On Our Way With A Smile [Private RP]

[Atma]

Hello, members of Cactus Jack. Welcome to our first and super casual RP. We have prior discussed our characters and their details so as such I will place their profiles in this thread and allow details not yet recorded to lie as we already have them in mind.

I will handle internal affairs as ever. Any issues you know where to contact.

Rules​

x All standard Pokécharms General Roleplay Rules apply.

x The standard posting term will be as long as it takes people to post. If demand for a new post rises however and you're holding us up, I will go with the majority.

x As new monsters are introduced I will implant a url to an info page.

x Remember that all actions in the RP are our characters, not us!

Post Order
Hail
Lance
Alistair
Tyche
Raven [NPC'd]

Wii're Now Posting!​

Note: If two or more members were previously auto moved along, Lucky Jack Bonus comes into effect. This means the remaining may continue to freely post in order for the duration of a post cycle if a vote is carried out and the auto'd characters do not post by 8pm.

Terminology (w/ Links!)​

SPF - ShinRa Peacekeeping Force [Info] [Image]
SOLDIER [Info] [Image]
Materia [Info] [Image]

-- ShinRa Profiles --​

Hail. "Just Hail."

Spoiler

Name: Hale

Age: 23

Birth Town: Kalm

Weapon: SOLDIER Blade & .42 Cactuar, though gun is simply a signifier of him as leader and thus only has a single magazine of 30 rounds with no reloads.

Class: Ex-SOLDIER

Materia: Cover

Bio: Ex-SOLDIER 2nd Class. Noted for admiration of the higher ups. Enlisted in SOLDIER prior the Meteor Crisis. Soon treated to a streamlined version of the mako shower process by the time he was deployed in active service the Sector 1 mako reactor had already been blown wide open. Though present during the Avalanche assault on ShinRa HQ, Hail never personally encountered the group and was reassigned once the area was deemed secure three days later. Many of his SOLDIER comrades had rebelled or turned rogue, some just disappeared behind black marks on files. During this time Hail was dispatched often to clean up escapees or take part in the grim machinations to prepare ShinRa's plan to infiltrate the Northern Crater, in particular securing the transfer of the Sister Ray under Turks supervision. It is around this point that four weeks of his memory are missing from what was described to him as an amnesiac episode, the flashbacks physically painful to bare when they return to him. By the time he became aware of himself again the gargantuan canon was wired up to every mako reactor on the pizza and the summoned rock bearing down on them. Escaping from ShinRa through a slight ordeal regarding the Turks and a hefty sum of gil, his bought freedom earned him a gracious ‘escort’ down into Sector 5 Slums; the particular method of escort being tossed down into a junk heap and disappearing from ShinRa's eyes. Appearing as the designated leader of the strange group a pocketful of years later, his rank of Captain and SOLDIER 2nd Class restored, though the latter was refused.

Personality: Generally a quiet, serious exterior concealing is more emotional side. In battle he is somewhat strategic, better at concocting plans to manage groups and when in one-to-one combat appreciates skill and is of course being mako-augmented one of the best combatants left alive after the Meteor Crisis with the majority of SOLDIER eliminated, can easily recognise it. When faced with an uncertainty Hail panics for a few moments before trying to force himself to understand it. Socially too caring for his own good and too aware of it, Hail views it as best to distance himself from everyone involved with his jobs after the disappearance of his comrades and the pain of the memories that as of late have begun to mysteriously return.

Lance Izanagi

Spoiler

Name: Lance Izanagi

Age: 24

Birth town: Wutai

Weapon:
- Orochi Spear Set (x8 interlocking spears) Black, gold dragon emblazon from top shaft to bottom, single end spear head. Otangue spear fusion, gold, black twin dragon emblazon, twin spear head, duel ended.

Style: Dragoon

Materia: Lightning

Bio: Prior to succumbing to geo-stigma, Lance hired himself out as a mercenary based in Wutai, eliminating marks as far as Fort Condor. While eliminating a particularly vicious cactuar, Lance realized he had been afflicted with geo-stigma, and forced himself to make the arduous journey to Midgar in the hope to find a cure. After arriving at Midgar assuming they’d be the ones with the knowledge, Lance headed straight to ShinRa HQ to find out about a possible cure. On arrival, a strangely hooded figure in a suit, Lance assuming a Turk told him they knew of his prowess, stabbed a needle in Lance’s arm and said they’d be in touch when the time comes. Awaiting this call Lance delivers flowers around Sector 8. It wasn’t long before Lance received the call, the following day arriving in Edge with the rest of the group with the rank of Corporal.

Personality: Raised with battle, it has gone past routine and become fun, a chance to improve skills and show off even if he is generally cocky when faced with an adversary. Socially a generally neutral fellow.

Alistair 'Al' Leyman

Spoiler

Name: Alistair Leyman/ Al for short

Weapon: Hells Breach - A makeshift scythe rendered of a guillotine head-like piece of jagged metal secured to a metal pole thick enough to serve as a shaft, a chain secured to the base of said pole.

Class: Grimm Teller

Appearance: short to middling length brown hair that sticks out at odd angles at the top that makes him look like he’s just woken up, he wears straight black pants and has several chains dangling around his waste they clink as he moves along, he wears a white button up shirt with the top two buttons undone, an undone red tie underneath the collar and a jacket over top the shirt and overall of it he wears a brown tattered cloak.

Background: Growing up in Gongaga, Alistair was surrounded by death. Growing up in such an environment, saying good bye to people day after day, his sanity was severely affected. Spending his childhood in a sombre, quiet existence he too often contemplated what was happening around him. Why must everyone die? Why did they have to blame ShinRa? Weren’t they just people making their way through the world like everyone else? All of these questions boiled in his very existence until one day he decided he was to break away. These people all around him were so fixated on preserving life, yet they would snatch it so readily away from ShinRa given chance. These crucial thoughts were what encouraged him to write the Grim Compendium, a chronicle of all who had died in Gongaga and all those he never got to know through stories passed on by family.

Over time the turmultuous tornado of emotions sampled the hate of his people for ShinRa. Spending time in the reactor - the ultimate symbol of the stolen souls - Alistair felt himself a conduit.

Abandoning his old life with no parents since childhood and trapped with spiteful siblings and no friends left alive having all surrendered to mako poisoning, he drifted away. This was before the Geostigma, luckily he didn’t contract it. It has been four years since the soldier-eyed man left that place taking a relic forged from the fallen reactor’s core, the Hells Breach. Signed up for the job to serve his own purposes of whimsy and earn some gil, Alistair has been assigned as Corporal.

Personality: A spontaneous man, Alistair leans towards the unconventional approaches to things, spitting in the face of odds unfavourable or otherwise. Keen to help others he has something of an eccentric personality.

Raven. "You don't need to know my last name."

Spoiler

Name: Raven ???

Age: ??? (Appears in early twenties)

Birth Town: Midgar

Weapon: Heaven’s Cloud

Class: Swordsman

Materia: Lightning / Destruct

Bio: A survivor of the Sector 7 plate collapse, having used to live on it. His family deceased in the accident and thusly picked up into one of the slums then by the destruction of Midgar was pulling odd jobs on behalf of ShinRa after trudging through the junk gangs contributing towards building Edge. Spending a brief spat in Cloud's orphanage or so is rumoured, Raven then vanished entirely before re-emerging on this jo with the rank of 1st Lieutenant.

Personality: Battle is a necessity, meaning all enemies must be eliminated without pause, a thing to be confronted efficiently and dealt with.

Route Tyche [Requires Age & Personality]

Spoiler

Name: Route Tyche

Age: ???

Birth Town: North Corel

Weapon: 7

Class: Gun Gambler

Materia: Enemy Skill

Bio:
Like everyone else in Corel, Route grew up amongst the ruins. The town was destroyed by ShinRa so a natural hatred is instilled and Route is unsure of whether to trust ShinRa or not but needs the money. The job is a necessity, having lost a big bet at the peak of his gambling game. A mysterious man representing ShinRa covered it in full and even offered some money to get him back on track. What other choice did this wayward gambler have? The man disappeared and he was left to make his own way to Edge, given rank of Sergeant.

Personality: [MISSING]

--Initial Post--​

Stainless steel streets, iron grey clouds forming a weary sky, bustling crowds of people tired yet optimistic as a whole. Four days ago the miracle rain had come; everyone infected had been cured by a mysterious downpour that erased the Star Scar Syndrome A. K. A. Geostigma of everyone outdoors in the rising settlement north of the husk of the mako capital Midgar. Anyone else soon made their way to a church in the Sector Five slums where a knee deep pool of this miracle water had appeared to form and never seemed to dwindle, no matter how much was taken to elsewhere to cure the stigma. Allegedly the heroes that saved the world two years ago knew where the flow of the water that had earned the name ‘Cetran Promise’ came from and despite reluctance to disclose or any other information to remaining ShinRa officials though they were keen to aid distribution. Apparently the felled giant that was ShinRa felt amends were long overdue so as such they were paying in full for the whole project.

Of course they’d never tell the public the 'Golden Chocobo Couriers' they had hired were in fact a mercenary group. This was the black cloaked man’s first thought as he waved to the cheering crowds as the trucks and tankers pulled out of Edge’s city centre, the scent of the tossed flowers mingling with the smell of industry forging the city into the landscape. No need for guards lining the roads was his next thought, unusual for a ShinRa precession …

… Perhaps things really were changing, then as a dull grey tarpaulin concealing the weapons in the back of the truck closest to the middle tanker was lifted by a spontaneous gust and restrained by scrambling hands of figures emerging miraculously from the crowd the leader of this mercenary conglomeration realised they were just as shady as ever. Those gathered here were potentially even more morally distorted than them, having agreed to take this job for money no less. No civilians saw anything thanks to the quick actions of his self elected exaggeratedly casually-clad new crew and better yet the heroes of the Meteor Crisis witnessed just as little. Perhaps that was the worst part of it all, having to lie to such admirable people about both identity and purpose. At least their intent as a whole – his intent, was to make sure the cargo got to where it was designated and distributed thusly.

-- [Everyone Post leading on from the above]

As engines growled into life after securing the casual operatives could be spotted dispersing back into the crowd and off down side streets. A slight taste of exhaust in the air, the cheering defeaning. As Hail glanced back to the Meteor Heroes he felt Cloud's observation fall upon them. The more-than suspiciously cloaked leader of the mercs tore mako-rinsed eyes away from mako-rinsed eyes. Was that suspicion or contempt? Either way it was not the best expression he had seen painted on a face. Easing around the gentle curvature of the hastily constructed main road of Edge, white knuckled grip on the steel bar curved and welded onto the rim of the open backed pick up truck for the passenger to hold onto during the 'parade'.

The gentle tap of a loaded gun against his black trousers beneath his cloak amplified his sense of irony and guilt about the whole situation. A send off from heroes to heroes-to-be who are in fact products of the towering company they faced down. Shaking his head and pulling himself into the black leather passenger seat of the cab through hastily opened then shut door, tugging down irritating hood of cloak and revealing medium-length brown hair just long enough to be hintingly wavy. Deathly pale complexion accentuated his SOLDIER eyes, though Hail had practicedly hit the button to tint clear windows to black out. Orders included nobody was to witness his face besides the driver until they were past Kalm. Great. It would be another few minutes before they left the limits of Edge and entered into the wasteland of the Midgar Area, what could the others be thinking? Would they converse and mingle and become familiar?

 

[Johnny B3]

Alistair sat on a small wooden three legged stool, on one of the outside sections of the truck by one of the tankers, he was keeping an eye on the payload, the shipment, the magical miracle, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself whenever he thought about what it was they were carrying, he felt like a holy angel delivering miracles to the masses, he wondered why he was allowed to join the golden chocobo’s then he realised he didn’t care he just wanted to help people so that they never had to go through what he did when he was a child.

Alistair remembered the dead, all of them, their names, their faces, their date and time of death and finally how they died – this was the curse of the Cromwells - he’d seen many horrible things over the years but he still couldn’t get used to the fact that so many of his friends and family died due to mako poisoning and he wanted to help, he reasoned this way “If Geostigma comes from the lifestream and so does mako then mako poisoning should be cured by Cetran Promise as well”


He gazed out across the blasted and desecrated wasteland that was once the great ShinRa city of midgar, he saw were the wildlife was so quickly regaining control over the city he say flowers blooming once more, the flowers were far from beautiful though they were scared yellow and putrid greens they made him physically sick to look at. Alistair turned to look at the tanker stood up and stretched he heard the joints in his back crack audibly and whistled “Well that felt good” he sung to himself softly – anything Alistair spoke sounded musical thanks to the positive output he was forced to acquire in his youth, except of course anything said in anger- he smiled and pulled his hood up over his head bracing himself against the wind he took apart the stool he was sat on taking each of the legs off and putting them into his rucksack with the seat lid going tin last he did this neatly and efficiently from the amount of time he’d spent doing it, he picked up hells breach taking it in one hand as one would a walking stick he moved toward the end of his tanker and looked at the truck behind his tanker he was tempted to move over to the truck to meet the people he would be working with throughout this adventure was embarking on.

Alistair signalled to the man driving the truck that he was going to move the man shook his head in denial and mouthed no at him Alistair laughed at the man and said “Don’t worry.” He took a breath and jumped he soared over the truck compartment he then planted the scythe en of hells breach into the truck flat bed he looked around and saw Lance and walked over to him he wondered what Lance would think of his entrance although he didn’t particularly care, he then said “How ya doin’ Mr Izanagi? Can I call ya Lance?”

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance was staring out across the wasteland, memory flashing back to the horrors of his childhood during ShinRa’s assault on Wutai. After a couple of moments he shook himself and looked back over his shoulder and smiled at Alistair, “Sure, my friend,” replied Lance, removing one of his 8 orochi spears from the sheath across his back, “nice entrance, flashy but practical. Precise jump and effortless landing. Man after my own heart. I believe we’ll get on just fine.” He looked back to the former city, lying in tatters, masses of foliage sprouting where normal plants would find it impossible to inhabit. Ironic, he thought. The city that tried to take everything from the planet has now been overrun by the planet itself. The people that had lived there had lost everything, just like the people of Wutai had years before. For Lance this mission was not only about curing a disease, it was a chance for him to rebuild what was lost.

Lance closed his eyes and pointed his spear out to the horizon, then brought it in parallel to his body, a meditation ritual he had held since he started his training. Running his thumb over the dragon emblazon, he murmured a well practiced mantra. “May I have the strength to carry out this task. May my spear strike vengeance to those who oppose us. May my comrades have the strength to aid me when I fall.” Then in one swift movement he twirled the spear through his fingers and replaced it in its rightful sheath. Opening his eyes, he turned on one heel to face Alistair and leant against the bar surrounding the truck. “Now my friend. If we’re here, and Hail is in the cab, where may I ask are our other two allies?”

 

[Atma]

OOC - Tyche and Raven are to be auto-moved until they decide they want to make a post.


As the 'leader' of the band spaced out, warm steel reverberating 'neath his touch with the hum of the engine Hail slowly released his grip upon the handle of the door, sky-blue eyes were drawn to the only two he hadn't seen yet interact. If he was correct one of them could be recognised as a famous gambler from the Gold Saucer, the other much more grimly familiar to himself. Scowling faintly at the thought of what the second of the aforementioned may be yet to do to him or the rest of the band of mercs as his eyes met his own, Hail signalled with a wave of his hand for him to get out of public view with just a hint of distrust in his eyes. Only a touch, of course. The pale skinned man did as he was ordered yet only with a curiously smug smile. "Now, what was that...?" Muttered Hail under his breath, ignoring the driver as he absent mindedly queried with a Kalm accent, "What y' say?"

Before long it didn't matter, they came clear of the view of Edge as it was concealed beneath the gigantic view of the Midgar Ruins. As a strange feeling in his chest rose to a peak at the sight of the crumbling giant the urge to witness the tilted hat of a broken ShinRa corporation HQ took fearful hold of him. Orders were still orders however, as accentuated by the polite cocking of a gun by driver adorning the expression with a warm smile as he reached fro the handle. "Not 'till Ah' get us closer t' Kalm, stranger." Freezing in the moment Hail contemplated retaliating. It wouldn't be so difficult to remove him from the conscious world, but it would complicate the process of exchanging drivers and be difficult to explain - Especially if this idiot managed a shot in the brawl. "Alright." Yielded Hail with a faint sigh in the formality of upper-plate Midgar tones as he returned to silent contemplation for the duration of this borderline hostage situation.

As the view of the dead metropolis faded away into nothingness and derelict earth gave way to the green of life and farmland with yellow shimmer on horizons, Hail breathed a sigh of relief after the hick beside him shifted out of his black leather seat some two miles outside of Kalm, the whole convoy having parked up. Exiting the vehicle with click of doors the remnants of humanity's progressive destrcution of nature flickered back into thought briefly as the scent of grass after rain rushed to meet him with the cool air and the sight of turn turf cutting deep muddy lines in the ground. Shaking the thoughts from mind, the brunette stood with one hand upon the lead truck and called out to the others, "My name is Hail. I am the assigned Captain for the duration of this operation and thusly I would expect you to follow orders. I won't waste time with individual orders but to make it clear incase some of you are confused; We are travelling with a mission of peace. We have each been selected for our specialist skills because it seems that our employers - The ShinRa - Expect trouble. This cargo is the highest valued resource on this planet at the moment and as we have all likely experienced in the modern world people do prefer to choose greed over need." Briefly leafing his own words mentally the Captain was pleased with his detatchment from these people and his military doctrine infused with righteousness. These weren't more people he wished to watch die, at least not if he could help getting personal with them. "Form up!" Came a gentler call from the Midgar man as he tugged free a small brown paper-packed package from under the tarpaulin. Phones, ShinRa's little present. He'd wait until the group came over to distribute them.

 

[Johnny B3]

Alistair puzzled over lance’s ritual, it was clear that Lance was from Wutai just by looking at him, but the mantra itself wasn’t Wutai was it? No it wasn’t he decided and then thought about how it reflected the man who spoke it, he’s efficient, focused and well practiced “Well that’s odd.” He decided out loud and then realised he shouldn’t say those kind of things and the he said “Ignore me I’m thinking out loud it helps me get things into perspective.” AS he said this the convoy came to a halt in front of him and then his truck stopped moving too he took the opportunity to vault over the side of the truck and away form lance, distancing himself before he offended lance in some way as he always did with new people. Realizing he was being rude he shouted “Sorry I’ve gotta take a leak” he did too so he wasn’t lying it just wasn’t his main motive.

Al moved away from the camp, heading northwest at roughly 5 miles an hour pace, he got a good 200 hundred metres out stopped and planted hells breach in the ground next to him ready for an attack, “The only time your more vulnerable than when your sleeping is when your taking a leak, can’t fight back with your pointer spraying everywhere” he unzipped his pants and took a leak over the rural area he zipped up wiped his hand on the floor and then kangaroo kicked backwards feeling that someone was there we was mistaken and kicked at empty air he rolled over and picked up his scythe he gave it a twirl and headed back to camp where he saw a group of people gathering.

Mr Leyman reached the gathering and heard the conclusion too it "Why is the cargo so valuable if the source is apparently unlimited?” Al asked in direct confrontation of their new captain “I can understand why it’s useful but valuable, just seems like the wrong word, shouldn’t it be free to the peoples of our world like it was to the people of Midgar and the satellite city?” he waited for a response then decided it was not worth his time to wait he heard the man shout “Form up” and headed over. Al looked at the phones and smiled with modern surprise at the little variations in the designs he went for a ShinRa classic a model 2 slim black with a flip screen similar to the designated phones of the Turks, the phone bleeped and Al looked at it “Well that tone is no good let’s have a tinker with you.” He sat down and proceeded to flick through the menu system until he found the settings.

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance made no response to Al’s little outburst, he often travelled with some sort companion during his travels, each one finding him ‘different’, all in different ways. It was something he had grown accustomed to. After taking a deep breath, Lance took a small leap atop the cab of the truck and swept a gaze across the plain. At least there were no cliffs, and hardly any outcrops, ruled out the opportunity for an ambush. “If we were a few more miles east then we could be in trouble.” It had been many years since Lance had came to Kalm. The last time he had been passing it was on the way to take out a difficult mark. A Zolom that had been terrorising the nearby chocobo ranch. At the time it had been a worthy opponent. Now however, unless something had gotten into the water, it should be as easy to take as the soldiers that invaded Wutai.

Lance almost felt pity for them. The amount of untrained boys ShinRa sent to the slaughter was appalling. The assault ShinRa launched just shortly before the meteor event upon Fort Tamblin was another story. The Wutai forces couldn’t hold back all the opposing forces. Soldiers they could deal with, but against SOLDIER, they were hopeless. Lance could remember it clearly. Amidst the smoke and destruction, a boy, athletic, sword-bearer, skilled but overconfident, and those... eyes. Eyes so blue it seemed as if at birth he had captured the essence of a summer sky. Eyes that pierced the smoke and showed only power. If only he hadn’t been surrounded he could have stopped that boy. Lance clenched his fist and breathed deeply. He knew that boy was special, and he was not at fault. It was his employer that was. The same employer that he now aids his arm. “Ha, the life of a merc is rife with irony. Still, gotta keep with the job at hand.”

Happy that there were no threats in the immediate area, Lance back flipped off the cab, rotating in the air. He landed lightly, staring at Hail, trying to work him out. No doubt he was a born leader, and with those same blue eyes he must be a mighty swordsman. But behind the cloak there was something else, something Lance couldn’t put his finger on. After hearing the call from the Midgar man, Lance walked over to the man and accepted the phone. It was sleek; the flip ended with an audible ‘CLICK’, and the screen was bright and defined. “Nice model, would hate to lose it. Let’s hope it doesn’t fall out my pocket while I’m in the air, eh?” he laughed, “Now, let’s see...” he said as he patted himself down, “pockets, pooocketsss...damn.” Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled out what looked like a gun holster, the holster being too rectangular for any sidearm though. Wrapping it around his right arm, he slipped the phone into the holster and secured the top catch. Happy with the fit he smiled, “There, that should do it, knew it would come in handy eventually.”

 

[Toru]

Tyche took a firm grip of one of the phones given to him by Hail, and quickly introducing himself to the Captain.

"Thanks buddy. Name's Tyche, as I'm sure you've heard."

Walking away with a playful grin, he tossed the sleek digital device from palm to palm before quickly stuffing it away in his satchel, his hands skimming the small amount of Gil he had left in one of the hidden leather pockets of the small bag. Just the cold sensation of the small metal coins across his fingertips reminded him of his recent loss down at The Golden Saucer - his biggest crash on the tables yet. However ShinRa had not only assigned him with this delicate mission, but also given him money and offered full return on his recent gambling loss, should this mission be a success. Tyche was a lucky man, and alongside that he was quite the accurate show with his crossbow (his crossbow, mind. No other one will suffice.), so hopefully this would all pay off. Although, there were a few things that were bugging him, quite evident as well due to his grin fading into a thoughtful expression, his deep gaze looking out towards the limitless blue skies. The same company that has offered him a way out in return for his skills were also kind enough to destroy his home town. Was there something else ShinRa wanted? With a small amount of pros stood an either larger pile of cons. Either way, Tyche took a second to check out his new phone.

Giving the screen of his flashy new gadget a light tap, the ShinRa backdrop of the mobile glowed out potently. 'How fantastic.' Tyche thought to himself sarcastically. After a bit of navigating, he selected the 'Shop' icon from a drop menu. Tyche wasn't sure why that was there for the middle of long trek, but it displayed the Gil stored on his transaction card, which calmed his nerves a little. Despite being a very forward sort of person, introductions were never his strong point. As Alistair, Lance and 'That mysterious guy' stood around a distance away from him, Tyche debated whether to say hey or just lay back until it's really necessary. He couldn't decide, and that usually meant one thing.

"Time to dance, Double L."

Tyche pulled out one of his leftover pieces of Gil, and made a fist, putting the coin on top of it before flicking it up into the air. Heads he makes contact, tails he minds his own business. The Gil piece spun through the air and landed directly in Tyche's palm, which he quickly clenched and slapped onto the top of his other hand, before lifting his hand off to see the result. Tyche gave a sigh and turned around, storing the piece of gil away safe and snug - it was heads. Time to do what The Grinning Gambler thought he was terrible at.

"Afternoon fellas, sorry I haven't talked much during the trip. It's Route Tyche, but I'd appreciate it if you called me Tyche. Pleasure to meet you all." Tyche gave a friendly smile - allies were allies, but like everyone else he couldn't trust them all just yet.

 

[Atma]

Phones dispensed, Hail gave a nod of self and outward acknowledgement. "As you may already know these are fully customisable..." With a click of the phone's flip screen the backlit LCD shed blue light. "...With each member of the team already registered in your contacts on the relevant speed dials and a selection of shops available. If you have any preference please do enter the respective address. Shipments will take less than twenty-four hours courtesy of ShinRa. There is also the inclusion of a kill count and battle mode that the phone will lock into in the advent of violence. In the battle mode performance will be evaluated and calls outside of the local area will be locked down due to the strain on the hardware." A couple more surprises were naturally in place, but time would tell the nature within its whim. Securing phone to his belt with the clasp provided after appropriating it to ring and vibrate the supposed Captain turned eyes to the flickering shadow of motion approaching from the dust bowl Midgar Area. Field reports suggest the Devil Ride monsters infesting the area were eradicated in the Meteorfall and that the quadruped shadow fiends reminiscient of the Gi tribe that appeared before the second coming of a calamity, the appearence of Bahamut SIN before the rain. Probably nothing.

"As for the question, yes the resource is unlimited but transport and supply is not. People are nearly back on their feet but due to issues with a new fuel such the highly coveted oil, no matter how many people might be willing, too few vehicles have new or antique engines capable of processing current fuels. Airships are hard enough to come by as it is and the amount of fuel required would need some kind of personal stock or genius engineer." Sighing with a motion of adjusting long brown hair away from his eyes that returned from the horizon the male observed the sun-blocking creature had vanished. Toying with the grip of the polished gun in paranoia crossed with experience blue eyes shifted back to comrade. "And that concludes why our mission exists when you account for the lethality of people and the willingness of ShinRa for cloak and dagger business." A slight pang of resentment rang out through him for that last remark. ShinRa had done a lot to him but also an awful lot for him-- The emotions were cut short as a sentry called out a cry of monsters approaching.

It looked like they'd gone around instead of simply taking a dead-straight line. Monstrous red skinned hairless wolves nearly as big as the mercenaries themselves, Blood Tastes were their colloquial name as inherited by their thirst for blood and red-tinted saliva. As the ShinRa Military Personnel distributed rifles and machine guns amongst themselves Hail motioned for them to halt and ease back a perimeter for his group to deal with the wild creatures, their first test for him to see with his own eyes. "Form up and repel the enemy!" Pulling up an old fashioned SOLDIER blade from 'neath a dragged back tarpaulin the definition of mutatedly strong, rippling muscle on the beasts became apparant. To a normal civilian it might have been horrifyingly so came the final thought before combat intuition and tactical assessment rose up in its place. "Cloaks back on, MPs! Too close to Kalm!" As wayfaring cloaks and cowls were tugged back into place the pack of twelve wolves closed onto the group. Holding up two fingers and pointing to the pack with one the closest MPs to the pack squeezed off a handfull of round to shorten the numbers down to two each. The most mysterious of the group gave a disciplined horizontal swipe of his blade, severing the two in twain.

The remaining number gnashed, snarled and clawed with all their feral might toward the group, Hail casually dispensing of one with a two handed downward stab of his blade through the skull of one of the creatures; the second vaulted over with blade yanked free in the fluid motion, pivoted about on the spot from first leg landed and bloodied blade weaving horizontally upward through the creature and returning Hail to a standing position.

OOC: Sorry for the lacklustre fighting there. Wanted it over with. Feel free to interpret or even invent how your Blood Tastes are attacking and yes, you can set an alternate background for you battle mode/log if you so wish.

 

[Johnny B3]

“Ah thank you for clarifying that Hail, do you mind if I call you Hail? Well it doesn’t really matter to me what you think I’m going to call you Hail as it helps me get to know you and if I’m not comfortable with the group then I wont be comfortable in my work and if I’m not comfortable in my work things go bad, not just for me, for everyone.” Alistair sighed after his speech he wasn’t used to making long talks. “I guess I’ll have to get used to that. This is the first time I’ve worked as part of a group in a long time and I feel I should be sociable to enjoy the experience.”

After listening to Hail’s explanation of what the phones are actually used for he took his out again, he scrolled along the list until he found the shop menu. There were several shops: a weapon shop, useless for me, an item shop, that could come in handy and an accessory shop listed in his phone now the real question is should I add my personal suppliers shop to this phone, could they track him? Would it be bad if they could? Probably, I’ll play it safe for now.

“Ah a kill count” Al muttered under his breath well I wonder how useful this will be to us on this journey “Wait a minute, are4 ShinRa paying us by the kill? Well damn that’s sweet!” he quickly looked at his balance and realised that he was broke. That can’t be right my investments should still be secure oh that’s right they’re not accounted for by regular money measurement systems let’s leave those unasked about then.

He heard the call from Tyche and waved a menial greeting at him shouting “Hello!” from where he was sat he stood up and walked over towards Tyche thrust his hand out and then went for the hug squeezing Tyche in a bear hug fashion he set him down where they were, he then shook his hand and introduced himself “Nice to meet you, I’m Alistair but you can call me Al, I’m much more comfortable with that.”

He heard the call to arms and grinned like a maniac and smiled “This is what we were hired for boys let’s kick some ass” He flicked his arm and then felt his scythe flick out his witch hunter blade becoming an extension of his arm he spun his arm and propelled himself forward using the scythe as a propeller to take him forward he screamed “I DEFY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS” even though he knew perfectly well how it worked as he used the traction of the blade to pull himself forward he stopped in front of the two blood tastes that were assigned to him he flipped his arm out and sliced through the two front legs of the first blood taste and then kicked in the face snapping it’s neck he picked the second one up and beat the second one to death with it’s dead compatriot laughing as the blood flew from the dead animal, he was starting to develop a blood rage and he wouldn’t stop he screamed like a maniac and he just kept beating the dead monstrosity.

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance took Hail’s explanation of the phone into consideration. Although Lance never really had such use for one, he believed that it may come in handy none the less; after all, the one time you need a Hi-Potion is the one time you haven’t got one. After checking the inbuilt shops wide range of items, Lance noticed Tyche heading towards the group. He thrust a hand out in welcoming, “Hey, I’m Lance. If you ever need a hand, just holler. Always happy to lend a spear or 8” he said smiling.

Then came the cry. Lance whipped his head around and noticed the group of Blood Tastes bounding their way towards the group. “GAME ON!” Lance shouted as he took to the air. In the few seconds he was in mid-leap Lance recalled all the previous marks he had eradicated. Blood Tastes, pack mentality, divide and conquer. He also noticed Al’s huge scythe blade take a massive arc. “Can’t get too close now can I?” Death by ally was not at the top of Lance’s honourable death list.

He quickly formulated a swift manoeuvre and landed 10 feet away from his chosen marks. Stepping back with his right foot, Lance drew out the two spears from the bottom diagonal sheaths. As they slipped into his hands he focussed and exhaled. The front Blood Taste took a leap for the jugular. With lightning quick reflexes he struck the target under its lower jaw with the butt end of the right spear, launching it into the air as he stepped forward and struck its companion in the same manner with the left. Calculating the height, Lance launched himself 15 feet into the air, spinning arms in to increase his speed. When he as level with the two flailing hounds he thrust is arms out and stabbed the two spears down through their bodies, one through the stomach and the other just right of its spine, both completely impaled. Still thrusting down, Lance drove the two to the ground, landing on one knee. Straightening up, Lance pulled the spears out of the two corpses, swung each spear down to clear the gore from each head and re-sheathed the two, each one clicking into place.

 

[Atma]

OOC: Why am I shifting this on a day early? I already know how Toru and Raven fight. No issues there, I just needed to grasp how you two handled combat. As a note, Autoing of enemies/allies is 100% forbidden from here on out. We are approaching a second page, eh? You guys should be coming to terms with things now. Time to move on, gents.

Oh yeah, Post Order Altered.
----
Drawing the chrome-finish pistol the Captain steadied the already firmly gripped weapon with his free hand, sweeping it across his allies as they dispensed of foes left, right and centre. Satisfied, Hail gave motion for the MP escorts to spread out and check for remanants of the pack, calling out in calm and authorative tone, "I want three men to stay behind and secure the tarpaulins and check the rigging. From now on the mercenary team is designated Cactus Jack and the MP team is Golden Chocobo!" Pausing to secure his pistol with a click of metal stud on leather strap, ignoring the slight perplexion of some of Golden Chocobo's reaction to designation. As the three set out about their work, the swordsman did his utmost to remain calm at the shout of sporadic shots ringing out as a loose perimeter was established in his peripheral vision. Shaking his head in some effort to refocus himself the progressive decline of the sun became apparant. "Fall in and mount up, Cactus Jack! I want you all ready to move as soon as Golden Chocobo cleans up." The militaristic facade felt peculiar and would likely peel away sooner or later. Granted he was beholder of the rank Captain but that by no means was his personal choice, feeling strange sending the team out then back again. It was these strangers he wanted to keep at arms length for the sake of the mission and the rest of the team. The one with spears seemed to favour what might be referred to as an echo of surgical precision; the scythe user a little more heavy handed; the robed one efficient and the gambler a 'wild card'.

Ten minutes until they moved out by his reckoning- No, he was in charge now. "Ten minutes to clean up then mount back up, Golden Chocobo!" That was something along the lines of empowering and simultaneously degrading given the identity behind the soldiers. Vanquishing the thought, Hail stood beside the tanker in the middle of the convoy if anyone had queries or points of interest to raise before they departed.

 

[Johnny B3]

Blood was everywhere; it gushed from the stumps of the first Blood Taste and now after Alistair’s brutal abuse several other places including the back of its head, just above the sine and throughout most of the places in the front where the ribs were shattered and had punctured the skin. Al’s laugh grew more maniacal as the blood flecked his face and matted into his hair, the handle of his scythe grew bloody and the wood started staining a deeper shade of red this is how the shaft gained it’s colour in the first place as it was a standard mahogany with a nice varnish it is now the deep red that you only see when a stain is applied to wood this colour was built up over many years of his aggressive berserker rage.

The rage, where did it come from Al thought to himself, he did not have an answer to this, well not in his conscious thoughts anyway.

The rage started roughly three years ago, he was in a bar room brawl out at the golden saucer and he punched a man so hard he coughed up blood the blood splashed his face, something inside him changed dramatically he pulled the man who was doubled over up by his scalp slammed him against the wall and commenced to punch him in the face giggling to himself he had to be pulled away from the man who’s face was barely recognizable, the man was not killed, and Alistair was immediately sorry and paid the man a huge amount in compensation and ever since then if blood has hit his face in a fight, including his own, he goes into a fury and needs to be dragged away from his “enemy” before he stops hitting them.

The rage is a build up of Alistair’s unconscious hate and contempt for the world around him and how the world has influenced him without his realization of it. The root of this contempt is a group of mercenaries who came into his hometown and murdered his cat , Jonathan, in front of him Alistair then meticulously proceeded to kill each of the mercenaries in a different way giving his town a reputation and him an even worse one.

OOC- This means someone will have to snap me out of my rage, i give permission for me to be auto'ed out of it but only to be moved away from the victim of the rage. you may also slap me to snap me out as well.

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance turned around, noticing that all the foes had been dealt with. “One problem down,” he muttered, then turning to the source of maniacal laughter that had been playing for the majority of the fight. Al was still standing there, laughing; brandishing the remains of what was unrecognisably a Blood Taste, beating its strewn corpse upon the ground, leaving the surrounding plain around his feet slick with crimson. Lance had heard of rumours about people who could enter a blinding rage, but never did he believe them. But now the frenzied carnage was unfolding in front of him. A Blood Rage.

Lance began to fluster. He knew how to cure most ailments but this was something else. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the many rumours he had heard. ‘A blood rage is induced by vast quantities of blood coming into contact with the sufferer; the part of the body differs from person to person’. Taking one look at Al gave it away instantly; his face was caked in blood, some dry, most still dripping off his chin. “Best get that thing away from him,” Lance said as he leapt forward and launched an Orochi. Just as Al raised his hand for another pound, the black spear caught the matted corpse and wrenched it from his grip. Immediately after the spear whistled past, Lance landed in front of the mad-man and back handed him across the face. Pointing straight at him Lance calmly said “No....Stop it. Fights over friend. Calm yourself.”

After ensuring Al had completely regained composure, Lance recovered his spear and walked back to the convoy. Leaning against the pick-up, Lance looked over to Hail. “Well that was fun,” he smiled, “not to say that I’m not one for combat, but more will come, and their numbers will be greater. What’s our next move?”

 

[Atma]

Observing the sequence of events, Hail was displeased to say the least. Witnessing one of his allies losing his wits was clearly a disconcerting sight though the actions of another sweeping in to remedy the situation was welcome enough. As the calmer of the two approached post-dispatch of the creature, Hail offered up a nod of thanks before words came. "I know you mean well but your idle talk is unappreciated. This stop was unplanned and Golden Chocobo is already cleaning things up, get the beserker up into the truck with you and keep him in check until Kalm." Sky blue eyes switching over to the blood-thick scythe wielder... "As for you, clean up your face. I have no intention for anyone to freak out because a lunatic has entered their town bearing supposed gifts." Tossing over an olive drab canteen in his direction, the superior officer had no care for if he caught it or not.

Hauling himself into the cab of the lead truck for the remnant of the journey to Kalm that was yet to be made, he observed the darkly clad stranger and the crossbow wielding gambler bunk up in the rear-most truck. At least they had the sense to keep an eye on things or at elast out of the way. As soon as the others entered they would make their steady way to the farmside town of Kalm, the drivers by now revving the engines of their vehicles in anticipation and signalling of ten minute time drawing to an end; Golden Chocobo drawing back from their perimeter and handing over weapons to be hidden. After they hit the town the features of their phones would unlock, far more benficial. Scrubbing idleness from his brain in the brief seconds, Hail called out, "Move it along, Cactus Jack!" At the idle pair outside.

 

[Johnny B3]

Alistair staggered back "What, what the hell was I doing?!" he screamed "Why would I do something like that? Oh god it happened again didn't it?" Alistair fell to the floor and clutched his knee's to his chest he sobbed a bit and looked around him to see what the others had been up to while he had been released of his inhibitions and apparently all control. He saw Lance who had helped him out of his situation he stood up and the blood dripped of his face he walked over to lance “I’m sorry friend, I’m so so sorry is there anything I can do to help you, anything I can do to redeem myself in your eyes? I can understand if you don’t see me in the same way anymore and don’t trust me I can” he babbled to the spear wielding gentleman.

Alistair heard Hails call and turned around to face him. He caught the flask thrown towards him he then walked over to his compartment in the convoy he took out a full body hiking bag from it. The contents of the bag were an assortment of many things you’d typically need on an adventure but never actually get used like ropes and bandages, Al found what he was looking for and pulled out a violent green towel “Never leave home without your towel, it’s the most important thing for an adventurer.” He poured the contents of the flask over him and then towelled himself off vigorously. He screamed towards the front of the convoy “I’m all ready Captain Sir. I apologize for my actions in the previous battle and I will try my best not to let that side out again, please dock my pay if you feel the need to.”

 

[finite-infinity]

“As cold as the name suggests,” Lance thought as he watched their captain climb into the cab, “then again, we all have emotions we want to keep a secret, maybe he has too. We’ll never know”. Turning to Al, Lance smiled, “In all my years travelling I’ve never seen someone do that before, and there’s no need to apologise, I’m sure you’ll have my back plenty of times while we’re travelling together. Just wished you gave me a heads up before the fur went flying.”

Lance climbed into the back of the pick-up and sat cross legged, taking the spear holster off his back as he did so. Laying the 8-pointed star down in front him he picked off a bit flesh that had remained caught in the spear head, he took closer attention to the gold dragons that lined each one. The light often played tricks with the Orochi’s, making it seem like the dragons where dancing from one spear to the next. Laughing he popped the holster cover off his right arm and pulled the phone out. Flicking the screen, he decided to tinker with the other settings. Returning to the home screen, he noticed the number ‘2’ pulsating in the top left corner, blood red. “Two enemies down, let’s see how many more this quest will throw at us.”

 

[Atma]

OOC: Cycle postponed an extra day. I apologise. Post reserved.
OOC2: Time to see how you gents deal with a stealth mission...

Contemplating the offer set forward by the tall man standing in the field with quite a wild appearence, Hail felt nothing but a sinking sensation. Could he really manage this team? Memories surfaced like the cresent form of a scythe through his mind, silver radiance shimmering a soft song through darkly clouded emotions. Shaking them mildly with a faux resolve, the determination to complete this dirty job and banish it from the foul whence it came surfaced through the heart's stratosphere, the Captain calling out through the window in his deep yet youthful voice, "No pay docked, just take more care next time!" And that was that.

As the clambering soldiers-in-disguise and blood-paid-mercenaries returned to the convoy with beeps of squeaking horns to announce it like the insistance of the corporation itself at the back of his wits over the following minutes, Hail ordered the company to move on ahead forwards through the pale green grassy knolls ahead to the socially sleepy town of Kalm just down the way. That said the townspeople were very much so keen on internal affairs, it was a simple matter of a disregard of the politics of external matters beyond an awareness of the general welfare.

As tires clunked over cobble stone streets spidering out from the town centre the scent of turf faded away and was replaced with gentle industrialisation, like that of this village turned town sporting precariously raised houses left and right on stone brick hills with each red drab tiled roof meeting white or gey painted stone walls with neatly spaced Georgian bar windows, the polished grey rifle barrel clanged against the dashboard of the vehicle between the Captain and driver as it escaped from burlap wrappings between seats. Hail saw an opportunity arise, shifting to plant one foot firmly against the floor of the tanker truck, knee into the leather seat and upper body to face the man at his left as enhanced reflexes darted pale fingers of right hand forward to enclose about the man's wrist and dig into the flesh as distraction, left lashing a disorienting slap to the man; rogue hand clenching as elbow rose briefly then fell downward as if thunder's fury to snap the bones of his detained forearm in twain. Briefly cursing himself for the wide angle and carelessness of slapping the man as the tingle in his hand faintly resonated through sparking neural pathways the gunmetal rifle's body was clasped by the right hand, barrel brought into contact with the pained man's neck to halt the impending scream as it twisted in his tanned skin, sky-blue man's left coming to meet the now side-angled easily available grip and flick on the safety before retracting and jabbing forth like some mercury-tongued demon to his temple, vanquishing his conscious mind.

A mercenary, a pawn and a soldier paid into deceit he may be but this Ex-SOLDIER had no intention of being a prisoner. Thankful for the tinted windows Captain Hail felt a churn of guilt within his mako-coloured soul. Is this really what he had come to now, a dog of the god-corporation once more...? Pondering such things, Hail drew in his cloak about himself and flicked the release switch on the console for their phones to be debited the money for their earlier work. A small vibration message to each phone would be dispatched, 200Gil per Bloodtaste. Slamming shut the door with a clack a sealed set of contract papers was turned over to the leader of the committee waiting to greet them.

The committee itself consisted of what seemed to be a mayoral family, observed through strands of brown hair as the balding portly man in an apparantly not quite generously sized enough white shirt and jeans restrained by a typical buckled belt leafed through the black inked information put forward. It wasn't Hail's job to read, just to deliver the product and make sure what was there was distributed. Briefly a greying handlebar mustache caught sight, prompting a quiver of amusement before the leader continued to survey the family. A little girl in a red dress with hair in pigtails peeked out from behind her father, clutching onto his jeans quite affirmedly as she eyes the robed man before her. Unsurprising... But no sign of a wife. Instead what could be identified as eldest and youngest sons by their features stood either side of their father sternly. The younger - Hail's age - held onto a locally forged blade qwith quivering hand and the older a poorly concealed pistol behind his back with quite the calmer demeanour. This was definately the high life ... Young boys clad in punk outfits with swords and suit-smark smiling assassins. Finally yielding a grunt of affirmation and handing the papers over to his youngest the Mayor pointed to the water tower atop one of the fort-reminiscient stone slab built hills. Leaving them to their business, the Mayor and his daughter wandered off. Team Golden Chocobo began maintenance on the externals on all of the vehicles bar the lead tanker.

"Alright!" Declared Hail, voice slightly off tone due to his prolonged silence and residual tension of the brief situation earlier. "Up there is the water tower..." Pointing quite clearly to the steel cylinder. "...Hook up the extendable hose from the rear of the lead tanker and get up there! I need one of you to volunteer for a little job. How about you, Lance?" The extendable hose itself was some of the latest ShinRa experimentation with attempted capsule compression technology, requiring no connection as it was simply a feature of the tank where one would expect a release valve to be situated. One would pull on the metal ring, it would come free and extend as far as required. Once the small green release button was pressed on the rim of the mouth of the hose, the iris on the tanker would open and a pressurised feed of water would be delivered. The hose itself was naturally a new polymer-metal hybrid, no spillages and a maintained high pressure flow plus damn difficult to break. ShinRa's investment was of course given the best treatment.

Turning his back on the two gentlemen, the brunette awaited an answer from his proposed volunteer. Naturally, Lance was free to decline.

 

[finite-infinity]

The town seemed just as it was the last time he’d been here, and as the name suggested, everything was calm. Standing up, he eyed the crowd that had gathered at the head of the convoy. They seemed desperate to receive their share of the cure. As much as most seemed thankful for the arrival of the convoy, there were those that seemed equally anxious. Then again, the arrival of 5 strangers who are deceptively heavily armed could have that effect. Lance picked up the spear holster and reattached it to the clip on his back. Re-adjusting to the slight weight of the spears, Lance vaulted over the side the truck and began to walk to where the captain was overseeing the operation.

Taking Hails little task into consideration, Lance eyed the tower up. It wasn’t badly built, the solid base offering all the supply it could ever need. “No problem, I’ll take care the transfer,” Lance smiled, “besides, a complete vertical take-off, been a while since I had to try one of them.” As Lance approached the rear of the tanker, he quickly checked the dispenser. No doubt ShinRa wanted to make sure everything would run smoothly down to finest detail, and the hose was no exception. Pulling on the ring, the hose didn’t offer any resistance, plus it was incredibly light, which was a bonus considering the straight jump it was about to take. Slowly walking over to the water tower, Lance turned around and checked that the hose wasn’t causing an obstruction to the people of the town. Happy that there was no harm done, Lance took a deep breath and bent his knees slightly, “Here goes something.” He took a straight launch upwards, reaching the top of the tower in no time at all. At the peak of the jump, Lance did a text book backflip, landing with his toes just over the plateau. Turning around to face the holding tank, Lance attached the hose and pressed the green button. The hose started to reverberate with the pressure of the water gushing through, and the distinct sound of falling water could be heard from within the tank.

While the tank was filling up, Lance took the chance to take in the sights around Kalm. From the top of the tower he could see a fair way across the horizon, the blue tranquil sea to the north and the tall mountain range that divided this continent in two to the south east. He was about to close eyes and start to meditate when a deep electronic beep came from the head of the hose. Realising the fill had been completed; Lance detached the hose and jumped to the bottom of the tower and began to walk back to the tanker, the hose automatically retracting back into place. After clicking the head back into place, Lance reported back to Hail, “Transfer complete. Gotta hand it to them, ShinRa really don’t hold back on tech that’s benefiting them.”

 

[Johnny B3]

Al watched Lances jump with amusement “Well that’s a damn fine jump if I do say so myself and I a do say so.” Al looked towards their leader waiting to see if he was to be given a task he wait d a good few minutes and then said “If it’s okay with you boss I’m going to take a look around the town scout out the area and what not, just in case.” In case of what he wasn’t sure but he figured hell still better to be safe than sorry. He secured his scythe on his back making sure the blade was covered for 2 reasons first so that he did not scare any of the villagers and second to make sure that his blade did not rust or dull.

Al wandered around for a bit, aimlessly just kind of wondering what he should be looking for and then he knew his objective as his eyes drew upon it “Now that is an observation point” He whistled with glee and sprinted, actually sprinted at the tower in his line of sight when he came upon it the door was locked but this wouldn’t deter him from his goal of reaching the top of the tower, he scanned the building looking at the wall the bricks were fairly loose probably a result from the damage the area had received in the past, there was also a fair bit of space between bricks which gave him handholds to climb up. Al started climbing and when he reached the top he swung into what was apparently a bell tower. He turned to look at the town as a whole.

 

[Toru]

Tyche strolled the dark grey paved streets of Kalm showing a clear level of boredom. Kalm wasn't very amused by the dull appearance of the village as a whole, but catching a glimpse of one of Lance's signature jumps was amazing; Alistair could also agree with him. Watching a Dragoon almost take flight was really a sight, but aside from that, there was almost nothing to do, except search through the houses of the villagers, but what sort of freak would do that?

Instead, shopping would be Tyche's forté. Breaking away from CJ as they were all busy, Tyche made his way into a nearby store, taking a deep breath of the musty shop air. A girl a couple of years younger than him, it seemed, greeted him with a smile from the counter. Tyche tipped his gave a slight nod as he went to walk around the shop, where he came across an item which was fetching indeed. He recognised the glow of the crystal in a magical Fire Ring; but alas, this was only the crystal. It had been re - modeled into a charming little pendant Tyche liked the look of. He took it to the counter, fumbling in his pocket for his card. The girl at the counter took a check of the item and gave a slight expression of appreciation.

"That's quite the eye you have there, sir - it's a very rare item from what I've heard."

"So I've heard as well - I'm sure it'll help me along the way during this little trek," Tyche scanned his card, loosing a hefty 7,000 gil from his account. "and it would've made a charming gift for a nice little lady such as yerself."

The girl at the counter gasped silently, reddening at Tyche's comment. Before she could say any more, he was out the door, putting the Fire Pendant around his neck with a grin.

Tyche exited the shop with a flirtatious spring in his step, looking around for the man with the plan, Hail. Sure enough, there he was, looking down away from the large water tower. Tucking the pendant underneath his shirt, he adjusted his overcoat and made his way over to him. Maybe he'd have something interesting for him to do to kill the time before he had to laze around in the convoy once again.

"Hey, Sir! Have you got anything to do for a bored old sharpshoot such as myself?"

 

[Atma]

The sight of obediance amongst the ranks was refreshing when contrasted against the behaviour exhibited earlier in the day. At the approach of one of his subordinates after what could be barely twenty minutes of idle wandering within the mind, a clearing of the throat was a necessity.

"Ah, the wandering gambler." Pondering what tasks might be available to such an interestingly eager character, Hail stood aside with a clack of boots on stone and motioned with an open hand to the door of the lead tanker. Thumb dancing over keypad, a text was dispatched with a digitsed wark of a chocobo to the gambler. With that, Hail closed the cape about himself and strode off to engage the mayoral boys in idle banter - to both distract them from and to enable his new comrade in arms. The message itself read:

Thank you for the offer. Inside the tanker you will find the body of an unconscious ShinRa Peacekeeping Force soldier, please discard of the body with no traces of his links to ShinRa. If necessary, kill him. An additional 1500Gil will be debited to your account upon completion of this delicate matter and remember - You must not be seen, at the very least the body not identified. The mess is no issue.

It was simply a cruel designation of Hail's nature. The body itself was slumped over the dashboard, blood leaking from the man's scored temple and a swlling of it from his broken arm. The mess was indeed no issue for Tyche to deal with but certainly the blood would be. Still, there was the fallen burlap used to cover the rifles across Hail's seat. "Please, relax. We don't intend to cause any trouble--"
"We saw what you did outside of town." Chimed the youngest in a disruptive manner decorated in the hightened pitch of paranoia. "I assure you that was simply for our own safety. We are doing our best to help everyone." Put forth the mercenary, pensive of how many would share this view.
"Then why, gracious benefactor of our humble countryside town..." Interjected the eldest into his thoughts. "...Would what I assume are your men carry their weapons openly if you intend to provide peace?" This brought a tension to the man's robe-hidden chest. Breaking from the momentary freeze and meeting his eyes with his own the Ex-SOLDIER elaborated eloquently, "A matter that slipped from the mind by no purposefully malicious intentions of their own, dear host." The eloquency was indeed strained through his forced politeness and a false semi-smile creeping amongst his features. Apparantly adequately amused the eldest nodded with his own hauty expression before gaze shifted elsewhere.

Breathing a discreet relief as the youngest's paranoid jitters cause him to glance about, Hail dispatched a further text to his other assosciates.

Lance, Alistair. Check your weapons and stow them, the townspeople are getting jittery. We need to leave a good impression here but there are other machinations at work - so I have a job for you two. One of you needs to go to the local pub and make everyone aware their cure has arrived; the other is in charge of flitting around the town to check the pressure of the various water pumps. The four are atop the four corner buildings of the town, you can find a device to fit onto the valve to adjust the pessure in the second tanker. The pumps themselves are within grey boiler-like containers for protection from weathering with the valve nozzle stemming from the pipes protruding from the sides and down into the buildings. Be swift.

And that was the final detail in his mission brief for this town. After Kalm they were on their own in terms of such helpful, miraculous and conveniant mission statements. They were also outside of ShinRa's grasp...

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance’s right arm began to emit a sharp fanfare. Realising it was the phone, he flipped it open and read Hail’s message. “Aint no rest for the wicked. Well if it’s atop a set of buildings I reckon I should take that one then. After all, Al has such a way with words,” Lance smiled as he tapped a message to Al telling the more athletic challenge had been taken. Taking his weight off the tanker, Lance took off the spear holster and laid it on the ground, “One spear is easier to store than 8”, he said as he crouched down. Systematically, Lance withdrew each black spear and placed it to the left of the holster. To anyone who had been watching Lance do this, it would have seemed like Lance was repeating the same movement several times. As Lance placed the second spear to the left, he put it atop the first spear head to tail. As soon as the two made contact, a dark haze began to flow out the two. Then slowly the second slowly descended into the first, creating a duel ended Orochi, each end with a single spear head. Starting as what seemed black mist, the haze grew thicker and darker as each spear was placed atop the next, until a rectangular soup like darkness lay at Lance’s feet. As the eighth and final spear was laid across its brothers, the darkness dissipated to a golden beam, which would have blinded Lance if he was not prepared for it. Laying there was a single golden spear, black twin dragons lining the shaft, barbed spearheads atop both sides. It was a pity Lance had to bring out the Otangue just for petty storage, hoping it would see combat, but orders were orders. Grabbing the top lock of holster, Lance rotated the locks clockwise until they all pointed vertically and slotted the golden spear into place, storing it the back of the pickup, under some tarp and grabbed the devices from the tanker. “Right,” Lance sighed as he stretched, “time for a run, I think.”

Lance made for the far corner of town first, darting past the stores. Noticing some crates down the alley-side of one store, Lance quickly bounded up and landed atop the houses. The first valve set was straight in front of him. Slowly walking over to the pipes, looking for the valve. “This may not be modern tech, but why does I take so long to work these things…. Aha!” he shouted as he found the first valve and attached the device. Running along the back straight of the houses he spotted the second valve and attached the device with ease. Continuing his run to the southern corner of the town Lance realised slippery the tiles under his feet were, slowing his pace slightly to make sure he didn’t slip. The third valve was just as simple as the other two, “Could get used to this, the odd run now and then.” Following the outer line of houses, Lance realised he had chosen the wrong corner to start with, as there was now the gap that was created by the towns entrance broke the line of houses. “Well, another gap, another jump,” Lance laughed as he began to run again, picking up the pace for the jump, “and with a hop and a skip and a jum…..GODDAMNIT!” Lance shouted as the end tile slipped beneath his feet. Careering towards the ground Lance twisted to land feet first. Pitching his weight forward, he landed knees bent and absorbed the majority of the momentum, putting a hand to the cold cobbles to stabilise himself, and kicked upwards, releasing the energy like a spring. The angle was dodgy but Lance was happy with the recovery. Just missing the edge of the next building, Lance shot diagonally over the roof, and landed with a forward roll, skidding to a halt, as luck would have it, in front of the next valve. Lance just stood there and stared at the valve for about a minute, then burst into uncontrollable laughter. Composing himself, Lance placed the final device onto the valve, turned around and dropped to the ground. Coincidentally he landed outside the pub, considering a drink, but choosing against it, Lance walked back in the direction of the tankers. “A drink may not be such a good idea, besides, Al may be still discussing the cure with the townsfolk.”

 

[Johnny B3]

There was a bleep and Al looked around, he realised no one else could possibly be there and reasoned that the bleep came from his phone. Al crouched down and pulled up the left leg of his trousers, he slid his hand into his sock and pulled out the phone he had stored in it. Al flipped the phone up, skimmed through the message realised the severity of their situation he cursed out loud and then started to work.

After reading the message Al tucked the phone back in his sock. He unbuckled the strap that was strung around his left shoulder “Sorry buddy but I’m going to have to leave you here you’re causing too much suspicion with the locals.” Al whispered regretfully, he hid Hells Breach inside the tower; no one would know it was there.

“Stealth is the key here, and the best way to be stealthy is to avoid unnecessary actions,” Al recited to himself initiating his protocol to stay calm, talking through things to himself. “Al went to the door, it was locked like the bottom door. “Shit.” Al cursed again he then scanned his surroundings, spotting the pub and looking for any civilians. He saw a group of three approaching on the west side so he proceeded to climb down the eastern face of the tower.

The climb that had felt so easy on his adrenaline fuelled way up felt ridiculous on his way down, “What where you thinking man?” Al asked out loud and shook his head he gripped his fingers in-between the grouse and mortar that held the tower together. He heard voices and froze; he looked down and saw the group of three underneath him. He waited for the group to pass it felt like hours to him even though it couldn’t have been more than 20 seconds. He proceeded to make his way down without any further problems, al breathed a sigh of relief brushed himself off. Once again looking respectable he made his way to the pub.

Al walked into the pub casually and walked up to the barkeep and ordered a bloody scotch “What’s a bloody scotch?” Asked the barkeeper, Al explained it was a drink of his own making consisting of: scotch, orange juice and tomato juice. The barkeep set to work so Al got started on his work.

Al banged his hand on the bars counter and shouted “People of Kalm may I have your attention?!” He waited a minute so that everyone could settle down and pay attention too him “I bring good news for those of you affected by Geostigma or Star Scar cancer whichever you prefer to call it, thanks to the generous efforts of the ShinRa corporation we have been able to transport Cetrans promise here to your town for those affected please go an consume the cure, that is all.”

The barkeeper looked at Al with shock as he passed al his drink “Thank you, how much do I owe you?”
“Nothing at all, sir” Replied the barkeep “In fact I should be paying you. My wife took ill with the stigma and we’ve been trying to raise the money to take her to the wellspring but you’ve saved us, thank you.”
“I’m only doing my job; it’s no worries glad I could help to be honest.” Al took a sip of his scotch and wished that someone he knew would come and have a drink with him.

 

[Toru]

*Wa - kark! Wa - kark!*

Tyche looked down at the message on his phone, the bright light of the display highlighting his rugged face in the near colourless evening. His eyes quickly scanned over the message, and his eyebrows came up slightly before he acknowledged his private task. He looked up towards Hail and nodded as he went to distract the Mayor and his family. Tyche slipped quietly into the Tanker before quickly finding his unconscious target. He took a sigh, and quietly brought the man to his senses.

"Nghnn, wha... what's going on? You're... one of the mercs, right? What happened to me?"

Tyche nodded and gave a grin, reassuring the ShinRa pawn. "That's me alright; don't worry about what happened for the time being, just relax. Let me help you up..." Tyche calmly brought the man from lying down to sitting up with gentle hands, which the still confused trooper seemed to appreciate. As the soldier kept himself steady as best as he could, Tyche walked around and talked to him - the tanker walls were thick enough, this level of volume would be just fine and not rouse any suspicion. "So, can you remember what exactly happened, soldier?"

"Last thing I remember was the being on the convoy... the... the Captain... dear god!"

"Shhh shh shh, not too loud now. The monsters could strike at any moment if you carry on shouting."

The soldier brought his voice down to Tyche's level. "Monsters!?"

"Exactly. You've been out for a while - I'll fill you in later. Now, what did Captain Hail do to you?"

"He attacked me, last thing I can remember is the blow to the head, and -"

"Alright, that's enough," By this point, Tyche was down at the man's level and had both of his hands on the soldier's shoulders. "That's... surprising. I never thought such things of the Captain. Don't worry, I'll help you now. Just relax, and..."

*CRICK!*

"Die, ShinRa scum."

If there was anything he truly hated, it was the organisation that destroyed his home. Tyche brought his hands from the soldier's head, semi - attached to a severely broken neck. Tyche brought out the canteen attached to his belt and began cleaning the body with fresh water, cleaning the mess as best as possible. If anyone asks about the small traces of blood on the floor, Tyche has an accident whilst exploring the tanker's systems and has been punished severely for his irresponsible behaviour.

Tyche had dealt with situations like this before on other jobs, a few bounty cases for example, so tasks like these were not a worry. Although, he never really felt good about doing them - he always thought human life was an importance to him, but when putting money into the equation, he felt sinful to say he couldn't decide which he cherished more. There was a lot more behind Tyche's grin than what met the eye.

Tyche opened the lead door slowly, and looked around - Hail and the family had disappeared, and the coast was clear. Slipping through the night, he made his way to the outskirts of the village with his company. Next to a small lake, he disrobed the corpse and threw the body in there, taking a large breath after the process.

Now the deed was done, Tyche sent a short snappy conformation message to Hail.

All done.

It was about now that Tyche was starting to realise how two of his colleagues were frankly, completely nuts. Alistair was a cheery, eager character - even more so than Tyche, but the knight's bloodlust which was witnessed whilst he was on the convoy was horrific - Tyche hoped that Al wouldn't go through such a transformation again, and as for Hail...

Tyche has his suspicions over his Captain, and he'd heard it straight from the soldier's mouth. Why Hail had suddenly knocked a soldier cold when he's part of a peace - making operation he couldn't understand. Maybe he was indeed as crazy as Al. How could Tyche make such accusations though, when he himself quickly obliged to killing the soldier? ShinRa or not, Tyche broke the man's neck with ease; Tyche's mind was in to much of a fluster to come to terms with what he'd done - it was clear he'd have to mull this over later.

Coming back to the village, he decided to head to the pub to cool his nerves after what he had done, and to also see Alistair. The atmosphere of the pub was surprisingly stale, much like the lingering smell of the alcohol. Everyone had their eyes fixed on Al, and a few on Tyche. Alas, conversation started to brew and fizz once more like the ale, and Tyche sat himself next to Al. The gambler ordered a Drunken Moogle on The Rocks, and murmured to Al with a smile,

"I take it from that shock the message got by okay then, right?" There was chuckle and a sip of his drink before he continued. "I'm glad to see that we're already getting off to a flying start. Let's keep it up, partner."

The words seemed gentle enough, but they were nothing compared to the storm passing through Tyche's head.

 

[Atma]

More than halfway aware of the peculiar nature of the movements in the town, the motive of the appointed leader had simply been one of self-defence. Naturally, his subordinates did not know of this at the present time but as was part of his plan of course, arrangements were being created to provide ample opportunity to divulge such choice information.

This was certainly not the first time nor the last that ShinRa had tried to dispose of their assets in order to leave behind no evidence of their misadventures. After all, as far as the general public was concerned the infamous ShinRa Peacekeeping Force had died along with Midgar. If only they knew how closely to their bosom were these deceitful tools of treachery nestled…

… Despite all of this the machinations of one Captain Hail would unravel the oncoming schemes to rob them of their lives, or so he could desperately hope. Eyes turning to the vague direction of the bar his peculiar sky-blue eyes awaited the anticipated response movement of the people.

Within, the bartender had spent no little amount of time perpetuating this long awaited crisis response amongst the usual rabble of drunkards, socialites and individuals wishing to bury the crushing memory of loved ones perishing to the stigma. With his initial statement received well with a cheer, many of the town quickly dispatched themselves from the gloom, many rags and eyes tear weary with joy and even the wife of one man halting upon her knees, taking hand of Alistair in both of her own with wails of joy and thanks repeated again and again until her voice fell hoarse and bartender eased her away with parting smile and notation of, “Help yourselves! You’ve done this town a service!” As expected of this town’s vernacular before small brass bell ringing his departure left them alone in this bar, yet no slam of the door came as the image of Captain Hail stood in the doorway before them, polished handle in his anxious grip.

As soon as the first being had left the bar Hail had made adequate distraction of declaring it to the town superiors with the duo sampling his bait and turning their attention to the oncoming congregation. Peeling away into houses and returning to the stone cut streets with ill family members, the air alive with conversation, atmosphere thick with anticipation and desperation. By the time they had taken note and turned attentions back to the leader of the visitors the last hint of him was his obscuring cloak flicking about a distant corner. Weaving amongst the people and edging through the crowd to reach his objective before the amassing of bodies shed him from obscurity was easy enough to be sure. It was as the last wisp of pursuers of alcohol departed followed neatly by their proprietor encouraging a joy-stricken woman that he slipped into the midday sunned doorway of such a place as this.

Regaining his calm composure with nary a spat of internal wrestling, the Ex-SOLDIER calmly set closed the door and addressed the men before him. “Alistair, Lance. I am afraid I have an important matter to discuss with you gentlemen.” Sparing a few moments to eye Tyche he considered the range of superstitions he had likely aroused in this man before him. Breathing deeply to try and dispel the rush required of him and accolades of alcohol assailed his sense of smell with the ever so increasingly close air of tension magnifying the paranoia. “I am sure that you, monsieur gambler have quite the head full of curio regarding my task set forward to you earlier. I would like to elaborate on this matter as of the moment whilst my diversion persists – a diversion of good health to the masses.” Glancing behind him through the wood-slit blinds to snatch any vision of approaching troops, they seemed quite unreadily occupied with the flock of citizens. “Well gentlemen, have you any queries to put to me before I begin? Assuming you accept, of course.” And that was to say, the Captain was quite ready to accept anyone unwilling to respond to his proposed briefing.

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance sat in deep thought as Hail raised his question, clearing his mind through the slightly hazy wisps of thoughts that soared through his head, “One too many Cactuar Needles me thinks” he murmured. The drink he was referring to was Lance’s second favourite, losing out to Wyrm Wing Whisky, the Cactuar Needle being a slightly fluorescent green liquid usually served with ice that, though refreshing, left a slight prickling sensation at the roof of the mouth. Lance’s main concern lay with Otangue, his treasured spear still lay with the tankers, and hoping that no-one stumbled upon it. Shaking his head, Lance tried to stabilise his thoughts. There was nothing that came to his immediate attention, everything so far seemed to have gone fine. Looking in Hails general direction, Lance tried to form the correct words without sounding too slurred, “There’s nothing I can think of that needs explaining, just a desire to get back on the road and continue on. I do apologise for my current state by the way, as you can tell, I may be a little bit drunk.” Ending with a grin, Lance turned back to his drink, pouring the green nectar down his throat, and slamming the glass down on the counter, adding to the small collection he amassed. Shifting in his seat, he turned to face the group, propping his head up on his fists and attempted to fight off the comfort of sleeps warm embrace.

 

[Johnny B3]

Al flicked around on his seat as soon as he heard the sound of someone entering the tavern. Odd he thought to himself everyone should be outside getting there fix of the promise. He looked at the man who entered and smiled. He waved at the captain and patted a seat next to him “Welcome esteemed captain, as you can tell my mission was successful.” Al grinned widely at that he then said “I’ll be honest I still thought this would be a typical ShinRa plot where they benefit better than everyone else. I was pleasantly mistaken.”

Al slammed his drink back, shot gunning it with gusto, he placed the empty glass back down on the bar and filled it up with a glass of Star C cola and sipped at it deciding he should keep himself in check, he then saw Lance drinking and he grinned even wider than before, “Hey, hey Lance, do you wanna play a drinking game with me? I’m thinking we play the 1 2 3 game, do you fancy it?”

Alistair’s’ attention was immediately diverted by Hails declaration he then debated what he wanted to get off his chest first he cleared his throat “Okay, okay, I have three things to say; First Hail I don’t trust you, second I don’t care what you get up and third I need to get my scythe back before we go any further and if anything happens to it I will purposely put myself into a blood rage and I will kill everything and everybody, do as much damage as I can effectively. That’s all I have to say really.” He watched Hail to gauge his reaction he knew their leader wouldn’t respond well to his last point, but he felt that it was best to get things off his chest; it was the way he worked.

He turned round and grabbed his drink he sipped it and smiled, knowing that he had stirred things up a bit. Alistair also looked at Lance to see if he was going to take Al up on his offer of a drinking game.

 

[Toru]

Tyche took a heavy breath, looking blankly at his bar mat whilst he continued to ponder the events of this evening. He tended to his cocktail with a few sips every now and then. Tyche took a quick glance to his left, and then to his right. No conversation to be had from his fellow mercs, it seemed. Lance was merrily slamming down shots of an odd mysterious concoction he'd seen at the bars of his favourite casinos. Favourite. Casino. Benza. Tyche quickly shook his head and took a long sip of his drink, almost finishing it. Whatever he was thinking of had struck a chord. He tried his best to hold his casual composure next to the two gents, but it was proving difficult. A good night's rest later on would help, he hoped.

Suddenly, he heard the doors of the pub swing open, and he was pretty sure who it was. He raised his eyebrows in satisfaction without turning around to face him - his guess was correct. Hail got the attention of Alistair and Lance. Tyche downed the last of his Drunken Moogle and half - listened, until his ears pricked up underneath his burgundy streams of hair.

“I am sure that you, monsieur gambler have quite the head full of curio regarding my task set forward to you earlier. I would like to elaborate on this matter as of the moment whilst my diversion persists – a diversion of good health to the masses.”

Monsieur Gambler. Monsieur Gambler. I have a fucking name - Route Tyche, you mentally sick freak.

...Is what he wanted to say, but he let it linger. He would be as compliant as humanly possible, he was certain of that. Tyche could have dealt with this name substitutes with ease if he hadn't have found out about Hail's little act of fun. Now Monsieur Gambler just felt like a sweet honeydew, tickling with the senses and flowing down the throat nicely - hidden behind it a deadly poison with no redeeming features except the will to kill, but you can't really call that a redeeming feature. Once again, the showman of a commander spoke.

“Well gentlemen, have you any queries to put to me before I begin? Assuming you accept, of course.”

Tyche let Alistair and Lance bring forth their opinions whilst the Knight urged the Dragoon to join him for a drinking game with his upbeat personality. Tyche swiveled around on his bar stool and gave a confident, honest smile on his face, and with an ice - cold timbre, replied to Hail.

"No sir, no curio at all. As soon as I'm rested, I'll be ready to face the audience."

 

[Atma]

Nodding professional acceptance to quite unprofessional behaviour from Lance, it was only a small matter when one considered that no conflict was to be had from at least one gentleman so far. As sky-blue eyes swept through varnished wood bar, the leader took in the statement of the second to put forth a response. This lunatic would conjured up a blood rage intentionally? Curse him for all he was supposed to be worth! What kind of wild card had ShinRa dealt him? A flicker of distaste in his features pre-empted the next statement, "I trust you will have the good mind not to issue undue threats in the future, Mr. Leyman. Despite the comfortable reaction of the others, I myself have no mind to deal with rogues--" Memories of past and pain surged through his mind with body physically recoiling. An image of blood on his hands, other SOLDIER about him, facing down fleeing rebels.

As the darkened image gripped quivering mind the leader tried to grasp the faces of the people he was pursuing, yet no sooner had it come did the flashback disentwine it's sinister tendrils from his mind and leap forth into the unreachable darkness of the subconscious. Hand over his pained right eye and leaning upon table for support as natural vision returned, Hail took black gloved hand away and gave a flick of his wrist with click of joint. "...A headache, I apologise." Came his shoddy excuse in a tone that would barely pass for minorly troubled as hand fell back 'neath cloak. The unerring stare of the gambler told him he had missed something. Mentally shrugging disregard for what felt to be a small detail, Hail pressed on. "There will be no unsolicited threats in this group and that is the end of it. We must work as a single entity or at least attempt to do so!" The sternness of his tone had recovered. "Indeed it would appear ShinRa are holding a genuinely peaceful movement, I put forward to you that one of the Peacekeepers showed willing to detain me as prisoner on pain of death earlier whilst in transit..." Raising a hand pre-emptively against reaction the anxious male continued. "... This may have been an isolated case, I since retaliated and our good companion Mr. Tyche here disposed of the body for me." Those altered eyes passed slowly over each of them as his next statement came, "I tell you this in good faith that ShinRa has leveraged us all into this and there is a shared will to survive whatever nefarious acts are in store for us."

Paranoia resurging, a glance through blinds indeed confirmed that many of the townspeople were now making their way back to their homes with their prize of life. Hail decided it might be best to voice his thoughts on the matter. "The people are moving, ShinRa Peacekeeping Force will be looking out for where we managed to disappear to soon as will the mayor's sons. I'll head back to the convoy as we all should." A slight sneer brushed through pale complexion as the pain of remembrance echoed from earlier, serving as due prompt for Hail to ease the door open just enough for himself to slip through with palm pressed over his pained eye. Just what was he struggling so vainly to recall from the recesses of his mind? The clack of his boots on the stone steps combined with the excited murmur lacing the atmosphere adequately removed him from the situation at hand, though the sounds of running water left him pensive on if perhaps he should have allowed them some extra time to finish their drinking game.

Shrugging off the thought to encourage social disconnection, Hail was quietly tending to the fastenings on the tarpaulins of the weapon trucks by the time the crowd had dispersed sufficiently to look for any one soul in particular, having weaved through the crowds with an ease learnt from the bustling society of Midgar in childhood escapades. The weapons are still here. Good. Came pleased thoughts. Giving his familiar blade a self-assuring pat that it was still there the clink of metal upon metal at his waist drew his attention to the firearm he had been issued. This thing ... A sign of myself as a ShinRa slave for the time being. But maybe they really have changed, does the fault lie within me? Combing over the brief combat in the driver's cabin an initial doubt did of course rise. No, they were still intending to hold him prisoner at gunpoint. It was justified. Giving one of the black straps over the tarpaulins a reassuring tug, Hail hauled himself into the driver's cabin and kicked the engine into life. As soon as they arrived, they could hit the road. "Pack it up, Golden Chocobo!" Came his order in authoritative tone before winding up those tinted windows.

Now it was simply a waiting game as the lackeys packed up the show and their mercantile troupe marched on to the next party, ready to perform the next grand opening of ShinRa's miracle.

 

[finite-infinity]

Lances eyes widened at the challenge presented by Al, and just as he reached over to help himself to the bottle and prepare the shots, the captain began his speech. Deciding not to continue with the little game, he listened intently, and watched Hail walk out the bar, wincing slightly as the door came to loud close upon his exit. Slowly turning to Al, Lance slapped his hand across Al’s shoulder, “I would like to accept your challenge, but considering our esteemed captains current state, I believe we should re-arrange this contest for another time,” ending with the usual grin and tapping his shoulder, Lance spun on one heel and began to make his way towards the door, “Can’t keep the captain waiting,” he thought. As Lance gripped the doorknob and opened the way for his exit, he quickly looked over his shoulder, “by the way, Al, don’t do anything rash. It’s good knowing we fight alongside each other, wouldn’t want to lose a man of your calibre,” turning and giving a gentle nod to Tyche, “l shall see you both momentarily.”

Closing the door behind him, the cool breeze hit Lance with a sobering slap. Making sure he had full balance and control over his legs, Lance began a light jog back the taker. Though the breeze was cool it was still generally refreshing and pleasant, and allowed Lance to recompose his earlier faltering thoughts. Skidding to halt at the side of the pickup, Lance retrieved the Otangue and propped it up against the side of the truck. Crouching on one knee, Lance slotted his fingers into the one notched lock and spun it around the sheaths counter clock-wise, the familiar gold-black haze reappearing as the spears dragged themselves from their single entity. When the full revolution was complete, the usual 8 sisters lay in the sheaths, gold emblazons dancing from one to the next. With a smile, he reattached the sheath-star to the clip on his back and hopped into the back of the truck, waiting for his companions to appear from the bar.

 

[Toru]

His mind being harassed with bad memories, Hail clenched his temple slightly, which Tyche warily eyed up. He continued to listen to his cloaked Captain, aware of how stressed he was whilst addressing him and the other Jacks. Then Hail said something quite shocking indeed.

"Indeed it would appear ShinRa are holding a genuinely peaceful movement, I put forward to you that one of the Peacekeepers showed willing to detain me as prisoner on pain of death earlier whilst in transit. This may have been an isolated case, I since retaliated and our good companion Mr. Tyche here disposed of the body for me."

Tyche tipped his head towards Hail, and leaned back onto the side of the bar table, murmuring so not as to disturb his Captain's brief.

"And may his poor, backstabbing soul forever rest in peace..."

So Tyche was wrong all along. Turns out ShinRa were here to do a lot more that peacekeeping. Apparently. Tyche was still very much unconvinced, but showed none of his doubt to his comrades. Besides, he could be lying. Maybe the now deceased Peacekeeper was deceiving Tyche, making the Casino - Dweller carry out the job for him. Despite all of this controversy he was assuming, Tyche decided he would go as he originally meant to go on - stick some crossbow bolts in some goons, and get paid; if anything else popped up, he would smash it down, be it ShinRa or an Ex - SOLDIER.

After retrieving his weapon and making himself comfy back on the convoy, Tyche made it his priority to get some decent sleep.

 

[Atma]

Breathing a sigh of resignation to the outbound trip a brief release of relief passed over the Captain as the others began to file and rank their way to the convoy. He found himself hoping they would resent him as little as possible in the shadow of such choice disruption of their drinking game, yet that was emotional attachment forming towards these complete strangers, it appeared the very action of trusting them had already provoked such a response. Shaking his head, the Ex-SOLDIER tugged hood of his cloak back up as if to shield himself from the growing investment within himself. As a message arrived to him on his mobile phone informing of preparations for departure being complete, the travel-clad male observed a display fixed to the dashboard lighting up with recognition lights. I see ShinRa did very well to salvage plenty from their collapse or at least sway others into doing so. I can only wonder how long it shall be before yet another rise of the corporate giant occurs.

An order to continue on as prompted by the probing glare of the mayoral family set the engines of the trucks and tankers spluttering into life before pressing on their way with Hail’s truck leading. Generally silent for the following trip, the chain of travellers pressed onwards easterly towards the marshes south of the chocobo farms kept out on the fields. This was all according to the plan Hail had set out, as various elements influencing this decision soon to be disclosed to his comrades would unveil. Easing to a stop to the south of the fields and the marshes in view but not yet close enough for foul smell to penetrate their senses, Hail disembarked and signalled for the rest of their caravan to halt. Clearing his voice, the Captain briefly caught glimpse of himself in reflection, the faint glow of his eyes in the setting sun yielding to rising darkness betraying his origin. No matter, some things cannot be prevented and this piece of information’s spread was simply one of those things. Throwing back his hood so as not to emulate the silly childhood stories of wide-hatted, blue robed wizards coming for disobedient children in the night the male cleared his throat before his declaration in elevated voice.

“We make camp here for the night. To travel this marsh and mountain by night is more perilous than it seems, and I have no prominent desire to lose our cargo to an unseen crumbling road or pathway…” Folding his arms to fix more stern gaze upon them all the leader resumed, “… With so many lives to be lost also. We are unwelcome within Kalm as displayed by their elected representatives where surely prying hands and eyes would reach where they should not and thusly the due guard would provoke undue conflict so early and close to Midgar—“ A brief hesitation flitted through his mind. “—Edge, even.” The brunette male had spent far too long elsewhere in the world if this easily offensive slip up was anything to judge by. “Besides, an entire convoy hauling into a humble chocobo farm would undoubtedly unbalance the situation even more so and prompt investigation. Set up camp and then do as you please! My only rule to enforce upon you is not to travel in groups of more than four or five.” Was his finishing note with some clear relief in him for it.
Turning back on the mass of bustling troops and his mercenary companions Captain Hail retrieved a small device that fit neatly into the hand from ‘neath the chair he had originally sat upon. Excellent, it was fully intact and untampered with. Concealing it within his cloak the decided director paced into the darkness in a north-westerly fashion, part-way back whence they came with nary a further word.

The troops however began removing their own concealing garbs to unveil mix of common and Peacekeeping Force uniforms, setting up jovial camp of tents, fires and drink with late night food beginning to boil.

 

[finite-infinity]

Lance nearly fell from his perch as the pick-up began to move. “Looks like I did doze off in the end.” Regaining his balance, Lance looked back to the now diminishing view of Kalm. Despite the distance he could quite easily still make out the stone gaze of the Mayor. This reminded Lance that he did not have any softs at hand. A problem that will have to be later remedied. As the convoy passed through the northern reaches of the Midgar Continent, Lance’s gaze took an interest to the very tip of the cliffs that rose up on the caravans left. What caught his eyes seemed to be movement, or some slight reflection of light. Giving his eyes time to focus he made out the silhouette of an old variant of one many mass produced machinations. The Custom Sweeper lay there rusting with the rest of its brothers, crumbling into the bombarded earth, a remnant of a battle long since lost. It was odd to see the gleam of light. Sure, the moon was on the way to becoming full, but there was no metal shiny enough across any of the broken abominations that would enable such a gleam to be emitted. “Maybe we are not alone,” Lance figured, doubled checking that at least one spear was in easy reach from his position.

As the trucks approached the marsh, Lance let out a sigh of relief. At least now they weren’t easily ambushed on one side, sure the group had the skill and the fire power to take on what would dare approach them, but it still left Lance’s mind at ease. After hearing Hails orders to the majority of the soldiers, Lance decided it would be a good idea to help the group to set up camp. Aiding with gathering firewood, and clearing sleeping areas, the manual labour helped to keep other thoughts from his head. Thoughts from the past. Thoughts about his family. Throughout the work, Lance ensured spirits were high among the soldiers, although made sure not to become too close. One more of these men may have to be disposed of by night’s end, who knew.

Once the camp was fully set, Lance looked around and made sure no-one was looking his way, taking the opportunity to slip away between the shadows. He had no specific reason to walk away, but the space would do him some good he thought. Once the camp became an orange haze in his vision, Lance folded his legs and sat on the dew-wet ground, removing the sheath-star from his back. Laying it down in front of him, a spear of thought crashed through his head. Fire. Destruction. Gunshots. Wincing with the sheer emotion that ran through him, Lance reached behind his back so his fingers could just grip the lock where the sheath usually rested, and twisted it ever so slightly. The front of the lock popped up and a small, warm sphere rolled out into his hand, a jade light covering the nearby area. Bringing his hand in front of him he stared at the heirloom, its glow turning his grey eyes green. Closing his eyes, Lance tried to remember the last thing his father had said to him...

He laid there, his body at Lance’s knees, choking, yet with his eyes wide, blood streaking his face and armour. Amidst the destruction, he managed to find the strength to thrust a green orb into Lance’s chest. “You maybe a little young yet, but there will be a time when you can use the power that hides within this. Now, I’ve gotta go. But remember this; my spirit will lay with you.” And with that he drew his last breath…

Gasping back into reality, Lance opened his eyes with and tried to regain his breath. His hair was matted with sweat and his eyes felt dry. Regaining a steady rhythm, Lance looked back to the sphere and admired the wisps that flowed beneath its shell. “Soon, I’ll be able to prove you right,” he whispered, tightly gripping the orb. Reaching back and returning it, he fixed the lock and returned the sheath to its housing. Drying his eyes, Lance began to bound towards the now fainter orange glow of the camp. It was time he returned.

 

[Johnny B3]

Al was lying down in the back of the flatbed truck he was on. His head was propped up on his towel and looked up at the sky. He whistled a short catchy tune to himself as he watched the clouds float by. “How nice it would be to be a cloud?” He asked himself rhetorically “To just float there without a care in the world letting life just push you along. I’ve got it I’ll become more like the and just let life happen to me.” Al cuddled his scythe as he watched the clouds.

Al thought back to the previous day and anger boiled with in him. “Wait, be like the cloud.” He said and let the anger wash over him and out of his system.

After making his declaration Al sat back down to listen to Hails order. Al wasn’t surprised by Hails reaction, it was to be expected after a declaration like that. Al was however annoyed that he wouldn’t let them have their drinking game.

After Hail left Al stood up and exited the bar. He made his way towards the tower with gusto, grace and tempo. Upon reaching the door to the tower Al kicked it off its hinges walked up to the top of the bell tower and picked up Hells Breach. He then propelled himself out the side of the bell tower onto a nearby roof “Thanks for the idea Lance. Travelling by rooftop is a much smarter idea.” He then made his way towards their encampment well truck stop and jumped down landing gracefully, like a cat. The scythe wielding man then walked toward one of the trucks and jumped in. “Reporting for duty Captain Hail, sir.” He shouted with mock formality he then sat down and pulled out a whet stone, he then proceeded to sharpen his scythe as he always did when he was angry.

Al looked at the blade on his scythe; it sent shivers down his spine, “Wow that’s sharp,” he grinned “So sharp I think I could cut myself by looking at it” he then out his thumb to the blade, slicing it open. “So sharp I didn’t even feel any pain, I must’ve been angry indeed.”

Upon reaching camp Al planted his scythe in the ground beside him he then pulled his pack out from the truck and started to set up a tent. The tent was a perfect pyramid with ventilation flaps at the top. The tent also had a small green flag on the top. Al smiled as he always did when looking at his tent. So cliché he thought to himself.

Al gathered material and started a fire with it. He took out a pot and emptied a can of soup into it “Yo, Hail Lance and Tyche fancy joining me for some soup?!” He shouted across the camp making sure that everyone could hear him. “If you do look for the tent with a flag on it.”

 

[Atma]

It was in the ending glow of the sunset, with shadows creeping across the horizon like spiny tendrils from broken rocks across the barren fields and unsure, dusty footing of the barren earth that formed the majority of the Midgar Area to which he so pursued from his current position on greener grass. As a plethora of thoughts paced through his mind as easily as he across the plains, memories danced through him. A light smile gracing his features, the Ex-SOLDIER let himself revel in the past for a few minutes longer for the sake of reminiscence as the sky-eyed man was prone to after his episodic bouts of pain.

Eventually, Hail banished such things and focused on his objective, he had lost pace and fallen behind his timings. By the time the robed male reached the broken earth of the Midgar Area, guided by the tracks in the dust, first starlight was upon him. Fixing the device into the ground the leader of the band adjusted it appropriately to analyse the soil as was instructed for a test run and left it to progress. Falling back to prop himself up on elbows, sky-blue eyes met clear, star-speckled skies and mind drifted once more into a land of possibilities and what-ifs. Thoughts of home rendered barren by conflict and of organisations in the past rising against the corporate entity that ruled over such a place, what good could they perhaps do if this band fought? No, he would have to see first what these people truly felt and what ShinRa's true motive would be. As other possibilities waltzed mockingly in troubled mind a digitally rendered tone cut through the thoughts and the trained psychology walked back into place, replacing the dancers.

Yanking the device from the ground as he rose up the swordsman reviewed the results. Well, the contraption certainly worked. Securing it back inside his cloak the dreamer jogged on back to the camp, hopefully he could make it back before much longer elapsed.

 

[finite-infinity]

Skidding to halt on the outside of camp, Lance steadied himself, slipping on the dew sodden ground. The warm glow of the fire could be felt even from the few meters away that he was. Hearing Al’s call, Lances stomach made a sudden noise of discomfort. “Well it has been a while since we last ate, need to keep the energy levels up,” he said to himself as he began to run towards the flagged tent.

Growing anxious to eat, Lance slipped as he approached the tent, sliding on his side right past the wide opening in the canvas. Regaining his composure, he poked his head around the side of tent. It was a deceptively large living space given the looks from the outside. Looking around he noticed one of 3 small bowls of soup steaming at one side of the small fire. Grinning, Lance sat down and began to quell the ravenous dragon that was roaring inside his gut.

 

[Atma]

In his jog back it became apparent the gambler had eventually yielded to social conformity after securing his own belongings in a separate tent. Witnessing the three of them eating together amidst the sprawling camp brought a sense of security to Hail in regards to his mission. Raven however, that one was nowhere to be seen. "My belongings..." He muttered to no-one in particular. Striding across the field’s edge the anxious mercenary discovered the truck he had chosen to deposit a duffel bag on belongings within carry along with him had been unlocked since departure.

As the tension knotted in his chest like steel wires wrung tight he deftly flung the door open and set upon the tan bag immediately, yanking it open only to discover no evidence of probing or enquiry. Letting go of a breath he was unaware was held, Hail closed black gloved hands over a stained oak picture frame. His stern expression eased briefly at the image kept protected behind the glass, yet as soon as he tilted it to brush away dirt and caught his reflection it was rammed back into the bag and his face once more unsurrenderingly resistant to any inquisition.

From behind him the gravely smug voice of Raven arose, eyeing him from ‘neath his own black counterpart cloak. “I see you still hold onto us after all, Mister La-““I hold onto nothing.” Hail scythed across his comment, turning to meet those eyes with his own mako-augmented glare. Only a smile and exaggeratedly pitying shrug rose from the suspicious swordsman. “That picture says something different, as does Mr ShinRa.” Scowling, Hail reached into his pocket and firmly clenched the radiant pink orb within for some semblance of balance in himself before making a further retort. “It is not your place to evaluate my past, whilst we are in this mercenary band you are to obey my commands.” The opposing verbal duellist adjusted his black concealment before luring him further forth. “I’m afraid it is my place, Mister Leader. After all we don’t want to repeat what happened in your little trip to Nibelheim, do we…?” That lingering statement prompted nothing from Hail beyond confusion, clear in his expression. “I have never been to Nibelheim.” Retorted the Ex-SOLDIER, earning a further guffaw from Raven. About to inquire, a smattering of gunfire and a scream rose from the far side of the camp, close to the marsh. No sooner had Hail turned away and looked back had Raven vanished entirely.

Yet, by the time anybody would reach the opposite side of the camp, only a savaged ShinRa PCF soldier would be found with another dead against the nearest tent, skin as white as a sheet with an inflamed cut across his torso.

 

[Atma]

In the ten minutes it took to cross the camp the situation worsened. As several guards neared, the rest securing the perimeter facing the fields the swamp stirred. The smell of freshly gored victims began to cling to the air, their splattered blood like a hazardous crimson crescent marking territory in the very lives of victims. Yet still the surface of the marshes erred and quivered, nothing less than ripples trembling out across the surface to meet drier land where the stalwart soldiers remained.

As Hail sprinted towards the casualties time seemed to freeze for a moment as the adrenaline coursed through his being, his veins set afire in alert of what was surely to come. Only monsters roamed this area, they must be inside the camp. Gunshots sounded about the perimeter, the smattering of rifle fire and bolt-action shot alike with all voice raised to a furore of battle. "Crawlers!" One young voice cried out from the midst of the blue and grey tents only to answered by the hissing of the foes. "Castanets!" Wailed another. Angling himself to the side and planting foot firmly in ground with a marsh-water splash Hail swung his blade from his back with a smooth sweeping motion, teeth gritted in disgust at his misjudgement in camping so close to the swamp. Sword held horizontally in one hand for defensive movement the situation came to him in clarity; the lives of these people around him were the most important thing to preserve right now. The threat must be dealt with. "Equip your materia!" The Captain bellowed across the camp to his mercenaries, free hand pressing the radiant pink orb against the surface of his blade and assuming that his comrades had the good sense to save at least some of the others along with their own hides.

The sensation of equipping materia was unusual after so much disuse. The glass-like cold seizing the night surrendering to a warm heat turning molten then receding again as the magic in the sphere melded with your flesh and blood, slotting neatly into the centre of the blade and the glow strengthening. A brief glance to the five SPF at his right as he settled into stance with gun barrels pointed at the swamp was all his support-class materia needed to activate, a thin silvery thread of ethereal light stemming from his torso to the weakest of them before fading. From this poorest-lit part of the camp the lanterns scattered about the camp cast shadows of the men and monsters fighting amongst the close intersections between tents and vehicles- The cargo! The lives of everyone here was forfeit if it was not saved and many more left dead. Pacing through his mind with what to do, from behind all thought were shattered by a sinister crash of water and a great shrouding hiss the situation grew that much worse.

Turning swiftly to meet the eyes of his foe Hail was rendered near speechless by the thirty-foot monstrosity of slick grey serpent that towered before him. Closing mouth agape at the stench and sight the leader called out all he could, his phone active to transmit locally with walkie-talkie function. "Break into three squads! Secure the vehicles, clear the camp and help me take down this hulking bastard!" A general affirmative cry came in response which prompted the massive serpent to lash great hooded head down towards them, leader and subordinate SPF scattering to it's flanks as great red-rimmed yellow underbelly pulverised a tent pitched haphazardly close.

Taking the opportunity provoked, the SPF opened machine gun fire into the sides of the creature whilst Hail took a chance slash, scoring slimed, scaly hide barely deep enough to draw any blood at all. Yielding an order and waving with green-splattered blade the sky-eyed man and the five who had remained with him darted down flanks, two with him and three on the opposite in the hopes of drawing it just far enough away from the camp that it might be cleared. With great lash of mighty tail the creature eliminated two more tents with tail half settling amongst the detritus of the swamp and half coiling through the damaged rim of the camp, unrefined mako-green iris set against black sclera fixing down on the fleeing assailants casting loud splashes in it's home hunting ground. The Zolom wished to feed...

OOC: Please factor in that if you perform one action that will soak up time and thus you'll be a little late for another order.

 

[finite-infinity]

The screams that roared through the canvass hit Lance’s ears with a ferocious pitch, making him drop his soup with a surprisingly audible clatter. A beep erupted from his right arm quickly followed by the string of orders that Hail had given. “I’ve got the cargo, I’ll assist with the Zolom as soon as I have finished securing it,” Lance replied into his shoulder.

Lance skidded out the tent, the smell of gunshot already thick in the air. “The tankers on the other side of the camp, better keep to the air if I’m not gonna get hit with stray bullets.” Taking 3 long strides, Lance took off into the smoke filled air, the tanker clearly visible as soon as he cleared the top of the tent. The glint of the taker also revealed the glint of scales and shell, 6 marks, 4 blue, 2 purple, bearing down on 4 soldiers. “Typical, the ones who guard the objective have the least experience, time to even the odds.” Withdrawing two Orochi’s, Lance pierced through 2 Crawlers on impact embedding the spears into the ground, the serpents nearly exploding due to the sheer force. Looking to the remaining 4 monsters, Lance shouted to the 4 quivering ‘men’ behind him, “Either find your wits and regroup with the others, or get to safety. The last thing we need are people getting in the way.” Returning his attention to the monsters, he noticed one of the Crawlers preparing to lunge its streamlined body straight at him. Quickly side-stepping the attack, Lance gripped the snake’s tail mid-flight and slammed it into the ground, the breaking of several of its thin bones easily heard. A hiss of disgust came from its brother, the Crawler backing away slowly. “Don’t worry, you’ll be joining him soon enough.” Grabbing one of the ground-locked spears, Lance made a slight pounce towards the first Castanet, the spear reluctantly tearing itself from the ground. Spinning the spear so he held it just below the head, Lance landed and smashed the Castanet with shaft of the spear, its shell like body cracking, several shards exploding from the bloodied body. Quickly raising the spear, he stabbed the head through the second Castanet on Lances left flank, the tough exterior giving less resistance than Lance though it would have, the spear piercing as easily it would through a thin sheet of metal. Sliding his hands to the very end of the shaft, he then twisted on the spot swinging the spear in a wide horizontal arc, a thin spray of blood jetting from the last Crawler, as it slowly slid into two pieces. Retrieving the remaining grounded spear, Lance put the crippled Crawler out of its misery, its anguished hissing coming to halt as the spear head pierced through its head. Sheathing the spears, the head of the Zolom came into sight. "Gotta get moving, they're not having all the fun," Lance laughed.

Lance sprinted towards the huge serpent the destruction it had caused to the camp surrounded , Hail’s cloaked figure dwarfed by the huge mass that was the Zolom. About 100 meters before reaching the snake, Lance twisted the lock in the sheath and withdrew the green heirloom. Closing the lock, he then pushed the materia into the slot in his belt, the metal clasps gripping the materia, several clicks confirming it was held secure. Skidding to Hails side, Lance rejoined the group. "The cargo's secure. Despatched any hostiles in the area." Staring up at the hooded snake, Lance could tell it did not take well to the new addition to its opposition. “I’ll see you on the other side, Cap'n."

Flanking the Zolom, Lance gripped the top spear and rotated the locks a quarter turn, "4 down." Keeping an eye on the snakes tail, he approached the rear of the serpent, rotating the bottom spear a quarter turn, "and that’s 8, now you'll get to face battle." Unsheathing the Otangue, Lance drove the barbed head into the snakes thick flesh. This time resistance caught him off guard, Lance almost driving himself into the second head. Pulling the spear head out of the Zolom, Lance back stepped to clear himself of any immediate attacks. "Let's hope magic has a greater impact." Lance focused on the cast, a tingling sensation reaching the tips of his fingers. Spinning the Otangue, he pointed the spear straight at the hulking snake, releasing the energy that built up. A faint crackling could be heard before a single thunderbolt struck the snake. "Yes! Finally, I'm powerful enough!" Ensuring that this opportunity wasn't wasted, Lance prepped for a single jump attack, the air around him beginning to shimmer as he completely bent his knees. Launching himself skyward, he rolled forward at the peak of the jump and readied the spear for the attack. Letting gravity take hold, he plummeted towards the Zolom, a blue haze beginning to form around the spear head as it pierced forward. The explosion nearly caught Lance off guard as the tip struck the scales. Driving the spear through the Zoloms thick flesh, Lance kicked off from the Zolom, pulling the spear out and back flipping away from the monstrosity. A faint splash arose upon the landing, happy with the damage, Lance waited for the inevitable counter-attack.

OOC:Autohit Permitted.

 

[Toru]

Tyche peered out from his comfortable position in the towering convoy under the starry night sky, and looked up at the cosmos above.

"A beautiful sight, if ever I've seen one. Truly. Here's to you, night sky."

Today had sure been busy, and the calming atmosphere of the camp below him up on his sniping post with the silence of the night - soaked Midgar Marshes was enough for him to stay calm. Tyche was now definite about carrying out this mission, and he'd help in anyway possible. For now, he'd keep watch for anything crawling in the distance. Tyche stood up straight, and readied his trusty crossbow. Not many people knew, but it went by the name of 7. It wasn't really his lucky number, it was just blessed. The 7 Gods of Luck looked over him and his weapon, which was fortunate enough for him. If he kept his wits about him, held a good aim and faced fate with a courageous stand, Lady Luck would keep him running smooth. Hopefully. As he began to look up, his ears picked up upon hearing Al's friendly voice.

"Soup, you're saying!? Well sir, I can't say no to that!"

So much for guarding the camp, hmh? It didn't matter anyways. For the first few minutes of scouting, nothing seemed to be approaching anyways. As he sat with his allies over a bowl of broth, he engaged in friendly conversation, idle chit - chat, the like.

Until he heard the call to arms. A scream, a gunshot or two, and Tyche dropped his soup and slipped out of the tent in a second, quickly scanning the situation.

Showtime.

With a crossbow, range was never an issue. Tyche showed this clearly to his ShinRa buddies as he sprinted to a culmination of soldiers, quickly loading bolts and firing off 4 rounds in 1.5 seconds precisely, each of them landing sharply in the enemies a few feet ahead. One Crawler took a fatal critical blow, and the others were now weak enough to be cleaned up. A hiss alerted his attention, as he leapt over the swarm of monsters and warriors to meet Hail and Lance, who were readying themselves to face the immense slithering beast. He met in the middle of them. He looked left, and looked right, before a grin curled onto his face.

“So, we rocking Materia are we? Well, it’s about damn time we had some action.”

Tyche withdrew a small, Yellow support Materia, and tossed it up an down in his hand, before slamming it into the groove on the top of his gloved right hand. His hand glowed with the same Yellow energy the mako – charged stone contained.

“Enemy Skill… ready. Now, let’s ride.”

Tyche brought his grip on 7 to just his right hand – he aimed the crossbow up high, the end glowing as the Materia on his glove took effect. He took aim at the Zolom, a shrill noise of power gathering in the crossbow.

“Try this on for size, fella.”

A simple bolt from his crossbow coated in energy pierced the skin of the snake, before a bright light rained down on the skies – it seemed powerful enough to take the Zolom down! The light erupted onto the 30 foot beast and… had no effect whatsoever. Spitting on the floor, he grunted.

“Darn it all, why did I even learn that skill? Never freakin’ works. Well, let’s see what you’re made of, snakey! Hit me with your best!”