OOC: Nice little 'team spotlight' jam post here, featuring the full character roster of Rhea & Co. and of course their respective players as well. Many thanks for your time and effort, everyone! Special and additional thanks to Geardirector for originally sparking the idea, and also coming up with the recommended listening:
IC: - Forsi / Main gates Lights; music; camera; roll 'em. Sharp fade from black... focus. Rhea Heartsflame stood, green eyes steady as a rock, nimble feet planted squarely in the dust. Left hand on a knapsack strap, right hand on her swordbelt with the thumb hooked under. Lithe and careless, deadly controlled. In the desolate east, the first blaze of crimson sun kissed the night and unleashed fire in the sky. The guardian Sentinel trio at the gates didn't say much, but the scarred Po-Lesterin sergeant chewed his toothpick and looked the team over and said 'alright, miss... but keep 'em in line', and the hulking Su-Skakdi bruiser with the busted left incisor took a hasty step back as they passed, and the tall dark Vortixx lieutenant just leaned against the heavy stone wall and watched. Rhea winked at him and smiled, trim white teeth flashing in the shadows, and was satisfied to see the slow flush of blood across his high reptilian cheekbones and the way he quickly averted his glance... and then casually swung it back an instant later. Just in time to meet the frigid unblinking gaze of the Axe, and watch the corded muscles swell and ripple in the brutal jaw and neck structure as the bodyguard shook his head once, very slightly and very very slowly and very very verrry deliberately. Heck yeah. It was good to be boss. They walked into Forsi, the slender white-armored Toa of Plasma at their head, their trail-battered combat boots scraping a little on the hard-packed wasteland sand. Sharp pan left, slow zoom... focus. Nero. Le-Toa. Hunter, tracker, lone predator. A hulk of honed muscle just aft and to starboard of the leader's right shoulder, machete at his belt and a raw north wind in his smoldering venom-green eyes. A feral wilderness killer, built like a tiger, born to survive... and thrive. Next rank back, camera tilt... focus. The dawning light cracked over the nearest run-down shack, reflected off the silent Toa's armour. It exposed the many scratches and wear on the once bright orange armour, now a solid burnt colour. Kubrick absentmindedly fingered his belt-worn quiver, rough but nimble fingers twiddling the ends of two explosive bolts. Soft combat boots stirred the dust of the wasteland below them. Silent, taut. Reliable. Grey eyes staring out under a makeshift hat, the Toa of Iron ignored the guards, looking instead for any inhabitants that could pose a real threat. None found, he instead glanced at his travelling companions, watching as the Axe gave threatening looks to any who would be foolish enough to cross half a dozen armed mercenary-types. A haggler approached them, attempting to cheat them out of some coin for "high-quality protosteel". A glance and a shifted longsword drove him away... Group centre... focus. Unlike the previous travelers, the tall figure that followed was more than welcome to return curious gazes from the onlookers... with a cold, unnerving stare of chill inquisition. Eyes devoid of warmth glowing from beneath the shadow cast by the white hood like amethyst lightstones. The guardsmen who looked into them found themselves exposed, not liking the knowing, almost smug, glint that flashed through the cold eyes. Annoying old woman... ...wily old bird... Zelvin smiled to herself as she walked, observing both their onlookers and her own companions. both in the front, behind, and around her she was surrounded by virile young spires ready to burst, the one in the front of the group most of all. Such ambition, such passion and unbridled enthusiasm... it was intoxicating. There was an uncharacteristic spring in the old woman's step as she strided with deliberate steps after the others. For now, Zelvin felt like she'd shedded years of what time's wear and tear had done to her. She was young again, young and ready to take on the world, ready to do something outrageously foolish and go on to live and learn. A wolfish smile crept across the obscured face, and the scythe's blade glowed threateningly in the morning light. Sharp whirl, camera dive... focus. Elysi breathed in deeply, letting the cool sea breeze enter her. It was unfamiliar, lacking the smokey scents of her home or the crisp dryness of the village of stone. Even as the cold desert night retreated against the sun's merciless rays, the air of Forsi was still moist. She felt it against her armour, seeping beneath to touch her skin. It was alien and uncomfortable, but there was something more to it. Her tongue ran along her lower lip. The elder of the Ril daughters paused, her armoured feet halting against the gravel path below. She cared not for the inquiring glances of nearby guards and waking merchants, nor did she care for the fact that her compatriots were not waiting on her. In that instant, all that mattered was her and the sky. Head craned up to stare at the blood-red heavens, Elysi allowed a slight smile to flicker across her face. She could sense the currents running across the surface of her crimson armour, sending miniscule jolts through her skin. The sky was full of darkening clouds, hanging ominously in the air. It was humid, she noticed. The mysterious weather patterns that had brought about the earlier sandstorm were still in affect. Her gaze traveled down to her left hand, its fingers unconsciously closing into a fist. Elysi could feel the buildup of static, the light of the heavens readying to roar. It was exciting. She opened up her hand, watching sparks wildly erupt from her palm and into the air. Certain guards shifted, while others recoiled. Here she was, a red-clad bounty hunter in the middle of a Sentinel-controlled port town, playing with electricity. Her little show stopped as soon as it started. The electricity in the air had yet to fade, with all signs pointing to it intensifying. She would be long gone by then. Lightning was her domain, but the Toa dared not risk the wrath of its true masters. Her arm dropped to her side. It was time to leave. No more lollygagging. "Watch out for the thunderstorm," she commented matter-of-factly to a nearby guard. Young blood professional. As she moved to catch up with her group, the sound of crunching gravel beneath her feet, Elysi wondered if the emotions she was feeling were a result of the electricity or her new, future endeavors. Had she a choice, she would choose the latter. The future was uncertain, but it would definitely be exciting. Pan, tilt... abrupt shockwave effect, steady... focus. Guards weren’t quite sure what to think of the black Toa that followed. He looked intimidating at first, boasting an impressive physique that wasn’t just for show. Even his hands looked rough, marred by calluses and scars he obviously didn’t earn in an honest day’s work. What the guards weren’t expecting was his smile: small, almost careless. His eyes were the same too, bright crimson orbs flickering left and right in search of something interesting. It was odd, yet everything about his demeanor seemed genuine. It just didn’t feel genuine. There were no telltale signs that give him away. Nothing looked off. His expression, his walk, it was all flawless. Yet, there was something about him that only a few could see. For the briefest of moments though, excitement flared in his eyes. It was aggressive and passionate, eager for a challenge. He was hungry for action. A peaceful life had been too mundane for him and it left him unsatisfied. He missed the adventure, the spoils, the fighting. There was no thrill that compared. Wild card. Whatever Rhea had in store, he was ready for it. Camera hold... wait... down in front, focus in the rear. As I walked by, the lieutenant gave me a suspect scowl, I responded in kind and then some until he backed off. “Just keep your dog on a short leash” “It’s not a dog, it’s a wolf” Karv growled at the declaration, another noise to meld with the others rushing into my ears. I didn’t shut it out, I didn’t dampen it, I welcomed it. Few others could hear the world around them like I could, and at times I swore I heard it all fit together. Like right now. The ragged breathing of my compatriots, the sand crunching beneath our feet, the wind blowing across our steely visages and blaring out into the horizon… all these noises had a place, a purpose, and the moment had a rhythm. The rhythm was tense and fast-paced, moving quickly with no regard for what came next; it got wrapped up in itself and powered on through thick and thin. But it felt off, something was wrong, wrong with me. I wasn’t taking part in the rhythm; I didn’t move with it, I was only observing it, watching. I was always watching. Plays a lone hand. Hunts a long trail. I didn’t know for certain, but maybe the reason I welcomed it was because I wanted a little of that to rub off on me, a sense of purpose and belonging that I hadn’t felt since the accident. I wanted to move away from it, to find something new, and this could be it. I would play along, follow the rhythm until I once again moved with it, and then I would be back. I usually considered hope a foolish notion, but right here and now, I permitted a self-satisfied little smirk to slip across my face for a moment, and even surprised myself by winking at a nearby guardswoman. Confidence had rarely suited me, but today I wore it well. Sweeping pivot, aerial slice... long zoom out. Nero's eyes moved, left and right and left again. His face was still. Fade to black... Rhea's left boot swirled the dust as it fell. ... Cut.
