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Thread: Fate/Reclamation (IC)

  1. #341
    焼け尽きた感情も Reiu's Avatar
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    Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)
    Lee Valley Park


    The girl’s laughter startled him, and yet was not entirely unexpected.

    Metaphysical. Philosophical.

    …Perhaps. Once upon a time…perhaps, he too would have thought as much, as nonetheless close to his heart the beliefs that lay behind the question were.

    He glanced at the makeshift grave of the unknown stranger, already seeming to have passed also from the minds of the majority of those present here.

    He had to know what was, fundamentally, missing. His own life was the proof of that; for had it been there, he would not be standing here, now. And that man—



    …Something, from this world that he had so believed in, had been lost all this time. Something that perhaps never existed.


    He must know what that was.
    Everything else would fall into place from there.


    For that, he needed the Holy Grail—to confirm with his own eyes.


    Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;


    He could not simply observe. Not after what had happened, not after what he had done.


    Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.


    No,
    A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.


    What lay before him, was to determine——

    Only with thine eyes, shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.








    ……The words, when they came, transpired in scarce a whisper.


    “——Who is this ‘us’ whom you speak of?”


    Us. In all likelihood, that was the coalition of magi, white against blue. He knew that already, in a manner of speaking.
    …That was not what he asked of now.


    “Who…are you…?”


    He recalled the snatches of her voice that he had briefly caught before his short departure and return, as he found himself almost faltering before those calm, bright, yet somehow inscrutable red eyes.



    “Ilya——……?”

    Last edited by Reiu; September 3rd, 2018 at 04:17 AM.


  2. #342
    闇色の六王権 The Dark Six Mellon's Avatar
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    Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)
    Lee Valley Park

    “Who…are you…?”

    “Ilya——……?”
    Despite the sounds of the furious battle taking place behind you, you could make out her silvery giggle with perfect clarity. A slightly mischevious twinkle flickered in her eyes, but her small hand still remained extended towards Arwyn.

    “That is a silly question, Mister. I suppose I could give you the formal introduction... but I think you already have some general idea of what I am talking about, no?”

    “Besides, that is not what you are really asking about, isn’t it?”

    “But… boooo~!”

    Ilya’s finger went to her eyelid and she stuck out her tongue at you in a supremely childlike gesture, something seemingly completely out of character to her previously serious words and the somber atmosphere that been there moments before.

    “A girl has to keep her mystique! Its the lifeblood of every young lady!”

    A brief silence.



    “Ilya is Ilya. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  3. #343
    Lost in the Woods Verg Avesta's Avatar
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    Freogan Deofolgeat
    16th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    Finding himself suddenly locked into a contest of stares with Lancer, a blush crept onto Freogan's face until he was forced to turn his gaze away. While he might have been able to get back to his element while cooking and drinking, it seemed that being surrounded by three ladies did take its toll on the emotive man after all.

    However, as Lancer's words echoed those of her Master, bringing a certain sense of diplomacy to what had been a rather ridiculous demand to begin with, the expression on Freogan's face began to change. The blush receded, his brow knitted together and his mouth turned into a thin line. Without saying a word the blonde man took another bottle of stout from the cabinet, opened it with his bare hands and took a swig that emptied half of the bottle in one go. After that, his hands reached for his jacket where he procured a cigarette that he proceeded to light. Soon enough a pinprick of light, like an eye of embers on his face, shone in the dimly-lit pub, with smoke rising towards the ceiling.

    And the silence following Lancer's words was filled with the clinking of Freogan's zippo-lighter - a sound that Berserker had heard once before.

    The night-sky outside the window threw its harsh shadow over Freogan when, after a moment of thinking, he finally started speaking. Worryingly enough, some of that joviality had disappeared from his tone.

    "What sorta bellend goes to war to make friends? The moment this bloody thing started I knew I'd have to do what I'd have to do to survive," Freogan spoke rather harshly. "I ain't got no insipid little daydreams about getting along with all twits from here to Bristol. I mean, I might fancy a fag and a chat once or twice even with my worst enemy, but that don't mean we're gonna avoid duking it out in the end. It's just... I might have to fight you, but that don't mean I got to hate you. You ain't done wrong by me, so why should I? Don't know if that makes sense, but that's how I feel."

    Freogan proceeded to take a drag out of his cigarette, satisfied that he had cleared up Lancer's misunderstanding. It was becoming clearer that while the man had been very friendly to the two of them, his supposed enemies, that had nothing to do with his willingness to fight. It was a rather archaic, almost barbaric way of thinking... yet at the same time, it fit him rather well. Do not blame your enemies, blame the circumstances that brought forth this battle... a philosophy of a warrior that rarely appeared in these modern times.

    "And I get you, Sweatpants, I do. Magi are a right bunch of nobs who'd rather sell their mother than give up their secrets. I know that bloody well. Every morning I wake up is a morning I'm surprised I don't got a knife stuck between my ribs," Freogan continued. "So when you say you want none of that, I want to believe you. Of course, with that posh attitude of yours I can't help but to wonder... when the time came, would we be part of that 'rabble' you'll be standing above?"

    The stern glare of Freogan moved from Lancer to Mitsuno, boring a figurative hole through her.

    "I mean, you wankers say you're offering us green grass and high tides, that we'd be bloody morons for not throwing in with you lot..." Freogan took another drag, and this time the smoke he blew out framed his face. "... And meanwhile, one of you gives us the most insulting fake name possible."

    The atmosphere of the pub changed ever-so-slightly.

    "Trust is a two-way street, loves. And that road is a dead-end if one side can't even give us her real name."

  4. #344
    焼け尽きた感情も Reiu's Avatar
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    Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)
    Lee Valley Park

    To fill the Cup of Heaven with the shattered dreams of others is the only way that t
    he nature of that particular truth will be revealed to you.
    The answer you seek…. Can you truly find it on your own? No.
    Do you want to find it on your own?
    After all, that is without a doubt, the path filled with the most bloodshed and tragedy.

    Perhaps that was the case. —No, most likely, it was simply how it was. A foregone conclusion of what lay down that path.

    “……”


    But in the end, more than all of that, it was her final words that decided his answer.

    More than any consideration of his own fears, of what lay before him, of the war. Those, he would ponder later, on his own time.


    “Ilya is Ilya. Nothing more, nothing less.”


    The words rang true; that he had no doubt of. Others might say didn’t tell the whole story of the young Grail War participant before him.

    …Yet, instinctively, he felt that the girl meant those words.
    And that was all there was to it for him.

    His was a nonsensical decision, and even more nonsensical of a request to make in a war like this.


    —Nonetheless, he had made up his mind.


    “I am Arwyn. Arwyn Penrith…but Arwyn is fine.”


    He glanced down at the cup of Darjeeling. In what time had passed, it was already begining to become lukewarm, by now, in the bitter cold of this winter night.

    He finished it, and set it down.


    “…if it would be okay with you…”


    When he spoke again, it was in a different tone, from how he had spoken. Honest, hesitant, unadorned words, and yet—with clear will, and perhaps the most genuine to his person any here had heard him speak so far.


    “—I would like to join you, Ilya.”

    “Not the White faction, nor Ilya of the White faction, but ‘Ilya’…and Leys…and Sella.
    And…Saver, of course.”

    He looked at each as he pronounced the names with care, sparing a brief glance at the battle to their side on the last; names gleamed only secondhand from the words she had spoken.

    “…Not one person more, nor any less.”


    Having given his own answer, he extended his own hand towards her outstretched one, just shy of reaching——and awaited hers.
    Last edited by Reiu; September 4th, 2018 at 03:11 PM.


  5. #345
    Assassin of White
    15th of December, 2004
    Royal Opera House
    Night (Phase 1-3)


    Quote Originally Posted by Akechi Tohsaka
    ‘Assassin remember how I said our first order of business of gathering intel and assessing our forces? I’ve changed my mind. Your first order as my servant is destroying this vestibule with no Clocktower survivors.’
    Gladly.

    Throughout the entire exchange, Assassin had been conducting reconnaissance, looking for alternate entrances while keeping an eye on her Master and her Master’s family. It wasn’t her place to interfere with familial bonding nor comment on the discourse between talking heads and their obtuse political maneuvering.

    While hiding among the shadowy corners at the side of the opulent vestibule, Assassin considered her options. She could sense the presence of two-no--three Servants nearby. Their allegiances were undeterminable, that complicated matters somewhat, but Assassin had her mission.

    And to an Assassin, a Hassan, the mission was law.

    Brothers and Sisters, this is for you.

    بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَنِ الرَّحِيمِ
    قُلْ أَعُوذُ بِرَبِّ الْفَلَقِ
    مِنْ شَرِّ مَا خَلَقَ
    وَمِنْ شَرِّ غَاسِقٍ إِذَا وَقَبَ
    وَمِنْ شَرِّ النَّفَّاثَاتِ فِي الْعُقَدِ
    وَمِنْ شَرِّ حَاسِدٍ إِذَا حَسَدَ





    “ZaBaNiYa”

    The lyrical, song-like chant flowed from Assassin’s tongue like a prayer, pregnant with divine meaning and spiritual content. Yet there seemed to be a malicious tint to the words.

    Instantly a pillar of hellfire erupted from the ground underneath the Vice Director’s feet.

    Assassin’s Master had given an order and Assassin would do everything in her power to make it a reality.

    Wiseup - Assassin

    Parameters

    STR - C
    END - C
    AGI - A
    MGI - E
    LCK - B
    NP - D


    Class Skills
    Presence Concealment - A
    The ability to conceal the Servant's presence granted usually to the Assassin Class.

    A: Hides one's presence as a Servant. Suitable for spying. It is possible to disappear almost completely and reduce one's chances to be detected, even against a Servant's perception. However, efficiency will decrease once preparations to attack are taken.

    Noble Phantasm:

    Zabaniya: Delusional Refuge
    Rank: D
    Cost: 100
    Type: Anti-Unit

    A Zabaniya is a noble phantasm of those that took the name of Hassan-i-Sabbah, a miracle that shows one’s piety and swiftly brings death to its target.

    Delusional Refuge’s true nature is a Divine Ritual that was taught within the Islamic religious community but only the most pious were able to actualize it. The Divine Ritual utilizes passages from the Qur’an for the invocation chant and activates immediately upon completion. The content of the chant can be chosen to suit the needs of the practitioner and thus the length and potency also vary. For the most part, it was generally used to protect the user or heal ailments caused by spiritual influences such as Jinn.

    Assassin’s usage of the Divine Ritual is primarily offensive and is actually closer to a curse. The passage that she chooses to recite is the Al-Falaq “The Dawn”, a short 5 verse sura that calls upon God to protect the reader from external harm. However, Assassin’s intent and thus her interpretation is “May Allah remove/destroy the external force that can cause harm”. As such the Ritual manifests in a curse attack that summons the hellfire of Jahannam to deal damage to both physical and spiritual targets.
    Last edited by arkturus; September 10th, 2018 at 03:53 AM. Reason: Added further description to NP wiseup
    I play hetero every once in awhile
    Spoiler:
    <~Katie> dude who gives a fuck about girls being gay, sometimes girls aren't gay and that decision should be respected
    Spoiler:
    [12:21.40] that might be a top tier post[12:21.45] frantic[12:21.47] post of the month, even[12:21.48] this right here[12:21.49] is MC [12:21.56] johnny has nothing on this dude[12:22.00] he's the MC of the nisio half[12:22.12] so wait[12:22.15] [ ] is, after all, my rival character[12:22.16] am i the gag heroine[12:22.20] yes

  6. #346
    Mori Shiori
    16th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)


    A clock was ticking. Shiori wasn’t sure if it was a clock in the establishment or just her imagination but she was made painfully aware of its existence as Freogan spoke. Its systematic hand reminded her that the night was dragging on.

    Time was up. The atmosphere in the shop was changing. Her little masquerade had reached the limit and so was the silly, happy atmosphere that had been teetering from the start. With the midnight bells, the evening dance would die, and Cinderella’s dress will fade.

    And so, making up her mind on what to do, the young lady wrung her plastic smile like a wet towel, melting the flowery expression. The happy haze in her eyes had cleared and so Himitsuno Namae would wrap things up, with the last remnants of her eloquence.

    “Oh dear,” She exclaimed. “My words must have been unclear. Everyone seems to have misunderstood me. How embarrassing.”

    Her body was nearly motionless. The girl spoke clearly and calmly. There were none of the dramatic gestures she had exhibited previously. Her words weren’t addressed solely to the opposing pair, but to all three of the people in the room.

    “I’m sorry, Lancer. I should’ve talked things over with you beforehand.”

    An understatement among other things she should apologize for. Looking back, she should probably submit a written apology for her blunders tonight alone. Would cutting her stomach open be enough to make up for all the humiliation the Servant went through tonight? Probably not.

    Then, she looked solely at the other two: the magus who had been playing along and the Servant who hadn’t said much overall. To be honest, she wasn’t exactly sure what to tell them after her failed attempts at conversation, so she just settled on just being clear. Either way, they probably wouldn’t like what she had to say.

    “You see, mister, missus. I never asked for your trust or friendship. I’m actually not fond of such things. No, I only suggested that you should join our side. Because I think that’s your best chance for your survival and I wouldn’t want you to just lose your lives.”

    There was a sense of candor to her words. She was unconsciously keeping from looking either of them in the eyes, yet her blunt speech was coming from somewhere genuine. The more severe her intentions became, the more honest her tone.

    “Not a proposal but an ultimatum. Not diplomacy but mercy. Not trust but faith. Blind, illogical faith. I believe that sort of thing is the best way to save yourself.” She admitted. “Well, I suppose not too illogical. After all, two is larger than one and eight is stronger than six. Then again, numbers don’t mean much unless you’re a computer. Still, I guess I need to work on my English skills, so people understand me better. Who would’ve thought foreign languages were so hard? Haha.”

    The Master laughed lightly. Her gaze had shifted to her mostly-eaten plate while a faint blush creeped up on her cheeks. Was she embarrassed? Or just uncomfortable? There wasn’t much time to contemplate which as she suddenly leapt from her seat.

    “Anyways, it’s getting really late and us ladies need our beauty sleep. Shall we go home for tonight, Lancer? Let’s just call it our loss and tactically retreat for the time being.”

    Abruptly, she grabbed her purse and belongings, motioning for her Servant to finish up and follow. Giving barely more than a little wave to the others, she almost hurriedly said her farewells, paying no heed to any response to her sincerity.

    “If you don’t mind, we’ll be taking our leave, dears. I’m sure you’ll never see me again, at least not as Mitsuno, but I doubt you were too fond of me, anyways, so there should be no problem. If you change your minds later, my offer is always open so think about it.”

    Unless interrupted, she began to leave, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Without a word, the princess made her exit, without even leaving behind a glass slipper.

    “Au revoir.”


  7. #347
    闇色の六王権 The Dark Six Mellon's Avatar
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    Akechi Tohsaka & Assassin of White
    15th of December, 2004
    Royal Opera House
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    As Akechi fired off her first Gandr the marble handrailing in front of her seemed to almost explode as it was struck by a bolt of raging, azure fire. Sidestepping an incoming bolt of electricity, the young Tohsaka’s fingers were almost as a blur, as in an almost machine-gun like fashion the black bullet-like curses were fired off towards the distant lights. Even over the roaring sounds of spellfire, you could make out the distinct pops of shattering glass as the Gandr bullets sailed through them.

    Seemingly instantly grasping your aim, Rin quickly deflected a vacuum blade that had been sent her way using one of her gems and let out a quick shout.



    “Sakura! The lights!”



    “Yes!”

    For her part, the auburn-haired young sister pulled out a fistful of pitch-black crystals, no larger than a dime in diameter and threw them into the air. A brief mutter escaped from her lips, lost in the overall cacophony taking place, but the last word was something even you could make out clearly.

    Führung!



    Wise-up
    Führung
    D-rank (Individual Fundamentals)

    A guidance spell that takes advantage of Sakura’s inherent attribute of Imaginary Numbers. In essence, affixing an identical “spatial value” to both an object and its target. As the two objects are “at the same location” in the eyes of the World, it becomes impossible to miss. However, in a manner similar to the inscription of runes, the flow of magical energy in the body resists the harmonization of imaginary values, limiting its effectiveness against most magecraft users.

    This limitation does not apply to Servants, as their spiritual forms can be considered to be composed of Imaginary Values to begin with, being subject to the collective perception of mankind.


    With seemingly an almost a mind of their own, the handful of gems shot into the air, weaving through the flying spells and projectiles with an almost uncanny accuracy. A moment later, all of the remaining lights shattered in almost perfect unison as the dark gemstones released the magecraft stored within them as they struck their targets. This left only one target - the massive chandelier that overlooked the entire ante hall.

    With another flurry of black bullets, you severed the reinforced steel connection attaching it to the ceiling and brought the entire thing down on the Vice-Director who was standing below it.One of the members of the Chelion Brigade, who had formed a protective circle around Lorelei, clapped her hands. Pillars of azure flame suddenly erupted all around in the room, bathing the entire area in a cold blue light. Another immediately raised his right hand towards the tumbling chandelier and started to incant a spell unfamiliar to Akechi. Theugia? The falling pillar of glass immediately halted in midair and seemingly started to unwind itself into its composite materials. The numerous glass shards that were bound together in a single massive fixture seemed, carefully, but purposefully detach themselves, almost as if someone was reversing the hours of effort that had been spent to create it in the first place.

    A massive gust of wind buffeted Akechi, as Assassin burst into action from behind her, moving at a superhuman speed.





    In an instant, the Vice-Director barely managed to raise her gauntleted hand before she was immediately engulfed in a raging tornado of blood-red flames. The intensity of the heat was such that it instantly set ablaze the members of the Brigade close to Lorelei, filling the room with heart-chilling screams as the blazing magi tore at their flaming robes, the defensive enchantments placed only managing to barely shield them from the supernatural flames. The spell that had unwound the falling chandelier suddenly stopped, causing half-disassembled pieces to rain down onto the raging hellfire, where they were almost instantly incinerated by the fiery torrent.

    However, amidst the raging fire, Assassin could make out flashes of clearest azure.
    Wise-up - Lorelei Barthomeloi


    STR - C
    CON - D
    AGI - B
    MGI – BServant
    PRP – N/A (A++)

    Blue Blood

    The legendary Magic Circuits of the Barthomeloi family, who are said to reign supreme over the modern era of magecraft. Exceedingly outstanding in all areas of circuit quality, quantity, and efficiency, it is not a stretch to say that the magical strength possessed by the members of the family more closely resembles the magecraft practitioners of long-lost eras, rather than contemporary magi.

    In a manner similar to Servants, the users PRA and FIN attributes are replaced by a single MGI score. The rank is dependant on the inherent capacity of the character in question, but for Lorelei, one of the most outstanding magi ever to be born into the Barthomeloi family, it is equivalent to B-rank. In addition, the strength and power of the Lorelei’s magecraft surpasses that of Masters and exists in a tier reminiscent of the supernatural abilities of high-ranking magical creatures, such as Dead Apostle Ancestors and Heroic Spirits.

    Sorcery Trait -
    Almighty

    The Barthomeloi family possesses the magical attribute of Almighty. The conceptual weight woven into the very essence of her magecraft means that spells cast by Lorelei cannot be hampered or interfered with by spells or supernatural abilities that have a basis in contemporary spiritual foundations used by modern magi. Defensive barriers are instantly shattered and even the very weakest of Lorelei's spells are capable of overwhelming even Instant Contract-type spells cast by other, less prestigious, magi. Even usage of spells that border on the level of True Magic, such as Reality Marbles, would struggle to directly influence Lorelei's magecraft with their inherent concepts. Its scale is such that even Heroic Spirits, whose spells are based on modern methodologies of magecraft, could potentially find themselves overwhelmed by the conceptual nature of the Barthomeloi family magecraft.

    A ludicrous magical attribute that borders on the level of ridiculousness, suitable for one who is known as the Supreme Magus of the Modern Era.


    A deep blue cocoon-like shell stood in the middle of the hellstorm, no less imposing than the flames outside. Perpetual deadlock seemed to be the outcome, as the cursed flames would not subside before their target was snuffed out, but nor were they powerful enough to penetrate the defensive enchantments that Lorelei had surrounded herself with. A number of the white-robed magi that had evaded Assassin’s initial burst of aggression started chanting spells clearly aimed at dispelling or at the very least restraining the flames surrounding their Marshal.

    The rest clearly aimed to provide covering fire.

    Finishing his chant, one of the members of the Brigade gestured in front of himself. A silver sphere, almost looking akin to a ball of hair-thin threads, suddenly appeared near the staircase, on top of which most members of the Three Families were standing. A moment later the orb whirled into life, spinning at a maddening pace. Hundreds of ultra-thin strands cut through the air throughout the entire staircase, slicing through everything in their paths, almost as if meeting no resistance from the hardened wood or stone pillars. Shards of stone and wood flew into the air, each bisected from their source by cuts of unnatural smoothness.

    Ribbons of floor tiling, glowing with an unnatural hue, suddenly shot up from around Assassin, clearly aimed at restraining her position, while at the same time a wave of cutting crimson light flew at her in a manner reminiscent of a whip, fired off by an auburn-haired magi whose robe showed clear signs of fire damage. Snaking through the air, the ruby attack slipped past the countless silvery threads cutting through the area with an almost inhuman grace, seemingly ignoring both the laws of physics, as well as those of human reaction.

    Wise-up
    Argentum Filum
    B-rank (Mineralogy)
    Area of Effect

    A spell focused on wide-scale destruction that forms a sphere of ultra-pressurized liquid silver, which is then fired off and contracted in a stringlike manner. As the number of strings can be counted in the hundreds, it can be considered a large-scale attack spell that is wholly incapable of discerning between allies and enemies and makes evasion impossible.

    A spell initially created an popularized by the dean of the Twelfth Faculty - Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald. However, ever since the manufacture of his prized Mystic Code, the spell has fallen somewhat out of the favor of its creator, who now considers it somewhat crude an inelegant. However, it still remains relatively popular among many magi of the Association, especially those predisposed towards more... aggressive types of magecraft.


    Alexandra Chimaregenos
    15th of December, 2004
    Isleworth Ait
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    It was done.

    The actual magecraft behind attenuating a leyline to its owner was relatively basic. Despite claims made by certain Second Owners, being an administrator of a leyline was no great magical feat in itself. One of prestige perhaps, but certainly not one of skill. Dealing with the Tenth Faculty, the traditional supervisors of West London, would be a hassle in itself, but considering the rather unusual circumstances, your hand was somewhat forced by the situation.

    The Jigmarie head would simply have to accept it for the time being.

    With your superhuman senses you could make out the smell of wet grass, mud, and rustling leaves, but all of it was overshadowed by the sea of magical energy that you could now sense humming beneath your feet and flowing towards the center of the city. Both the quantity and quality of mana present in the leyline was exceptional. Obviously, even a child could parrot out that London was the best Spiritual Land on the planet, but it was a wholly different thing to actually feel it for yourself. But… something was off. Traditionally, the mana present in the leyline was unaligned and pure. Nothing more but a colorless river flowing underneath the surface. This was not the case here. You could not immediately identify it, but you could definitely sense that the leyline itself had gained some type of Attribute, almost as if something was altering the very spiritual land of London itself.

    Alexandra suddenly caught wind something in a nearby underbrush.

    Not something you could truly see, but rather something whose presence you could instinctually feel with your ancient senses. It could, of course, be a spiritual assassin summoned by one of your many, many rivals, but considering the timing and the location, it was most likely one of Trivian’s faerie familiars. This was confirmed a moment later, when the invisible figure emerged from the trees and stopped a meter or so from Alexandra, still no more visible to the eye, but emanating a small pulse of od that made it eminently identifiable to any magi.

    A moment later, the dark-haired lecturer’s voice filled the clearing. Although the Vlastos family head usually prided himself on his impeccably unflappable nature, Trivian’s breathing was now somewhat ragged, almost as if he had just undergone extensive physical exertion.



    ...haa...haa… Department Head, I hope you have managed to wrap it up on your end.”

    “Because we have a bit of a problem on our hands.”

    On the background, you could hear the muted sounds of explosions and howling wind play out.
    Last edited by Mellon; December 5th, 2018 at 06:04 AM.

  8. #348
    闇色の六王権 The Dark Six Mellon's Avatar
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    Arwyn Cadfael Penrith & Saber
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)
    Lee Valley Park



    The young white-haired girl grasped your hand with a soft smile on her face.

    “So be it, Arywn Cadfael Penrith.”

    A moment later, Ilya gave the white-haired man a playful wink.



    “No takesy-backsies now, Ari.”

    Behind Ilya’s back, Sella let out a deep sigh while rubbing her forehead in exasperation. It was clear that the prim and proper looking maid did not wholly approve of the situation at hand. Leysritt for her part gave Arwyn a thumbs up… while at the same time wiggling another wooden stick in her other hand. It was clear that the slightly airheaded maid had gotten completely the wrong idea about the situation.

    Or perhaps she was simply horrifyingly perceptive of the situation you had just gotten yourself into.

    Letting go of your hand, the young girl turned around and started to stride towards the still fighting Servants. If anything, the fight had intensified even further to the point where you were incapable of making out even the figures of the two clashing Heroic Spirits. A rain of lightning and thunder was all that was visible and somewhere in the middle of it, you could sense the presence of Saber. Not through your eyes or ears, but through a connection that felt as if it ran deeper than anything else you had ever felt.

    In the distance, you could hear a clap and Ilya’s youthful voice.

    “Right, right. Time to wrap up, you two.”




    The earth around Saber was exploding.

    With fluid motion more reminiscent of dance than actual combat, Saber weaved through the seemingly endless torrent of azure. The power of each singular bolt of electricity wasn’t much to speak about, but it was the quantity that was truly terrifying. More than enough to overwhelm most Heroic Spirits, no doubt. But to Saber’s eyes, it was too simplistic and founded on raw quantity. Too… straightforward. Compared to the exchange Saber had just had with Saver, the roaring thunder moved only in a straight line.

    And as you were now, something like that could never strike you.

    A nearby bolt struck the earth next to the sword maiden, propelling some half-molten fragments of the ground towards Saber at supersonic speeds. Not even bothering to glance at the incoming fragments, a single casual flourish of Saber’s blade shattered all of them en route, as the raven-haired swordswoman suddenly moved towards her target aiming to take advantage of the gap before the next wave of attacks. With a whoomp that signified the breaking of the sound barrier, Saber accelerated towards Saber, buffeting the entire charred clearing with violent winds.



    Saver barely managed to block your incoming blow in time with the butt of his engraved spear, stopping your blade a mere inch from his throat. The servant of salvation had a joyful, almost exuberant grin on his face the other end of the spear came up from below in an upwards swing, seemingly aiming to take advantage of Saber’s positioning!



    “Right, right. Time to wrap up, you two.”


    Only to be instantly stopped mid-air by the words of a young girl.

    Saver let out an exasperated, albeit filled with a hint of amusement, sigh as he lowered his spear and took a step back from Saber.



    “It would seem that while the fight between us remains inconclusive, your Master has lost the clash of wills. Not surprising, I suppose, cons...”

    Ilya’s eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion.

    “Hmmm… and why would you say that, Saver? Would you kindly explain what kind of a Master do you think I am?”

    As the teal-haired Saver suddenly fell into a spluttering of excuses, Ilya merely gave a huff and turned away from her Servant, leaving the thunder flinging Servant to rub his own hair in a rather sheepish fashion.

    Now facing the sword-wielding maiden, the ruby-eyed homunculus gave the Servant a rather cheery wave.

    “Nice to meet you, Saber. My name is Illyasviel von Einzbern. And this ungrateful guy...” The white-aired homunculi points towards the spear-wielding Servant, who simply shrugged his shoulders with a grin. “...is Saver.”



    “Pleased to be working with you!”

  9. #349
    好き! Kirby's Avatar
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    Saber of 『 』
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)
    Lee Valley Park

    I weave. Not through the storm, but the tempest. A raging firestorm lighting up the forest like the sun, molten earth and debris whipped up into the air, no inch of the glade spared from the torrent of lightning and flame. Trees uprooted, carbonizing and charring, sending streaks of fire screaming through the clearing. Like dodging droplets of rain that would kill on the barest touch.

    Like I said, child’s play.

    I make no strikes, weaving my way through the lances of lightning, watching him in the storm’s eye. Analyzing the movements, the trajectories. Calculating the outcomes. A thousand possibilities cross my mind. Reduce them to a hundred. To a dozen. How many steps can he take, can I take, to lead to this dance’s conclusion?

    One possibility remains.

    I act. I charge through the clearing, a bare gap in the storm of lightning. The barest fraction of a second. My sword screams. His lance begins to move. A blade to his throat. He’ll block it, of course. A seemingly weak spot for him to target, exposed. As planned, of course.

    I know what you will do.

    I can see it.

    Then, I’ll—

    “Right, right. Time to wrap up, you two.”


    We freeze, instantly. My blade at his throat. His, positioned to strike me from below. Our Game, cut short just before our climax. Dust settles, lightning flickers out.

    The forest’s still on fire, though.

    He lowers his blade, and I lower mine.

    “It would seem that while the fight between us remains inconclusive, your Master has lost the clash of wills. Not surprising, I suppose, cons...”
    “Hmmm… and why would you say that, Saver? Would you kindly explain what kind of a Master do you think I am?”
    I sigh. A little huff, a little grin. “You flatter me. I am a mere swordswoman, and nothing more. As I am, it would have been impossible for me to truly injure you in the first place.” Another sigh. “What a pity, though. It’s a first, but I wasn’t even able to take that eye of yours.”

    “I suppose the two of you had a little chat while we were busy? I had intended this to be his first lesson, a demonstration for him to watch, but he’d seemed distracted. I don’t know. I wasn’t listening much, but heard something about dogs.”

    “Well,” I say with a bow, “Then I’ll introduce ourselves. The Masters in this War have colors, no? Banners of one’s allegiance? Then I guess you could call us the— hmm… what are we, really? The Colorless? Now my Master, he may seem a little hard-headed, a little hopeless, but…”

    I smile. “We’ll be in your care.”
    Quote Originally Posted by Dullahan View Post
    there aren't enough gun emojis in the thousandfold trichiliocosm for this shit


    Linger: Complete. August, 1995. I met him. A branch off Part 3. Mikiya keeps his promise to meet Azaka, and meets again with that mysterious girl he once found in the rain.
    Shinkai: Set in the Edo period. DHO-centric. As mysterious figures gather in the city, a young woman unearths the dark secrets of the Asakami family.
    The Dollkeeper: A Fate side-story. The memoirs of the last tuner of the Einzberns. A record of the end of a family.
    Overcount 2030: Extra x Notes. A girl with no memories is found by a nameless soldier, and wakes up to a world of war.

  10. #350
    Berserker of Blue
    16th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)


    "There was no misunderstanding, girl."

    Whatever her thoughts were, whatever she might have wanted to give voice to, did not materialise. In their stead, the act that she had taken on became unfeigned. The mask of the Servant - the killer, the monster - that she had worn with such an ill fit on her face until that point slid into place with an ease that would have frightened her had she been conscious of it.

    The words that Berserker threw at the retreating Master's back were cold steel wrought into speech, the rime upon it unveiled enmity. In that moment, the one who spoke in the wake of the girl's declaration could not be considered anything other than an enemy.

    "You spoke of alliance and we would hear your terms, yet it seems that your grasp of negotiation is deficient to a degree not even your Servant can salvage. As it is, there was only a waste of our time."

    In the low light of the pub, there was no way for the luminescence that set her golden eyes aglow to go unnoticed.

    "A warning to you on whom advice would be wasted: do not tempt the Fate that cuts your thread of life."
    Last edited by Leftovers; December 11th, 2018 at 04:39 PM.

  11. #351
    焼け尽きた感情も Reiu's Avatar
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    Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)
    Lee Valley Park

    He stood.

    And so it was done. No takesy-backsies. Unbidden, a kindling of the smallest of smiles flickered to life on Arwyn's face, in reaction to those words—only for none other than the maids to see, with his new ally having already strided off to interrupt the titanic duel between the Servants.

    He was not quite able to make sense of what she had called him for a moment there…a nickname? In either case, that would be a question for later.

    …It may have been expected of one of his profession to desire to set out the terms of this partnership, as one ought with a proper contract. But no, this was different.

    Just as his pact with Saber was founded not in the words of contract exchanged, but in their peculiar meeting—along with all of the ensuing confusion and chaos—so he would choose to believe, that in the taking of his hand, rested the heart of this fledgling alliance with Illya.

    One chance encounter after another, each with its own nascent promise.

    —Perhaps, one could call it fate.
    Or…would it be arrogant for him to think so…?


    He gathered himself from his thoughts as he gingerly dusted off the snow from his coat and gave a nod of acknowledgement to Sella and Leysritt.

    Proper procedure to all things. He had already exchanged introductions with the two women, and Illya.


    There remained only one.


    “Then I'll introduce ourselves. The Masters in this War have colors, no? Banners of one’s allegiance? Then I guess you could call us the— hmm… what are we, really? The Colorless? Now my Master, he may seem a little hard-headed, a little hopeless, but…”

    …He stopped in his tracks. Hard-headed? No, that was…certainly not…not…not untrue, and yet it was the first time he had heard such a thing spoken aloud of him. He had always strived to uphold professionalism above all in the workplace, and in private life—insofar as he had one, at least—he had never spoken much of himself or his thoughts.

    For Saber, who had only met him scarcely half a day ago, to see that was surprising, to say the least, and it elicited a strange sheepishness in Arwyn.

    …He supposed he should give her demonstrations his full diligent attention come another time.


    Arwyn shook himself lightly, and took another step forward from where he had been standing…until he was face to face with the armored, spear-wielding Servant.

    He held out his hand lightly, but resolutely.


    “Arwyn Penrith. I am honored to make your acquaintance…Saver.”
    Last edited by Reiu; December 17th, 2018 at 10:03 PM.


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