OOC: Soldier is open to anyone. Just give me a basic application and I'll let you know. Name, age, weapons, just the basics.
IC: Soldier, Inc. has stood since the foundation of Neo Nagasaki. It was well equiped for this type of situation to begin with; Soldier, Inc. deals in arms, from production to trading. Pistols to rocket launchers. The very prospect of getting a huge gun and all the ammo they could want was enough to draw in mercenaries from around the globe. One such man went by the name of Artanis Batsu Rain; Rain, to his friends and foes alike.
The man had quickly dropped his status as a mercenary, and became fully integrated into the company. He was the leader of Soldeir's combatants, and he was damn good at it.
He now stood gazing into the mirror of his boss's office. "Chrono," they called him, and nothing more. He saw a giant of a man looking back at him. Six and a half feet tall, though without much muscle to speak of. That was fine, though. He dealt in lead, not fists. Shaggy blue hair, not his natural color, of course, covered a pair of shining ice blue eyes, which were of true color. A tan duster enshrouded the clothes beneath. More important than the jeans and T-shirt it covered, however, were the pieces of metal strapped to his figure. Twin .50 Eagle XIXs, A Walther PPK on each side of his torso in shoulder holsters, a glimmering katana running from his left shoulder to his right hip, and an AR-15 slung to cross over the sword.
The man known as Rain turned to the man known as Chrono. He had given his report of the most recent battle, and was ready to tank out.
"Excused, General."
Rain nodded, and left.