ARMOR CLAD FAITH

8′6″ and like 2,672 lbs, can’t exactly walk anywhere without causing the ground to shake at least a little 

Mom said no x-box because anything with a circuit board tried to kill us all, so they took like a chunk of the population of India and the UN on a country-sized warship to the sky 

An ex-slave soldier that helped lead a coup d'etat of their corrupted military state, succeeded, and now they’re just chilling in the sky with all this old ass technology that’s illegal everywhere else–where they can be very responsible with it. I am serious. 

One man army, you thought those gauntlets were a weapon? Kind of, but they’re mostly strength limiters.

The sweetest, gentlest man; loves painting nature, has things like ‘Burly Heart’ and ‘Armor-clad Faith’ written or engraved on a lot of his uniform. 

It’s more painful for him to watch others get hurt than it is for him to physically get hurt 

If you fight him though he will politely recommend you have a plan of how exactly you’re going to survive fighting him, even though he’s a man who intentionally fights in a way to hurt the other person as little as possible

An eyebrow quirks upward and the action alone is enough to have LE10 attempt to copy his creator. Deborah is very expressive and unfortunately LE can’t even do MORE than half  the face she makes. 

“HE is a robot. Just a regular robot with machine parts. You….” Maybe in his world there’s no such thing? Or…he said magic. Are all of the creatures in his world magic based? 

“His name’s LE10. People just call him LE though.”

“Ah, sorry, sorry.” 

He apologizes again, mostly to being unsure of the pronouns LE10 preferred for himself. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, LE10--and companion...creator?”  

Crouched down like he is, he offers his fingers to the little bot, as a way to offer a gentle hand shake, before he looks back up to Deborah, waiting for her own introduction. 

“What are the standards for ‘robot’ and ‘machine’ parts here? Ah--I apologize. My name is Potemkin, an envoy of Zepp.” 

His introduction comes shorter than usual, mostly because, this woman doesn’t seem to care much for details. Only based on first impression, however. 

@heartofzepp

                   That hulking frame…the way the ground shook as he walked…Nagamasa’s eyes were glued to this stranger. There was no doubt in his mind that this man was a force to be reckoned with in battle. Back in his own world, he’d only experienced this sense of awe once. Yes —– wasn’t it with the retainer to that brat from the Tokugawa army ? Words slipped out from Nagamasa’s lips.

                    ❛❛ …It’s like gazing upon Tadakatsu Honda… ❜❜ Only seconds later, Nagamasa clamped a hand over his own mouth. What was he doing, speaking without a thought in his brain ? Control and discipline in all things ——– that was his philosophy. Being in an unfamiliar location was no excuse for him to forget his principles. After a couple seconds, Nagamasa let his hand drop to his side.

                    ❛❛ —– Ahem. What I meant to say is…you remind me of someone I know. Well, I suppose I didn’t know him that well, but…I did serve alongside him. In any case, I suppose introductions are in order. I am Nagamasa Azai, the third head of the Azai clan of Omi Province. May I ask for your name ? ❜❜

“Tadakatsu...Honda?”

A japanese name, by the sound of it. Quite a strong one. He can’t say he’s familiar with it...he waits patiently for the other’s explanation and nods. 

“My name is Potemkin, an envoy of the Independent Airborne State of Zepp.” 

A small epiphany dawns on him. 

No, he has heard these names before! He doesn’t want to admit that while he enjoyed the enthusiasm displayed by Chipp’s rambling about Japan’s history, he never actually retained too much. Most of that knowledge was second-hand in the first place, and at times Chipp ended up speaking so quickly Potemkin couldn’t quite keep up.

So, he’ll keep that to himself. It’d be too strange to be recognized in that fashion, right? 

      ✧ ❝ That’s a pretty specific number, ❞ she retorts with a quirk of her brow.

      ❝ Anyway, I make weapons. Not just guns but swords and stuff, too. And it’s damn good weaponry, I’ll tell ya that! ❞

He didn’t mention any numbers. Ah, she’s being smart. 

“This may be a strange question to you. Do your weapons use gunpowder?” 

// I’m slowly working on all my drafts, but while I do that, I wanna extend a hand!

As much as I love people meeting Potemkin for the first time, I’d also like to open this post for pre-established relationships! 

Potemkin is definitely a character that bounces off others best, getting along with most but isn’t too awfully talkative. He’s more a listener, and can offer some pretty solid advice to help people keep going in life. 

He’s also the kind of person where it takes a lot to get on his nerves, and deeply dislikes superficial and self-obsessed characters. This can make for a fun, more antagonistic relationship to play with. 

By liking this post, you let me know you’re interested in a pre-established relationship with this big cutie, and you’re open to random little starters and ask memes and the like!! 

It was later in the evening at the Netwalk, when crowds had already started to disappear. Part of a thin arm, from the upper half of the forearm to the hand, stuck out from inside one of the trees and waved slowly up and down. Nothing else of a body was apparent on either side, making it seem like the tree had grown one bizarre lower branch.

The invisible part of the person the arm belonged to was definitely pretty bored.

@heartofzepp​

Surely there are stranger things Potemkin’s seen than trees with arms sticking out them; but it’s still decidedly strange when it just doesn’t suit the area. He observes it for a while before he approaches, moving a finger--one that’s as nearly thick as this ghostly arm--with caution. 

@heartofzepp​ // sc.

        “ holy crap. they don’t usually make ‘em much bigger than me. ” aside from monsters, maybe - but this guy didn’t fit that category. hellboy could already tell that much. he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person was under all that armor. or maybe this was some sort of living armor situation? either way, it wasn’t his place to ask - and he decided he’d been rude enough with his comment alone. “ sorry. you probably hear that a lot. ” probably as often as he heard comments about his own appearance - which made him feel just a bit guilty.

Oh? What is...? They’re certainly not a gear. No, something more of Slayer’s nature perhaps--he’s never done a lot of research into that. It’d be rude to ask, he’s sure. 

The other speaks before he can give a greeting, finding they had the same idea. 

Ah, yes, they’re both a bit peculiar to look at, huh? 

Potemkin means to give a polite chuckle, but it’s more of an awkward, humble exhale. He lowers himself a bit to be more even with the other. And nicely, he doesn’t need to bend too low. 

“It’s alright. It’s taken me a long time to do so, but I’ve grown proud of this body.” 

He takes off his helmet with a few simple motions, revealing a chiseled face with dark skin, blank white eyes, and close-cut brown hair. Yes, it seems a lot easier to talk to people without it. No need to be intimidating during simple conversation. 

NOW that was a close one. Even Nero hadn’t been close to stepping on him. LE10 brings his lifter up and beeps a couple of times. Ah, if only Deborah’d install a speech audio into his system. He’d be able to communicate with EVERYONE. Oh well, this is fine. The little robot moves backward then twirls as if to say that it’s okay. Not okay that he was almost stepped on, but the guy apologized so it’s fine! 

“He’s not magic,” Deborah replies standing behind the little robot. Ah, if he had stepped on LE, there’d be a HUGE problem. Accident or not. 

And no doubt if he did, Potemkin would be excessively apologetic. He remains crouched, still more or less face to face with Deborah at height. It would seem the little robot has it’s own personality, and that only further serves to enamor him to it. Potemkin gives LE10 a nod in reply to it’s gesture. 

A rainy summer day, and several cars seem to be stopped in the road, waiting. A large figure is postured in front of them. Not that he stopped them physically--but warned them beforehand. No-one was going to question this giant but what he stopped them for would be a bit unexpected. 

The Forest of Airaisal was a fascinating place, and considering how easy it was to get lost in it, following a creek seemed to be the best idea on how to find your way in and back. He’s explored much of the cities themselves in his previous kidnapping, and finds himself at a loss for what to do in day to day. 

So he wanders next to the flowing water; a massive man with dark skin, short cut dark brown hair, in a blank tank top underneath thick blue overalls, tucked into military boots. Toting over his shoulder a small (well, small compared to himself) bag of art supplies and a sketchbook. 

And eventually, knowing it takes time for things to settle in any forest, he sits next to the creek. Waiting patiently, basking in the breeze as all the insects and animals find their places again. 

Unfortunate for Zepp that he can’t help but be a little aloof around strangers; he was the lone wolf of the Order for a reason. “Nah… not urgent. City’s not going anywhere. At least I hope it isn’t.” He offers that much as a reply.

He doesn’t follow Potemkin’s gaze; in fact, he takes the opportunity to pace around behind him, continuing on the way that he had been starting down before this little detour. “…don’t let me keep you from doing what you want,” he adds as he comes to a halt to peer over his shoulder, “Not like I own the place. I’m just here to figure out who does.”

Perhaps the melancholy and wanderlust was from watching the world almost end again. The spectacle of the will of the living, flaws and all. Many things come from wounded souls; grand atrocities, and overwhelming kindness. 

It’s not his place to ask, yet he wonders to himself if Nero is a lonely person. 

“It can all change very quickly...overnight, if the Stars so desire.” 

“There’s a decent amount of my strength still, despite the limits they’ve put on me.” they’re incredibly welcome, in some cases, though not all, “If you need any heavy lifting done, or even just an ally, call on me. If you’d like.” 

Or even, just, company. Ah, he mustn’t project onto others. Bleeding heart be damned. 

“...(I wonder if I can find swimming trunks in my size...)” 

“ Same thing every damn year. “