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17 days ago
Current Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
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1 yr ago
It is certainly not 'optimal', but it *is* doable, depending on what you want to do with it. You could go swords or valor bard and play them more like a warrior with some magical ability
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2 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
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2 yrs ago
Man do I love watching the circus
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Galahad Caradoc

Ranbu no Izayoi



The journey across the waves had been quiet and uneventful thus far, a welcome reprieve from the Kirins’ rather hectic adventures across Osprey. Even with how chaotic life on a pirate's ship could be, at least the early morning found the deck a rather quiet place. The waves seemed to have calmed themselves for a moment, and while men still shouted shanties as they moved about on the deck, the place was quiet, at least relatively, and one of the crew men had even made mention of a rather large school of fish passing by the ship. Galahad hadn't had much in the way of time to engage in his hobbies since he'd left home what seemed like a lifetime ago. It seemed Etro had provided Galahad with the perfect for him to finally attempt to recompose his rather tattered patience.

Though perhaps the spirits were fickle deities, as Galahad stepped out onto the deck to find none other than Izayoi already having occupied his chosen space. He'd not been avoiding her, per say, they were for all intents and purposes, cohorts in this quest, but it'd be a long stretch to say they were friendly. Still, she'd likely heard him before seeing him, and his pride wouldn't let him give up such a prime spot with his tail between his legs.

”I hope I'm not interrupting your solace.” Galahad said as a way of greeting her, his tone even and softer, now that they were no longer jumping from battle to battlefield. He took up a place next to the mystrel, though still a decent distance away and began setting up his gear, a small pack sitting in between the two of them. ”Of all the things we've fought for thus far, I hadn't imagined I'd have to fight for a good fishing spot as well.“

”Hardly.” Izayoi afforded Galahad a brief nod as he set up near her. ”There’s no solace to be found on this shipful of pirates, regardless.”

Indeed, it wouldn’t be long before more sailors arrived on deck to start another day of belting out sea shanties as they worked.

”Hopefully, between the two of us, we can catch enough fish for a decent meal tonight. I tire of salt pork and hard bread already.”

She hadn’t exactly forgotten Galahad’s occasional snipes towards her, but considering the chance she’d personally killed his brother was extremely high, Izayoi had largely been letting them slide. Still, at least he seemed personable enough today.

”I thought I loved pork.” Galahad agreed, ”But after being on this ship, I'm sure I could die happy without eating a piece of pig again.”

The quiet fell in, perhaps somewhat awkwardly– save for the ever present chanting of sea shanties- as their fishing lines flew into the water, the inevitable waiting beginning. Setting down on a stool he'd swiped from one of the cabins, Galahad reached into his pack and fished out a small knife and a half carved chunk of wood. This particular chunk was possibly a chair leg in a previous life, but was slowly taking the shape of a small chocobo. Within a few minutes, the deck between his feet began to cover with slight wood shavings as the small knife began to slowly coax the chocobo out of the chair leg.

”Supposedly, fishing is not unlike dragon hunting.” Galahad murmured idly, ”Setting bait to lure, patience, things like that- I guess, ignoring the fact that fish usually don't try to eat you.”

”I'm not sure if I really buy into that.“ Galahad scoffed, ”I just like the quiet that usually comes with it.”

”All hunting is the same in principle.” Izayoi replied, contenting herself with gazing out over the open sea as she waited for a bite. ”In practice, rarely so. Though I’ve only hunted a dragon but once, I would agree that comparing it to fishing is merely being reductive.”

Perhaps in response to Galahad's desires for quiet, his line suddenly grew taught mid-carve. Normally he'd have enough time to set his knife down and grab the rod, but not so this time as the rod nearly flew out of the crook of his arm, the length of it bending as though it threatened to snap.

Izayoi glanced to the side at the commotion, watching with interest as Galahad began to struggle in his suboptimal position. That lasted for but half a moment as she realized that any missed fish was a net negative for everyone overall, herself included. With a sigh, she set her own rod down and was at Galahad’s side in a single breath, seizing the rod from where he’d tucked it into his arm.

”Ordinarily, I would watch you struggle.” She murmured through grit teeth as the fish fought hard against the line. ”Not so when this is the difference between a palatable dinner and more godsforsaken ship’s biscuits.” Izayoi began to reel in, giving a bit of slack in the line so that it didn’t snap.

”Never took you as the type to think with your stomach.” Galahad grunted in reply, finally able to stash his knife and take control of the rod. Whatever other quips Galahad mightve had were quickly silenced as he found that this particular catch required quiet concentration he hadn't quite expected. Perhaps fishing was more like hunting than he cared to admit. As the fish broke water and began to lift, it became quickly apparent that it was heavier than the line was capable of supporting. ”Hold it steady.” Galahad said as dove back into his bag to grab his knife. ”Can't believe I'm about to use martial abilities for a fucking fish.” he grumbled before leaping off the side of the boat, using a railing to swing himself over at an angle.

There was a heavy thud as Galahad collided with the fish– and then the side of the boat. A half second later, there was the sound of boots on wood and the Dragoon was in the air again, up and over, back onto the deck of the ship, with possibly the largest tuna he'd ever seen in hand. Almost comparable in height to Eve, Galahad looked quite proud of himself, and opened his mouth to say something to his own credit before the giant sea creature flopped, a powerful fin smacking him in the head and sending both man and fish crashing onto the deck.

Despite, or perhaps in spite of present company, Galahad couldn't help but laugh, the first genuine laugh he'd had since they left on this journey, if just because of the absurdity of it all.

”...Snrk.” Izayoi couldn’t help but let a snort loose upon watching the tuna smack Galahad in the face. Nevertheless, she composed herself quickly and moved to help Galahad up, the tuna flopping helplessly on deck.

”A finer catch than any I’ve seen. That beast would keep a small family fed for days.” She eyed the behemoth of a fish with no small amount of hunger, her eyes lingering on the belly.

”Regardless, that was an…inspired fishing technique.” Izayoi passed Galahad’s rod back to him, going to pick her own back up.

”Hah,’inspired’. I'd rather not let it be known that I had to use dragoon techniques to do in a fish. “ Galahad said as Izayoi helped him up, the chuckle slowly leaving his lungs. ”It was a fine catch though, and I am thankful for your assistance.”

”A family of four perhaps, but perhaps the Kirins for only a night, if we feast on this beast the way I believe we will,“ Galahad's eyes had a twinkle, a rare sense of boldness and pride outside of martial discipline. A simple thing, but perhaps needed after their struggles in Osprey. Before he could celebrate their victory more, Galahad paused, realizing something.

”Wait a moment. Did… Did you just laugh at me?“ He asked the Mystrel samurai incredulously. ”I didn't know you had it in you.” Galahad chuckled again, ”First beaten by a fish, now slain by words. What an odd day.”

”At you? Of course.” Izayoi nodded, noting a bite on her line. ”I am entirely capable of finding humor in things. It simply does not happen often. And you are welcome.”

”Could've fooled me.“

It was to her disappointment that she reeled her fish in much more easily than Galahad did, plucking a moderately-sized grouper off her line. It would have been respectable on any other day, but next to Galahad’s monstrous tuna, everything else paled in comparison. Izayoi’s ears flattened slightly against her head as she dropped the grouper into the bucket, but she baited her hook and cast her line out once more.

”I confess that I still find it difficult to wrap my head around the scale of the priest’s words. I had not been focusing upon them overmuch until now.”

”He more or less told us we're responsible for the safety of the world.” Galahad agreed with a nod, sitting down by the massive fish as he jabbed his blade into it to end its struggle. ”Or at least just the continent- and everyone on it. Hard to put in perspective when you really think about it.”

”We're less than a dozen. A veritable group of misfits from all walks of life. Sometimes I wonder if we'll really be able to pull it off– and without killing each other in the process.” Galahad scoffed. ”You'd think the end of the world as we know it would be good motivation.”

Galahad paused, quiet for a moment of contemplation. ”Last we spoke, you said you had little to live for. Do you still feel that way?“

”...Perhaps I do.” Izayoi murmured quietly, her tail curling. ”But it is irrelevant now. So long as the priest was not speaking falsehoods, our mission takes precedence. Accomplishing what Cid desires incidentally guarantees Valheim’s demise. So long as I have my opportunity to slay that witch Reisa, I will be satisfied. Why do you ask, anyway?” She fixed Galahad with a stare.

”Concerned that I may retract my standing offer?”

”Mostly curiosity. I've yet to find a reason to doubt your convictions.” Galahad admitted, with a grunt, knife cutting into the large tuna as he began to clear out its innards. ”But with everything that's happened lately, and with Hien and Ciradyl back in your life. I was curious if your perspectives have changed at all.”

”When we first met, you walked like a woman with a death wish, and to an extent you still do.”

Izayoi stayed silent for several moments, naught but the sound of the waves, the sailors, and Galahad’s knife filling the air. When she finally did speak, her voice was downcast.

”...Once this is all finished, Lord Hien can stand upon his own two feet. Without the need for her sword, Ranbu no Izayoi’s presence would serve only to overshadow and undermine his authority. As for Ciradyl, she and I will always be among the closest of friends. But we lead vastly different lives. What makes her happy in life will not apply for myself, and vice versa.” She laughed bitterly.

”They do not need me, Caradoc. I can come to their aid should they call, and check in upon them, but I cannot be a constant presence in their lives should I wish the best for them. Fret not, though. I still have every intention of fulfilling my promise. The only difference is that should we succeed in our goals, I may not let you win after all.” Izayoi revealed the last part with a crooked smirk.

”If we both make it out of this alive, I think I'd give you a solid run for your money.” Galahad retorted, ”You may not have a choice in whether or not I win.”

With a grunt, Galahad pulled the rest of the innards out of the fish, tossing them into a nearby bucket as he did. ”I think you're wrong though. They might not need Ranbu no Izayoi, but I think they might still have need of Izayoi.”

”Provided we all actually live through this, anyway.” Galahad chuckled, as he began to heft the great tuna. ”Hey, stow the rod and help me with this. This one was as much your catch as it was mine.“



"Aw, Howie, I like her. She's fun~" Sabine said to her fellow pilot, obviously referring to Selene, despite the Constellation still being well and truly still a part of the conversation. "That one too- I love a pair of big, strong arms." The pink haired pilot said about Rudis, "Does that make me sound basic?"

Any confirmation or denials about how basic Sabine mightve been were quickly thrown to the wayside as the Commander's attack was approved, the orbital strike rolling in like thunder and lightning from the heavens. It wasn't the first time Sabine had seen an orbital bombardment, and it wouldn't be the last, but Sabine always enjoyed the occasional combat fireworks display. Though the fireworks did mean it was time to go.

"Sucks to be the poor fucks that have to deal with that mess." Sabine snickered as she quickly broke down her hammock and began packing away her gear back into her mech with practiced efficiency. "Give me a holler if you want a lift!" Sabine called to the Constellations as she climbed into the White Hare's open chest cavity and disappeared within, the door closing moments later, sealing her within the darkness.

Settling in her seat, Sabine flicked a few switches before buckling herself in, the inky darkness of the cockpit giving way to the world around her as the cockpit flickered to life. The walls of the cockpit formed a seamless 360 degree display of the world around her, her helmet glass filling in for some of her HUD elements, as data scrawled over the rest of the screens. Sleek, modern, intuitive, with her years of experience and a control system perhaps tailor made for her, at some point in time the White Hare had eventually started feeling like a second skin to Sabine, her hands falling naturally onto the controls and augments automatically syncing to the systems.

"Good luck boys~" Sabine's voice echoed through both the local tacnet and the mech's external speakers as the White Hare kicked up a mechanical foot and flashed the moving infantrymen a peace sign.


It was wishful thinking to hope that they could avoid all the aberrants in their path- not that Sabine in particular wanted to anyway. A more rapid strike with just mechs and Constellations mightve had a chance at slipping through, but with infantry and vehicles, they were moving at the rate of their slowest units. It wasn't long before they were set upon by by a wave of Aberrants.

"Don't blow everything just yet fellas." Sabine's lilting voice crackled over the squad net, the muzzle of the White Hair's beam cannon flaring as she put down some suppression fire. "There's still a royal bitch out there."

Normally, a horde of pawns wouldn't have been an issue, but the Knights that had dropped them off seemed to be sticking around, Sabine ducking into cover as a burst of laser fire streaked past her and into the impromptu foxhole of a trio of unfortunate infantrymen. Howie was quick on the draw, vocalizing Sabine's thoughts before she had a chance to say anything.

"Just admit you like watching my ass when I fly by." Sabine drawled over the squadnet, and while Howe couldn't see her face through the polarized faceplate of her helmet, it was easy to tell she was winking. The proverbial ass of the White Hare was already lifting off the ground as Sabine kicked off into the sky, its limbs folding in as she switched to flight mode. The thrusters flared bright blue as the machine screamed into the sky, rocketing through the formation of Jetsams, sonic boom disrupting their flight path. Her helmet was forced into the back of her seat as the cockpit struggled to deal with the sudden increase in G-force, Sabine relying mostly on her peripherals and her own sense of spatial awareness to keep her hands on the controls, pulling into a stall turn to send her careening back down towards the irritating knights.

Sabine banked her mech, taking herself on a collision course towards the first Jetsam she saw. At the last moment Sabine pulled up hard on her controls, and triggered her unit's transformation sequence again, the aerospace fighter shifting back into a bipedal mech in time to collide with the Jetsam feet first, as though she were on a mech sized skateboard. The White Hare's thrusters flared as Sabine forced the Jetsam to turn with her, putting it between her and another Jetsam. She planted the barrel of her beam cannon against the surface of the Knight and fired once, then twice, the high powered beams punching through one knight to hit the second.

Sabine barely had time to savor her kills when a warning appeared in the corner of her vision, laser fire scraping across her mech's armor as she instinctively kicked off the knight she'd been riding and strafed to the side. The attacking knight screamed past her, the White Hare shifting back into flight mode to give chase. The nose of her mech flared as Sabine pressed down on the firing studs, a stream of bright blue bolts flying after the Knight as Sabine chased it down.

"Howie! Give me a burst of 20s, 2 o'clock high." Sabine called out, her voice like syrup over the tacnet, her mech quickly passing a firing solution over to his Vickie.
Rathello




At least for the moment, the dungeon still felt like relative child's play. Rathello saw no need to go all out on a basic encounter- especially not this early into the dungeon, and rather contented himself to just keep his Intimidating Presence up while punching the marrow out of the skeletons. Frontlining was somewhat different in ToE, at least compared to other MMOs. In most MMOs, how much damage you took was based on your stats- and to a degree this was still the case, when it came to evasion, you literally had to use your body to duck and dodge out of the way. Stats could effect how fast you moved, but if you tripped yourself up, you'd still fall, and your reaction time was still the same as it was in real life.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Rathello juked and jived, dodging what hits he could, while tanking which ones he couldn't or didn't feel like. Perks of having a good healer was that so long as he wasn't entirely reckless, with his natural regen stats, he'd basically stay fully topped off on health the whole fight. His fist flew like lightningbolts, literal lightning coursing through the bones of the skeletons as his gauntlets made impact. An uppercut took down one, and a flurry of jabs and crosses took out a second before the rest of the party finished wrapping up.

"Ah, over before it started." Rathello commented as they did their post fight routines. As expected, Elian worked well with him. Claudia and the death knight fit well as well. The ranger had an attitude problem, not that he was necessarily wrong, but it didn't particularly help. "Backliners," Rath was mostly addressing Goibnu the newest to dungeon raiding, but used the broader term as to not single him out, "Remember to keep moving around, even if you're not the active target. Even just a little bit keeps you from being a sitting duck. My Aggro draws most of them, but some of the guy later on can get tricky- the ones with bows or ranged weapons especially like to go for static targets.

As the others began to check out the room for loot, Rath seemed more than content to just plop himself onto the floor, letting what slight damage he still had regenerate naturally. "If anyone spots any ores, let me know! Otherwise I'm gonna rest my legs."
Hey sorry, I think it's my go! Had a busy weekend, but I'll get something out tonight!
ECHO DOMAIN - PLATFORM #2884


The mass of Echo's endoform was already waiting for the rest of the squad in the armory, as the slowly filed in. Seemingly having already begun preparations, a semi-rigid duffel bag was mounted to his back as though it were an infantryman's waist bag, and as well as a number within easy reach all across its shoulders, chest and legs. Already they were filled to the brim with supplies Echo believed they would need for the operation. Cutting and demolition tools, emergency rations for the organics, energy cells, multi-spectrum trauma-kit, and plentiful ammunition for Echo's weapons of choice.

At the Endoform's feet were a series of smaller saddlebag style pouches to be thrown over each squad member's attending microform, the Endoform casually chucking each over the backs of the microforms as they approached. These too were fully loaded, primarily with the essentials tailored to their particular squad members. Spare ammunition for their particular weapons, emergency first-aid kits for their specific biology, replacement armor plates and emergency rations. Syringe rounds for Alice's rifle, energy cells for Salvator's gear, grenades for Kleo. King's microform in particular didn't have much in is saddlebag, mainly because Echo was unsure what physical supplies it actually required.

"Notification: Coming through." The Endoform announced as it moved past Salvator and the support team member he was speaking to. Echo could vaguely tell that the support team was attempting to be antagonistic, though not outright hostile- or else Echo would've put them down. It did not particularly understand the purpose of such conversation, nor did it particularly care. The term 'hazing' came to its many minds, but the understanding of the definition was elusive at best.

"Notification: This platform shall be responsible for maintaining communications over long distance. Request: Reduce unnecessary use of communication networks for optimal performance." The large frame monotoned as it approached another set of workbenches. One of the microforms attended and Echo quickly went about making field modifications to its new weapons as well.

Close quarters and the risk of sudden depressurization meant that the autocannons would likely be staying on the Warform as opposed to be carried by the Endoform, so its recently procured weapons would have to fit the bill. Both had their stocks and sights removed- as they were unnecessary, and the scattergun was mounted to its forearm, its firing method slaved to one of the Endoform systems for hands free firing. The rifle was mounted with a heavy duty carry handle, and had its barrel replaced with a considerably thicker and heavier barrel for sustained fire. The magazine was replaced with a sealed belt that fed directly from an ammunition pack mounted to the Endoform's back.

"Notification: Platform preparations complete."
Galahad Caradoc



The exit from Tane's stronghold was a fairly simple business, all things considered. Most of the remaining thugs had routed, preferring to loot and flee rather than stand and fight. A reasonable, if somewhat cowardly choice of action. All in all, no major injuries sustained by any of the Kirins, and for better or for worse, they were all back home- with perhaps some additional cargo, specifically the gun Eliane insisted on returning with. Galahad could only imagine what she planned to do with it, but he supposed it was better in their hands than the enemy's. That only left one last thing to deal with.

Ciradyl.

In the moment, Galahad was enraged by her apparent treachery. She knew exactly what their stakes were, and why they were going, yet choosed to ignore them all for the sake of her vengeance. It felt something akin to a miliary tribunal, the way they were all arranged around the meeting table. Some stood, others sat, Arton broke the table. Galahad, still in his armor, sat in one of the chairs spared by the young swordsman's wrath, a hand nursing his temples as he idly watched his helmet roll off the broken table and clatter to the ground.

Of the lot of them, Izayoi certainly new Ciradyl best, and was the most direct in her questioning. Was it true, and why? Luckily for them, Ciradyl was rather forthcoming with the truth. Galahad's initial response was much like that of Arton's, if unspoken. She was a traitor, at the very least untrustworthy. If Galahad had been the man he was a year ago, he'd have executed her on the spot.

But, his perspective had changed in the past few months, dramatically, in no small part due to the fact that he'd been deemed a traitor by his own father. Esben broke it down for them, but political matters were never something Galahad had much of a mind, or patience for. It was days like this when he longed for the relative simplicity of the hunting lodges in Midgar. No reasoning or motives to decipher, just find a dragon and hunt it. These days, nothing was so simple anymore.

At the end of the day, Ciradyl's reasonings, motives and justifications made sense. Galahad had long since accepted the fact that working in the background often meant making unsavory choices so that others wouldn't have to get their hands dirty. Such a thing even reared its ugly head when Galahad was a part of Edren’s military. Dragoons by their nature were highly mobile, highly deadly shock troops able to reach far behind enemy lines. He'd be lying if he said every fight he engaged in was glorious or honorable. It appeared that such black operations were universal wherever you went: Edren, Skael, Osprey- wherever there were people, there would be a need for this type of work. Ciradyl truly looked like a broken shell of the woman they'd met just a little while ago. It wasn't as though he had a say on what happened in Osprean lands to Osprean people either- Izayoi seemed ready to absolve her of her deeds, and even Miina, who was the wronged party in the case of the Kirins seemed to pity her. Though it didn't necessarily mean Galahad had to like it.

"Sometimes I forget who I'm sitting next to." Galahad scoffed darkly as Izayoi compared her own actions against Ciradyl's. "But she's right. Many of us have had to make hard choices," his eyes flickered over to Rudolf, "or choices that have haunted us. I can understand the motives, respect them even, but that is not what concerns me at the moment."

"Tonight, our goals were practically the same. If you were so desperate to take Tane's head, you could've told us and I'd have gladly handed you the blade, after we finished interrogating her."
Galahad's eyes fixed her with the same piercing glare he'd put onto Rudolf nights before, harsh and cold. "We're of vastly different backgrounds and walks of life, but we're all working together. At the very least we should be able to help each other out. It's not as though we cannot band together to aid in the goals of one of our number- the fact that we worked with you to help Izayoi free Hien is living proof of that. I'd hope you think one of our own was worth such consideration as well. The fact of the matter is: tonight you betrayed us, Ciradyl. I for one shall not forget that, anytime soon."

Galahad stood and shook his head, ready for this to be done with. He scooped up his helmet from it's place on the floor, and settled it into the crook of his arm. His gaze returned to the silver haired bard, softening by a hair. "At the end of the day, in the case of the Kirins, we still got everything we came for, interference or not. If Miina holds no ill will towards you, I might not approve, but I will not object."

"Whether or not you find your penance is up to you. Do as you please." Galahad said with a callous sigh, turning away. "I've had enough of you for one night. I'll take my leave."
In SPIRITUM 3 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Gerard Biserus


Justices barriers had barely gotten up in time to block off the resulting explosion. A few beams of energy and waves of heat escaped from the gaps as the barriers cracked against the pressure, but the vast majority of the explosion was focused on what was within. There was a bright flash of light, a roar of pain and panic, and a cloud of smoke to obscure the insides of the impromptu barrier bowl.

Not that Gerard had much time to focus on all that. He'd barely pulled himself back up to his feet when Kali dumped the man at his feet. He would've questioned the rare oddity that was Kali requesting something, but his thoughts were very quickly interrupted as Collette pointed up and past his shoulder, a slightly toasty Silje flying through the air. While toasty was not an abnormal descriptor for the bombastic battle mage, flying was. With little time to check his surroundings, Gerard caught and threw the nearest object he could towards the girl to break her fall with a wave of telekinesis. An open crate flew from the ground in front of the RV and caught Silje midfall, a small poof of packing peanuts flying out of the box as the small WARDEN fit neatly inside. Perhaps not a 'soft' landing, but at least she didn't crash into the pavement beneath her.

Hooray for multitasking. Gerard grumbled to himself as he slowly let the Silje-box sink back to the ground, turning his attention to the man Kali had dropped in front of him. The man, all things considered, wasn't badly injured at all, save for a sizable lump on his head from where he impacted the pavement. Gerard murmured a quick spell as he grabbed some of the nearby mist and began pushing it into the man, forcing his body to speed up its own natural healing. Healing magic was a bit iffy with non-WARDEN types. WARDENs and other Mist users could handle the amounts of mist put into the body via healing magic, regular civilians? Not so much- Gerard could heal him, and in this case the man's injuries weren't severe, but too much too fast and the man would start feeling the symptoms of Mist burn a lot faster than they did.

As the smoke cleared up and the barriers disappeared, what was left was an empty dome, the ground carved up as the giant landshark had apparently dug itself back into the ground. Cooked bits of landshark meat, fangs, and bone were splattered about inside the barriers, denoting the severity of its injuries, but there was no sign of the shark itself save for a large hole in the ground. A wide tunnel continued for almost a hundred or so meters before Justice could sense the landshark finally stop moving, likely succumbing to its injuries.

"Fuck me, that was an exciting start to the morning." Gerard grumbled as he picked up a fang the size of his hand. Harder than steel and with razor sharp edges, the thing was practically a dagger. Even after chewing through a steel and aluminum vehicle, not a single scratch could be found on the tooth. With a slight shudder, he tossed it lightly towards Justice. " Good call on the barrier, imagine getting hit with this as shrapnel."

Ivan's eyes slowly opened, blinking for a moment before he shot up with a start. "Holy fuck I'm dead! I'm dying! Leg's fucked- I'm a goner. Done in by a fucking land fish! I can't believe- oh I'm okay." Within an instant, the shock on Ivan's face was quickly replaced with the toothy grin of a conman's smile. His face bore the expression of a grateful buffon, though his eyes remained sharp like a hawk's. "Ah! I've been saved! Thank you good sir, I owe you my life! Should you need anything just say the word, and I, Ivan Vorokov shall..." The man's voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the group and spotted Kali. "...provide."

"Fuck."
Rathello




It wasn't a dungeon without monsters, but still, Rathello could never get over how realistic everything looked- even the skeletons. When he first started playing, the undead looked rather off putting and frightening, but at this point, Rath was more or less used to them. He grunted in agreement as Elian called out their weaknesses, it was good to have a shotcaller like her. When he was in the thick of things, it was at times hard to pay attention to what was happening around them, so one of the mid liners were usually good to call out plays. Rath didn't exactly trust the Ranger's judgement, and Goibnu was brand new to dungeons, so Elian was the only real choice in his eyes. Rath would set the pace, Elian would make the play by play.

"Bludgeoning? That's convenient." Rath smirked as he stepped forward, the rest of the party summoning buffs and spells. Sparks crackled as he jammed his gauntleted fists together. The 'gauntlets' themselves looked more or less like leather gloves, but with metal embedded on the knuckles and fingers. He was lucky the game counted the gauntlets as a weapon and accessory rather than armor, allowing druids to make use of them.

Rath's Intimidating Presence activated, a faintly red aura spreading out around him to denote to the other players where the effective range of his aggro-drawing ability extended to. The skeletons were all close enough, and he grinned as the points of the spears turned towards him. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, as he felt Elian cast buffs on him, his shoulders hunching and arms raising in the stance of a boxer- perhaps a bit outlandish for the fantasy setting, but it was fun that way. The haste made him feel even lighter on his feet and the protection and heroism spells felt a bit overkill for just skeletons, but they'd last a while so they'd last at least a few fights.

"Alright, enough waiting around, let's get em." Rath called out, diving in with reckless abandon, heading straight towards the lead skeleton to deliver an electrically charged haymaker.
Should have something out tonight



Perhaps luckily for them, it was more or less agreed upon that a dynamic plan was better than a slow slough. Unsurprisingly, the Constellations were unafraid of throwing themselves into the fight- though at least one suggested taking a slightly more calculated approach. Perhaps it was the superpowers or top of the line gear and special weapons that made them so much more bold than the average man or woman. Perhaps in another life, Sabine might've resented the sort of cavalier attitude they all had towards danger- easy to do so when you were by and far the most dangerous thing in most people's lives, a bit harder when you were just a regular human. Though at this point, Sabine had stopped caring, a fight was a fight, and a soldier was a soldier; Constellation, pilot, grunt, didn't really matter anymore.

"Aww, Howie, are you keeping track? I like when you pay attention to me." The head of pink hair bobbed as Sabine offered a sweet, albeit fake giggle. "Besides, my last ration pack is riiight- there." Sabine added lightly, punctuating her statement by pointing at one of the empty ration wrappers at Rudis' feet. Sabine wasn't particularly worried about finding more sustenance in case the fight ended up dragging out longer than they liked- it wasn't hard to sweet talk grunts, and for better or for worse, there was no shortage of bodies and vehicles to scrounge supplies from in an environment like this.

Though it was a pleasant surprise to not have to go scrounging for a medkit, as one of the Constellations approached them. Usually, Constellations held a sort of lofty, almost holier-than-thou air about them, usually not deigning to do much more than order their MHA colleagues around. At least by Sabine's recollection, most never really approached them for much more than to bark orders, but perhaps they were just not good with small talk- being trained to be a weapon from incredibly young ages could probably do that to a person. Could it be that perhaps Sabine's attitude made them not like her? Impossible, surely. The Constellation in particular introduced herself to them as Selene. Soft, gentle, refined even, like talking to a noblewoman at tea time rather than the burnt out hotel they found themselves in.

"Merci, belle." Sabine offered Selene a broad, beaming grin as she graciously took the medipen, flipping it once or twice casually in her hand. "Aren't you just the sweetest? Don't mind Howie, he's always a bit of a stick in the mud, but he means well. Probably." Popping the cap of the pen open, Sabine quickly applied the analgesic gel to her burn. Her eyes flickered a bit with a wince, and her breath caught in her throat for a moment, but made no audible complaints otherwise. She breathed out a relaxed sigh as the antiseptic painkiller did its work. She'd slap a wrap over it once she got back to her machine, but for now this would do.

"Sabine." She said as a way of introducing herself, pulling out a noticeably full pack of cigarettes from a side pouch and offering the soft-spoken Constellation one, "But the other flyboys like to call me Rabbit. I'm flying the big white one right there." She jerked a thumb at her mech, parked just a few meters away, the once pristine white paintjob now scoured and sullied by scorchmarks and ricochetting shrapnel. A particularly large scorchmark on the side of the cockpit's torso lined up with the burn on Sabine's own side. Luckily, the stray blast hadn't punched through the hull, but the resulting heat had been strong enough to cause one of her side displays to short and blow.

"Looks like you guys get to do all the fun stuff, again, but I'm happy to wingwoman your date with royalty." Sabine chuckled, offering Selene an audacious wink, "Though I guess she doesn't know you Constellations are the one-night-stand type, huh?"
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