Jesse Pinkman

IC: Karak - Atero Streets The stench of Roxtus. I am miles away but I can smell it. It keeps me focused. I am a revenant in this land of the living. They call this place, "Atero". I don't wish to be here. It's by the water, but that attracts everyone. Lots of eyes to see me. Unspoken thoughts, malicious intent. Impossible to ignore. Feasible, though, to discard. Despite my reluctance, here is better than any place else. And I seek shelter from the vicious heat. The masses chatter, and mutter amongst themselves, errant glances aim at me. Short lived as I glance back behind my mask. I walk on. The language they speak, I can pick up words and terms. Intonation carries more meaning. I feel it. Why do they ooze of mistrust toward one another? One of them - my size - sits in a machine larger than the one I claimed. A woman. She enjoys the privilege of boredom, stretched out in the wheeled contraption. A bird swoops down, perching itself on the front of the idle vehicle. Perhaps it too was bored. Then - a sound. Hands close around my weapon, drawn instantly. I snarl, the vehicle having emitted a horrid noise that tore at the ears. A warhorn. I leap forward, atop the hood of the vehicle. My club raises itself to the sky. The first enemy. OOC: @Snellyhello!

Karak Species: Glatorian Tribe: Blood (Defunct, approved by Goose) Gender: Male Appearance: Karak's stance is somewhat hunched or lower down, making his height somewhat deceiving, being even a little taller than your average Glatorian. Despite struggles with food and resources he manages to be noticeably sharp in build, thanks to strict routines he refuses to give up even when malnourished. His natural armour pigment is a pale, fleshy pink, with his red skin heavily displayed. In particular, his biceps under his shoulder pads and arms up to his wrist are almost completely bare, showcasing an array of ghostly white scars, simple in shape but sometimes with more texture and detail, forming images or runes. A few lesser scars can be seen on his unmasked face, and an unseen tapestry of marks beneath his chestplate, only hinted at by his bare abdominal region. His eye colour is a deep maroon. His armour is a mixture of well made brown leather with some rudimentary mineral elements, mostly used in the lining to provide extra protection. He wears something of a mixture between a mask and a helmet, which is made mostly of metal, resembling what we might recognise as an elephant’s skull (technically a mastodon skull), and secured with leather straps around his head. Near the open mouth section is a pair of tusks half as long as a forearm, and a cavity in the centre of the skull allows his eyes to glimpse through. It's worth noting he seems to use warpaint to smear the area around his eyes, to reduce glare. Skills: The warrior’s path from a young age has long since sculpted Karak into a chance defying machine of a man, battles and fights only having strengthened him in resolve and energy. While crafty, Karak’s virtue lies in his unbreakable tenacity. Because of the painful rituals practiced by the Blood Tribe, Karak’s pain tolerance is absurdly high, to the point it might rival a Glatorian with a cybernetic ability to inhibit just that, and his natural stamina seems like an endless pool. Despite physical disadvantages compared to his Glatorian peers due to his lack of cybernetics, Karak is a dangerous and fierce opponent that makes him a risky person to cross. Weakness(es): Karak has no cybernetics, and is from a much colder and damper climate than the sands of Bara Magna, which leaves him generally more dehydrated than the locals and more prone to the risk of exposure. He has a limited understanding of the Agori language and has difficulty communicating, and also is rather asocial and distrusting, which was exacerbated by his newfound nature as a foreigner. Gear: Karak’s weapon of choice is a large two handed weapon carried on his back, akin to a giant saw. The weapon’s length is about 4 feet in total, with the blades (8 on each side) being made of a sharp glassy black rock found up North in the Skrall/Blood Tribe homeland - that tends to fragment when it shatters. The weapon itself is made from a strong wood, and can be used to batter enemies rather than slice, if Karak so chose. The Blood Tribe’s stance on cybernetic implants has led to interesting technological developments after fierce skirmishes and recovery of Skrall weaponry - one might call them workarounds. One of the more deadly is a mechanical javelin launcher, a long treasured weapon of the Blood Tribe, perfected after years of innovation. It’s a long and hefty rifle-like weapon with glyphs and carvings in the wooden stock, that is capable of firing a single metal tipped javelin before having to be reloaded. Karak also carries barbed variants of the ammunition and a limited amount of black rock tipped javelin’s within the storage compartment of his vehicle. Finally, a short, pointed metal warpick remains at his hip, stolen long ago from a Skrall combatant. Vehicle: Karak also possesses a vehicle (approved by Goose), a seized Cendox he named Huracan, in reference to the considerable speed of the vehicle. The vehicle has a mounted thornax launcher, and has two front blades mounted as typical for the combat variant of the vehicle. Personality: Karak has the demeanour of a vengeful Iron Wolf. By necessity and also by nature he works entirely alone, which has perhaps worsened some of his more distrusting and antisocial traits. He feels as if he is on an alien world, and his Xenophobia has only been made more severe by the several Tribes and their harsh attitude towards outsiders such as himself. He speaks only broken Agori, often mixed with his native tongue. Background/Status: A wanderer from the lands North, little is known about Karak. Despite his fearsome nature he is not a bandit nor a brigand, and so his goals remain elusive, a secret he intends to keep to himself until death. The Skrall are his only known interest, but to what end is his own business. --- Vitrum Species: Glatorian Tribe: Ice (Exiled) Gender: Female Appearance: Vitrum's stature and physique are not notable for a Glatorian, she is about of average height and ambiguous in build due to her fondness for clothing that masks her body. What can be seen of her armour is a muted sand blue, with her skin oddly of a similar pigment. Her eyes on the other hand are a ruby red, usually narrowed in cat-like slits. Her rounded helmet has a rectangular open section for her eyes and decorative metal around where a mouth section might be, depicting a stylised straight mouth in itself. Her armour when visible is polygonal and simple in shape, but is usually covered by a dark beige cloak she wears when out of combat, both to protect from the sand and to protect her identity. The cloak also has a hood if needed. If seen, her knuckles are exceptionally calloused and worn. She is notably generally barefoot on missions to minimise noise as much as possible. Skills and Cybernetics: Vitrum is a talented and intelligent mercenary who, befitting of her occupation, prefers to keep fights as quick and weighted in her favour as possible. Whilst indeed a competent combatant her niche lies more in the shadows, which allows her to charge more of a premium for her services. She has two cybernetic enhancements (Approved by Goose). The first is enhanced hearing that she can switch on and off which makes her hearing much more sensitive when required. Her second enhancement is much rarer (and is usually hidden by her cloak) and consists of a pair of extremely quiet thrusters that fold out from her upper back, allowing her both to slowly glide for brief moments (longer risks malfunction) but also permit much higher jumps whenever needed, facilitating many more options for reconnaissance. Weakness(es): It has been a long time since the arena, and whilst Vitrum can hold her own in a fight she is outclassed in sustained conventional combat by more prominent Glatorian. Perhaps less a physical weakness than a barrier to certain employment opportunities - Vitrum refuses to visit Iconox, both for legal and personal reasons. Gear: Generally, Vitrum is one to procure specific tools for specific jobs, but in terms of gear carried on her person she has a preference for a collapsible metal shortsword she can stow away on her waist belt for close quarters, as well as a multipurpose repeating crossbow, a weapon long possessed and treasured as well as modified over time. The crossbow has a stock that can fold out to steady her aim but also fold in to conceal under her cloak or hold with one hand - and the weapon is capable of firing a variety of ammunition - her most common is a simple barbed metal bolt but she sometimes makes use of poisoned ammo. The crossbow can hold 5 bolts before the magazine must be refilled - which is a somewhat delicate procedure. Personality: Vitrum is a closed box, her attitude and appearance are all that she gives away. She doesn’t revel in violence but she also is wholly unafraid of it, which can make her a useful tool for employers that intend to send a message. Outside of her work she keeps her own company - any talk is to further a goal. Background/Status: Vitrum is a free agent assassin whose past has been carefully buried so as to stay clear of her current goals and aspirations - although if her aversion to Iconox is anything to go by, there might be some clues in the life of the former Ice Tribe Glatorian known as "Filia" who was exiled after a mortal accident in the arena. Whoever she might have been before, she has since literally made a new name for herself in the various crime underworlds of the villages in Bara Magna, and recent events have made her services ever more coveted.

IC: Solan Iudex A long, deliberate stare. It was obviously a slower process for Iudex to ponder much of anything, but the process continued nevertheless. "Aye. Fair enough." He smirked, after some time. Visibly, the man would have seemed calmer to Gunner. Sedated. "I'll...you ain't seen me like I was, not yet. But I'll be the best karzin' hire you ever had." He rose to his feet, groaning a bit as he cracked his neck. "I'll stick around here. Case I change my mind to something stupider, later, and don't come back." OOC: @Void Emissary@BULiK@ARROW404 (also yes, that was the implication, thank you)

IC: Solan Iudex The Titan's look became solemn all of a sudden as he registered Gunner's question, answering with nothing but a nod, possibly his only action that day void of ambiguity. His eyes drifted back to the Skakdi, carefully looking the metal mountain over. His calloused hands brought the smoke from his lips, dirty fingertips gently clutching the paper. "It's been a minute since I been at sea." His glare slowly neutralising to the more empty-headed expression he carried around. "Not sure how long. But I've been around, ya know. Most ships won't take me now, karz, most anyone won't. Think they're above hiring someone who built their karzin' island." A twitch below the eye, and a scratch behind a horn as he finally placed the parchment on the table, stubbing his smoke out next to it. "I give up. This bloody handwriting makes Rahkshi look literate." He sighed. OOC: @Void Emissary @BULiK

IC: Solan Iudex "What, like piratin' and all that?" He itched again at his prickly chin. "I set a few on fire once. Two? Yeah." Another cigarette lit itself, almost unconsciously in his hands, as he finally regarded the stoic Skakdi beside Gunner with a scowl. "What's your problem, slugcatcher?" OOC: @BULiK @Void Emissary

IC: Solan Iudex Solan's expression stretched as if Gunner had asked him what cooked Mahi was. "Any ya mighta HEARD OF?! Why there was...you know, that time when...when that..." He stared for a moment, desperately trying to recall any such events besides the ones he really didn't want to tell either of the men in front of him about. "...Well, I mean, I sunk that Lesterin brigade off the coast of Ga that time. And Echelon, 'ad him for breakfast too." It wasn't technically lying if you didn't know it was true or not. "I'm not lyin'." He said, to affirm that point. "Just no work around here for warborn like me. Everyone's all "shoot this lad" or "break this guy's kneecaps". Nothing like a good war." He paused, having glanced at the piece of parchment in his hands idly for a second. "...Ah." OOC: @Void Emissary @BULiK

IC: Solan Iudex - Introduction at the 'Dancing Crab' He looked taken aback as Gunner stated his actual name. "Gunner? The karz you let 'em call you that for?" The Toa scratched at a horn, before getting up out of his chair. "Ah, it doesn't matter none. Just would pummel a Skakdi to get some widgets. Not that I'm desperate or anything. A man's gotta earn." He looked oddly forlorn, putting an unlit cig behind one of his horns. "That train crew, the Foe-woddy, I'm sure they'll appreciate a visit from a legend in his prime." Solan muttered, starting to move to leave somewhat rudely. OOC: @Void Emissary @BULiK

IC: Solan Iudex - Introduction at the 'Dancing Crab' "Huh?" He frowned. "I'd figure a lad of your stature would recognise the God Warrior when you see 'em, Tiribomba." The Toa finally stubbed the cigarette out on his knee, tossing it aside a surprisingly fair distance. The leathery back of his hand wiped across his face as he sniffed the air. "Everyone's... got a bloody short term memory these days, hmph. But Solan Iudex lives. Even if they all forgot." Hazy blue irises bored into the wall past both the two boatmen. Was he contemplating, or just spaced out? As was usually the case with Solan, it was a bit of both. OOC: @Void Emissary@BULiK

IC: Ela Latos "Yes. Let's." She took Kiyaku's hand, rising up to her full height again. OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Solan Iudex - Introduction at the 'Dancing Crab' "Women." He chortled to himself, coughing in the process loudly. Several people turned to stare for a moment. "Nah, I dunno. Too hot here. Maybe the Marines'll take me. Sentinels told me to karz off." Gunner would probably have gotten the feeling even he wasn't sure why he was going to Ga-Wahi. "I was a bloody legend. They should be karzin' ashamed!" The Toa scratched his head, snorting in the process. "Want a ciggie?" He looked to Gunner and the Skakdi, producing an ashy cardboard pack from the apparent void beneath his poncho. OOC: @BULiK@Void Emissary

IC: Ela Latos She couldn't help but be compelled. She was clearly an experienced talker, and the Lesterin could understand why her crew were loyal to her. The picture she'd painted was one that excited her, despite (or perhaps because) of the uncertainty of the end destination. She hadn't experienced serving someone else formally before - but perhaps that wasn't what Kiyaku had offered. This was simply a new path, and by the sounds, one worth following. Perhaps helping to build Lady Fursic's dreams would be what ignited that ever important fire for her. At the very least, it would be the beginning of an important friendship. And so, after she'd finished, Ela slowly drew her longsword, her long body sinking to one knee as she drove her blade into the ground in front of them both, eyes facing down in turn. "Then, my Lady...perhaps I and my blade may help you carve out that niche you seek." OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Ela Latos So, without mincing words, the Dasaka was a pirate. Although this wasn't an immediate condemnation, it did make Ela doubletake slightly. Her impressions of "privateers" and pirates were that they preyed on the weak - avoided conflict with anyone that could sink their interests - this went for mainland gangsters as well. The Skakdi back home were similar - although they admittedly were so warlike it was hard for them not to butt heads. However, were this stereotype universal, Kiyaku had obviously broken it already. She'd admitted and known that Ela was a more skilled opponent than her - and yet she'd still gone through the effort to spar with her and seen her capabilities - learn something. It also wasn't as if it was a complete shock to the senses - Ela had seen and guessed she was involved in some occupation that wasn't strictly lawful. As a vagrant, Ela wasn't far off from being a criminal either, considering how some Wahis treated wanderers. "I make it known that I stray clear of lies, so truthfully, the opportunity intrigues me. But I don't abide cruelty - I've seen what some of your ilk do and it is nothing but hedonistic violence. That doesn't intrigue me. It bores me - and it disgusts me." Her eyes were locked straight onto the Dasaka's, and she'd made sure every single word was crystal clear. "Are you different, Lady Fursic?" OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Solan Iudex - Introduction at the 'Dancing Crab' And so, he scratched his scratchy chin, trying to think up why he might have walked up to the two gentlemen, before puffing out another gust of smoke, which floated back to him thanks to Gunner's influence over the wind - not that he really seemed to notice. "Either of you got any widges on ya? Need to catch the next train...think I got a strokeheat. Heatstroke. Karz flyin' back like this." Without asking, he pulled a seat nearby to sit by the two of them, perched reverse with his arms folded and leaning on the back of the chair. "Or a boat. Whichever's quickest to Ga." OOC: @Void Emissary @BULiK

IC: Ela Latos An eyebrow raised. "...An offer?" OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Ela Latos That awkward smile again. She immediately outstretched an arm as Kiyaku requested, gently helping her to her feet. "Had you come across me in battle, you'd likely have bested me. But you keeping the odds fair was noble. I've learned much already." She breathed in, standing up straight and tall again. "But what you use, it's a wellspring, no? I suppose I have only treaded shallow waters." "An oasis is a sea, for the Po-Matoran." Ela mused. "A local saying." OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Solan Iudex - Introduction at the 'Dancing Crab' (With the Vika crew!) A puff of the worst tobacco Gunner and Frii'Glokk had ever smelled in their lives clouded up inbetween them, as a man somewhat idly stood by them, giving Frii'Glokk's thousand bio stare a run for its money. He looked like an beaten ash bear wearing a Kanohi. He was, however, clutching something in the hand that wasn't holding his cigarette - a slightly rumpled parchment with a several spots of browning and even a hole inbetween one of the letters. He seemed to have his eyes on the table between the two patrons, scratching his dirty padded trousers. This carried on for a minute until the Toa spoke up. "Neither of you called something out to me or anything, right?" Solan stuck the ciggie in his mouth for now, finally breaking his stare to take looks at the two sat across from one another. OOC: @BULiK @Void Emissary

IC: Ela Latos She shook her hand off, gasping ever so slightly from the wind previously sustained, and sheathing her weapon for the time being. She'd hit her hard, intentionally so, but not enough to harm her severely. It had been a long time - years, even - that she'd been that shaken by an opponent's abilities. She'd of course met many challenges but none that attacked her game plan so close to the bone, not for a while. And this was likely only the tip of the iceberg - she'd probably gotten lucky in being able to incapacitate her. But that didn't mean the lesson taught was devalued. Just that there was more to come. The woman knelt down beside the Menti, clicking her fingers in front of her eyes to check she was still conscious. A smile had subliminally crept across her face as the possibilities of the future streamed through her brain. Hopefully she wasn't out for long. OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Ela Latos She narrowed all of her internal conflicts into one crystallized thought, a lighthouse in the sea of uncertainty: Could she still move? Her eyes glowed as the elbow hit her, as the Menti would expect, but the Lesterin was, as Kiyaku had correctly assessed, much faster than her, and her body rolled around the blow to the left, minimizing the wind taken out of her just enough for her to retaliate; a large hand balled up into a fist shot wide, but strong, at Kiyaku's cheek. OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Ela Latos - Fighting the feeling This time, the Lesterin did not have the willpower to distrust the pain - in fact, in the moment, she had no chance to even consider it. Her body reacted involuntarily, her eyes opening and her lungs gasping, as she hopped back, a free hand immediately pressing a finger to her brow. She'd made the wrong call, hadn't she? How stupid could she be, to toss aside her own instinct? She felt blood trickle down her finger, drip from her chin... The opening had been earned by Kiyaku, if only for a moment, as Ela's hesitation stalled reaction. OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Ela Latos - Going with her gut Even as Ela closed her eyes as her blade connected with Kiyaku's own and was deflected, the illusion was not merely visual, she felt - and heard the cutting of air as her enemy's falcata made its approach up. The only thing Ela could do was assume the the Fursic's move was to be a feint - and act before she could fool her. Instead of reacting - which felt absurdly unnatural, going against every instinct in her body and mind - she opened her eyes, trying to focus on only herself and dimming the loud stimuli bouncing around her, and instead, swinging again as Kiyaku's supposed move performed, sending the flat of her blade in a homerun swing towards where she thought the warrior's face might be - were she to do what Ela would. She wasn't sure if it would hit - but she knew it would likely startle her, even if Ela wasn't sure yet how she would follow herself up. OOC: @Krayzikk

IC: Kenji Kono - [????????] Your boat lays adrift. Fog has engulfed the ocean around you, to the extent you have no reference points for where are you are, and where you might be soon. The moon above you is the only thing that seems to penetrate the encompassing cloud. It is eerily huge tonight. You can make out the details of its surface, and you wonder for a moment what creatures may lay upon the silver floor of that ghostly orb. You consider whether they might be staring back at you. Your gaze eventually directs itself down, as your feelings are pricked. Something passively watches, you know that much. The front of your canoe draws your eye. Perched atop the edge is a small winged Rahi, perhaps a variety of Gukko, though not one you've ever observed. It moves somewhat erratically too, its wings flapping intermittently but never carrying it up. You know better than to approach it, you don't wish to scare it off. "A little late for a seabird to hunt, no?" The words carry off your lips hoarsely, but softly spoken. The first you've spoken in a stretch of time you don't even know the full length of. "Quite alive looking for a Kono." The bird squawked back, much to your shock. Despite the direction of the voice being unmistakable, you scan the fog anyway, looking for a non-existent source. Your gaze has to settle eventually, back to the black winged Rahi. It flaps its wings futilely once again. "You must be mistaken." You reply, the boat gently rocking as you shift in stance slightly. "What are you?" The Rahi tilts its head. "Dull question." It decides, hopping along the edge of the canoe closer toward you. "What are you?" Your eye twitches. The irony of you being frustrated at its evasiveness is entirely lost on you. You watch it closely, feeling the missing space between your teeth with your tongue. "If I am dead, I'd like to be judged soon, please." You say, finally, sitting back down. "Don't you know where you're going?" The bird replies, hopping down onto your knee. "I'm not so sure I care." You say, at least a partial lie. The Rahi stares you down, before seeming to shrug. "Sounds like you've been dead for a while." It says. "But no judgement comes. That's up to you. Nobody else." ...

IC: Solan Iudex - 'The Dancing Crab', Ostia "Now...I don't 'member you telling me I can't smoke in here, but regardless, if you cared that much you should have stubbed the karzin' cig out yourself. Oh, I know ya wouldn't dare. I'm just sayin'. Yeah, yeah, I'll go outside. Keep ya mask on." The bartender trying to reason with the careless veteran eventually gave up, as, midway through standing up, Solan Iudex paused and relit his cigarette, before sitting back down. Discerning whether he was acting out of genuine mental confusion or using his state as an excuse seemed a task of deduction that the Po-Matoran really wasn't prepared to perform after the long shift he just had. He simply shrugged at a few of the customers around the Su-Toa who exclaimed at Solan's sudden growing small cloud of smoke, the man periodically taking swigs from a tall glass of ale in-between his drags. Solan, both literally and figuratively, didn't know why he was here. It'd been yet another uneventful day of travel, and no opportunities for him had presented themselves, those that had, had outright rejected him. Mercenary work, of late, was highly competitive, and it was difficult for an battered fool like himself to convince any potential employers that he was fit to work in pretty much any field. He sometimes pondered guard work, but it seemed that was much more thinking and sitting around than he was really capable of doing. Though he could probably do a better job than most of the clowns that they had working already. And so, he languished. Maybe he hoped an opportunity would present itself to him, a job would fall out of the sky, to whisk him away from his troubles and downs. Perhaps even a final journey...? ... He coughed and spat as he realised he'd unintentionally bitten into his cigarette. OOC: Open for interaction

IC: Karmine Madoc - Taking Point (Iron Mahi, Carriage 1) A wise decision! I pick out a stray piece of glass in my bicep, saying some unsavoury words as it turns out to be bigger than I'd bargained for. I soon figure the effort of cleaning the trickling blood to cost more time than we have, which is all peachy. This shouldn't be too much longer. I take after a stalking Kavinika, ranged weapon raised squarely at the engine room door in front of us as I lead our hopeful trio unto the breach. I hope anyone on the other side is a coward. ... No, you don't. OOC: Opening the engine room door @Silvan Haven@Tarn@Perp@Nato G and everyone else I missed