Story

The Eclipse hadn't happened in the last 150 years. There had been a couple close calls, but never a full one. And then..... Weird things started happening. A simultaneous wave of bad luck that would hit entire villages. Nothing big, like ruination of crops, but every second person had lost an important heirloom, or a favorite trinket.
When It actually occurred, all the leaders’ minds clicked on. They knew something needed to be done, so they stopped butting heads over treaties and began putting forth money to collect all the mercenaries, artisans, swindlers, and wise men possible in an effort to counteract the peril that was surely coming.
Among these men, a pair existed. Perhaps not well known, but that was simply a matter of dates. Theirs had not arrived yet.

Characters

Name: Cheyenne Taaevemeotse
Age: 17
Height/Weight: 139.7 cm/52.6 kg (5'5"/116 lb.)
Occupation: ???
Special Skills: Trained Thief & Mechanic
Description: Snow white hair and blue, lifeless eyes. He's been a prisoner of war since the age of 4, when Damian conquered his village and captured any survivors. His parents were killed. In the prison camps, which they traveled to and from bimonthly, he learned many thievery and mechanic skills. His fingers are long and skinny and he's skilled with fighting with dual knives or short swords. He prefers to avoid direct conflict, but he won't hesitate to kill somebody in his way if he knows they won't compromise. Cold and calculating, he grew up quickly in order to survive in the harsh prisons. When Ditella finally released the prisoners, he was drafted into the military (Age 15) because there was no record of his existence. He wears a dinged white cotton shirt and trousers, with no shoes, but he wears bandages over his feet. He's mainly used in spying, but he's occasionally placed on the battlefield if demand is desperate, or he can be placed as an engineer to repair the siege weaponry. He carries two flintlock pistols for use in ranged combat, and hides two kodachi sized blades in his sleeves. He's saving up to buy an airship so he can finally be free.

Name: Taitava Vos
Age: 23
Height/Weight: 191 cm/68.6 kg
Occupation: ~none~
Special Skills: CQC, Ranged Combat, Intuition
Description: Short, raven hair, blue eyes, and rectangular glasses. Vos spent his early life at odds with the neighboring boys, making him aloof and brusque. Vos was an unhealthy child, forcing him to spend long hours indoors. An uncle had been working in Damian's army when he was wounded, and during his down time he began teaching Vos how to fight. As Vos got a more active body, his health benefited, and he was able to play with the other boys. This changed abruptly when Damian was defeated and troops began marching through his village. His father fought off two looters and was killed. Bounced about between homes, Vos began slowly losing any semblance of connection to other people, and consequently grew bored with life. Wears a full suit with a fedora, reinforced for greater durability. Carries a cane sword and a single revolver with extra ammunition. Intends to find a way to alleviate his boredom.

The busy streets of the capital, Minroeg, bustled under his disaffected gaze. They would need to set out soon for the barracks. That was where the information and retaining fee was being handed out. He looked back at the little thief he had caught, eating at the room service as if it were the last food to be had.
Vos leaned over and speared a crusty roll, making a lazy sign towards the door and then pointing at his wrist. He wondered what this job would entail, but he knew it would be gargantuan if it required so many bodies. Something this big might be exactly what he needed.

He had dull blue eyes and medium length white hair that covered most of his face. He stared at the succulent food ravenously, trying to eat it with his eyes. He looked up at his captor for a second and cleared his throat. They had not spoken a word since the captor brutally beat him with the stun baton and dragged him halfway through town without a care for the boy's dignity. "So, uh, you do this for a living? Torture your prisoners?" he said sarcastically while nibbling on one of the crusty rolls from the other man's plate.

OOC: This naruto or somthing else? If you wana delete this do so but pm me. Thanks.

"Something like that." He maneuvered around and freed the boy. "Don't run. Eat quickly, we're leaving soon. I can use you." Vos motioned towards a canvas bag on his bed. "I put your things in there."
Stretching from his captive, Vos began collecting his own gear. He would be leaving directly from the barracks. He slid his gun out of the top drawer and into his coat and picked up his cane. Turning a bit, he examined his former captive out of his peripheral vision, waiting for him to finish.

The kid shoved the entire plate of food in his mouth and chewed quickly, swallowing. He eyed the other man strangely. "To whom do I owe this . . . whatever-it-is?" he asked while he put his flintlocks in their holsters and short swords under his shirt. "It was pleasant, but I really don't feel like working with you. So, good-bye."

"Not up for discussion. I have a very eager constable friend. He should be arriving presently. So, there are three choices. Come with me, get cozy in prison, or be dead. My way, at least you get to keep doing what you are skilled at, and probably make out ahead for yourself."
Unsure of how the boy would respond, Vos unbuttoned his jacket and switched his cane to a low grip in his left hand. "Only opportunity."

"So that's a raincheck on the name, then?" the boy said, unaffected by the threats. He picked up a trinket nearby and stared at the man from the corner of his eyes. "I really hate to go, but I must. So you should learn something for next time we meet . . ." he said contemptuously, and kicked Vos in the groin. He leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Thieves fight dirty. So long." and he walked into the busy street, whistling.

Vos let out a sigh and straightened up wearily. Thieves weren't the only ones to fight dirty, but only idiots would have said something so suggestive before attacking. A slight twist of the wrist had placed the cane in front of the foot, reducing the impact to nothing. Vos thought momentarily about whether the boy was worth following through with. The ringing of the clock tower forestalled this, and Vos realized he was going to be late to the enlistment.
He set off at a brisk pace for the near by barracks, a slight headache forming from the dazzling sunlight.

The boy yawned as he sat behind the desk, signing up spunky teens for the military. "The government appreciates your sacrifice . . ." he said, dully and with a drawl. It wasn't tedious or hard work. It was just long and boring. "I can't believe I get stuck on the s*** shift just because I was a few minutes late. That asshole . . . I'm going to murder him when I see him."

Vos reached the barracks in short order, taking in the sight of the vast yard. A group of young people were signing up off to the side, but Vos knew he could skip that and at least get a bit more information by dropping his uncle's name.
Taking the steps three at a time, he went into the barracks and walked purposefully to the sergeant manning the desk. The commander could not see him immediately, but Vos was welcomed into the mess to be introduced to some of the officers that had served with his uncle.

Cheyenne pushed on the other man's shoulder, "Hey, I'm gonna go take a break real quick. I'll be back in a few, take over for me, will ya? Thanks," and he got up and went into the barracks. There were people everywhere. Most of them were dressed in their military uniform, except for one . . . he looked familiar. He was familiar. Cheyenne did a triple take and walked over to him. "YOU," he said indignantly, "what the hell are you doing here, asshole?"

Vos looked around as he heard the shout. Before the boy got any closer, Vos brought his heel directly into the boy's solar plexus. Pulling out his revolver and pointing it at the boy, he said, "More effective without the signal phrase."
Realizing that the rest of the mess had grown iffy watching the scene, Vos smiled apologetically and said, "Inside thing." Trying to sell it with a laugh, he spun the gun and put it away. He looked down at the winded youth, then back at the sergeant. He asked, "Do you happen to know when the commander would see me?"

The boy sighed and rubbed his abdomen. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked again. "Don't ignore me."

"What business is it of yours, churl? You made your decision, and as I recall, you chose very poorly."