paradox.

making-dough​:

♠  - Hinoka’s warning came a step too late for Farina as she suddenly found her screen filled with messages warning that ‘combat enhancements have been temporarily disabled. Rebooting.’ Whatever that meant, she had absolutely no idea but she’s been finding that her mech had been responding a lot more sluggish lately. Practically little difference to not moving at all. 

Melanthios attacks Farina with Isolation - rolls a 10. Hit! Farina’s passives are nullified for a turn.

So, clearly, it was a bad thing. Thankfully, the rest of her squad seemed to have had things well in hand, dispatching the cow-shaped enemy in next to no time. They were just down to the boss lady herself now - ‘Jeanne’ or Melan-something or whatever she was calling herself now - and if those ‘warnings’ were telling her anything, it was that she had more than a few tricks on her.   But then again, so did she. Let’s see. If she gathered all the power she had left, she could probably surprise ‘Jeanne’ with a lightning-fast charge while her mech ‘rebooted’, whatever that meant. Thankfully, ‘Jeanne’ seemed more than distracted enough from both Hinoka’s attack and the destruction of the last of her lackies to allow her to pull the maneuver off.

Drifting herself until she reached a suitably unnoticed point on the very edges of ‘Jeanne’ ’s vision range, Farina then thrusted off with all her power, her trusty baton held firmly in front of her. The aim being to cause enough of a distraction that she won’t notice that her systems weren’t in such a great shape. Contact in three. Two…

Farina attacks Melanthios with Hit and Run - rolls a 12 - 3 Damage Dealt to Melanthios!

Melanthios’ counterattack has been nullified.

Melanthios HP: 26.5 -> 23.5

Well, she got a hit, alright. A noticeable gash across the front of its very, very thick armour. Jeez, she’s seen fully-armed knights who’d have put on less. Can’t imagine she’d done much damage. Good thing that wasn’t the expectation to start with. Just a cheap hit while it had looked suitably distracted. 

Now drifting once more, now on its other side, Farina then tried once more to get her mech moving properly. Nope, no luck. She might as have been flying to the moon for all the good she was doing here. Looks like she’d just have to sit there while her mech ‘rebooted’. She struggled to fight back a sigh. Oh, that was looking like it was going to be a painful wait…

@larvesez​

Equus, Draco and finally Bovis fall. Now all eyes are on the prize. ‘Jeanne’ - or was it Melanthios? Shez had to admit she didn’t really ‘get’ it. All she knew was that just a glance at the so-called Agarthan left her skin crawling. As if looking at something both completely foreign and heartbreakingly familiar at the same time. Gritting her teeth, Shez tries to ignore the painful, unexplainable sensation in her chest.

They’re fighting for General Raoul. For the safety of these people, wrapped up in a terrifying tale. She could not afford to falter now.

So Shez darts forward, swinging and ready to take Melanthios down. Her sword, heavy and cumbersome is the perfect shape to crush layers of armour beneath it’s blade. Her expression twists into a smirk as she pushes forward, knowing she has the advantage. Let’s out a harsh, biting laugh as the blade shears straight through Melanthios’ weighty armour.

Roll d20: 13! Shez deals 3.5 damage to Melanthios. Roll d20-2: 15! Melanthios deals 1 damage to Shez Melanthios has 20/28 HP remaining Shez has 11/12 HP remaining

making-dough​:​

♠  - Well, this was new. Farina couldn’t exactly say she ever been held adrift floating in a, uh, dark empty space before. She couldn’t say she entirely liked it. It was leaving her a bit too float-y and helpless for her liking. One moment they were on the road to this Kincaid city place and the next, the sky was literally collapsing around them, resulting in this. 

Where-ever this was. Doubtless this was probably some kind of trap. Most likely made by a mage of some kind. Or maybe that Projectionist was just pulling their chain again. Always a possibility. Nah, this definitely looked like something that had a culprit behind it and sure, out she came with a villainous-sounding speech.

A short glance at the machine’s rainbow plate and the general’s cry of recognition told her all she needed to know. So, this was the ‘Jeanne’ the General was so fond of. She’s had misgivings ever since she’d first heard his story but, as she thought, this ‘Jeanne’ wasn’t as fond right back. It had just seemed a little too cruel to lay voice to those thoughts. Besides, it wasn’t as though she could profit of his longing, anyway.

Well, anyway, here she was babbling about some nonsensical speech. ‘Jeanne’ or, uh, Melan-something-or-other or whoever she was, offering them an exit out of the book in exchange for the general. As if she wasn’t to just destroy them once she gets him. Besides, they might not have been soldiers for long, but she was pretty sure General Raoul counted as an employer and the Ilian mercenary oath had only one thing to say on abandoning employers! 

“Nice offer”, Farina responded, grinning grimly. “But I think we’ll take our chances!” Firing off her mech’s jets, Farina quickly launched herself at the approaching enemies and quickly decided on her target. There was at least one mech that looked like some kind of strange ballista of some kind. Clearly an ‘archer’ of some kind. Those have always been problems. Pegasus knight rules of engagement - Kill the archers first!

Passing by Hinoka as she closed in on her target, Farina quickly whipped out her long baton and simply thrusted it in front of her as she charged. No point in holding back, she was going all out! Three. Two. One. Contact!

Farina attacks the Draco with Brave Lance - Rolls a 8, 4 - Hit and Miss - Dealt 2.5 Damage to the Draco!

The Draco counterattacks with Blessed Bow - Rolls a 9 - Hit - Dealt 1.5 Damage to Farina

Farina HP: 8.5/10

Clearly, she hadn’t been charging remotely fast enough to keep the damned thing from getting a shot off. A bolt of, uh, something ripped its way out of its muzzle and getting a solid hit somewhere on her mech’s body, causing her screens to scream with warnings.

Not a problem. That was what they had shields for, apparently. Though, the shot did leave her spinning badly out of control, only able to get a glancing blow on the shoot-y machine from a flailing swing as she charged right past it and out onto its other side. Gritting her teeth, she quickly stabilized herself and fired up her jets for another charge. This time, she was out on its other side and it was aiming in totally the wrong direction. This time, it wasn’t going to get so lucky.

Farina attacks the Draco again with Brave Lance - Rolls a 13, 7 - Hit and Hit - Dealt 5 Damage to the Draco! Draco HP: 0/10

Charging down her target from behind, she soon torn through the mech’s frame from behind and emerged out on its other side, her steel baton held tightly in her own mech’s hands, clearly the instrument of such carnage. Damaged hopelessly beyond repair, the barreled mech behind her let out a few sparks and then exploded, lighting up the void behind her.

“Oh, yeah! That feels good!”, Farina celebrated, letting out a loud joyous whoop. Smashing down enemies had never stopped feeling awesome! She’d celebrate more but didn’t look as though the battle was over just yet! Though, getting there. Looked like that was two down and a few more to go!

@larvesez​

It’s finally her turn to take the offensive and the pressure, the eyes trained on her back, make her uncomfortable. The people that surround her are legends in their own homelands. She is just a woman with a blade, striving to make such a name for herself.

There’s only one thing for her to do though. Grasp her sword tight and charge into the enemy. Te blade bites into flesh, deep and devouring. Smirking. Shez pulls back and revels in the bloodshed. This one was for Raoul.

Roll d20+2: 12! Hit! 3.5 damage dealt to Bovis with Armourslayer. Bovis counters. Roll d20-2:7! Hit. Deals 0 damage to Shez.

The Bolt Axe collides with her shoulder and it should hurt. Her arm should crumple under the force, reasonably. It does not however. The weapon hardly even tickles her. She doubts it will even bruise whilst Marth watches her closely. She isn’t sure how he does it - does not need to know, really. It works, so she shoots him a cheerful peace sign in thanks.

“Let’s do this. For General Raoul.”

thyrosus​:

ALWAYS ASSUME A CONFRONTATION. A lesson learned from the last time he’d perilously followed his fellow inhabitants of Garreg Mach monastery on higher orders—no turn the day may take will ever end with sense, or without the intent of spilling blood. The metal suits the false archivists stride in feel no less odd to wield, but it moves with Lorenz’s body with but a thought, as though a simple extension of his own limbs and soul.

Escape from the museum had been a harrowing experience, but true to Laelaps’ word, they had been shielded from the majority of harm, encased as they are. The communication capabilities remain somewhat obscured, but so long as they can communicate at all, without having to reveal themselves to the world and potentially open themselves up to more danger, Lorenz held his tongue on expression confusion at the particulars.

Besides: he’d likely get a reply that only beget more questions than answers. This story has gone well over his head and stretched his disbelief to its utmost limit.

He has never favored heavy armor, but it is the closest sensation he can conjure, as their wayward team of four stride towards safety, and eventually find themselves halted in their progress by what would be a standoff.

Thankfully, nothing else comes of it but a reunion, although he hardly finds himself relaxed at the fact. Some measure of relief as familiar voices filter through the inside, but it is tempered by unfamiliar voices barking orders, a request to state names keeping Lorenz’s hands hovering over the interior, and the panels inside. He may not yet have had to strike with this machine—not does he plan to unless danger arises, to be clear—but his guard remains thoroughly up.

There is a measure of relief as Soren speaks truth to his own thoughts: for as much as a reunion and introductions will do to soothe tension, they must not let it go. Time is of the essence.

“Lorenz Hellman Gloucester—Archivist.” (To the outside, the mech mirrors the bow he gives on instinct, albeit with far less grace for the moment. He stays inside, even in the presence of comrades, and lets his machine do the heavy lifting of expression.)

“I am in agreement with those terms, General. Considering the circumstances, if we are to draw attention no matter what, splitting that attention may be our safest course to victory. I suppose it remains then to divide our smaller squadrons among talents and the… technology at our disposal. I happily throw my own lot in to head up one of these forces, if that is what it comes to. While some of us may not be trained for this style of combat, we have not simply sat idly by all this time. I believe you will find an array of brilliant minds upon my fellow Archivists.

“Suggestions for dividing our forces further, then?”

Words, for once, fail her completely.

Still shaken by earlier events, the horror and carnage inflicted on innocent civilians, Shez finds herself meeting with a larger group. Many survivors who escaped that awful museum. Familiar faces from back home in Fodlan. This should be a relief. Something to anchor herself to reality. The universe seems out to spite her today though and she’s thrown off kilter once more. 

Her breath rushes out of her lungs, leaving her floating like dandelion seeds on the wind. The last things Shez had expected was to come face to face with the Ashen Demon herself.

Bile rises in her throat. She has to lean against the wall to keep herself upright. This had to be someone’s twisted, cruel joke.

“Shez...” she eventually manages to say, gaze staring far beyond the scene laid out in front of her. It occurs to her just how distant her own voice sounds right now. How blank and lost her expression must seem. Shaking her head, she tries to rid herself of doubt and fear. To focus on the here and now in front of her. “I’m... I took to our training pretty quickly. I’m comfortable piloting one of these things. Always have had a knack for fighting my way out of sticky situations.”

“Heh, into them too.”

Despite the jokes, Shez still refuses to look at the others. To take the risk of making eye contact with Ashen Demon. It’s all false bravado. Confidence had spilled from her so easily before the day’s events. It had all seemed like a game, a challenge. A competition she was determined to win.

So much blood had been shed. Without any rhyme or reason. It brought the reality of their situation crashing down around her. Now she stands, almost shoulder to shoulder with the woman who had cut down her former captain.

The ground felt as though it had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

pirrhyc​:

   “ Ahhhh, I don’t know how you do it. I envy you. I was on edge the whole time you were talking to that one, ”  Pelleas tells Shez as he follows after her, genuine in his praise.  “ Oh, well. Time to move on, right? One moment…

“ Alright. It looks like the rooms to our right all end up connecting to each other, so I think it’d be best to just check the section to our left first… ”

This he says, but when he goes to take the eastern entrance for it, it reveals a corridor that looks too tight for either of their mechs to make it through. Lines of door after door greet him in that line, suggesting any number of rooms to investigate, but…

“ Um, one second. Let’s try the other entrance. I don’t see anyone from this one, anyway… ”  

He moves on ahead, not keen on breaking walls just to make himself fit nor ejecting himself out of his large suit of armor in an area that would likely turn hostile to him if he stepped foot out of it. When he does make it to the other entrance, he notices one of the doors slightly ajar.

“ I think I see something… ”  Recalling their training, Pelleas zooms in his sights on that door, barely able to make out the image of someone peeking out through the crack, likely hiding. It’s at that time one of Pelleas’s and Shez’s allied soldiers catches up to the two of them, knocking against the leg of his mech to announce her presence.

She radios in,  “ Anyone here? ”

“ Yes, there’s someone hiding behind one of the doors… ”  he replies back thoughtlessly.  “ Someone’s in there, I’m sure of it. ”

The soldier nods, signaling her buddies to come to her aid.  “ Thanks for the tip. My dad used to pilot one of those big mechs—previous gen, but still massive. So I sort of knew you guys wouldn’t fit in there. ”  A fond, nostalgic smile takes her face then.  “ Don’t worry, we’ll handle them. Continue on your way. ”

A squadron of soldiers flood through the hallways, banging on the door so hard that they manage to break it open. As they invade the conference room, all Pelleas hears is the sound of shouting soldiers and screaming civilians.

He did this.

He almost bangs his head against the side of the cockpit, realizing how easily he had been led into things again. He can only hope they had decided to apprehend them nonlethally like their mission said they ought to…

…He doesn’t want to think about it. He’s going to lose his nerve if he dwells too long on it. He had been entrusted with a mission, and if he had failed it on top of involving people needlessly… Then he really wouldn’t forgive himself.

“ I… I’m sorry, ”  he radios in again to Shez, his voice all choked up.  “ I’m sorry, ”  he repeats.  “ I… I don’t want to stay here. Please. ”

“It’s easier to stand up to people when they know you could crush them with a single movement I guess,” Shez replies, although she is genuinely flattered. “Just remember, even with their guns there’s precious little they can do to us. Which means they’re unlikely to actually try and fight against us. You’ve been doing great work too, Pelleas.”

The mercenary thinks to herself that he’s better at handling civilians than her. He’s gentle and mild-mannered compared to her own brusque and brash way with people. Her mouth has got her into plenty of sticky situations in the past, most of which she had to fight her way out of. Perhaps it would be nice, to team up with someone like Pelleas more often. Someone to provide a semblance of balance in an otherwise chaotic life.

They make their way through the area, into a corridor, searching for persons to evacuate. It’s mostly empty, which means their job is almost done. Pelleas spots something a little further ahead and takes charge, when one of the allied soldiers catches up to them. Shez bristles - she doesn’t trust them, not after what happened in the previous areas. Before she has chance to signal to Pelleas to be on guard, he’s already confirmed the woman’s suspicions. What happens next is a blur, a rush of soldiers through the corridor. Armed, shouting and piling through the entrance that neither she or Pelleas could fit through.

Which renders them powerless to put a stop to it. She doubts she’ll soon forget their screams.

Neither will Pelleas though, his voice shaking over the communication device. Bile rises in her throat and for the first time today she’s genuinely furious. What glory or honor was their to be found murdering the defenceless? What reason, what value could be found in such cruel tactics?

Shez is no stranger to death on the battlefield but she can’t quite stop her hands from trembling on the controls.

“Let’s go back, Pelly. It wasn’t your fault,” she’s certain he’s blaming himself for this. After all, guilt tugs at her own heart for not reacting quickly enough. For not blocking their path, cutting through them instead. Those who had chosen to fight. Those so willing to spill innocent blood. “What they did was utterly depraved. Something you and I could hardly imagine. Of course you didn’t see it coming.”

There’s a radio message from General Raoul. Shez grimaces, not wanting to explain this massacre to him. She won’t leave Pelleas to handle it alone though, to fall on his sword and blame himself.

"Attention. All units in my squad are to rendezvous with me to Section 5 of the map. I repeat, rendezvous to Section 5 and await further instruction."

“Section five it is. Lead the way?” The mech suddenly feels far too claustrophobic. Burdened with the weight of the sins they witnessed. She worries about Pelleas, who has become more than just an ally to her but a dear friend. The tremors in her hands are no longer from shock but rage. “You didn’t kill those people, Pelleas. You wanted to help them. I... what those soldiers did was pure evil but it wasn’t your fault. You’re a good, kind man.”

“Nothing like those monsters.”

pirrhyc​:

   “ Oh, me? A-Alright…! ”  The sudden shift in Shez’s tone doesn’t escape Pelleas’s notice, startling him enough to make his voice crack when he acquiesces to her request. She had seemed so natural for the leadership position, spouting off their strategy off the cuff like that and even suggesting it in so friendly a tone, but he supposes everyone has their weaknesses…  “ Navigating… I can do that, I think. Let me look. ”

Pulling up the map again on his screen and taking note of the direction Forsyth and Farina had already gone into, he muses aloud:

“ The room the others went into will inevitably just loop back to the door next to it… So we should take the opposite wall and go from there. Er, that’s just what I recommend anyway… ”

He pilots his mech to head further in and then south, entering a curious little section— a store of some kind. Most of the displays are empty except for some plushie cubes, puzzle sets, and colorful shirts advertising the Asimov Museum. Where it may be empty of merchandise however, there was still signs of a human life within the room that he could pick up.

Honing his sights in on the person behind the long table with some kind of metal device atop it, he notes her to be a girl that looked around his age, cowering with her hands covering her ears, hiding as best as she can but not well enough.

Going through the instructions for operating the mechs as best as he can remember from their training days, Pelleas manages to successfully get his voice to transmit outside of his mech, calling out to the girl:

“ Um… I’m not really sure what to say here, but haha it’s pretty scary down there, isn’t it… (Oh gods, it is, of course it is…) A-Anyway, um, we need to secure this area, so, can you just… leave the museum, please? It’s probably safer there… Probably? It’s safer there, right, Shez? ”

In tune with his instincts, his mech’s body turns to look back towards Shez for reassurance, but that matters little as shortly after he does that, he hears the young woman down below begin to sob, raising her hands up in surrender.

“ Please don’t kill me… ”

Looking back at her for this, Pelleas then realizes the girl’s gaze is set on something, and so he follows it and then realizes…

“ Oh! Y-Yes, um, excuse me… ”

And he moves out of the way of the exit, no longer blocking it, sheepish for not figuring that one out on his own.

“ I think we can move on to the next section, Shez. I don’t think there’s anyone else left in there besides that one woman. ”   // @larvesez​ 

“Definitely safer. We don’t want to see any civilians harmed,” Shez smiles reassuringly in the woman’s direction before realising her face can’t been seen in this tin can. And if the mech could smile, that would probably look a hell of a lot more threatening. Pelleas steps out of the way to let her pass and Shez waves the mechanical arm in her direction. “Well, that could have gone a lot worse! On to the next area?”

Crossing over the threshold, the pair leave the gift shop behind. The room is mostly empty, aside from two or three office workers who turn tail and run at the mere sight of their mechs. It’s a fair response, Shez thinks to herself. Unarmed or not, she’d hate to fight one of these things out in the field. She moves aside to let them pass, having no desire to corner them when a pair of allied soldier charge forward, shouting at the workers to surrender. General Raoul’s orders ring in her ears and Shez blocks their path.

“Let them go. We’re here to secure the area, not chase after unarmed staff.”

To their credit, they stop when you step in. However, one of them quickly challenges you. "Orders are to secure the targets and detain the workers. If they resist, dispatch them. Which is what we're doing... what the hell are you doing?" The office workers manage to make it to the exit, pushing through revolving doors to freedom.

The urge to retort back is strong, but Shez holds it together long enough for the workers to exit through the doors. Confident they’ve got a decent head start, Shez steps aside.

“Just following orders. This area has been secured, time for us to move on,” she addresses Pelleas, walking straight past the gutsy soldier who had challenged her. As she takes her own leave, she sends him a cheerful wave. “I’d be careful not to pick fights you can’t win though, mate.”

making-dough​:

♠  - Shez’s grin was only matched by Farina’s own in return. Well, glad to hear she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get neither heads or tails out of whatever that general was talking about. Those metal giants sure were impressive, though. And, judging from how Pelleas and Forsyth were doing, actually ridable. Well, orders aside, now she absolutely has to give it a go herself. Climbing behind the controls of the giant proved easy enough. Figuring out how to get it to move, on the other hand, was a bit more tricky. That general was chattering something about elek-trick something or others but, the gist of it appeared to be - think it and the giant will do it.

Well, that seemed easy enough. Her head was feeling weirdly stuffy but apparently, that was normal? Let’s see. She should start with the basics and try to get the thing to walk. ‘Walk forwards. Just one foot in front of the other.’  she thought at her giant and slowly it began to walk.  Slowly. Steadily. One foot placed in front of the other in slow steady strides. Its every movement sending her display bobbing up and down in time with its steps. A bit shakier than she’d expected but it was definitely walking. 

“Oh, huh. Well, that was easy.”, Farina grinned and sat back, smug in her achievement. She could practically do this in her sleep. Even all these flashy stuff on her display like bullets (some kind of weapon, she assumed) and shields (some sort of defense) was easy to get. It was almost like she didn’t even have to try. “Hey, look what I can-uuuuwooohh~!”, came a sudden cry of alarm. She’d been meaning to pull out her weapon for some fancy shoot-on-the-go but somewhere along the line, completely out of overconfidence, she’d stopped thinking about walking. So, what ended up happening was that as her mech was bringing up its arm, its back foot swung forward and met the back of its front foot, sending the entire thing tumbling head over heels and crashing into a nearby wall in a pile as it quite literally tripped over itself.  If she’d been having a headache before, her accident only seemed to make it worse. “Aargh!”, Farina moaned out, curling up and clutching her head in agony, before muttering out an entirely-unconvincing and more-than-slightly embarrassed-sounding “Meant to do that! Totally meant to do that!” 

Pride comes before a fall had never sounded this literal before. There was no way they were literally spending six-months real-time here and boy, was she glad for that now. There was no way she was gonna be living this one down for six whole months. Looks like she might just have to take this just a little more seriously.

@larvesez​

Shez slips into the mechanical suit of armour, wondering where the controls were. There didn’t appear to be any and she couldn’t ask Arval for advice here. It was odd, she hadn’t heard a peep out of them since awakening in this strange world. So, how to make this thing move...

As if one cue, the Canner takes a step forward. Then another, a third and a twirl. Oh cool! Well, that made things simple. If she could wield Arval’s powers then she could get the hang of this fairly quickly. It seemed easy enough, anyway. Moving the mechanism about was hardly any different to wandering around. Except the fact she now took up a lot more space. Squeezing though doors might be a bit of a problem.

Playing around, Shez gambols about the air hanger gleefully. This was so much fun! Flicking though the screens she sees information about ammunition, shields, local maps (quickly skipped over) and several other little modules that helped analyse her surroundings. Interesting - how on earth did it know what metal the doors were made of?

There’s a loud crashing sound and Shez turns to find Farina on the floor. Oh dear. Manoeuvring her way over, Shez extends a robotic hand to her new friend.

“Looked pretty cool to me, no worries! We’ve got plenty of time to get used to these things anyway. I bet you’ll figure out how to make it fly before we’re done with our training.”

toa-electricsheep​:

“Focus your attention on the first floor!” General Raoul chafes in this foreign mech, too quiet without his Alayne. “The mechs won’t fit through the stairs, unless your plan was to take the elevators… we’ve sent soldiers down to secure the basement. Our job is to secure this floor and cover their asses while they secure the targets.”

Alarms ring throughout the halls, harmonized by the terrorized screams of civilians. No help will come for them. Raoul mutes his telecoms to utter a curse before calling his meager squad again, “Now listen. Official orders are to dispatch those who resist. My orders are to do the best you can to incapacitate them, and if I see you going all Cujo on them I’ll kick your ass. Follow my lead and I’ll get you out of this mess. My word.” 

They are in the bottom right-hand corner of the building, according to their maps. Gunfire sounds from the exhibition hall just ahead of them, two security guards shooting with weapons meant for human targets not mechs. Still, even with their meager firepower, the mech’s shield goes slowly, steadily, down… “Remember,” he repeats, sending away the gatling guns on his arms. “No one needs to die today.”

“Aye aye, captain. No flagrant abuse of civilians,” Shez replies, giving him a cheeky salute in her mech suit. They’re fair orders - the people milling about were of no threat to the five of them in these Canner’s. Haha, tin canners. “Or soldiers if we can chase them away. Honestly, I’m a little offended you felt the need to warn us. Do we seem like barbarians to you?”

Pulling up next to Pelleas, Shez brings up the map and scans it. It doesn’t really tell her much - the one and only issue she’s had learning to pilot this is her awful sense of direction biting her in the backside once more. Moving around in it, battling in it, those came as easy as breathing. As though she was born to do it. Adaptability had always been one of her strong suits but she could easily picture herself getting lost in this place if left to her own devices. Well, only one thing for it.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split into pairs.” An obvious statement but the commotion around them, they probably had to act quickly. “I’ll head off with Pelly. Force, Rina, you two good with that?”

“Oh wait, do we have your permission, General Sir Raoul?”

"No, just that you lot just seem like the type to follow orders if they're coming from above," Raoul drawls. "You want to split up? That might just be the smartest thing I've heard out of that mouth of yours. I'll approve of it."

“Haha, glad to see you still have a sense of humour at your age. You know what I respond best to though? A little extra coin. Let me show you I’m worth it!”

“Pelleas,” Shez addresses him in a way that’s uncharacteristically serious once they’re out of earshot. “I’m going to need your help navigating this place. My sense of direction will be the death of me one day.”

making-dough​:

♠  - She’d be very surprised if there were somebody who had been expecting a scenery like this. Everything from the smell of the air to the feel of the ground below was unfamiliar. Huge metal buildings dot the landscape and the air was tinged with a odd taste, to say the least. She couldn’t quite recognize what it was and she didn’t like it one bit. Tasted somewhat like dirt if she were to put it bluntly. Well, scenery aside, they did come here with a mission and, as it turned out, they were rather dressed for the part too. Farina could recognize a military uniform when she saw one. Not one she’d normally adopt herself - there didn’t seem to be nearly enough armour for her liking - but as a uniform designed for comfort and ease of movement, it worked. Almost like retreading familiar ground.

Speaking of familiar ground, it seemed like the grumpiness of the officers were a universal constant. She’s been yelled out by more than enough sergeants to be  fazed much by the glares of this general standing right in front of them. A short glance at her squad mates told her that the same likely applied for both Shez and Forsyth. Pelleas, on the other hand… Well, Forsyth seemed to have covering for the little lordling well in hand so she may as well get them started on the practical matters. Like, what the heck were they actually meant to be fighting? “Yeah, we’re not really from ‘round these parts. So, mind filling us in here? What sorts are we expected to be 'deployed’ against here?”, Farina drawled out, offering the general a cheeky little salute, that amounted to little more than a casual brush of her fingers against her forehead. There was a short pause before she adds in the expected form of address as an afterthought. ”….Sir.“ In any other outfit, she’d half expected that display to have been just barely skirting the lines of insubordination but apparently, these guys were really hurting here because the general simply grunted out a "Conscripted, huh? You’re not alone in that. Unfortunately we’re short on manpower here, so you’ll have to suck it up.”  She’d nearly wanted to protest at that. Conscripted implied being paid the bare minimum. The lowest of the low. She was worth way way way more than that. Even if this was how this ‘story’ went, there were still some lines she wasn’t happy to cross. But…. this was clearly not the time for that so she simply narrowed her eyes, clearly unhappy, and let the general continue on with his explanation. "There’s a band of deviant AI roaming just outside city limits—the KM900s that got infected with the virus.” The General’s jaw tightens, as though reliving a painful memory. “As soon as you’re combat-ready, we’ll be deployed to their location and eliminate them.”

In other words, uh, what? The second sentence was fine. Translation: Whenever they got themselves ready, they’ll be off to smash some faces. But the first was more of a doozy. The heck was an AI? Or a virus? Farina shot a quick glance in Shez’s direction and mouthed out a “Hey, uh, you got any of that?”  Before she could puzzle it out any further, the general gestured for them all to follow him into the hangar. May as well check out whatever contraption had had Pelleas freaking out over there and “Whoa.” Whoa was just about right… for these huge metal giants standing to attention within. They didn’t seem to have much of a head between them but the size of those fists and the sheer power simply radiating out from them more than made up for that. 

Still stunned by the display, she’d barely caught the general finishing his explanation. “These are experimental units—KM910-A "Canner”. Modified Watsons that operate solely on human input. These’re virus proof, so there’s no worry about getting crushed by your own mech.“ Whatever a Watson was aside, yeah, she can certainly imagine why that was a bad thing. She certainly didn’t want an overblown metal coffin for a present. Apparently, they’d already had that issue well in hand so that was apparently why they were there! Farina could barely fight down an excited grin. Oh, they were gonna be riding these things? Into battle? Oh, this mission was getting better and better by the second!

“Not a clue!” Shez mouths back to Farina, shrugging her shoulders but grinning widely. With no idea what a Kanner or Whatso was, she still couldn’t help but wolf-whistle at the hunk of metal. They were towering behemoths, giants made of wrought steel. To think she’d get to pilot one was exhilirating!

"So, you're saying you want us to get in these things and beat something up? What do our targets look like? When do I get to give these babies a spin?" Shez babbles like a brook, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Now this was her kind of mission! Better than that, really. These Watsome thingies were quite literally out of this world and beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

“Don't get ahead of yourself, rookie. You may have tested well in battle, but once you get into one of these you won't know your ass from your elbow." The General gestures for you all to enter the hangar, assigning each of you your very own giant death metal machine. He shows you the back of the mech, pointing out the bars on the back of the "legs" jutting out like ladders. "You climb up here to get into the cockpit." General demonstrates by climbing up himself, stretching his arm out to reach and open a hatch. "And just get in. The seat won't be any different than whatever diagrams the higher-ups sent your way." General jumps down. "Get in your mechs," he orders. "Training starts today."

Grinning sheepishly, Shez scratches the back of her head, assessing just how quickly she could scale those bars. Farina seems just as excited as she is and Forsyth, whilst not quite so eager seemed undaunting. It’s when she spares a glance at Pelleas, that she feels a knot of guilt in her stomach. He looks pale as death - even more pallid than usual. So instead of racing up into the cockpit, she decides to hang back, clapping what she hopes is a reassuring hand behind his shoulder blades.

“Don’t worry, Pelly. I’m sure they’ll start us off simple, you’ll pick it up in no time at all!” Her smile is bright and gleeful as she links their arms together. When she continues, she keeps her voice lower. A conspiratorial whisper, not for the ears of anyone else. “I’m with you every step of the way. Except in the cockpit, that’d be way too claustrophobic! You’ll make this stupid general dude eat his words though, I just know it!”

"Hey, Sev!" Shez freezes for only a moment, relaxing into the other woman's touch. It strikes her as a little odd at first, for Severa to be so friendly with her out of nowhere. Perhaps she wants something from her, although it's hard to place what that could be. A shopping buddy, maybe? If so, the joke would be on her. Shez was flat broke. "Enjoying yourself today? The weather's lovely, I was just heading to the mess hall."

"Sorry, dining hall. The nobles here can be so fussy about that. Wanna come with?"

Her own stomach rumbles, just to make it absolutely clear she’s starving. Clearing her throat, she attempts to impersonate one of the more... unique students.

Shez swallows but there's a wide grin on her face. They're different.

She has sparred with a few of the academy's nobles by now, started to learn their quirks. The fingerprints of their upbringings holding them back in battle. Boxing them into certain codes of conduct, mannerisms and chivalry. Restraining them. The desire to fight fair rules above the need to survive.

Which is fine when they're in the training grounds. Practicing sword drills and challenging each other with weapons made of a soft, light timber.

In the real world, it lands you six feet under.

Yuri doesn't fight like they're trying to one up her. To win a competition. Yuri bares their teeth, snarling and fights as though their life depends on it.

It's refreshing, actually.

Her wrist twitches, wanting to continue their sparring session. They have her beat this time but she won't hold back again.

"That was exhilarating," Shez says, breathless and amused. It's been so long since she's been able to go all out, having to dance around nobles and their easily wounded proud. "You don't fight like the others. With you, it's different. Raw and real. I like it."

"Stop just disappearing like that! You always seem to be raring to take on ten men when you do that."

"Because I am." Shez answers plainly. As a warrior, she holds a lot of respect for Ingrid, as a person... this isn't the first disagreement they've had and she doubts it will be their last.

Ingrid yanks her back by the arm and Shez has to take a deep breath. They're on the same side. Hell, if both of them could get over their distrust they'd probably be great friends, too. As it stands though, Shez is frustrated that Ingrid is holding her back. In the most literal sense of the word.

"Let me go. There's enemy archers up ahead," she speaks through clenched teeth, trying to pull her arm free of Ingrid's death grip. The other woman's sheer strength surprises her for a second, before she starts wiggling her way free. "Do you want them to shoot you out of the sky or will you let me do my thing and take them out for you?"

Shez sighs, finally meeting eyes with the heir of Galatea. There's frustration yes and annoyance too in Ingrid's gaze but there's a hint of something else. Worry. Concern, even. For her.

How touching.

Maria isn't exactly a kid, per se, but Shez has admittedly always had a soft spot for those much smaller and cuter than herself. It's why she leans back and allows Maria to gather fistfuls of her hair and decorate them with ribbons and hair clips.

The young lady's innocence is incredibly precious. A rare jewel that Shez dares not get her dirty fingerprints all over. At the same time she doesn't have the heart to say no to her either, when Maria tries to braid hearts in the unruly mess that Shez calls her hair. Shez bites her bottom lip when the pulling is a little too much. It's entirely her own fault for not taking better care of herself.

Not that she has much choice. Sure, the countless young noblewomen that flit about the monastery wear their hair as a status symbol but to Shez, just keeping it out of her face was enough. As long as it didn't impede her survival, there were far more important concerns, such as where her next meal came from.

Yet she harbours no disdain for Maria, despite the fact the young lady is a princess, no less. The sun cannot compare to her classmates radiant smile and the warm, open heart she greets all who she meets. Be they rich, noble or have hands as bloodied and dirty as her own. This is the reason she submits to Maria's whims, because Maria doesn't care about her background, or fear her powers. The red haired princess treats her the same way she would anyone else, with the utmost kindness possible. Few people are so tolerant and understanding. Fewer still are quite so genuine as Maria von Medon.

"Whoa! What are you doing miss!" Despite her bleeding leg, Shez steps backwards, stumbling slightly as she tries to put some distance between herself and the approaching woman.

It isn't personal. Years of mercenary work have taught her to remain guarded, especially when injured and vulnerable. Rarely did she trust people from her own company to attend to her wounds but a stranger? Inconceivable. Not whilst she was still conscious and coherent at least.

"Oh, my leg. It's fine, I can do it myself. I prefer to - best I can take care of myself." Shez forces a smile. The other woman's eyes appear gentle but life has taught her better than to trust kindness offered without a catch. Nothing in life was ever free. The last thing she wanted was to be indebted to a woman she knew nothing about. Whose sweet smile could hide spite and malice, could plot the downfall of herself, her friends-- okay, she was definitely getting ahead of herself. Shez supposes it's possible, if unlikely, that she simply wants to help. So she makes an effort to meet her halfway - staying alert but not altogether pushing the woman away. "I'll take the bandage though, thanks. Mighty kind of you to offer."

She still regards the woman with a hint of suspicion. It may well be unfounded but better safe than sorry. Her hands work swiftly, wrapping the bandages around her thigh, tight enough to stem the bleeding. It hurt to put her weight on her right leg but she'd manage well enough until they got back to base camp where she could chug a few vulneraries and take a long nap.

Not again. This was the second time this week she'd let one of her classmates get the better of her whilst training. She grits her teeth, looking for an opening. The one she finds is unconventional.

It wouldn't work if this was a real fight, with sharpened blades, but with wooden swords all she has to fear is a few splinters. Shez rolls under Kris' training sword, getting plenty of dirt in her hair and clothes in the process. She points her own at his whilst grinning like a cat that go the cream.