We have a tie between [x] Movement and [x] Detection.
Please break the tie, or I'll be forced to get...creative.
We have a tie between [x] Movement and [x] Detection.
Please break the tie, or I'll be forced to get...creative.
Ah, come on Alf. Clearly the combo for this backfire would be a Motion Detector. One that just turns on some fancy gem that acts as a light bulb. That is totally what Rin had in mind as a way to prove herself to Shinji.Originally Posted by alfheimwanderer
Obviously her Code will automatically place a magical anchor on any living creature with an foreign prana signature (bypassing stealth using gravity field perturbation), allowing her to pull herself towards it or it towards her, depending on current relative weight.
Last edited by alfheimwanderer; May 19th, 2017 at 05:38 PM.
First time poster, is it fine if I chime in with my 2 cents?
Movement, what you came up with will be a massive lifesaver later.
Besides, detection is good, but it should come after movement, cause knowing what is coming means nothing if you're not fast enough to react
Maybe it could be like a Translocator from Unreal Tournament, except it shoots out a gem which also acts as a motion detector, that she can teleport to?
Well I know what it's not going to be...
Think of all the research that could be done with said device! Forsciencemagic.
And I am fairly certain that Rin would get herself killed rather quickly if she made that, as she forgot to invent the shoes that prevent her horrible demise when she comes out of her first infinity fall.
However the image of a pissed off Rin having to deal with GLaDOS and her laboratory of tests certainly makes me grin. I am not sure which of their two egos would still be left standing by the end of the first batch of tests.
Last edited by Skull Leader; May 19th, 2017 at 08:57 PM.
[X] Movement
Hopefully we can have Rin focus on Detection later.
Last edited by Haunter; May 20th, 2017 at 10:12 AM.
It seems I'll have to come up with something for movement then. Suggestions are welcome, though implementing them isn't guaranteed, as usual.
Ideas:
Code that stores physical speed and lets the user release it later for speed boosts
Code that works 3d movement gear
Code that allows for burrowing aka wack a mole style movement
Code that allows for phasing through solid objects
Code that allows her to limit the effect gravity has on her
Code that enhances her reflexes
Code that allows for the user to stick to/walk on any surface like ceilings or walls or water
Hm, I've heard some suggestions for stored speed, some for prana to kinetic energy conversion, and at least one that basically makes her into a biotic vanguard. Interesting, how there are so many common themes...
If I had to assign mass effect classes to people, the position of biotic vanguard is already being fulfilled by Shinji.
High defenses and higher than normal HP? Check
The ability to teleport right into the enemies face? Check
A love for 'in your face' explosions? Check
Melee weapon focus? Check
And after thinking a bit, Luna classifies as an Adapt with the ability to float/fly, throwing around waves and waves of magic energy in a sea of destruction. George fits Infiltrator with his ability to go invisible and his focus of range attacks that (now) do massive damage. Fred was before his downfall was becoming the magical version of the Solider Class. Really the only mass effect classes not represented in some way is Engineer and Sentinel. But Sion might fall into Engineer what with her ability to hack peoples minds with her Etherlite.
I apologize for the delays in getting the next chapter out. Anyway, I think I have a good idea for what to make Rin's Mystic Code, within the bounds of being something she can make as well as the categories you have stipulated. Thanks for the suggestions as well!
Hoping to have a chapter out by the weekend, featuring a theiving cat, a nekomata, and a town drowned by grudges.
Edit: Sorry, delayed by illness. Going to be on IRC if you want to chat.
Last edited by alfheimwanderer; May 26th, 2017 at 12:50 PM.
Chapter 51. Infinite Recursion
‘This is the place where it all began.’
Standing at the center of Fuyuki Central Park, a vast field of grass and trees that was deserted at nearly all hours, Fujou Kirie shivered. Not because of the cold, though it was perhaps a bit nippy to be wearing the traditional red and white garb of a miko, nor because of the wind, for the air was still and heavy this afternoon, but because as one descended from a great lineage of mediums, she could feel – could see – the echoes of what had once been all around her.
Grief.
Resentment.
Despair.
Regret.
The grudges of those who had died in the inferno that had destroyed a major swathe of Fuyuki on the west bank of the Mion river, invisible wounds in the psychic landscape of the city that lingered long after their physical counterparts had been hidden away from sight, with developers taking advantage of the new cleared real estate to raise spires of glass and metal where their predecessors of wood and stone had been burned into ash.
For the most part, at least.
A scar remained at the very heart of the city, centered around the extensive plot of land that had been set aside for the Fuyuki Civic Center Complex and the parklands around it, a structure that had been intended to replace the old City Hall in Miyama, as the city had once been called, a symbol of Fuyuki’s ambitions to become a modern city, rather than one that was mired in the past, a center of industry, commerce, and culture instead of a mere backwater.
…Sadly, it, like the ambitions it represented, had been put to the torch, and the spirit of Fuyuki’s people had never fully recovered from being put on the back foot by the loss of the symbol in which they’d placed so many of their hopes, invested so much time, effort, and expense.
And though humans often proved surprisingly capable of ignoring unpleasant realities when it suited them, rebuilding the Civic Center in the wake of the disaster would have been in poor taste, at best, given that it was from there that the conflagration that had gutted the Shinto development had begun, twisting the complex in people’s minds from a symbol of prosperity and hope to a reminder of helplessness and loss.
As such, those who had been placed in charge of restoration efforts – and had been given the unenviable choice of deciding what to do about the destroyed complex – had chosen to repurpose the plot into an urban park, intending that the space be used for passive recreation by the denizens of the city.
Sadly, things hadn’t worked out, with the people of Fuyuki – even children – shying away from it, as something within them reacted viscerally to being anywhere near the parkland. It wasn’t just the idea of what had happened there or the story of it that made them…uncomfortable, since even children who hadn’t been alive when the disaster happened had an instinctive aversion to the place. On paper – and in photographs – it seemed the very picture of what a park should be: a refuge from the concrete jungle that surrounded it, yet in person, there was something off about it.
In the beginning, a few visitors had come by, but their numbers had tapered off rather quickly, with those who had braved it feeling unclean long after leaving its soil, as if there something lurking there, something unclean, something wrong lingering just beyond the edge of their perception.
‘But not beyond mine…’ thought Fujou Kirie, who swallowed as her spirit sight revealed an ink-black miasma hovering in the air all about her, wrought of layers upon layers of grudges. She’d seen other places in the city afflicted with such regrets, but this was on a completely different level.
“Ara…the corruption is thicker here than in the Sea of Trees,” Fujou Kohaku murmured, the usual smile absent from her lips. Having been trained as a spiritualist, being here felt odd, as if she was surrounded by oil instead of air, oil that seeped through her clothes and into her pores, oil that threatened to choke her with each breath, oil that stained everything it touched.
Or would have, had the ebon bow slung over her back not kept the miasma at bay, with the living grudges recoiling from its presence – and those of the silver-tipped arrows she carried.
Speaking of which…
“Are you well, Kirie-sama?” Kohaku inquired of her mistress. The elder magus was quite a bit more sensitive than she was to such things, after all, being of the main family, lacked a hama yumi of her own to protect her, and had not gone through the trial that she and Shiroe-sama had.
“Well enough, Kohaku-san,” the older woman responded gravely, closing her eyes as she focused, the miasma recoiling from her as she touched the length of cloth-wrapped metal her brother had entrusted to her when he heard she would be visiting Fuyuki. “In any case, I think this is the place.”
“Where Shiroe-sama…”
“Yes.”
For Fujou Kirie, visiting Fuyuki City hadn’t exactly been something she had wanted to do, given how her parents had died there almost a decade ago, but when she’d learned why they’d been there to begin with, she didn’t really feel like she had a choice in the matter.
‘They came here because they felt a growing spiritual disturbance in this spiritual land, as if a tatarigami would soon be born. And as onmyouji, it was their duty to stop such an occurrence if they could.’
Shortly thereafter, they had died in the fire that swept through the city shortly, though to their credit, no tatarigami had emerged from the city to wreak destruction upon Japan, indicating that they’d succeeded in containing or banishing it – or else that something or someone else had.
‘Not that we know exactly what happened due to Church and the Association investing a significant amount of influence and material resources into covering up the events of the Grail War.’
Important records had been erased or lost, certain projects had been quietly backed – or discouraged – and material evidence of the conflict – for example, the orphans which had lost their families in the fire – had been made to simply disappear, with no one being the wiser.
The willingness of these organizations to resort to such blatant and extensive manipulations had unnerved the powers of Mahoutokoro, though the territorial attitude many Association magi had towards their lands and the Church’s close association with the Tohsaka family had made pursuing a fact-finding mission – or intervention – in Fuyuki a low priority, in light of the “death” of the Fujous in a “car accident.”
Until now, that is.
‘Tohsaka Rin, the proper Second Owner, is in London, being courted by the Matou scion. The Archmagus Matou Zouken, acting-Second Owner, and the entirety of his family, is dead. And the Executor of the Church, Kotomine Kirei, has been recalled to Rome.’
And with no magi (or representative of foreign powers) remaining in Fuyuki at present, there was a rare opportunity for Mahoutokoro to send an agent to do a thorough investigation to ascertain the state of the spiritual land.
Two agents, rather – Fujou Kirie, who had been selected due to the sensitivity of her spiritual abilities (rather more powerful than those of her brother, even if he was the more powerful in combat), and Fujou Kohaku, her relative, who would serve as her bodyguard and general assistant.
Even in their short time together, Kirie had found that her cousin had an uncanny gift for acting – for putting on whatever face or persona she thought most advantageous when dealing with others, as well as a certain unflappability in situations that would reduce many others to gibbering terror, such as seeing the evil at the heart of the Sea of Trees…or Fuyuki’s own heart of darkness.
“We should purify this place, if we can,” Kirie found herself saying as she opened her eyes, looking uneasily at the darkness all around her. “For a city where people live to be worse off than Aokigahara – it is sickening.”
“That may be difficult, Kirie-sama, as there are no vengeful spirits to slay here,” Kohaku noted, seeming almost…disappointed. “Simply grudges, and collections of grudges. Almost as if they were parts of a single great being.”
“…such as a tatarigami?”
“I would not know, Kirie-sama. I have never encountered one.”
“Perhaps not,” Fujou Kirie noted grimly. “Even so, as onmyouji, it is our duty to do what we can.” ‘And as a Fujou, it is my duty to finish what my family began, years ago.’ “I believe your nekomata can manipulate grudges and curses, yes?”
“This is so, Kirie-sama,” Kohaku said deferentially. “What did you have in mind?”
The elder Fujou took a deep breath, withdrawing a wooden wand with two zigzagging paper streamers from her robes.
“Using your familiar’s abilities, and mine, we can collapse the grudges in this park, into a single spirit which we can then combat and exorcise.”
“That may be dangerous, Kirie-sama,” Kohaku warned, brows knitting together in concern. “Concentrating this many grudges into a single spirit…”
“…it would almost be like a proto-Tatarigami, yes. I know it is risky. But we don’t really have a choice, Kohaku-san.”
“And why is that, Kirie-sama? No one comes to this park, to this place of broken dreams. It has been abandoned, so the affliction harms no one. Why not simply leave it?”
Fujou Kirie smiled bitterly.
“Just because something has been afflicted by something from which it cannot recover on its own, does not mean it should be abandoned.” ‘…as I was abandoned.’ “Aside from that, this place is one of the spiritual anchors of Fuyuki, along with the Temple and the house of the Second Owner.”
“Why us?”
“Because we are here. We are Fujou. This is who and what we are.”
Silence reigned for a moment before Kohaku sighed and nodded. A small sound, really, and one far quieter than the rasp of steel as the redhead drew her blade – the five-hundred-year-old katana called the Kuji Kanesada.
“Then we had best begin, Kirie-sama.”
“Indeed,” Fujou Kirie intoned, thrusting her wand into the air as the darkness began to gather.
Half a world away, Fleur Delacour found herself relaxing for the first time in weeks, luxuriating in the embrace of the warm, bubbling waters of a hidden hot spring. A sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as she reflected that it had been entirely too long since she’d enjoyed the pleasure of a proper bath, as such things were not easy to come by in the arctic wastes.
‘I ‘ave found most of ze relic shards I require…’
Enough that she had begun to piece them together, and had an idea of what was missing, yet not enough to discern the function of the completed artifact. At least there were only two or three more pieces to go, as there was little time remaining – a week, at most.
‘Ave ze ozer champions finished?’
The part-Veela didn’t know, really, though she imagined that Viktor Krum might have already completed his search and returned to Durmstrang, as he’d been the first to set out into the cold and no doubt already knew the layout of the isles intimately. Perhaps, even now, he was enjoying the simple comforts the castle had to offer while she and the Hogwarts Champion continued to wander. Comforts like solid stone walls, the hot springs, a proper bed, and more – things she hadn’t really appreciated before embarking on the Second Task.
‘I zought of Durmstrang as primitive, as its facilities are far more primitive than those of Beauxbatons, but in the north…’
…even the austere conditions the students of the school endured were far superior to braving the cold alone, with nothing but a wand and whatever one could carry on one’s person.
On her first day out of the castle, she’d almost collapsed from exhaustion, as she hadn’t realized how taxing it was to keep herself warm for a prolonged period with nothing more than her instinctive affinity for fire. She’d quickly learned that it was more effective to enchant her clothing to keep her warm and dry, something she’d never had to worry about at Beauxbatons, though she was by no means a master enchanter.
On her third day of bumbling about, she’d run afoul of a patrol of gytrashes, and had nearly forgotten they were resistant to fire. She had been forced to use her song to daze them all, while she tried spell after spell to drive them off – only succeeding once she thought of the simple wand-lighting charm.
By the fifth day, she’d run out of the rations – bread, dried fruit, and meat – she’d packed, and had only kept herself from starving by ambushing – and defeating – a den of trolls, luring them out from their cave one at a time before forcing snowballs enchanted with confringo down into their gullets, after which she’d helped herself to skewers of some animal being roasted over a roaring fire – and the first of the artifact shards she’d sought.
By the end of the first week, she’d learned that seaweed could be eaten, that certain plants that grew in the cold of Svalbard were not to be trusted, and could cause hallucinations if ingested – as well as how to create snow caves and Quinzee shelters to keep her warm if she could not find a natural cave to sleep in.
By the end of the second, she’d become quite proficient with conjuring up spears and spikes of ice both to hunt the reindeer of Svalbard for their meat and thick fur (the latter of which had been particularly helpful as a way to keep her warm, but had sometimes confused her as to which animals were healthy and which were half-starved themselves), while driving away dangerous beasts which sought to steal her kills.
By the end of the third week, the part-Veela had mostly stopped wondering if she might run into Matou’s party, or into one of her competitors, given how expansive Svalbard could be, and how they’d all left at different times, choosing to put what energy and brainpower she had towards more practical concerns, like surviving and completing the Second Task.
Which was why she’d been so surprised when she’d stumbled upon the cloaked form of George Weasley, the Champion of Hogwarts, roasting a sizzling haunch of some beast – reindeer from the smell of it – over pale blue flames in a cavern she’d just begun to scout to see if it would be suitable for a good night’s sleep.
“Hello, Miss Delacour,” the golden-eyed boy had greeted, a warm smile on his face as he caught sight of her. “You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes.”
“Weas…ley…” she’d said slowly, not used to speaking after weeks of silence. “Vat…are you doing ‘ere?”
“Same as you, I expect,” the boy had replied easily. “Needing to a place to shake off the cold.”
Not that he’d looked cold or in any way uncomfortable, wearing a clean, unrumpled Durmstrang uniform, and otherwise seeming perfectly groomed and at ease, as if he hadn’t been out in the wilderness these past weeks.
“…you…’ave been here for some time?”
“Enough to explore the caverns a bit, yes,” George had answered, an odd expression playing at the corner of his lips. “I imagine you’ll be pleased to know that there are natural hot springs deeper in. The perfect temperature for a nice, hot soak...”
“Would you…”
“Mind if you joined me? Not at all, Miss Delacour,” the redhead had said easily. “It has been a bit lonely these past weeks, and I could do with a bit of company.”
In the conversation that had followed, Fleur had slowly come to realize three things.
First, when she’d entered the cave, she’d had her allure at the highest level possible, as controlling it had not exactly been a priority out in the wilderness. Second, George Weasley’s reactions and demeanor had remained consistent as she clamped down on her allure, with the young man remaining in perfect control of his body and his faculties – even in the face of a power that should have driven him mad with lust and desire.
‘I ‘ave never met someone who vas immune…’
He hadn’t struggled or lost his composure for a moment – something that Fleur could hardly believe, given that anyone who was attracted to women should be affected to some degree – and she was fairly sure that he was, just as he was a rather attractive individual himself.
And third – she had missed the taste of chocolate more than she had even begun to imagine, something she’d only learned after George had offered her a steaming mug of hot cocoa – from a small packet he’d apparently brought for personal use.
“…vy did you?”
“Oh, I always like to be prepared,” George had noted, his golden-eyed gaze mirthful. “Comes with being a Stone Cutter and facing Dark Wizards, among other things. But if you’re asking why I’m offering it to you, it is because you looked like needed it more than I.”
He’d even offered her the chance to use the springs first, something she’d leapt at, given that she hadn’t had access to hot water for a very long time, and could feel just how grimy and smelly she must be, especially compared to her perfectly groomed competitor.
And now, as she soaked in the waters of the spring, she felt like she didn’t want to leave, because for the first time in weeks, she truly felt warm, as if the cold had at last been banished.
‘I’d zought ze froid in my bones vas permanent, but it is gone…’
She sighed in contentment, her eyes closing for a moment, before fluttering open as she heard approaching footsteps, descending from the top level of the cave, and stopping some distance away.
“Enjoying yourself?” the voice of George Weasley asked with some amusement, his form barely visible in the steam.
“I…oui...” Fleur answered, stumbling over her words. It seemed perfect here – well, almost perfect, as there were some spots she couldn’t quite reach with her hands.
The small of her back for one.
“Would you mind some company? I hear its tradition to share a bath up in these parts.”
“I…”
“Tell you what. I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” the boy said, almost impishly, as he padded closer.
Ordinarily, Fleur would probably have refused, but being around another person after so long alone, someone despite being her competitor and being unaffected by her allure, was so very kind, on top of how comfortable she felt in the hot spring, made her feel otherwise.
“…Oui,” she answered, her cheeks pink in the dimness.
For the rest of the night, though there were sounds aplenty, there were no more words.
Choice 172: Before the competitors for the Potions Championship are sent off into the wilderness for the official competition, there are a number of small preliminaries, such as cooking competitions, duels, speed brewing contests, and other such - which are part social event, partly a way for the Champions to show off their abilities, and partly a way for interested observers to see what the Champions are capable of under pressure.
What is Shinji's approach to these preliminaries? (choose one)
[ ] Take them seriously - he doesn't want to come across as an easy target
[ ] Do his best - without revealing any trump cards, since this isn't the actual competition
[ ] Blow it off - the more underestimated he is the better
[ ] (write-in)
Ah Fred.
In any case, it's been a busy few weeks, but it's good to be back.
[x] - Do his best - without revealing any trump cards, since this isn't the actual competition
As usual, we don't want to seem weak, and Shinji has had a history of reacting badly to being underestimated overmuch, and Britain might react badly if we put on a poor showing, making our job even harder than it already is. All the same, we want to make sure that our ability to actually win is still there, by denying as much information as is reasonable.
So the very nature of this tale causes me to seriously question if that was really George and not the tanuki. Well played. Also my thoughts run wild on what Kotomine could be up to in Rome. No good can happen on that front.
I agree that we asked for some major bad PR if we go the route of not trying at all. And by going all out we do run the risk of getting everyone's attention (for good or bad). In the end I think the all out option while risky and dangerous at least as a side benefit of grabbing the attention of the world's best potion masters. But I think we are here to survive and not for ultimate glory.
[X] Do his best w/o use of trump cards
If people want to get really risky and slytherin-like, we could do a write in that causes Shinji to do his very best in say one or two of the areas, and then slack off on the others. So maybe do well in cooking/brewing events (or at least as good as shinji can do) and then do horrible in say dueling (by showcasing the skills a normal hogwarts student his grade level would have). Or we could reverse it and do great in dueling but bad in potions.
This proposal of mine would allow Shinji to have everyone (that doesn't already know better) to have a false impression of his overall skill levels, but not so bad that he becomes known as the easy mark. I would love to hear people's thoughts on this idea.
Last edited by Skull Leader; June 4th, 2017 at 07:42 AM.
I will be on IRC to discuss the chapter as per usual.
Do his best.
[X] Do his best
[X] Do his best without trump
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