Mei-Chan
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•.After about twenty minutes of hearing that Victor guy go on and on screaming at random recruits as well as telling Remel to be sure the equipment is replaced, Raven realized it had suddenly fallen silent. “Now, then…” She heard footsteps, and then the instructor was walking right past her, untying the ropes holding down the cover on the larger, first cart that was brought in. “Let me introduce you…” He suddenly whipped the cover to the side to display a strange, naked creature inside a cage. “To your enemy!” It was in a sitting position, with shaggy grey hair falling in its face. Skin was missing from its nose to its bottom jaw, and also from half of its torso. Bands wrapped tightly around it and attached to the cart and cage. It was impaled with strange black rods from seemingly every angle and held immobile. Its eyes were wide, and it appeared to be smiling; slobber dribbled down from its open mouth and collected on the floor of the cage. Dried blood caked its left shoulder, and its stomach was slightly bulging. “This is a 5-meter class male-type Titan, and they only get larger.”
Raven stared up at this creature just as its eyes looked her way, slack-jawed. “Fifty years ago, every last human on earth was just as helpless against these things as you all are today.” Commander Victor leaned against the cage and rapped his knuckles against one of the wooden slats standing between the Titan and himself. “Because let’s face it; if not for all the bindings, every last one of you would be dead right now. Cut their arm off, they’ll just grow it back. Blow their head off, same thing. Spill its guts…but it doesn’t have any to spill to begin with. No matter how many are killed, more take their place. They just disintegrate. They have no interest in eating animals or plants…just humans, very specifically. And humans had no way to bring these things down.” He wandered over to the second cart, but Raven raised her hand and he paused, staring her down.
“Sir…you made it sound like they can’t be killed, but then said something that implied they have been killed before. Some…elaboration is required.” She said, watching as he turned towards her and started walking towards her. Commander Victor didn’t stop until he was directly in front of her, towering over the thirteen-year-old. Raven gulped, staring up at him. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, twisting it so that she turned away from him and her arm was positioned behind her back. With his other hand he suddenly pulled out a pocketknife (though Raven herself didn’t actually see this) and pressed the cool metal against the skin at the nape of her neck, causing her to yelp. “S-sir!”
Without a word, the blade disappeared into Commander Victor’s vest pocket. He shoved Raven to her knees as he spun to walk back towards the second cart, and she fell with a gasp. This is turning out to be an excellent first day… She stood up, brushed herself up, and went back to attention position, eyes wide. Victor was untying the ropes holding down the covers on the second cart, and when he pulled it off, stacks of 3DMG units sat neatly in front of them. “Today, we have the 3-dimensional Movement Gear that allows us to combat the titans. It is comprised of hand grips, piston-shot grapple hooks, a gas-powered mechanism, and an iron wire propeller with plug-in blades. As the name clearly states, it allows us to fight in a 3-dimensional space (up and down, forward and back, and side-to-side) rather than a 2-dimensional space (forward and back or side-to-side). You need immense physical strength and balance for this, and NO ONE can become a soldier without being able to stay upright while suspended by the cables. These units are the reason why you have to wear the leather belt harnesses that quite a few of you clearly had more than a little trouble putting on.”
He held up the mechanism, then walked over to the horse that had come in behind the second cart, untying it from there and walking up to them. “The ability to ride a horse is also very important; there is simply no escaping a Titan on foot. This,” he hoisted the 3DMG unit in his left hand, “…and this,” he gave a yank to the reigns, causing the horse to snort, “…are your new best friends. At this time, all of you must walk in a single file line next to that Titan on your way to sign out your issued gear. But remember, it’s not fully released to you until you pass the exam.” Raven sighed and began to walk, shuddering as she stepped straight towards the Titan. People fell into step behind her, and she stared that 5-meter dead in the eye, even paused to glare at it for a moment and try to force one of those serious faces she kept seeing on everyone else. After a moment, she cracked and started walking again as she burst out into a series of giggles. Instructor Victor shook his head, then sighed and walked off massaging the bridge of his nose when some guy behind Raven named Chester stopped to begin flexing his muscles, grunting, and hollering in the Titan’s face. Even Raven gave him a funny look.•
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•.Raven closed her eyes and sighed, waiting for the instructor to begin speaking. A horse-drawn cart carrying something boxlike that seven meters tall and wrapped completely in cloth was wheeled into the field, with another behind it that was also covered. A saddled-and-bridled horse was led behind the second cart. From the cart with the strange, taller covered thing came the occasional shudder and groan. The other one sounded like a bunch of metal somethings clattering together with each jolt of the cart. They stopped dead center in front of the gathering of trainees; there were fifty in all. The instructor paused, having a word with one of the men who’d been leading the carts, nodded, and walked forward.
He stalked around in front of each recruit, looking them over carefully. He glanced at Levi, who took a spot directly behind Vlad, cold hardened eyes peircing the midget ruffian’s own. He walked another meter and a half, pausing in front of Raven, who had been front and center, glanced at her for a moment, moved like he was about to move on, then spun on her. “WHAT’S YOUR NAME, KID? WHERE ARE YOU FROM?” He hollered in her face, spittle flying from his lips. Raven flinched away.
“R-Raven Bla…fe..” She started, freezing up as her eyes widened. People from “civilized” zones were so loud! And not to mention unnecessarily violent, remembering that kick earlier. Raven’s stomach throbbed at the memory, and she whimpered a little. She realized he was still waiting for a response, and she choked out the last part of her name. “Blackfeather, Sir!!! From the woods!”
His silvered brow raised, and he sneered at her. “Are you sure, girly? That took you a moment. Any woods in particular?” Somewhere behind her, she could hear someone snickering. A risked glance over her shoulder, and she could see Levi shuddering with muffled laughter. He caught her gaze and his eyes narrowed in a glare. Before she could react, something caught her chin and forced her to look forward, where the Commanding Officer was back to hollering in her face. “I SAID, ANY WOODS IN PARTICULAR?”
“N-no, Sir! Any woods’ll do!” She said immediately, somewhat confused by the question. This time, more people started laughing. The CO took a step back from her, rolling his eyes before shooting chilling glances at every last of the giggling recruits. He then looked back down at her. “And why do you want to join the military?”
“To…” What could she possibly answer that with? Well, the highest and most powerful were the ones who she considered to be corrupt, and the only way to fix that problem was to get right up there with them, right? “To join the Military Police Brigade, sir!”
“I see. Well, you’ll make good Titan bait.” With that, he stalked off, and she felt an odd sense of…embarrassment? Her face was heating up, and she broke her form long enough to yank the tie out of her hair and shake her head, setting the still-wet strands loose. They fell down her back all the way to her waist, and her bangs hid her face from view. She snapped the band around her wrist and then resumed standard attention position. She was still shuddering and red-faced when Commander Victor began the same set of shouted questions with a boy sixth in line, three rows over. After that, he noticed Remel’s outfit, stalking over to her. “WHERE IS YOUR VEST, RECRUIT? And…how the hell did you manage to damage your equipment so severely before the first day?” He didn’t even bother commenting on the ruined sleeves of the girl’s collared shirt.•
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•.She noticed a man stand up and go to shower, then take off out the door jogging. He looked…grown. He’d probably been dangerously close to the max age limit when he enlisted (though she couldn’t remember what the max age exactly was), which she found to be fairly interesting. There was bound to be quite a story behind it, after all…Raven spent a few more minutes fighting with her uniform, reigning in her thoughts.
With a frustrated huff, Raven yanked the belts off of her and laid them out on the floor, worried that she might have damaged one of the clips. She had already been warned against risking such a thing when the equipment was issued to her…she noticed a girl across the room had been mirroring her, also trying to figure it out, and she smiled lightly over. It was mainly because she was glad not to be the only one who couldn’t figure out how to put the damned outfit on. Behind her, she heard footsteps and a sigh. “You’re hopeless.”
Raven turned and saw the drool boy from earlier, looking down his nose at her with his arms crossed over his chest. She couldn’t help but notice he had his outfit on perfectly, and there wasn’t a single wrinkle in his uniform. His hair was neatly combed and parted. His expression was cold and spiteful. She choked on a laugh; he was even shorter than she’d thought! The Native American teen jumped to her feet, which forced the boy to look up. Way up, ’cause the top of his head didn’t even reach her shoulder. She doubled over a moment later. “Hahahahahahahaha…..” The boy clearly suffered from Little Man syndrome. He glared down at her for a moment before aiming a sudden, unexpected kick for her gut that left her gasping as he stomped out the cabin door. It fell quiet, aside from the occasional gasp and mutter.
The girl straightened after a few moments, shaking her head and struggling to laugh past the choking pain in her abdomen. A blonde lady walked over and knelt beside her. “Don’t mind Levi, he’s a jerk sometimes. Here, let me help you.” Raven followed her back over to where the belt system she was supposed to be wearing rested on the floor, listening carefully while she instructed her on how to put the peices together, and then on. The belts around the legs first, then chest and arms, then the waist, then connect it in the middle…it was so much easier, having it explained and actually shown at the same time. Raven smiled. “Thank you, miss…?”
“Aarie.” The girl walked away without another word, trailing out the door. Raven looked down at her uniform, and realized something didn’t look right. Finally, it occured to her she was supposed to wear boots, not the dressy shoes she’d put on. And so, she rushed back to her chest, pulling the shoes off and finding the black boots that she was supposed to wear, hooking them up to that same network of belts, pulling on her vest, and marching out the door. She went to the mess hall and walked out with just a small pint of juice, walking to a barren scrape of fenced-in land. That was where a balding man who was clearly in his mid- to late-forties stood stiffly, scowling, a perfect set of crows’ feet that ran from his eyes finishing the rugged, weathered and worn look of his face. She saw that the black-haired man called Vlad from earlier was already there, so she stopped front and center, faced the man elder man who was clearly meant to be their trainer, and snapped to attention position: back straight, shoulders back, head up, eyes forward, first position parrallel, with the left fist over her heart and the right fist behind her back…or, was it the right fist over her heart and her left fist behind her back? Raven couldn’t remember.•
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•.Raven woke up bright and early for the first day of training. Her opaque chocolatey eyes snapped open and she sat straight up in bed, staring ahead of herself and breathing a sigh, her version of the wake up yawning-stretch. She glanced around herself to see most of the others were still asleep. The first rays of the sun streamed in through slatted windows as she swung her legs over the side of her bottom bed of bunk 7, in Log Cabin 3. It was a crowded space with bunk beds on the lower floor and sleeping mats on the upper one. For herself and each of the sleeping forms around her, a chest was located nearby that contained all of each trainee’s gear and belongings. Somewhere on or near each chest was a lamp, the last of which had been blown out at around ten o’clock the night before when the anxious teens finally decided to lay down and pretend to be sleeping.
The young girl knelt in front of hers and opened the lid, reaching inside for a solid white collared shirt and fitted slacks, brown apron and shoes, white socks, brown network of leather belts that were supposed to somehow go around her entire body, the brown vest with the insignia of the Training Corp on it, her face paint mixture and bead set, and a mirror. Standing up, she paused to see the boy in the bunk next to her, snoozing soundly. He had the look of a ruffian and she could tell he was a shorty, even though he was laying down and curled up. His hair was black, and drool dribbled from his slightly gaping mouth. She first realized that she couldn’t remember what he’d said his name was, if he’d said it at all…then secondly realized that standing around watching people sleep wasn’t socially acceptable, co-ed bunkers or not.
With that last thought, she hustled off towards a door leading to the ladies’ changing/shower room, slipping off her wolf-hide shift that she’d gone to sleep in and putting down her fresh change of clothes in a cubby by the door with her name on it. She walked to the far side of the room, turned on one of the shower heads, and rinsed herself off, again running her fingers through her now-wet hair as she counted to a hundred and twenty, then applied shampoo, counted, rinsed, conditioner, counted, rinsed…it seemed like a long time had passed before she switched the nozzle off, even though it hadn’t really been long at all. Then she walked over and grabbed a towel, wrapping one around her waist and using the other to dry her hair before she twisted it into a knot and tied it at the back of her head with her poppy. After that, she sat criss-crossed on the floor with her mirror and opened her face paint and bead set. She wasn’t feeling calm enough to do the beads, but she did apply face-paint; using the tips of her fingers, she drew a crimson triangle on her forehead, dragged the tip down to the point of her nose, then brought her fingers back up to the bridge of said nose, closing her eyes and painting the lids with the same tone.
She then washed her fingertips off in the sink, being sure it didn’t stain before she got dressed in her uniform. It took her only three minutes to figure out the pants, shirt, socks, and shoes (though she wasn’t sure how to tie them), but the belt trappings were simply beyond her; she spent half an hour trying to figure it out. By then, exhausted-looking ladies were filtering into the room and beginning to start showering. In order to avoid getting soaked by the misty spray, Raven packed up her beads, paint, and mirror, grabbed her vest, and hobbled out into the bunk area, deciding to go struggle with the system of belts from the safety of an open area, where hopefully someone would help her. It was going to be time for breakfast soon.•
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Quote or Catch Phrase: “”
Name: Raven Blackfeather
Family’s Country of Origin: America
Age: 13
Race: Human
Height: 5’4
Weight: 113 lbs
Gender: Female
Affiliation: Trainee Corp
Ranking: Trainee
Likes: Moon-gazing, nature walks, cooking, animals
Dislikes: The smell of things burning, wasting resources, “Wall-huggers”,
Hobbies: Cooking up random treats, reading, writing, tending her garden, studying/making maps
Personality:
Raven is a “layered” kind of person. On the outside, she’s very outgoing, cheerful and easily-amused. She catches on the randomest things and has a keen attention to detail. She’s also prone to “blonde moments” and a bit clumsy, as well as a joker/prankster. In conversations, she grins constantly, never missing a beat even in the awkwardest moments. She’s more than willing to poke fun at herself and either highlight one of her shortcomings or do something embarrassing right in front of God and everyone if that’s what it takes to earn a laugh. When she’s on her own, she likes to climb up to high places and watch people and animals as they go about their day.
Internally, she is somewhat different; she analyzes the connections she sees between people, the way they look at each other, their body language, the tone of their voice. Beneath her chipper outward appearance, she is a meticulously calculating kind of person who considers her every word and action carefully, trying to determine whether or not people are trustworthy, dependable, etc. Her sense of self-preservation is first and foremost, though she is still a considerate and caring person who will go out of her way to help people whenever possible.
Appearance – In Uniform: WORK IN PROGRESS
Appearance – Civilian Outfit: WORK IN PROGRESS
History : Raven’s past is vastly unknown; she lived in a hut in the forest with her grandmother and a pet wolf, learning how to track and hunt, gather herbs, find or build shelter, tend to wounds, etc. Every so often, she would sneak out of the woods and off into town, which was a bit of a sight. She had her face painted with sap from mashed berries, her hair was long and had flowers, twigs, and feathers intricately braided into it. Her clothing and footwear were made of tanned animal hide. Conspicuous. She always heard a man talking about all these theories he had about the world, and he was constantly showing off inventions. She thought he was an interesting, smart person, and would often follow him.
One late afternoon, she realized she wasn’t the only one following him; two soldiers with the emblem of the Police Brigade on their uniforms were nonchalantly striding a few paces behind him as he went out to the dock, disappearing behind the wharf. They followed, and she climbed up on top of the building, peering over the top in time to see the three men struggling. As she looked on in horror, the two men subdued the object of her curiosity, bound him tightly with rope, and tossed him into the water. She ducked down immediately and began shimmying down her side of the roof, jumping down and running away in terror.
That man hadn’t been robbed or anything; it was just because he was smart. City people don’t like smart. Raven returned to the woods, and didn’t come out until she was thirteen, after the winter that her grandmother died of pneumonia. She kept in mind that she would have to appear duller than the average intelligence-level of those around her, deciding to enter the military in hopes of removing all the corruption and the strange, cold hate towards ideas. It wasn’t until after she bedded down in the trainee barracks for that first night that she realized the only way for her to get where the corruption was at its worst was by showing how smart and talented she happened to be.
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•.The rhythmic click of heels against linoleum flooring echoed down the hall as a woman with a curly fall of hip-length blue hair clipped back from her face with a storm cloud barrette made her way between classes. Her opaque purple eyes were sharp, and surrounded with purple eye shadow that made her somewhat resemble a raccoon. She had cinnamon-toned skin flecked with chocolate and wore a black hoodie, partially unzipped to reveal the beginnings of a chest wrapped tightly with bandages, under which disappeared hints of jagged tattoos. She had on a dark brown skirt that reached her knees, white thigh-high socks, and black shoes. Clutched in her left hand was a clipboard, and a mechanical pencil was tucked behind her right ear.
She overheard a few girls giggling about some foolish-looking new kid who closed herself into the janitor’s closet and sighed, raising her clipboard and flipping to the map of the school before she turned down a corridor, heading for where the girl was probably mortified and still hiding out. The blue-haired lady couldn’t help but wonder, with a chuckle, if the student would ever even return to the DWMA after that awful first impression. Young teens, especially females, tend to overreact…this one was probably already chanting about how her life was over. Ick. She reached the door that was very clearly labeled JANITOR’S CLOSET and pulled it open with only a two-second glance to the person inside. “Your name?” Just for the moment, she felt like being nice, scribbling off a note about how her tardy was to be excused for helping carry a few books and bringing a mop from the janitor’s closet. At the bottom was a side note instructing the teacher to be sure to read it out loud. She handed it off to the girl and moved on down the hall.
After that, she noticed a girl crouched on the floor outside of a classroom and sighed, resting a hand on her hip as she slowed to a stop. ‘What is it with these teenage girls today…?’ For a few minutes, the lady (a recently-hired hall monitor by the name of Medina Tsuchibelle) stood watching silently. The girl she was looking at was absolutely filthy; long disheveled hair matted-up with dirt, tattered clothes, and worn boots. Medina was immediately curious about the girl, who just kept huddling on the floor, shuddering and muttering incoherently. After a moment, the hall monitor began to wonder if the girl even knew that was what she was doing, or even if she was aware she was being watched.
Miss Tsuchibelle shifted her weight, lifted her clipboard, raised a fist over her mouth, and cleared her throat loudly. The I-want-your-attention-but-don’t-want-to-say-anything noise. Only as an afterthought did it occur to her that she may very well startle the girl. She raised her chin a little and stared down her nose at the raven-haired young lady, offering a somewhat cheeky half-smirk. “Young Miss, is there a problem?” She knew the girl was probably in trouble, or avoiding an unruly classmate, but Medina simply couldn’t force herself to lighten her tone. The note was far enough against her usual nature as is.•
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Name: Medina Tsuchibelle
Age: Thirty-Seven
Gender: Female
Species: Witch
Power: Minor Weather Manipulation
History:
Medina originally lived by the seaside with a small coven that preyed upon tourists and a nearby town that depended on its trading ports to support itself. Either people passing through or living there would pay some form of tribute to them (usually consisting of food, clothing, live animals, etc) or they would all gather at the shore and cause some form of disaster. Hurricanes or tropical storms, waterspouts, wildfires…
Medina never participated in these rituals herself, but…at the same time, she never tried to stop them, either. Instead, during one of these rages the witches flew into, she decided to sneak out under cover of storm and go wandering down the road. For a while she was okay, until she realized had reached the end of what she was familiar with in her wandering. She couldn’t see or hear or smell saltwater anymore. The odors of fish and shouts of fishermen didn’t fill her ears when she turned her head to the East. There were no gulls.
People passed, but no one really seemed to pay the wandering girl any mind. As she began to panic, she hid her wavelength with a spell the way she’d been taught a year or so back, when a person came from town expressing his deepest respect for their power and warning them that the Mayor had put in a request for a Meister to come and exterminate the group. Needless to say, neither she nor any of her sisters were actually discovered, even when the team appeared at their front door. They lived in what had been an old, abandoned fortress, and so they simply left out the back gate and stayed away for several weeks.
Medina found that the spell was once again going to come in handy, both to prevent herself from being tracked and to keep anyone who can see wavelengths from realizing hers was that of a witch’s. Eventually, a hand still did land on her shoulder, a few days later one night while she was crouched on a dark street, cold, hungry, and thirsty. When she looked up, she found herself looking up into the eyes of that very same Meister team that had come for her sisters before. Only, there was no malice or look of recognition in either face.
They brought her to their home a few weeks later, adopting her and simply assuming she was a mute because she never said a word to any of them. The truth was, Medina was afraid they would recognize her voice from somewhere back East. She grew up with a sister named Isalina, who over the years grew close to her Weapon, Clarke. Medina didn’t go to the DWMA, nor did she associate with those who did; her and her sister never became close over the years that followed.
Now she is the aunt of a young girl named Steele, the child of Isalina and Clarke. Medina has developed an interest in the child, who was the product of Isalina and Clarke’s relationship. Steele was attending the DWMA as a weapon, though she had no idea what kind. She still wasn’t even sure she really cared, but decided to apply for a job as a teacher’s aide, just so she could actually see what it is they do in this Academy.
(And just by the way, don’t worry, she’s not intended to be some kinda Medusa spinoff. I wasn’t sure how to write the history for her so it’s kinda awkward.)