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Ixian

The young(?) boy(?) who is more then he appears, and a survivor of many horrors.

0 · 438 views · located in Dystopia

a character in “Coming To Fruitia”, as played by LookingAtPerks

Description

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Image


Theme Song!: gravityWall

Name: Ixian

Nicknames: Ixy, Arsenal, the IWMP (Though shorthand often has it pronounced as Imp)

Intelligent
Weapons
Materialization
Platform

History: Ixian was originally someone who lived in the Pre-Disaster Era, when things could be called nice and peaceful maybe, though it was overcrowded. As such, there were some companies that in order to make more advances, "helped alleviate the burden" by "inviting" homeless, Orphans, and others to be their experiments for new advances....though the subjects pretty much always died. In fact, from their experiments given what they were investigating, genetic manipulation and what could be done to modify the human genome, it resulted in 99.999% of their subject's deaths. Ixian was one of the few, if not the only, to survive.

He was an orphaned baby left at an orphanage that they "Acquired". They provided him with a place to sleep, and stay, and educated him enough so he could be useful...but in short, his life was pretty much always a living hell. And that was because he possessed an original special trait in his genetic code, that let him survive what was being done. "Adaptability" is what they called it. It essentially just made his genetic code more adaptable, easier to accept foreign substances among other things, but it was that which allowed Ixian to survive through all the horrors they put him through, and experiment on him repeatedly to learn more. Although to keep him co-operative and loyal, they implemented a Reward and Punishment System, it was not really that great.

And then, the world started to go to hell. Afraid of losing their "greatest creation" to "Uneducated Protestors, Ixian was sealed inside some sort of cryo or stasis chamber that was placed inside a heavy vault inside the lowest area of the building. This would be where he would sleep through the end of the world, and after it started back up again. This was where he lay dormant for decades.

Then, one day, a scouting team that had been sent in to scout what the place was like currently, and explore the unmapped regions they had. Eventually it led them to a building that looked like it could have a good haul, and began to fully explore it. Eventually, they found the deepest basement...and also found Ixian. What was incredible is that sometime after he was sealed, but before the world ended, no less then thirteen large scale power cores was left in the room to power his stasis pod. There was also a postit from an unknown person that just had the words "I'm sorry" and "Please be better people then we were and take care of this child properly".

Unfortunately for both of them, especially Ixian, their plea fell on the ears of people who were not as moral. No, instead they did not even see Ixian as a free person, but as a treasure or a weapon they located. Not to mention the still in tact technology, they only saw profit. Some wanted to force Ixian to work for them. Others wanted to sell Ixian to their government as a test subject to learn from, and some...well, they had been out there the whole time with no way to alleviate any stress. And there were a few that were quite unsavory.

But while they certainly made their impression, it did not take long before it began. People who saw all the money that they could make with this find, and then began to wonder "How much would I really get if split with all these people...one or two less would actually be quite a lot..." or "...you know, not just money, with all these people it might drain our supplies too much..", or just "That guy...he never treats me with respect...he doesn't deserve a share of this loot". Of course, that was not the only thing that would seal their fate. The creatures and dangers that lurked within this wasteland also came around, and as some found themselves stabbed in the back, those that did so and others found themselves slain by these dangers.

And then, those who had decided to vent with Ixian found themselves under attack and got distracted by dealing with that, so distracted they did not notice Ixian recovering his strength, returning himself to full power, and then by the time they did he was already executing every single last one of them. Although he was always hopeful for good things, in truth he was pretty much always expecting the worst case scenario....a pessimistic optimist, or an optimistic pessimist. One way or the other, but in the end he killed without a second thought and was soon alone once more.

He would continue to survive out there, on his own. On occasion he might run across people, but no matter how he acted he was distrustful towards people after they had all treated him. He can be extremely wary as a result, and even in his sleep he is alert. Because of his abilities, despite his appearance he was able to survive extremely well.

What he can do:

Superior Senses and Physical Ability:

Although he is technically light enough to be easily pushed around, Ixian actually has a higher then normal strength (which is needed to use some of the larger weapons he can make) and also has better speed/reaction time then average. His ability to endure injury and pain are also clearly superior to any normal child, or people for that matter, however bullets to the head will still kill him outright. But in truth, the main perks come from his acute Kinetic Vision, Sensitive Hearing, and even a somewhat better sense of smell. Although each sense can be bothersome in its own way, it helps Ixian survive. He can track movement, projectile trajectories, and distances and such with his eyes for instance, and his ears would let him be more likely to pinpoint a gunshot better, or pick up frequencies above the normal human hearing range. However, it should be noted that while certainly enhanced, it is not like he can see something miles away, or hear a conversation from another building. There are clear limits.

Weapon Creation:

Ixian is capable of making any weapon he encountered and learned about properly, materializing it in the real world to fight. It is believed he has some limited ability to manipulate particles and such around him to form what he wants, however for some reason what he can create and do is limited. He can also create shields, and other objects to some degree, but his ability decreases significantly the farther it gets from weaponry. For some reason, money and food are entirely impossible, possibly because they are grown (technically, the material used to make money does grow so....but coins, while possible, tax him. Also, the codes would be blatantly fake). He can also freely controls the weapons he creates, and can even make them float, fly, follow, and target whatever he wants. Note that this ability does take some bit of his energy pool, which is an energy currently unquantified.

He can also create tools, but only simple things. He cannot create circuit boards or what not, but he could create a rod of copper or a small rope. Also, he cannot make a weapon he does not have the understanding for, which means he cannot create nukes. In truth, the only thing he can be counted on to make reliably is weapons. However, this is actually because of the mentality forced upon him by Scientists, and if he was to ever one day break this mentality he could create a lot more. But even with the chances of that being slim, if it was those slim chances it would still take a long time for him to develop that.

High Velocity Barrier:

Objects that travel at a high enough velocity cannot harm Ixian, as it will be stopped by his barrier. It appears to be some sort of field, that if one approached with too much force (velocity) would repel the impact, likely some form of mutation connected with a self defense instinct. These objects include bullets, orbital cannons, ship weapon fire in general, and most modern weapons. Even crossbows would not work. However, certain energy based attacks, melee weapons, and a number of vehicles can still move slow enough while being able to deal fatal damage to Ixian. Explosions are also a threat to him. It is not an all powerful ability.

Full Control:

Ixian is able to take control of any machine or construct by touching it. This is because his electrical impulses from his thoughts can be transmitted through the cells in his body and go into the machine to try and enact his will though it's metal, systems, and even circuits. However, the length of which he touches it determines the length it can be controlled. For every second he is touching it, he can control it for ten seconds after releasing it. He can also do this to people, but they might be able to overcome it with willpower and it is far less effective because they have their own brains with their own impulses, unlike machines that lack brains. However, if their minds had broken in the past for whatever reason, they would become much more vulnerable.

Charge:

Likely connected to his Full Control, Ixian's body is generating and emitting small amounts of electricity. This is not enough to harm people, or even be visible, however...it would charge anything he touched with electricity. But that is it, basically he can charge anything he touches. Given that a lot of technology was lost or destroyed, this ability could be seen as near useless.

Regenerative Abilities:

Ixian will always regenerate wounds, and it is unclear if he is capable of aging anymore. In truth, in order for him to have grown this much, the scientists had been giving him a secret drug to reduce this, but with the scientists gone and the formula lost, it would be near impossible to recreate.

Adaptability:

Ixian's body is capable of utilizing and absorbing all foreign tissue without issue, regardless of the source. It may also hold other effects, but this was the main one utilized. It does however let him go longer without needing to use supplies, though this may also be because he has stopped growing.

So begins...

Ixian's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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Ixian:


Meanwhile, far further up ahead from the ground in the roving desert of death they had only just entered into stood what remained of a large city. Of course, after so long and with no one to maintain it the desert had begun to eat the city back up and pretty much nothing worked anymore. Occasionally one could find something that worked, a system or two that had been designed to last or withstand explosions, isolated systems that were protected. Anything stashed in a vault that over one million dollars was spent on in it's design, as well as the surrounding systems which were also built to last.

But, that stuff would make up less then one percent. At least, that is what Ixian believed. However, this place could not be called a true a city. After all, it did not have many people in it, certainly not the original inhabitants or their descendants. No, Ixian could technically count for that group. But still, this place was an absolute hellhole now.

Even Ixian, with all of his abilities, knew he could end up dead any second if he was not careful, or was just unlucky despite his caution.

As the sweet wind of the desert brushed past his cheek, he decided to check from a safe, nice rooftop the surroundings. If he could stay far away from any of the dangers in the desert, Ixian felt his chances of surviving skyrocketed. As for what he was looking through, it was the scope of a Sniper Rifle he materialized. He might look young, but technically he was older then all of them if you count stasis time, and he was sure something the scientists did to him damaged his ability to age...though, not growing and undying were two very different things.

"What the fucking hell..."

Swearing out of surprise, with his sound of his voice not matching the words at all, he saw a truck a good distance out...but also a man, who was walking. Alone. At night. In this forsaken desert.

And he could already see them moving in to surround and kill him under the cover of night. They blended in with the shadows, approaching him while being sure not to make sound or become seen. Various predators of the desert.

Ixian pointed the gun at the man's head, aligning it with the scope. Even though he was dozens of miles away (based on Ixian's guesswork as he doesn't actually know how long a mile is) at least, because Ixian had a clear line of sight, excellent eyesight, and the Sniper Rifle the scientists forced him to learn about so he could materialize it was amazingly powerful, he could make that shot right then and there. If he did this, it would be a painless, instant death.

"I should just give you some mercy now, and kill you before they get to you. Because no matter what, your chance of living...is zero".

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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"This is some good fucking exercise" Mike bends over to catch his breath. He lays down in the sand. "Now is a good time to get some rest." He slowly drifts off to sleep.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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#, as written by Davien
The mournful, tinny music continued to ooze its way lazily out of the speakers. Between the cigar smoke and musical monotony, the three roamed on through the night. Bands of stars and the floodlights atop the cab the only illumination for who knows how many dozens of miles. Gomer even had his doubts on Sarges memory, and if he could pinpoint the original camp they had set up. For hours it seemed they drove on at a slow but steady pace, weaving through dried creek beds, dodging remains of barbed wire fence and the occasional giant yucca plants.

Movement could occasionally be seen outside of the cab, if one was quick enough to catch it. A pair of eyes, few and far between would glisten momentarily in the headlights. It was unclear if Sarge had seen them, but if he had, he was not acknowledging it in the slightest. Gomer, on the other hand, had found the most relaxed position he could in the cramped front seat, leaning up against his assault rifle and one of his feet on the dash. No bump or squeak of the suspension, or wail of the obnoxious slide guitar could make him stir. He was out for the count.

Finally, just when the sky was turning purple with the first rays of sunlight, Baker performed a maneuver that Even jostled Gomer awake, rocking the whole cab back and fourth as though the truck might roll. When the correction was made however, it was clear they had jumped some sort of embankment onto the first road they had encountered since leaving civilization. Not only that, it was paved. Sarge put his foot on the gas as the truck lurched into passing gear, tires welcoming the difficulty-free surface.

“Weeelllp, not too long now conscripts, and we will have arrived and forward station Ute. Your new home for the next year.” Sarge once again spoke with an authoritative yell to be heard over the music he refused to turn down.

Gomer, who still seemed half asleep and was currently looking up and out of his window, tiredly said

“Or maybe the rest of yer life.” He chuckled lazily.

“Oh shut the fuck up Gomer. At least those two look like they wouldn’t walk straight into a bonfire, like you would, Mister Jack Daniels.” The slightest bit of exacerbation with his cohort ringing though.

“Now. Take in a bit of the scenery before its tryin’ to kill ya. “

Cranking down his window, The sergeant spat out the remains of his cigar, still lit, into the dry, dead field of weeds on the side of the road. Without a second thought, he pulled out another cigar and began to light it, steering the truck with his legs as he did so. They only remained on the road for a short time as they were traveling thrice as fast as their previous pace now. Slowly a gigantic bluff began to appear, casting a miles long shadow in its wake. The Rising sun crowned above it, flooding the pink and red desert sand with sunlight. A forest in the distance was slowly approaching, and trees began to pass by the road. Then, signs in front of old, concrete foundations. The signs read of old gas prices, with their respective vendors above. Finally, a large sign that very boringly stating “Fruitia Welcomes you!” in a font that screams science nerd.

Bigger buildings began to pop up, all in various states of disrepair. Warehouses with gigantic parking lots in front of them, the occasional civilian car still dutifully waiting for its owner as it slowly becomes one with the pavement. Tall, imposing chain link fences topped with barbed wire surrounded most of the buildings. All were broken and downed in several places however, rendering them useless. The gates ironically still stood next to their guard posts. But still they drove on, and soon the reason why was apparent as the road began to wind up onto the plateau. The sun was fully up as they pulled up to a small, stout building atop the plateau, next to an imposingly tall radio tower. The loud buzz of electricity came from within the building, and one could see that there were power lines, somehow miraculously still standing running down the plateau, back towards the warehouses and complexes they just passed.

The truck lurched to a stop, and Sarge killed the engine. Gomers boots were already on the pavement walking towards the building. He opened the door and walked inside, as the sound of a breaker being thrown echoed out of the metal shack. The radio in the truck turned to static.

“Finally!” Gomer cried with genuine relief.

Baker simply turned the radio off, stepping outside of the truck and looking back down the road towards the grassfire he had started.

“Welcome to the edge of the world, conscripts. These ruins represent the edge of the map.”
He faced away from the rising sun, waving his his cigar at he forest of pine creeping up the foothills in the distance.

“We do not currently know what, if anything strategically valuable is in those foothills. They are still 7 miles away across uncharted and rough terrain.”

Taking a long puff he added: “But we’re going to know. We refuel here, and get some rest. Now! Help Gomer with the gas cans in the shed.” Baker continued to look towards the mountains in the horizon, mind already contemplating the next move.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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Ixian:


Ixian could not help but be shocked at the display he just saw. The man...had he...did he just fall asleep, in the middle of the most dangerous place in the universe (in Ixian's eyes), without even setting up camp or any sort of camo or defenses?! Had just just gone and fallen asleep when he was being surrounded...no, now he was already surrounded with no way out, by predators?!

Ixian could not help but take pity on whatever people raised him...he tried to remember the specific words for them...guardians? Patents? Something like that, Ixian shrugged it off as he focused the barrel on the man's head through his scope and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet at extremely high speeds through the night air and right at the man's head.

"There...at least this way, he wont be alive when they tear him to pieces".

Ixian said that as he turned off the scope after firing, but then he remembered the truck he saw before.

"Wait...are they new people? For real?"

Ixian focused back on the men. It looked like they were heading towards the Industrial Yard just outside the city. If they just stopped there and left it at that, it would be fine as Ixian wouldn't have to worry if they were dangerous or bothersome, but if they continued they would surely hit the city and then they might cause issues.

"I guess I better keep an eye on them...its not quite worth it to go my..."

As Ixian was talking to himself, he began to hear it. It was only for a second, but it was enough to cause Ixian to stop looking out over the building and hide himself by ducking behind the short wall that was on the roof. From the sound of it, the "song" had come from below, street level. Ixian was curious to know what was going on down there, but not enough to deal with a Kehklor...a monster that no one had ever looked at and lived.

Ixian already did not hear the music, but he was not so stupid to check so quickly.

"I wonder if those guys got a brochure telling them what a hellhole this place is..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Martin Vole Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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Out in the desert, a lost soul treads through the starlit sands, wrapped in thick cloth, a ragged hooded jacket and pants. His back burdened by a heavy pack. He sways back and forth with each heavy step, grunting slightly as his feet, only wrapped in torn cloth for protection, had grown a sore with all the travel, not that he could feel it too well, as they were also numbed some from the cold.

"God, I miss boots," the man speaks, his voice thick with a foreign accent, something Slavic, his breath emitting in a white haze. He rubs his bald head from underneath his hood and sighs, deciding it best to stop for now. He looked over his shoulders, to his sides, almost with paranoid scrutiny, before putting down his pack and seating himself beside it. He wipes his goggles' foggy lenses, and took another look around. "Wait... wasn't settlement here?"

Fishing through his bag, he pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper, an old map that has been taped together and parts of it crudely drawn in pen, with arrows and circled spots denoting places of interest, along with stains of various things, food, oil, and what seems to be a thumbprint of dried blood. With his other hand he fishes out some crumpled up tin, that he unwraps some and pulls out a couple strips of what seems to be some kind of jerky made of who-knows-what kind of meat. Stuffing his face he scans over the map. "Mmmf... aha!" he exclaims, mouth still full, swallowing hard, tapping a part of the map. "Of course! I am... absolutely lost aaaaaannnnd total dum-dum," he mutters, hanging his dead in pathetic defeat. "Maaaaybe shoulda taken left at Albuquerque."

After a while, something came to his ears, stirring him to slowly raise his head. Steadily it got louder and louder. Tilting his head, he cuffs his ear to try to funnel the sound better. It sounded to be... music? As he got to hear it better, it became hard to tell if this was better or worse than what they played back at the colony. "Nah, that being rude, besides, yay! Music meaning habitation!" he says to... himself. He puts away his map, but then something occurs to him. "Wait, it getting louder, then is it... moving..?"

Caught in headlights, vision nearly blinded, he only just manages to instinctively kick himself out of the way as sand and dust sprays over him, and some even getting into his mouth. Spitting and coughing, he shakes and pats himself down to get the sand off him. Snapping his head around to look at what it was, it became clear to him that it was some kind of truck. As if reinvigorated, he hurriedly snatches up the straps of his pack, pulls up cloth over his mouth, and with a weaving motion skips along in the sand to get his footing as he chases after the vehicle at a breakneck pace, following within its tread marks in the sandy earth.

After a while, near breathless, he'd caught up, heaving and gasping, hands on his knees, buckled over, looking back at the rising sun briefly, a curious sigh of relief escaping his mouth, before turning back. Taking careful steps he scans over the party that had apparently exited the vehicle, his excitement slowly turning into a chill up his spine as he finally notices that they appear to be military. With a hard swallow, he trudges forward anyways, hands up preemptively, y'know... just in case.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Mike Mcalister Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Martin Vole Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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Image


Even with her worry, it was hard to ignore the time passing since her last proper rest. In the end, Tuva's head once again sought the comfort of her seat's headrest. She caught glimpses of stars in the sky, her mind drifting to happier times- the last times she could remember having had the time to take in the night sky, as her eyes began to close, and her worries subsided, at least for the time being.

She woke up in what seemed like no time at all, but what had probably been closer to a few hours, to the sergeant's booming voice over the sound of the motor and the music. The sun had blessed them with the first signs of its existence, and at the sergeant's encouragement she looked out at the world beyond. It was... unremarkable. Dead fields stretched toward the horizon, broken off by tall hills that rose up around them. Then, as the sun began to make its existence known in full, she noticed something that looked like a forest. Then, Fruitia.

They came to a halt, finally, and Tuva wasted no time in getting outside to stretch her legs.

“Welcome to the edge of the world, conscripts. These ruins represent the edge of the map.”

She was looking around when Jhon approached her.

"Kids are not impervious to have shitty decisions, shitty orders or simply shit happen to us, on the other hand at least we think we know how to clean"

She followed his gaze toward the empty third seat and nodded. She didn't know where the third conscript was, but at this point he was probably better off than them. Hopefully the walk back from the place where he'd jumped out wasn't too long. When the sun rose... Well. She didn't want to be the one caught in the desert without provisions.

"Sadly the welcoming party seems to be otherwise delayed... It could be cute too count how many eyes watch us tonight, if any"

"Eyes?" she turned to him, unsure what he meant. Critters? Scorpions? Or... something else?

As if on cue, she heard the sound like someone dry-heaving from behind the car. Was Gomer having an asthma attack? She stepped around, checking to see if there was anything she could do to help and saw, in lack of a better word, a stranger. Hands raised, well protected against the sun in torn and ragged clothing, the man had his arms raised at the site of them. Tuva, almost instinctively put her hand on her hip where her service gun was fastened, loosening the button that kept it secure as she stepped back.

"Hey, Sarge? Are we expecting company? Because, uh. We have it."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Martin Vole Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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#, as written by Davien
“Don’t worry conscripts, whatever is watching us has eyes. Anything with eyes more than likely has a face.” Sarge about faced to stare at everyone. “Anything with a face can have it forcibly removed from the rest of its body! We have been generously provided by the great nation of which you reside with enough ordinance to blow the face off of anything that could have, can, or will give us the evil eye.” Gomer rolled his eyes at the Bravado he had no doubt heard a thousand times before.

“Hey Sarge, are we expecting company? Cause, uh, we have it..” Tuva Posited.

Sgt. Baker had no sooner looked in the direction of Vole as he approached before he was in motion. Within a split second the officer had knocked the man to the ground, putting his knee on the mans shoulderblade and shoving a pistol to the mans temple.

“Stop resisting!” he demanded. Gomer was quick at his heels, taking the mans satchel.
The figure desperately wheezed out an answer as his pockets were rummaged through.

“No! No resist! I merchant!”

Sarge’s voice remained almost calm, keeping the man pinned on his chest.

“Bullshit! Ain’t nobody out here to sell to. What is your destination civilian?”

Trying to crane his head back to look at the man pinning him to the ground, Vole was met with a beefy hand shoving his head back down. “Stop resisting!” He then stood up, rolling the man onto his back. With a kick in the ribs sarge placed his boot on the mans chest. Vole, reeling from the kick in the ribs, sputtered out a panicked answer.

“Scattered settlements... other scavengers, I trade for to them. I would been in other town, but... sand shift, markers change, I get lost, so I see truck, I follow truck. Would not you too?"

Gomer held up a well used map he had found in the satchel as proof. “I think he’s fer real sarge. Still nothin west a where we are though.. Nearest settlement he’s got on here is Poncha pass, 17 clicks Northeast.”
Giving a small chuckle while still chomping on his cigar, Sarge leaned down and flicked the glass on Vole’s gas mask. “Well ya must have taken a wrong turn at Albequerque then. Whats with the getup? Whats hazardous? Do we require environmental protection ‘Merchant’?”

Vole had put his hands up and away from his many pockets since he was on the ground, but used his left to reach up and adjust his goggles. Nervously he answered:

“Th-This? Ah yes… keep sand out, sun out too. Oh! And Plus! My eyes, eh… Not so good.”

The boot was released from his chest. The wheels in sarges head seemed to be turning in double time. For a few seconds he say idle, looking at the man laying on the ground and still panting heavily. Finally, to even Gomers surprise he offered out an open hand.

“Congratulations conscript, you have just volunteered to accompany us. We just so happen to have a seat open so you don't have to ride on the roof.“

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Martin Vole Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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Still somewhat dazed, Vole processed over the events and, instead of being shot, he was offered an open hand. He was never one to snub a kind gesture, he took his hand and, pulled onto his feet he took a moment to dust himself some and catch his breath, steadying himself.

"Name is... Martin Sigma Vole, most call me Vole, and... thank you, I am sorry I-," it was then that he caught the very term he used. He pauses briefly, then chuckles nervously a bit under his breath. "You say... uh... conscript? I hear right?" Considering over the situation, he wasn't even sure what a military group was doing out here. In a way, maybe, this could work in his favor, he wasn't sure where he was anymore, traveling alone was maddening, and even military grade rations would beat another mouthful of snake and scorpion. Besides, it was the far more healthy choice to be compliant at this point. With almost an immediate change in stance, he draws up rigid and salutes Baker in the most respectful way he can muster. "Y-yes, sir!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shisa-gure "Jhon" Rinji Character Portrait: Tuva Crane Character Portrait: Ixian Character Portrait: Martin Vole Character Portrait: Sgt. Baker
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Ixian:


Ixian watches as a man approached the truck and figures. Some kind of just faded into the background, as if they were just there as cannonfodder or extras meant to be used and disposed of on a moments notice. Others seemed more prominent and important though. The man of the Desert was one, and also there was a woman. Another was a fairly old woman...or at least, in Ixian's mind she was. That was because every woman he had ever seen had access to scientific advancements that had let them maintain a far more youthful and beauty filled appearance, or already were known for their beauty and charm as receptionists often were.

Therefore, Tuva Crane in Ixian's mind was an old woman.

He had seen plenty of old men though, so he made no mistake about their age. Ixian himself had already repositioned himself to be a bit closer to them. There was quite a bit (not that much actually) of distance between them, though in truth while Ixian knew the amount of time it would take to get there, he had no clue at all about the true size of the world. But with this new spot, he could see things a lot more clearly.

BY NO MEANS did he move because Kehklors scare the hell out of him! That would be slander!

But as he saw it was morning, there was one thing he remembered to do.

"Oh sweet desert, thank you for allowing me another night of safety and life. I hope that I continue to have your favor, and that I never make the mistake of incurring your wraith".

After everything Ixian had seen in this desert, he was a firm believer that the desert was alive, and maybe even sentient. He gave thanks for every night he survived, for every meal he ate, and whenever he traveled across the desert he would first apologize, and then ask for it's grace. Unless something truly disasterous happened, he considered no reaction as a good omen. And if by some miracle, he had good luck in this desert? He gave extra thanks.

One could not really be sure if it could be called a religion, but Ixian respected the desert. He respected it, and he respected the creatures in it. He apologized for every life he took even though he never hesitated taking it, and he avoided doing anything that would draw ire and attention to himself.

Ixian had a bad premonition though he would somehow get mixed up with these people, but he was sure that it was just a fluke.