Now, on the one hand I was voulentold into the Legion of the Damned for a ten year period of service. I was to fight the unending tides of demons as part of the forces of Hell, where we would be thrown into a meat grinder worse than an annual street fair. Where we would drop like nameless mooks in some massive action movie, as the guns roared and the artillery proceeded to chew and take as they pleased among the poor fuckers on the ground. But what was there to do, but to feel the iron in my grip and pull that trigger as the music played?

Okay, so that was probably being a touch melodramatic. Truth was, in the five man squad, I was the man out. Literally given how the others were women, including the commander. A no fratinization rule meant I had to be on my best behavior... and endure a whole lot of remarks on how I was probably gay for not responding to their 'subtle' invitations. Because ladies, you might be pretty, but not worth getting slammed down to Hell. I just needed to wait, and then I would be able to live the dream.

Which is why I made sure that the shots counted, that the birds guns, wrapped up in the weight of mythos and will, bounced and slammed through the bodies of horrors, the bullets striking with more mass and power than strictly speaking, should be the case. But what was rational reality in comparison to letting fury roar, for the wrath of Law, of Hell, to reach out to smite the devourers of worlds? As far as work contracts went, it was not half bad, and at least there was furious purpose to it as we danced a lethal step above the skies of a dying world.

Alice, Commander

Truth be told, their resident C-reep was not quite as bad as he could have been, even if she would rather have had another woman on the team instead of a man. Yes, he was useful on occasion, but he was also lost in his own little world instead of paying more attention to them. The Canadian simply went along with things much of the time, watching from a distance and content to barely speak at all. Hell, one of the only times he had been talkative was to get his contract.

Which was supposed to be one of the ones that took a while to build up rather than offering great amounts of power right away. Except if course, unless you knew it well enough to ask questions and game the system to a degree. Which of course the (formerly) unattractive fat incel knew how to do, as he offered to take that contract. She had nearly wanted to say no, but it had been presented as an obvious skill trap and she had been hoping for a female replacement. Only, as said, the creep gamed the system and survived.

Yes, it was usually small things, little things, as he did not go for something flashy and obvious. The ships guns flew further and harder, with some other effects on occasion... not to speak of the fact that the ammunition never ran out and that the bullets had a tendency to plow through demons and adjust their angles in the air. There were no elemental blasts, nothing that could not be explained away as a fancy gun or some upgrades to the gear.

But the nail in the coffin? The insane outfit (a trench coat, cowboy hat and boots) and banjo along with those glasses! He looked like an overweight cowboy with pretentions of cool and grandeur. And of course there were enchantments in them, as the fucker kept lying about were he was getting them. Making them? Please, she may not have known much about D&D, but she knew that you needed both high quality items and a lot more resources than they had access to! That and while he had some magic tricks, he wasn't one of those artificer types, even if he used some of the skill training to be a backup mechanic. So, he was lying and not sharing.

Which is why on their latest mission out, she had him perform a last stand while they flew off. So sad leaving him behind, but given the opposition, well, they were fairly sure he was dead. And even if the others had been uneasy at first, they had come around to the correct way of thinking on the flight back.

Only, as they looked at the scoreboard three days later? Their kill counter was still rising. So, apperantly he was not dead yet, which was inconsiderate of him, as that meant that there would now be questions being asked, at least partially around why he wasn't showing up for classes and normal deployments. Things that would have been neatly sidestepped if he simply died when he was supposed to.

At least there was a lull in the kill count, maybe he was taken down and her problems were solved?

The Canadian

I looked over the enclave of survivors, hiding from the demons that had invaded and wrecked havoc in their world. They asked if I was an angel or devil. I was but a man with blade and gun, with fury in my heart and a mission bound to my soul.

I have them an offer, as I looked down from atop the carcass of some abyssal beast without name. It was a simple offer as such things go, but while I was not the most social or empathetic of souls, these men and women were defending their homes, the abyss surging to claim them body and soul. Who was I not to lend a hand, to help them to protect themselves? And so I shared with them the craft of flesh and the song of will, blade and bullet, along with what little war lore I knew. It was not much, but every little bit helps on this lonely road back to the base.

General Skullcrusher

She sighed and blinked. On the one hand, they knew exactly where the gunner for Team Alice was. They did have trackers in all members of the legion after all. At the same time, other than the penalties for failing his classes, he was not going to be punished for desertion or going AWOL. After all, he had performed a last stand as his commander left him to die, as ordered.

And after surviving he was apperantly doing his best to make it back to base. He was even managing to use his radio to occasionally report in and took out targets of oppertunity along the way, as the power supply allowed.

But.. she rubbed her temples. Yeah, she forgot he had a gestalt Krekeri build. One report of finding survivors and helping establish an insurgency (as he was deep in demon territory), and now two months later there were knock off asartes running around.

His team really needed to pick him up.