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CalibansEnthusiast

Author, Fatebreaker
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. Multiple posts per week
  3. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Where is this? Michael wondered, for the millionth time, as the aircraft slowed and began its descent. The picture had been with him forever, and it offered no meaning or explanation: Just a simple, snow covered farm. He had tried everything to identify the location, the type of tree, the building style, even stellar references. All in a futile quest to find out where this farm was, and why he had a picture of it.

He glanced out the window and stared aimlessly out at the Emerald Forest for a moment, wondering what threats waiting just below the leafy canopy, Grimm, White Fang, it did not matter. There was something out there, and it wanted him dead. Something that might get the drop on him... Was the landing area even safe? He wondered. Paranoia kept him alive, but it did not keep him warm at night. His best defense lay only six inches from him. ALISS was set against the wall, the barrel pointed towards the roof and sky beyond. It would probably punch through the thin skin of the airship, but the railgun was not designed for close quarters combat. Michael listened to the conversations and buzzing of humans and fanus around him, but he was uninterested in the content. Most of the world’s facets were mysteries to him. You want to assault a building or take down a Grimm? No problem, I can help with that. You want to talk about Grifball or movies? Forget it, no way no how.
 
Mizuki had her Trident strapped to her back, leaning against it in what would be rather uncomfortably for most people. To her this was comforting. So was the large amounts of chocolate bars that she had within her bag, which was neatly over her shoulder. Chewing on one of her bars, she slowly scanned the room she was in. The weapon designs that she saw ranged from highly intricate to downright useless. How did the academy let in people with such weak weapon designs? Of course, she may just be thinking too much about them and in the grand scheme of things weapon designs aren't the only things that influences how someone gets accepted into the school.

She turned and looked out one of the windows and shuffled her belt a bit on her hips. The weapon she used was secured on the back of her belt using a magnet system that she created. Was it convenient? Quite. No need to collapse her weapon into a smaller form in order to carry it with her and certainly no need to set it back up to be a usable weapon again. Just pull it and attack. Seeing the vehicle descending meant she may have to use it soon and she couldn't wait to use it again.
 
Rusty looked around the section of airship he was in. People and faunas alike seemed so excited and happy. Rusty had no such luck. He was slouched against a wall as far from the windows as possible, trying not to hurl. Grimm? No problem. Wild animals? No problem. But heights? Heights was his weakness.

Hopefully, the airship would land soon. He could feel every bump of turbulence. Each one edged him closer and closer to throwing up. He tried not to think about it. Think happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.... No! Don't think about all your dead friends! Think about the first deer you killed. Mmmm it tasted so good. He clutched his weapon as he waited to land. Hopefully, the initiation didn't require any flying. Like, being thrown into the air by a platform with a spring under it. That would suck.
 
Huddled up against one of the front edges of the Airship was Carmine. The girl had found herself curled up and fast asleep. On her hands were a set of claws. The claws themselves looking non-threatening to say the least. But, oddly enough she was able to sleep ontop, against and all over them without seeming to cut herself on the clawed ends. Turning over suddenly everything she covered herself with spilled down and startled a group standing near her. She sat up without opening her eyes to feel around. She felt the floor of the airship and opened her eyes. Gazing around the people she scared stared back at her. Most of them seeming to be focused on her eyes. She blinked once before scowling "Problem?" She asked when she traced their eyes back with direct eye contact.

The people shook their head making Carmine giggle "Wonderful... im just.. grumpy when I wake up from a very warm slumber" She went on to say. The people just nodded their heads before turning around once more. Now awake Carmine brushed herself off and stood up. Not caring where she was she began to stretch to loosen her body up after sleeping like a corpse. She turned her head to see the same group looking at her "Hey, I've been told I am cute but please... stop staring at me.. its making me feel weird...." She mumbled again knowing why they were looking at her. She saw them fumbling with something and shook her head "I.. I dont want to sign anything." She said before they had a chance to even attempt asking her for an autograph. "I just want to be a regular girl... for once.." She said with a groan.
 
Slowly, the landing stage came into view, and it made him feel better that he would be off the craft, in control of his own fate again, instead of it being in the hands of unknown pilots. Anticipating the landing, he shouldered a duffle bag and stood, then grabbed his rifle to check it. Fully powered, fully loaded, safety off. He slung the long gun over his other shoulder, keeping a hand on the grip just in case he needed it.

He made his way towards the front, the long barrel of ALISS bumping against a bulkhead as he passed through one. He took the Gauss rifle off his shoulder and sat near the door, knowing he would have to carry it out horizontally. He saw a rather strange looking girl begging off attention further up, but ignored it, instead focusing on fine adjustments to the scope.
 
Frantically, Mizuki had reached down and grabbed her pad, scribbling notes and sketching ideas into it. She heard the commotion a bit ahead but ignored it as she refused to let good ideas go to waste. Could you make a giant flail that doubled as a bazooka? Possibly! So lets write that idea down. Claws that harnessed shotgun shells? Something always needed to be written down. She glanced up quickly to take note of the observable weaponry in the room. So far, none of it matched the majority of what had been written or dreamed up by her. She could only stick to her most original works. Doing something that had already been done before just didn't sit well with her, unless it boasted something that set it out as unique or superior.
 
As they drew closer to landing Rusty made his way to the front. He could see the ground now so that was nice. He tripped over a hatch and knocked over a guy with what looked like a sniper rifle. Rusty caught himself by grabbing the overhead. "Sorry, mate. I don't have much balance up here." He lent a hand to help him up.

(Sorry for short post.)
 
Finally having dealt with the people trying to get her to sign things Carmine turned at the noise of someone hitting the ground. Infact, it wasn't just one person but two. The scene to say the least was abit funny. The kid with the rifle looked like the type to turn and either push or punch the other kid. Oh, the possibilities were tantilizing to say the least. But, she kept herself out of it even if she wanted to go over and comment on it. It wouldn't be bitchy comment but a joke about it all. The main reason going through her head on not to do it was... the attention it may or may not draw. She wanted to remain as a ghost for as long as possible. To enjoy just being normal for a short period of time before it picked up once more.

Then again, it was a school so hopefully most people just didn't care. That would be the best possible outcome and she hoped that people just wouldn't care at all. But, it never was that easy.. especially when it came to noticing her. The eyes themselves would give her away immediately.. it was always the eyes. Regardless she felt the ship shift and looked out a nearby window. The airship was descending and she could see things much more clear now. She knew that soon she would be stepping out of this infernal machine... as much as she loved flying.. it was just to cold in the air for her taste.
 
He had loosened the screws just enough to make minute adjustments, but the sudden impact changed all of that. ALISS's scope was a very percisely machined scope, much more so than the average scope. While the largest Dust-propelled weapon he knew of could place a bullet in a target up to three miles downrange, given favorable conditions, ALISS was differant. The railgun gave a much higher power output, and his muzzle velocity was something on the order of nine miles a second. Given good conditions, he could hit a target up to thirty miles away, and that required something more than a series of fine tuned lenses. A laser, a small ballistic computer, all built in, all incredibly sensitive.

All damaged.

These thoughts reached his head as he crashed to the deck, a flare of anger pulsing through him. Anger demanded he put the barrel of the railgun in the larger individuals chest and pull the trigger. His inferior armor-There likely wasn't a man-portable armor system that would deflect a shot from ALISS on the market-would offer no protection as the projectile pubched through the skin, depressurizing the cabin, and rocketed into the atmosphere.

However, caution stayed his hand. He needed to fix his weapon, and that was more of a concern. He ignored the brute and stood, gathering the overlong rifle and waiting to land. He hoped Beacon had a shooting range sufficent to his range needs.
 
Rusty saw that the guy dropped his weapon. "Aw, fuck. I'm Sorry. That looks delicate. Clumsy me, hehe." Rusty moved a little farther from the guy because he looked quite angry. He stared at the weapon. "I'm guessing that scope is Atlas tooled? They're the only ones I know of with the tech to do it. What's you're range, 3-4 miles?" Rusty was attempting to be polite. He didn't like being on another persons bad side. Especially with the possibly that this person could become a teammate.
 
"Right now, my effective range is what I can see," he said icily. While his scope was manfacured in Atlas, it was not a sniper weapon. It was used for long range, direct fire artillary. He reconfigured the settings to match the railguns increased power. He felt the aircraft touch down, and the hatch had barely opened when he stepped out without a further word. He needed a flat surface in which to work. He spotted a bench near the landing stage and promptly claimed it. While most of the students looked around at the scenery, Michael devoted all of his attention on the weapon that got him here.
 
Mizuki had witnessed what happened from a slight distance. She could thing that things could boil over any moment even with the nature of the accident. A little paranoid of an unnecessary fight she slowly walked forward, her bright red hair swaying a bit behind her.

As she reached the two she bent down a little and saw the damages. She tapped her finger on her lips a moment in thought before finally speaking out. "Hey, I can help you fix this quickly if you need to. Here, I design and build Dust based weaponry as a hobby and I don't play around." She showed him a few designs in her large sketch book to show him that she really knew what she meant. They ranged from small hand sized weapons to large Dust cannons that could blow an airship out of the sky without leaving anything larger than an apple left.
 
Feeling the airship touch down Carmine immediately began to make a move for the door. Her thin frame made it easy for her to slip around people. She snaked her way through the mass of new students leaving the airship and came out on the other end. Now out of the cramped confines of the airship she looked up and gazed at the buildings. She took it all in before simply shrugging and beginng to make her way towards several benches. She felt like a large mass of energy and she knew that a blow out was coming. If she didn't calm down she could light something nearby on fire out of sheer excitement.

As she sat down she put her hands on her face and took a deep breath. She was well rested, excited and over zealous to say the least. For a girl already a ball of energy, it was a horrific addition. She ws crazy to begin with, but with her mood... she would end up being hyperactive. She just stared at the ground and she slunched over slightly. Suddenly sitting up her hair whipped around before she turned to lay down on the bench. She looked up at the sky and yawned. It was a beautiful day to begin something that she hoped would end up being more than just beautiful.
 
"Except this isn't a Dust weapon," Michael replied. These people had no real reason to care, they were not dependent on him, he was not dependent on them. Had one of their weapons broke, he would not care. It was his, and his problem. He walked briskly through the crowd, quickly deviating to get awyay from it. He found himself near the edge, and crouched by an unoccupied bench. He set ALISS on it, and went to work on his sight.

After a few minutes of tinkering, he pointed it towards the forest. He found a suitible target, and aimed for it. He stared down the scope, making minute adjustments for the rotation of the planet, controlled his breathing. Then pulled the trigger. It was nearly silent, an electrical crackle, a whoosh, and a blue vapor trail marking the sky where the bullet passed. He growled, seeing the results. The scope was off by nearly three feet.
 
Rusty rushed out of the ship with glee, no longer concerning himself with the marksman. He was no longer stuck in a giant flying coffin. He took in the air. Right in front of him stood the spires of Beacon. This was the beginning of a new chapter for him.

He was so excited he just had to let a few rounds loose. He pressed his elbow against the bottom of his packpack and it began to transform. Small peices moved around to form a large red box on his right shoulder. Two large cylinders jutted from the front of it. One atop the other. He reached up and pulled a handle back. The weapon pointed up at the sky and fired. BANGBANGBANG. Five glowing tracers flew up into the air and exloded. The spent casings bounced on the ground. "YES! The weapon began to shrink bank into his backpack.
 
She watched him walk off, tilting her head a bit. "Oh well."

Mizuki walked off the ship, simply humming to herself as she continued to observe other peoples weapons. She continued to admire some and chuckle at others. Simply being around weapons and Dust just seemed to make her happy and energize her. Thats what she loves probably more than most people in life. A well build weapon is like a relationship, dependable, loyal, sturdy and sexy.

She didn't walk too far from the ship yet, as she was eying some of the weapons that accompanied what seemed to be some of the older and more experienced students. She squeed a bit seeing the difference in those of the experienced hunters and huntresses in training.
 
The sudden burst of weapon fire jerked him off the scope to face the crowd, his eyes searching intently for the threat. However, when the shells exploded mid-air, he relaxed. Someone probably needed to let off some steam... in a way that annoyed the hell out of him.

He returned to his careful modifications, taking a test shot at the end of each such movement. He heard an announcement that all students were supposed to gather inside for a welcome from the headmaster, which would proceed an orientation session. He figured he had a couple more minutes. After his fifth shot, he had the scope dialed back in, and had to replace the battery and reload. Such things could be done inside.

Michael packed up his tools and slung his weapon again. This time staying as far from others as possible. He contemplated using his Semblence, and simply become a ghost, but he refrained. Only if someone started talking to him, and he did not feel the need to respond would he use that ability to escape.
 
Everything seemed to explode into a flurry of noises for a split second. She didn't know what was going on and it was slightly off putting. As much as she didn't mind louse noises considering that she was always surrounded by music it was still a loud set of noises. She didn't bother sticking around for to long with all those flowing out of the transport. She immediately left the place where she was relaxing and made for the academy itself. She just wanted to get it started after all. She knew her weapons worked perfectly. They may not be fancy looking but their design lay more in the cutting blades than in the appearence. Luckily, the basic appearence often made people unaware of the threat that lurks within.

Hopefully no one would have to see what exactly her weapons could turn into. After all, they always stayed in the same basic shape.. never leaving her hands. But, she thought that was the beauty of it. After all, after using them for so long.. they feel like your real hands and you can do everything with them on as if they weren't on. Continuing on she fumbled around in her jacket and took out a pair of wireless earbuds. Putting them in her ears she began to listen to music as she took into a light jog. For her, movement was everything. She knew that if she ever slowed down it would be when she was dead... it was a horrible reality but that was how she lived her life. Adrenalin, music and sheer speed. For her, speed and movement were how she stayed alive. Unpredictable movements made her who she was in every way, personality and all.
 
Michael found a quiet spot near a pillar in the room as it darkened. While his eyes adjusted to the darkness, a gray-haired man took the stage ahead of the crowd. He looked like he had come from a meeting, coffee cup in hand, and his tone sounded... off. But that was to him, and he was not the most canny of social observers. While the speech was nice, it was also cryptic.

He found himself looking around at the mention of teams. Since there seemed to be no way around that, he found himself wondering who he would be stuck with. Hopefully, they would not be dependent on him to fit in. Let him range off, and do what he had gotten into Beacon for.
 
Mizuki paid close attention. She recognized him and had seen him a few times before in person. Things seemed different this year, as apposed to previous speeches that she had heard before. His voice seemed to carry a tired tone and perhaps one that was more serious than normal. To Mizuki, she thought that perhaps it was political pressure among the different cities that could be bothering him. But it could also be the increase in Grimm activity.

Mizuki got up and started to look around to see where the first years were supposed to gather, supposing that they were getting ready to start building teams or be tested on how well they fought. She knew that they always did this sort of thing at the beginning with new people. Build teams that would be together though the rest of the time at the Academy.
 
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