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Cleo Eriaji

The sole survivor of a proud race.

0 · 644 views · located in The Penance Tavern

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nemo

Description

The Last Tsufuru-jin

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Cleo Eriaji (CLAY-oh)
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 145 lbs / 1/2 Ton with Armor


Planet Plant. Better known as Planet Vegeta, home of the "Saiyans", a blood-thirsty alien race. Born to survive, bred to kill, the Saiyans launched a rutheless campaign across the universe, conquoring planets, wiping out all intelligent life in them and then auctioning them off to buyers. But the Saiyans were not always so powerful. At one point, they even shared their homeworld with another race: the Tsufuru-jin (also called "Tuffles").

The Tuffles were a peaceful, care-free race. For what they lacked in physical power and inability to use energy, ki or magic attacks; they made up for in technological advances unrivaled throughout the galaxy. They were a passionate society of philosophers and thinkers, favoring the arts and sciences. They constantly strove towards the betterment of their species as opposed to conquest or military training.

Although the Tuffles welcomed the Saiyans with open arms, hoping to continue co-existing with them on their home planet, it could never be so. The Saiyans were quick to ignite a long and bloody war that would come to be known as the “Tuffle-Saiyan War.” The technologic advancements the Tuffles possessed quickly allowed them to gain the upper hand in the bloody conflict. Indeed, they very well almost won the war.

Almost.

On the verge victory, the Tuffles found themselves confronted with an unfortunate happening beyond their control. The full moon, an occurrence on Planet Plant happening only once every eight years, transforming the entire remaining Saiyan population into their mightiest form: the Great Ape. The Saiyan army obliterated the Tuffle population in one night. The war was lost. Planet Plant belonged to the Saiyans.

As the Saiyan monsters descended upon the Tuffle capital, Doctor Eriaji, his wife and their newly born son desperately boarded a spacecraft, attempting to flee the planet with their lives. Unfortunately, the ship was damaged in the fight before it could achieve takeoff. Quickly setting his baby boy into the craft's only functioning escape pod (meant for documents and small-objects, not large enough for an adult), along with the holographic schematics of his life’s work, Dr Eriaji blasted his child into deep space, saving him from apocalypse.

The child’s name was Cleo.


A Wanderer



Landing on a nearby planet, Cleo was found and raised for the first five years of his life by Vrackians, a peaceful race of farmers and gatherers. Blessed with his natural Tuffle intelligence, Cleo learned and comprehended information at a supernatural speed. Reviewing the schematics given to him by his father (as well as videos recorded by his mother after his birth during a more peaceful time), Cleo quickly realized that he was not a native to his current planet. Rebuilding and modifying his escape-pod to a more suitable craft, Cleo bid farewell to the Vrackians and began his journey home, unaware that his planet was already lost and his parents already dead. He was five years old.

For the next six years, Cleo wandered the galaxy, learning more and more everyday as he went. Although most of the planets he encountered contained peaceful inhabitants, he quickly discovered the necessity to defend himself against those few with more hostile residents. Basing the design off one of his father’s schematics, Cleo began building body-armor. It wasn’t difficult, as each planet visited presented new resources, new tools and new adjustments to his original plan. With his superhuman intellect, Cleo easily completed the first model of what would eventually become the Arkangel Armor.

When Cleo at last arrived on Planet Plant, he quickly discovered the truth. The Tuffles had lost the war with the Saiyans. His family, his heritage, his very race…all wiped from existence. In his rage, Cleo attacked a small Saiyan establishment, killing many of the aliens before sustaining major injuries and being driven off. Flying from the world as quickly as he could, he crash-landed on Planet Rihatsan, where he encountered the Rihatsu. An ancient race of wise-men, Cleo found peace among the aliens for another eight years, adopting the Rihatsu code of ethics. Partially fueled by his grief for his fallen comrades, Cleo developed a deep respect for sentient life under the Rihatsu’s teachings. Respect for sentient life…except for the Saiyans, of course.

Apart from centering himself emotionally, Cleo dedicated himself to his previous work of advancing the technology he had. While he remained rooted in Rihatsan, he continuously left for deeper parts of the galaxy, discovering new materials to build better armor and weapons. Perhaps his greatest discover was of the strange substance “muteki”, a metallic liquid that seemed capable of absorbing massive amounts of energy. After molecularly freezing the compound, Cleo quickly incorporated it into his armor. He continuously went to hostile planets, testing his suit over and over again, training himself in the fires of lethal combat. Learning from each of his countless battles, the Tuffle modified his armor daily, incorporating every scrap of knowledge learned both on and off the battlefield. Once, a large platoon of Saiyan warriors landed on Rihatsan, planning to eridacate the Rihatsu and auction the planet like they did with so many before. Meeting them head-on, the young Tuffle easily emerged victorious, slaughtering his most hated foe in dark ecstacy.

"The Rihatsu were careful to teach me the moral fulfillments of life. Nature, knowledge, justice and virtue...all became beautiful to me. But in their ethical lectures, they neglected the darker satisfactions of sentient fulfillment. Killing the Saiyans awakened an ancient lust that could not be extinguished once realized. I am woefully convinced of no greater pleasure then destroying the embodiment of one’s hatred and detestation."


After years of work, Cleo finally succeeded in completing his Arkangel III Full-Body Armor, its power beyond even what Cleo had anticipated. At the age of eighteen, Cleo at last said his goodbyes to the Rihatsus, deciding that he was old enough to find his own way. Before he began searching for a path, however; he set out to test the full power of his Arkangel III and discover the limits of its fathomless command. Journeying into deep space, the last Tsufuru-Jin once again began training. He would hunt dying stars throughout the galaxy and battle the supernova that followed its death. He would pitt his flight power against the gravitional pull of a black hole, racing against the speed of light itself. He would find entire solar systems devoid of life, ending each barren planet with a flick of his wrist. Cleo took his power to new and unexplored limits.

After training himself, the Tuffle at last left in search of a new life, a new beginning…and perhaps a new reason to exist. Quietly traveling through space, he found himself on the Planet Terra. Finding a home on the planet, Cleo quickly caught the attention of the TNG, with whom he began working closely to revolutionize Terran defenses.


Arkangel III

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Cleo’s greatest achievement; the Arkangel III Full-Body Armor is constructed from the strongest materials throughout the galaxy. Its strength, power and durability endows its wearer with the formidability of gods.

The Arkangel armor utilizes a variety of alien substances, including:

Impervium: a dislocated metal alloyed from the alien metals pullum and silicis, found on the planet Fundam, located in the Carina-Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way galaxy. Pullum and silicis are smelted together to alloy impervium, but only through extreme heat. Impervium has a solidus point of 1.3 million degrees Fahrenheit, and a liquidis point of 1.5 million degrees Fahrenheit.

Exceptionally tough, hard and durable, impervium is the metal alloy used in the Arkangel. The entire Plate of the armor is almost completely comprised of impervium. Because of its superior strength and high-melting point, the alloy is practically impervious to lead, plasma, and most other piercing, heat or smashing attacks. Impervium is also extremely magnetic (30,000 gauss), and is in fact held together in the Arkangel design via a series of densely energized internal magnetic fields.

Muteki: a metallic liquid found on the planet Peniculus in the Crux-Scutum Arm of the Milky Way galaxy, Muteki has been christened “Tek” by TETRS troopers. Muteki liquid has the ability to absorb massive amounts of energy, a trait which proved extremely useful in furthering the defensive capabilities of the Arkangel. The substance was molecularly frozen and incorporated into the armor. A thick layer is plastered over the Plate, while a Muteki “gel” substance flows freely throughout the Pillar. Two densely concentrated “gems” of Muteki are also embedded in the palms of the Arkangel.

The ARKNGL III is composed of four layers of armor: the Plate, Pillar, Foam and Skin.

Plate: The Plate is the outer section of the armor, and the only layer that is completely exposed to the environment. The Plate is constructed entirely out of high carbon impervium, a dislocated metal alloyed from alien elements. Only the hellish core of a Neutron Star (1.5 Million ºF) can generate the heat required to forge impervium.

Pillar: The Pillar is an elastic shell just below the Plate. It serves a myriad of important purposes essential to the functionality of the ARKNGL. Its primary function is structural support. The Pillar keeps the Arkangel closely knitted together through a series of densely energized magnetic fields. The Pillar is also responsible for movement throughout the system. A neurological pathway at the base of Cleo's neck connects to his central nervous system. The pathway collects chemical signals released by the brain and transmits them into kinetic action. Whatever Cleo tells the suit to do in his mind, it does. The Pillar seals the remaining two layers of armor, air-locking Cleo from a potentially hostile environment. Muteki Gel flows freely throughout the Pillar, offering significant protection and further absorption of energy concentrates.

Foam: The Foam is a thick layer of protective foam separating the Pillar from the Skin. Engineered to absorb up to 10 million newtons of force, the Foam is capable of protecting Cleo's structure from even the most powerful exertion of force or shock wave of energy.

Skin: The Skin is the final layer of the Arkangel Armor. Thin and tight, it clings closely to Cleo's body like a jumpsuit. The Skin is responsible for accommodating all of Cleo's biological needs, as well as maintaining reasonable living conditions throughout Arkangel in general. An extensive temperature regulator keeps the entire suit at a safe temperature in even the most extreme environments, while a Thermal Disruptor nullifies his heat signature. A particle filter prevents any poisons or toxins from entering into Cleo's system, including radiation and electromagnetic waves. The Skin's bioscan technology sterilizes and seals any prevalent injuries upon detection (although series medical attention is not something Arkangel is able to give). Jutting from the Skin along the shoulders, back, and quadriceps are a series of energy generators, which supply a constant shield of densely protective energy around the Plate, in addition to the Muteki Gel coat.

Directly in the center of the ArkangelIII is the Fusion Reactor. Arguably the most important piece of the armor, the Fusion Reactor supplies seemingly limitless power to the ARKNGL III Armor.

The Arkangel III Armor utilizes a variety of skills and offensive energies.

Super-Kinetics – The suit allows for impossibly dexterous range of motion, speed, strength and flight.

Energy Manipulation – Draws upon the suit’s massive stores of energy, centering it into a single focus point to be used, usually in a beam of high-intensity light.

Element Manipulation – Draws upon natural gases, molecular compounds and binding energies to manipulate and accelerate charged particles (ions, positrons, electrons, etc.)

Sound Manipulation – The suit can create sonic frequencies of all kinds. Whether it be to change Cleo’s voice or to release a devastating shock wave of sound, the uses vary

Magnetic Manipulation – The suit can create or nullify magnetic attraction, pulling attractive particles out of the very air to be used as needed, without disrupting the magnetic field used by the Pillar to keep the suit together.

Spirit Manipulation – The most lethal energy the suit is capable of harnessing. Cleo draws upon the essence of life itself, forming the powerful energies into tangible substance.

Muteki Gems – Although the entire Arkangel III Armor is coated by the layer in this stuff, two “gems” of densely concentrated Muteki are embedded in the palms of the armor. If aimed and timed correctly, Cleo can absorb incoming energized attacks, store them and then release them in the same manner in which they were received. He cannot however, alter the energy once it’s been absorbed. It can only be stored and released

The ANDEE armor (used by TETRS) was inspired by Cleo's Arkangel. The Arkangel has all of the ANDEE's functions and protections.

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So begins...

Cleo Eriaji's Story

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#, as written by Nemo
"I understand completely," Cleo nodded, "...although do not forget, if you accept this assignment you would be under TNG command. While I'm sure our officers would refrain from giving you explicit orders, you would be under a superior."

The setting changes from The Bluff to Gambit's Bar

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji comes out of fuckin-nowhere, opening a multi-dimensional restricted singularity wormhole in Gambit's. Extending his palms, the Tuffle took the charged shots in the Tek-gems in his gloves, absorbing the lethal particle energy.

"Not nice," he affirmed, before warping out of the establishment.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Government Center

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji looked up from his work, at a nearby welding bench, a plasma torch and frame-cutter in his hands. Thick goggles lay over Cleo's eyes, his hands gaunleted and a strange looking mechanism latched over his wrist. Aside from a pair of work-pants and tough leather boots, the Tuffle was shirtless, his lab coat and button-up hung over a nearby coat rack.

The research lab Raphael had teleported into was also eerily empty. The place was huge. On every corner of the white-washed laboratory were gadgets and mechanisms of all kinds. And yet what should have been a hard-working team of balding scientists fretting about the place was only one man working quietly on his own.

"Emperor Raphael McGregor," Cleo spoke up, his eyes returning to his work. Blue sparks fireworked off a scrap of heated metal. "I wasn't expecting you so soon. Unarmed and without your soldiers, no less." The Tuffle's voice was as callous and emotionless as ever... his tone gray and indecipherable. Cleo picked up the piece of heated metal with gaunleted fingers, holding it up to a pale light as he examined it.

"I am curious," Cleo continued, his eyes never leaving his work, "does the prospect of being alone and unguarded in Terra's most heavily-fortified military base unsettle you? Are you so confident in your ascended abilities that you'll storm this place single-handedly?" He returned the metal to the bench, igniting his plasma torch as he prepared to re-heat it.

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji 's attention remained focused on his work, speaking numbly as his nimble hands masterfully worked the metal between his thumbs. "I do not lightly 'underestimate' anyone or anything, emperor McGregor. The Aschen Confederation has long superceeded Terra in technological developments. You were playing with nuclear fusion when we they just discovering the light bulb. Your kind has also had access to a plethora of recourses and galactic phenomena that the humble humans of Terra have never had the pleasure to indulge in. The Aschen are, in every sense of the word, technologically superior to the Terrans." The welder stopped, the metal clanged to the bench. Slowly, Cleo looked up from his work, pushing back his goggles and looking Raphael straight in the eye. McGregor might have noticed that his ears were pointed like an elf, poking out from his long hair.

"Then again, emperor," Cleo's voice was as cold as steel, "I am not a Terran."

His eyes moved quickly to the blue-green material Raphael presented. "Hm. I could not say for sure at first glance. It does possess some level of crystallinity. A glass-ceramic or crystal polymer, perhaps. Some holohyaline rock from your home world, maybe." Cleo's gray gaze shifted back to Raphael. His face was as stoic and blank as chiseled marble. He looked very young. Too young for the way he spoke. "But I imagine, emperor, that this IS likely one of your precious Aschen recourses. One of the minerals or elements that gives your people such a prestigious edge over the Terrans." He almost seemed to shrug, but of course, that would have been far too much movement for the statue-like Tsufuru-jin. "Since I do not know the exact nature of the item you present to me, I hope you'll enlighten me as to the nature of its existence."

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#, as written by Nemo
"Magical energies?" Cleo raised an eyebrow. "How curious. I have never seen a tangable substance capable of exuding manna fields. I thought only sentient life-forms were capable of that." His arm reached out to touch it, but quickly drew back. His eyes moved from the Materia back to Raphael. As naturally curious as the scientist was about new phenomena, his dislike towards McGregor still prevailed.

"I should like to examine it some time, if it is conveniant for you," Cleo nonchalantly returned back to his work-bench, preparing to get back to his welding... before his neck snapped up in vivid attention at the mention of the word 'Saiyan.'

A nearly nonexistent flash of rage streaked across Cleo's face.

"The Saiyans are nothing," Cleo attempted to keep his usual callous demeanor, but there were traces of iron in his voice. "And they are, for the most part, extinct. Only a few of their kind remain throughout the galaxy. Inbred apes..." He shook his head. "But that bears little significance to Terra. I said the Aschen were technologically superior to Terra... not that the Terrans were wholly inferior altogether. There is beauty and passion in this planet unmatched in all the Mutliverse. I have never found anything like it." His brows furrowed a fraction of an inch. "And I hardly think it is fair that such a bright and hopefuly light should be extinguished from the galaxy simply because they do not have the military means to defend themselves."

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#, as written by Nemo
"I know the sort of power you would promise these people, emperor," Cleo answered coldly, removing his gaunlets as he thumbed over the smooth scrap of metal he'd been working on earlier. "Granted, I do not believe it would be all bad. You would feed us. Heal us. Shower us with riches and gift us with your magnificent fleets." He exhaled. "...but we would lose ourselves in the process. Our deep culture and rich history would be wiped clean... mutilated and forged anew under the Aschen banner. You would integrate yourself into every aspect of our society, lashing the face of our planet with the cruel image of your pompuous empire until we either bowed beneath the yolk of your torturous hand or blinded ourselves under the river of our own blood." The Tuffle shook his head, an almost weary, tiresome expression evident on his otherwise expressionless face.

"Yes, I know the sort of power you would promise these people. It is not the sort of powert they need."

The Tsufuru-jin took a moment, resting his hands on the workbench as if gathering his thoughts. He scooped up the piece of scrap metal, presenting to Raphael. It was as smooth and perfect as stainless steel. "This," he began numbly, "is impervium. It is one of the strongest metals in the multiverse, and one of the only recourses that is uniquely Terran." He blinked, lids heavy above his pale gray eyes. "It is also, aside from the plating on my armor, the last piece of impervium possessed by the Terran National Government. The rebels took most of it with them when they left. This is all we scavenged." He flicked the plasma-torch back on, his fingers tracing lines in the scrap. "When you entered, I was repairing certain dislocations in the metal's alloy structure. I was making it weaker." He looked up.

"I plan to destroy it by tonight."

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji watched, more then a bit troubled as Raphael liquidized a sheet of impervium as if it were candle wax. Cleo regretted not bringing a scouter with him to his work. Just how strong HAD Raphael become?

"Tri-Strontium is your Aschen equivelant of impervium, I believe," Cleo listed off one of the more famous Aschen metals, "quite strong itself, though not nearly as magnetic as its Terran counterpart. Nonetheless, you have Duranthium (as you said), Trinnium, Trinnium-Caramite, and, if you consider it a 'metal', Nanomesh. Although that's really more of a Kinetic/Thermal energy displacement substance. Then of course, you have titanium and tungsten, but those are used everywhere."

"And while perhaps you have grown powerful, Raphael," Cleo shook his head, "you are not a god. Even if you possessed all the omnipotence in the multiverse, you would not be a god." His eyes shimmered, his voice taking a slower lower monotone. "You'd be a man with all the power in the world perhaps... but you'd still be a man. And you would destroy yourself eventually."

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo's expression hardly changed as Raphael presented proof of his godliness, cocking his head slightly as he listened to McGregor's mad musings. "In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle defined a god to be either intrinsically virtuous... or naturally depraved. A god had no sense of choice or direction. He did things in accordance to his nature; be that supreme good or unfathomable evil."

"But you, Raphael, are not a god. Your power may be eternal but your mind remains mortal." His lips almost quirked into a smile. "Do you think knowledge and intellegence constitutes a strong mind? Do you think because I can name all of Newton's kinematic equations or recite all of Socrates' dialogues through The Apology, that I am a mentally sound man?" Cleo exhaled slowly, brushing one of his bangs out from his pallid eyes.

"A man is defined first by his motive, then by his action," he continued, his calm, steel-laced voice as articulate as ever, "Without virtue at the heart of a motive, the action will always be corrupted in the end. Do not mistake me, Raphael. I do not say this to insult or demean you. I say this because I believe it is true. Your power will grow in you like a cancer, poisoning your all-too human mind until there is nothing left but the charred husk you once called a body." Cleo shook his head in resignation. "If you would allow me, I would seek to help you. But I know you would refuse me even if asked you. Such is your fate."

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji merely shrugged, as if he'd been expecting everything Raphael was going to say, word for word. "Think what you will, Emperor. Time will tell in the end. You will see soon enough. But of course, by then, it will have been too late."

The setting changes from Government Center to Gambit's Bar

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#, as written by Nemo
A strange, armored figure walked into Gambit's, his metal feet clacking against the floor with every metronomic step. He stopped suddenly, his masked face looking about at the establishment, helmet turning slowly to each corner of the room.

The mask suddenly retracted, folding in plates over the wearer's jaw down to his neck, revealing the man behind the armor. His young and emotionless face could have chiseled from white marble. His pallid grey eyes flickered from object to object, his lips turning up in a disappointing smirk. Anyone with access to TNG Media might recognize him as Cleo Eriaji, a head scientist at Terran research facilities... and currently working with the Aschen Empire.

"What a peculiar place...." he hummed to himself, analyzing the bar as if it the entire place were just some scientific data sheet that he could analyze and explain. Could he truly find what he was looking for in a place like this? Other people did everyday. They came into this bar and found their lives unexpectedly changed, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad. Cleo could only hope he would find what he sought in this notorious establishment.

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Cleo Eriaji seemed to sigh as he noticed the orc clan making trouble in the bar. What a pathetic inconvenience... and unfortunately one that Cleo was duty-bound to confront. The armored figure made a slow march towards the orc leader, stopping several feet away from the hulking beast and extending his palm in a threatening challenge.

"Hold it right there," he called out to the orcs as they made their way to the side alley, his voice amplified from a speaker within his helmet, "please disarm yourselves and submit to Imperial arrest. I have no desire to fight you, and I am authorized to kill you if need be. Save yourselves the pain. You are causing a public disturbance and are openly threatening Wing City citizens." His tone was bland and grey, saturated in impossible boredom. Clearly this was the last thing the Tuffle wanted to do right now.

He took little notice of Veji, though that was only because his attention was occupied at the moment.

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji only sighed once again. Why did the always fight? Everything always became harder when they decided to fight. His helmet swiveled curiously to the strange battle-stance the orcs assumed around him, eyeing the pointed tips of their spears with obvious amusement.

"Standard flanking maneuver?" he asked, the monotone manner of his voice changing JUST enough so that his words could be interpreted as a valid question, "it is a curious thing, is it not, that the oldest combat formation in the book is still one of the most useful?" Perhaps the Tuffle chuckled. It was impossible to tell if there was ANY emotion at all inside that gleaming mass of armor. "Perhaps your tactical prowess is useful against common mercenaries or tribesmen of your own kind, but you will find that they are all but obsolete against me. I ask you again, stand down. The patrons you were terrorizing appear to have fled, and I'm willing to forego an arrest provided that you relinquish your weapons. I have no desire to fight you, and less of a desire to kill you. There is no need for violence."

As he said the words, his hands returned to his side, briefly upturning out from his waist in a passive gesture. A strange, glowing aura was beginning to wave off of the plates of his armor.

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji was clearly not impressed with the orcs' reasoning.

"...perhaps you don't understand..." he cleared his throat, "the fact that I am physically smaller then the rest of you is completely irrelevant. I am only at 40% maximum power, and I still have enough fusion nucleic energy to lift my finger into the air, shoot at a star 13.5 lightyears away and impart enough gravitational potential energy to make a supernova out of it. Do you understand what I'm saying to you? You. Are. Not. A. Threat."

The Tuffle looked up briefly as the Aschen prepared to raid the bar. He sighed a bit. "...but that is."

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#, as written by Nemo
A low growl emitted from beneath Cleo's Arkangel armor. The Aschen were here... and they wouldn't leave until every threat in this building was dead or dying. The gas had absolutely no affect on him, and neither did the anti-manna field. The blinding energy from the light pulse was caught in his visor. He was unphased.

"Anyone who does desire to become part of a fight, leave immediately!" the Tsufuru-Jin bellowed, amplifying the sound via the speakers in his helmet. The orc's spearhead would flat-out break in half as it slammed against Cleo's armor. The Tuffle stumbled forward a bit from the force of the strike, but otherwise seemed unconcerned with the attack. There were more immediate threats to be dealt with. Cleo's scouters immediately picked up Havok, his visor flaring up as it detected the energy from the Scatteran's theatrical entrance. He almost grinned. At least he wasn't alone here... and a warrior like Havok was as good as a squad of Terran marines. Maybe even better.

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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji stood before Aiyanna, his Arkangel charging with unkempt power. The fusion reactor in the center of his breastplate was glowing brightly.

"I have no desire to fight with you, Aiyanna," even Cleo's gray monotone was beginning to steel-over with a sense of urgency, "I have made my desired position in this war very clear to your Emperor. I would remain nuetral in this fight. I would help the Terran populace to best of my ability, and in return, swear no aggression or hostilities towards the Empire, nor aid towards the Resistance. Is this not a reasonable request?" His gaze flickered attentively to each of the Tech Con soldiers, making no visible effort to stand down. Plated fists shook at his sides.

Cleo's scouters were working overtime, running up and down every inch of Aiyanna in a desperate attempt to size her up. The Tuffle felt a strange sense of understanding as he stood before the synthetic being. In many ways, this Android was more like Cleo then any human could ever be.

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#, as written by Nemo
((repost))

Cleo stood before Aiyanna, his Arkangel charging with unkempt power. The fusion reactor in the center of his breastplate was glowing brightly.

"I have no desire to fight with you, Aiyanna," even Cleo's gray monotone was beginning to steel-over with a sense of urgency, "I have made my desired position in this war very clear to your Emperor. I would remain nuetral in this fight. I would help the Terran populace to the best of my ability, and in return, swear no aggression or hostilities towards the Empire, nor aid towards the Resistance. Is this not a reasonable request?" His gaze flickered attentively to each of the Tech Con soldiers, making no visible effort to stand down. Plated fists shook at his sides.

Cleo's scouters were working overtime, running up and down every inch of Aiyanna in a desperate attempt to size her up. The Tuffle felt a strange sense of understanding as he stood before the synthetic being. In many ways, this Android was more like Cleo then any human could ever be.

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#, as written by Nemo
"And what secrets are those, Aiyanna?" Cleo took a determined step forward, "what cosmic anomalies are you determined to command, now that you are no longer restricted under the chains of the Empire?" His fingers flexed. His armor shifted slightly under his weight, the impervium plates reflecting a faint, glowing aura about the Tuffle's figure.

"You must understand my reluctance in spontaneously joining an Aschen AI in a mysterious research mission," he elaborated slowly, perhaps a bit humorously, "...especially considering your counterpart's tendency to assimilate entire worlds for the sake of galactic conquest. What is it you are seeking, and what will you do with it when you have it? I will not agree to anything until you have told me this."

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Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
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#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji focused his visor on the crystal, his scouter vainly attempting to get some semblance of a lock on the mysterious material. It certainly exuded some sort of energy, but Cleo couldn't seem to configure what KIND of energy, or how much for that matter.

"I believe your god-emperor showed me something of the like when we first met," Cleo stepped forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. If you wanted to send Cleo Eriaji off his guard, forget the naked supermodels or truckloads of money. Show him a cosmic enigma. The Tuffle extended his hand slowly, as if uncertain about his own actions. "...may I? Is sufficiently stabilized for touch-contact analysis?"

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#, as written by Nemo
"By Vegeta..." Cleo gasped. He could not contain his surprise. "I've never seen a trigonal crystalline solid exhibit amendable molecular matrix properties." He took the crystal in both hands, his plated fingers gently coursing over the quartz-looking material. He was a child with a new toy.

"Is it the quantum energy imbued in its lattice structure that gives it such a commanding joule-output, then?" he inquired genuinely, "this is unreal... a living rock. Where did you find it?" He took no immediate notice of Myles. Although the young man's presence was made known to the Tuffle on his scouter, the scientists was almost completely unaware of anything else except the crystal in his hand and the AI before him. He was thoroughly entranced.

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#, as written by Nemo
"It is as if it was aware that it was going to break..." the Tuffle mused, "...and took pre-emptive measures to prevent its eventual destruction. I am truly fascinated." He tapped at the crystal. "It is indeed curious that it should respond to gamma radiation, electric energy (and consequently, magnetic field impulsion), but not to a nuclear reaction. I must wonder..." His finger ran a circle around the glowing light encircling his sternum. "...how would it behave when introduced to fusion? Can this material's matter be converted to energy like any other tangible substance?"

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