Post by Navarre Scarborough on Sept 10, 2009 23:44:06 GMT -5
Name: Navarre Scarborough
Alias: Knight of Two, ‘Knight of Tempests’, ‘Siege’, ‘Siege the Tempest’.
Age: 17
Birthday: July 27
Occupation: Knight of Two, Student
Race: Britannian
Appearance: Standing at a rather average five feet, eleven inches, Navarre is about the average height for a Britannian his age. Likewise, he is about the average weight, if not a bit under it, weighing in at 145 pounds. While he may be rather unimpressive by appearance, he has tremendous leg strength and thusly is very fast, lithe, athletic, and capable of dealing extremely strong kicks. His hair color is a forest green color, while his eyes display a similar, yet lighter shade of the same green. Scarborough’s skin is pale, similar to many of his fellow Britannians, and even though he’s been through many battles, is skin shows no sign of wear and tear or roughness at all. Generally speaking, his eyes and face show signs of sorrow, as if he’d seen countless atrocities. At this point, his appearance varies upon who he is at the time, the Knight of Two or a Britannian student.
As a student, he spikes his hair towards the front, making one larger spike that hangs out in front of his face, and curves left towards his eye. Another, smaller spike, curving around the first, but not going as far, lands on his forehead. While the prior section may have seemed planned, the rest of his hair is not. The rest of it is simply left to go where it wants, leaving it with an unkempt and messy look. His hair is pretty long, but it elevates as opposed to falling down towards his neck. He wears the typical Ashford Academy uniform, the black blazer with gold markings and the black pants. The collar tends to be a bit tight for his taste, so he often unbuttons it, getting him in a bit of trouble here and there. When out of school, he generally wears the white undershirt and the black pants from the school uniform. Occasionally, and in fact very rarely, he will carry a small dagger with him at school, but such an occasion is very rare.
When serving as the Knight of Two, or rather, ‘Siege’ he also wears the typical Knight of the Round outfit, with a few modifications. Navarre wears the same top as the rest, an elegant, white, long-sleeved shirt, buttoned near the ribs and embroidered with gold, with a black undershirt and an elaborate gold symbol that is shown by the opening of the white top. The long cap extension usually hangs down, but in his case, it extends more outward and is a bit shorter, giving him more room to kick and run. His black gloves are longer, reaching to about his elbow, and covering his white sleeves. He carries a pistol, a short sword, and a few daggers with him at all times. The black boots run up to his ankles, just like the other members of the Round. The black undershirt that usually runs up the neck is instead lower, as per his hatred of high collars. Keeping his identity a secret, he wears a white mask, depicting the masks of tragedy and comedy. The left is comedy and the right is tragedy, but the mask has no separation, and is very simple (Take half of these www.acclaimimages.com/_gallery/_images_n300/0071-0904-3008-0919_comedy_and_tragedy_masks.jpg). It covers his entire face, and is held on tightly from the back, but the bands are hidden by his hair. During some occasions, the Knights wear a larger cape over their entire outfit, with varying colors; Navarre’s is red with gold symbols. The entirety of Siege’s hair is put up into spikes, all of which lean to the right and upwards at an angle. A few spikes fall forward onto his mask, while two long bangs extend past his cheek, just in front of his ears on either side of his face. ( i32.photobucket.com/albums/d38/YellowXXVII/Syncface.jpg Hairstyle, color, Knight Version)
Knightmare Frame Pelleas: Based off the typical frame, the Sutherland, the Pelleas is a weapon unlike any other. Aesthetically, the color scheme of purple-black has been changed to a teal and green version, and it has been made into a taller 20 foot version. The jutting cockpit as been made smaller, so that it is no longer so greatly apparent, and the same goes for the back. Instead, on the front, juts out a half circle of armor plating, made for the purpose of protecting the cockpit. The face largely resembles a human one, having large green eyes and moving the factsphere sensor to the shoulders has given it a more human look. It still has the long 'ears' of the Sutherland, in fact his are extended, and those along with the rest of the head are evenly divided down the middle, into a teal half and a green half. Attached to the wrists of each arm are claws, which can fold up and rest on the forearm to allow use of firearms or swords, or can extend and cover his hands to be used as a weapon. The claws are very long, measuring out to four feet each. Most power is pumped into the legs, which are very powerful, containing strong joints and great force. He posses jumping and speed that are unmatched by any other frame. He has four landspinners, two on each foot on either side of the ankle. His factsphere sensors are on his shoulders, which have a curved plate of armor on them. His feet are flat, and have small propulsion boosters on the bottom, making for some quick movements.
Knightmare Equipment:
Slash Harken x1 (fired from chest)
Factsphere sensors x2 (shoulders)
Detachable Landspinners x4
Short Swords x2
Energy Daggers x6 (waist)
Miniturrets x3 (head, each wrist)
Machine Gun x1
Small Energy Shields x2 (each forearm)
History: Gerard Scarborough was a recently employed, inexperienced drone of a Britannian sakuradite provider, a company that he had joined as an errand boy. Because he was not nobility (mostly, anyway), he could not land a high paying job at the snap of his fingers, nor did he have any great sum of money to start out with. It was when he was given the low-paying job that he met Navarre’s mother, Anna. She was a young, ravishing Britannian youth, who was unemployed at the time. After months of outings, the two finally realized their feelings and fell in love, and were married a few months after their initial meeting. Even with Anna taking whatever jobs available that required little to no skill, the two’s inability to pay the rent for their small apartment infused Gerard with the passion and boost he needed, and eventually promotions came to him, and the money followed. After 12 years, he finally reached the point of being a representative to a small island under Britannian rule that was known to have absolutely zero sakuradite in it. At any rate, Gerard managed to secure mining rights, and sure enough, they struck sakuradite. While not an extraordinary or particularly great amount, it was a moderate quantity and of decent quality, and for little money, it turned out to be a great deal for the company.
Needless to say, everyone employed or involved with the situation were given promotions and raises, Gerard being one of the people that benefited the most, as he was the man that suggested mining the island in the first place. Gaining a grand sum of money via the ten percent commission, the Scarboroughs had shot themselves into wealth and the high life in little time. Immediately they bought a new home, and Gerard splurged on things like cars, and any other pointless item to show his wealth. Eventually, Anna became pregnant and gave birth to Navarre at the age of 28, while his father was thirty years old and still going up in the buisiness world. While the birth of her first and ultimately only child should have been a happy occasion, a sneaking feeling that Anna had for a while had begun to manifest. Her husband had become tied up in work, and the spark of their marriage had begun to fade. Her husband could care less about her, and even though Gerard wouldn’t deny any of her material requests, she had begun to long for the old times.
Pushing such feelings aside, she decided that it would be unhealthy for her son to see her in a constant state of unhappiness; she pushed aside her own feelings and put on a happy facade for her son. Growing up, she was the only person there for him, and obviously, he held onto her as tight as he could. She spent nearly all her time with him, and instilled in him the morals and manners that she believed were right. She taught him humility, gratefulness, compassion, and grace, all these things despite his financial standing. In fact, she even home schooled him the first few years, as the child was very adverse to the idea of leaving his mother, and she felt same way. Still, she’d taught him that education was the path to success, and so he eventually began his elementary education. While charming and friendly at school, he frequently blew off opportunities to be with his friends for quiet evenings at home with his mother. While he had an overly strong bond with his mother, he had no such thing with his father. On rare occasions, when his father (now CEO and president of the company) would visit, Navarre would need help from his mother in identifying the man.
As such, from an early age, Navarre’s views on marriage and love were skewed and off base, and while his mother tried to correct them, he still remained confused on the matters, even up to the present time. Whenever he would inquire about his father, Anna’s cheerful expression turned into sorrowful one, and the young Scarborough followed suit. Further confusing him was how a man’s name could bring her instant sadness, and yet she would make excuses for him, smile when he was around, do whatever he liked, and show him great affection. Such unrequited love seemed to be both a beautiful and an ugly thing, but in either sense, it left Navarre saddened and puzzled. He made it his life goal to make her happy, and so he did. High marks in school made her smile, and so he studied hard; spending time with her did the same, and so he did. The list goes on, but the child’s attempts at giving her happiness could not stand against the loss of a lover, at least in her eyes.
One day, when Navarre was about 13 years old, his father came home early. He claimed that nothing would make his son more proud (or bolster his company’s reputation) than if his own son joined the military. His mother became extremely upset, stood, and claimed that the man sitting before her was nothing more than a shadow of the man she had married, and that she would not send her son to go die for nothing. His father stood and harshly slapped her across her face, claiming that she had no right to defy him. Only able to clench his fists and watch, Navarre obeyed his father and followed him into a room to speak ‘man to man’, that way his mother would be out of harm's way. His father asked him if he truly wanted to make his mother happy, to which Navarre responded in the affirmative. Gerard went onto explain that by joining the military, he could give the company a great selling point to the government, which would then grant his father more government money and he would be able to hire more employees, therefore he could be home with Anna more often, which would make her a great deal happier. Seeing a chance to make his father proud and his mother happy, the young and impulsive Navarre agreed with his father, and promised to join the military.
Packing his bags in the morning, his mother held to his arm and begged him not to leave, weeping as he pulled away. He told her it was for her sake and for his father too, and for the safety of Britannia. As he walked slowly down the broad staircase, he was surprise to see his father waiting there. He bid his son ado as he was driven off to the recruitment center, and his mother could only weep from the window as she watched her son slip away from her. The long drive was nerve-racking to say the least, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d made the right choice at that point. If he failed to pass then his father would be disgraced, though his mother might be happy to see him return safe and sound. Being in the top physical shape he was at that point, he vowed to himself that he would make his mother happy and his father proud, even if it meant killing himself in battle. As long as she was happy, he would do anything; even go against his own beliefs. The training was difficult, even as a new recruit and son of a rich man, the exercises were grueling. Navarre seemed to struggle in particular with any of the activities that required great amounts of upper body strength, but excelled in anything having to do with the lower body or running. While he was incapable of lifting anything close to his body weight, he did show great amounts of stamina and the highest level of speed among the recruits at that time. His swordsmanship was average, but it should be noted that the shorter his blade, the better he did. His marksmanship was not overly poor, but definitely not one of his stronger points. While not necessarily a bad aim, he simply preferred close range combat, and although not having a specific style, he proved to be an adept close range combatant. His stealth and Knightmare piloting scores on the simulator were also high, and he finished the first year of training at the very top of the new recruits.
As such, he didn’t have to deal with as many years of grunt work, but the experience was still necessary. Doing anything from guarding warehouses to guarding slightly important ambassadors, for someone as impatient as Navarre, it was hell. Not only did nothing happen, he wasn’t doing anything to protect Britannia. Furthermore, the army had supplied him with enough work to keep him from dropping by to see his mother, although he called her frequently. Each time they conversed, she seemed to grow more and more saddened, and it was worrying him. Perhaps if he moved up, his father could advertise a bit better and stay home a bit longer. Soon enough, his time came. He was on assignment as the outer guard of the building where an ambassador for the Chinese Federation. Around midnight, the left guard stopped responding to radio contact, and being a part of the front guard, Navarre grew suspicious. He sent the man with him to go check on them, while he went to see how the ambassador was doing. He climbed the stairs rapidly, and avoiding the injured bodies of his allies, he kicked down the door and reaching the room to see a man in black, pointing a Britannian pistol at a terrified ambassador. The assassin quickly turned his gun toward the intruder, and told him to back off. Slowly slipping his hand to grab the dagger at his waist, he leaped quickly to the side and threw his dagger, accurately hitting the man in the shoulder of his gun arm, causing him to drop it. As the assassin desperately made a move for his gun, Navarre shot him around the hip area. Dashing over to the man, he stepped forcefully on his chest, keeping him from moving to the gun. Pressing on the communicator on his left ear, he called his teammates up, and they made the arrest. Meanwhile, the man explained to him that the 'ambassador' was in fact planning to gain Britannian trust and create an opening to strike. He claimed he was on the side of justice, but Navarre quickly disagreed, stating that justice was not something that could be decided by everyday men.
He was thanked wholeheartedly by the ambassador, but was initially reprimanded for his actions. Though bold and lifesaving, they were rash and against orders, as the interior guard should have been able to take care of the situation. It turned out the man was a high ranking Britannian soldier, and that was why he was able to defeat the guards so easily. As a reward, Navarre was promoted, and the story was played on the news for quite a few days. Much to his father’s joy, the sales of his company skyrocketed, and Navarre became sure that such a thing would allow his father to return home and guarantee his mother’s happiness. Another perk that came with it was a bit of celebrity status in the military as well as off-duty, and although he wasn’t one for attention, Scarborough couldn’t help but enjoy a bit of the fame and fortune. Still, as with all things, it wore off soon. Hope began to show itself as his mother began to send him letters saying that she was much happier, and that Gerard was staying home more. It brought a spring to his step, and the fact that his promotion had given him the privilege of piloting Knightmare frames. While struggling at first in the more advanced simulators, he soon began to get a hold of it, but still was not very capable of using firearms from any sort of long distance, even in a Knightmare frame. As such, he was given a Sutherland, a typical starting unit. He favored the use of the Jousting Lance, and the Slash Harkens for mid range combat, and he proved himself a formidable unit. An additional perk to his valiant performance was a free week of paid absence, which he used to return home.
When he reached his home, he was embraced by his mother and she led him into the home to talk of his adventures in the military. Eventually, he brought up his father and the letters that his mother sent him, which she told him she didn’t recall writing. Surprised, he decided to go to his father’s workplace to get some answers. When he inquired about it, his father admitted it immediately. Gerard said it was necessary to keep Navarre motivated, so that he would continue on in the military and win his father’s company more sympathy and more money. Enraged, he was driven back home and told his mother all about it. Navarre figured she would be upset, but it was the opposite. She said that his father was simply looking after him, and that he was doing what was for the best. He couldn’t believe her; the man had betrayed and lied to them both and yet, she still loved him. His mother ended their chat saying that she wished she could go back to the old days, when the three of them would spend all day together. She told him that money was not the only thing, and made him promise to remember that. Somehow, he too could not amass a hatred for his father. Soon his time at home came to an end, and he returned to the military.
After numerous battles in the EU and Chinese Federation, Navarre had proven himself a capable pilot and reliable unit on the battlefield. In fact, he’d earned himself the right to customize his Knightmare frame a bit, choosing to drop the guns for two smaller swords, and improving the joints in the legs for optimum speed and agility. While the battles in the EU were primarily spearheaded by Schneizel himself, there were a few where the 2nd Prince could not be present, and those battles were significantly tougher. It was in one of those battles, an assault on a Britannian base in the Caspian Sea where Navarre really showed his worth. While the attack was a surprise, Britannia managed to mobilize quickly to defend itself. However, the EU had already struck a Knightmare hangar, significantly reducing the firepower of its opposition. Under the command of the general, Navarre was told to take a small strike force and attack their flagship, a large boat which was only a mile away from the base. Taking four other units, the Knightmares were dropped off via airplane. An unexpected a blow, but effective as they managed to destroy various unmanned Knightmare units, planes, jets and numerous other objects of war before Knightmare were mobilized to repel the strike force and fight on the large battleship. Three of the Britannian units were taken out, leaving simply Navarre and one other. Decimating the remaining forces in the hangar, Navarre was hit by armor piercing rounds from one of the circling aircrafts. Refusing to eject, he crashed his Knightmare into the elevated deck of the ship, creating an opening. He jumped out of his unit and dashed in, taking out the two dazed guards at the front. His remaining teammate soon accompanied him, and they finally found their way to the area where the EU’s general was giving orders, guarded by five or so men. When both parties opened fire, Navarre’s partner was killed and Scarborough was hit in the shoulder. Navarre shot the two remaining guards, but took another hit on his hip. Limping forth, he held his dagger to the General’s throat. Forcibly, he gave the order to retreat and both the general and Navarre were safely taken into Britannian custody.
After his heroic effort and during his recuperation, he asked that in all reports or press releases that his name be released as Siege, and that Navarre would receive credit as a key but wounded soldier in the battle. In that way, he wouldn’t have to deal with the hell of celebrity status, and his father would still get his wish. As Navarre was owed a small debt from Britannia, they honored his wishes. Soon enough, the name Siege began to spread within the military, and with the weather conditions of the fight, the title stretched to ‘Siege the Tempest’, as he became quite the fabled warrior around the military. Along with the fame and a bit of fortune, he gained a bit of leeway in customizing a personal Knightmare frame. He had a Sutherland modified so that more power was being run to the legs portion, and that the joints in the legs were particularly strong. Afterward, he decided to return home to his parents, spurred by a phone call from his mother. She’d missed him, and he didn’t want to torture her; especially since she might have received reports about his injuries. Using his favor with the Britannian higher ups as quickly as possible, he requested a reprieve and was given it as such. Not only that, he would be paid in full. Needless to say, he had begun to enjoy all the perks and the fame of it, and he would be more than happy to share his experiences with her, and no doubt she’d be in a happy mood. After all, his success meant his father’s, and that meant more time for his mother. It felt good to know that his success had a direct correlation to his mother’s happiness, and that way he could put all of his efforts into military success, without even a shadow of a doubt.
As per the usual, he was showered by hugs and doting words from his mother, but this time felt different. Usually he enjoyed that kind of thing, signs of affection and representations that showed him he was loved and needed. This time if felt as if he had been doing more harm than good, like his intentions were actually being realized in the opposite way. Was he hurting her more than he was helping? Navarre was the only thing she had left, the only person that seemed to ratify her continued existence. But now that Siege had come into play, he couldn't just retire and return to ordinary family life, or at least, what was ordinary for them. And that thought swirled upon another, and his mind became clouded with doubts as he walked in to sit and have a nice nostalgic chat with her. The conversation whirled about for a little bit, and soon enough the subject went onto how different Navarre was from any kid his age. At that point, he had no friends, he never went out with any girls, did homework, had angst, or did anything else similar to the norm. Maybe he'd go down in the history books as a great pilot and soldier, but when he got old and looked back, would he really have enjoyed his life? In the end, Navarre would miss out on all the things that stay with someone their entire life. That was the beginning of his longing for a normal life.
Soon enough, he parted ways with his mother and successfully avoided any encounter with his father. What he'd done before was unforgivable, and if he ever did a similar act he wouldn't escape unscathed. The funny thing was, he thought that enough, but he never could imagine himself doing anything. In that way, Navarre was truly weak-minded and cowardly. He was being manipulated; his mother was being thrown deeper and deeper into a depression-like state, and for what? Business, money, power, status, they were truly the source of all evil. He swore it as a child, and again he swore with all his heart that he would never judge based on those things, take pride in them, or make them his goals. His return to the EU battlefront was of much help, and Siege yet again made many a mark on the battles and on his opponents. His great contributions on the front lines of the war with the EU over a few years had elevated him to a point where whispers of a huge promotion were not uncommon. While he denied any sort of correlation between his performance and a spot on the Knights of the Round, but even doubters were mystified as soon as they saw what he could do with a Knightmare. Not only was he capable, his machine was only slightly altered in comparison to the others, and that’s what made him even more impressive. Soon the suspicions came to fruition, and he was invited to meet the emperor in Pendragon. Entering a large and lavish building, he stared in awe at the menacing figure that was Emperor Charles zi Britannia. He quickly took a knee and stated how honored and unworthy he was, which was met with a hearty chuckle. Commanded to walk forward and kneel, he did so, and was appointed Knight of Eleven of Britannia. Trying to hold in some sort of a stupid grin, he walked out and proceeded to return to base. He was congratulated all around, and he could feel a sort of aura of superiority. Back in his quarters, he called his mother to reassure that he was fine, but hide his promotion. Maintaining that Siege and Navarre were two different people was difficult, and it required lying to the person he loved the most. Still, only the highest ranking generals and special officers knew of his double life, and he generally walked around as Siege, dawning a theater mask of tragedy and comedy and carrying himself with pride.
However, his mother answered in a distressed tone of voice. She seemed to be holding back tears, but was not capable of doing so. She told him that when she went to visit her husband at his office, he was with another woman. Navarre punched the desk he was leaning on with all his might, making a loud crashing sound. He exclaimed loudly that he was going home, and she told him not too. She explained that she’d already forgiven him, he had no need to be enraged, and he should stay to protect Britannia. Begrudgingly, he gave in and decided to stay. After a month or so, she called again, and told Navarre about how happy she was, and how she was spending a lot of time with Mr. Scarborough now. Needless to say, the Knight was skeptical, but overjoyed. Finally, he’d brought happiness to his mother’s tortured life. He continued his work with greater passion, now happy his primary goal was met and he was then capable of focusing solely on his battle capabilities. In this short time he improved vastly, and his true abilities as a pilot and soldier were becoming blatantly apparent. It had come to the point where his abilities were undisputed, and it was obvious that he was not worthy of the number Eleven, but something greater. Generals began vying for his participation in their battles, as he was easily more valuable as a single unit that entire battalions. His fame preceded him wherever he went, and soldiers would let out sighs of relief when he was sent into the battle. He made generals look good, make allies jobs easier, and make the enemies look, well, dead. He showed no remorse, and spared nothing if it would further elevate his reputation. He would become the greatest Knight of Britannia, and shine brightly for Britannia, for his mother, and more than ever, for himself. Eventually, Britannia began the conquest of the Middle-East, soon to be known as Area 18. He put down rebellions and slaughtered guerrillas almost single-handedly, and his presence was a decisive factor in many key battles. Armed with his new and speedy Knightmare frame, the Pelleas, he was near unstoppable. Not only were his comrades taking notice, the higher ups were too. Soon enough, he was promoted a full nine levels to the Knight of Two, as a result of his skill, obedience, and dedication to Britannia. His return home was not so pleasant, however.
When he came home, there was no warm embrace, only silence. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his father, and when inquired about his mother’s location, he said that he turned her into the police for the possession of the illegal drug, refrain. It all made sense, the sudden change in emotions and delusions of happiness had some reasoning behind them. Her sentence was set to last 20 years, but Navarre went before the Emperor and pleaded whole-heartedly. He swore a lifetime of servitude to Britannia and at half pay as well, and in return, his mother’s sentence would be cut as well. The request was denied, but Navarre thought of another way. Becoming the Knight of One meant he would have more say, more power in the eyes of the Emperor. He knew then what he had to do, even if the notion was rash, stupid, and even suicidal to even consider. To become Knight of One, he had to usurp the current Knight in a display of power, and so he aimed to challenge Bismarck Waldstein, Knight of One.
Bismarck was, of course, in Pendragon. Navarre had never had an encounter with the man, he'd only seen him sparingly and only heard rumors. He knew that he piloted the Galahad, and wielded the giant sword Excalibur. Just that thought on the flight over there made him smirk. Swinging around a bigass sword did indeed cause a lot of damage, but only to those slow enough to be hit by it. Not only that, having large amounts of brute strength often gave the illusion of ability and skill where none was present. Even though that was often the case, he couldn't just assume that it was that way for Bismarck. No, it would be foolhardy to go in there underestimating the supposed...no, the greatest knight in all of Britannia. Which brought up the question, was the Pelleas a match for the Galahad? While Navarre had no doubts about his piloting ability, the Pelleas had been undergoing major and frequent mechanical changes, and he'd yet to adjust to them properly. Just recently, he'd decided to drop a weapon he was proficient with, the jousting lance. His Pelleas came equipped with energy daggers, two short blades, two slash harkens, a small assault rifle, and detachable land spinners. The concept of detachable land spinners was something pioneered by Navarre himself, allowing for quickness as opposed to speed.
Arriving at Pendragon, he arranged a meeting with Bismarck, feigning the subject to be a matter of national security. If he knew one thing about Bismarck, it's that he promoted the use of violence as a last resort. When he met with Bismarck, Navarre explained his intentions. The Knight of One laid out his answer bluntly, a cold no. The intensity in Navarre's voice increased, and he explained that he HAD to fight Bismarck, no matter what. Still, nothing got through to the man, who ironically seemed to be some sort of a pacifist. Finally, Navarre managed to trigger the man's inner need to fight. "I didn't think the Knight of One to be a coward. Pathetic." Those words, spoken cynically and condescendingly, forced Bismarck out of his shell. "Arrogant pups like yourself must be taught a lesson in etiquette." He spoke, and the two of them agreed that they would meet in a dry wasteland outside of Pendragon, a large area with nothing around for miles.
Given a three day reprieve, the clash between the two greatest Knights in all of Britannia was set, and the Galahad and the Pelleas stood face to face. "I'll give you another chance to run with your tail in between your legs. There's no shame in admitting defeat." Navarre scoffed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Nice try, but you won't be getting off that easily. I'll show you how unworthy you are!" Navarre retorted, and with it's great leg strength, the Pelleas pushed itself forward and high into the air, bringing a strong roundhouse kick down with it. "Insolent worm!" Bismarck shouted, as Excalibur was unsheathed and used to parry the kick quite easily. Gathering, the Pelleas pushed off of the sword, moving away just as Bismarck prepared his counter slash. Navarre the landspinners to dash forward, the Knight of One used a high, broad slash to halt his advance, but the Pelleas crouched under and pulled a short sword to make the first hit. Not having any of that, the Galahad used an awkward but firm kick to launch the Pelleas away. "Such tricks won't have any effect on me." He spoke sarcastically, trying to rile up the opposing Knight. "Tch, you overestimate yourself."
By that time his Knightmare had gathered itself, only sustaining minor damage from the kick that was meant more to create separation than to cause any sort of harm. Round one was a draw, so let's kick it into a higher gear this time, Pelleas..." His speed was his biggest advantage, and although launching himself into the air gave him more power, but it certainly gave the slow as a snail Bismarck time to plant himself for a block and counter. It seemed to him that the amount of force he'd gained was not equivalent to the amount of time the Knight of One had to prepare. This time, there would be no chance to set up, no time to block. Once again applying the landspinners, he made another mad dash towards his opponent. Said enemy scoffed and immediately stabbed forward with Excalibur. "Gotcha." The Pelleas spun off where the blade would have hit him, getting him right up close to a surprised Bismarck. "Childish." Waldstein spoke as he brought his powerful blade back to slice Navarre. The Pelleas' hands grabbed onto the Galahad's shoulders and pushed up, launching the light frame into the air, just enough to dodge the broad swipe. Coming back down fast with an axe kick, the blow hit the Galahad's shoulder as it moved away to avoid having the more important head taken out. Point Siege.
Wheeling away, Bismarck spoke again. "Not half bad. But I'm still not even trying." Navarre smirked and responded tauntingly. "Really now? It seemed to me you couldn't keep up." The elder Knight decided it was high time he take to the offensive side and even up the score. As the Pelleas was regathering itself from its previous strike, the Galahad took the opportunity to rush forward and bring a hard slash down towards Navarre. Having no time to react, he raised the clawed hand of the Pelleas to block the blow, but to no avail. For a while the claw scratched against the sword, but proved no match as the tips shattered. Navarre pulled away quickly enough to avoid having his whole hand shattered, but he'd lost the primary offense of his right hand. Dammit. Point Bismarck.
Wasting no time, he planted his recently injured arm into the ground and launched a powerful kick backwards at Bismarck, who blocked it with his sword but was blown back a bit. Even then, he couldn't let the pace of the fight slow down, not even a little bit. He pulled an energy dagger, one of his specialties, from his waist and threw them at Bismarck, who easily deflected them with his blade. But as soon as he moved his sword to check where his opponent was, he found him to be right there. Navarre thrusted his clawed left hand forward, and it successfully hit the hip joint of Bismarck's Knightmare, a seemingly glancing blow. He followed it up with the short sword in his injured right hand, slashing forward at the bastard. It was deflected once more, and Waldstein quickly knocked the pesky Pelleas away with the blunt side of his blade. Landing on his back, Navarre quickly pulled himself back up and grinned. Another point for me.
"Are you so content with such a mild blow? Pathetic." Bismarck charged forward, this time bringing his sword diagonally towards the Pelleas. Navarre was prepared for such a huge swing, and he quickly kicked the elbow joint of his swinging arm, causing the blade to fly out of the hands of it's wielder and land a few meters away. "What?" Perfect. Siege had him right where he wanted him, and he wasn't getting away with out a scratch. Navarre swiped with his short sword but missed as Waldstein dashed for his blade. "Coward! Are you nothing without your blade?" Siege threw a dagger at the Galahad, hitting it in the same hip as before, causing him to take a knee, standing just a little ways away from Excalibur. Seeing a golden chance, Navarre rashly ran after the wounded Bismarck, but as soon as he was close enough, the Galahad's fist met with the head of the Pelleas, knocking the mech back onto his rear. "Got too excited, whelp." Bismarck took the chance to pick up his sword and stood ready.
The Knight of Two stood again, pissed that he had been so impatient, but content with his overall performance. Three all. Waldstein promptly pulled the dagger from his hip, and stood defensively. Looks like it's my go again. Propelling himself forward, he knew exactly where he was going to hit his opponent from before it even started. With a short sword in his right and claw on his left, he used a flurry of stabs and thrusts aimed at One's upper body. Masterfully and gracefully, Bismarck dodged all of them, but the constant pressure was too much for him to put up a decent counterattack. Getting sick of dodging, he gave the Pelleas a forearm shot to the head, but Navarre dug his feet in and kept his his very light frame from being knocked away. Now he ducked down and stabbed his claw into Bismarck's hip, the same he'd targeted before. "Oh, what a tactician. Hitting my hip to weaken my stance."
Navarre jumped back in time to avoid the retaliation slash, and now his plan was into motion. He leaped into the air again, taking of higher than before. "This again? A little extra height will do you no good." Siege came forward with a roundhouse kick, which hit hard against Excalibur, shattering a bit of his foot. "How fragile." But as he spoke, the short sword came down with great force, and although less than the kick, it did its job. The sword shattered, to which Bismarck let out a condescending laugh, but the hip of his unit gave out as Navarre landed, leaving the prime opportunity for the finishing blow. "And now it's over!" He exclaimed excitedly, bringing his clawed arm towards the cockpit of a seemingly too shocked to move Bismarck. "That it is..." The Knight of One spoke, and with his right arm only he brought the Excalibur diagonally, cutting part of the Pelleas' chest and severing the right arm, as well as revealing a bloodied Siege through an uncovered portion of the cockpit. An explosion occurred, and Bismarck stood slowly and turned his back, sheathing Excalibur.
"Damn you..." Navarre cursed, barely managing to get the Pelleas up. "So you can move?" But before he could get an answer the Pelleas was upon him, and its claw cut through the weaker joint of the Galahad's left arm. "I have to win, I must become the Knight of One. I have a purpose, someone who needs me! I won't lose to an egotistical bastard like you!" He gasped, blood trickling down his face and pouring profusely from his arm. "I too have a purpose. I failed her, Lady Marianne...and for that, I will remain the strongest Knight of Britannia and pay my debt to my country..." Navarre's unit jumped back and threw a few daggers, which were blocked easily. With a quick step, the decisive slash cut the Pelleas in two at the waist, forcing Siege to eject. "Don't let it end here..." He ejected quickly enough to evade the explosion, but the propulsion system had been damaged and it crashed into a tree at its base.
Navarre emerged, dizzy and barely able to see. "Now do you see? You're eons away from defeating me. Come back when your bite matches your bark, whelp." Siege panted, not able to speak to his own defense. 5-3. Game, set, match... Was all he could think. He'd been rash, and now he was very much in shock that he had been bested for the first time. He limped back to civilization to be treated for his injuries. Britannian medical capabilities were amazing, but they hadn't yet found a way to heal a man's pride. Perhaps worst of all was that the Pelleas was now completely destroyed, and it would take quite a long time to be rebuilt. Not only did he not become Knight of One, he'd come no closer; in fact, farther, as he could not bolster his reputation without his Knightmare. For weeks on weeks he couldn't sleep, unable to live down the shame.
But there was an opportunity within that failure, and he took it for the best and enrolled in Ashford Academy in Japan, in hopes of living his dream of being just a regular kid. He wears two mask now: Siege, fighting for Britannia and his mother, and Navarre, the everyday student. He is both and he is neither, and he struggles to find himself within his own deceptions. He still strives to be Knight of One, free his mother, and find himself among the endless sea of masks.
Personality:[/u] Navarre's personality is difficult to describe, because he seems to change it seamlessly with his act. Generally speaking, when people put on an act, they know what they are returning to, what their normal persona is. They simply act or lie for a while and then go back to being themselves, but the situation is very different for the Knight of Two. Somewhere along the road, he seemed to have lost who he was originally. From a very young age he had to put on a mask, a guise of happiness, even though he was feeling quite the opposite. Even as his parents argued and fought, as his mother became more and more depressed, he had to learn very quickly how to maintain his mask. At that point he still had his very own persona, but with the introduction of Siege, all that would fade. He had to be arrogant, bold, fearless, jaded, and heartless to get by, because the big softy he used to be wasn't going to cut it in the higher ranks of the military, and especially not amongst the Knights of the Round. At home he always had to be happy, and when at war he had to be cruel and cold, so as one might imagine, the young boy soon lost his way, and who he was. Becoming a student should have allowed him to be himself, but he'd already lost who he was a while ago, and so being a student just turned into another act. Although, the mask of the student is his favorite, much preferred to Siege.
Such an identity crisis would usually be a pretty big deal, but yet again, this wasn't a normal case. Because his mother was imprisoned, his father was himself, and the fact that no one knew him as both Siege and Navarre, he hasn't needed to be himself in quite a long time. Which is not to say he doesn't wish that someone knew of him in both ways, someone he could trust, and be completely honest to. Having no way to actively search for such a person without seeming weird or drawing attention, he has resigned himself to waiting for such a person to find him, not the other way around. Perhaps through that person, he could finally be himself once again, and not just be a man with a million masks. It's important to establish that finding himself, however cliche, is one of his primary goals in life. While it isn't his reason for living, it is a goal to which he can actively chase, and in that way keep from becoming bored. The only problem is, there is not a single person that can identify the two, so to reach that goal, he must first find that person, or people even.
As a student, Navarre tries to be as conformist as possible. He'll pick up on the flow and go with it, because that is quite obviously the choice for someone who's trying not to be noticed. Of course, being so extremely unnoticeable can sometimes be more attention grabbing than one might think. As such, he tries to maintain a bright and cheery disposition, giving off the impression of a teen that's just happy to be in high school. He likes to lend a hand, help where he can, and is always up for the simple and ordinary things, like just hanging around people. He'll raise his hand every now and again in class, and stays at about a constantly borderline A to A- range in his classes. Navarre will generally be found with a smile on his face, and a sort of carefree attitude. He likes to give advice or be helpful in any sort of way, and also seems to enjoy listening to others much more than speaking himself. For that reason, some students like to confide in him and go to him just to be heard. He'll give out some advice when necessary, but any sort of a comment will be very much like a fortune cookie. It'll be short and concise, if not just a bit cryptic. He likes to comment and speculate on politics, and is very curious as to the motives of their leaders. Still, like a good boy, his answers are always for Britannia.
Socially, he can generally be found with a group of three or four others, if not less. Although not a fan of loud things or people, he'll usually dismiss them with a joke of some sort, or a small comment that can usually prod them to be a bit less obnoxious. When invited to parties or other such occasions he prefers to get in a small group of friends and simply chat or joke around, but if asked to dance, he couldn't refuse. The Knight of Two is a particularly good dancer, being light on his feet and as graceful as they come. He isn't great with melodies or beats, and especially not capable of moving to them, he does know the waltzes and the various other fine dances. One cannot speak of high school without mentioning the first steps and awkward ventures into the realm of the opposite sex, something Navarre is not particularly good at it. While he doesn't do the typical 'freeze up, sweat, and run' deal, in fact, he acts pretty normally. When faced with asking a girl to dance or go out, he generally refuses politely. Although hidden by the cool and bright exterior, he actually becomes quite nervous when alone with a girl or a group of them. When in a such a situation, he usually tries to casually slip away with some bogus excuse. However, he does seem to be popular amongst the opposite gender, and although he hasn't gone on a date or anything of the sort yet, he wouldn't refuse any invitations, purely out of embarrassment.
His act is nearly perfect, but sometimes he rubs off as overly inquisitive, as a result of his bit of paranoia. Navarre's default is to be suspicious of those around him, at least until he can get a read on them. Anyone could find him out, and all it takes is one loudmouth to ruin his dreams of happiness and a normal life. While this is an irregularity in his masquerade, he's become very good at apologizing for being so nosy, and will shift the topic to a more comfortable one. Despite the fact that he comes from a wealthy 'family', he doesn't look down on those less fortunate than him, and he is extremely humble in all things. No matter what he does, when praised, he'll smile and thank the person, but note that he was lucky. At the same time, he is quick to praise others, usually stating that person is superior to him in that aspect. He likes to feel needed, like most human beings do, and does his absolute best to be there for everyone as much as he can be. If there's one thing he absolutely fears, it's not being there. If anyone ever asked him why he wasn't there for them, he simply couldn't contain his depression. This fear in particular stems from the loss of his mother, which he deems his fault, and swears to never be missing when the people he cares for need him.
If at all involved with a situation that fails, the first person Navarre blames is himself. Even if the blunder is quite obviously not his own, his personal mantra is that in order for the world to progress or change, one must first look at himself. One cannot hope to make a difference in the world or in others if he cannot even make a change in himself. Although he possesses no such delusions of grandeur, it's something he believes in very strongly. With that saying close to his heart, it can be deduced that Navarre is his most persistent critic, and more often than not, he criticizes himself to a point of low self-esteem. Not to say that he is not confident, he simply loses said confidence very quickly. Sometimes that lack of self-esteem leeks through a mask, and he'll occasionally voice his doubt in his own abilities, no matter how meaningless the task. Often times he can seem overprotective, but that too comes out very rarely, and he's yet to find anyone that he cares enough for to do that. He is loyal to his friends, and tries to take any sort of an opportunity to do normal things with them. The Knight of Two is also pretty good at picking up subtle hints about a person's tone of voice and facial features, and uses that to figure people out, but more frequently in a more social way. Other than that, he's pretty rash and narrow-sighted, not very good at thinking ahead or seeing all the options, if he gets on the right track he is decently intelligent.
Navarre also participates in sports, and excels in track and field. He's actually become quite the star, despite the repercussions it could have on his ability to hide his identity. He does all the races, distance, relay, and sprints, and is the very best at all of them. While it maybe counter-intuitive to be so blatantly good at something, it's simply one of those things that he likes to do. He likes to be praised by coaches and peers, not to mention it could help him out later. Currently, since his Knightmare was wrecked by Bismarck, Navarre has been unable to participate very much in the actions of the military. That said, he keeps perfect attendance in his classes, but when his Knightmare is remade, such a task would become more difficult. Becoming a vital part of the sports team and paying attention to practices more than classes later on could possibly get him out of a whole lot of trouble. While he's usually not very good at thinking ahead, this was one time where he managed it.
When he dawns his mask and becomes Siege, some things change. First off, he becomes a very typical Britannian: arrogant and superior. Any lack of self-esteem that was evident as a student, Siege is starkly in the opposite direction. He's arrogant to a fault, although even still, he does not continue to feel greatly or vastly superior to the Elevens as others do. Socially....well, that's non-existent. He doesn't speak to any of the other Knights unless giving orders or spiting them for speaking to him. He likes to insult the other Knights, and takes any such opportunity, especially in regards to Gino and Bismarck. He doesn't usually insult the Knight of the One when in range of him, but Three is very different. The kid is obnoxious, and he absolutely despises him. What Siege wants in a soldier is humility, bravery, loyalty, and skill, and he believes that Gino possesses no such blessings. When Siege does speak it's with a calm tone, but also one that seems to mock constantly. Everything he says could be misconstrued as an insult, simply because of his tone of voice.
In battle, Siege is brave and loyal; even though he doesn't like to take orders, he also doesn't believe in teamwork. Not only can he do it on his own, he can do it better than anyone else combined. He considers himself Britannia's greatest Knight and assassin, and always denies that Bismarck has any claim to his title. He'll generally disregard anything a general or fellow Knight has to say, because he needs no plan. The Knight of Tempests simply charges in and wins, that's the one and only plan that is ever in consideration. One would then deduce that he prefers to give orders, but that he does not. He has no knack for strategy or scheming, but he will take orders from any member of the royal family. While the success of the mission is usually his primary objective, all such things will be dropped if the safety of a prince or princess is in question, his new goal will be to get them to safety and destroy anyone who would try to do harm to them. Siege has no voiced opinion on politics or royal decisions, he simply follows orders like a good soldier. He is particularly fond of the two princesses, Cornelia and Euphemia, and is even more partial to them than the emperor himself. Of course, he's not so stupid as to voice such a preference. Generally speaking, he believes that people who speak more do it to hide their own stupidity. Such mature proclamations are typical of Siege, so he usually makes others believe that he is much older than he actually is. He tries very hard to make sure that he is the opposite of Navarre, and so he speaks little and seems pretty down all the time. No matter what the occasion, however, his true intentions are still to become the Knight of One. Not for the same selfish reasons as many others, but instead to save his mother. While this process should in theory give him a sense of purpose, there is still a void within him. He simply as no goals of his own, and for that reason often lacks the resolve that others have.
Even with his best efforts, there are some similarities between the two personas. Although neither share a strong sense of justice, both feel a need to protect the weak and avoid cruelty and unnecessary violence or cruelty. Obviously both share the same intelligence and the trait of being very eloquent. They both share the same air of grace and calmness, although both do express it in different ways. Both maintain a dislike of loud noises and people, as well as a nervousness around the fairer sex; the latter however, requires that "fair" be part of the description. Siege has learned to master some short phrases, but extended conversations or eye contact with attractive females are his undoing. Navarre, on the other hand, can only speak in a low, stuttery voice and blush if the woman is...provocative in any way. They both are compelled to grant the wish of any beautiful woman, however. Both are impatient and bad at being broad-minded, and they share the random fits of depression that come from the hopelessness of his situation. They also have an extreme hatred of Bears, for whatever reason, and a hatred of the number one for obvious reasons. More than that (and that's saying something), they both hate refrain and hope to eliminate its use completely. It ruined his life, it sure as hell wouldn't ruin the lives of the ones he cares for. Two points on which they differ are Elevens and losing. Navarre feels that Elevens are people too, with the same rights as any Britannian, while Siege feels they are a step under Britannia. Navarre is more than happy to lose if he has fun with it, but Siege absolutely despises losing, and is very competitive. In the end, it's very difficult for Navarre to decide which he is, and he struggles with it daily. He loses himself every few days, and has to soul search for quite a bit to reorient himself. If he was forced to choose which mask was closest to being an exact copy of his skin, he would choose Navarre. Siege exists solely for the purposes of protecting Britannia and saving his mother, the latter being the most important. If he could save his mother, he wouldn't know what to do. That would make him Knight of One, and he couldn't just resign from that position. At the same time, it was a stretch even for him, Knight of Two to pose as a student on a whim, but they sure as hell wouldn't allow there most talented and valued Knightmare pilot laze around at school simply because he has some vague need to be a normal civilian. That choice is something he ponders on constantly, and if asked to choose between the title of Knight of One of Britannia and Navarre Scarborough, high school student, which would he choose? That question is one of the many identity questions that he has no answer for, and that he seeks constantly.
Strengths:[/u] Expert Knightmare pilot, assassin, good actor, physically fit, fast, brave, confident, loyal, eloquent, fairly intelligent.
Weaknesses: Inaccurate with firearms, rash, impatient, overconfident (sometimes), follows orders to the letter, occasionally does not think of the whole picture, likes to fly solo.
Abilities: Knightmare pilot, assassin, actor, moderately good strategist, decent dancer, good at running track.
Weapon Proficiency: Daggers, claws, short swords, guns, hand to hand.
Allegiance: Britannia
Extra: N/A
Role-Playing Sample: The topic of that day in history class happened to be very modern, and hit pretty close to home for Navarre. It was the capturing of Area 18, formerly known as the Middle-East. A few years back, the many countries of that zone were supposed nuclear threats, and were quite the nuisance. After that bit of background, the teacher went on to say that the area was conquered fairly easily and quickly, despite the dirty tricks and ruthlessness displayed by the Arabs. That twisted Navarre's features into a sort of a frown, as he drifted back to his time in that battle. As he recalled it, it was Britannia that was ruthless and never played by the book. Such things were necessary in war, if one truly wanted to be on the winning end. Still, it came as no surprise that the government would manipulate the information sent out to the public. Public opinion wasn't a prime concern of any of the royals, but it sure helped that the people though they were on the side of justice. Besides, for these kids, they would never know what really happened or how much blood was on Navarre's hands.
While usually modern history was a good time for him to take a break and not pay any attention, it was good to compare and contrast the truth he'd seen with his own eyes and the message conveyed to the civilians. Oh, what he would give to know only those lies...the bell rang, while all the students let out some jumbled happy noises and packed their things so they could leave. Navarre did the same, and walked out with the last bit of the pack. He met up with a few of his classmates, and stood there chatting with them for quite some time. It was fun being able to speak to them frankly, and surely a hell of a lot better than trying to speak to any of the Knights. Not that he tried or cared of course, but the ordinary student talk was a lot better than the military jargon. A few of them voiced some distress over the upcoming test because of how poorly they'd done in the past few quizzes, but Navarre reassured them and said it wouldn't be too difficult. With a smile and a wave, he left the group and continued down the hallway to the main entrance/exit area.
As he walked down the first flight of stairs and then the next, he gave himself a bit of a congratulations. Another fun day of a perfect act. It was true, nothing had gone off that day and it was one of the few days when even he could not find fault with his performance. When he reached the bottom, he noticed that no one was there to pick him up yet. He watched as the others were picked up with smiles from their loving parents, and he couldn't help but get a bit depressed. Most teens responded with 'Whatever' and shirked off the caring words of their guardians, but they didn't know what they had. He'd willingly sacrifice his life to gain a life similar to theirs. Navarre sighed, as he noticed a girl behind him, who'd apparently been there for a while. It seemed she had been trying to work up the courage to say something, and finally found it. "Hey Navarre, could you help me study for the history exam later?" she spoke shyly, to which Navarre responded by staring at the ground nervously. "Um, yeah, sure." At that moment, his ride drove up, and he entered the vehicle.
Alias: Knight of Two, ‘Knight of Tempests’, ‘Siege’, ‘Siege the Tempest’.
Age: 17
Birthday: July 27
Occupation: Knight of Two, Student
Race: Britannian
Appearance: Standing at a rather average five feet, eleven inches, Navarre is about the average height for a Britannian his age. Likewise, he is about the average weight, if not a bit under it, weighing in at 145 pounds. While he may be rather unimpressive by appearance, he has tremendous leg strength and thusly is very fast, lithe, athletic, and capable of dealing extremely strong kicks. His hair color is a forest green color, while his eyes display a similar, yet lighter shade of the same green. Scarborough’s skin is pale, similar to many of his fellow Britannians, and even though he’s been through many battles, is skin shows no sign of wear and tear or roughness at all. Generally speaking, his eyes and face show signs of sorrow, as if he’d seen countless atrocities. At this point, his appearance varies upon who he is at the time, the Knight of Two or a Britannian student.
As a student, he spikes his hair towards the front, making one larger spike that hangs out in front of his face, and curves left towards his eye. Another, smaller spike, curving around the first, but not going as far, lands on his forehead. While the prior section may have seemed planned, the rest of his hair is not. The rest of it is simply left to go where it wants, leaving it with an unkempt and messy look. His hair is pretty long, but it elevates as opposed to falling down towards his neck. He wears the typical Ashford Academy uniform, the black blazer with gold markings and the black pants. The collar tends to be a bit tight for his taste, so he often unbuttons it, getting him in a bit of trouble here and there. When out of school, he generally wears the white undershirt and the black pants from the school uniform. Occasionally, and in fact very rarely, he will carry a small dagger with him at school, but such an occasion is very rare.
When serving as the Knight of Two, or rather, ‘Siege’ he also wears the typical Knight of the Round outfit, with a few modifications. Navarre wears the same top as the rest, an elegant, white, long-sleeved shirt, buttoned near the ribs and embroidered with gold, with a black undershirt and an elaborate gold symbol that is shown by the opening of the white top. The long cap extension usually hangs down, but in his case, it extends more outward and is a bit shorter, giving him more room to kick and run. His black gloves are longer, reaching to about his elbow, and covering his white sleeves. He carries a pistol, a short sword, and a few daggers with him at all times. The black boots run up to his ankles, just like the other members of the Round. The black undershirt that usually runs up the neck is instead lower, as per his hatred of high collars. Keeping his identity a secret, he wears a white mask, depicting the masks of tragedy and comedy. The left is comedy and the right is tragedy, but the mask has no separation, and is very simple (Take half of these www.acclaimimages.com/_gallery/_images_n300/0071-0904-3008-0919_comedy_and_tragedy_masks.jpg). It covers his entire face, and is held on tightly from the back, but the bands are hidden by his hair. During some occasions, the Knights wear a larger cape over their entire outfit, with varying colors; Navarre’s is red with gold symbols. The entirety of Siege’s hair is put up into spikes, all of which lean to the right and upwards at an angle. A few spikes fall forward onto his mask, while two long bangs extend past his cheek, just in front of his ears on either side of his face. ( i32.photobucket.com/albums/d38/YellowXXVII/Syncface.jpg Hairstyle, color, Knight Version)
Knightmare Frame Pelleas: Based off the typical frame, the Sutherland, the Pelleas is a weapon unlike any other. Aesthetically, the color scheme of purple-black has been changed to a teal and green version, and it has been made into a taller 20 foot version. The jutting cockpit as been made smaller, so that it is no longer so greatly apparent, and the same goes for the back. Instead, on the front, juts out a half circle of armor plating, made for the purpose of protecting the cockpit. The face largely resembles a human one, having large green eyes and moving the factsphere sensor to the shoulders has given it a more human look. It still has the long 'ears' of the Sutherland, in fact his are extended, and those along with the rest of the head are evenly divided down the middle, into a teal half and a green half. Attached to the wrists of each arm are claws, which can fold up and rest on the forearm to allow use of firearms or swords, or can extend and cover his hands to be used as a weapon. The claws are very long, measuring out to four feet each. Most power is pumped into the legs, which are very powerful, containing strong joints and great force. He posses jumping and speed that are unmatched by any other frame. He has four landspinners, two on each foot on either side of the ankle. His factsphere sensors are on his shoulders, which have a curved plate of armor on them. His feet are flat, and have small propulsion boosters on the bottom, making for some quick movements.
Knightmare Equipment:
Slash Harken x1 (fired from chest)
Factsphere sensors x2 (shoulders)
Detachable Landspinners x4
Short Swords x2
Energy Daggers x6 (waist)
Miniturrets x3 (head, each wrist)
Machine Gun x1
Small Energy Shields x2 (each forearm)
History: Gerard Scarborough was a recently employed, inexperienced drone of a Britannian sakuradite provider, a company that he had joined as an errand boy. Because he was not nobility (mostly, anyway), he could not land a high paying job at the snap of his fingers, nor did he have any great sum of money to start out with. It was when he was given the low-paying job that he met Navarre’s mother, Anna. She was a young, ravishing Britannian youth, who was unemployed at the time. After months of outings, the two finally realized their feelings and fell in love, and were married a few months after their initial meeting. Even with Anna taking whatever jobs available that required little to no skill, the two’s inability to pay the rent for their small apartment infused Gerard with the passion and boost he needed, and eventually promotions came to him, and the money followed. After 12 years, he finally reached the point of being a representative to a small island under Britannian rule that was known to have absolutely zero sakuradite in it. At any rate, Gerard managed to secure mining rights, and sure enough, they struck sakuradite. While not an extraordinary or particularly great amount, it was a moderate quantity and of decent quality, and for little money, it turned out to be a great deal for the company.
Needless to say, everyone employed or involved with the situation were given promotions and raises, Gerard being one of the people that benefited the most, as he was the man that suggested mining the island in the first place. Gaining a grand sum of money via the ten percent commission, the Scarboroughs had shot themselves into wealth and the high life in little time. Immediately they bought a new home, and Gerard splurged on things like cars, and any other pointless item to show his wealth. Eventually, Anna became pregnant and gave birth to Navarre at the age of 28, while his father was thirty years old and still going up in the buisiness world. While the birth of her first and ultimately only child should have been a happy occasion, a sneaking feeling that Anna had for a while had begun to manifest. Her husband had become tied up in work, and the spark of their marriage had begun to fade. Her husband could care less about her, and even though Gerard wouldn’t deny any of her material requests, she had begun to long for the old times.
Pushing such feelings aside, she decided that it would be unhealthy for her son to see her in a constant state of unhappiness; she pushed aside her own feelings and put on a happy facade for her son. Growing up, she was the only person there for him, and obviously, he held onto her as tight as he could. She spent nearly all her time with him, and instilled in him the morals and manners that she believed were right. She taught him humility, gratefulness, compassion, and grace, all these things despite his financial standing. In fact, she even home schooled him the first few years, as the child was very adverse to the idea of leaving his mother, and she felt same way. Still, she’d taught him that education was the path to success, and so he eventually began his elementary education. While charming and friendly at school, he frequently blew off opportunities to be with his friends for quiet evenings at home with his mother. While he had an overly strong bond with his mother, he had no such thing with his father. On rare occasions, when his father (now CEO and president of the company) would visit, Navarre would need help from his mother in identifying the man.
As such, from an early age, Navarre’s views on marriage and love were skewed and off base, and while his mother tried to correct them, he still remained confused on the matters, even up to the present time. Whenever he would inquire about his father, Anna’s cheerful expression turned into sorrowful one, and the young Scarborough followed suit. Further confusing him was how a man’s name could bring her instant sadness, and yet she would make excuses for him, smile when he was around, do whatever he liked, and show him great affection. Such unrequited love seemed to be both a beautiful and an ugly thing, but in either sense, it left Navarre saddened and puzzled. He made it his life goal to make her happy, and so he did. High marks in school made her smile, and so he studied hard; spending time with her did the same, and so he did. The list goes on, but the child’s attempts at giving her happiness could not stand against the loss of a lover, at least in her eyes.
One day, when Navarre was about 13 years old, his father came home early. He claimed that nothing would make his son more proud (or bolster his company’s reputation) than if his own son joined the military. His mother became extremely upset, stood, and claimed that the man sitting before her was nothing more than a shadow of the man she had married, and that she would not send her son to go die for nothing. His father stood and harshly slapped her across her face, claiming that she had no right to defy him. Only able to clench his fists and watch, Navarre obeyed his father and followed him into a room to speak ‘man to man’, that way his mother would be out of harm's way. His father asked him if he truly wanted to make his mother happy, to which Navarre responded in the affirmative. Gerard went onto explain that by joining the military, he could give the company a great selling point to the government, which would then grant his father more government money and he would be able to hire more employees, therefore he could be home with Anna more often, which would make her a great deal happier. Seeing a chance to make his father proud and his mother happy, the young and impulsive Navarre agreed with his father, and promised to join the military.
Packing his bags in the morning, his mother held to his arm and begged him not to leave, weeping as he pulled away. He told her it was for her sake and for his father too, and for the safety of Britannia. As he walked slowly down the broad staircase, he was surprise to see his father waiting there. He bid his son ado as he was driven off to the recruitment center, and his mother could only weep from the window as she watched her son slip away from her. The long drive was nerve-racking to say the least, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d made the right choice at that point. If he failed to pass then his father would be disgraced, though his mother might be happy to see him return safe and sound. Being in the top physical shape he was at that point, he vowed to himself that he would make his mother happy and his father proud, even if it meant killing himself in battle. As long as she was happy, he would do anything; even go against his own beliefs. The training was difficult, even as a new recruit and son of a rich man, the exercises were grueling. Navarre seemed to struggle in particular with any of the activities that required great amounts of upper body strength, but excelled in anything having to do with the lower body or running. While he was incapable of lifting anything close to his body weight, he did show great amounts of stamina and the highest level of speed among the recruits at that time. His swordsmanship was average, but it should be noted that the shorter his blade, the better he did. His marksmanship was not overly poor, but definitely not one of his stronger points. While not necessarily a bad aim, he simply preferred close range combat, and although not having a specific style, he proved to be an adept close range combatant. His stealth and Knightmare piloting scores on the simulator were also high, and he finished the first year of training at the very top of the new recruits.
As such, he didn’t have to deal with as many years of grunt work, but the experience was still necessary. Doing anything from guarding warehouses to guarding slightly important ambassadors, for someone as impatient as Navarre, it was hell. Not only did nothing happen, he wasn’t doing anything to protect Britannia. Furthermore, the army had supplied him with enough work to keep him from dropping by to see his mother, although he called her frequently. Each time they conversed, she seemed to grow more and more saddened, and it was worrying him. Perhaps if he moved up, his father could advertise a bit better and stay home a bit longer. Soon enough, his time came. He was on assignment as the outer guard of the building where an ambassador for the Chinese Federation. Around midnight, the left guard stopped responding to radio contact, and being a part of the front guard, Navarre grew suspicious. He sent the man with him to go check on them, while he went to see how the ambassador was doing. He climbed the stairs rapidly, and avoiding the injured bodies of his allies, he kicked down the door and reaching the room to see a man in black, pointing a Britannian pistol at a terrified ambassador. The assassin quickly turned his gun toward the intruder, and told him to back off. Slowly slipping his hand to grab the dagger at his waist, he leaped quickly to the side and threw his dagger, accurately hitting the man in the shoulder of his gun arm, causing him to drop it. As the assassin desperately made a move for his gun, Navarre shot him around the hip area. Dashing over to the man, he stepped forcefully on his chest, keeping him from moving to the gun. Pressing on the communicator on his left ear, he called his teammates up, and they made the arrest. Meanwhile, the man explained to him that the 'ambassador' was in fact planning to gain Britannian trust and create an opening to strike. He claimed he was on the side of justice, but Navarre quickly disagreed, stating that justice was not something that could be decided by everyday men.
He was thanked wholeheartedly by the ambassador, but was initially reprimanded for his actions. Though bold and lifesaving, they were rash and against orders, as the interior guard should have been able to take care of the situation. It turned out the man was a high ranking Britannian soldier, and that was why he was able to defeat the guards so easily. As a reward, Navarre was promoted, and the story was played on the news for quite a few days. Much to his father’s joy, the sales of his company skyrocketed, and Navarre became sure that such a thing would allow his father to return home and guarantee his mother’s happiness. Another perk that came with it was a bit of celebrity status in the military as well as off-duty, and although he wasn’t one for attention, Scarborough couldn’t help but enjoy a bit of the fame and fortune. Still, as with all things, it wore off soon. Hope began to show itself as his mother began to send him letters saying that she was much happier, and that Gerard was staying home more. It brought a spring to his step, and the fact that his promotion had given him the privilege of piloting Knightmare frames. While struggling at first in the more advanced simulators, he soon began to get a hold of it, but still was not very capable of using firearms from any sort of long distance, even in a Knightmare frame. As such, he was given a Sutherland, a typical starting unit. He favored the use of the Jousting Lance, and the Slash Harkens for mid range combat, and he proved himself a formidable unit. An additional perk to his valiant performance was a free week of paid absence, which he used to return home.
When he reached his home, he was embraced by his mother and she led him into the home to talk of his adventures in the military. Eventually, he brought up his father and the letters that his mother sent him, which she told him she didn’t recall writing. Surprised, he decided to go to his father’s workplace to get some answers. When he inquired about it, his father admitted it immediately. Gerard said it was necessary to keep Navarre motivated, so that he would continue on in the military and win his father’s company more sympathy and more money. Enraged, he was driven back home and told his mother all about it. Navarre figured she would be upset, but it was the opposite. She said that his father was simply looking after him, and that he was doing what was for the best. He couldn’t believe her; the man had betrayed and lied to them both and yet, she still loved him. His mother ended their chat saying that she wished she could go back to the old days, when the three of them would spend all day together. She told him that money was not the only thing, and made him promise to remember that. Somehow, he too could not amass a hatred for his father. Soon his time at home came to an end, and he returned to the military.
After numerous battles in the EU and Chinese Federation, Navarre had proven himself a capable pilot and reliable unit on the battlefield. In fact, he’d earned himself the right to customize his Knightmare frame a bit, choosing to drop the guns for two smaller swords, and improving the joints in the legs for optimum speed and agility. While the battles in the EU were primarily spearheaded by Schneizel himself, there were a few where the 2nd Prince could not be present, and those battles were significantly tougher. It was in one of those battles, an assault on a Britannian base in the Caspian Sea where Navarre really showed his worth. While the attack was a surprise, Britannia managed to mobilize quickly to defend itself. However, the EU had already struck a Knightmare hangar, significantly reducing the firepower of its opposition. Under the command of the general, Navarre was told to take a small strike force and attack their flagship, a large boat which was only a mile away from the base. Taking four other units, the Knightmares were dropped off via airplane. An unexpected a blow, but effective as they managed to destroy various unmanned Knightmare units, planes, jets and numerous other objects of war before Knightmare were mobilized to repel the strike force and fight on the large battleship. Three of the Britannian units were taken out, leaving simply Navarre and one other. Decimating the remaining forces in the hangar, Navarre was hit by armor piercing rounds from one of the circling aircrafts. Refusing to eject, he crashed his Knightmare into the elevated deck of the ship, creating an opening. He jumped out of his unit and dashed in, taking out the two dazed guards at the front. His remaining teammate soon accompanied him, and they finally found their way to the area where the EU’s general was giving orders, guarded by five or so men. When both parties opened fire, Navarre’s partner was killed and Scarborough was hit in the shoulder. Navarre shot the two remaining guards, but took another hit on his hip. Limping forth, he held his dagger to the General’s throat. Forcibly, he gave the order to retreat and both the general and Navarre were safely taken into Britannian custody.
After his heroic effort and during his recuperation, he asked that in all reports or press releases that his name be released as Siege, and that Navarre would receive credit as a key but wounded soldier in the battle. In that way, he wouldn’t have to deal with the hell of celebrity status, and his father would still get his wish. As Navarre was owed a small debt from Britannia, they honored his wishes. Soon enough, the name Siege began to spread within the military, and with the weather conditions of the fight, the title stretched to ‘Siege the Tempest’, as he became quite the fabled warrior around the military. Along with the fame and a bit of fortune, he gained a bit of leeway in customizing a personal Knightmare frame. He had a Sutherland modified so that more power was being run to the legs portion, and that the joints in the legs were particularly strong. Afterward, he decided to return home to his parents, spurred by a phone call from his mother. She’d missed him, and he didn’t want to torture her; especially since she might have received reports about his injuries. Using his favor with the Britannian higher ups as quickly as possible, he requested a reprieve and was given it as such. Not only that, he would be paid in full. Needless to say, he had begun to enjoy all the perks and the fame of it, and he would be more than happy to share his experiences with her, and no doubt she’d be in a happy mood. After all, his success meant his father’s, and that meant more time for his mother. It felt good to know that his success had a direct correlation to his mother’s happiness, and that way he could put all of his efforts into military success, without even a shadow of a doubt.
As per the usual, he was showered by hugs and doting words from his mother, but this time felt different. Usually he enjoyed that kind of thing, signs of affection and representations that showed him he was loved and needed. This time if felt as if he had been doing more harm than good, like his intentions were actually being realized in the opposite way. Was he hurting her more than he was helping? Navarre was the only thing she had left, the only person that seemed to ratify her continued existence. But now that Siege had come into play, he couldn't just retire and return to ordinary family life, or at least, what was ordinary for them. And that thought swirled upon another, and his mind became clouded with doubts as he walked in to sit and have a nice nostalgic chat with her. The conversation whirled about for a little bit, and soon enough the subject went onto how different Navarre was from any kid his age. At that point, he had no friends, he never went out with any girls, did homework, had angst, or did anything else similar to the norm. Maybe he'd go down in the history books as a great pilot and soldier, but when he got old and looked back, would he really have enjoyed his life? In the end, Navarre would miss out on all the things that stay with someone their entire life. That was the beginning of his longing for a normal life.
Soon enough, he parted ways with his mother and successfully avoided any encounter with his father. What he'd done before was unforgivable, and if he ever did a similar act he wouldn't escape unscathed. The funny thing was, he thought that enough, but he never could imagine himself doing anything. In that way, Navarre was truly weak-minded and cowardly. He was being manipulated; his mother was being thrown deeper and deeper into a depression-like state, and for what? Business, money, power, status, they were truly the source of all evil. He swore it as a child, and again he swore with all his heart that he would never judge based on those things, take pride in them, or make them his goals. His return to the EU battlefront was of much help, and Siege yet again made many a mark on the battles and on his opponents. His great contributions on the front lines of the war with the EU over a few years had elevated him to a point where whispers of a huge promotion were not uncommon. While he denied any sort of correlation between his performance and a spot on the Knights of the Round, but even doubters were mystified as soon as they saw what he could do with a Knightmare. Not only was he capable, his machine was only slightly altered in comparison to the others, and that’s what made him even more impressive. Soon the suspicions came to fruition, and he was invited to meet the emperor in Pendragon. Entering a large and lavish building, he stared in awe at the menacing figure that was Emperor Charles zi Britannia. He quickly took a knee and stated how honored and unworthy he was, which was met with a hearty chuckle. Commanded to walk forward and kneel, he did so, and was appointed Knight of Eleven of Britannia. Trying to hold in some sort of a stupid grin, he walked out and proceeded to return to base. He was congratulated all around, and he could feel a sort of aura of superiority. Back in his quarters, he called his mother to reassure that he was fine, but hide his promotion. Maintaining that Siege and Navarre were two different people was difficult, and it required lying to the person he loved the most. Still, only the highest ranking generals and special officers knew of his double life, and he generally walked around as Siege, dawning a theater mask of tragedy and comedy and carrying himself with pride.
However, his mother answered in a distressed tone of voice. She seemed to be holding back tears, but was not capable of doing so. She told him that when she went to visit her husband at his office, he was with another woman. Navarre punched the desk he was leaning on with all his might, making a loud crashing sound. He exclaimed loudly that he was going home, and she told him not too. She explained that she’d already forgiven him, he had no need to be enraged, and he should stay to protect Britannia. Begrudgingly, he gave in and decided to stay. After a month or so, she called again, and told Navarre about how happy she was, and how she was spending a lot of time with Mr. Scarborough now. Needless to say, the Knight was skeptical, but overjoyed. Finally, he’d brought happiness to his mother’s tortured life. He continued his work with greater passion, now happy his primary goal was met and he was then capable of focusing solely on his battle capabilities. In this short time he improved vastly, and his true abilities as a pilot and soldier were becoming blatantly apparent. It had come to the point where his abilities were undisputed, and it was obvious that he was not worthy of the number Eleven, but something greater. Generals began vying for his participation in their battles, as he was easily more valuable as a single unit that entire battalions. His fame preceded him wherever he went, and soldiers would let out sighs of relief when he was sent into the battle. He made generals look good, make allies jobs easier, and make the enemies look, well, dead. He showed no remorse, and spared nothing if it would further elevate his reputation. He would become the greatest Knight of Britannia, and shine brightly for Britannia, for his mother, and more than ever, for himself. Eventually, Britannia began the conquest of the Middle-East, soon to be known as Area 18. He put down rebellions and slaughtered guerrillas almost single-handedly, and his presence was a decisive factor in many key battles. Armed with his new and speedy Knightmare frame, the Pelleas, he was near unstoppable. Not only were his comrades taking notice, the higher ups were too. Soon enough, he was promoted a full nine levels to the Knight of Two, as a result of his skill, obedience, and dedication to Britannia. His return home was not so pleasant, however.
When he came home, there was no warm embrace, only silence. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his father, and when inquired about his mother’s location, he said that he turned her into the police for the possession of the illegal drug, refrain. It all made sense, the sudden change in emotions and delusions of happiness had some reasoning behind them. Her sentence was set to last 20 years, but Navarre went before the Emperor and pleaded whole-heartedly. He swore a lifetime of servitude to Britannia and at half pay as well, and in return, his mother’s sentence would be cut as well. The request was denied, but Navarre thought of another way. Becoming the Knight of One meant he would have more say, more power in the eyes of the Emperor. He knew then what he had to do, even if the notion was rash, stupid, and even suicidal to even consider. To become Knight of One, he had to usurp the current Knight in a display of power, and so he aimed to challenge Bismarck Waldstein, Knight of One.
Bismarck was, of course, in Pendragon. Navarre had never had an encounter with the man, he'd only seen him sparingly and only heard rumors. He knew that he piloted the Galahad, and wielded the giant sword Excalibur. Just that thought on the flight over there made him smirk. Swinging around a bigass sword did indeed cause a lot of damage, but only to those slow enough to be hit by it. Not only that, having large amounts of brute strength often gave the illusion of ability and skill where none was present. Even though that was often the case, he couldn't just assume that it was that way for Bismarck. No, it would be foolhardy to go in there underestimating the supposed...no, the greatest knight in all of Britannia. Which brought up the question, was the Pelleas a match for the Galahad? While Navarre had no doubts about his piloting ability, the Pelleas had been undergoing major and frequent mechanical changes, and he'd yet to adjust to them properly. Just recently, he'd decided to drop a weapon he was proficient with, the jousting lance. His Pelleas came equipped with energy daggers, two short blades, two slash harkens, a small assault rifle, and detachable land spinners. The concept of detachable land spinners was something pioneered by Navarre himself, allowing for quickness as opposed to speed.
Arriving at Pendragon, he arranged a meeting with Bismarck, feigning the subject to be a matter of national security. If he knew one thing about Bismarck, it's that he promoted the use of violence as a last resort. When he met with Bismarck, Navarre explained his intentions. The Knight of One laid out his answer bluntly, a cold no. The intensity in Navarre's voice increased, and he explained that he HAD to fight Bismarck, no matter what. Still, nothing got through to the man, who ironically seemed to be some sort of a pacifist. Finally, Navarre managed to trigger the man's inner need to fight. "I didn't think the Knight of One to be a coward. Pathetic." Those words, spoken cynically and condescendingly, forced Bismarck out of his shell. "Arrogant pups like yourself must be taught a lesson in etiquette." He spoke, and the two of them agreed that they would meet in a dry wasteland outside of Pendragon, a large area with nothing around for miles.
Given a three day reprieve, the clash between the two greatest Knights in all of Britannia was set, and the Galahad and the Pelleas stood face to face. "I'll give you another chance to run with your tail in between your legs. There's no shame in admitting defeat." Navarre scoffed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Nice try, but you won't be getting off that easily. I'll show you how unworthy you are!" Navarre retorted, and with it's great leg strength, the Pelleas pushed itself forward and high into the air, bringing a strong roundhouse kick down with it. "Insolent worm!" Bismarck shouted, as Excalibur was unsheathed and used to parry the kick quite easily. Gathering, the Pelleas pushed off of the sword, moving away just as Bismarck prepared his counter slash. Navarre the landspinners to dash forward, the Knight of One used a high, broad slash to halt his advance, but the Pelleas crouched under and pulled a short sword to make the first hit. Not having any of that, the Galahad used an awkward but firm kick to launch the Pelleas away. "Such tricks won't have any effect on me." He spoke sarcastically, trying to rile up the opposing Knight. "Tch, you overestimate yourself."
By that time his Knightmare had gathered itself, only sustaining minor damage from the kick that was meant more to create separation than to cause any sort of harm. Round one was a draw, so let's kick it into a higher gear this time, Pelleas..." His speed was his biggest advantage, and although launching himself into the air gave him more power, but it certainly gave the slow as a snail Bismarck time to plant himself for a block and counter. It seemed to him that the amount of force he'd gained was not equivalent to the amount of time the Knight of One had to prepare. This time, there would be no chance to set up, no time to block. Once again applying the landspinners, he made another mad dash towards his opponent. Said enemy scoffed and immediately stabbed forward with Excalibur. "Gotcha." The Pelleas spun off where the blade would have hit him, getting him right up close to a surprised Bismarck. "Childish." Waldstein spoke as he brought his powerful blade back to slice Navarre. The Pelleas' hands grabbed onto the Galahad's shoulders and pushed up, launching the light frame into the air, just enough to dodge the broad swipe. Coming back down fast with an axe kick, the blow hit the Galahad's shoulder as it moved away to avoid having the more important head taken out. Point Siege.
Wheeling away, Bismarck spoke again. "Not half bad. But I'm still not even trying." Navarre smirked and responded tauntingly. "Really now? It seemed to me you couldn't keep up." The elder Knight decided it was high time he take to the offensive side and even up the score. As the Pelleas was regathering itself from its previous strike, the Galahad took the opportunity to rush forward and bring a hard slash down towards Navarre. Having no time to react, he raised the clawed hand of the Pelleas to block the blow, but to no avail. For a while the claw scratched against the sword, but proved no match as the tips shattered. Navarre pulled away quickly enough to avoid having his whole hand shattered, but he'd lost the primary offense of his right hand. Dammit. Point Bismarck.
Wasting no time, he planted his recently injured arm into the ground and launched a powerful kick backwards at Bismarck, who blocked it with his sword but was blown back a bit. Even then, he couldn't let the pace of the fight slow down, not even a little bit. He pulled an energy dagger, one of his specialties, from his waist and threw them at Bismarck, who easily deflected them with his blade. But as soon as he moved his sword to check where his opponent was, he found him to be right there. Navarre thrusted his clawed left hand forward, and it successfully hit the hip joint of Bismarck's Knightmare, a seemingly glancing blow. He followed it up with the short sword in his injured right hand, slashing forward at the bastard. It was deflected once more, and Waldstein quickly knocked the pesky Pelleas away with the blunt side of his blade. Landing on his back, Navarre quickly pulled himself back up and grinned. Another point for me.
"Are you so content with such a mild blow? Pathetic." Bismarck charged forward, this time bringing his sword diagonally towards the Pelleas. Navarre was prepared for such a huge swing, and he quickly kicked the elbow joint of his swinging arm, causing the blade to fly out of the hands of it's wielder and land a few meters away. "What?" Perfect. Siege had him right where he wanted him, and he wasn't getting away with out a scratch. Navarre swiped with his short sword but missed as Waldstein dashed for his blade. "Coward! Are you nothing without your blade?" Siege threw a dagger at the Galahad, hitting it in the same hip as before, causing him to take a knee, standing just a little ways away from Excalibur. Seeing a golden chance, Navarre rashly ran after the wounded Bismarck, but as soon as he was close enough, the Galahad's fist met with the head of the Pelleas, knocking the mech back onto his rear. "Got too excited, whelp." Bismarck took the chance to pick up his sword and stood ready.
The Knight of Two stood again, pissed that he had been so impatient, but content with his overall performance. Three all. Waldstein promptly pulled the dagger from his hip, and stood defensively. Looks like it's my go again. Propelling himself forward, he knew exactly where he was going to hit his opponent from before it even started. With a short sword in his right and claw on his left, he used a flurry of stabs and thrusts aimed at One's upper body. Masterfully and gracefully, Bismarck dodged all of them, but the constant pressure was too much for him to put up a decent counterattack. Getting sick of dodging, he gave the Pelleas a forearm shot to the head, but Navarre dug his feet in and kept his his very light frame from being knocked away. Now he ducked down and stabbed his claw into Bismarck's hip, the same he'd targeted before. "Oh, what a tactician. Hitting my hip to weaken my stance."
Navarre jumped back in time to avoid the retaliation slash, and now his plan was into motion. He leaped into the air again, taking of higher than before. "This again? A little extra height will do you no good." Siege came forward with a roundhouse kick, which hit hard against Excalibur, shattering a bit of his foot. "How fragile." But as he spoke, the short sword came down with great force, and although less than the kick, it did its job. The sword shattered, to which Bismarck let out a condescending laugh, but the hip of his unit gave out as Navarre landed, leaving the prime opportunity for the finishing blow. "And now it's over!" He exclaimed excitedly, bringing his clawed arm towards the cockpit of a seemingly too shocked to move Bismarck. "That it is..." The Knight of One spoke, and with his right arm only he brought the Excalibur diagonally, cutting part of the Pelleas' chest and severing the right arm, as well as revealing a bloodied Siege through an uncovered portion of the cockpit. An explosion occurred, and Bismarck stood slowly and turned his back, sheathing Excalibur.
"Damn you..." Navarre cursed, barely managing to get the Pelleas up. "So you can move?" But before he could get an answer the Pelleas was upon him, and its claw cut through the weaker joint of the Galahad's left arm. "I have to win, I must become the Knight of One. I have a purpose, someone who needs me! I won't lose to an egotistical bastard like you!" He gasped, blood trickling down his face and pouring profusely from his arm. "I too have a purpose. I failed her, Lady Marianne...and for that, I will remain the strongest Knight of Britannia and pay my debt to my country..." Navarre's unit jumped back and threw a few daggers, which were blocked easily. With a quick step, the decisive slash cut the Pelleas in two at the waist, forcing Siege to eject. "Don't let it end here..." He ejected quickly enough to evade the explosion, but the propulsion system had been damaged and it crashed into a tree at its base.
Navarre emerged, dizzy and barely able to see. "Now do you see? You're eons away from defeating me. Come back when your bite matches your bark, whelp." Siege panted, not able to speak to his own defense. 5-3. Game, set, match... Was all he could think. He'd been rash, and now he was very much in shock that he had been bested for the first time. He limped back to civilization to be treated for his injuries. Britannian medical capabilities were amazing, but they hadn't yet found a way to heal a man's pride. Perhaps worst of all was that the Pelleas was now completely destroyed, and it would take quite a long time to be rebuilt. Not only did he not become Knight of One, he'd come no closer; in fact, farther, as he could not bolster his reputation without his Knightmare. For weeks on weeks he couldn't sleep, unable to live down the shame.
But there was an opportunity within that failure, and he took it for the best and enrolled in Ashford Academy in Japan, in hopes of living his dream of being just a regular kid. He wears two mask now: Siege, fighting for Britannia and his mother, and Navarre, the everyday student. He is both and he is neither, and he struggles to find himself within his own deceptions. He still strives to be Knight of One, free his mother, and find himself among the endless sea of masks.
Personality:[/u] Navarre's personality is difficult to describe, because he seems to change it seamlessly with his act. Generally speaking, when people put on an act, they know what they are returning to, what their normal persona is. They simply act or lie for a while and then go back to being themselves, but the situation is very different for the Knight of Two. Somewhere along the road, he seemed to have lost who he was originally. From a very young age he had to put on a mask, a guise of happiness, even though he was feeling quite the opposite. Even as his parents argued and fought, as his mother became more and more depressed, he had to learn very quickly how to maintain his mask. At that point he still had his very own persona, but with the introduction of Siege, all that would fade. He had to be arrogant, bold, fearless, jaded, and heartless to get by, because the big softy he used to be wasn't going to cut it in the higher ranks of the military, and especially not amongst the Knights of the Round. At home he always had to be happy, and when at war he had to be cruel and cold, so as one might imagine, the young boy soon lost his way, and who he was. Becoming a student should have allowed him to be himself, but he'd already lost who he was a while ago, and so being a student just turned into another act. Although, the mask of the student is his favorite, much preferred to Siege.
Such an identity crisis would usually be a pretty big deal, but yet again, this wasn't a normal case. Because his mother was imprisoned, his father was himself, and the fact that no one knew him as both Siege and Navarre, he hasn't needed to be himself in quite a long time. Which is not to say he doesn't wish that someone knew of him in both ways, someone he could trust, and be completely honest to. Having no way to actively search for such a person without seeming weird or drawing attention, he has resigned himself to waiting for such a person to find him, not the other way around. Perhaps through that person, he could finally be himself once again, and not just be a man with a million masks. It's important to establish that finding himself, however cliche, is one of his primary goals in life. While it isn't his reason for living, it is a goal to which he can actively chase, and in that way keep from becoming bored. The only problem is, there is not a single person that can identify the two, so to reach that goal, he must first find that person, or people even.
As a student, Navarre tries to be as conformist as possible. He'll pick up on the flow and go with it, because that is quite obviously the choice for someone who's trying not to be noticed. Of course, being so extremely unnoticeable can sometimes be more attention grabbing than one might think. As such, he tries to maintain a bright and cheery disposition, giving off the impression of a teen that's just happy to be in high school. He likes to lend a hand, help where he can, and is always up for the simple and ordinary things, like just hanging around people. He'll raise his hand every now and again in class, and stays at about a constantly borderline A to A- range in his classes. Navarre will generally be found with a smile on his face, and a sort of carefree attitude. He likes to give advice or be helpful in any sort of way, and also seems to enjoy listening to others much more than speaking himself. For that reason, some students like to confide in him and go to him just to be heard. He'll give out some advice when necessary, but any sort of a comment will be very much like a fortune cookie. It'll be short and concise, if not just a bit cryptic. He likes to comment and speculate on politics, and is very curious as to the motives of their leaders. Still, like a good boy, his answers are always for Britannia.
Socially, he can generally be found with a group of three or four others, if not less. Although not a fan of loud things or people, he'll usually dismiss them with a joke of some sort, or a small comment that can usually prod them to be a bit less obnoxious. When invited to parties or other such occasions he prefers to get in a small group of friends and simply chat or joke around, but if asked to dance, he couldn't refuse. The Knight of Two is a particularly good dancer, being light on his feet and as graceful as they come. He isn't great with melodies or beats, and especially not capable of moving to them, he does know the waltzes and the various other fine dances. One cannot speak of high school without mentioning the first steps and awkward ventures into the realm of the opposite sex, something Navarre is not particularly good at it. While he doesn't do the typical 'freeze up, sweat, and run' deal, in fact, he acts pretty normally. When faced with asking a girl to dance or go out, he generally refuses politely. Although hidden by the cool and bright exterior, he actually becomes quite nervous when alone with a girl or a group of them. When in a such a situation, he usually tries to casually slip away with some bogus excuse. However, he does seem to be popular amongst the opposite gender, and although he hasn't gone on a date or anything of the sort yet, he wouldn't refuse any invitations, purely out of embarrassment.
His act is nearly perfect, but sometimes he rubs off as overly inquisitive, as a result of his bit of paranoia. Navarre's default is to be suspicious of those around him, at least until he can get a read on them. Anyone could find him out, and all it takes is one loudmouth to ruin his dreams of happiness and a normal life. While this is an irregularity in his masquerade, he's become very good at apologizing for being so nosy, and will shift the topic to a more comfortable one. Despite the fact that he comes from a wealthy 'family', he doesn't look down on those less fortunate than him, and he is extremely humble in all things. No matter what he does, when praised, he'll smile and thank the person, but note that he was lucky. At the same time, he is quick to praise others, usually stating that person is superior to him in that aspect. He likes to feel needed, like most human beings do, and does his absolute best to be there for everyone as much as he can be. If there's one thing he absolutely fears, it's not being there. If anyone ever asked him why he wasn't there for them, he simply couldn't contain his depression. This fear in particular stems from the loss of his mother, which he deems his fault, and swears to never be missing when the people he cares for need him.
If at all involved with a situation that fails, the first person Navarre blames is himself. Even if the blunder is quite obviously not his own, his personal mantra is that in order for the world to progress or change, one must first look at himself. One cannot hope to make a difference in the world or in others if he cannot even make a change in himself. Although he possesses no such delusions of grandeur, it's something he believes in very strongly. With that saying close to his heart, it can be deduced that Navarre is his most persistent critic, and more often than not, he criticizes himself to a point of low self-esteem. Not to say that he is not confident, he simply loses said confidence very quickly. Sometimes that lack of self-esteem leeks through a mask, and he'll occasionally voice his doubt in his own abilities, no matter how meaningless the task. Often times he can seem overprotective, but that too comes out very rarely, and he's yet to find anyone that he cares enough for to do that. He is loyal to his friends, and tries to take any sort of an opportunity to do normal things with them. The Knight of Two is also pretty good at picking up subtle hints about a person's tone of voice and facial features, and uses that to figure people out, but more frequently in a more social way. Other than that, he's pretty rash and narrow-sighted, not very good at thinking ahead or seeing all the options, if he gets on the right track he is decently intelligent.
Navarre also participates in sports, and excels in track and field. He's actually become quite the star, despite the repercussions it could have on his ability to hide his identity. He does all the races, distance, relay, and sprints, and is the very best at all of them. While it maybe counter-intuitive to be so blatantly good at something, it's simply one of those things that he likes to do. He likes to be praised by coaches and peers, not to mention it could help him out later. Currently, since his Knightmare was wrecked by Bismarck, Navarre has been unable to participate very much in the actions of the military. That said, he keeps perfect attendance in his classes, but when his Knightmare is remade, such a task would become more difficult. Becoming a vital part of the sports team and paying attention to practices more than classes later on could possibly get him out of a whole lot of trouble. While he's usually not very good at thinking ahead, this was one time where he managed it.
When he dawns his mask and becomes Siege, some things change. First off, he becomes a very typical Britannian: arrogant and superior. Any lack of self-esteem that was evident as a student, Siege is starkly in the opposite direction. He's arrogant to a fault, although even still, he does not continue to feel greatly or vastly superior to the Elevens as others do. Socially....well, that's non-existent. He doesn't speak to any of the other Knights unless giving orders or spiting them for speaking to him. He likes to insult the other Knights, and takes any such opportunity, especially in regards to Gino and Bismarck. He doesn't usually insult the Knight of the One when in range of him, but Three is very different. The kid is obnoxious, and he absolutely despises him. What Siege wants in a soldier is humility, bravery, loyalty, and skill, and he believes that Gino possesses no such blessings. When Siege does speak it's with a calm tone, but also one that seems to mock constantly. Everything he says could be misconstrued as an insult, simply because of his tone of voice.
In battle, Siege is brave and loyal; even though he doesn't like to take orders, he also doesn't believe in teamwork. Not only can he do it on his own, he can do it better than anyone else combined. He considers himself Britannia's greatest Knight and assassin, and always denies that Bismarck has any claim to his title. He'll generally disregard anything a general or fellow Knight has to say, because he needs no plan. The Knight of Tempests simply charges in and wins, that's the one and only plan that is ever in consideration. One would then deduce that he prefers to give orders, but that he does not. He has no knack for strategy or scheming, but he will take orders from any member of the royal family. While the success of the mission is usually his primary objective, all such things will be dropped if the safety of a prince or princess is in question, his new goal will be to get them to safety and destroy anyone who would try to do harm to them. Siege has no voiced opinion on politics or royal decisions, he simply follows orders like a good soldier. He is particularly fond of the two princesses, Cornelia and Euphemia, and is even more partial to them than the emperor himself. Of course, he's not so stupid as to voice such a preference. Generally speaking, he believes that people who speak more do it to hide their own stupidity. Such mature proclamations are typical of Siege, so he usually makes others believe that he is much older than he actually is. He tries very hard to make sure that he is the opposite of Navarre, and so he speaks little and seems pretty down all the time. No matter what the occasion, however, his true intentions are still to become the Knight of One. Not for the same selfish reasons as many others, but instead to save his mother. While this process should in theory give him a sense of purpose, there is still a void within him. He simply as no goals of his own, and for that reason often lacks the resolve that others have.
Even with his best efforts, there are some similarities between the two personas. Although neither share a strong sense of justice, both feel a need to protect the weak and avoid cruelty and unnecessary violence or cruelty. Obviously both share the same intelligence and the trait of being very eloquent. They both share the same air of grace and calmness, although both do express it in different ways. Both maintain a dislike of loud noises and people, as well as a nervousness around the fairer sex; the latter however, requires that "fair" be part of the description. Siege has learned to master some short phrases, but extended conversations or eye contact with attractive females are his undoing. Navarre, on the other hand, can only speak in a low, stuttery voice and blush if the woman is...provocative in any way. They both are compelled to grant the wish of any beautiful woman, however. Both are impatient and bad at being broad-minded, and they share the random fits of depression that come from the hopelessness of his situation. They also have an extreme hatred of Bears, for whatever reason, and a hatred of the number one for obvious reasons. More than that (and that's saying something), they both hate refrain and hope to eliminate its use completely. It ruined his life, it sure as hell wouldn't ruin the lives of the ones he cares for. Two points on which they differ are Elevens and losing. Navarre feels that Elevens are people too, with the same rights as any Britannian, while Siege feels they are a step under Britannia. Navarre is more than happy to lose if he has fun with it, but Siege absolutely despises losing, and is very competitive. In the end, it's very difficult for Navarre to decide which he is, and he struggles with it daily. He loses himself every few days, and has to soul search for quite a bit to reorient himself. If he was forced to choose which mask was closest to being an exact copy of his skin, he would choose Navarre. Siege exists solely for the purposes of protecting Britannia and saving his mother, the latter being the most important. If he could save his mother, he wouldn't know what to do. That would make him Knight of One, and he couldn't just resign from that position. At the same time, it was a stretch even for him, Knight of Two to pose as a student on a whim, but they sure as hell wouldn't allow there most talented and valued Knightmare pilot laze around at school simply because he has some vague need to be a normal civilian. That choice is something he ponders on constantly, and if asked to choose between the title of Knight of One of Britannia and Navarre Scarborough, high school student, which would he choose? That question is one of the many identity questions that he has no answer for, and that he seeks constantly.
Strengths:[/u] Expert Knightmare pilot, assassin, good actor, physically fit, fast, brave, confident, loyal, eloquent, fairly intelligent.
Weaknesses: Inaccurate with firearms, rash, impatient, overconfident (sometimes), follows orders to the letter, occasionally does not think of the whole picture, likes to fly solo.
Abilities: Knightmare pilot, assassin, actor, moderately good strategist, decent dancer, good at running track.
Weapon Proficiency: Daggers, claws, short swords, guns, hand to hand.
Allegiance: Britannia
Extra: N/A
Role-Playing Sample: The topic of that day in history class happened to be very modern, and hit pretty close to home for Navarre. It was the capturing of Area 18, formerly known as the Middle-East. A few years back, the many countries of that zone were supposed nuclear threats, and were quite the nuisance. After that bit of background, the teacher went on to say that the area was conquered fairly easily and quickly, despite the dirty tricks and ruthlessness displayed by the Arabs. That twisted Navarre's features into a sort of a frown, as he drifted back to his time in that battle. As he recalled it, it was Britannia that was ruthless and never played by the book. Such things were necessary in war, if one truly wanted to be on the winning end. Still, it came as no surprise that the government would manipulate the information sent out to the public. Public opinion wasn't a prime concern of any of the royals, but it sure helped that the people though they were on the side of justice. Besides, for these kids, they would never know what really happened or how much blood was on Navarre's hands.
While usually modern history was a good time for him to take a break and not pay any attention, it was good to compare and contrast the truth he'd seen with his own eyes and the message conveyed to the civilians. Oh, what he would give to know only those lies...the bell rang, while all the students let out some jumbled happy noises and packed their things so they could leave. Navarre did the same, and walked out with the last bit of the pack. He met up with a few of his classmates, and stood there chatting with them for quite some time. It was fun being able to speak to them frankly, and surely a hell of a lot better than trying to speak to any of the Knights. Not that he tried or cared of course, but the ordinary student talk was a lot better than the military jargon. A few of them voiced some distress over the upcoming test because of how poorly they'd done in the past few quizzes, but Navarre reassured them and said it wouldn't be too difficult. With a smile and a wave, he left the group and continued down the hallway to the main entrance/exit area.
As he walked down the first flight of stairs and then the next, he gave himself a bit of a congratulations. Another fun day of a perfect act. It was true, nothing had gone off that day and it was one of the few days when even he could not find fault with his performance. When he reached the bottom, he noticed that no one was there to pick him up yet. He watched as the others were picked up with smiles from their loving parents, and he couldn't help but get a bit depressed. Most teens responded with 'Whatever' and shirked off the caring words of their guardians, but they didn't know what they had. He'd willingly sacrifice his life to gain a life similar to theirs. Navarre sighed, as he noticed a girl behind him, who'd apparently been there for a while. It seemed she had been trying to work up the courage to say something, and finally found it. "Hey Navarre, could you help me study for the history exam later?" she spoke shyly, to which Navarre responded by staring at the ground nervously. "Um, yeah, sure." At that moment, his ride drove up, and he entered the vehicle.