"Tch, how can you ask if I lit up if you couldn't even light up a pair of viruses!" Simon asked with a laugh as he put away the match he had taken out. Militiaman made a confused noise before turning around just in time to watch a pair f boomerangs come flying at him, though not his own. With swift dodges, he moved from one side to the other, simply swaying in place to avoid the simple attacks as he scoffed in simulation of his op.

"Gh, I forgot that the boomers can't be hurt without first making their attacks," He said as he stood back up. He drew up his gun and cocked the barrel again, "It has been too long if I'm just running headlong into viruses before thinking my actions through." A booming laugh echoed through the battlefield as Smions window reappeared behind Militiaman, stealth no longer a concern.

"Hahaha, oh soldier, you seem to remember exactly half your training! Well, if you're going to make mistakes as egregious as this, you chose the right enemies to learn on!" Simon crossed his free arm with the one still holding the PET to his face as he spoke, "Now, are you going to whine to me about not being assisted again if I tell you to lie in the bed you've made for yourself?" Militiaman looked back at him a brief moment, raising his busterarm with the shimmering whispy blade still extended from the base as a bayonette,

"No complaints here, sir," He turned to the viruses after speaking, the pair still laughing at him in his ameture mistake. That would be their downfall, huberus in the face of accident is misplaced indeed. He pulled his arm across him as he pushed off the balls of his feet into another rush. Bearing down on their taunting faces, he couldn't help but feel a familiar sensaion. For a moment his mind left the battlefield, for an hour he was in thought. He could recall similar excercises in training, learning to fight all different forms of enemies from the very fast to the very strong. He remembered being watched, he remembered putting on a show...but were these real memories? They almost seemed like dreams...

He came out of this brief thought face to mouth of the viruses, contracting his body like a wild animal ready to pounce and then diving through them with a wide arc of his blade. The resultant blast of air blew the smoke and dust from his previous assault back into play, vertiably cleaning the field as he stopped moving again, sliding slightly on the chrome surface before diving backwards to be free of the bugs and survey his attacks result.

"Nothing else this time soldier? You blow out your overkill circuit with that last assault?" Simon jeered at him, chuckling to himself as Militiaman kept a silent eye on the battlefield, not willing to take any unnecessary risks this time.

ACTIONS

1. Airsword 100 , Boomer A/B

2-6. Dodge

<(Bump)>

Militiaman walked on, thinking to himself as he kept walking down the paths. He could not wrap his mind around why he would go to the Dentech building, if they had anything to do with the program...

But his thoughts were interrupted, a crackle of energy and power. Viruses were tearing the net world up before him, rending the very datastreams that struck his fancy but moments ago.

"Sir, there's a small virus outbreak ahead of us, little more than a small disruption in the stream, but it would be rather pointless to leave them as they were," Militiaman called up to Simon, who smiled and reached into the folder his son had given him.

"This actually presents an excellent opportunity. As we've been stripped of our proper folder, a test of the one my son left me would be perfect for us," Simon rifles through his book and pulls out a group of chips, simply slotting each one into the PET once after another. Militiaman accepted the data, installing it into his body and prepping the buster. With a blast of data, his hand modified into what he was expecting to be a large buster, but rather forming an odd green and red energy aura around his wrists.

"Wait, sir, what are these? Do we have no cannons? No ranged weaponry...are these...boomerangs? And punches? Swords? Sir, this isn't right..." Militiaman quickly ran behind a tower, feet clanging on the metal surface. Pressing his hand to his chest symbol to speak on private lines with Simon,

"Simon, what should I do, I have no parameters for chips such as these, do you really expect me to work with these? Simon?" Militiaman heard nothing for a moment, but the link kicked in and he could hear Simon's voice, rich with dissent.

"Soldier, what has happened to you? You are put out of your parameters for a single battle, and you have such qualms? This is the soldier I've spent all these years with? You've been given a new, unfortunate hand but so help me if you won't play it!" Simon's voice resonated in Militiaman, and for a moment he forgot the lack of direction, and stared down at his glowing palms.

"You're right sir, I..I have no idea whats going through my head...ever since my encounter with Gungnir...I'm not thinking clearly," His fists gripped together in resolute determination as he looked to the side of the data tower that bore the viruses. "Then we enter the battlefield, combat instance set!"

"Make me light up, son," Simon said, a broad grin on the display screen as Militiaman dropped to an active stance and ran into the fray, two emerald hands drawn behind him with an afterimage from the light. As his footfalls rang out across the field drawing the attention of the viruses as he drew his hands up across his chest, the green auras fading and materializing two boomerangs in either hand. He shouted out and with a fling, released the two boomerangs at the cloud of viruses. The spinning disks flew out in wide arcs to the upper sides of the virus group as Militiaman kept running at the group.

The blades were met by another, a broad white blade spawning from the data on his arm. As the two boomerangs crash into the enemy groups like a pair of spinning sawblades as Militiaman drove through the line of viruses with the wide blade arcing powerfully through the air. With a powerful blast of air, the blade blew past the bugs, Militiaman dodging through any enemies in his path. The floor squealed as he braced himself to stop his momentum, turning around on the slick metallic floor as he raised his off hand with a powerful red aura glowing around the fingertips. His fingers came together as he faced the crowd of viruses, still recovering from his bull rush and with an affirming nod before snapping his fingers, heralding a pair of raucous explosions from firey fists flying forth from his fingertips. He lowered his hand, keeping his sense about him for the results of assault as he spoke slowly,

"That light you up sir?"

ACTIONS

1. Boomerang1, 60 wood EleballA/B, BoomerA

2. Boomerang1, 60 wood EleballA/B, BoomerB

3. Airsword, 80 BoomerA/B

4. Firehit1, 60 fire BoomerA

5. Firehit1, 60 fire BoomerB

6. Dodge

In a flurry of data, Militiaman materializes into the glistening scilab. Channels of data flash and spit around him, packets of data flying a million bytes per second.

"I have not been in such a mecca of data before, this may interrupt my combat abilities, Simon," Militiaman said as he materialized his magnum buster, finishing looking about the area before checking his cannons condition. "Everything checks out here sir, I'm ready to progress at your command," Militiaman said with a gruff tone, still expressing dissatisfaction at the situation. Simon simply chuckled and replied with a haughty,

"Do as you wish, lets see your capabilities and be sure you've not rusted from age," Militiaman's back tensed before he turned to the window displaying his netop's, arms spread in anger and spoke in slightly less than a shout,

"Sir! What are you doing, this is foolish! We left the service, we left the netpolice, we've left everything that might provide us even a modicum of answers, and for what? To hop on the most openly obvious server in broad daylight just to run around in circles on the net! Forgive my insubordination, but your son has left a frivolous mark on you!" Militiaman's tirade came to rest with him breathing a little heavy, but growling even more as Simon's response was nothing more than a hearty laugh.

"You're claiming I've changed soldier? That's a riot, you must have some new backsass executable I don't know about for I would have never expected such a tone from you not even a year ago..." Militiaman did not respond to this, but merely stared him down in silence, "Hmm...fine... You do have a goal, we need to step back a moment and relax. Soldier, we have no place losing our heads," At these words, Militiaman let his arms relax and he stood up straight, "But I think you can guess where you're going, head towards the Dentech building and be prepared for infiltration."

"Wah-we're going...there? But, why are we-" Militiaman stopped as Simon once again raised his hand,

"Soldier, you got your answer, now..." He tapped his stogie, "Give me. A reason. To light this." Militiaman gave a soft scoff,

"Yes sir..." Militiaman turned and walked into the net, heading towards the avenue of the Dentech building.

<(REQUESTING FIRST BATTLE)>

Mah B, missed that, everything in order now?

In the busy corner of the Scilabs plaza, a crowd of people stand at the bus stop, some chatting, others busily reading books and newspapers while actively ignoring the more noisy ones. The monotony of the people around the stop breaks briefly as the bus comes, and people back away from the ledge instinctively in spite of being a safe distance to start. As the lumbering bus rolls to a stop, the crowd parts to allow the exit of current passengers, but spread wider as a single man almost the width of the bus door manages to move through it with a sideways tilt. Simon steps out, a stark contrast from the bookish people around him in his gritty wifebeater and green cargo pants. He takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales softly before moving out of the small crowd and up the stairs to the main plaza. A crackle and fizzle in his earpiece precedes a deep voice drawing his attention.

"Simon, have we arrived? Is this Scilabs?" The voice was Militiaman, Simons trusted netnavi calling to him from his PET which was safely stored in his pocket at the moment. With a flick of his wrist he flips open his cargo pocket and pulls out the rather bulky PET, covered in military binary patterns.

"Yeah, we're here soldier, we've got a lot of work to do too, so lets find a public access point to make use of," Simon turned down his earpiece a bit to accommodate Militiamans voice and turned down the music he'd had playing in the background, "Here, this looks like it should be a good enough place, I'm getting a usable signal from here." Simon took a seat on a bench near a phone booth and pulled out the PET in full, extending it's screen and bringing up Militiaman to get a good look and operate it, "Now, if you're prepared, please make your way onto the labs net." Militiaman took a breath as his shoulders fell and he shook his head slightly.

"Simon, sir, I still don't fully understand what your aim is here...Where am I going, why are we back in scilabs of all things? Where exactly am I-" Simon raises his hand and pulls up a screen, displaying the data he'd received from his son and saying,

"That's funny, I don't see a 'backtalk' chip among this folder my son left me..." He went no farther than that, merely looking over from the folder to the expressionless face with a snarky smile crossing his stubbled chin. With another exhale, Militiaman turned to the side of the screen, looking away from Simon and getting ready to go.

"No sir...ready to operate," The disdain could be heard in his voice, laced over determined grit. Simon reached behind him, pulling up a thick brown cigar and placing it dutifully between his teeth, lips curled in a cocky smile.

"Hey", Militiaman turned only his head slightly to look at his op, "Give me a reason to light this," he said with a chuckle before Jacking in, and downloading his navi to the networld.

<(JACKING IN MILITIAMAN.EXE)>

Name: Militiaman.EXE
Gender: Male
Element: Normal
Subtype: Cursor

Appearance:

Militiaman, much like his operator, is an imposing and tall figure. His bodysuit is grey with red markings on it, covered by green armor often bearing gunmetal borders with machinegun-esque holes in them or golden metallic borders. On his back is a small navi op pack, with two small wings on the top and pillars extending from the bottom. He has a helmet that fades back into a serrated design, a black visor and gray facemask with additional red marks descending from where his eyes are. His face isn't able to express any features, being completely hidden from any emotion. His buster can materialize on either arm at once, even both should he need, and each one fires like a large magnum, the barrel of the gun pulling back over his arm to an extent.

Personality: Militiaman is much more open to people after his time under, and considerably more personable. However he's still dealing with this and for it is having a confusing and internal struggle about how to behave with other people. He falls back on his distance and works to keep people at an arms length while trying to learn about them. He however maintains his military mindset in spite of it all, being able to put work first and execute orders with what can be a chilling conciseness.

Custom Weapon: MilitiaCannon: An enormous magnum-like buster that can manifest on either arm, fires large and devastating bolts.

Signature Attack:

[140] ZeroShot: 3x20 dmg + 80 Teleportation 4CD: Militiaman's Zeroshift activates in a limited sense, teleporting him across the field and using remaining power to supercharge a trio of blasts from his cannon.

[80] Fieldmedic:(20*4) heal 15 points each turn, passive: An assist program within Militiaman healing him at periodic intervals. The internal program knits data back together from the inside out with a wire frame aesthetic.

[120] Tomahawk: 40 Homing + 80 dmg 3CD: Militiaman calls in a hit from summoned silos, a powerful tomahawk missile tearing through the field to bear down on a single virus. The missile focuses relentlessly on the target.

[80] ZeroShift: 80 Teleportation 2CD: Militiaman's damaged Zeroshift program, an instance allowing massive transfer of data across tiny uninterruptable streams. The program is improperly programmed into him, and damages him internally each time.

0/420 (used/max pool)


Rebirth Bio: He won't be so much as rebirthed as reintegrated into society. Simon spent a small time with the netpolice and an escapade with his estranged son, yet finds himself no nearer to the answers that he's been searching for. He now knows that his answers rest not in the hands of those serving the will of officials, but the ones bold enough to take it. After a confrontation between Gungnir and Militiaman, which resulted in a resounding victory for all involved, Simon and Sieg reconciled and Sieg went back to his home country of Electopia, understanding what it was that Simon had yet to complete. Sieg also, in an act of good will, Sieg left Simon Gungnirs folder and upgrades, as Militiaman had been stripped of his official gear upon leaving the force (Yet still posed a massive threat to Gungnir), for Simon to once again have a foothold in his quest to find out the truths behind the program installed in Militiaman. Plus, Sieg still aims to defeat Militiaman in battle, but realized he was going about it the wrong way, and also wishes to wash his hands of his past childishness in both program, tactics, and mind; so he hands them over without qualm.

Name: Simon Samael Stone
Age: 32
Gender: Male

Appearance:(picture soon to come) Simon stands an imposing 6'8", with ripped muscles and a strong stature. His hair is lank and light brown, hanging around his ears. His outfit is a white wifebeater with a green pair of cargo pants hanging baggy over his black and blue shoes. His waist bears a tied coat with wrapped about arms tying it together. Around his neck a pair of army dogtags hang from a simple metal chain. His eyes are green and he has a light tan to his skin. He rarely shaves and bears a steady stubble, and is rarely seen without a thick stogie in his lips, and a lighter kept in his pocket (one of the many).

Personality: Simon can come off as haughty and cold in his drive for answers, he bears a strong sense of justice that falls outside of the goals set forth for him in the Military. He gets to know people primarily through assessments of their ability to maintain themselves. His respect is not easily earned, as he demands the best from himself and others around him, especially those who deign to involve themselves with him. Once earned however, his respect and trust is hard to damage, yet he unfortunately retains personal barriers between people that, amicable as he may seem, keep him from truly forming bonds with others.

PET Modifications: His PET barely contains any modifications, he has the ability to maintain a private connection between himself and his netnavi if he needs.

Exchanging two of each upgrade for a total of six upgrades (3/3/3) if I'm understanding correctly!

[140] ZeroShot: 3x20 dmg + 80 Teleportation 4CD: Militiaman's Zeroshift activates in a limited sense, teleporting him across the field and using remaining power to supercharge a trio of blasts from his cannon.

[80] Fieldmedic:(20*4) heal 15 points each turn, passive: An assist program within Militiaman healing him at periodic intervals. The internal program knits data back together from the inside out with a wire frame aesthetic.

[120] Tomahawk: 40 Homing + 80 dmg 3CD: Militiaman calls in a hit from summoned silos, a powerful tomahawk missile tearing through the field to bear down on a single virus. The missile focuses relentlessly on the target.

[80] ZeroShift: 80 Teleportation 2CD: Militiaman's damaged Zeroshift program, an instance allowing massive transfer of data across tiny uninterruptable streams. The program is improperly programmed into him, and damages him internally each time.

0/420 (used/max pool)

I hope I got everything straight, please let me know if my math is off, my understanding of the effects are bugger, etc.