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Reckless fun in the jungle

It's a fine day beneath the subtropical sun, deep within the scorching heart of a treacherous jungle. A team of elite operatives—Tequila, Marco, Tarma, Eri, Ralf, and Nadia—have been sent to the southern part of the Amazon Rainforest by the Regular Army for a perilous mission. Their objective is to infiltrate and dismantle a ruthless guerrilla group suspected of human trafficking, illicit arms dealing, and narcotics smuggling. Intel suggests a possible alliance with the notorious Ptolemaic Army, a terrorist cult infamous for its brutality and corrupting influence. With precision and skill, Marco and his team must track down the guerrilla group, gather crucial intel on a possible alliance with the Ptolemaic Army, and execute a swift and decisive takedown to shatter the organisation's grip on the region.

The hypervigilant Tequila leads the group with awe-inspiring courage, his grenade launcher at the ready. Marco follows closely behind, his usual stoic demeanour masking a deep longing to return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base and reunite with Perifa, whose dramatic flair he misses dearly. Eri, who had previously instructed her fellow Ptolemaic Army deserters to scout for a secret base and any suspicious activity, stands ready with her trusty explosives at hand.

Ralf is pumped for action, his senses heightened as he drinks in the jungle's symphony of natural sounds and feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire. Tarma walks alongside Marco, cracking jokes to ease the tension, but Eri and Tequila remain unamused, finding his humour unprofessional. Meanwhile, his queerplatonic partner, Marco, struggles to maintain a straight face, stifling a couple of laughs in an effort to stay focused. Ralf, however, revels in Tarma's lightheartedness, while Nadia giggles, lost in romantic thoughts of her best friend, Trevor.

Before they can proceed further, Marco suggests splitting up, a plan that Tequila endorses. Marco and Eri meticulously outline the stealth mission, assigning Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia to reconnaissance duty, tasked with identifying potential enemies and hostages. Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila will continue searching for the guerrilla group's headquarters. After a brief strategy session, the group divides: Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia head out separately from Tequila, Marco, and Eri.

As they stealthily tread through the jungle, Nadia's focus wanes, and she starts to feel restless, yearning for something more than this mission. Just in time, Ralf spots a secluded hideout, a fallen tree shrouded in dense greenery, where they can lay low for a couple of minutes. The group swiftly settles in, remaining vigilant and on high alert. Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia anxiously await any news from Marco's group via walkie-talkie, hoping to pinpoint the elusive guerrilla group's current location. Ralf and Tarma remain vigilant, scanning their surroundings for potential threats and innocent bystanders, while Nadia's gaze wanders, her attention drawn to the lush jungle foliage and beautiful birds.

As Nadia leans against the tree trunk, she pulls out a blue bubblegum ball from her square-shaped pouch adorned with kitty ears. She pops it into her mouth, chewing and savouring the sweet blueberry flavour. As her gaze continues to wander through the gorgeous sights of the Amazon Rainforest, she spots some enticing swinging vines and her lips curl into a playful smile. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she elbows Tarma…

Tarma jerks slightly, caught off guard by Nadia's elbow to his right arm. He swiftly turns to face her, his head tilted in curiosity, and asks, "Huh? What's up, Nadia?"

She nods towards the hanging vines, her grin growing bigger, and blows an impressive bubble before it pops. Tarma quietly looks at them, adjusting his red-tinted sunglasses and squinting slightly.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Nadia asks, spitting out her chewed-up blueberry bubblegum, as Tarma's smirk forms, accompanied by a low, amused chuckle.

“I so do,” he replies, flashing a charming smirk, his response coming easily and without hesitation.

He watches as Nadia stands up and joyously skips over to the vines, catching Ralf's attention. Ralf raises an eyebrow at Tarma, but before he can say a word, Tarma swiftly stands up, stretches briefly, and confidently strides over to Nadia. As Ralf's gaze follows Tarma to the hanging vines, he grasps the hint and decides to join in on the fun.

Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila are cautiously navigating the jungle, vigilant for any signs of the guerrilla group's members. They're also awaiting crucial intel from Ptolemaic Army deserters regarding the location of the group's headquarters, where their illicit operations are allegedly taking place. To pass the time, Tequila decides to strike up a conversation to break the monotony of the deafening silence. He has a strong hunch that Marco will remain his usual taciturn self, but he's certain that Eri will definitely respond.

“I hope these guys aren't affiliated with those cultish dumbasses from the Serapion Fellowship,” Tequila says, his voice dripping with disdain, his face twisted in a mix of anger and revulsion as he recalls his past run-in with the group.

“You mean the Ptolemaic Army?” Eri asks, her voice laced with disdain, accompanied by a tired scoff. “The Serapion Fellowship was decimated when the Ikari Warriors tore through them.”

“The Ikari Warriors didn't finish the job,” Tequila interjects gruffly, his tone respectful yet firm, catching Eri off guard. “My old comrades and I had to clean up the remnants. I'm telling ya, Ptolemaios and his devotees are like blind, stubborn leeches… Those motherfuckers never know when to quit!”

He pauses, fishing out a cigar from his right cargo pants pocket and lighting it with his metallic blue-green lighter. As he takes a slow drag, he eyes Eri with a hint of uncertainty, "I assume you haven't heard about the Arms Deal Barrage?"

Eri exhales a heavy sigh, her gaze dropping to the jungle soil as she falls into a silent reverie, feeling a tad foolish for nearly overlooking a seemingly insignificant event in the Regular Army’s history.

“Yup! Your Lothario son spilled all the details to me,” she replies, her voice involuntarily tinged with a chill as she crosses her arms, oblivious to the fact that Gimlet has kept a dark secret regarding the Regular Army hidden from her.

“Really?” he says gruffly, his right eyebrow shooting up in skepticism, amused by the thought of Gimlet being her informant on this particular matter.

Marco's attention is suddenly diverted by the distant shouts of thrilled excitement from a girl and a man, who enthusiastically belts out Tarzan's iconic jungle call, echoing through the air. He swiftly interrupts the conversation between Eri and Tequila, clearing his throat awkwardly, his interest piqued by something in the commotion.

“Uhhhmm… Guys, I think we have a problem,” Marco says, his voice low and serious, nodding discreetly towards the source of his concern.

“Tsk! What is—” Eri starts to say, her voice tinged with annoyance, but her words die on her lips as her jaw drops in stunned astonishment at the scene unfolding before her.

“What the fuck is happening?” Tequila exclaims, his voice laced with confusion and incredulity as he glares upward at the reckless spectacle above him, his eyes widening in shock.

Marco, Eri, and Tequila watch in stupefied awe as Nadia, Ralf, and Tarma swing from vine to vine with reckless abandon, their movements eerily reminiscent of carefree, playful monkeys. It's as if the entire jungle has become their personal playground, and they're oblivious to the fact that their unprofessional antics might jeopardise their mission. Tequila can only hope that the three impulsive adventurers don't alert any nearby enemies to their presence. Eri's right eye twitches with suppressed rage, clearly unimpressed by their foolishness. Marco lets out a deep, exasperated sigh, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head in dismay, his gaze cast downward.

“Weeeeeeeeee! This is so much fun!” Nadia squeals, her voice bursting with exuberant joy.

"You're absolutely right, gurl! This shit is amazing!" Ralf exclaims, feeling nostalgic for the good times he had with Clark on mercenary missions in the jungle.

Tarma unleashes a thunderous Tarzan yell, utterly shameless and fearless about attracting the attention of the guerrilla group members. However, his triumphant cry is abruptly cut short when he accidentally swallows a fast-moving insect, causing him to cough violently. He stops swinging from vine to vine and lands on a branch of a kapok tree, gasping for breath and reaching for his water canteen in his citron load-bearing backpack. Nadia can't help but burst out laughing at the unexpected turn of events. Meanwhile, Ralf stops by to check on Tarma, concern etched on his face.

"You okay, man?" Ralf asks, gently patting Tarma on the back with a hint of worry in his voice.

Tarma coughs some more, takes a long swig from his canteen, and clears his throat before calmly responding, "It could've been worse..."

Tarma's gaze wanders to Nadia, who’s still swinging with carefree abandon, then drops to Marco, Eri, and Tequila, clustered beneath the kapok tree's sprawling canopy, far below where he and Ralf stand. He swallows hard, the sound of his gulp audibly echoing through the air. Ralf's gaze follows, his expression contorting into an uneasy frown as his sunburst amber-sage eyes slowly lock onto Tarma.

“Maybe we should get back on track…” he suggests, wincing at the prospect of facing Eri's icy stare and scornful disapproval.

The thought of facing Clark's lecture at Sparrowhawk Operations Base makes him wince even more, especially if Eri shares the story of their impulsive escapade. Tarma silently nods and begins to carefully descend the kapok tree, using the vines for support. Ralf closely follows, keeping a watchful eye on Nadia as she continues to swing from vine to vine without a single care in the world. Her swift movements radiate pure joy, accompanied by thrilled shouts, squeals of excitement, and punctuated by a hilarious, off-key Tarzan jungle call.

After a few minutes of climbing down, Tarma and Ralf approach Marco, Eri, and Tequila, their heads hanging low in palpable shame. Marco's disapproving gaze settles on Tarma, who shifts uncomfortably, his hand drifting up to rub his upper arm in a telling sign of nervous humiliation. However, Marco's expression soon softens, his frustration easing as he realises he can't stay angrily disappointed at Tarma forever. Eri is furious with the two, her anger evident in a harsh puff of breath and her crossed arms, which seem to radiate a menacing aura. She's prepared to unleash a scathing tirade, especially once she discovers who sparked this entire debacle. Tequila appears relieved that they didn't attract unwanted attention, but his expression betrays frustration with their decision to slack off.

Luckily, Nadia soon returns from her vine-swinging escapade. However, her excitement is short-lived, a fragile vine snaps beneath her weight, sending her plummeting downwards. She lets out a blood-curdling scream, but Ralf swiftly swoops in, catching her small body in his arms. As he holds her, Nadia's trembling subsides, and she gradually calms down from the fear and exhilaration of her fall. Once she's composed, Ralf carefully sets her down on her feet, offering a reassuring pat on the back as she takes a deep, prolonged breath to calm her nerves. Now, Nadia braces herself for a scathing lecture from Eri, likely amplified by Tequila's disapproval. She fidgets with her thumbs, gazing up at the sky with an unconvincing attempt at feigning innocence.

Eri's gaze sweeps across the group, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity as she growls, "Which one of you thought it was a fucking brilliant idea to act like reckless retards in a situation like this?"

Nadia swiftly deflects the blame, her finger pointing accusingly at Tarma as she twirls her raspberry red locks with her free hand.

"Tarms is the one who started it," she claims, her tone dripping with false nonchalance.

However, Tarma's and Ralf's unflinching, deadpan gazes effectively debunk Nadia's attempt at innocence, their silent incredulity speaking volumes. Eri's hand flashes up, poised to deliver a sharp slap to Nadia's face, but Marco swiftly intervenes, firmly grasping her wrist to prevent the blow. He wisely knows that escalating the tension will only make the volatile situation worse.

Marco's expression turns stoically resolute, his brow furrowing as he sternly suggests, "Let's call a truce for now and concentrate on our mission."

Eri lets out an irritated snarl, ripping her wrist from Marco's grasp and rubbing it lightly. She turns to Tequila, seeking validation, and receives a discreet, affirming nod, signalling his agreement with Marco's suggestion. Whirling around, Eri confronts Tarma, Ralf, and Nadia with a twisted face, mocking them with a scornful snort. Deciding to lecture them later, she spins on her heel and strides away, refocusing on their mission to track down the guerrilla group's base deep in the Amazon Rainforest, hoping it's within a reachable distance. Tequila exhales a tense sigh, hastening to catch up with Eri, while Ralf follows quietly, ready to take on the guerrilla forces. Nadia falls into step behind them, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, pouting silently like a sulky child.

Tarma pulls out a cigarette from his saffron-yellow vest, and Marco retrieves a cigar from his left khaki-green army cargo pants pocket, seeking to calm his frazzled nerves. As he approaches his queerplatonic friend, Marco extracts a gilded lighter from his crimson vest pocket and kindly lights both his cigar and Tarma's cigarette.

"Nadia... She never fails to amaze me with the creative ways she manages to stir up bullshit," Marco mutters, shaking his head in amused disapproval.

Tarma's expression turns mischievous as he sarcastically remarks, "I have to admit, she's quite the firecracker."

As he speaks, Tarma accompanies his words with a soft, affectionate squeeze of Marco's right hand, eliciting a gentle smile. Marco basks in the warm, carefree presence of his best friend and recent queerplatonic partner, enjoying Tarma’s breezy attitude on life. He could linger in this cozy moment forever, but he's keenly aware that pressing matters demand their attention.

After a few moments of adoring eye contact, Marco breaks the comfortable silence with a soft clearing of his throat, and suggests, "Shall we get going?"

Tarma exhales a stream of cigarette smoke and responds with a subtle nod, then quickly falls into step beside Marco as they catch up to Eri, Ralf, and Tequila, who are already some distance ahead. The team is eager to complete their mission, apprehend the criminals, and return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base in one piece. Marco looks forward to reuniting with his calico cat, Perifa, and enjoying some snuggle time. Tarma can't wait to get back to restoring Clark's custom-built Velocette MAC motorcycle after this mission is complete.

Nadia is eager to spend quality time with Trevor and challenge him to another round of Dance Dance Revolution. Nadia is also looking forward to indulging in some of Fio's delectable baked goods. Tequila hopes that Red Eye is keeping Gimlet in line, ensuring he doesn't succumb to his typical laziness and womanising ways. Tequila and Eri can't wait to unwind with a well-deserved drink and good company back at the Sparrowhawk Operations Base, while Ralf hopes that Clark is doing well in his absence.

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THE CUTIES

Kyojuro flirting with Shuma

Updated: September 2, 2024

Reworked Character #3: Eri Kasamoto

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to abandonment, abuse, underage drinking, crime, unhealthy relationships, death, and SA.

Real name: Chizuko Kawaguchi

Alias: Memphis Bomb Princess

Occupation: Staff Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Ptolemaios’ second-in-command (formerly), and the leader of a street gang (formerly)

Retirement plans: Open up an inclusive orphanage in Hiroshima

Special skills: Orchestrating stealth missions and suppression operations, proficiency in explosives, survival techniques, lock picking, and brainwashing

Hobbies: Swimming, kickboxing, going outside to appreciate nature, thinking about her past mistakes and what she could have done better, and playing card games with her friends that include some sort of bet

Likes: Fio (views her as an older sister), Marco (views him as a brave leader who requires comfort and sympathy), pyrotechnics, aimless walks, and a keychain that was gifted to her by her ex-girlfriend

Dislikes: Blissful ignorance, overly mischievous and lazy people, being touched without permission, remembering the worst parts of her past, and Tarma (especially his stupidity and hotheadedness)

Favourite food: Vodka

Sexuality: Homoflexible sapiosexual

Gender: Female

Age: 16 (in 2022), 22 (in 2028), 24 (in 2030), 26 (in 2032), 28 (in 2034), 35 (in 2041), 37 (in 2043), 38 (in 2044), and 41 (in 2047)

Blood type: B-

Weight: 126 lbs. (57 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 6” (167.64 cm) Japanese ectomorph with an athletic, sylph-like build, broad shoulders, sand-hued skin, and top scars. She has dark brown eyes with visible bags beneath them and fingernails that are painted a metallic green. She has jet-black hair with choppy bangs that has been bleached dirty blonde and is styled in a mid-back shaggy wolf cut, often worn up in a ponytail. Eri has a jarring diagonal scar that runs from the left side of her temple, across the bridge of her nose, to her right levator scapulae muscle. She also has stab scars on the palm of her right hand, cut marks on her right forearm, the skin on her arms and shoulders have been picked at, and her legs are riddled with scrapes. She lost her left forearm in a traumatic incident, later receiving a metallic silver prosthetic replacement from Ptolemaios during her training. She dons green gold snake bite and silver jestrum piercings, and her makeup features a glittery artichoke green smoky eyeliner, light brown mascara, and a cherry blossom pink lip gloss.

Eri’s military gear consists of an olive green bandana on her head, a metal dog tag necklace with her name, and a black headset for communication with her snipers. She wears a black bra, myrtle-hued sleeveless button midriff, and a satin crimson sash. She wears a purplish-grey unbuttoned coat with ripped sleeves, four pockets, and a hidden strap compartment that holds her electrical baton. On the back of her jacket is the logo of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., which Fio kindly embroidered for her. Her purplish-grey army cargo pants were tucked into black combat boots and held up by a silver-buckled dark teal belt around her waist. She has a sheath for her combat knife and a drop leg holster for her handgun with a silencer.

She wears a black gas mask with red-tinted lenses, olive green gloves, black knee and elbow pads, and sage-streaked silver tassel earrings. She wears a keychain necklace featuring a fiery comet encircling a reddish-purple amethyst, carved into the shape of a human heart. Eri is adorned with two black steel armlets, one on each arm: the right armlet has a circular green crystal at its centre, while the left armlet has a red one. The green crystal grants her the power to unleash grey lightning, while the red crystal, forged from a fragment of Sol Dae Rokker, can summon deadly, wolf-shaped spirits that dive-bomb enemies.

Over her midriff, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. She carries around a sage green load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, grenades, fire bombs, mines, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, three canisters of gasoline, a rocket launcher, and a bottle of vodka. Her olive green waist pack, secured at the back of her belt, holds a silvery flask of vodka, a matchbox, and a compact makeup kit containing her eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. The pockets of her coat contain a pack of fruity bubblegum, a navy blue lighter, a rainbow-coloured bouncy ball, and her lucky gold Kaiki Shoho coin. Meanwhile, her cargo pants hold lockpicking tools and three boxes of cigarettes. She has worn gauze wrapped around her right forearm, a gun holster for her handgun, and a sheath for her machete. She's still in possession of a Ptolemaic Army-commissioned scoped bolt-action rifle, which is often draped over her left shoulder.

Personality: She's a vengeful, sarcastic, cynical, tomboyish leader who’s overprotective of Fio and will stop at nothing to brutally hurt anyone she perceives as a threat to her closest friend. She has a sadistic streak, evident in her peculiar habit of smearing her enemies' blood on herself to intimidate others. When focused on her military duties and protecting those she respects and cares about, she tends to neglect her own needs. Eri's outspoken and crass demeanour shows no fear in speaking her mind, telling others off, and using profanities. As a self-reliant and lonesome individual, she’s bitter and aloof towards those she dislikes and strangers. She has a tendency to engage in dishonest behaviour and manipulate situations to her advantage. When confronted about these actions, she often responds with aggressive language and contradictory arguments. She holds immense respect for the deities, particularly Sol Dae Rokker, and will go to great lengths to worship and make sacrifices to them, often using the remains of her defeated enemies..

She fearlessly rebels against anything she deems morally wrong or a life-threatening risk. With her enemies, she shows no mercy, and her military missions showcase her exceptional resourcefulness, cunning, and tactical prowess. She is capable of sympathy and offering wise advice, but her willingness to do so greatly depends on the situation and her personal connection with the individual. Eri regards her team of rebel Ptolemaic soldiers, Fio of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Marco and Trevor of the P.F. Squad, Ralf and Clark, the top dogs of the Ikari Warriors, Tequila, Red Eye, and Hyakutaro, Tyra, and Walter of Division 6 as family. She harbours significant animosity towards Tarma, seeing him as a hot-headed idiot who only causes trouble and can't take things seriously. Despite her best efforts to tolerate him, she can't help but snap at him when his silly antics go too far, he inadvertently ruins a plan, or he gets too flirtatious and physically close to Fio.

She lives with claustrophobia, mild social anxiety, insomnia, atypical depression, and borderline personality disorder. To cope with her mental health struggles, she often presents herself as highly intelligent, serious-minded, and seductive. However, when anger takes hold, her emotions can be difficult to contain, although she strives to maintain some self-control. Notably, Eri prefers not to be called by her old name, as it evokes memories of her past trauma, which she’s trying to desperately forget. She's a hardened pessimist, often appearing exhausted, yet she consistently demonstrates resilience and stubborn determination. She has immense compassion for those who endured a difficult childhood and does her best to offer comfort and support. She can't help but feel jealous towards those who have loving parents and weren't abandoned by them. When she's had too much to drink, she becomes prone to argumentativeness, physical aggression, and melancholy, and often sleepwalks.

She has a deep-seated distrust of Christianity, believing that many people hypocritically exploit God and Jesus' teachings to conceal their true intentions. She also thinks that certain Christian teachings clash with the harsh realities of life. Furthermore, she believes that God seems apathetic to humanity's well-being, watching them suffer endlessly, letting evil to continuously flourish, and restricting the potential for salvation. She holds that morality is culturally relative, and therefore, there are no universal moral laws, making it challenging to distinguish right from wrong.

In her view, human societies construct their values based on their distinct beliefs, customs, and practices, which are also influenced by social and emotional pressures. She believes that individuals have a moral obligation to protect innocent lives and uphold the goodness inherent in justice. Regarding war, she thinks it can be justified if it meets certain criteria: it’s openly declared by a governing authority, has a just cause, and aims to establish a lasting peace. She acknowledges the coexistence of life and death but does not see a clear connection between the two.

Backstory: Chizuko Kawaguchi was born on June 6, 2006 in Hiroshima, Japan. She was abandoned as an infant at the entrance of a Christian church by her parents, who had wanted a son instead of a baby girl. Her name was discovered on a piece of paper tucked inside her baby carriage. She was raised by the Christian church where she was sent to live, an institution with a strict religious environment. There, children who misbehaved were subjected to psychological reprimands. During Chizuko’s younger years, she acted out as an attention-seeking troublemaker, but was frequently punished through humiliation and isolation in a dark closet. She endured occasional physical abuse and emotional manipulation by the church orphanage staff who used the threat of eternal damnation to control her behaviour. This treatment had a profound effect on her, making her quiet, nervous, and obedient. As a result, she grew to resent the church, finding its teachings to be at odds with the harsh realities of her own life. She eventually lost faith in God, feeling that He seemed indifferent to human suffering, allowing it to persist without genuine intervention or care.

At the age of 6, Chizuko met Tarma and quickly befriended him after building a sandcastle and searching for worms under a heavy rock. This chance encounter taught her that there were kind people outside of her church community, and she had opportunities to form new connections and discover herself. She met up with Tarma a few more times until he stopped visiting Hiroshima, leaving her feeling alone and sorrowful.

Once she figured out the ways of the world, she escaped from the sanctuary of the church at the age of 12, alongside a small group of friends, eager to taste the forbidden fruit of the world. Seeking vengeance, she and her friends burned down the church orphanage in retaliation for the abuse they had endured. Most of her early life remains private. However, her invigorating and tomboyish nature lended her as a capable leader, founding a gang of street kids. They engaged in criminal activities, primarily petty theft, drug sales, weapon trafficking, and murder.

Details about this period are scarce, but it's known that Chizuko developed a fondness for vodka during this time. She would also go through a couple of romantic relationships with girls. Her first relationship was short-lived after she quickly discovered that her girlfriend was using her for financial gain. Her second relationship seemed to be going well, but it ended when her girlfriend's parents found out about her being a delinquent and forbade their daughter from seeing her again.

At 16, she reunited with Tarma after he ran away from home, inviting him to hang out and drink beer and vodka. As they caught up on each other's lives, she began to flirt and get physically close, seeing him as someone she could trust. However, Chizuko’s desire to escape the past and run away from her problems clouded her judgement. They spent many nights together, engaging in erotic activities, and she even convinced him to participate in a few crimes. But everything changed when Tarma abruptly ended things and returned home to Hokkaido. Devastated, she felt betrayed, despite having used him to fulfill her own desires and advance her gang interests. This experience explains her lingering animosity towards Tarma.

Her leadership skills and her gang had continued to grow successfully, but that success was short-lived. At 19, Hiroshima was suddenly attacked by multiple bombings from a mysterious group, resulting in the loss of thousands of lives, including her entire gang–her first true friends. This incident sent the Japanese populace into a deep state of panic and uncertainty. In the chaos, she also suffered a devastating injury, losing her left forearm. With quick thinking, she managed to improvise a tourniquet by tearing the sleeves of her medium-sleeved shirt and stemming the bleeding.

While treating her injury, she was approached by a brown-haired, grey-eyed woman wearing the attire of a Ptolemaic guerilla. This guerrilla fighter didn't want to leave Chizuko behind, knowing she would feel terrible if left alone. So, she convinced Chizuko to come with her to meet up with Ptolemaios. Chizuko was hesitant at first, but with no other options, she took the opportunity. The guerrilla introduced herself as Emily Kuznetsova, and Chizuko decided to adopt a new name: Eri Kasamoto.

Unbeknownst to her, Ptolemaios had been observing Eri for some time, recognizing her potential as a valuable asset for his army. He took steps to provide her with specialised training to enhance her skills in espionage and further develop her militant abilities. Once she received a sufficient amount of training, he wasn't hesitant to make her his second-in-command, which stirred some jealousy amongst the commanding officers of the Ptolemaic Army. On his behalf, she was responsible for multiple stealth missions to further the technological advancement of the Ptolemaic Army.

During this time, she developed a close relationship with Emily, spending significant time together. Ptolemaios perceived this as a potential obstacle to his goals and sought to eliminate Emily. Emily's death was staged to appear as a suicide, with the circumstances surrounding it unclear. Eri was even sexually assaulted by a few commanding officers as Ptolemaios hoped that this would instill more fear in her and deter her from leaving. However, these two events had a profound impact on Eri, leading to feelings of grief and anger, and prompting her to re-evaluate her involvement with the Ptolemaic Army. She assembled a group of individuals who shared her desire to challenge Ptolemaios' authority. The group consisted of six guerrilla troops: Mikuláš, Ji-Yeong, Konrad, Dezső, Sipho, and Harvie; four snipers: Amilcare, Diomedes, Souma, and Manouel; and eight special forces operatives: Kemalettin, Jaroslavas, Dermot, Agenor, Shelomit, Franjo, Prabhakar, and Radovan.

During their fight against the Ptolemaic Army, they caused major setbacks and killed off many soldiers and cultists. As Eri fought against Ptolemaios, she learned that he was responsible for conducting the terrorist bombings in Hiroshima. She tried to end his life, but felt a malevolent presence stopping her from doing so, forcing her and her rebel Ptolemaic soldiers out of Ptolemaios' compound in Osaka, Japan. Shortly after this time, she ripped off the sleeves of her purplish-grey coat to use as tourniquets for a couple of her men. She also chose to acquire her top scars, her way of trying to forget the past, reject social norms placed on women and girls, and embrace her true identity.

At the age of 22, she and her team decided to apply for military service, working under the Intelligence Agency as a formidable group of agents. Eri made a name for herself in numerous missions, earning a reputation as a vengeful leader amongst the Regular Army. However, she began to feel increasingly disillusioned by the constant assassinations and conspiracies that weighed on her conscience, reminding her of her time with the Ptolemaic Army. She applied for a transfer to S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., which was specially approved due to her exceptional record, indispensable skills, and intimate knowledge of the Ptolemaic Army's inner workings.

As the demolition and stealth expert of S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Eri led her rebel Ptolemaic soldiers with immense success. She befriended Fio and felt an instant, deep connection after a few interactions, viewing Fio as the sister she never had and vowing to protect her at all costs. She played a crucial role in the Great Morden War by providing Marco's team with explosives, emergency rations, and valuable intel on Rebel Army positions through stealthy infiltration. Eri showcased her advanced combat and leadership skills by helping to thwart Morden's second coup, which was aided by her team, Fio, Tarma, and Marco.

i— uhh, i drew another posené but in regency era because weeks ago i’m so head over heels again after bridgerton season 2 is out 😞☝🏻

ps. hit me up if you watch bridgerton too, bec it has been my obsession since its season 1, esp if you noticed which scene it is 👀

Loki stuck in a Glue Trap

Sorry if this is bad 😭😭

Confusion struck Sora when she spotted Thor and Loki strolling through the corridors. Loki cast a sidelong glance at Sora, who was hovering next to Thor's head, as she approached them and inquired about the situation.

"I'm not sure, but it seems like my uncle needs to talk to us." Loki cheerfully clarified, and Sora glanced at Thor to confirm that he was nodding in agreement.

Thor and Loki began strolling back to the corridor to visit Odin; Sora wanted to join them, but it appears she was not invited, leaving her bored. Izzy noticed Sora staring at the hall, which perplexed her maid, so she tapped Sora on the shoulder, asking if there was an issue. Sora turned to look at her maid, smiled at her and apologized. While Sora and her maid were conversing, an idea suddenly occurred to her, and a tiny smile spread across her face.

“I want to prank Loki but with what.” Sora spoke in a quiet tone causing her maid to hear it. The maid told Sora to not do it, Sora calmed her down.

When she finally got an idea for a practical joke, she asked her maid if they had any rat glue trapped. The maid was taken aback but nodded, leading her to the cupboard where the bag of glue death trapped was kept. After spotting some tape on a shelf and taking the traps from her maid to the corridor where the meeting is being held, Sora gently opened the box and assembled the contents into a large rectangle large enough to contain Loki. In order to prevent her hair from being caught in the traps, she pulled it back into a bun before removing the wrappers. As the door opened, Sora heard it, grabbed her maid's hand, and pulled herself behind the wall. They both looked up in time to see Loki emerge, his attention fixed on hearing Thor and Odin realize that his foot was trapped in the trap. After tripping over the glue trap on his side, Loki became enraged and demanded to know who did it, which caused Sora to burst out laughing.

Please! How did you get duped by this? Sora spoke out loud while still giggling and gasping for air.

When Thor and Odin noticed that Loki was stuck in the glue trap, they both passed over him and left him there. When Sora questioned if they wanted Loki gone, Odin’s birds were enraged and told her to leave him alone. Shocked, she followed them, leaving the furious Loki behind.

Shuma Hagane

I had to redesign and rename my demon slayer oc because I wasn’t happy with the name Jitsuko and the design of the oc

(click/tap keep reading to view details)

Reworked Species #2: Tuatha Dé Danann

Unfortunately, little information has been preserved about the history, culture, behaviours, and capabilities of the Tuatha Dé Danann. However, it’s known that they thrived during the Hadean Eon, a time marked by the emergence of life, and possessed technology far superior to that of modern humanity. This society of demigods was renowned for their impressive naval prowess and vast knowledge, reflecting their diverse talents and interests.

The Tuatha Dé Danann created intricate hieroglyphic drawings on portable pieces of green jasper, red garnet or obsidian, highlighting them with fool's gold or mercury. These drawings depicted ancient deities, such as the Avatar of Evil, and are often referred to as the Rosetta Stones.

The Tuatha Dé Danann are believed to possess an infinite amount of knowledge, encompassing even forbidden lore, but this intellectual capacity diminishes with each successive generation of descendants. As their DNA is diluted, their heirs retain only a hint of the Tuatha Dé Danann's extraordinary cognitive abilities, allowing them to hold more knowledge than the average human but not to the same extent as their ancestors. Notably, the Tuatha Dé Danann lived long enough to intermarry with fully evolved humans, sparking controversy among the older generations. The older generations viewed such unions as a taint on their genetic lineage, regarding themselves as a superior species whose physical and mental purity was paramount.

They can effortlessly distinguish between their own kind, including those who possess Tuatha Dé Danann DNA, and beings from other species through a peculiar tingling sensation of familiarity. Legend has it that they occasionally or frequently glimpse a pair of glowing red eyes watching them from darkened corners or shadowy places. They interpret this as a guardian carefully observing and assessing their moral actions. However, their descendants often find this unsettling with some believing they are being haunted by a restless spirit, while others suspect they are merely hallucinating. Sometimes, they're drawn into certain places, enticed by an aura of curiosity, a commanding presence or the echoing whispers of safety and growth.

They're immune to debilitating illnesses and were once prolific wielders of powerful magic, controlling the weather, elements, and earth's fertility. With this magic, they could shapeshift themselves and objects into animals and people, become invisible by hiding in a mist, and bring doom upon those who committed heinous acts against the divine and the law. However, descendants of the Tuatha Dé Danann have lost the ability to wield this magic as modern society has forgotten the secrets of harnessing and maintaining such an arcane force.

Beliefs

Although their specific beliefs and values are not well-documented, they are largely centred around animism, enlightenment, salvation, and cultural preservation. They held key values such as honour, courage, mastery of survival skills, overall health, compassion, creativity, and wisdom. Moreover, they believed it was their responsibility to aid in the physical and technological evolution of all life forms and reset the timeline when destruction seemed imminent. Some believe in the transformative power of human emotions and physical capabilities.

They held immense respect for the deities, preparing exquisite festivals, large feasts, worship ceremonies, and moral laws inspired by their unique principles. They hold a profound belief in the sacredness of the land, recognizing a collective responsibility to protect it from desecration and preserve its integrity. As stewards of the natural world, they strive to maintain harmony among the five elements: earth, air, fire, water, and quintessence. Embracing the cyclical nature of life, they accept and respect the phases of birth, growth, decay, and rebirth, working to maintain the delicate balance of the natural order.

Appearance

It's commonly believed that the Tuatha Dé Danann bore a striking resemblance to humans, but with distinct physical differences. They were remarkably tall, with males standing at an impressive 9’ 4” (284.48 cm) and females reaching approximately 8’ 10” (269.24 cm). Their physiques were characterised by lean builds, prominent muscles, and a proportionate amount of body fat. Their hair reportedly came in varying shades of black and blonde, while their eyes ranged in hues of blue and cyan. They have a pale complexion, but most experience a dulling of their skin hue as they grow older with age.

Warriors often adorned themselves with vibrant markings: they bleached the skin of their faces, torsos, arms, and lower legs with woad, giving them a bluish appearance. They also used Murex snail dye to create swirling patterns or claw-like marks on their faces, chests, and arms, which appeared purple. Additionally, they dyed their hair with madder red dye, and if they had longer hair, they braided it.

Tuatha Dé Danann rulers are always born with distinctive physical characteristics, including either python-like legs, a wolf’s head, a winding, serpentine fish tail or the lower half of a horse.

The exact nature of their attire is unknown, but it’s believed to have been crafted from luxurious materials such as silks, satins, linens, and animal pelts. Their jewellery was adorned with gemstones, precious metals, and ornate pieces made from animal teeth and bones. Notably, their armour was forged from a mysterious material known as adamant, a semi-magnetic rock infused with hardened steel, renowned for its exceptional strength and durability, surpassing even that of diamond.

Known Locations

Atlantis is said to be buried deep within the centre of the Atlantic Ocean. According to legend, the fabled civilization of the Hadean Eon was lost to the depths after its ruler succumbed to hubris and attempted to conquer humanity or prematurely reboot life itself with the aid of the Alator. The city's architecture is characterised by a series of concentric islands, separated by expansive moats and linked by a winding canal that culminates in a central hub: a towering structure featuring labyrinthine hallways, prismatic stone, and an altar adorned with ancient deity caricatures.

Some believe that Atlantis houses ancient technology infused with psionic energy and holds the knowledge of the deities. A few also speculate that it will rise up from the Atlantic Ocean during a rare and ominous blood moon event, rumoured to last for seven days, potentially initiating the apocalypse.

Ultima Thule is a remote tundra island located northwest of the Orkney Islands, frequently visited by whale and orca families. The island experiences the extreme phenomena of polar night and midnight sun. Despite its fertile soil and abundant fields, capable of supporting crops and fruits, Ultima Thule is uninhabited. Regrettably, the island has been exploited as a dumping site for trash, discarded vehicles, and defunct machinery, leading to its notorious moniker, Scrap Island. It secretly harbours the remains of a deceased extraterrestrial deity and antediluvian, faulty technology of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

It's believed that Ultima Thule was once a multifaceted hub, featuring large greenhouses for agriculture, mines for fossil fuels, precious metals, and gemstones, and sanctuaries that housed libraries, lavish bathhouses, and comfy homes for the elderly. Additionally, the area hosted various winter sports to test physical strength and agility, survival skills, instinctive reflexes, and mental strategies.

Technology

Little is known about their technological capabilities, but it’s believed that they were the result of a fusion of advanced mechanics, cutting-edge bioengineering, and mystical wizardry. Some of their technology is said to be capable of creating devastating weapons unparalleled on Earth, generating new land masses and life forms (including clones), and even tearing rifts in the space-time continuum.

Atlantis contains the Alator, a 200-million-year-old information-gathering device, and the Lugus Lieu, a biomechanical tower giant that serves as the Alator's core. The Alator is employed to accelerate the evolution of cultures and life forms, but it inevitably self-destructs when accessed by an individual of Tuatha Dé Danann lineage, resetting the timeline and perpetuating an eternal cycle of repetition.

They were in possession of data discs attached to copper-hued adamant vambraces, comprising three sections that are adorned with an encircling, shaky line pattern and outlined with gold accents to demarcate each section. The data discs themselves are rimmed with pearlescent adamant and centred with a floating rhomboid piece of green jasper. These devices are capable of generating an impenetrable shield, manifesting as yellow-orange and saffron octagonal waves, for defensive purposes. Additionally, they can emit purplish-white laser projectiles for long-range offence.

Reworked Group #1: Rebel Army

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, fanaticism, drug usage, and SA.

History

It emerged from multiple terrorist groups that began to form near the start of the 21st century, fueled by rapid technological advancements and escalating violence. For most of the past 20 years, these groups lacked cohesion and were merely a nuisance to the Regular Army, who didn't consider them a significant threat. However, everything changed in 2023 when the Central Park bombing claimed the lives of Field Marshal Donald Morden's wife and daughter, forever altering the course of events.

He was deeply disturbed by this news and learned that the Regular Army had opportunities to prevent the tragedy, but failed to do so. He attributed this failure to systemic issues within the government and military. Following a period of personal struggle and disillusionment, he resigned and eventually disappeared from public view, accompanied by a group of loyal troops who admired him as a leader.

Behind closed doors, Morden began to slowly build up his army, establishing a unique structure for his military organisation and specialised divisions such as the Japanese Infantry and Arabian Infantry. He even acquired ancient technology that had once belonged to his ancestors, the Tuatha Dé Danann. Most of his troops were genetically enhanced using Tuatha Dé Danann technology from the Hadean Eon, which explains why many of them shared a pale complexion and identical physical characteristics—the varying shades of black and blonde hair, and eyes that ranged from deep blue to vibrant cyan. Additionally, Morden consolidated multiple existing terrorist groups into his army and secretly procured some military technology from the Regular Army.

They prove to be more than a match for the Regular Army, boasting horrifyingly vast and varied resources as well as legions of fanatically loyal infantry equipped with an array of weapons beyond imagination. Their troops are known for their devotion to duty, but have been observed to flee when faced with a particularly dire situation. Although their ranks appear endless and their weapons are brutally effective, some of their arsenal seems somewhat outdated. Furthermore, their combat skills and strategies are arguably less sophisticated than those employed by the Regular Army.

In 2026, the Rebel Army emerged, revealing itself as a military organisation. Led by General Donald Morden, the Rebel Army launched a series of coups aimed at purging the government and military of corruption. However, Morden's ambition was tainted by a megalomaniacal desire for global domination. Despite suffering numerous defeats at the hands of elite forces, including the Peregrine Falcons Squad, S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Ikari Warriors, and Division 6, the Rebel Army remained resolute in their goal to expose the corruption within all governments and military forces. They have gone to extreme lengths to achieve their objective, forging alliances with the Amadeus Syndicate, Keribhalum Army, and Ptolemaic Army.

Insignia

It features a white circle, outlined in scarlet, with a black dragon at its centre. The dragon's wings are outstretched, and it grasps a human skull with its sharp claws.

Uniforms

Cadet Uniform

They wear a champagne-hued sleeveless shirt, paired with a light grey armband featuring the Rebel Army insignia. Over the shirt, they wear a short-sleeved jacket with an olive green, terracotta, and sandy beige camouflage pattern. This jacket has four pockets for storage and two hidden strapped compartments. Their headgear consists of a black beret with a scarlet stripe and a white stripe, and a rolled light grey neckerchief secured with a woggle. They also wear a dark brown utility belt for carrying essential gear, sandy beige army cargo shorts, and knee and elbow pads with the same camouflage pattern as the jacket.

Commanding Officer Uniform

They wear a feldgrau military coat with the Rebel Army insignia emblazoned on the left side, adorned with silvery epaulets and gilded aiguillettes featuring rhomboid-cut reddish amethyst pieces. The coat has dark green cuffs and a rise-and-fall collar, a silver-white eight-button front, and a scalloped rear vent. Their attire is completed with a red-violet necktie, crimson gloves, navy blue trousers, and charcoal grey jackboots. On their head, they wear an Imperial Italic-style helmet, embellished with alternating black and yellow plumes.

Special Forces

They wear dark green gas masks with orange-tinted lenses and an industrial tube connected to a bulky metallic grey air tank with three light blue stripes centred on it, which is strapped to their shoulders. They wear olive green gloves, a coffee brown Kevlar vest, beige combat boots with crimson spiked soles, and a gilded armband bearing the insignia of the Rebel Army. Their uniform consists of saffron-yellow, navy blue, and black camo army cargo pants and field tunic, featuring a luxor gold collar and four front patch pockets with scalloped flaps and pleats.

Their coffee brown belt, adorned with a gilt-brass buckle, features seven black pouches for ammunition and a scarlet waist pack containing basic medical supplies, such as bandages. They carry olive green rucksacks bearing the Rebel Army insignia, containing a wide range of supplies, including tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, canteens filled with water, weapons, additional medical supplies, gas masks, and walkie-talkies.

Bodyguards

They wear bulky, neurally-controlled exosuits with a dark, iridescent nanoceramic coating, providing adaptive protection and augmented mobility. The suit features AI-driven strength amplification, thermal regulation, and self-healing joints for unparalleled flexibility. Their armour is complemented by a holographic visor helmet emblazoned with the Rebel Army's insignia, equipped with a neural interface offering real-time tactical projections and voice command. They don a chromatic gas mask with retinal implants, granting enhanced low-light vision, dual nano-filter mounts, and a voice modulator encircled by fractal-patterned, silver-nanowire spikes.

Their integrated load-bearing backpack stores additional supplies, including ammunition, medical kits, tactical gear (e.g. smoke grenades), rations, and hydration pack. Underneath their exoskeletons, the bodyguards wear a tactical, high-coverage ballistic bodysuit made from a dense, flexible kevlar-latex hybrid material. Their bodysuits are a deep, rich scarlet colour and feature strategically integrated, articulated padding at the shoulders, elbows, and knees.

They’re primarily armed with a Mauser C96 pistol for close-quarters engagement, FG 42 rifle for versatile, high-accuracy firepower, and an MG 42 machine gun with bipod foregrip for sustained, heavy suppressive fire. The Mauser C96 can be equipped with an extended magazine and silencer attachment, the FG 42 features a telescopic sight and folding stock, and the MG 42 boasts a high-capacity drum magazine and quick-change barrel system.

Land Troops

Troops in woodland areas wear a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) featuring a brown, beige, and olive green camouflage pattern, which holds ammunition and their walkie-talkie. They wear earthy green army cargo pants with two additional pockets on the back and tunics with a six-button bronze front closure. They also wear an earthy green ballistic helmet, a ruddy brown belt with a bronze buckle, dark green paratrooper boots, and a fern-hued armband bearing the Rebel Army insignia. They wear dark green bandoliers that form an X-shape, holding additional ammunition. They carry moss-green load-bearing backpacks with reinforced webbing and waterproof linings, containing supplies provided by special forces such as water purification tablets, emergency shelters, and high-calorie rations.

Troops in snowy areas wear a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) featuring a white, frosty grey, and pale blue camouflage pattern, which holds ammunition and their walkie-talkie. They wear snow-drab army cargo pants with two additional pockets on the back and insulated tunics with a six-button silver front closure. They also wear a snow-drab ballistic helmet, steel grey belt with a silver buckle, and an azure armband bearing the Rebel Army insignia. They wear black paratrooper boots lined with warm polar bear fur and equipped with crampons, which provide traction on icy ground.

They carry arctic white tactical backpacks with black accents and reinforced insulation, containing supplies provided by special forces such as thermal blankets, emergency bivvy sacks, and high-energy rations. They carry spiky riot shields made of blue-grey metal, rimmed with a scarlet stripe and a black stripe. Additionally, they carry a bluish-white canister on their back containing ice mist, which enables them to launch shards and spikes of ice at enemies.

Troops in desert areas wear a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) featuring a sandy beige, terracotta, and light grey camouflage pattern. They wear khaki army cargo pants with two additional pockets on the back and tunics with a six-button brass front closure. They wear a khaki ballistic helmet, light brown bandanas that cover their necks, and ivory-hued ponchos adorned with the Rebel Army insignia on the back. They also wear a reddish-grey belt with a brass buckle, tan leather paratrooper boots, and a dusty brown armband bearing the Rebel Army insignia. They wear three reddish-grey bandoliers with two forming an X-shape across their chest, holding ammunition, and a third one positioned above their belt, holding sticks of dynamite. They carry dune-beige tactical backpacks with built-in hydration bladders and MOLLE attachments, containing supplies provided by special forces such as water purification tablets, desert survival kits, and emergency rations.

Troops who operate as fanatics are required to wear a black sheath or drop leg holster for their combat knife or electrical baton and carry their improvised weapons, including fireworks, rolling bombs, and hammers, in their backpacks.

Troops who operate as grenade throwers are required to wear a crimson waist pack and seven belt pouches, each filled with grenades.

Troops who operate as bazooka wielders are required to carry an anti-tank weapon that closely resembles the American M1 Bazooka, but is emblazoned with the Rebel Army insignia. They serve as the backbone of General Morden's ground forces regiment.

Troops who operate as shielded soldiers are required to carry simple riot shields made of grey metal and wield a machete alongside a Desert Eagle-designed pistol. They slash at enemies with their machete when they get too close or shoot them with their pistol when they're out of machete range.

Troops who operate as vehicle drivers are required to carry a rocket launcher capable of firing homing missiles. Once the vehicle they were operating has been taken down, they fire one or two shots before fleeing.

Troops who operate as minelayers are required to wear a gilded or silvery drop leg holster for their combat knife and carry mines in their backpacks. Once a mine has been laid, they often flee or launch a frenzied attack against their enemies.

Troops who operate as bikers for the Rebel Army Bike Squad are required to wear grip-enhancing greyish-brown gloves, glossy black combat boots, and bronze-plated goggles. They utilise two different types of motorbikes, the Micka Horn and Thunder Moto, for quickly reaching their destination or attacking alongside moving vehicles. Sidecar bikers have an attached sidecar with a trooper carrying either a bazooka that fires homing missiles or a highly reliable automatic rifle. Fanatic bikers perform wheelies with their motorbike and will jump off when close to an enemy, allowing the motorbike to crash into the enemy. Missile bikers have a large missile secured to their back with three ropes; when ready, they’ll detonate it, sacrificing themselves in the process and launching a massive fireball.

Troops who operate as snipers are required to carry rifles that closely resemble the Mauser Karabiner 98k, along with a crimson waist pack for their special ammunition. These rifles have a slow rate of fire and are surprisingly unreliable, often jamming after only a few shots.

Troops who operate mortars are the light artillery of the army, being required to bombard oncoming enemies with high-explosive mortar rounds.

Troops who operate as Gatling soldiers are required to carry a heavy minigun with a back-mounted ammo supply. Due to the intense recoil, rapid overheating, and high ammo expenditure, they only fire in short bursts. Their large ammo containers, made of dark grey metal, are designed to withstand several shots.

Troops who operate as flamethrower soldiers are required to carry flamethrowers connected to canisters containing flammable induction particles, which enable them to control the shape and direction of their attacks.

Marine Troops

Troops wear a specially designed mottled grey and blue camouflage wetsuit, featuring a horizontal front zip and a hood with an integrated communication earpiece pocket. They wear durable flippers with rugged spikes in a rusty orange finish, which provide stability and traction on underwater terrain. Their underwater goggles are plated with durable copper and brass for corrosion resistance and clear visibility. Finally, they wear bronze-hued, waterproof gloves, ensuring dexterity and protection while handling equipment in wet conditions.

Troops who operate as rocket divers are required to hold a giant missile on their back. They're often positioned in medium-depth waters, sneaking up on enemies before jumping out of the water and tossing their rockets at them. The camouflage wetsuits of rocket divers have a bright yellow sheen, and they use a self-contained underwater breathing apparatus connected to two bulky air tanks.

Troops who operate as marine divers are required to carry an oil drum on their back, strapped to their shoulders by sturdy rope, which is fitted with explosive charges. The camouflage wetsuits of marine divers have a reddish-black sheen, and they wear rebreathers that allow them to reach a depth of 2,000 feet (609.6 metres).

Troops who operate as cannon divers are required to carry bazooka-styled cannons, utilise flotation devices or life preservers, and hide under bridges and cliffs to wait in ambush for their enemies. The camouflage wetsuits of cannon divers have a greyish-green sheen, but some of them wear only white boxers with crimson spots beneath their flotation gear.

Aerial Troops

Troops who operate as pilots wear fire-resistant Oxford blue flight suits, adorned with multiple pockets for storing essential gear. A transparent plastic pocket on the thigh holds aeronautical charts, while a built-in utility belt features a drop leg holster for their combat knives. They wear oxygen masks and helmets with communication speakers and bronze-plated goggles to ensure clear visibility and are equipped with night vision mode. They don steel-toed muddy brown safety boots with ankle support and flotation collars that automatically inflate in water.

Their uniforms are completed with woollen champagne-hued scarves, each featuring two scarlet stripes at both ends, and lapis lazuli blue armbands bearing the Rebel Army insignia. They carry desert tan load-bearing backpacks containing supplies provided by special forces, including survival radios, high-intensity flashlights, signal flares, aeronautical compasses, and whistles.

Troops who operate as special airborne soldiers comprise the female units of the aerial division. They don a cutting-edge, neuro-linked exosuit in a sleek, obsidian blue finish, reinforced with adaptive, impact-absorbing smart materials. The suit is integrated with a motorised helicopter backpack, enabling seamless transitions between ground and air operations. Advanced, high-resolution optics are embedded in the sleek, silver mirrored piloting goggles, providing real-time data overlays, low-light enhancement, and AI-assisted navigation. A compact, high-pressure air supply system is mounted on the chest plate, incorporating advanced oxygen recycling and CO2 scrubbing technology for extended high-altitude missions.

Beneath their exoskeleton, they don a sleek black tactical jumpsuit crafted from high-strength, bullet-resistant latex, reinforced with strategic padding at vital joints. Over this, they wear a ruggedized, tan-coloured MOLLE vest, equipped with four utility pouches. These soldiers are armed with either a portable Gatling gun or an AR-10, which fire homing missiles. Additionally, they wear a sturdy waist belt holding six canisters of flammable acid and eight smoke bombs, which can be thrown at their enemies.

Vehicles

Combat Vehicles

Type-2 Di-Cokka

Type-3 Bull Chain

Type-4 Girida-O

Type-5 Iron Iso

T-2B Melty Honey

Shoe & Karn

M-15A Bradley

Big Shiee

LV Armor

Iron Nokana

Formor

Rebel Gigant

Tani Oh

Iron Sentinel

Aircraft

R-Shobu

MH-6J Masknell

Tetsuyuki

Flying Tara

Eaca-B

The Keesi

The Keesi Mk. III

Hairbuster Riberts

Hi-Do

Naval Vessels

Jet Hammer-Yang

Hammer-Yang

U25U

Mini-Sub 88

Hozmi

Support Vehicles

MV-280B

Nop-03 Sarubia

MG-36

3-ton Utility Truck

Landseek

M-3 Rocket Launch Support Van

Dararin Dara Dara

Mini-Bata

Kaladgolg

Walking Locomotive

Vigilance

Balor

Laser Drone

Metal Mole

Spider Droid

Supervisory Cameras

Rebel Walkers

Jupiter King

Dragon Nosuke

Biological Weapons

Mutated Soldiers

Flying Killers

Enormous Moray

Working Machines

Chowmein-Congas

Ohumein-Congas

Aeshi Nero

Miscellaneous

Cabracan

Fall Climber

Rebel Army Base

The Fortress of Neuschwanstein serves as the strategic headquarters for Rebel Army operations and the residence of General Morden, who inherited this ancestral estate from his royal lineage. This medieval Romanesque castle features sturdy stone walls, eight round towers, semi-circular arches, barrel vaults, narrow windows, a grand hall, and a central courtyard. Four large dark red banners, emblazoned with the Rebel Army insignia, flank the castle on all four sides, while advanced surveillance and monitoring networks secure the interior.

The grand hall, known as the Command Center, boasts a large fireplace, a circular rosewood table, a gilded throne with a turquoise-dotted crimson seat cushion, and fifty mahogany business chairs, where General Morden's strategic command team convenes, supported by communication arrays and a holographic map of the world. The central courtyard boasts a fountain showcasing a unique four-winged angel with the head of a crocodile, carrying a water jug, while a crowned swan follows closely behind. The courtyard is surrounded by lush greenery and vibrant flower beds, adorned with a variety of blooms, including foxgloves, delphiniums, peonies, clematis, honeysuckles, lavender, sunflowers, dahlias, and castor oil plants.

The castle features a stunning chapel adorned with vibrant stained-glass windows, depicting angels with magnificent wings, shown assisting humans and battling demons. It also boasts a sunny retreat for General Morden, a vast library housing a diverse collection of manuscripts and books across various genres, and a kitchen accompanied by a well-stocked pantry. Additional facilities include a dungeon designated for holding special prisoners, an infirmary for medical care, a bathhouse for relaxation, and a gatehouse for secure entry and exit. 

General Morden's personal quarters include a private office, a situation room, a secure storage facility for his personal arsenal and tactical gear, and direct access to the Command Center and other critical areas of the fortress via secret passageways and elevators. The fortress also comprises the Armoury and Munitions Room, a heavily fortified storage facility for advanced weaponry, ammunition, and equipment; the Barracks, special accommodations for elite Rebel Army personnel featuring personal quarters, training facilities, and armouries; and the Intelligence Hub, a cutting-edge facility for gathering, analysing, and disseminating critical information to support Rebel Army operations.

Within the castle, there’s a room featuring:

A crystal-clear sky dome with an automatic emergency closure system featuring a dark grey adamant barrier.

Comfy beds and toys for the elite’s German Shepherds and Doberman Pinschers, complete with a doggy playground and a pet grooming station.

An environmental aquarium suitable for four Enormous Morays (Helen, Linda, Jenny, and Barbie) and a few Flying Killers with a simulated ocean current and a treasure chest feeder.

A central tubular fish tank full of tiny jellyfish, surrounded by a circular seating area with velvet cushions.

A hidden passageway behind the aquarium leading to a secret room with a doggy cinema playing canine favourites.

A dog treat bar offering healthy snacks and refreshing drinks for the furry friends.

A veterinary care station with state-of-the-art equipment for any medical needs.

Beneath the foundation, a sturdy hexapedal locomotion system in a coppery brass hue with durable rose gold nanocoating. Six arachnid-like, cybernetic legs, enforced with dark mahogany and myrtle green insulated wires, aid in propelling the fortress with steady, hissing steam-powered strides. The wires connect to a network of brass fittings and copper pipes, pulsing with a warm, golden glow. Its simple, gear-driven mechanism moves with deliberate precision, while leather-bound shock absorbers ease the impact on the terrain.

At its core, a centralised arsenal unleashes swarms of AI-guided, quantum-entangled missiles, capable of adapting to evasive maneuvers. Dual, high-energy laser cannons flank the primary weapon, their prismatic lenses pulsating with intense, supercharged plasma. Along the castle's periphery, sixteen omnidirectional, auto-targeting turrets deploy, unleashing bursts of hypervelocity, micro-kinetic projectiles at perceived threats, guided by advanced, real-time predictive analytics.

Extra Information

Most pilots and special airborne soldiers are Rebel Army cadets with either sufficient or barely passable piloting skills. However, some are kidnapped Regular Army cadets who have been brainwashed and enticed with promises such as financial aid—and, if female, subjected to emotional manipulation—to serve General Morden's cause. To maintain their obedience, they are forcibly administered amphetamine pills and methamphetamine injections on a weekly basis. This potentially explains why some pilots exhibit self-destructive behaviour, such as kamikaze attacks.

Fanatic land troops are known to ingest hallucinogens, believing it will render them numb to the emotional pain associated with taking lives. They also believe it will intensify their conviction to eradicate all governmental and militant corruption. They claim to receive visions revealing strategies to annihilate their enemies and words of encouragement from General Morden, who’s revered as a deity-like figure.

Similar to the fanatic land troops, marine divers known to be suicidally fanatical and extremely loyal to the Rebel Army's cause, willing to sacrifice themselves to secure a better future for their faction.

Some male fanatic land troops, bikers, and marine divers have been known to engage in coercive recruitment tactics, including love bombing, to manipulate women into joining the Rebel Army's land, marine, and aerial divisions. Additionally, there have been instances of sexual assault perpetrated by these individuals against women in opposing factions.

The bodyguard armour stands at an impressive 8 ft (243.84 cm) in height. However, many individuals inside these suits exist in a severely degraded yet remarkably functional state, despite suffering from adverse reactions caused by their genetic enhancement. This enhancement involves the forced integration of Tuatha Dé Danann DNA into their genome through chemical means.

Some soldiers have a habit of slacking off, engaging in activities such as calling loved ones, taking smoke breaks, gossiping, cooking food, dancing to music played on the boombox, drinking, flirting with those who catch their attention or playing games on their handheld consoles.

GOOOO!!!

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⟡ full details are in my carrd! feel free to dm if you have questions 🫶

🎐 chibi 35usd ; half body 58usd ; full body 85usd

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Reworked Character #6: Nadia Cassel

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, neglect, stalking, and SA.

Real name: Nadège Véronique Comtois

Alias: Blurting Mosquito Fiend

Occupation: Private of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. and a scientist for the Amadeus Syndicate (formerly)

Retirement plans: Become a professional forensic scientist, acquire a private jet, and establish an art studio and an ethical science lab

Special skills: Marksmanship, piloting, forensic science, knowledge of biological agents and toxins, and creating detailed, observational drawings of enemy positions and terrain

Imperfect clone abilities: At her own will, she can rapidly regenerate missing limbs and organs, minimising blood loss and restoring her body to its original form without the need for medical aid. Her blood possesses extraordinary healing properties, capable of instantly curing non-lethal ailments, skin punctures, and all manner of burns. When Nadia opens her mouth wide and flexibly shifts her upper and lower front teeth, she reveals four syringe-like fangs, which are neatly concealed within the hard palate. These fangs enable her to consume the blood of other living beings and replenish her own lost vital fluid.

Her body is resistant to all lethal toxins and pathogens. Moreover, she possesses incredible agility and can move at hyperspeeds. Notably, her pancreas, shielded by a thick layer of blubber, has the unique ability to produce a bile-infused silk. She utilises this silk to puke up robust, ensnaring nets that capture her victims and slowly burn them with its corrosive properties. Nadia’s hands feature reseda chartreuse eyes with feline pupils, granting her night vision, and her fingernails are entirely fleshy, concealing retractable claws made of an adamantine greenish-yellow material.

Hobbies: Painting landscapes, going on shopping sprees (she often buys gifts for her comrades and friends), reading books on anatomy, messing around with flight simulation software, and eating large quantities of food after each mission

Likes: Trevor (her only best friend who she has slight romantic feelings for), sweet and spicy foods, giving everyone nicknames, maintaining her figure, and the one time she accidentally ate a butterfly

Dislikes: Starvation, genetically modified organisms (GMOs), getting unnecessarily dirty, people telling her to “shut up”, and individuals that she views as scary and incapable of having fun (such as Tequila and Eri)

Favourite food: Coq au vin, phaal curry, and sugar cookies

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Female

Age: 12 (in 2022), 18 (in 2028), 20 (in 2030), 22 (in 2032), 24 (in 2034), 31 (in 2041), 33 (in 2043), 34 (in 2044), and 37 (in 2047)

Blood type: B+

Weight: 120 lbs. (54 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 4” (162.56 cm) French ectomorph with a gracefully thin body, small breasts, curvaceous hips, sloping shoulders, and a serpentine tongue covered in microscopic spikes. She has limestone skin and heterochromatic eyes with her right eye being amber and her left eye grey-green with brown spots. Nadia has a few moles: one on the right side of her chin; one near the corner of her left eye; two above her left breast; one on the back of her right hand; and one slightly below her right knee. She has raspberry hair with voluminous curls that reach her waist, but she often ties them into pigtails with stretchy reseda green hair bands. She has a silvery-pink birthmark on her left shoulder, almost shaped like a crescent moon with three protruding spikes. A large circular patch on her upper back is stripped of skin, exposing crimson muscles and purplish veins, and her greenish-yellow spine is partially protruding.

Her military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with her name, an avocado green tank top, and mid-calf socks with black and white zebra stripes. She wears Argentine blue neoprene gloves, reseda green leather belt, and a champagne-hued vest. She wears navy blue army cargo pants tucked into twilight lavender combat boots with spiked soles. She also wears a dirty white lab coat, black knee pads, a case for her stun gun, and a gun holster for a handgun.

Her vest has two hidden strapped compartments to hold up to two firearms when needed, but they’re often accompanied by a bonesaw and a 7.62mm AR-10 Autorifle. The pockets of Nadia’s vest carry around a pocket knife, a sticky note pad, a red pin, a black cellphone with a metallic green case, a blue pin, a pack of cotton candy bubblegum, and a bag of macadamia nuts. In the pockets of her lab coat, she carries an orange-and-white cat plushie with blue eyes and an emerald green tie named Melekhai (used for stress relief), along with a box of frosted sugar cookies.

Over her tank top, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. She wears two dark brown bandoliers that cross over her body in an X-shape, each holding grenades. Nadia carries around a navy blue load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, greenish-black gas masks for crewmates without them, a medical kit, liquid and pill bottles of cures and deadly chemicals, a sketchbook, and a set of drawing pencils with two erasers and a sharpener. She also wields a specialised rifle that fires needles containing transformative liquids, capable of altering humans into simian or mantis creatures. Additionally, she carries purplish rolling bombs that contain mummifying breath and throwable canisters filled with a zombie-inducing orangish phlegm that explodes upon impact. She wears safety goggles, star-shaped lavender spinel earrings that dangle from her ears, and a non-dangling peridot belly ring piercing.

Personality: She boasts swift wit and inventive verbal humour, often outsmarting her foes with clever sabotage tactics. Despite being a happy-go-lucky and sassy goofball, she has a surprisingly intelligent and cynical side, but she loves to indulge her silly and jubilant nature. Due to her fondness for her exceptional intellect, she sometimes perceives other people as “intellectually inferior” to herself. She conceals her bitterness and wariness of strangers behind a facade of playful teasing, mischievous pranks, sarcastic remarks, and a charming smile. She has a fondness for assigning nicknames to those around her, including friends and foes alike. For instance, she has nicknamed Marco as "Mar", Tarma as "Tarms", Eri as "Riri", Fio as "Fifi", Trevor as "Trevie", Ralf as "Raf-Raf", Clark as "Arkie", Hyakutaro as "Hyaro", Tequila as "Teku", Gimlet as "Gigi", Red Eye as "Dey-Dey", Walter as “Walty”, Tyra as “Rara”, General Morden as "Mordy", Allen O'Neill as "Ale", and Ptolemaios as "Ptolema".

She demonstrates her loyalty to her friends by nurturing their relationships and showing platonic affection, often showering them with hugs and kisses. She's a friendly, humorous, and talkative busybody with a passion for creative expression and thrill-seeking adventures, which give her a taste of what it truly means to live. Despite efforts to maintain her supermodel figure, she has developed mild bulimia nervosa; while trying to resist the urge, she sometimes purges after eating. Additionally, she struggles with obsessive-compulsive disorder, manifesting as a fear of contamination, anxiety about misplacing valuable items, and a need for order and balance. She also experiences distressing thoughts, including fears of losing control, harming loved ones, and intrusive thoughts about sexual subjects.

She takes a disturbing pleasure in obliterating her enemies, often letting out a maniacal laugh as she does so. Outside of military work, she often dodges unwanted tasks by concocting elaborate schemes (frequently with Trevor's help) to avoid them. However, her plans usually backfire, landing her in trouble for neglecting her responsibilities. She possesses a fairly compassionate, laid-back disposition, which she only reveals to those closest to her. She's deadly serious when needed and isn't afraid to intimidate people or berate individuals for doing something irrational or dangerous. She's quite gluttonous and becomes quickly hangry when she's extremely hungry and there's nothing to eat at the moment. She's an eavesdropper with a curious habit of inspecting, poking, probing, and even biting anything that piques her interest. She struggles with touch starvation, feeling somewhat emotionally disconnected from others, and harbours a deep-seated resentment towards being ignored by those around her.

Backstory: Nadège Véronique Comtois was born on August 6, 2010 in Quimper, France. She was created in a test tube through advanced Martian cloning technology and the DNA of Ghyslaine Laëtitia Comtois, her clone mother and founder of the Amadeus Syndicate, in an underground laboratory. Initially, Ghyslaine's interest in Nadia was rooted in scientific curiosity. She conducted psychological and sociological experiments to explore the similarities and differences between them. During this period, Nadia longed to experience the outside world and connect with her clone mother. Unfortunately, Ghyslaine's focus on research led her to neglect Nadia's emotional needs. She treated her more like a guinea pig than a human being, providing minimal motherly comfort and attention.

At the age of 9, Ghyslaine decided it was time for Nadia to explore the outside world, which filled her clone daughter with excitement. Together, Nadia experienced her first-ever outing to a shopping district and explored several notable attractions in Quimper, including the Breton County Museum, the Fine Arts Museum, and the Faience Museum. This experience sparked Nadia's curiosity in modelling and the creative arts. However, her mother had other plans. Ghyslaine envisioned Nadia following in her footsteps as a renowned scientist and eventual heir to the Amadeus Syndicate. To nurture this ambition, Ghyslaine frequently presented Nadia with books on biology and chemistry, encouraging her to delve into the sciences. She encouraged Nadia to cover the unusual features on her palms and upper back by wearing neoprene gloves and modest clothing in order to avoid drawing unnecessary attention or judgement from others.

By the age of 11, Nadia had become proficient in biology and chemistry, thanks to her mother's guidance. She began attending school after being previously homeschooled by Ghyslaine and other Amadeus Syndicate scientists. Although her school years were uneventful, Nadia occasionally faced bullying due to her intense interests in science, modelling, and the creative arts, as well as her unusual habit of wearing neoprene gloves to conceal her hand-eyes.

However, the bullying ceased after rumours circulated that she had intimidated a school bully by revealing her hidden snake fangs–a claim that was surprisingly true. Nadia's clone mother was indifferent to her academic pursuits but drew a firm line at harming others and divulging confidential information about the Amadeus Syndicate.

During her high school years, Nadia frequently skipped classes to go shopping, feeling that she already possessed a strong grasp of the material being taught in her courses. To avoid arousing suspicion about her exceptional intelligence, she intentionally performed poorly on a few tests. After completing high school, she promptly enrolled in a two-year college art program, specialising in landscape drawing for animation studios, before pursuing forensic science at the university level.

During her forensic studies at university, Nadia unexpectedly became an e-celeb supermodel who goes by the name of Nadia Cassel, doing so for the sheer enjoyment of it. Although her rise to fame was modest at best, she didn't mind, as she revelled in the opportunity to be herself and try something new. She formed a close bond with a fan from Launceston, Tasmania, Australia, Ophelia Clementine Rourke (whom she affectionately calls Ophie), who would later become a fighter plane pilot in the Regular Army.

However, the stress of her forensic studies and the pressures of being a supermodel took a toll on Nadia's mental health, leading to the development of OCD and bulimia nervosa. Her struggles with maintaining a strict diet, keeping her model-worthy figure, and need for control became overwhelming. Eventually, Nadia made the decision to quit modelling, as her mental health issues began to impact her studies. In a disturbing incident, she recalls defending herself against a stalker who attempted to assault and cannibalise her in her own home. The attack led to her involuntarily consuming the stalker's blood, unleashing a sadistic streak she never knew she had.

Once her forensic studies were completed, Nadia decided to pursue her pilot's licence, convinced by Ophie to join the tactical efforts of the Regular Army. After obtaining her licence and receiving military training, Ghyslaine permitted Nadia to join the Amadeus Syndicate as a tactical scientist. She proved to be highly successful, making a name for herself as she pushed the boundaries of scientific understanding in biology and chemistry. Nadia supplied the Regular Army with stable bioweapons, gas masks, and advocated for training recruits on the dangers of biological hazards.

During a joint tactical mission with the Amadeus Syndicate and Regular Army against a bioterrorist attack, Nadia met Trevor and quickly formed a friendship with him. Eventually, she soon discovered her clone mother's sinister plan for world domination and godhood, leading her to leave the Syndicate. Nadia also learned that she was indirectly responsible for the sexual assault of an injured Marco, an event that severely damaged the relationship between the Regular Army and Amadeus Syndicate. Horrified by Ghyslaine's actions, she defected to the Regular Army, dedicating herself to defending Earth against global threats. She vaguely recalls attempting to poison Ghyslaine by lacing her bitter coffee with powdered cyanide, but the plan backfired when another scientist accidentally drank from the cup instead.

She eventually joined the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. after befriending Fio and earning a sliver of respect from Eri. This was due to her impressive performance as a prospective agent, where she swiftly identified the chemical composition of a new illicit drug that had been baffling the Intelligence Agency. She achieved this by obtaining crucial documents and conducting rigorous, ethical experiments. Following the Survival Island Occupation, she provided crucial assistance to the hostages and kidnapped cadets who had been transformed into grotesque simian and mantis creatures, administering cures that successfully restored them to their human form.

Reworked Character #5: Trevor Spacey

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to child abuse, neglect, suicide, death, crime, and drug addiction.

Real name: Yeong-Gi Kwak

Alias: Nerdy Knife Licker

Occupation: Sergeant of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Become a security programmer

Special skills: Proficiency in security programming and computer hacking, repurposing stolen enemy technology, psychological manipulation, taekwondo, and knifesmanship

Hobbies: Helping Marco with technological issues and computer programming, doing graffiti on abandoned buildings and enemy bases, creating anti-virus programs, drawing manhwa, and playing darts and video games

Likes: Marco’s heroism and superior computer skills, tinkering with security software while listening to music that has grabbed his attention, reading psychological horror books, his two combat knives, and Nadia (his best friend)

Dislikes: Being called “old” due to his silver-bleached hair, laughing so much to the point he’s coughing and wheezing, people making fun of his art, faulty security software, and boredom

Favourite food: Samgyeopsal, slushies

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Gender: Male

Age: 13 (in 2022), 19 (in 2028), 21 (in 2030), 23 (in 2032), 25 (in 2034), 32 (in 2041), 34 (in 2043), 35 (in 2044), and 38 (in 2047)

Blood type: AB-

Weight: 148 lbs. (67 kg)

Design: He's a 5' 9" (175.26 cm) Korean ectomorph with a lanky build, a weak musculature, sloping shoulders, warm ivory skin, dark brown eyes, nails painted a silver-grey, and a black mole beneath the left corner of his lip. He has a jet-black undercut hairstyle, featuring icy blonde hair on top with nearly middle-parted bangs that fall over his left eye, covering it partially. On his back, he has a large tattoo depicting a fiery Jindo dog chasing a golden pheasant in orbit around the moon. His lower right leg was amputated due to gangrene caused by the use of the opioid Krokodil, and has since been replaced with a bronze-hued prosthetic. He bears several scars: a curved scar on his left cheek; an X-shaped pair on his chest; a jagged stab wound on the top of his right hand; a long scar running down the length of his left upper arm; and a series of parallel scars on his right forearm.

Trevor's military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with his name, a scarlet bandana worn around his neck, bronze-plated goggles with orange-tinted lenses, and glaucous fingerless gloves. He wears a ruddy blue sweater with two deep pockets, cerulean wool lining, a bronze zipper, silver-striped cuffs, and an embroidered logo of the P.F. Squad on the back, which he occasionally ties around his waist. He wears baggy Cambridge blue army cargo pants, tucked into his Russian violet paratrooper boots, which have hidden knives and are held up by a glaucous belt. He also wears a sleeveless reddish-black shirt with a mock neck and a bust mesh panel, sheathes for his two combat knives, and a gun holster for his handgun.

His sweater has two hidden strapped compartments that can hold up to two firearms or two additional blades when needed. The pockets of Trevor's sweater carry a bag of THC-infused red box gummies (given to him by Ralf), a gourd-shaped jade charm necklace believed to capture fortune and health, and a photograph of him and Nadia. He also carries around a metallic pink-purple lighter and a plastic bag that contains six weed joints. A claw hammer is concealed in the right pocket of his cargo pants, while the left pocket is occupied by a sound-cancelling, bluetooth headset and his black cellphone with a metallic blue case.

Over his shirt, he wears a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. A black bandolier is wrapped above his belt, holding onto the ammunition for his handgun. He carries a Cambridge blue load-bearing backpack containing tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, seven cans of spray paint in different colours, a wide range of hacking tools such as the Flipper Zero and O.MG cables, and nunchucks. He has a collection of piercings, including: sapphire wire hook earrings; black industrial piercings; dark blue tragus piercings; a shiny silver barbell nose bridge piercing; a bold black horizontal eyebrow piercing on his left side; a metallic purple frog eyes tongue piercing; and a dainty gold hoop vertical labret piercing.

Personality: He's a stoic existentialist who focuses on what he can control, accepts what lies beyond his grasp, and believes in the power of individual free will to shape the course of one's life. He's a highly intelligent, cunning, and resourceful man who’s confident in his knife skills and computer knowledge, but can come across as overconfident at times. Despite Trevor’s easy-going demeanour and calm smile, he’s watchful, and his jovial nature often serves as a facade to conceal his underlying anxiety. He's easily amazed and intrigued by the wonders of nature, unexpected revelations, explosions, and impressive feats performed by his friends and comrades such as effortlessly hacking into an entire military mainframe. When discussing his interests or sharing fascinating experiences, he becomes quite talkative.

Trevor is an ambivert capable of being ruthless, intensely serious, and unsettling when the situation demands it. He's a skilled manipulator, able to turn enemies into allies in desperate situations by exploiting their morals and convincing them they're in the wrong. When manipulating others, he also instills fear through physical and psychological torment, such as breaking their fingers with a hammer or threatening to kill a loved one in front of them. However, he's unexpectedly stubborn when it comes to protecting those he cares about and the lives of innocent people. Trevor has a playful and mischievous streak, evident in his habit of licking his combat knives and taunting those he considers “morally weak” and “blindly stupid”. Unlike most people, he's willing to forgive his enemies when he realises they're suffering and have an opportunity to redeem themselves.

He occasionally participates in Nadia's antics, adding a touch of dramatic flair to them, but will draw the line when her schemes exceed his comfort zone. He’s often disappointed and shocked by Nadia's actions and words, frequently expressing his distaste and uncertainty. When he's extremely bored, he becomes lethargic and sleepy, making it challenging for him to muster interest in anything until the feeling passes. Trevor enjoys tagging along with Tarma, Marco, Eri, and Ralf because he regards them as role models, skilled fighters, and experts in their respective fields of expertise. Due to his upbringing, he struggles with golden child syndrome, but he has made significant progress in overcoming its challenges, thanks in large part to the support of friends like Fio. He's extremely allergic to felines, so he regards domestic cats as “diabolical little buggers” and makes every effort to avoid them.

Backstory: Yeong-Gi Kwak was born on June 25, 2009 in Seogwipo, Jeju Island, South Korea. He is the eldest of four siblings: his twin sister, Eun-Gyeong; his younger brother, Il-Seong; and his youngest brother, Seok-Jin. His father is a businessman who owns a computer software company, and his mother is a medical engineer. His parents, who were workaholics, put a lot of pressure on him and his siblings to be high achievers, believing that more effort and hard work would lead to a successful career. However, they were quick to forgive the faults of Yeong-Gi and Eun-Gyeong, allowing them to get away with more than their two younger brothers. As the oldest children in the family, his parents put a lot of pressure on him and his twin sister to set a good example and be proper role models for their two younger brothers.

This parenting style fed into Yeong-Gi's and Eun-Gyeong's need to consistently achieve, satisfying their perfectionistic and people-pleasing tendencies. Nevertheless, it also stirred an inflated sense of self in both, with Eun-Gyeong exhibiting signs of narcissistic personality disorder and Yeong-Gi experiencing a great deal of guilt on behalf of his two younger brothers. In contrast, Il-Seong was often scapegoated, frequently blamed for things he didn't do and severely punished by his parents, who would often lock him in the basement for hours. Meanwhile, Seok-Jin was neglected, retreating from his dysfunctional family by spending time alone in his room drawing or going to the park to play by himself. Yeong-Gi made a concerted effort to support Il-Seong and Seok-Jin, which undoubtedly brought some comfort and solace into their lives.

At the age of 3, Yeong-Gi received his first computer from his parents as a gift of appreciation. By the time he turned 7 years old, he had already developed a comprehensive understanding of binary codes and computer languages. During his summer breaks from school, he spent most of his time creating anti-virus programs, which often served as his homework assignments.

However, his dedication to his work left him with little time to spend with his two younger brothers, Il-Seong and Seok-Jin; however, he did manage to sneak in some time to draw manhwa. His parents heavily encouraged his efforts, as he strove to make a positive impact on his school. Ultimately, his hard work paid off, as the school he formerly attended continued to utilise his sophisticated anti-virus programs to combat growing threats from the Internet.

By the time he enrolled in secondary school, his twin sister, Eun-Gyeong, mysteriously vanished. She was last seen with her friends near a shopping mall. Although their relationship was complicated due to her narcissistic tendencies and disrespect towards their younger brothers, Yeong-Gi still cared deeply for her. He had often tried to help her, teaching her the value of humility and assisting her with homework she struggled to understand. He was utterly devastated when his parents announced her disappearance, and it made headlines in the news. A part of him felt lost that day, and the family's desperate search efforts ultimately proved futile. Despite their best efforts, Eun-Gyeong was never found by the authorities and remains missing to this day.

Despite the tragic disappearance of his sister, Yeong-Gi continued to excel in all his classes, but the pressure on him to become successful and be a role model intensified. As he finished grade 10 and summer break began, tragedy struck again when Il-Seong took his own life, sending Yeong-Gi spiralling into an identity crisis. He ran away from home and sought solace with Feodosiy, a Russian transfer student he had befriended in grade 9.

Feodosiy introduced him to his street gang and offered him his first dose of the opioid Krokodil, which Yeong-Gi accepted without hesitation. He became a delinquent, rebelling against his parents and their mistreatment of him and his siblings, but at the cost of becoming addicted to Krokodil. He bleached his hair an icy blonde, adopted the alias Trevor Spacey, and got a tattoo from Feodosiy's right-hand man, Haneul.

For three months, he lived with Feodosiy and his street gang, surviving by stealing essentials and inhabiting a rundown apartment. During this time, he engaged in various criminal activities, including theft, mugging, drug dealing, extortion, and arson. He honed his skills in knifemanship and taekwondo, making him a formidable opponent. However, his Krokodil addiction spiralled out of control, leading to a near-fatal overdose, which led to the subsequent amputation of his lower right leg. This traumatic experience forever deterred him from using street drugs.

After being discharged from the hospital with Feodosiy's gang members' help, he returned to a life of crime, although at a reduced level, as he adjusted to his prosthetic leg. He eventually abandoned his delinquency after accidentally killing a junkie behind a restaurant. Haunted by the incident, he remembered gazing at his reflection in a seedy restaurant's mirror, realising he had gone too far. The deep-seated fear of arrest drove him to the brink of madness, and he decided to eliminate Feodosiy, who had dragged him into crime.

After orchestrating the demise of Feodosiy and his cohorts, he scrubbed himself clean in the bathroom of the run-down apartment where Feodosiy had been staying. He then returned home, where his parents, relieved to see him, sensed the guilt and shame etched on his face for mistreating their children. Seok-Jin was also relieved to see him come home, fearing that he would never return. He confessed to them about his experiences, but kept his murders and certain crimes a secret.

He returned to high school, completing his remaining years successfully, embracing his new identity. Upon coming home from his graduation ceremony, he noticed a flyer seeking recruits for the regular army. He expressed interest to his parents, who were initially hesitant but eventually agreed with Seok-Jin's support. Leveraging his expertise in knifemanship and computer languages, he joined as a military scout in the Regular Army. After enlisting, he befriended Nadia, a scientist and soldier for the Amadeus Syndicate, and thwarted a computer virus that Marco had inadvertently released. During a mission to counter a cyber attack on European governmental forces, he earned Marco's respect due to his exceptional computer skills in hacking and security programming. As a result, he was invited to join the prestigious Peregrine Falcons Squad, where he rose to the rank of Sergeant.

I decided to make a tough decision...

I'm abandoning the Cyphoraviktus Paradox project. It's a real shame because I have been working on it for almost a year. However, I'm not satisfied with it anymore. I don't want to burden myself with something that's an absolute mess and hasn't been planned out properly. With the knowledge I've gained over these past few months, I know I can build better worlds and characters.

I'm not going to delete all of my hard work outside of Tumblr because that's a waste. However, everything in relation to the Cyphoraviktus Paradox has been deleted on this blog.

I do have a few future projects in mind and two or three of them will be repurposed story ideas with already written plots. However, they need a lot of time and energy to work on, which I'm not ready to 100% figure out yet. As of now, I'm going to focus on my Metal Slug AU because I don't want to overwhelm myself with multiple projects.

I'll be reblogging everything I've done for my Metal Slug AU on this blog. I'm mainly doing this because I don't want this blog to die so easily and I want to share work that I'm proud of.

Thank you for understanding and supporting my writing journey. This is a massive leap in my personal journey with creative writing. However, I know it'll be worth it.

Incorrect Quotes #1

Dàiyù: Beelzebub... What was the first thing I told you NOT to do?

Beelzebub:... Get in a fight.

Dàiyù: And what did you do?

Beelzebub: ... Got in a fight...

Dàiyù: With?

Beelzebub:... Odín...

⟢ new eridu archives: camellia

⟢ A Hopeless Romantic

— She finds love in everything and anything, but is oblivious to those who show interest in her.

⟢ Quick Learner, Faster Worker

— As someone doing odd jobs for a living, she is a jack of all trades, master of none. She is often relied on to do business deliveries.

⟢ Soft Under A Tough Shell

— Despite her scary first impressions, she is very easy to get along with and cares more than she lets on.

⟢ A Vessel Of Secrets

— She hasn’t opened up to anyone after an incident in her youth, though many divulge their secrets with her.

I think I need to explain my absence... I've been obsessed with Metal Slug nowadays and I'm currently hyper-focused on working on an AU for the game franchise. It has been taking up most of my time and energy.

Not gonna lie, I'm beginning to hate the Cyphoraviktus Paradox (and this blog) to a certain extent... As I'm working my way through my Metal Slug AU, I realised that I fucked up the worldbuilding and characters of the Cyphora Paradox. I feel as though I could have done everything a whole lot better. I've had people comment on how weird the names of my characters and species for the Cyphora Paradox are, which are now beginning to bug me.

At this point, I don't know if I want to continue working on the Cyphora Paradox and everything within it anymore. I'm beginning to lose hope and passion for this massive project. If I do decide to restart everything, I'm still going to keep some of what I've written and focus on those things specifically.

Thank you for understanding and supporting my work.

“May I please draw your OC?”

Reblog this message if you encourage anyone that wants to draw your OC to do so.  No need to ask for permission in advance.

Go for it.  Draw my OC.  If you want, I’ll even give you reference posts.  Go to town on it.

You are welcome to draw my OC and surprise me with the result.  Seriously.  In fact, I encourage it.  I will proudly display whatever it is you submit to me regarding my OC.  There is a chance that I will squeal about it for several days.

Even if you feel you aren’t good at whatever artistic adventure it is you do, please feel free to submit it to me.  I want to see what you have done.

FR!! And idk how they still don't like him even after Nightbringer like bro REALLY came to the past to help us and yall still don't like him.

List your husbandos/waifus 🫵

Husband's

Susano'o, Sasaki, Lucifer, Azazel, Samael (Ror)

Diavolo and Solomon (Obey Me Shall we date)

Katakuri (One Piece)

Julius Novachrono (Black Clover)

Hashirama (Naruto)

Uramichi (Life Lessons Of Uramichi)

Ging (HxH)

Fu (Dragon ball Xenoverse)

Fukuzawa (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Females

Gine (Dragon Ball)

Mereoleona (Black Clover)

Thrud, Chun Yan, Lilith, Geirölul (ROR)

Thirteen (Obey Me)

Apple Experiments

Word Count: 2500

POV: Third Person

Commission for: Laine

Note: i didnt know what pronouns to use for Colress so i went with what the commissioner referred to Colress as! If you do not like transfem Colress i suggest you look the other way! I have permission from Laine to post this!!

“This isn’t what I thought you had in mind when you said, ‘let’s go apple picking.’” Laine said, sitting on the ladder as Colress picked one of the low-hanging fruit.

They were currently in an orchard, a ladder stood up next to the tree that Laine was currently sitting on and Colress on the ground picking apples from the tree. Laine took an apple, bit into it, and watched as Colress examined the apples with such awe and amazement. She just couldn’t get it, how could Colress find apples of all things interesting now? Laine knows of all the things she could get up to, and in part she has helped him in the past. This time was no different, helping Colress find the perfect apple for her experiment.

“Apples are fascinating things, are they not?” Colress asked. “We eat them every day yet we don’t dare to distinguish between what makes a good apple and what doesn’t. Or what the difference between a biologically engineered apple or a fresh one is like.”

“Here we go…” Laine mumbled, putting her head in his hands. “Can’t we just pick apples like normal people?”

They weren’t the only ones in the orchard picking apples. Couples all around them picking different types of fruit, smiling and hugging each other as they had fun. Among the trees were oranges, peaches, and other fruits that people went to pick, meanwhile Colress was still here picking apples and examining them for her experiment. What that experiment was, Laine still didn’t know. Laine almost felt a little embarrassed sitting there on the ladder as Colress still stayed at the same tree for minutes at a time looking at apples that all honestly looked the same to Laine. There was something endearing about it all though.

Laine would be the only person to put up with Colress’ weird experiments. Laine was always the first person Colress went to if she needed help with an experiment. There was that one thing Colress needed help with an experiment on plants, and while most in her department called her insane, Laine was the only person to indulge her in her weird antics. And it worked, by the way. People were surprised to see that, yes, you could turn plants into animals. (She made a dog-plant hybrid of some sort.)

Laine didn’t mind it when Colress did weird and funky things like this. Sure, it was boring, but it was what Colress loved doing the most, and he couldn’t deny Colress. So, that’s what Laine ended up doing for most of the day; picking apples with Colress. Laine would eat the apples and Colress would examine whatever Laine didn’t eat. Laine was in for a long day, because Colress wasn’t stopping anytime soon. They had gone through about 40 apples by this time, and there were still apple trees full of the fruit waiting to be picked.

“Normal people?” Colress asked, “When have I ever been normal?”

“Never, sweetheart.”

“Then there’s your answer. Now, come, we’re done with this tree.”

Laine sighed, stepping down the ladder and hauling it with them as they made their way to the next tree. It wasn’t too unbearably hot outside, a nice spring breeze waved through the air, so that was a plus on Laine’s side. Colress thought it to be good as well, since the orchard would be in its prime for picking. She made sure it was the right time for this apple picking date (if you could call it that) so that the apples would be in their prime when they were picked. It was careful and meticulous planning on her part, spending days and nights trying to figure out the best day to pick apples.

“What do you mean you want to go pick apples?”

Laine asked this while sitting on the couch of their shared apartment. Colress seemed to be in another fit; this time about apples. She was pacing around the room mumbling to herself about apples and their taste and looks. Colress had been like this for days, non stop muttering about apples and in the lab doing research on all types of apples. Looking up red versus green, unripe versus ripe, waxed versus not. Laine sighed, knowing she’d never get out of this fit on her own, and stood up grabbing Colress by the shoulders lightly.

“Calm down. I’ll take you to an orchard.”

“You will?” there was an uncharacteristic amount of begging and enthusiasm behind that voice, something that Laine couldn’t help but say yes to.

“I will.”

Colress smiled big, wrapping her arms around Laine. Despite looking lanky and unforgiving, Colress gave the best hugs. There was something warm about the hugs she gave, especially since she gives them rarely. Laine would savor these hugs knowing that they weren’t given for free. It was a tight hug, probably from the fact that Laine was giving into Colress’ indulgences, and one that lingered on. Colress pulled away thinking in a frenzy.

“I have to plan! I have to figure out what day is best for picking apples…the wind speed, the temperature, even the location is all important!”

“Woah there, slow down Colress.”

“I can’t!” she exclaimed, walking away from Laine. “I have to figure this stuff out! I’ll see you in a bit!”

So she did. She spent the next few days figuring out what days were best. Wednesday’s weren’t the best due to the constant wind speed on those days, and Thursday wasn’t good either because of the rain. Monday’s were too busy, and Colress didn’t particularly like people all too much. Laine had to beg Colress to go to bed a few times because she would accidentally not sleep for a couple days, or eat. After all was said and on, Friday of next week was the best time to pick apples.

“Alright, do we have everything?” Laine asked.

Laine checked through her bag, looking for all the necessary things she was bringing with her. Half the stuff Laine didn’t even know the name to, and the other half he didn’t even know what it did. She just kept quiet and let Colress do her thing. With a single thumbs up from Colress, they headed off to the orchard. It was some orchard on the other side of town, apparently with a lot of good apples, as Colress said. It wasn’t too busy, and the temperature was just right this day. Everything was made sure to go to plan.

“When did you even have time to go check out this orchard?”

“A couple of days ago after some research on the orchards in town.” Colress said simply. “It took me a few hours but I found the perfect one with good apples.”

“What is your experiment anyways?”

Laine shrugged. “Not sure yet. Could be the biological foundations of apples or the differences between green and red. I just need to see them for myself to determine the next step.”

Colress was always doing things like this. Going into an experiment without a solid hypothesis. It wasn’t the most soundproof and ideal way to do an experiment, but it was Colress’ idea of a fun experiment. If you don’t know your hypothesis then there’s the fun in doing the experiment! Something that Colress’ would do is make up a hypothesis along the way, and Laine figured that’s what Colress’ was doing now. Making up a hypothesis to have a sound experiment.

Which brought Laine back to here, sitting at a new spot under the tree eating red apples that taste super sweet. The sun was now in the evening and most of the couples had left the orchard. Meanwhile, Colress was still as interested in apples as she was when she first came into the orchard. That made Laine have a question though. “What’s the difference between a green apple and red apple?”

“Colour, for one thing.” Colress started as she plucked another apple from the tree. “Taste is second. Green apples tend to be more sour than red apples, while red apples have a sweeter juicier taste. I suppose that’s what you’re tasting now.”

Colress was right. There were red and green apple trees and whenever Laine had tasted the green apples his face would scrunch and pucker up. Laine didn’t mind the sour taste of the green apples and continued eating them, and the red ones were juicier. They would often make a mess and drip down Laine’s face, which she had to wipe off the excess juice afterwards. There was something else that Laine had a question of…

“Anything else?”

“Their skin,” Colress said, poking the red apple in her hand with a gadget, “Red apples have thin skin and green apples have thicker skin. There’s also the vitamin differences too. Green apples have vitamin A, vitamin B, vitamin C, vitamin E and vitamin K, while red apples are full of antioxidants.”

That was something that Laine noticed whenever she bit into a red apple versus a green apple. It wasn’t much of a difference, but there was an obvious thickness to the green apples than the red ones. The way it was a tiny bit harder to bite into the green ones. They were cleaner, though, than the red ones. Laine chewed through the red of the apple in his hand and threw the core on the ground.

“What about unripe apples?”

“They’re usually smaller and greener. They also taste sour, much like green apples. I assume they taste even more sour than green apples…” Colress plucked an unripe apple and a ripe green apple. “Ripe apples have more colour and when you pluck them,” Colress plucked a ripe apple, “they come off the tree easily.”

On all the trees Laine did see apples that did look green, but not as green as the green apples they had been eating. They looked smaller, and had more spots on them than regular green apples. Laine had made the mistake of biting into one earlier and making a sour face as they threw the apple on the ground. It was unmistakably sour than a green apple, but Laine wouldn’t tell Colress that. She could find that out for herself.

Laine bit into a red apple, looking down at Colress who looked at the green apple with such intensity. “So, have you figured out your hypothesis yet?”

“Other than the sourness of a green apple versus an unripe apple, no. But I’m getting there.”

“It’s starting to get late,” Laine said, looking at the horizon. “We can always come back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow it will rain.” Colress said in a deadpan still looking at the apple in her hand. “Won’t work tomorrow. At the least we’ll have to wait until next week, again.”

The sun was still high up in the sky that Colress could still search for a few more minutes, but it was starting to dip below the horizon-line. Laine didn’t much mind the night sky, but didn’t want to be spent in an orchard overnight either. Not that the owner would let them. They had a specific time they closed at, and Colress was nearing that time. Colress continued to examine more apples, having a basket full of them already piled up.

Although Laine complained about going to an orchard for simple research there was something about spending time with Colress that was endearing to his heart. The fact that Colress didn’t want Laine to do anything except sit there and hand her apples when she needed them. Laine guesses this is what people call ‘quality time’ in terms of expressions of love. Colress loved quality time, asking Laine to come into the lab whenever she was super busy just to keep her company. While it wasn’t Laine’s preferred expression, she still loved that Colress loved it.

“Havin’ fun there?” one of the owners of the orchard came by. “Pretty interested in the apples, ain’t she?”

Laine looked at Colress who looked at a green apple, before tossing it in the basket. Laine couldn’t blame Colress for her eccentricity though. If she was passionate about something she was going to put her mind to it. No one else would go through a million apples in an orchard just for an experiment. She was also persistent, and headstrong, not willing to leave until she had all the data she needed for her collection.

“Yeah…” Laine sighed. “Come on, Colress, it’s time to go.”

It was Colress’ turn to sigh, as she put up the clipboard in her bag and walked over to the basket full of apples. Despite her lanky figure she was strong, at least, strong enough to pick up a basket full of apples. Holding a basket full of apples, Colress nodded, and headed off towards the car. The owner of the orchard looked at her with wide eyes and his mouth agape. “Need that many apples?”

“Yeah.” Laine repeated, sighing again.

Laine got in the car with Colress while the apples sat in the backseat. The evening sky started to loom over them as they made it back to their apartment on the other side of town. The day was over just as quickly as it came. Laine thought of it to be a somewhat eventful day, spending time with Colress as she poked and prodded apples of all different kinds. The car ride was silent until Laine decided to break the tension between the two of them. “I thought this was a date.”

“A date?” Colress asked. “Did you want it to be?”

“Yes,” Laine grumbled. “But I didn’t mind. Watching you pick apples with that expression on your face is something that I love about you.”

“No…no,” Colress shook her head, “I mean. You want to date me?”

Laine looked at Colress in disbelief, but wore a smile on his face. “Sweetheart, we’re already dating.” Laine laughed. “We live together.”

“Oh…” Colress looked down at her lap, folding her hands together. “So this is dating…”

“You seriously didn’t know?” Laine asked, albeit a little more seriously now.

“I’m joking, of course.” Colress joked. “Of course, I know I’m dating you.”

“Oh, thank God.” Laine sighed in relief. “I had fun today.”

“I love you too,” Colress said, looking at Laine endearingly on the ride home.

It was moments like these that Colress wouldn’t dare to ever forget. Although she was known for her friendly nature, she wasn’t known for trusting so easily. Trusting, much less than loving someone. There was a sense of openness and vulnerability that came with loving someone as deeply as Colress loved Laine. A sense of belonging. Whenever Colress would look at Laine it was like her entire world would light up, knowing that there was someone in her corner to indulge in her every whimsy. Colress may have asked for a lot, but Laine was always there to give, and never asking for anything in return.

And Colress wouldn’t have it any other way.

I'm in love with this and I love him too!! AHHHHHH!!!

Artist: WhatsernameCC

My OC+Canon relationship template

Before using, here are some rules and boundaries for this template:

For organization, crossovers are not allowed, stick with one fandom only.

For the big box, do not use a canon character, you can use canon characters in the little boxes next to the big box.

Be sure to credit me when using this template, dont remove the text.

Do not use this for proshipper purposes.

Have fun :]

The Gravestone

Trigger warnings for death, suicide, and dissociation

She never imagined she should die so young.

Beverly Whittenhouse stood before the grave that said in big letters her name—BEVERLY WHITTENHOUSE—and the date—JANUARY 17, 1992 - SEPTEMBER 5, 1953. The gravestone was small and upright, but to her, it was everything. This is where she would forever lie. She thought her funeral would be grander, but when she stood in the back pew looking at her coffin, she couldn’t help but feel nothing. She could never stand to look at her body.

It was shortly after the birth of her firstborn, Cynthia Whittenhouse, that her body relaxed and her muscles eased. Her arms felt like a million pounds, and her body felt like cement. She couldn’t tell the doctors what was wrong because she couldn’t gather the energy to speak. It was painful for the first hour or so, with a mind-crushing headache and sweat beading down her face. Sooner or later, the nurses monitoring her noticed something was wrong, but by then, it was too late. Beverly was already too far gone for treatment, so she did the next best thing. She closed her eyes. She thought, ‘Maybe if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up fine.’

Beverly did wake up. Her body lay in the hospital bed, unmoving, when she opened her eyes. Her body felt light like she could run a marathon and then some. She no longer felt sweaty and gross but instead felt rejuvenated, like she was a kid again. The lights in the delivery room no longer felt blinding, and everything was still. For a moment, Beverly felt true, genuine peace.

When she came back to her senses, Beverly saw her peers, the other nurses who served alongside her in the Second World War, crying. She didn’t understand what was wrong, so she sat up.

“What’re you cryin’ for? I’m right here.”

But they acted like they couldn’t hear her.

She went to grab onto one of the nurses but saw that her hand went through them. Her hand felt like nothing, and a simple gust of wind could blow her away. Beverly got out of bed, stood up, and looked at the nurses. Her eyes couldn’t believe the moment that had transpired, and all she could do was stare at them with a still and fearful expression. The pit in her stomach grew, and she knew one thing.

She couldn’t turn around.

Beverly knew if she turned around, it would become all too real to her. She walked around the nurses, knowing full well she could walk right through them, and walked through the door. Passing through physical objects is strange; it’s like walking through jello or something similar. It’s like something is trying to pull you back, and you feel suffocated all at once.

Each step she took felt heavier than the last. Her surroundings felt…off. She couldn’t feel or touch anything, and when she looked around, it felt as if everything had a haze to it. Her body felt out of her control, and she went on autopilot. She felt disconnected from reality, and in a sense, she really was.

It was a small hospital with a long corridor leading to different hospital rooms. She walked down the corridor, passing by the paintings on the wall she never got a good look at when she was being wheeled down. They were beautiful paintings: one of sunflowers, another of a fruit basket, and a few others of various objects. She walked slowly down the corridor until she came to the double doors that led to the entrance. She took a left because of the label ‘nursery’ on the wall.

It didn’t take long to find her husband standing there with a smile on his face. He wasn’t paying attention to Beverly; instead, he stared at one of the babies in the nursery. There were about 20 babies, but she couldn’t mistake her own. There, in the back row in the middle, was hers: Cynthia Whittenhouse. She had this feeling of elation, knowing her baby was alive and well. She felt so far from everything, but in this moment alone, she finally felt the happiness she had been waiting for 9 months.

“Mister George Whittenhouse.”

The recurring fear came back into Beverly’s body as she turned to look at her husband, who had been happy and smiling at his newborn daughter. She knew this would be the last time he would be seen happy again. She stayed, looking into the nursery with a fond expression, while he left with the doctor and went back down the corridor.

For the next week, she wasn’t allowed to leave the funeral home. She was stuck in some place that looked like a dentist’s office with a long chair in the middle. Beverly looked curiously around the room, looking at the different bottles labeled formaldehyde, methanol, glutaraldehyde, and other names of chemicals she didn’t know. She never once looked at the person in the room rushing around or who laid on the chair herself.

Beverly could never stand to look at herself in the eyes. Once, she tried to turn and look at herself, but when she caught a glimpse of her still lifeless body on the table, she couldn’t bear it. She tried; she honestly tried to come to terms with the fact she was dead, but she internally screamed at herself. She was too young to die, too young to perish! She didn’t even get to meet the baby girl she had so long to see.

So when it finally came time for her funeral, seeing the preparations and flowers, seeing all the guests that came, it all felt too surreal. Beverly waited outside the room where the funeral was being held. That’s the farthest she could get before she would blink and be back at her body. She could never travel far from it. It was like some sort of tether still tying her to her body.

“Today we mourn the loss of Beverly Whittenhouse…”

Arriving there was no problem; all she had to do was wait until her body left the funeral home. Whenever she got too far away from her body, it was always like walking through a fog. Even now, whenever she starts to walk too far, she always makes it back to her gravestone. Even in death, she couldn’t travel the world like her husband promised.

The cemetery was beautiful when she was buried there. It was still a fresh plot of grass, and the headstone was beautifully carved. She could hear sniffles from everyone in the crowd and, worst of all, her husband’s red eyes. She had assumed their baby was still in the hospital, where she would stay until enough time had passed and it was okay to send her home. Seeing her husband’s cheerful demeanor disappear after the war was the first sign of his depression, and then the second was seeing the loss of his beloved wife.

The third came way later.

Over time, she would stand beside her gravestone and wait. She would see her little girl grow up with her mother’s bright green eyes and her father’s red curly hair. She was always so happy whenever she came by. Cynthia would say hello and would sit down at the grave and talk for hours and hours about her day and home life. She was a pretty lucky kid; most dads would run, but this one didn’t.

It didn’t stop Beverly from noticing something was wrong. Every time he came by, he seemed tired and often worn out. After the war, George went back to his job as a factory worker. His sad smile turned weary, and after a while, the smile faded. It was like it took everything out of him just to get up in the morning. Soon enough, he stopped coming.

Beverly waited by the gravestone one day, waiting for Cynthia to come by. The weather wasn’t half bad—a little rain here and there, but otherwise, it was a perfectly cloudy day. She sat down on the ground, trying to pick the grass, but she couldn’t touch the ground like she could before. She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.

“I’ve been watching.”

“Who the hell are you?” a startled Beverly yelled, getting up and backing away.

When she turned around to face whoever it was, she was pleasantly surprised. There stood a man about fifty years old with a stubbly face and dark brown eyes. He stood a little taller than Beverly, who was already 5’6 herself and looked clean. He stood there staring straight at her with a kind and soft expression.

“I am the Groundskeeper of this fine cemetery. You must be Beverly Whittenhouse.”

She looked around to see if anyone else was around and then back to the man. “How can you see me?”

“Once you spend enough time at the cemetery, you tend to see things.”

“So, you can really see me?” she asked, walking up to the man. “I wonder…” she reached out a hand to touch him.

“Still can’t touch.”

“Oh.”

She withdrew her arm and looked at him curiously. It still bothered her that his only answer was that ‘you tend to see things’ when you spend enough time at the cemetery. It wasn’t enough for her. There had to be more to the story.

“Does that mean my daughter can see me?”

“Perhaps.”

She rushed towards the man, trying to grab his shirt, but stumbled and fell to the ground. The man stepped out of the way nonchalantly, looking down at her. She grumbled at the fact that she had forgotten she couldn’t touch people and got to her feet again. She brushed off the nonexistent dirt and looked at him sternly.

“That’s not a good answer.”

Despite everything, the Groundskeeper seemed unbothered by this entire situation. “You want me to talk to her, yes?”

“I’d do anything to tell her that I loved her,” she begged the man. “Please. I just want to see my daughter once.”

“I can’t tell you if she can see you or not. I can only assume. When she comes by again, I’ll talk to her.”

If she could kiss that man’s feet, she would. She could finally meet the daughter she never got to see. It had been so long since she could hold her little girl in her arms, and now she could talk to her as a teenager. Maybe, just maybe, she could get to meet Cynthia

When the next year came, Cynthia was eighteen years old. Beverly had seen some of her relatives come by the cemetery; they were stuck to their bodies just like she was, but they moved on. Beverly got to know some of the other residents of the cemetery, like David, an elderly man waiting for his wife, or Susan, a young adult who wanted to stay just a bit longer. Beverly wasn’t alone.

It was the middle of the summer, and while everyone else was out wearing short sleeves and shirts, Beverly was still in her orange pencil skirt dress she was buried in. It was almost scandalous how much skin a woman could show nowadays, but it was trendy. Back before she died, it was scandalous for a woman to wear pants, much less mini-skirts.

Cynthia wore a similar outfit to the rest of the people. She wore a pink halter top with high-waisted bell bottoms. She wasn’t with her father that day; he stopped visiting two years ago. Beverly had hoped he was moving on and was being a father to their child, but in reality, Beverly didn’t know. All she cared about now was meeting her daughter for the first time.

Beverly waited by the gravestone for Cynthia with a smile on her face. She was nervous; she couldn’t lie, but she was so elated that she could finally tell her daughter the words “I love you” on her face. She held her hands together tightly as she waited for her daughter to get closer.

Beverly didn’t know where he came from or how, but the Groundskeeper came along. He seemed to have some supplies, and he started cleaning a gravestone. She didn’t know the supplies’ names or what exactly he was doing, but she knew he was cleaning the gravestone. This was the first she had seen him clean them.

Cynthia set down a white rose and looked over to see the Groundskeeper. “Who are you?”

He looked up from his work to face her. “I am the Groundskeeper. I watch over the cemetery.”

“Weird…” she turned back to Beverly’s gravestone. “So, what, do you watch over the graves here or something?”

“You could say that,” he says as he brushed the gravestone with some cleaning agent. “What would you say to her?”

“Who, my mom? I dunno,” she shrugged, looking at the grave. “It’s hard to miss someone you didn’t get to know. I mean, I love her, but it’s different.”

“Do you grieve for her?”

“I grieve for the mother I didn’t get to know, but do I grieve my mom?” she paused for a second to think on the question. “No. I just hope she’s at peace now.”

“Why do you keep coming then?”

“Because…she’s still my mom. I may not grieve her, but without her, I wouldn’t be here. I know she loved me; Dad tells me that every day.” she stares at the gravestone a bit longer. “Thank you for talking to me and all. Mr…?”

“Mr. Peters.”

Beverly wiped her eyes as tears ran down her face when Cynthia left the cemetery. She wasn’t wailing, but she was sobbing quietly. Did her daughter not love her enough? What did she mean by it was different? Beverly had so many unanswered questions but couldn’t ask. She wanted to run, scream, and do whatever. And so she did.

Beverly fell to her knees in some distraught agony and pounded her fists into the ground. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes as she sobbed out. Beverly was frustrated with the feeling of not being able to do anything. She couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t speak to the people she loved; she couldn’t go and see them; she couldn’t do anything except stay here and stare at the words on the gravestone that said her name.

“Why…” Beverly sniffled. “Why can’t she see me?”

“Because she’s not grieving you,” the Groundskeeper told her. “She may have lost a mother, but she didn’t lose you.”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, then it’s not!” she yelled through broken sobs. “My own daughter…”

“She never said she didn’t love you. In fact, she said the opposite. She’s moved on. Maybe you should, as well.”

Beverly got up and stood over the Groundskeeper. “I should move on?! How? I can’t even tell the people that I love that I loved them! And you didn’t help me at all!”

“I showed you that she couldn’t see you.” the Groundskeeper got up from his spot and looked Beverly in the eyes. “I cannot control how your daughter grieves or does not grieve you.”

“You could have at least told her that I loved her! That I was proud of her!”

“Realistically, how would you react if I said your dead loved one told me beyond the grave that they loved you?”

“I…” Beverly was at a loss for words. On the one hand, she wanted to say she would be receptive, but on the other, she knew she would view him as crazy. “You still could have said something!”

“I am but a mere groundskeeper. I watch the grounds. I am not a messenger between the dead and the living.”

“But you can see me, and you’re not grieving!” she jabbed a finger at him, but all it did was pass through him.

Grief comes in many different forms. It’s thoughtless to assume I am not grieving.” the Groundskeeper walked through her to get to another grave to clean. “Think about this, Beverly. This is not meant to be an attack on you. This is merely a time for self-refleciton.”

“Self-reflection, my ass,” she rolled her eyes.

She did reflect on his words. There was a patch of trees beside the cemetery that she could sit under that wouldn’t bring her back to her body, so she was there for years at a time. She saw that over time, as her daughter grew older, she had this fond smile on her face. She always brought white roses, which were her favorite. Although, she never saw her husband come.

That was until one day, someone came to sit wit hher.

Today wasn’t much different than any other day. A funeral service was being held. It was rainy, and the sky was grey. It’s not a beautiful day to be holding funeral services, really. She wasn’t bothered with who was showing up because she would see them anyway. So, she sat under some trees and watched as people grieved and cried for their lost loved one.

Beverly had kept track of how old Cynthia was at that point, 50 years old. She had a child of her own, Jennifer, who then had a child of her own, Maeve. Even after so long, she still visited her mother, who had been in the ground for half a century. Beverly was curious though. Was her body decayed by then? Was she all bones now?

Those thats didn’t matter when a voice rang out to her. “You look as beautiful as the day I married you.”

She looked up and saw an elderly man standing there. He had a kind smile on his face and kind eyes. She stared confusingly at him for a moment. The last she recalled, all the elderly men in her life had passed away and moved on.

“Who are you?”

“I guess I look different than when you last saw me, Beaver.”

Her eyes widened when she heard the nickname. It had been a long time since she was called 'Beaver.' It was some stupid nickname a few friends gave her in high school because of how her name Beverly sounded similar to Beaver. She didn't understand it, but she took it with pride.

"George?"

He sat next to her with a grunt. "Yeah. It's me, hon."

She couldn't touch him because ghosts can't touch anything, so she cried into her hands. It had been so many years since she saw her husband, and now she could finally see him again.

"What happened?"

"I...couldn't bear it any longer," he said, looking down. "I hadn't been with anyone since you died, and I got diagnosed with dementia earlier last year. I couldn't bear the thought of losing my memories of you."

"Oh, George..."

"But I can finally see you again, and that's all I could ask for."

That was when she made her decision. She decided to stay. She finally understood what it meant to be dead. She wanted to see her daughter again, and the only way she could do that was to wait.

“Do you finally understand?”

She had almost forgotten where all of this began. She stood in front of her gravestone still as the grey skies passed. It was now the dawn of the 21st century, a little over 20 years since she first met the Groundskeeper. This time, he was an elderly man in his 80s with grey balding hair and a stout hunched figure. He could no longer keep up the cemetery, so moss and dirt had taken over the gravestone.

“It’s been a little bit since George left,” she noted. “He moved on much quicker than I did, but I think that’s because he had all the time in the world to spend with her.”

“Are you still angry?”

“Not anymore. I’ve come to learn to appreciate the cemetery for all it’s worth. I just hope there will be someone else to take over your job when you pass.”

He let out a hearty laugh. One that she had never seen before. He was usually stoic and aloof, but this time he looked more…friendly, more forthcoming. Maybe it had to do with age. After all, she didn’t know much about him.

“What about you?” she asked him. “What about your friends or family?”

“I’ll be fine, Beverly.” he said in his smooth, rich voice, now huskier than before. He left the cemetery with his cane in hand. “Just take care.”

She stood there waving goodbye to him as he left and he returned the wave back, before leaving. She looked down at her gravestone one last time, and saw the white roses that Jennifer had placed there.

Happy Birthday Kentarō!!

Artist: @snowmantita , thank you so much

LADY IRENÉ — ! 🌷

Reworked Character #4: Fio Germi

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death and alcoholism.

Real name: Fiolina Hortensia Germi

Alias: Teatime in the Battlefield

Occupation: Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. and the medic of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Become a sports doctor and astrophysicist, open up a bakery, and start a family

Special skills: Chiropractics, acupuncture, the treatment of injuries, household training, and astronomy

Hobbies: All types of sewing (hand sewing, machine sewing, embroidery, and quilting), ballroom dancing, cooking delicious meals and enjoying it on a picnic outside, frequenting petting zoos and nature museums, and watching Tarma build custom motorcycles and Marco create computer viruses

Likes: Peppino (she had it since birth), her family heritage, the beauty of nature, baking cakes and other sweet treats, and the sound of Tarma’s voice

Dislikes: Peppino being torn apart or stolen, scolding hot and freezing cold baths, hot drinks, insects and creepy crawlies, and cheating

Favourite food: Ice tea (preferably Queen Mary), homemade sandwiches, and gelato

Sexuality: Heteroromantic demisexual

Gender: Female

Age: 21 (in 2028), 23 (in 2030), 27 (in 2034), 34 (in 2041), 36 (in 2043), 37 (in 2044), and 40 (in 2047)

Blood type: O+

Weight: 145 lbs. (66 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 2” (157.48 cm) Italian mesomorph with sloping shoulders, upper arms that carry some of her weight, a bit of belly fat, voluptuous breasts and hips, and prominent thighs. She has pale ivory skin, droopy blue-grey eyes, and brownish freckles scattered across her face and neck. Fio has a tad messy orangish-brown hair with blunt bangs and straight strands that fall just above her shoulders, but she prefers to keep it tied up in a ponytail. Her fingernails are painted a soft English lavender hue, and she wears thick, winged dark brown eyeliner, a soft rosy red blush on her cheeks and nose, and cherry blossom pink lip gloss. As a result of battle injuries and her own clumsiness, she bears a bullet wound near the centre of her left calf and numerous cut marks, stab scars, and scrapes on her arms and legs.

Her military gear consists of polarised, silver-plated transition lens eyeglasses, a metal dog tag necklace with her name, and a cordovan Eisenhower jacket. She wears a pink lavender T-shirt with a dogwood rose stripe running along the front and a carmine bra underneath. She wears carmine gloves and a gold-buckled leather belt to secure her ebony army cargo shorts, which fall just above her knees. She also wears ebony paratrooper boots, dogwood rose knee and elbow pads, and over-the-calf bittersweet shimmer socks. She has a khaki waist pack attached to the back of her belt, a leather sheath for her hatchet, a gun holster for her handgun, and a holder for her tonfa. The pockets of Fio's Eisenhower jacket carry around Peppino, her beloved greyish-brown teddy bear with a pearlescent blue bowtie, a red wooden maneki-neko figurine with its right arm raised (a gift from Eri), and a deck of cards. The pockets of her army cargo shorts carry a canister of pepper spray, a Ventolin inhaler, a bottle of azithromycin pills, and a bottle of specialised prescription supplements specifically designed to manage her cystic fibrosis.

Over her T-shirt, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries her walkie talkie and ammo for other firearms. Her black ammunition bandolier is slung over her right shoulder, and the back of her Eisenhower jacket features an embroidered S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. logo. Fio carries an ebony load-bearing backpack containing fire bombs, stones, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, two machine guns, medical supplies, and a scientific telescope. She always wears a pair of teardrop-shaped pink opal earrings and a gold chain necklace featuring a red coral cornicello amulet, believed to ward off bad luck and bring good fortune. She also wears a khaki army cap that once belonged to her father during his military service, personalised with a rosy pink patch depicting a European bee-eater perched on a tree branch on the front.

Personality: She's initially reserved and timid around strangers but warms up and opens up once she becomes familiar with new people. She's a compassionate and considerate listener who's really good with children and lends everyone a generous helping hand. She's sensitive and unafraid to show her true emotions, often engaging in introspective thought. Despite her quiet and calm demeanour, she's surprisingly prone to stress and anxiety, particularly when confronted with obnoxious noises or situations where she can't escape. Even though she's a seasoned warrior, she harbours an intense fear of insects and creepy crawlies, often resorting to hiding behind Tarma or Eri and insisting they handle the situation. On occasion, she displays an almost childlike naivety and exuberance, typically after completing a mission or while off duty.

She's a very friendly and gentle clean freak who'll do anything to help out her family, friends, comrades, and those in need. She gets easily flustered by compliments and flirtatious advances, blushing deeply and becoming nearly speechless. She's a somewhat superstitious person, believing in things like placing one's hat on a bed being a sign of bad luck for homeowners and spilling salt being a harbinger of financial troubles. She's a nature-loving girl who's incredibly clever and always thinks optimistically. She's a great strategist who excels in keep-away tactics. However, she often pushes people away due to fear and isn't the most skilled fighter, but can fight when necessary.

Whenever she's faced with the death of a child, a comrade or friend being severely injured, being touched inappropriately, or being rudely insulted, her face darkens. She becomes cold-hearted and deadly serious, and her tactical prowess shines through most. She originally harboured romantic feelings for Marco, but they dissipated after he disclosed that he isn't interested in romantic or sexual relationships. Her affections eventually shifted to Tarma, whom she found charming due to his silliness, emotional intelligence, and the soothing sound of his voice. She finds immense comfort in Tarma's presence and often offers him solace when he's having a rough day or struggling with self-doubt. However, she's displeased when Nadia takes advantage of her kindness to avoid responsibilities. Additionally, she's frustrated by Eri's overprotectiveness, especially when it comes to Tarma, as it reminds her of her father's behaviour and makes her feel like she's being treated like a child.

When she's reached her limit, feels threatened or needs to express her authentic feelings about something that gets under her skin, she's capable of standing up for herself and making her voice heard. She believes that war serves no purpose other than to be destructive, resulting from conflicts that escalate beyond the control of free will. In her view, war profoundly alters the moral fabric of society, while accelerating the advancement of weaponry and technology used in conflict. She’s a firm believer in virtue ethics who holds that life is more powerful than death, as it continually finds innovative ways to adapt and flourish.

Backstory: Fiolina Hortensia Germi was born on October 2, 2007, in Genoa, Italy. The Germi family is renowned for their vast wealth, military service, and philanthropic endeavours. Originally merchants and nobles, they amassed their fortune in the Mediterranean region during the Age of Exploration and have since maintained their wealth, now managing various corporations and philanthropic organisations. True to their militaristic heritage, the Germis have participated in numerous conflicts, including the Napoleonic Wars of the 1800s, the Italian Unification Wars of the 19th century, and modern-day wars against terrorism worldwide. Sadly, many Germi warriors lost their lives, leading to an important family custom where the chosen heir of the Germi family must serve in the military.

Alessandro Germi, Fio's father, was a fearsome soldier in the Regular Army in his earlier years, serving alongside Fabriclus Roving. However, he was forced to leave military service after being severely injured during a shootout, which left him crippled and suffering from debilitating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). After returning to civilian life and receiving proper support, Alessandro successfully restored his family's struggling business. He also started a family with his beloved wife, a talented seamstress and manager of a luxurious art museum.

Alessandro's wish was to have a healthy son as he feared that sending a daughter onto the battlefield would be a perilous ordeal. To his surprise and dismay, his wife gave birth to a daughter, and due to health complications, she couldn't bear any more children. Fio's mother would also experience postpartum depression after childbirth and passed down a disease that runs deep within their heritage: cystic fibrosis.

Here is a revised version of the text with some minor fixes for clarity and flow: Despite her parents' mental health struggles, they went above and beyond to care for her, providing unwavering love and support. For half of her elementary school years, she was homeschooled with her parents teaching a diverse range of subjects, including mathematics. They encouraged Fio’s appreciation for friendships, the outdoors, and the finer things in life. Her mother often took her on enriching outings to nature reserves and art museums, where she learned about biology and art history. Her mother also taught her the importance of domestic duties, showing her how to do her chores and clean the house. On special occasions, her mother would dress her up in pretty dresses.

Like Marco, Fio excelled in all her classes, demonstrating exceptional academic prowess and a deep appreciation for effort and lifelong learning. However, her life took a devastating turn near the end of her secondary school days. A sudden and tragic terrorist airstrike, attributed to the Ptolemaic Army, struck Genoa, Italy, claiming her mother among its many victims. Her father was the most affected by this loss, turning to a life of alcoholism and self-isolation. Although Alessandro still cared about Fio and tried his best to support her, his alcoholism and newfound self-isolating behaviour made it challenging for him to do so.

It took time for Fio and Alessandro to heal from this loss, but they remained resilient. Eventually, Fio's father sought help and went to rehab and therapy to address his issues with Fio's support and encouragement. After graduation, Fio was awarded multiple awards and scholarships, which enabled her to attend university. There, she pursued an interdisciplinary course of study, exploring chiropractics, acupuncture, physics, and astronomy.

After completing her university studies, Fio expressed interest in joining the military after coming across a persuasive flyer to serve in the Regular Army. This revelation horrified Alessandro, as he didn't want to send his only child off to the battlefield, risking her life. He wanted to disregard the Germi's military traditions, believing that war is repugnant and a never-ending cycle of hate and violence. Alessandro tried to deter Fio from joining, but she persisted, driven by her desire to join the fight against terrorism and protect the lives of innocent people. He reluctantly agreed and sent her off to the military at the age of 21, but attempted to minimise her risk by using his connections and friends from his own military days to secure her a desk job, hoping to keep her out of harm's way and away from the front lines.

However, everything changed when a paperwork mistake caused by militant bureaucracy resulted in Fio's transfer to the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., a special operations branch of the Regular Army's Intelligence Agency known for carrying out high-risk missions. Surprisingly, Fio was ecstatic to hear the news, as she had been eager to be deployed on the battlefield and make a real difference. In contrast, her father was furious and stormed into military headquarters, threatening officers in an attempt to prevent his daughter from being shipped to the front lines.

He would often try to extract Fio from the battlefield, but she consistently resisted. Eventually, she had enough of his overprotectiveness and bravely told him that this was what she wanted—to fight on the battlefield and provide medical aid. She assured him that she was capable of handling herself. Alessandro finally understood and let her pursue her life as a military woman. In return, she promised to keep in touch with him after each mission, providing him with reassurance and comfort.

She has fought in several battles during the Rebel Army's attempts at world domination, despite General Morden's repeated escapes from imprisonment and capture. These battles allowed her to rapidly rise through the ranks, becoming Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. and serving as the medic for the Peregrine Falcons Squad. However, her time in the military has taught her a harsh reality: even the good guys can't always protect the innocent or save their friends and comrades. She has witnessed many deaths and severe injuries that left people crippled and traumatised in each battle. Nevertheless, with the emotional support of friends like Eri and Tarma, she has persevered and continues fighting to this day.