Hello everyone, Summer Rose here. Former leader of team STRQ and baker of cookies. If you’re interested in a Summer Rose, I’m your gal! I’m pretty, adventurous and kicker of Grimm butt!
She chuckled to herself as she heard his proposal. Dying was not on the top of this list for things to do, but she was never one to say she would hate to die. She was not suicidal, but her self-preservation left her long ago. Without anyone to be around, she had just lost a reason to come back from a fight. People with a cause will fall for anything as they say.
She stretched her arms over her head, a mobility check to make sure nothing was wrong. The short diagnostic revealed nothing, so she lowered her arms. She then noticed the students offer with his weapon in an odd manner. She then realized it was an offer for her to step on, which immediately amused her. She put one booted foot on it, testing the sturdiness, before climbing onto it. Unfortunately, this meant that the weight of her and her weapon came down on it, meaning Bjorn would need to hold on tight.
Bjorn tightened his grip on the handle of his axe as the unexpectedly heavy weight that her weapon added on the blade. He slightly raised his brows in surprise. Orma did not look that heavy, How was she even able to casually carry her weapon with such ease. Was it a part of her semblance.
The young man was indeed granted with a strength that was overthrowing that of a regular human, but his standard force perhaps wasn’t going to be enough.
“You should consider losing some pounds, If you may pardon the rudeness of my formulation.”
The Grimm was still oscillating but clearly gaining consciousness at an alarming rate.
A finger reached for the trigger, and had his body take a shape in favor of the swing movement he had in mind.
That might work, adding the momentum of his own strength and the one caused by shooting from the gun. Althought, He still felt unsure of it working, he refused to admit that his last minute thought plan was going to be an insult to his fighting strategy. Even if that meant relying on desperate means.
“An advice, if I happen to appear more hostile after this, you might consider keeping your distance.”
The idea was to draw additional strength from his berserker state, all he had to do was to control the drain of thoughts and experiences at the moment that were putting him out of himself. Just thinking about performing such a complicated mental task while also forcing his arms not to yield was already making the blood vessels located along his throat and temples pound.
The fact that he had to follow a suspicious girl to the outskirts of the city to make sure she had no ill intentions towards anyone, the fact that the matters could have been solved easily if it hadn’t been for a reckless homeless person and Orma overreacting, the fact that he had to dispose of disgusting beasts when he exceptionally headed outside for a specific goal.
All these upsetting details, going against his plans for the day, and the beings whether they be humans or Grimm not seeming to be cooperative in such a delicate situation.
He also remembered the morning, at breakfast in the school cafeteria. Assisting the heart stabbing spectacle of the last bowl of forest fruit salad landing on another student’s trail. That was it.
His eyes opened rapidly, revealing shrinking yellow animalistic yellow orbs. Groaning loudly as he swung his axe at first before helping the current momentum by pulling the trigger of his canon. All these efforts to launch the living reptilian projectile at the Grimm.
He darted around Orma, who still held the table over her head, and ran to the man and sat in his chair after nearly tripping as he sprinted.
“OH good, you gave him a seat! Now that the little mob goon is comfy he will tell all his secrets!” Her sarcasm could have been picked up on radars around the precinct. She points the table at the suspect, then puts it down and sits on it and stares at the suspect, angry her interrogation was interrupted.
“Let’s see now! Where is the file~” He bent down to pick up the binder that was on the ground, and probably fell from the table when Orma decided to intimidate the suspect.
“Now. Mr. -…” A beep sound resonated as unecessary blurry censorship hid Aramis’ lips. “You are accused of… shoplifting?…”
“BULLSHIT! He has connections I bet!” Orma, the file clearly states he was caught stealing chopstick. The kid is 17. Orma please. Please stahp.
Orma eyed the kid ferociously, looking like she might leap at him at any moment. She put on her shades and and chewed a piece of gum, not taking her eyes off the smaller human.
Aramis raised his hand, the back of which facing Orma. As a demand of permission to talk.
The young lad looked relieved for a moment. He had the feeling that the slighlty older other and prettier lad was empathic towards his current situation.
“This is a good hypothesis Orma! We’ll have to take that into account!” He said with a “^v^” face with the most genuine tone of praise.
“H-hey wait connections.... I promise not to do it again...just let me out...” Or at least let REAL officers take care of that case!
He darted around Orma, who still held the table over her head, and ran to the man and sat in his chair after nearly tripping as he sprinted.
“OH good, you gave him a seat! Now that the little mob goon is comfy he will tell all his secrets!” Her sarcasm could have been picked up on radars around the precinct. She points the table at the suspect, then puts it down and sits on it and stares at the suspect, angry her interrogation was interrupted.
“Let’s see now! Where is the file~” He bent down to pick up the binder that was on the ground, and probably fell from the table when Orma decided to intimidate the suspect.
“Now. Mr. -...” A beep sound resonated as unecessary blurry censorship hid Aramis’ lips. “You are accused of... shoplifting?...”
Making his way to the interrogation room, as strands of his perfectly L’oréaled hair, tied in a casual yet practical ponytail, was gracefully slamming back and forth against the nap of his neck.
Sending “Chu’s~” from right to left, so the female officers’ collapsed bodies would be easier to pass by without having to waste any more time. His partner for the case, Orma, was probably already waiting for him in front of the room.
The door opened to her interrogation room, to reveal Orma in her blue police uniform with the interrogation in her hands about to take a swing at the suspect. She turned and looked at Aramis, now a bit irritated that someone had interrupted her. The suspect, however, was in tears and scrambled to the corner of the room to put distance between themselves and Orma.
“JEEEZ, they were about to talk! Go back out pretty boi so I can get work done!”
“Heeeh! What are you saying Orma! We’re partners remember! I wont get paid if I don’t at least sit with you in the room” His attention was turned towards to the traumatized suspect, trembling and pushing himself against the wall, as if going through all the terrible things Orma did to him, made him want to cross the wall like a ghost.
“Don’t you think the suspect would be more at ease if he could sit on the chair! Sir!” He waved at him gleefully “Come take a seat Please!”
Making his way to the interrogation room, as strands of his perfectly L’oréaled hair, tied in a casual yet practical ponytail, was gracefully slamming back and forth against the nap of his neck.
Sending “Chu’s~” from right to left, so the female officers’ collapsed bodies would be easier to pass by without having to waste any more time. His partner for the case, Orma, was probably already waiting for him in front of the room.
well it took forever, mostly due to Procrastinating. But here is the written description of Aramis
Aramis Bellad’or
Age : 18
Height : 182 cm
Hair : Blonde
Eyes : Brown
History :
-Born and grew up in a family including his two parents, and two older brothers : Athos and Porthos.
-His parents let him know that he was free to choose what to do in life, he followed his two older brothers’ foot steps with the intention of defending his family and the people.
-The oldest : Athos, is an active Huntsman who graduated from Haven Academy, where Aramis is being formed. He has a daughter: Aramis’ niece, whom he’s really fond of.
-The second oldest : Porthos, After a couple years in service he decided to drop his huntsman career because he didn’t like it. He may have decided to become a huntsman at first to rival Athos. But is now simply mooching off his parents and living in the familial house. He is lazy and lets his younger brother : Aramis take care of him. Their parents don’t seem to mind his presence and find it normal.
-Before leaving the household for Haven, Aramis would take care of Porthos : clean his room, cook for him on occasions like the reliable little brother he is.
Personality :
-Gentlemanly, and occasionally flirtatious.
-Respectful of elders.
-Considered a caring upperclassman by the younger ones. And an overly affectionate mess by his team.
-he could be seen as effeminate, given how he is really self conscious about his appearance and especially his hair. That he takes time to style on occasions.
-As a team leader, he has great leading skills. But he might feel guilty if anything were to happen to one of his friends even if he couldn’t help it.
- Gets along surprisingly well with Bjorn despites their opposing personalities. He is the one who can handle his states of Berserker the best.
-clingy
-Loves to be spoiled although he’ll never admit it.
-He can become petty if people get on his nerves.
Semblance :
Field force barriers.
-He can generate barriers that can take almost any shape and model them according to circumstances. To protect himself or his friends.
The intensity of his semblance changes according to :
Distance : the resistance of the barrier will change in function of the distance.
He may use the barriers to protect himself directly it will then be at maximum resistance. Or his friends if they happen to be too far away from him. For this last one, The barrier’s endurance will be weaker the further the person or object to protect are far.
Weapon :
-Félice en Pointe
- Rapier sword with the ability to use dust.
-He may use some of the dust, like fire, ice and ground with his semblance : barriers or domes of ice, fire or rocks…etc
(I WILL DRAW IT)
Trivia :
- Name, along as his brothers’ are the names of the three musketeers from the well-known Alexandre Dumas’ oeuvre : D’artagnan and the three musketeers.
-They have been named according to their age succession in the book.
-He dislikes rain and humidity in general.
-his name Bellad’or is a mix I made, with bella : beauty and d’or : from gold
« Just don’t force yourself, and most importantly don’t get yourself killed. » Only one monster left, this was going to a piece of cake. A pseudo-feeling of satisfaction of being able to keep his temper in check without his team’s support for once perhaps. But still not enough to let his guard down.
From the encounter with the homeless person and the Grimm, he ignored if the joy accompagnying her bursts of violence were genuine. In fact he preferred not to think too much about it. As long as he’d get rid of the annoyance that the Grimm represented and take the “spy” to eat as a mean of bribing her into explaining her presence on the school grounds, He’d call it a day.
Orma looked agitated even when she had received so much damage. Why wasn’t she using her aura more wisely? He was ticked off by that detail. He deduced for his personal belief that her violence spree was a bit similar to his own Berserk. And that it might be helpful for her to calm down by slaughtering what seemed to be the last of the Grimm creatures.
“Over here.” He leaned down his axe, the blade forming an oblique angle with the ground. Low enough for her to step on it so he’d launch her towards the beast. Given his strength and how light she might be, He focused his last bits of clear thoughts on finding the perfect swing for the momentum.
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