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A nod and a smile were the only assurances of attention Rio could offer to each of them during this turbulent time, his headache moving up in the world to become full blown nausea. Who knew that the desert heat only made motion sickness worse? Certainly not him, though it only made the young Huntsman a lot more appreciative of the conversation taking place as it provided him with something to focus on. He took note of what each of his companions had shared about themselves and found some common ground to the shared details: Fiona's studious diligence, Saffron's unprecedented undertaking with regards to familial legacy, and even Kohaku's lack of access to the luxury known as soda. These folks were alright in his book.

As they approached the bunker, the old war stories about his great grandpa began to flood back into the forefront of his mind. It had been some time since his mother had last told these anecdotes to Rio before his bedtime but the exciting adventures of the brave Vacuan rebels against Atlas imperialists always brought a smile to his face. This derelict site, however, did not bring any promise of exhilaration though it was going to be an adventure of sorts as Miss Lanatae described the expectations of their first ever mission as a team.

"Well, I'm no stranger to pest control. Never went out looking for Grimm inside caverns though." he would state after their accompanying Overseer finished laying out the details. Truth be told, he was more concerned about the state of the abandoned tunnels moreso than the reported Beowolves. Poison gas buildup, structure collapse cave-ins, dormant security systems, hidden bandit hideouts. These were just some of the few dangers that his uncle Mar Redcliffe had warned him of when spelunking, each one supposedly more dangerous than the last. Yet, those tales of caution weren't suppose to scare him. Quite the opposite, they were meant to make him aware of the real dangers a Huntsman would face in the wilderness.

As Rio contemplated on what obstacles they'd encounter inside, Kohaku had suggested a reasonable approach to their task. "Don't doubt yourself, miss Kohaku." he would state, noticing the stutter at the end of her statements. "Maybe we won't have ten paces between us 'nd the wall but I might be able to hold off the Grimm at that distance." Unloading his weapon from the back of the vehicle, Rio would display the Boatman's Due's full glory in its halberd mode. If they truly didn't have space to move around, least he could take point effectively and make sure their predators will think twice lest they impale themselves on his blade.




Two ships silently passing each other in the night. Yet, they both met their iceberg.

It was the noble decision to rescue the survivors of this unfortunate incident but Disker Isaacs was never one for outdated concepts of chivalry. No, he was entirely for the option of self-preservation which would have been to not get entangled in yet another Federation versus Zeon spat. But, he wasn't the man sitting at the head of the table and any protests from the unscrupulous engineer would merely fall on the metaphorical, and most likely literal, deaf ears of the captain. Must be nice to live up to an old age, he had thought as he observed the makeshift meal for the militaires from a dimly corner of the mess hall.

Such thoughts of mortality were common in his mind. The destructive power that even they, a non-military entity, could possess had been indicative of how fast the arms race had actually escalated for the Earthsphere since the start of the One Year War. Hell, even after working on reverse engineering the AMBAC system for the Federation, Disker couldn't believe the raw power they could harness just a decade and a half later. Even just a few hours earlier, the fruits of his research and from others like him had taken even more lives at a time of perceived peace... Such lamentation was a waste of time though; Disker had to redouble his efforts in trying to identify anyone from the survivors he might have known from that regretful time of his life.

As mentioned earlier, the crew of the Cathartes had no nation to call home but this didn't mean they left their enemies behind. After all, if any of these so-called survivors could identify the ex-Titan-gone-rogue researcher, Disker would probably see the end of a noose at the end of it all. Not to mention he wasn't the only prize on board for any Dakar lapdog looking to get a bounty big enough to retire with or a Zeon true believer looking to purge the cowards who abandoned the cause. Just thinking about all these very real and plausible security threats on board was enough to make the usually serene sniper exhale a sigh of exhaustion. Luckily, from his extensive effort, he concluded that none of these unfortunate souls were here on purpose. Just horrible circumstance.

Yet, this didn't put his mind at ease. He proceeded to the salvage bay in order to take a closer look at what Team 1 had brought on board, hoping to find any clues with regards to the assailants' identity. Disker suspected that they weren't the only ones being targeted by a conspiracy. "How convenient for two unaffiliated ships to get the same route in the vastness of space." he would mutter to himself as he left the mess hall, proceeding to his destination.
It was the oddest dream. There he sat, clutching his chest due to a shortness of breath, staring at what could only be described as a stress dream. Luso was not quite sure what to make of the odd contrast of a grassy field towered over by imposing communication infrastructure. Even odder the accessory latched on to his arm and, upon closer inspection, it looked quite familiar. He couldn't remember where exactly he saw it before, and the flashing "Welcome" message only served to taunt him further. It must have been one of the random items he got from Aleph's online catalogue but which one was it. None of them had been this visually intrusive.

The more he thought about it, the worse of a migraine he got. It didn't help that the dreamscape's sun light was certainly brighter to the cloudy weather he was used to. However, this only momentarily blinded him to fact that there were others with him. One of them had even verbalized the same sentiment of confusion Luso had, wondering where they were. This was obviously his subconscious manifesting itself, he rationalized. But why a small blonde girl?

Even in this new world, Luso was hesitant to approach the people around him. It shouldn't matter though as they were just gonna disappear the moment he wakes up, and so he proceeded to ignore the cries for help. Instead he moved towards the only noticeable feature beyond the horizon, the lone cell tower. Discovering the marked box with the symbol matching his own, the odd trinkets he found inside finally jogged his memory.

"I definitely got these for a retro game unboxing a few weeks ago." he said to himself, realizing that this lucid dream was definitely related to Aleph is some way.
<Snipped quote by Hero>

That's a lotta characters

A lot of boy characters


Just means we should have a FeMC like Persona 3 Portable. Bring on the reverse harem!





Rio Redcliffe was no stranger to a scorching trek across the forsaken trails of the Vacuan desert wastes. While this might sound like hell to most sane people, this was actually the leisure highlight of Rio's yearly summer camping trip with his extended family. However, this time was different. Treading on the dusty roads with an all-terrain jeep had given the country bumpkin motion sickness, seeing as this was among the handful of times he had been in a car. The assurance that it would only be a few more minutes until they reached their destination did ease his queasiness, though he was still glad that he had taken the rightmost seat of this open air vehicle in case he had an... emergency. Other than that though, Rio had been used to being crammed shoulder to shoulder into the back of a cart along with his cousins like a tin of sardines as his family ventured into the city market to sell produce every other fortnight. At least his teammates had the decency to use washing detergent moreso than his kin.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing Rio had noticed about his teammates and his accompanying Overseer. How a raucous brute like him got chosen to be among those seemingly more refined was quite the mystery. As Nivea spoke and encouraged the rest to speak, an opportunity to lift that shrouded veil soon presented itself. Soon after their chaperone had finished her introduction, Rio cleared his airways with a brief cough before speaking about himself.

"Ahem. S'rry about that, name's Rio Redcliffe." he would state, taking a quick glance at each of his teammates' faces before continuing on. "Like miss Lanatae, my family emigrated from one of the other kingdoms, in this case Mistral. How-ever, I'm as Vacuan as sand-spiced sarsaparilla on a scorching sunburner like t'day as I've been here all my life. It's a pleasure to make y'alls acquaintance." He had hope his earnest introduction had made a good impression on his team. After all, they were gonna look after each other from here on in.
As mentioned on Discord, here's my application.


I haven't heard from R2 in a bit but he should be posting soon from the looks of things.



_______________________________________________

Physical Description
The march of time and his mostly sedentary workload has left Disker with a a bit of flab that is luckily hidden by the layers of clothing he wears. Though it's not as if that is the only purpose of his daily wardrobe, for the on-board mechanics of the Cathartes should always look their best. This professional uniform he self-prescribed is composed of a pair of white dress pants, a maroon tie, a pair of elevated leather shoes, a feldgrau dress shirt, and a jacket with a personalized emblem pinned on his left shoulder. Due to the lack of readily available barbers in space, he has elected to simply grow out his hair.

When the need of his Mobile Suit arises, he dons his old Titans space suit. An important detail to note is the distinct lack of insignia and ranks on said space suit, as Disker has long disregarded the short-lived traditions and institutions of the Titans.

Character Conceptualization
On the surface, the Universal Century's wars have always been between the Federation and Zeon, with splinter groups forming from the two factions spicing things up every now and then. However, the big manufacturing companies have always been just as important as they supply weapons to every side able to meet their price. Disker Isaacs' embodies the values of duplicity and opaqueness these companies are known for.

Disker initially fought all of his battles within the world of corporate espionage. Running from a mystery shrouded past, the only details he willingly shares with his present day comrades are the facts that he worked under the Titans' Augusta and Oakland labs Mobile Suit R&D divisons, that he proudly sabotaged the Titans before joining the Voltus Salvage Company, and that he was nearly stabbed to death because of that previous fact. Any further details of his past may or may not reveal themselves during the roleplay.

Mobile Weapon Description
By the time the Titans started to fall apart at the end of the Gryps conflict, Disker had secretly smuggled a few of their manufacturing projects to an undisclosed warehouse with the support and at the behest of a secret sponsor. However, he had kept one unit for himself after offloading the rest of the stolen mobile weapons: A RMS-106CS Hizack Custom.

In a post-war world, having a high-end Mobile Suit would not be the easiest to maintain. Luckily, the Hizack Custom's mixed design foundations enables it to integrate most scrap parts the Cathartes might find between the Zeon and Federation wreckages. Its Sniper Beam Launcher is able to draw directly from the Cathartes' power supply as well, making up for the weaknesses of the Columbus class carrier's lack of firing coverage and the otherwise limited firing capacity of the Hizack Custom when drawing from its own energy core.

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