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Thread: Fate/Reclamation (IC)

  1. #221
    good girl Katie's Avatar
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    Erika Kanzaki
    15th of December, 2004
    The House in Misty Village
    Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

    “Oh, it’s hamburgers. Sandwiches existed in your time, right? Kinda like that.” Natsuki also isn’t sure what to do when Caster awkwardly pauses, so other than her simple explanation, she begins putting food on the table somewhat silently. Maybe she thinks she’s being judged? Really, Natsuki being uncomfortable around new people…

    “Is something wrong, Caster?” I ask, though, as I suspect, the topic will probably be dodged for now. I glance at my own food, which looks good, at least. Natsuki even managed to dredge out fries from somewhere, so that’s a plus.


    Now that I think about it, this is a prime opportunity to let Caster vent out her curiosity, since it’s not like we have much else to do. I’m sure there’s still time to get everything I need prepared for our excursion, so it’s probably for the better if we explain all sorts of stuff she’s curious about in the modern era to the best of our ability. After all, Caster’s still probably the most educated person in the room, despite advancements in society. Any information we’d give her will probably end up being somehow useful.

    “Well, you should sit down. Besides, if there’s anything you want to ask, feel free to.” I motion for Caster to take a seat, putting on a smile. Food will get cold if she doesn’t move. “It’s better if you know more about the era you’re summoned in anyway. And us.”

    “Right,” Natsuki nods, before taking a messy bite out of her own burger. Good grief. She makes a big deal about not stepping on anyone’s toes and then acts like this…

    And so, we had a long conversation about pretty much nothing.
    [Feb/Wed/04|07:00:04] <Lianru> it's ok with each stalker call I feel like we get a little closer
    [Feb/Wed/04|07:00:06] <Lianru> never give up

    asians before testing week

  2. #222
    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)

    The black Mercedes glided smoothly through the streets of Enfield, whizzing past the dark alleyways and residential streets with an almost casual ease. There were people around, of course, even at this hour. A drunk student stumbling back from a night out. A couple of gruff looking guys shouting at each other in front of a large pub, clearly about to duke it out. All in all, though, it was about as empty as London was ever going to get. Though it did raise the question of how this “War” was going to be fought, considering that there was the constant chance of civilian interference. Were they simply going to kill everyone that managed to even get a glimpse of a Servant?

    Arwyn let out a sigh, as the S55 AMG turned left, heading further and further afield.

    Either way, you had other, more pressing, concerns at the moment.

    While normally you would have put on some music, something classical perhaps, this time your trip went by in complete silence. A feeling of tension filled your entire being, almost as if you were a chord of a violin stretched to your absolute limit. Perhaps Saber sensed your anxiety in a way. Or perhaps she was simply not in the mood for chatter. Either way, a couple of minutes later, you reached your destination, as you pulled into an empty parking lot.

    The Lee Valley Regional Park was a massive park complex, centered around the Lea river, one of the larger tributaries of the Thames. While normally one would expect it to be mostly riverside trails and what not, the reality was that the large, ten thousand acres, park housed almost every type of natural environment ranging from well maintained urban-style parkland to full-blown nature reserves and forested areas. All things considered, you were far more interested in the latter, rather than the former at the moment.

    The engine of the car turned off almost instantly, as Arwyn turned off the ignition and stepped outside into the orangeish hue of the streetlights illuminating the empty parking lot.

    Gendou Matou & Rider (White)
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    Thamesmead wasn’t quite what you had in mind when you thought of London if you were completely honest.

    Large, almost faceless estate buildings lined these streets, looking nothing like the elegant architecture of image of London painted in your mind’s eye. No doubt it all looked very modern thirty years ago, when most of the buildings here were built, but now? It had all dated far faster than the old Victorian-style housing it was meant to replace. It wasn’t all too bad, though. You did pass by some rather interesting shops on the way here, Nigerian, Chinese, and Vietnamese corner stores, to be precise. It did give the area a rather unique flavor to be sure, but…

    It still wasn’t particularly British, now was it?

    The streets lined by the large apartment buildings finally made way to the riverside, which you found to be a bit nicer. The few buildings that were around, such as the nearby riverboat rental, were clearly made to attract tourists and other people who were simply looking for a relaxing riverside walk. A small hand-carved sign in front of the rental had the words “See you in the Spring!” written into it in an elegant, yet rusticly charming fashion.

    This clear visitor-focused nature of the immediate area meant that the riverside itself was bordered by a rather nice looking and well-illuminated road, which could almost be described as “boulevard-esque”. And as you had learned already, even during your brief time in London, there were some people out and about. There were always people out and about in London, even at 2 AM on a rather insignificant Thamesmead riverside. In this case, the individuals about were a rather loud pair of semi-drunk twenty-something men on a distant park-bench. Though apparently not far enough for their chatter to not reach your ears, as you could clearly make out that the pair was engaged in a rather heated argument on different brands of… pickles? On the other side of the Thames, Gendou could only make out large warehouses and what appeared to be rather numerous stacks tall of shipping containers lined up on top of one another. Only a thin strip of grass, maybe three to four meters in width was all that could be considered to be the “riverside bank” on the other side.

    And then…

    An unbidden smile rose on unseen Rider’s face.

    The smile of a hunter that had found his prey.

    After all...

    Archer (Blue)
    15th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    The streets that Archer glided through looked desolate and dirty. Even to a Heroic Spirit such as himself, it was evidently clear that he had long ago left behind the “glamorous” parts of the city and made his way somewhere which was more “working class” in nature.

    The earlier parts of the area weren’t that bad, aesthetically. Traditional, English-style housing crammed together in a neat fashion. It was almost quaint in its own, albeit in an almost stereotypical way. But the closer the Heroic Spirit of the Bow actually got to the riverside, the more industrial his surroundings became. Warehouses, workshops, and various other industrial buildings littered the riverside. Using the knowledge provided by the Grail, the Heroic Spirit could easily read one of the nearby signs with the words “MIXIT” written on it in large gray-and-yellow letters. Apparently, the large steel and concrete complex that lay behind the sign was the “Premier provider of ready-to-mix concrete in Britan!”.

    Despite the bold words, one could not shake the almost overwhelming atmosphere of desolation, dirt, and decay that filled the entire industrial area. Most businesses and buildings in the area looked like they had seen far better days than the ones that were upon them now and abandoned buildings littered the waterfront. Phasing through one of the gates led Archer into a what could only be described as a labyrinth of shipping containers stacked far higher than any man (or ten for that matter). Not really an obstacle for a Heroic Spirit that could, at will, transition into the form of a spirit, but no doubt one that would prove exceptionally difficult for normal people to bypass. In fact, access to the entire waterfront from this side of the Thames was almost completely blocked off by walls or other obstacles, with the clearest vector of approach for non-Servants probably being from the East side of the area, where the industrial complex into what looked to be an empty development project.

    The bowman of the Blue faction easily phased through the last of the containers, reaching the riverside and finally catching glimpse of the leyline point underneath the Thames itself.

    The other side of the bank looked far nicer. A small nicely lit riverside road snaked around the bank of the Thames, littered with small buildings and park benches. Only a few individuals were around. Archer could only make out a pair of men on a bench a distance off and a blue-haired man in a leather jacket who, after finishing his the final vestiges of his cigarette, chucked the smoldering cigarette butt into the Thames with a casual arc.

    And then…

    All of Archer’s senses suddenly kicked into overdrive.

    A glint of steely resolve flickered in the eyes of the man who was willing to put everything on the line for his wish.

    After all...

    After all...

    At this moment, almost by pure chance, the two Heroic Spirits had found the enemy they had been looking for.

    Last edited by Mellon; Yesterday at 04:45 PM.

  3. #223
    Assassin of White
    15th of December, 2004
    Himitsu to Hanazono “Akechi’s Apartment Complex”
    Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

    "ThEn I sHaLL mAkE pRepaRatiOns FOrTiFyinG tHis LocATioN aNd sEcuRiNg tHe iMMediAte ViCiniTy."

    Assassin nodded in affirmation. The most important thing right now was to secure the base of operations and it was something she could do while her Master was attending the last of her business before the War. She gazed at the map, noting important landmarks and the general layout of the city before committing it to memory.

    "GaTheRiNg inTel aNd aSSeSSiNg yOuR rEsOurCes iS a wiSe dEcisiOn. ALthOugH...I fiNd hOw diSoRgAniZed yOu aNd yOuR aLLieS sEEm tO bE oBjecTioNaL. IsN't tHis sUppOsed tO bE a wAr?" She turned and gave a slight sigh. Was it a side effect of these magi being so secretive that they refused to cooperate and share information in non-roundabout ways? This must be a challenge from Allah, a lesson to teach her something.

    "ThErE iS oNe LaSt tHinG I aSk oF yOu."

    Assassin turned back around the face Akechi and stretched to her full height, towering over the magus, before bending down slightly so their eyes met. Her gaze burrowed deep into Akechi's soul.

    "ThE gRaiL iS aN aRTiFaCt oF iMMenSe PoWeR. WiTh iT yOu CouLd aTTaiN aNy wiSH bEyoNd yOur WiLdeSt dReAms. WhAt iS iT tHat yOu aRe fiGhtiNg fOr, tHat yOu wOuLd coMMit yOurSeLF tO sUcH aN uNdeRTakiNg, aNd hOw fAr aRe yOu wiLLiNg tO gO? AnSwer Me
    aNd oNLy tHen wiLL I aCCept yOu aS mY mAsTeR."
    <@Airen> I play hetero every once in awhile

    [12:21.40] <frantic> that might be a top tier post
    [12:21.45] <snax> frantic
    [12:21.47] <frantic> post of the month, even
    [12:21.48] <snax> this right here
    [12:21.49] <snax> is MC
    [12:21.56] <snax> johnny has nothing on this dude
    [12:22.00] <frantic> he's the MC of the nisio half
    [12:22.12] <snax> so wait
    [12:22.15] <frantic> [ ] is, after all, my rival character
    [12:22.16] <snax> am i the gag heroine
    [12:22.20] <frantic> yes

  4. #224
    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

    Snowfall. A silent scene of nature, a rare respite in the city, blanketed in white—an also altogether rare occurrence for London. Together, the scenery betrayed no sense of the decidedly gray city he knew, but rather, reminded Arwyn of someplace else.

    Somewhere distant in his memory,
    far to the north from here, years in the past from now—

    As his own breaths came out in white mist before him, he tries to shake the thought from his mind.

    Now, of all times, was not the time to reminisce of what had so long ago been called home.

    After all…

    He composed himself, and went silently to retrieve from the boot of the car the reason for their excursion here, a place that was almost guaranteed to be deserted of people at this hour, and secluded. An ideal location, for this.

    It was heavy. Of course it was.

    —After all, it had once been the weight of a man.

    Ignoring both the signals of residual pain his left arm was sending, and the stinging feeling in his chest as he hefted the travel bag, Arwyn locked the car.

    “It’s not too cold for you, is it?” he murmurs, his gaze averted from Saber.

    Her new wardrobe didn’t lack for overcoats; he may have bought somewhat too much of everything, out of fear she wouldn’t take to some of them (despite Saber's stated lack of preference, one couldn’t be too careful). Still, he had no idea whether she was used to this climate, wherever distant land in the past she hailed from.

    Then again, did Servants even have that problem?

    He had made an effort to take in as best he could the information in the book given to him by Father Kotomine, with the afternoon’s outing complete, but nowhere did it mention anything of Servants' sensitivity to temperature.

    Or perhaps he simply did not recall. With the day’s task weighing on his mind the whole time, he couldn’t much judge how successful he was at in processing all the information.

    ”This will do, yes. I’m not quite used to this sort of attire, but it’s what I’d imagine what a Northerner would wear. This kind of weather is new to me.”

    Saber's answer was received with a small nod. Hopefully acclimating wouldn't prove too much of an issue for her, but it appeared to be fine for now, at least.

    Refreshing his memory on the layout of the park he had looked up earlier, Arwyn makes for an isolated area of the vast grounds, far removed from any trail.

    The metal weight of a new acquisition lay concealed in his coat pocket.

  5. #225
    闇色の六王権 The Dark Six Mellon's Avatar
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    Aila Einzbern & Caster (White)
    16th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    The Science Museum itself was a large and rather old-looking building, its facade composed of beige bricks and littered with classical-looking pillar motifs. A bizarre contradiction to be sure, to house the relics that overturned the past in a building so ancient-looking, but that was London in a nutshell, you supposed. People desperately trying to find relevance to old traditions in a world that seemingly cared less and less.

    Even from the outside of the building, you could feel it. A bizarre kind of shimmer that ran throughout the entire air of this place. Whatever the appearances the Museum put on the outside, it was clearly not welcoming of those working with supernatural arts. Chills ran across your back. Not because of fear or any other emotion, but simply due to the discomfort that your magic circuits were under. All these items that were purposely made to pierce the “veil of mystery” had seemingly gained a power all of their own, from the looks of it. One that went completely against the mindset of magi who spent their lives actualizing the mysteries of the past.

    You had no idea whether Caster felt it more strongly due to being even more a product of the past, or less due to her strength as a Heroic Spirit. Not that you could really tell with her being in Spirit Form. Either way, your two other, more corporeal, companions weren’t quite as unreadable. Lapis was clearly on the edge, unnerved by the museum itself, her arms drawn closer to her body, almost instinctually. The anti-mystery nature of this place clearly had a more significant effect on your erstwhile butler than it did on you. Ushabti, meanwhile…. Well, ever since first laying his eyes on Caster, his behavior had been simply plain weird. His normally biting commentary had almost vanished, and the tanned man was seemingly a perfect image of a gentleman. Polite, well mannered, and all-in-all the perfect image of servitude. Honestly, this shift in the normally abrasive man's personality was probably even weirder than the oppressive atmosphere of the Science Museum.

    Lapis let out a slight shiver.

    “Milady, is this truly a good idea? The spiritual environment of this place...”

    Her words were suddenly interrupted by the front door of the museum which swung open, revealing the presence of a rather pudgy-looking security guard. The beam of light emitting from his flashlight swung wildly about, trying to find something (or more likely something) to illuminate in the darkness of the empty museum parking lot. Judging from his stature and body language though… not really the bravest man you had ever laid your eyes on. In fact, the erratic movements of his flashlight were more likely a gesture to scare off any potential intruders, rather than born from any actual desire to confront any interlopers.

    “W...Who goes there?”

    Freogan Deofolgeat & Berserker (Blue)
    16th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    Ol’ Isleworth was one of the “respected” parts of London. Bloody toffs, the lot of them. While the past couple of decades had markedly changed the appearance of the district, a couple of high-rise apartment buildings hardly wiped away the rather suburban-esque look of the district itself. After all, the prime attraction to this part of town were its numerous “picturesque” 18th and 19th-century mansions, built by various local lordlings and other rich folks. And there was literally nothing to do in this neck of the woods. No concerts, no proper pubs. Truly, an area that really didn’t mesh with Freogan’s sense of aesthetics. Though, considering the prevalent aesthetic sense of many of his colleagues and the society he had chosen to be a part of, these were the types of environments the brash magus was often forced to tread.

    Besides, it was ruddy cold outside.

    Not that the Heroic Spirit next to him seemed to mind. Did Heroic Spirits even feel the drop in temperature? Not when they were incorporeal, that’s for sure. Spirits sensed fluctuations in spiritual energy. Not temperature or smell. How could they? Senses like that were fundamentally linked to the presence of a “body”. Something that spirits were typically lacking. Although that rule, along with many others had evidently easily smashed by this ludicrous ritual.

    The Lion Wharf Road opened up, revealing the banks of the Thames in the distance. And your goal along with it. The Isleworth Ait wasn't really anything special if Freogan was completely honest. It was neither particularly large nor even unique as an islet. An island would be too grandiose a term in this case. However, its true uniqueness really came from its location. In London, it was probably one of the only patches of truly unrestrained nature. Oh, there was Lee Valley to the north, but even that was largely maintained and at least somewhat maintained. The Ait though… due to its nature as a wildlife reserve (you heard that over fifty species of birds lived on this small speck of land), it was only visited by some occasional volunteers and no one else.

    An untouched tiny slice of natural land in the middle of eight million souls.

    Now if only you could find some way to get over to that bloody natural wonderland, for you sure as hell weren’t up for a swim in the Thames.

    Last edited by Mellon; Yesterday at 04:41 PM.

  6. #226
    Roleplay PTSD Verg Avesta's Avatar
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    Freogan Deofolgeat
    16th of December, 2004
    Night (Phase 1-3)

    "Better watch your steps. Even the ponces around here like to redecorate the pavement when staggering home in the wee hours of the morning."

    That was yet another comment from Freogan, who cracked open his third beer for the night (Tetley's Smooth Flow draught, bitter) and took a huge swig, letting out an audible burp that echoed in the narrow street. His comment wasn't exactly wrong just a second or two after he had said it, the pale cone of the streetlight revealed what must've been some local pub-goer's lunch, vomited up all over the sidewalk. Of course it wasn't as if it could really bother a Servant in their spirit form but... perhaps it had been courtesy, nonetheless? Or then, despite what he said, the alcohol was slowly starting to get to Freogan.

    "Bloody lighter...! C'mon, work already, you piece of shit..."

    It was hard to tell, all things considered.

    Lighting up yet another cigarette, Freogan was well on his way in going through his pack of Lucky Bastard-branded rolls of death. Indeed, once he had left Alexandra's office, he had tended to light one up whenever he had the moment. Others might have called it a way to deal with stress, but that clearly wasn't the case. Every minute spent inside the stuffy offices and corridors of the Clock Tower had shown the man to be as ornery and foul-mooded as ever. How exactly one could be so spiteful yet stop to talk with every student that greeted him, asking about their studies and if they were doing fine, was a question for the ages.

    It was not until Freogan finally got back to the streets of London that he seemed to almost throw off that scowling spirit of his. His facial muscles eased up, his back straightened slightly and his mouth was no longer a thin line ready to spew insults. Instead he took the atmosphere of the dirty streets in with a deep breath, like an animal let out of his cage. Animal that then began to roam the streets of the city, heading slowly towards their target while explaining the local sights and places to Berserker. It was less of a tactical overview and more of a, well, a local guy showing the city to the new face they met. Even if said 'local guy' bee-lined to buy beer and cigarettes the moment he got out of the said cage.

    And speaking of cages...

    "Coming outta my cage and I've been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all! It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss~"

    Snapping back to reality, there was no mistaking it. Freogan was, for some reason, singing a tune quietly as he approached the very end of the Lion Wharf Road, letting his eyes take in the sight of the White Lion Court building, now no more than empty office place for sale. From there his eyes ended up staring at the dirty, murky depths of Thames flowing past them and Isleworth Ait that lay there, on the other side, so close yet quite far. Freogan took another drag from his cigarette and leaned against the railing, enjoying the brisk night breeze that flew in from somewhere in the east.

    "Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, chocking on your alibis, but it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling, open up my eager eyes~!"

    Whatever the song he was singing under his breath was, perhaps the most surprising thing about this was that Freogan, in all honesty, had a voice that was clearly accustomed to singing. It wasn't smooth like silk or technical marvel, but there was no doubt that Freogan had sung numerous times in past. Maybe not songs like this, but something, that much was certain.

    "Well, there's the bloody spot of land."

    Stopping his song short, Freogan gulped down the rest of his beer with one smooth move and tossed the can behind him. He gestured towards the dark, almost black-and-brown, river that flowed not ten meters from there. On the other side of it was almost impenetrable wall of wood that seemed very out of place in this day and age, especially in the middle of a city such as London. While an odd sight, there seemed to be nothing too suspicious about it... well, not unless you were a magus. And despite being dressed in beaten up leather jacket, smoking and drinking and cursing like a thug, and singing songs that were rather uncouth... Freogan was a magus?

    The line blurred the more time one spent with him.

    "Anyways, nothing much else to see here. There's a good Chinese place I know not far from here, but hell if I'm going to walk there now. My legs are sodding sore, I tell you," Freogan grumbled as he brought his cigarette to his lips another time. "What else... well, the King's Observatory is on the other side, just stone's throw away. I guess some tossers think it's neat. I don't."

    To demonstrate, Freogan picked up a pebble from the asphalt and flung it towards Isleworth Ait. The pebble in question fell straight into Thames without even getting close to its target.

    "Urgh, anyway, that there's our target. Looks like nothing's cocked up around here yet, but you never know, so..." Freogan motioned the empty air to follow him. "Plus I'm gonna need a sodding boat to get there. Ain't no way I'm risking my arse swimming across that pit of shit some of these wankers call Thames."

    Freogan practically skipped a step as he stood back up and headed up the wharf, on the small stone-paved path that connected the ends of Lion Wharf Road and Swan Street. There, at the end of this small path, one could see the inviting lights of a light-grey brick building and its wooden veranda, where some people were still chatting. After all, for the night owls of London, the evening was far from over though the date may have changed. A wooden plaque hung from the old lamppost at the corner of the building, reading "Town Wharf Pub". In other words, it was an establishment serving alcohol and food.

    ... And it was exactly where Freogan headed.

    "Alright alright, two pints for me and my date here," Freogan grunted at the waitress he passed, serving drinks at the veranda. He let his eyes take in the place and then chose a spot near the corner of the wooden platform, where they'd have a perfect view of the island. "And throw in some fish and chips, would you love? All this walking's making me peckish."

    Although confused by Freogan ordering for two, yet being alone, the waitress disappeared back inside. The blonde man on the other hand, sat down on the wooden bench and finished up his cigarette... by using it to light up another one. He leaned his elbows against the table, drumming an excited beat against the railing with his fingers. Those blue eyes of his scanned the shoreline of Isleworth Ait... before suddenly adopting a somewhat annoyed expression and looking back towards the empty air behind him.

    "Make yourself visible already. It feels like I'm chatting up empty air," he grumbled at Berserker. "Not to mention ain't no way you can enjoy that pint without proper stomach for it to fill."

    A slightly inebriated-looking grin played on Freogan's face.
    Last edited by Verg Avesta; Yesterday at 11:25 PM.

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