.

Asher had only wanted drinks and tunes, but tonight he was getting a hefty serving of violence and mayhem. Asher wasn’t an expert, nor was he really the thinking type, he couldn’t tell you if the broiling pot of negative emotions had lured something in or birthed something fresh. What he could tell you was that it was big, it was angry, and it had one hell of a right hook. Asher had to pull himself free of the rubble of the wall that he’d been pummeled into. Asher dusted himself down and eyeballed his foe, a massive overgrown blob with arms and legs. Asher couldn’t really make heads or tails of what the thing was but it sure knew how to hit and had been seconds away from flattening some poor bystanders before he’d gotten in its way and got its attention. A handful of people were still trying to seek refuge under tables and behind the bar, Asher would need to distract the monster and find a way to get them out before he could really unleash some fire.

Asher was hoping that at the very least the first wave of attendees that had fled the scene screaming hysterically might draw some form of authority or someone that could help manage the bystanders. Then Asher could really focus on beating this thing down but for now his goal was to merely distract it long enough to formulate a better plan.

As the patrons ran away, Luna squeezed her way past them. Mighty esper she may have been, but being short always meant there was a risk of being swept away by a crowd. She pulled herself through the alleyway and looked around. It didn’t take long to notice the confused monster flailing about.

”A Shoggoth?” The words were barely heard by anyone. Most of the patrons had fled. Everyone that remained was trying to hide. Who knew what they were registering this event as? ”Uh, what would you do in this situation, Stacy?” She watched the translucent blob closely. Its eyes and all of its organs floated around in its transparent mass. Its stomach, notably, looked empty. ”Wait!” Luna waved her arms. ”It’s just hungry! Is there any food left? Anything we can feed it at all?”

When Asher had been hoping for assistance he’d been looking for some form of civilian police or at least someone that could do something about the remaining people trapped and trying to hide. Instead what he got was what looked like a couple of children, maybe they were espers too, but to Asher it just looked like a couple of kids in the wrong place at the wrong time. One of them began waving her arms yelling something about food, Asher of course was too focused to understand the query or anything about the newcomers. So he did the sensible thing, he put the two newcomers behind him and kept his eyes focused front and center on the big scary monster. “You kids need to get out of here, I need to get this thing outside and away from all these people so I can finally take care of business.” As if to accentuate the underlying meaning behind his words Asher conjured up a small fireball and sent it soaring towards the Shoggoth. Of course Asher was clueless as to the fact that the two newcomers were definitely not just children and would likely not agree with his aggression.

Thankfully, unlike her partner, Ciri wasn't short. She really wasn't. She was— not the tallest person around ever, but definitely not short. Hell no. Not even if... Luna was talle—

The point was that she didn't stay out of the crowd because she was afraid of being swept away, but because she needed some space to assess the situation and summon some help accordingly.

Which she would have been doing, if some freaky dude with a freakish hairdo hadn't shoved his way in front of them and— started blasting the apparently hungry Sloggoth with fire. Because of course this guy’s first instinct was to try and kill everything that didn’t look strictly human. Was he a GEMINI? A Freelancer? In the end, it didn’t matter; they were all the same.

"The he— are you deaf?!" She screamed from behind the apparent Esper, trying to kick him square in the lower back. "She said we gotta feed it! And not with fire! If you don't plan to actually help, just go feed your dumb ass to it!"

A swift kick from behind interrupted any train of thought Asher had going. It hadn’t really felt the kick so much as felt the force shoving him forward, for the reason it took a second to register that he’d actually been kicked. As it sunk in Asher’s anger rose and with a look of bewilderment on his face he whirled around, red eyes alighting upon Ciri who’d suddenly decided to assault him. “What the hell? Are you blind? What are you talking about, feed it? There’s people in danger here and you’re worried about feeding it?!” Asher asked, completely bewildered by the newcomers' priorities.

Asher took a step back out of caution, now wary of the monster behind him and the two newcomers ahead of him who very well could be hostile. He took a slightly defensive position as he started trying to reassess the situation. There were only a handful of people who hadn’t made it out in the first wave, probably the ones too afraid to move on their own. Asher wasn’t certain that they’d be safe if left alone but if these two actually turned hostile he wasn’t liking his odds, too many priorities.

All he’d wanted was a drink and some relaxingly shitty tunes tonight, somehow instead he found himself embroiled in a mess of epic proportions. So far that’s how things were going in this city, all in all he’d be leaving a nasty review on Tripadvisor at this rate.

God, this guy was a moron! Which was actually a shame, because it turned out he actually had a pretty cool getup. He had a skull for a face, too! Ugh, too bad that apparently made him a bonehead.

Ciri kept glaring daggers at him, apparently hard enough to make the dude back off - the first sensible thing she'd seen him do. "What do you mean ‘what am I talking about’, this isn't rocket science!" she jabbed a finger towards the monster. "Give that thing a goddamn snack and the people won't be in danger anymore! It's not hostile because it wants to be."

But she was about to, if this guy didn't start being helpful, like, yesterday.

Record scratch, ‘What?” Asher asked, dumbly.

"'What'"? Ciri repeated, angrily.

What seemed so simple to Ciri was in fact rocket science to Asher. In all the time Asher had been an esper he’d never heard anyone talk about monsters like they actually knew something about them. Admittedly, that was only for two years, and he’d spent most of his time traveling around. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that Pax Septimus was one of the more populated locations he’d found himself in recently. Asher had only ever seen monsters as angry dangerous creatures wreaking havoc, and then came along some shortie with horns talking some nonsense about feeding it instead. True to his nature, Asher acted accordingly.

She could practically hear all the little cogs in the guy's head turning, as he tried very hard to work out her very simple instructions. This guy had to be a freelancer, there was no way GEMINI had the patience for him. "Any fucking time now, Einst-"

“LISTEN!” Asher yelled as he took a more offensive stance. “You better start talking some sense because you’re not making any of it! I’ve barely been in this city a week and this is the second time I’ve been attacked unprovoked, I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about! Start talking or it’s going to start getting hotter than hell in here!” Asher barked out. As if to accentuate his meaning flames began to gently kindle to life up and down Asher’s arms and the fire burning in his skull grew in intensity.

Oh, great. He was one of those guys who got a temper when they didn't understand shit. Which in this guy's case must've meant all the damn time. Did she really have to start throwing down with this guy in the middle of an evacuation situation? Cause she would. She fucking would. Unless—

Ciri narrowed her eyes. In his head, Asher would hear a clear whisper of: "Oi. Your fly's down."

If it was enough to distract him and make him look down, he wouldn't see what was coming next. If it wasn't, he would. Either way, Ciri bent her knees, pushed her head down — and launched herself into a horned headbutt.

Hopefully, if it connected, it'd be enough to knock some sense into him. Or, barring that, knock a few teeth out, or something.

Asher knew his fly wasn’t down, totally knew, he was totally wearing sweats tonight. He was also transformed, so that wasn’t really gonna happen anyways.

Didn’t stop him from instinctually checking anyways, it wasn’t even really a conscious decision so much as a habit ingrained into his subconscious like the need to giggle after a fart. But, as clueless as Asher might be, this wasn’t his first time around the block.

Ciri slammed into him unexpectedly but Asher was quick to react himself as he shoved her back just enough to make room before he met her head on, literally. Asher brought his forehead down to meet Ciri’s in a clash of wills as her horns scraped against his head and the fires in his eyes grew in intensity. With a frustrated growl Asher began shoving back against Ciri as the two locked heads like two mountain goats.

[i][color=#7e4393]Tch.[color][/i]

Ciri gritted her teeth as the two Espers' heads collided with a resounding crack. The impact was hard enough that had they not been transformed, their literal butting of heads would've likely resulted in at least a splitting headache. As things were, the resulting pain was more just a nuisance. Just like this fucking guy.

"Oww! You could've dodged it if you saw it coming, what the fuck kind of an idiot headbutts someone back?!" Ciri shouted, holding her forehead. "Are you a literal numbskull?!"

“Nah, but I’m pretty hard headed!” Asher quipped back with a grin.

While Ciri and Asher got to know one another, Luna seemed to be the only one addressing the shoggoth. It wasn’t too keen on getting in between the feuding espers. Meanwhile, Luna looked a bit more manageable.

”Seriously guys?” She said breathlessly. Rather than leaving the establishment, Luna ran inside of it. The hungry hungry shoggoth flailed its limbs as it gave chase.

While glaring up at the skull guy, Ciri happened to catch a glimpse of her partner behind him, heading deeper into the venue with the monster hot on her heels. Monster whose... existence Ciri had all but forgotten by now. Shit.

"Whatever, I don't have time for this. Just stay the hell out of my way," she snapped at Asher, before trying to shove past him and catch up to Luna. Hopefully, she hadn't been devoured by their target by then.

This time Asher made no move to oppose her as Ciri rushed after her companion and the monster who’d started this fiasco. Asher’s blood was boiling and he wanted to give chase, if only because he’d felt provoked, but one look around the room quickly reminded him of his actual goal as well.

The inside of the bar had been closed off for the outdoor venue, but there were still plenty of tables set up for normal dining. Or at least they were until the flailing monster knocked them over in its mad dash. Luna slid over the countertop and shoved past the double doors that lead into the kitchen. The shoggoth rolled over, pouring into place on the other side.

With the monster right behind her, Luna didn’t spend much time taking stock of the kitchen. She was next to a sub making station which had a shelf filled with foot long rolls, and below it were several refrigerated bins that held all the toppings. She used a spatula to slather mayo on an open roll before heaping on whatever she thought would be good. Should she have been wearing gloves? Probably, but she had washed her hands about an hour ago and had only touched Pit Boss and the counter since then. It would be fine.

The Shoggoth emerged. It reached towards her with a slimy tentacle, and Luna held out the hoagie. The tentacle prodded the sub a few times before drawing it into itself. The sub floated inside its gelatinous mass, slowly breaking down before Luna’s eyes. She held up her finger to the monster before preparing another sandwich.

With the two newcomers and the monster having left Asher behind as they rushed towards the kitchen he quickly took advantage of the situation.

“Listen up! If you haven’t left yet then now's the time to move your ass! Don’t make me tell you twice!” Asher yelled around the room. It didn’t take long for the few stragglers to put a pep in their step and finally rush from the venue. With business having been taken care of Asher turned his attention towards the kitchen as he debated intervening. As much as he felt like following behind so he could pummel that creature he also had to consider that the two newcomers had already shown aggression towards him when he’d attacked prior. Asher deemed it better to hang back and wait and perhaps the second of the two might be more apt to explain what was going on.

That was if they came out of the kitchen, Asher would take care of things if they didn’t of course. Just had to wait.

By the time Ciri got there, Luna was feeding the creature another sandwich.

”It seems to be working!” She started making a third sandwich.

"There you are! Thank fuck you’re still ali—”

”See if you can find a dessert, I think it’s getting tired of sandwiches.”

The shoggoth grumbled.

"Dessert?!” Ciri came to a halt at the kitchen's entrance, eyes darting between Luna, the sloggoth and the station for subs. Right. Okay.

A quick look around the kitchen didn't reveal any ready-made desserts waiting to be offered up, which was pretty weird. Did people order dessert before actual food nowadays? That was so wrong — and so respectable.

"I'll fix somethin’ up, sec," Ciri promised, sliding over to the closest countertop to take inventory. Alright, dessert. She didn't exactly have time to bake anything, so something quick and fresh would have to do. Like... like a smoothie? Weren't they all the damn rage nowadays? If influencers were to be believed anyway. Now what did they put in those things again?!

Greens. Right, greens—

Hastily, Ciri harnessed the might of her culinary skills, tossing pretty much any relatively healthy or green looking thing she could find into the blender. To her credit, she found some berries and a stray banana. Unfortunately, she also found celery, Brussels sprouts, and an unlabeled container of something so disgusting it had to be healthy.

"Bottom's up, big guy!" she shouted not a moment later, sliding up to the monster and chugging her suspicious concoction, container and all, straight towards its hungry maw.

Shoggoth must not have had taste buds, because they downed that in one go. Already the monster seemed like it was starting to calm down. Its stomach looked like it was at maximum capacity, and it ceased its erratic movements. One of its tentacles patted Ciri on top of her head before retracting it.

Seeing her dessert do the trick, a genuine, triumphant smile found its way on Ciri's face. See! She knew she was a good chef, no matter what anyone said.

The tentacle pat was too much, though.

”Alright!” Luna placed her hands on her hips. ”Now we just have to guide him down to the bastion without getting into any more fights.” She poked her fingers together. ”That big burly burning guy, is he still around? It looked like the two of you were really into it.”

"What? Into what?!" Ciri snapped, shooing away the already-retracting tentacle. "If you mean he was into being a fucking dumbass and I was into making him pay for it, then yeah, I guess."

_{”At least I didn’t imply you guys were dating.”}

Ciri shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant. It didn't last long; as they started to guide the monster outside, Ciri couldn't help but try and peer ahead. "... God I hope he's no longer around."

Asher wasn’t really the patient type, and Ciri had just looked forward with enough time to catch sight of the kitchen doors flying open as Asher strode in ready to whoop some ass. And then he stopped cold, a quizzical expression coming over his face. Not only had the big scary monster calmed down, it seemed like the two girls were leading it almost like a pet or something. Asher first looked at the girl he’d already had a run in with and was preparing to speak before almost seeming to decide better. Instead he turned to the other, who he’d not really spoken to yet.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, the confusion evident in his voice from twenty miles away. It wasn’t a long shot to say that Asher was a very readable individual.

Speak of the… Ciri glanced over to Luna. ”Congrats, you get to deal with him now.”

Luna had made a sub for the road, just in case the monster got hungry again. Her grip on the hoagie tightened and her eyes shifted side to side. ”Well…” She pointed over her shoulder at the monster. ”I noticed the Shogoth’s stomach was empty, so I led it into the kitchen to feed it. Now that it’s been pacified, we were going to take it to a safe place.” She blinked, unsure if he was understanding. ”Most monsters are like animals. They aren’t good or bad, they just exist in a world that doesn’t understand them. You don’t always need to kill an animal that seems dangerous. Sometimes you just need to pacify it and drop it off at the park.”

Ciri nodded. Luna was doing okay, actually. Good for her.

She smiled as her confidence returned. ”I’m Tetrad! Finding non-lethal ways to deal with monsters is sort of my job. Our job, actually,” She patted Ciri’s shoulder to encourage her to introduce herself.

“You don’t have to tell him everything!” Ciri snapped, “He didn’t ask for introductions!”

One could say that the fact they were Mavericks was pretty obvious if you thought about it, but Ciri firmly believed this guy had not and would never have thought about it, had Luna not just… blurted it out, so that sucked. Oh well. Tetrad did not seem to think this was a big deal though, if her raised eyebrow was anything to go by.

Ciri turned to Asher. “Yeah, as you can see, we got things handled over here. So scram.”

Asher looked between the two espers for a moment, a look of annoyance coming over his face as Ciri spoke, “Not a fan of your tone to be honest, if I remember correctly you attacked me while being the newcomer to the scene. You’re lucky I had the restraint not to decide to just whoop your ass in the moment.” Asher responded with a side-eye aimed at Ciri.

“Oh yeah, it was definitely your amazing restraint that kept you from whooping my ass. Sure.” Ciri rolled her eyes.

Asher’s gaze returned to Tetrad, “So…anyways…you guys are basically like animal control, but for monsters?” Asher asked as he absentmindedly scratched the back of his head. Asher couldn’t help but approach the pacified Shoggoth, all this time he’d spent beating monsters up and it had never crossed his mind that he could basically be beating on a wild dog.

“So are they all like that? Every monster? They’re just like wild animals?” Asher asked as he started trying to make more sense of things.

Luna’s smile grew. She nudged Ciri with her elbow before responding. ”They aren’t all like wild animals. This one is, yes. But there are smarter ones that are capable of communicating with humans, and smarter ones that just can’t speak. Not every monster can be saved, but we try to do what we can.”

Ciri raised a brow at the nudge, not getting why Luna was being all smiley. What, did she think she was getting through to this guy? That she was about to change his wicked ways, or something? Yeah, right. Wishful thinking.

With a heavy, tired sigh, Ciri joined in on her partner’s effort anyway.

“It’s more like… a bunch of them are like humans, pretty much. There are good ones, there are shitty ones, and there are dumbass ones.” She gave Asher a pointed look. “Humans are far more likely to kill shit just cause they can though — and feel morally superior about it after.”

The shoggoth twisted and pointed its “head” at Asher, clearly skeptical of the one it had previously been fighting. But it did not lash out. It stood its ground, waving its tendrils about.

“Well…” Asher started as he crossed his arms and locked gazes with the shoggoth momentarily, “I see, so even this world is more complicated than it seems on the service huh…”

Huh?

Ciri crossed her arms, her angry expression giving way to a hint of curiosity. She didn’t know what was going on in that painfully thick — seriously, she was getting a headache from the earlier impact — head of his, but if she hadn’t known better, she could’ve sworn he was… actually contemplating their stance. No way though, right? No fucking way?

Suddenly as if he’d made up his mind about something Asher gave a small clap and nodded to himself, “Right! Well you two really do seem to have this situation under control and I was only ever really here for a drink. I’m gonna leave things in your hands, go find me something to drink, and go find me somewhere to drink it. Look me up on Shimr, maybe. I’m kind of curious about this monster taming gimmick.”

With that Asher turned on his heel and made for the door, wordlessly throwing up one hand in farewell. Luna waved back to him.

Wait, was he just going to leave? Just like that?! Ciri blinked after the guy, contemplating on shouting something after him just because, when Luna piped up.

”Did you see that?” She tossed the sandwich to the Shoggoth without looking at it and folded her arms. ”I do think we got him to change his mind! That’s not something I’ve seen many freelancers do! I wonder if he’s available…”

“... Availabl—”

Before Ciri could respond, Luna nudged her again. ”I’m kidding, of course! Probably. You never know! That said, we should probably take him up on his deal to drink together later. All we need to do is look him up on Shimr!”

“Ugh, if you aren’t kidding, you need to seriously rethink your standards. Like ‘decided not to murder a newborn creature this time’ can’t be your only damn criteria for a dude. Yeah, sure, I guess his whole skull thing was pretty cool, but…” Ciri rolled her eyes. “... Whatever, might as well see if his Shimr has anything embarrassing on it.”

Luna blinked. ”Did… He tell you his name?

Ciri narrowed her eyes, uncrossing her arms. “Wait, don’t tell me he—

”I don’t think he mentioned it to us.”

“... Dumbass.”