Fandom Phantasmal Armor Gundam

[GasMaskie]

"...r. Ber..."

The young man stirred slightly in the seat, before slowly forcing himself to awaken. He rubbed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft yawn as he looked around to try and get his bearings once more. Velvet lining and leather seats made it abundantly clear that he was in an autocarriage - and sitting opposite was a woman with glasses. His eyes flitted towards the windows, catching a glimpse of the passing oceanic scenery as their vehicle continued on its way.

"...Ah, apologies. I've been preparing up until the last minute, sleep has not come easily to me." As his senses began to return to him, he recalled poring over the dossiers he had received just a week prior.

"I see. We should be arriving at Lismell within the hour. The prospective mercenaries should have already gathered there - along with their Phantasmal Armors. The ship is also prepared for an immediate departure." From her formal clothing to her mannerisms, the woman was clearly a high-caliber professional. The emblem on her suit distinguished her as under the Shahyrar family's employ - and she had served as the young man's contact for a majority of the proceedings.

"Excellent, thank you. Then I suppose that he's already... Ah, nevermind. I suppose once introductions are out of the way, we can proceed towards the first assignment." His hand moved to his cane, gripping it tightly as the autocarriage neared the port town. While he had been the final say on which pilots would be hired, he wasn't entirely sure just how many would ultimately show up. At the very least, he could surely count on one of them to arrive.

***
​

The town of Lismell is a large city located on the eastern side of Raruna Island. It is also the powerbase of the Shahyrar family, who hold contracts with many of the merchant ships that come in with exotic goods ready to be distributed throughout Lacroa. The bright blue sky was filled with the mewls of seagulls as they flew across the sky. The inhabitants of Lismell, of all shapes and colors, kept the main street busy as they moved from the stall to stall.

The man took a deep breath of the salty sea air before biting into the freshly baked bread he had purchased. Its taste was nostalgic - the bakery was run by a family originally from the Kingdom of Lacille. Though delicious, he couldn't help but taste a slight bitterness mixed in. He gazed up towards the sun hanging in the sky with a smile before continuing down towards the city's large ports.

How long had it been since he had actually met with him? He had exchanged quite a few letters recently regarding his new position, but actually meeting face to face? It had to have been while he was still a knight for the kingdom, and even then a brief meeting. The ex-knight's hand moved towards his sheathed sword as he stepped out into the open space of Port Lismell. His eyes fell upon one of the city's few autocarriages as it pulled into the area and came to a stop. And right on cue, two individuals stepped out.

Alfried smiled as he approached. As the young man carefully steadied himself on the ground, his face lit up as well when the golden-haired man came into view. He still looked just as small as ever - or perhaps that was simply his image dyeing his perspective. The man frowned momentarily as his eyes fell upon the cane and leg brace his acquaintance wore.

"Brot- Erm, Alfried. It's good to finally see you again. And, I can see that you're the first one here - and hopefully not the only one." A light, sheepish chuckle accompanied his words as he seemed to ponder just how he'd proceed with the greeting. The Lacillan decided for him, pulling him into a tight hug before stepping back.

"Reyn, it really has been too long. I'm glad to see that you're doing well for yourself - never thought you'd end up starting up a mercenary outfit for the Shahyrar family of all people. Honestly, you'll need to tell me just how that came to be at some point." The knight glanced briefly towards the ships anchored at port - one of them would be the company's main vessel and their home. The life of a mercenary was one fraught with danger, but travelling across the world was certainly a benefit.

"A-Aye. But, I suppose we should wait for the others to arrive - if they do. Miss Sherza, could you please board the ship and inform the others to prepare to depart? I'll be with you shortly once I greet our new forces." With a bow, the woman turned on a heel and strode towards a large ship in the distance. Alfried finished the warm bun as he found a nice pile of crates just lying out in the open. The tactician took a seat on one as he leaned up against them, ready to see what sort of people he'd be fighting with in the future.

And so, it begins.
QuirkyAngel The One Eyed Bandit simj26 waifu Dragonruby Castello ERode YsFanatic Lucem

 

[YsFanatic]

Before long a trailer for transporting Phantasmal Armor would lumber into view, pulled along by a powerful autocarriage. On top of the trailer is the massive blue frame of the PA known to arena fans as Brutal Giant, its greatsword mounted on a rack next to the Armor itself. The newness of the machine would be evident by the mostly intact paint and the lack of any major dents or other signs of damage to the smooth armor plating. On top of the PA itself sat its pilot, the man intently surveying the dock for any signs of the person he was supposed to meet. Upon spotting Alfried he gave the younger man a hearty wave before signaling for the stop of the autocarriage.

Quickly climbing down from his Phantasmal Armor, Renard then casually walked over to what believed was supposed to be his new leader. "This is the meeting area for the new mercenary unit, correct? I'm Renard."

 

[ERode]

For all its weight and designation as a defense-orientated Phantasmal Armor, Jagred’s Leiru was still surprisingly compact compared to bulkier frames: the two shields that it wielded had been slotted onto its back, while its legs were thin enough to allow it to maneuver through the outskirts of Lismell without knocking over someone’s carriage or crushing someone’s garden. An autocarriage would have made the trip to the plaza simpler, but it also would have cost money, like everything else, and Jagred didn’t have money to spend. Being a mercenary may have been profitable if you were famous, but his beat-up Armor didn’t attract any high rollers, and his supportive role meant he’d be getting short-changed regardless.

Not that he minded, really. Jagred wasn’t sure what he’d do with money if he had more than what was required to feed himself and pay for repairs and lodging. Drink it away? Spend it on women? Try his luck at the casino? Squirrel it away as a rainy day fund? As he carefully shuffled towards his destination, the red-headed man wondered, one hand fiddling with the triangular ornament hanging from his neck. The Shahyrar family, and the Southern Seas Merchant Alliance. Two weeks ago, someone had approached him in a rundown Al’faedan frontier town, offering him a proper job, one that may promise a salary if he worked well. Referred to him by a previous employer, was the answer that agent had given, and though Jagred may have been skeptical, he couldn’t afford to be. A chance to do more than scrape by, and a chance to do something for his homeland? Place of birth? Whitewashed walls and clay rooftiles abound, the construction of more buildings sounding everywhere in the busy port city. It should have been familiar, but he felt nothing.

Leiru lurched one final step before stopping; Jagred was close enough to the meeting place that he could see the others now and, parking his PA somewhere not too intrusive, he dropped out of the carpet, landed a metallic hand, then bounced down onto the ground. He had spent the last night sleeping in his PA and hadn’t gone outside till now. The air, salty as it was, tasted absolutely delicious, and was hopefully sharp enough that none of his future employers would notice the smell of his clothing too.

Reaching the small group, the red-haired man touched two fingers to his brow, before placing them atop his heart, a traditional Al’faedan show of respect. “Jagred," he spoke as introduction, clasping his hands behind his back, "this is a first for all of us, yes?”

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Salt and brine. At the precipice, where land turned to sea, a caramel-skinned young woman stood. Her nostrils flared wide, and a grin even wider flashed across her features. The profile was entirely different from that of the Sultanate's, but the foreign town's scent filled her with a nostalgia for home. Inescapably, the telltale smell of hard work filled the town, rolling off of the backs of the workers who bustled about its streets and setting the town alight with life.

It was a good sign for the job to come.

She'd been up and active for a few hours now. After arriving in town the day before, she'd wiled away her time exploring the port-city, getting to know the locals, and poking her head around the local eateries. By the end of the night her purse had naturally wound up empty, but that hardly concerned her. At the end of the day, all a girl really needed was a decent place to sleep, and a clean set of clothes for the next day. Anything beyond that belonged solely in the lap of luxury, and her time spent there had long since come and gone.

Her pockets light, the young woman slowly began to meander her way towards her meeting point for the day. In the distance, she could hear the telltale lumbering of a Phantasmal Armor, surely reminding her of the nature of the work she'd been hired for. Her own mount sat parked atop a small sand dune near the ocean's edge. It wasn't the most practical place to leave it, but if she squinted her eyes and imagined hard enough, the scene was almost enough to trick her into believing she was back home. Not that she was particularly homesick, or anything, but it was a fun thought to entertain. Just what would her family think if they knew what she was doing with herself now?

The thought always made her chuckle. They'd be sweating and screaming up a storm.

"Hallo, hallo!" She called out as she drew close to the meeting, and eyed the small congregation that'd beaten her there. "What's all this, then? We all being hired on for the same job? How are we all doing today?" As she rattled off whatever question popped into her head, the woman's fingers twitched at her side. Instinctively, they wanted to make a motion for her brow, but she willed them still. Her nationality was obvious enough by her appearance, but she was aware enough of her country's reputation among certain circles to hold off on outing herself any more than she had to.

"Almeisan, by the by. Who's in charge here?"

 

[Dragonruby]

Walking down the roads of Limsell, Emerick couldn't help but be amazed by everything he saw. With vendors and merchants hawking their wares, brightly colored signs drawing the eye, and streets wide enough to support multiple Phantasmal Armors walking abreast, the city was on a grander scale than anything he'd ever seen before. He could only imagine what the capital of the Sultanate looked like, and judging by the fact that few people even batted an eye at the fact that he was stomping down one of the streets, mercenaries like him were a common sight. There'd been nothing quite like this at home, and while he could walk down the town square with his Armor back home as well, it was mostly because there wasn't anything important to step on back home. Here, he felt like if he accidentally stomped on that cart full of shiny things off a bit to the left, he'd end up in debt for the rest of his life, and considering the Sultanate, might not be too far off the mark.

As much as Emerick would've loved to spend some time exploring the streets in person, he had an appointment to make. He wasn't quite sure about the job, but an opportunity like this wasn't something he could exactly pass up, and it would be nice to not live from paycheck to paycheck as an individual mercenary for a while at the very least. Still... For a personal letter to find its way to him, he's either made a bigger name for himself than he thought, or his employers were desperate, and he wasn't quite sure which of those two things were worse.

These thoughts were shoved aside as the harbor grew larger in the distance, the great sails of large trading vessels evident from blocks away. It wasn't terribly hard to find the appointed place he was supposed to meet everyone, especially considering there were a number of other Phantasmal Armors gathered around the place. Kneeling down nearby, Emerick popped open the cockpit, leaning of the edge as he clung to one of the handles.

"Well, I hope I'm not in the wrong place, cause that'd be a bit awkward," he said with a smile, waving the letter in the air with his free hand. "Name's Emerick. Heard you were in the market for an Armor Pilot?"

 

[simj26]

“Running initial motion check. Manipulator movement,” she flexed her fingers within the cockpit, and rolled both of her shoulders, feeling the weight of the Armor shift around her. “Lower limbs,” she muttered, as she raised one leg, then the other, testing the joints’ movement range. “All systems green. Good to go.” She turned to the edge of the black ship that was cutting through the waves at a fine speed. She could just barely make out land in the horizon, but still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. She flipped the switch on the speaker system, and leaned forwards slightly to the microphone. “How much longer ‘til we reach the port?”

“In about seven minutes, Vulpes. Cool your engines,” was the reply from one of the staff.

Seven minutes, huh. That was either too long, or too short, depending on whatever she planned to do. She moved her Armor to the side of the giant ship, careful not to tip over the edge and get thrown into the water, and opened up the cockpit. With a hiss, the sea breeze rushed in, filling her nostrils with the smell of salt. She pushed herself out of her braces, and, with the agility of a monkey, clambered up onto the top of her Armor. Straightening up on its shoulder, she shaded her eyes with one hand, and held onto the Armor’s head with the other. The Concern ship, with its black body and a golden eagle emblazoned onto its hull with the letters SC beneath its wings, was a sight, no doubt, to any who were looking towards the sea. It was a statement, a very grand one, and she was chosen to represent that very statement. Her chest swelled with pride, as she recalled her mission- to assist the prestigious Shahyrar family. Her performance would make for a great selling point for Serravalle. She’d prove to the rest that she wasn’t a waste of resources. They’d learn, oh yes, they’d learn the name of Vulpes!

“Vulpes, stand by, we’re reaching soon,” a voice called from below, as the shiphands prepared for the approach to the island. Time passed way too quickly when she was in her own mind, it seemed. Vulpes withdrew a green ribbon from her pocket, and pulled her hair back behind her into a ponytail, then, with practiced motions, tied the ribbon upon it, holding the ponytail in place. She slid down the shoulder of her Armor, and landed neatly on the back of her cockpit. Right, time for the entrance. Slipping into the braces of the cockpit, the Armor’s back closed shut behind her, and the inside of the cockpit lit up to life once more.

“Schwarzritter, ready to deploy!” she announced through the sound system.

“Alright, Schwarzritter, we’re making the approach now. Good luck out there, Vulpes.” The shiphand flashed a thumbs up towards the Armor. Vulpes grinned, and returned the motion with her own, her Armor moving to reflect it. “Schwarzritter, going live in 3...2...1…”

The Serravalle Concern ship made a hard turn as it approached the port. With measured steps, the grey Phantasmal Armor took off on a running start, then, at the very edge of the ship’s side, it leapt towards the edge of the port. The Armor cleared the edge cleanly, and landed easily beside the gathering of other Armors. Vulpes saluted those who had already arrived before her.

She opened up the back of her unit again, and climbed out of it, back onto the shoulder of her PA, where she crouched down, and hollered down to the other mercenaries. “Hey! Nice to meetcha! I’m Vulpes, Serravalle Concern’s representative! Me and Schwarzritter here, we’re all the help you need, I’ll tell ya this mu--” She didn’t know why, she didn’t know what drove her to do it, but her eyes flashed towards the side, and she fell silent. Is that--

“The Brutal Giant?” she murmured, as she studied the rugged Confederate model. Wasting no time, she slid down the length of her PA’s arm, and dropped down onto the ground. Recovering quickly, she started towards one of the more recognisable Arena Armors, her eyes gleaming in awe. “Heavy armor, Confederacy model, built with rounded edges to limit the areas that opponent Armors can grab, as well as deflect some types of blows easier. “Wooooooowwww!” she exclaimed, unable to contain her awe any longer, as she ran her hand across the scratched blue paint.

 

[Lucem]

It had been a while since he visited a place with such great weather. Everything from the warmth of the sun to the soothing sound of the ocean made him feel rejuvenated, breathing life into his tired body. He was still a bit sore from his late night training, but it wasn't enough to keep the young man from bouncing between the various stalls that filled the area. Getting to explore marketplaces like this was one of the good things about being in Alliance territory, so it would've been a waste if he let a little exhaustion prevent him from seeing what the port town had to offer.

While the opportunity to explore the city of Lismel was enough to make him feel lively, there was another reason why he was full of energy. If he was fortunate, this would be his first day working for the Shahyrar family as a mercenary. It'd be his first time doing this type of work since Zenith disbanded. He had mixed feelings about joining a different company after everything that happened with the crew he thought of as family, but he already made up his mind about this. He decided that this would be his best chance to grow as a pilot and find his way back to Wing's side. Just sitting around feeling depressed wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he had to get right back on his feet and put in the effort if he wanted to make his dream a reality. Although, that all depended on whether he was actually hired. That's why he couldn't afford to be a slouch. He had to put his best foot forward.

Looking at his watch, Allie took a bite of the bread he'd just bought, getting a good taste of the salty air that filled his nostrils. Should be about time. Right on cue, the thunderous sound of a Phantasmal Armor's landing rang throughout the harbor. Guess that's the place.

Seeing the small circle of pilots who gathered before him, Allie clutched the dog tags that hung around his neck. Even if it was no longer around, and even if he was fighting for someone else, he would always be loyal to Zenith. Nothing would ever change that. Until the time came when he could go back to the place he belonged, he'd be here, doing his best to prove he was worthy enough to go back home.

Swallowing the last of his bread, Allie approached the others with a small smile on his face. Addressing his employer first, the redhead stood straight, trying to make a good first impression."I'm Allie. If you'll have me, I'll do my best to meet your expectations." He offered the others a friendly wave as he continued, hoping to get along with his potential comrades. "Looking forward to working with you guys."

 

[QuirkyAngel]

“There it is…”

Juniper closed the spyglass, slipping it back in her toolbelt. From the roof of a large building overseeing Limstell port, the redhead could see the arrival of two large autocarriages—the second one dragging along a trailer which carried a massive Phantasmal Armor. Only the wealthy Shahyrar family could afford to travel in such style. Not that the emblem wasn’t a dead giveaway. Still, she took the time to survey the many ships, trying locate the one that would belong to the new company…and noticed large black one with a golden eagle on the hull along the way.

Certainly eye-catching.

Glancing up at the Quinston, which sat hunched on its heels beside her, Juniper grinned . “Time to go.”

Pulling down her goggles to her eyes, Juniper climbed into the cockpit and brought the dull green phantasmal armor to life. Juniper had chosen travel along the rooftops to her destination rather than take the main road to decrease the risk of accidents. Big, busy cities were such a bother to walk through, though the tall towers were useful.

Juniper took her time, making sure the mana engine was running properly, before taking aim at the tip of the roof and shooting out a line of hooked wire. She checked that the wire was securely wrapped around the tip before the 6-meter phantasmal armor steadily descended to the ground and walked the rest of the short distance to the port. Given Quinston was an Alliance Frame, and it wasn’t Juniper’s first time in Limstell, she drew less attention than the other armors that came before her.

All hired by the Shahyrar family, no doubt.

The offer from one of the richest merchant families of the Seven Seas Alliance took her by surprise, as she wasn’t much a soldier, but Juniper gladly accepted. Big opportunities didn’t come every day after all and what better way to show off her father’s design than to do it through a contract with the Shahyrar family? While she didn’t have very much experience fighting other phantasmal armors in wars and such, she did have experience occasionally helping to protect ships from the dangerous beasts that existed out in the sea. Perhaps one of the merchants then had recommended her?

Regardless, the promised pay stymied any doubts Juniper had about the job.

Stopping Quinston near the other phantasmal armors, Juniper lowered the frame to one knee, opened the hatch to the cockpit, and pulled up her goggles to get a clearer view of the other mercenaries. “Juniper Lackenheimer, here. Present and ready with the Quinston. ”

 

[waifu]

MAKO
Cold.

Mako hugged herself as she slowly made her way to the meeting location. This was the absolute worst time to get sick, she had been under the weather since she arrived in Limstell the night before. She suspected it was the street food she had for dinner upon her arrival. Part of her wanted to find that stall again just so she could bash the owner's head in with his own utensils. Unfortunately for her though, there were other priorities at the moment, so that would have to wait. The weather was pleasant but it was still quite chilly for her in her current state, the soothing wind felt prickly against her exposed skin. She had compromised her regular attire by adding a pair of leggings underneath her shorts for that reason. It would be safe to assume she was in a worse mood than usual, which wasn't a very bright or cheery one to begin with.

She eventually spotted a gathering of people and Phantasmal Armors at the port, they weren't hard to miss. Mako's eyes narrowed at the the scene from a distance, taking it all in. This had to be it. She walked up to the rest of the group, and instead of introducing herself or even making her presence known, silently climbed up on one of the crates that were laid out in the open. She averted her gaze from the rest and pulled her hood further over her face to both keep her face warm and to conceal her tired, puffy eyes. Her scowl was the only visible feature of hers one could see at that moment.

 

[GasMaskie]

"...And here they are, right on cue." Both the former knight and the strategist watched quietly as both pilots and their Phantasmal Armors had begun to gather at the docks before them. Right on cue, the two of them repeated the Al'faeden greeting before the rest of their potential company had arrived. None of these pilots were particularly new - they all had their fair share of experience; enough that the Shahyrar family's agents considered them valuable enough to recruit. As the captain of the company cleared his throat and stepped forward, the lame strategist found his gaze falling upon a small, scowling hooded figure. Was she...?

"Ahem. Thank you all for anwering the call and assembling here today. My name is Alfried Coswell, captain of our currently unnamed mercenary company. And to my left, Reyn Berit - our strategist. Holy Calendar Year 119. The Lacillan-Zeldran War, while it has had pockets of momentary 'peace', has been going on for 15 years now - a decade and a half. Furthermore, Phantasmal Beasts continue their unrelenting assault on humanity." Stepping forward, the golden-haired man spoke loudly as he surveyed the pilots who'd be serving under him. Other than Renard, they were on the young side - perhaps he could see a little of his former self in them.

"In times like these, mercenaries and sellswords are a necessity! Coin! Glory! Those come easy for us! Whether it's a village caught in the middle of Lacroa on the battlefront or an army who needs extra PAs to bolster their position, if the world calls we will answer! Travelling the world and fighting all sorts of opponents... That doesn't sound too bad to me! Our employers, the Shahyrar Family, who has for the longest time remained focused on their trade, now extends their reach towards the rest of the world!" Clearing his throat once more, the knight took a step back and patted Reyn's shoulder, motioning for him to take a step forward.

"...As Alfried stated, we represent the Shahyrar Family's interests. We would do well to answer the expectations they set upon us. But, they've given us quite the leeway when it comes to the jobs we can take. As your strategist, I'll do my best to select jobs that provide both an acceptable profit and peace of mind... in fact, I already have a task ready for us. We will conduct our briefing on the ship along with further introductions to the staff of the vessel that will serve as our base of operations. I look forward to working with you all." With a bow, the young man turned on his heel and began to make his way towards a particularly large ship docked at the farthest point. It was clad in iron plating and looked brand new - though it certainly didn't resemble a typical warship. A large set of doors opened at the back of the ship and a ramp had been lowered for the Phantasmal Armors.

"Hm, hm. A little too stiff for my tastes, but I'm sure Reyn'll warm up to you lot soon. My Phantasmal Armor's already loaded up in the back, so I'll meet you on the bridge with the rest of our company's staff. In any case, I hope you're all ready for a good scrap - once we land, you should expect some action!" With a smile, the Lacillan waved at the group of pilots as he moved to follow Reyn to the ship. Regardless of how experienced these pilots were, he was certain that the young man had picked a particularly simple mission for the fledgling company - and, a certain someone's absence had given him a good idea of what the actual objectives of their first foray would be.

 

[ERode]

Another pilot from the Sultanate? Jagred’s eyes flickered in the woman’s direction and he offered a small smile, but when she deigned not to offer any greeting indicative of an Al’faedan upbringing, the red-haired youth turned his attention back to the Alfried and Reyn. Maybe she was a displaced individual too, a person with an upbringing that did not match their bloodline. As the two men finished their short introductions, only to promise more introductions once they got into the ship, Jagred strode off in a light jog, hopping back into his Leiru. The Phantasmal Armor was still warm when he slipped into the cockpit, and soon, the shieldbearer rose up, disturbing the seagulls that had been perched upon its angular head.

Entering the ship and docking his Phantasmal Armor as per the instructions of the crew down below, Jagred scaled down the side of the Leiru once more, only to wince at his positioning. Whereas his own Phantasm Armor was a beat-up model with most of its shiny, silver coating chipped off through long days spent in sandstorms and the blazing sun, with only a short sword to show for it, the one that Jagred had parked it beside could only be considered a shining exemplar of everything the Leiru was not. Gleaming silver, and enough weapons to cover any offense required, whether melee, ranged, or magical. He could practically smell the newness of the model, and for just a moment, Jagred felt a spot of envy in his heart.

Maybe on his next paycheck, he should go pay for a new paintjob too.

…

Nah, paintjobs weren’t gonna save him from the jaws of a Beast. He thumbed his necklace, let out a low whistle at the juxtaposition between the two Phantasm Armors, before heading off to the bridge, a quiet song on his lips.

 

[YsFanatic]

Renard couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise when he spotted one of the other pilots fawning over his Armor. In the scrapping pits you didn't really get fans, most people either didn't know or ignored the pits in favor of official Arena matches. While he was aware that he had started to get a fanbase after debuting in the Arena, it was smaller than most of the others due to his no-nonsense fighting style and lack of flashiness. Renard hadn't met any of them before today and found the whole concept to be somewhat embarrassing as he fought to raise money for his family, not for fame and glory. The arena fighter, well now former arena fighter, didn't know how to react around one, but at least this fan was a fellow pilot so that should make things easier. In theory anyway.

Approaching the woman, he gave her a simple nod in greeting. "I'm Renard, the pilot of Brutal Giant. I'm guessing you've also been recruited for this mercenary unit?" Any response was cut off as those in charge decided to speak up and get things going. Once the duo were done with their announcements, the older man turned back to the woman with a shrug. "Well, guess we better get moving. See you aboard the ship!"

While the former arena pilot wasn't the most graceful climber by any means, he had no issues climbing back up to the torso of his PA and squeezing into the cockpit. With practiced ease he brought the Armor up to partial power before carefully bringing it to its feet, making sure to give the female pilot enough time to safely get away. Once it was standing he carefully and slowly had Brutal Giant pull its enormous weapon from the rack and attach it to the back of the machine, movements that were completely different with his savage, no fucks given combat style. Not being used to boarding his Phantasmal Armor onto a ship, it took him perhaps a minute or two longer than expected to get it docked where it was supposed to be, right next to the Armor that had been before him. As soon as Renard was satisfied that it was positioned correctly for transit, he powered down and climbed down to its feet. As he started to make his way to where they were supposed to meet it started to sink in what he was getting involved in. The next time he fought it wouldn't be a simple match against a single foe, it would be a true battle where anything could happen.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Well, if she could say nothing else for the other new hires, they were certainly a spirited bunch. The lot, a few exceptions aside, were all chittering with energy. At least she wouldn't be stuck with a bunch of sourpusses for the foreseeable future.

She didn't seem to be attracting any attention, bless the stars, as the briefing trundled on without a hitch. It was hardly anything she'd call surprising, but she supposed that not everybody was quite so educated in the history of the world and the machinations of the companies that ran it as she was. She's heard of the Shahyrar a few times when managing her parents' dealings, but this would be her first time working with- or under, rather- them. Serravalle, too, wasn't an unfamiliar name, though their sector of interest aligned much less with her family's than the Shahyrar's did.

As the group began to disperse out to retrieve their Armors, Almeisan followed suit. Tracking back over the now faded footprints she'd left in the oceanic sand, she'd soon made her way back, scaled her Armour's side, and dropped into the cockpit. It now smelled just as heavily of seawater as the rest of the town did.

Trundling in behind the arena-armor, Almeisan pulled Arsu into position with an unpracticed 'grace'. Shows of agility had never been her specialty, both in and out of her Armor. Nestled between then other models, it stuck out like a sore thumb, at least by her eyes. Well, as much as one could amongst such a colorful selection as this. Between the mass-produced, brutalist design and the total lack of decorative flare, the Arsu was bereft of a certain personal touch that the others carried. Each of the other models, she reckoned, was of a stripe that told a story of its pilot. While hers...

Well, to put it gently, she was certainly crossing her fingers that nobody was going to go about trying to extrapolate any information about her from the boring old bucket of bolts.

Emerging from the shadow of her Armour, Almeisan let out a light sigh. She loved the thing regardless of its faults, but it was times like these when she wished she had the money for a remodel or two. Surely she'd be able to write it off as a business expense. For marketing, perhaps?

Maybe that was what she'd do with her first paycheck from this gig, she considered, before slapping herself to attention and breaking into a slow jog towards the bridge.

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Juniper's eyes brightened at the speech from the Captain and Strategist. Coin? Glory? Now that was what she was talking about.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about joining the battlefront, or jumping into the Lacillan-Zeldran war, but phantasmal beasts she could handle. Traveling the world sounded exciting as well. This was exactly the sort of job that would give Quinston the exposure she desired.

"Hm, so they already already have our first job lined up. They're well prepared." Juniper dropped the googles back over her eyes. "No name yet though. We'll have have to come up with a good one."

A light chuckle sounded from Juniper's lips before she closed the hatch to her phantasmal armor's cockpit. "You ready Quinston?"

It had felt a bit strange at first. Using her father's first name. However, the Quinston's become as much a partner for her as any human could be. Her father's last legacy. Whether it was helping out with dock-work or doing mercenary jobs, Juniper was confident she and her partner could handle any challenge.

The green armor got to its feet and marched towards the new ship, following along with the others in even stride up the ramp.

Definitely something paid for by the Shahyrar family. Juniper looked around at all the new equipment on the ship in awe. If her father had that much to work with, he'd definitely would've developed something grand. A magical gizmo like nothing seen before! Juniper herself wasn't entirely sure what such a gizmo would entail, but she was certain he could've done it. That was the amount of faith she had in her late old man...even if she had never voiced such faith while he'd been alive. Quite the opposite in fact.

Parking Quinston in the back of the ship, near where Alfred Coswell seemed to keep his, Juniper took her time before making her way to the bridge. She first had to make sure any ship workers present understood that Quinston was not to be touched. The cleaning. The maintenance. Any adjustments to her partner. She would do it all.

Only when she was satisfied did Juniper Lackenheimer step into the bridge, her eyes flickering around to see who was present. Juniper grinned and saluted. "Ready for action~! Hopefully nothing to difficult though. Ya'll have to be super sadists to make us work so hard on our first job."


GasMaskie ...and anyone else that's here

 

[Dragonruby]

Emerick couldn't help but quirk his brow at their new employer's impromptu speech. Needed a bit more work to have the right amount of impact there, but, he couldn't complain he supposed. "Well, that was nice, good to meet the crew," he commented with a nod and a smile. His eyes surveyed the other pilots now, watching as they went around fetching their armors or making small conversation while they prepared and his smile split even wider. "I've missed this..." Emerick muttered quietly, stretching out his arms and rolling his shoulders now as he sucked in a deep breath of the ocean air. Working alone had its merits, but nothing quite beat have someone to watch your back and shoot the shit with.

He'd just been about to clamber back into his own armor when he spotted someone, a girl, hood dragged up over her head and seated silently on a crate while staring down at the floor with a gloomy expression on her face. Emerick tilted his head at that curiously. They were here being employed weren't they? Bit of an odd first impression to be making there. He leaned in slightly to try and get a better look at her, not that it'd do much from this distance before he simply sighed and shouted out towards her cheerily. "Hey! Smile a little, won't ya? This is what you're here for, yea? A chance for coin and glory, as the captain put it. Put a smile on your face, won't ya?" He wasn't really sure if she'd even heard, and he was half certain that it'd just put her in an even more sour mood if she did, but he turned at that, getting into his PA to begin moving it onto the ship, making sure everything was situated properly before heading off to find their new boss again.

waifu

 

[waifu]

Mako quietly sat on the corner crates, closely listening to Alfried and Reyn speak. Once their speeches concluded, a new set of instructions were given to all the pilots. Mako felt relieved more than anything. It sounded like she made the right decision by coming here, they all seemed like alright people. Coin, Glory, or even putting an end to this war wasn't something she was after. She only wanted to see her sister again and wondered if this opportunity would bring her any closer to her.

One by one, her colleagues started to board the ship. Mako sat on top of the crates still, deep in thought, but also purposely avoiding any interactions completely. Her plan failed as another new recruit called out to her unexpectedly. Mako raised her head to see who the voice belonged to, though her own face was still barely visible because of the cat-eared hood. It was a man with multiple scars across his face. He appeared to be around her age, though she looked younger so it was hard to tell.

He told her to smile - not once, but twice. Her upper lip curled in disdain. Correction: Most of them seemed like alright people. All the rage she felt earlier slowly came back in that moment. She wanted to grab something and throw it at him. She searched her surroundings frantically, but it was of no use. He had also left by then.

Mako was no longer in the mood to sit around and made her way to where everyone parked their PAs for safekeeping. Coincidentally, she spotted the same pilot from earlier getting in his PA and trudging through the sand to get the ship. Mako had never slid inside Samurai as fast as she did then and sped up to him, only to deliberately bump into him. "Mind your own business, moron!" She yelled from her cockpit, her face matching the exterior of her PA, before storming off.

Dragonruby

 

[Lucem]

Things were moving pretty fast. The newly formed mercenary company already had its first mission, putting them right into battle after introductions were finished. It was unexpected, but he definitely wasn't complaining. The sooner he started working, the sooner he could start improving. Still, it had been a while since he took on a job like this. Even if he had been keeping up with his training, he was a little unsure about how he'd perform in the field. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too rusty.

The captain said to be ready for a fight, but he was hoping to know a little more about the mission. Reyn would probably provide more details later, but Allie would just have to speculate for now. The Shahyrar family wasn't too picky about the work the company chose to do, so there were tons of possibilities. It probably wouldn't be anything major, considering that this would be their first job, but he kept thinking about one of the examples Alfried mentioned. He would've liked to help a village caught in the middle of a battle between the two warring factions. His own village wasn't fortunate enough to survive after being caught in the crossfire, so he wanted to make sure others didn't suffer the same fate.

As the new recruits split off to retrieve their Armors, Allie quickly ran back to where he left his own. A smile appeared on his face when he saw Sparrow kneeling just where he left it. His mechanical partner looked great underneath the tropical sun, its beautiful silver exterior shining like a precious gem. The sight really made him appreciate that it was still around. Sparrow had taken a lot of damage during Zenith's last mission, barely functioning as Allie managed to escape with Wing's help. Thankfully, he had spent a long time working as a member of the maintenance crew. He was more of a mechanic than a pilot, but he was able to save his Armor because of that. He wasn't able to salvage most of the equipment, but that was okay. Things like that had to be earned, and he clearly hadn't earned them if he lost them so easily. As long as the rest of his PA was fine, he'd be able to work his way up to that point again..

Climbing inside the cockpit, Allie made his way to the ship's ramp, placing Sparrow alongside the other Armors. The crew here was pretty diverse, so it was natural that the same would go for their PAs. There were plenty of models he hadn't seen before, each of them unique in their own way. It reminded him of the hangar where Zenith stored their Armors, most of the members making sure theirs had some personal flair.

He took a good look around the ship as he made his way to the bridge. Anyone could tell that a vessel like this was expensive just by looking from outside, but the interior was on a different level. Something like this could only be bought by someone with deep pockets. It was just what he'd expect from one of the major merchant families. It was a little hard to believe that he'd be working for someone like the Shahyrar family just after getting back into the mercenary business. He'd worked with them previously when they hired Zenith for a job, but this was different. Rather than just being hired by them to perform a single task, he'd be directly affiliated with the Shahyrars. There'd be a lot of uncertainty when working for a big name like this, but he couldn't think of a better way to gain more experience.

 

[simj26]

Vulpes“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Renard! I’m Vul--” she started her excited introductions, but was swiftly cut off by the announcement from their clients. Augh! How dare they?! They were interrupting THE ONE AND ONLY VULPES of THE SERRAVALLE CONCERN. Not only that, but there was something else that irritated her! No one even applauded at her sterling arrival! These people had no class! Even that Brutal Giant pilot, bless his heart and fighting skill, barely even said anything about her wonderfully executed jump! Did they even KNOW how much calculations were involved in making a leap off a moving ship, without damaging the ship itself, or the land the PA landed on? Of course not! These were just casual pilots who just fought for coin and name. She supposed she was doing the same, BUT! But, but, but! She was doing it for the Concern! And she didn’t do things by the halves. These guys were gonna be the kind that bailed at any sign of trouble! They didn’t know ANYTHING! She made a face. She was supposed to be working with a bunch of dumb...dummies, who didn’t know the stern from the bow of a ship! She puffed her cheeks out in frustration, and watched as the other pilots climbed into their Armors and boarded the ship. She started to scale her own Armor, after noting that one of the pilots had purposefully gone and shoulder-checked another. She shook her head as she slid into her cockpit. With the hiss of pressure, the back shut behind her. She took hold of the controls, and brought the Armor into the ship behind everyone else, judging every move they made.

Once inside, she glanced about the ship. So this was the rinky-dink dinghy they were riding on. Hmph. The Concern had better equipment on their ships. This one could barely compare to what her arriving ship had. Though, she had to admit begrudgingly, that this ship was much better equipped than what she would have expected from a mercenary crew. That family that was lining their pockets must be an important one. Yet, they made a poor choice of picking all these lackadaisical, no-good, amateurs to play on their home team. She scoffed, and smirked to herself. Well, thank goodness that the best pilot from Serravalle was here to give them a hand. These guys, except maybe Renard, probably couldn’t even hold a candle to a child like her!

She’d show ‘em. She’d show ‘em just how great a Serravalle pilot can be, and then they’d notice her genius!

 

[GasMaskie]

The young man stepped onto the bridge of the ship, cane in hand as he surveyed the state of affairs. The staff, all wearing similar black uniforms, were busy at work preparing for the ship's maiden voyage. He had enough foresight to inform them ahead of time, howevver, and what remained were simply cursory checks of the ship's magic - Tactical and Magic. He doubted that they'd have to rely on them for the time being - not while they were a fledgeling operation at least. Alfried had wandered off in the mean time, likely preparing on his own for the first job. He pursed his lips as he turned around to greet the pilots that had finished loading up their Phantasmal Armors. Tapping his cane against the wooden floor, the young man began to speak.

"...Ahem. Welcome to the Crossguard - a warship constructed with the economic might of the Shahyrar family's holdings. While this vessels capabilities rival and in some cases, exceed that of other Alliance warships, the Crossguard shall operate indepdently as the base of our operations. As you'll see, the cabins onboard are equipped with numerous amenities - far from the barracks or trappings that some of you may be used to already." The young man coughed into a glove hand before tapping his cane against the floor once more. And almost immediately, several figures filed into the room - one in particular having to squeeze through the narrow doorway on the side.

"Now, as for some of our important staff - our company's quartermaster, Ruger En-"

"Now, now Captain, you've done enough speaking - I'll handle the introductions. Ruger L. Enfield at your service. I'll be your quartermaster - just say the word and I'll get you anythin' you need. As long as you've got the coin. Procuring parts, ammunition, all that takes a bit o' effort, y'know. Now, the giant lady in the armor is Oroma - if you aren't doing your own maintenance, she'll handle things."

"Mm. Pleased to meet you." The armored giant turned her head to Juniper for a moment, noting that the young woman would be handling her armor's own maintenance. What sort of expression lay hidden behind the knightly visor was a mystery.

"And the scruffy, gruff son of a bitch on my right is -" With a forced smile, the quartermaster motioned to his side.

"Dr. Jeren Calgos. Rest assured, my salary is enough to keep treatments free. We're all mercenaries here, however. Try not to get too banged up on the job." The doctor sighed after his introduction, still holding onto his clipboard. He muttered something as his gaze fell to the parchments.

"...Tch. He'll keep you patched up, don't you worry. And I suppose that's-"

"Mr. Enfield, you're forgetting someone." The young captain finally spoke up, keeping one eye closed and the other on the last notable member of the ship's support staff.

The gray-haired quartermaster looked around for a moment and blinked. Standing behind the assembled pilots was the staff's most enigmatic person. Clad in his dark attire with skin covered in worn bandages, the man simply bowed when attention fell upon him.

"...Veilone. I shall keep her running." Without another word nor a chance to speak, he retreated from the bridge into the depths of the ship.

"That concludes introductions then - perhaps some of you may have noticed that we're missing a certain member on staff. Our first assignment is to take them onboard the Crossguard - they're currently staying within a frontier village just off the southern coast of Lacroa. Although it sounds easy, we've received quite a few reports of local bandits plotting to sack the settlement - you should be prepared to disembark in your Phantasmal Armors once we weigh anchor. For now, we'll remain on the bridge. As I've read, building camaraderie with your fellow pilots may help with tactical cohesion in the field - it might be wise to strike up a conversation while we set off." With a slight bow, the young man settled into the captain's chair at the center of the bridge. The three staff members, bringing up their arms in an Alliance salute, exited the spacious room to attend to their own duties.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Wah. So many names. So many faces. Almeisan's fluttered with a sense of gentle nostalgia. This was just like getting to know a new construction crew. She could feel her fingers twitching and her eyebrows itching. Ah, she couldn't help it. She wanted to join in.

"Well, in that case- Howdy!" She'd already given her name, but that hardly had any merit as a proper introduction, did it?

"Ahem." Clearing her throat, Almeisan took a sweeping step forward to place herself firmly between the rest of the crew, and the exit. "I mentioned it before, but, Almeisan! Reporting in. Pilot of the Arsu and... Your new best friend? Is that too forward?" For a moment the dark skinned young woman's brow furrowed, before she snapped herself back to attention. "The Arsu is a Caster-type Armour, so I'll be providing backline support for the most part, so, er, please take care of me, I suppose?"

Throughout her introduction, the young woman spoke with light smile gracing her features, and an air of laxness. Hidden behind them, her eyes darted about her comrades and her mind logged away a few rushed assessments. She'd hardly the time to get a proper impression of the whole lot, of course, but she'd an inkling of a few of them already. A rowdy kid, a very grumpy kitty cat, and a spunky greasemonkey.

A colourful cast, if nothing else.

More than them though, she found her interest locked on another of her crewmates. Her eyes might have deceived her, but she was fairly certain she'd seen a Sultanate greeting flashed from his fingertips, and given his peachy complexion... She felt a hint of concern flashing through her gut. If the man was what she suspected, then it wasn't unlike she'd find herself at odds with him at one point or another. It was regrettable, but keeping him at arm's length might have been the best thing to do.

"What about you guys?" For now, she swallowed the thought, spun on her heel and set out of the room at a steady pace, clearly expecting at least a few of her crewmates to follow. "Let's walk and talk, yeah? No point in playing teammates if we don't know what we're all capable of, right?"

 

[YsFanatic]

Renard looked at each member of the new merc company in turn, becoming increasingly self conscious of his age in the process. A lot of these pilots were so much younger than him, and while he had heard from his parents how many recruits for military and mercenary units start young it still caught him off guard.

'I'll just have to do my part to make sure these kids survive.'

With a start the now ex-Arena fighter realized the one of the other pilots had proposed taking out the skills as she walked out of the room. The idea had merit, Renard had heard what his parents had said to his sister about how important teamwork was. Walking after the woman, he quickly said his bit to keep things going.

"I'm Renard and I was a pilot in the Arena until I was hired for this. I have no experience with the kinds of battles we will be getting into, but I have heard a few things from my parents as they are former mercenaries." He paused for a moment to shrug lightly. "I have Brutal Giant setup for power and armor, so I'll be at the front crushing any enemies in reach."

 

[ERode]

Looked like the Shahyrar family was a fan of hiring eccentrics. From a blind man with the voice of a gravekeeper to an engineer clad in some incredibly ostentatious armor, Jagred couldn’t help but flash a grin. The world was a wide one, and if this job went well, talking with these eccentrics would certainly be something to enjoy, on those long journeys across the globe. And hell, the job definitely didn’t sound brutal or anything like that. It may have been with a different team, and it may have been under different situations, but Jagred had handled bandits before, just like how he had handled Phantasmal Beasts…until there were too many of them and the frontline was overrun.

It was going to be fine. Bandits weren’t monsters.

He shook his head, and turned to follow the others. An Arsu-type with Caster specifications was nice, and if the Brutal Giant knew how to handle itself in the front, that’d be even better. Almeisan and Renard. Jagred bobbed his head along before speaking up himself. “Jagred, piloting the Leiru model. They’re designed for defense, so I suppose I’ll be providing mobile cover for the backline and watching the backs of the frontline.” It sorta felt like they could have all said this way earlier, huh? “Any of you ever been to Lacroa before? Definitely a first for me.”

 

[waifu]

This was stupid. Mako didn't want to mingle with anyone. She hadn't come here to make friends. She could do it all alone if she tried hard enough. She didn't need teammates, she never did until now anyway. Why did she have to reintroduce herself anyway? - Oh, she hadn't introduced herself the first time around, did she? Mako was hit with a sudden realization. She supposed it was alright to inform them about who they were going to work with. It would piss her off if they addressed her with a "hey" or "you" instead.

"Name's Mako, I like to mind my own business," Mako introduced herself with a frown. Her hood was pulled back for once, her face finally visible to all. "I'll be at the front line."

She evaded all other questions and small talk. There was no need to tell them anything else. She didn't know them, she certainly wasn't going to trust them, at least for now. Mako's deadpan expression didn't waver in the slightest. This Almesian person seemed to be really shady, best friend? Yeah, right. Renard appeared to be an experienced pilot, whereas Jagred was sort of hard to read. Mako continued to observe the rest of them.

#hbd

 

[Lucem]

"I have!" Allie was quick to answer Jagred's question as he ran to catch up with the group of pilots. Placing his hands inside his jacket pockets, he looked to his fellow redhead. "I've been to a lot of places, but I was born in a small village in Lacroa. If there's anything you want to know, feel free to ask."

It had been a while since he last visited the mainland, so he was a little glad to be going back. Although, there probably wouldn't be much time to look around. They'd be busy as soon as the ship docked. With any luck, the missing crew member would be found quickly and without any trouble. He hoped that the local bandits wouldn't be an issue, but he was prepared to do his job if things went south. If everything went well, the village wouldn't have to worry anymore.

"My Sparrow also has good defense, but it's more focused on speed. It doesn't hit the hardest, but it's reliable." It was interesting to hear more about the pilots and their Armors. Each of them had their own specialty, which would make for a good unit. They were still strangers, so their teamwork likely wouldn't be great at first, but that would improve as they built stronger relationships with each other. Although, that might be easier said than done.

Turning to face the shorter girl at his side, Allie finally got a look at what she was hiding underneath her hood. She looked pretty young for a pilot, but he didn't think about her age too much. After all, he joined Zenith when he was still a kid. She hadn't mentioned anything about her Armor, but it must've been suited for close combat if she wanted to be on the front line. "Nice to meet you, Mako." He offered the girl a smile before looking away. She didn't seem like the type who enjoyed chatting, so he wouldn't bug her with a bunch of questions. He was used to dealing with people that preferred their own company, so he knew pushing too hard at the start wasn't best. Still, he hoped he'd get a chance to know her better in the future.

"Once again, I'm Allie. I hope we can get along."

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Juniper smiled brightly at the armored woman who turned to look at her briefly--because she wasn't certain how else to respond. Oroma's helmet covered all her expressions so it might've just as easily a look of derision as a look of friendliness. Either way, she didn't have any intentions of making enemies on the first day of her new job.

Acknowledging every introduction, or re-introduction, with a tip of the hat or a friendly wave, depending on how amiable they seemed, Juniper dug her fingers into the pockets of her blue coat for lack of better things to do with them. It kept herself from getting handsy with all the pretty equipment lying around as well. Honestly, Juniper would rather wander around, explore the ship, and find something to do than stand around on bridge trading pleasantries. Possibly follow Oroma and as her question her about the cool looking armor. Or find her cabin and take a look at the various amenities their strategist spoke of. But the "Captain" had given his order. Not like she'd done any reading on tactical cohesion..

"Call me June. The Quinston is also built for speed soooo..." Juniper shrugged. "It's good for scouting purposes, I guess. High mobility means it can move between frontlines and backlines fairly quickly to help where it's needed. Though I don't really have a lot of experience with these things so I'm content to listen to the orders of my more experienced pilots and do what I can."

Her eyes drifted out to sea. If there was one good thing about being out on the bridge, it provided an excellent view.

Her first time traveling beyond Alliance waters. The thought filled Juniper with nervous excitement. She never thought she'd get the chance. After her father died, she could never have imagined she would end up on a Shahyrar-owned warship working with other mercenaries.

"I'm not very well traveled, so I can't tell you much about the mainland, but I was born and raised here in Lacroa as well so I'm familiar with the islands around here." She winked playfully at Jagred. "I'll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know about the Ark. That's how us Alliance folk operate."

Not really. She didn't have any problems just giving away information free of charge since they'd be working together anyway and keeping a co-worker in the dark provided no benefit. But the statement revealed more about herself and showcased her curiosity regarding regarding his home country as well. Two birds with one stone. Juniper wasn't even going to pretend to know much about other countries beyond the basics. She recognized the Sultenate greeting for example. Seen it often enough when their trade ships docked in Alliance port and was aware of common features as well as accents associated with the country. But, even so, she'd never been there herself. Had no reason, or budget, to travel beyond Alliance borders let alone a different continent. Allie, if he were so well traveled, could probably tell Jagred more about Lacroa as a whole than she could. Still. No harm in being friendly and offering her willingness to help.