[FF] After the Fall (Type-Moon)

[Trevelyan]

But if you insult me, am I not justified in acting like a dick, by your own lights? Where does the cycle of hatred stop, Mike? ;_;

[Mike1984]

I dunno, but you were insulting me before I insulted you, so....

And, I'm quite happy to make up with people who I've had arguments with, as long as they stop going around attacking me at every opportunity....

[Hymn of Ragnarok]

Right, both of you take to VMs or PMs. You are derailing the thread. Enough.

[Kieran]

Hmm, what's happened to Shirou and Sakura in this one?

To re-rail it (so to speak) - by the scale RanmaBushiko devised, she's got about 15 000 years to go.

[Mike1984]

To re-rail it (so to speak) - by the scale RanmaBushiko devised, she's got about 15 000 years to go.

Really?

How does that work...?

[Kieran]

The original epilogue said that she would need roughly 50 000 years to acquire enough strength to regain her human form, and this is set 35 000 years after that. Plus, since my snippet is running parallel to the Darksiders games, time-wise (meaning that the events of those games are occurring at the same time), War canonically requires Ruin's horse form to accomplish certain objectives. Ergo, I can't let her be human yet, so . . . *shrug*

Which is not to say that the Ark might not be able to help - if it contains the ability to reset things to their original state, then it might be of use in restoring Sakura, as well.

[Mike1984]

Ah, OK, that makes sense.

Although, I think that Ramno's original idea was that Sakura would gain a human form, but still be able to turn into a horse if necessary. You'd have to check with him, though....

[TheAbsolutistsCreed]

The loli war is starting prepare the anti-explosive bunkers and nests of anti-loli weaponry just in case!

Also Lockhart can be removed by simply tieing him up and mailing him to South Africa. I am sure all the deadly and poisonious(sp?) beasts, insects, plants, etc would love to kill him.

Try Ebola, if anyone deserves that gruesomeness, then he does! > : )

[Kieran]

. . . Wow, that takes me back.

[Kieran]

Consciousness comes back to me slowly. I’m used to passing out - one of the drawbacks of having a weak constitution - but this is different. It’s darker, somehow - deeper. Maybe I was drunk, last night? My memory offers no answers. Whatever I was doing remains in the darkness, while I head towards the light. After a few deep breaths, I open my eyes . . . and discover that my nightmare is just beginning.

The predominant colour in my sight is red. Blood red, by virtue of there being so much of it, the bed should be floating away on it. It’s spread under me like a blanket of vermillion, staining half my body. But it’s not just blood. Chunks of meat are scattered over the pool, like an offering of bread crumbs, and I stare stupidly at them, counting seventeen, before I realise that this was once a human being.

My stomach heaves, but there’s nothing in it to bring up - a poor consolation. Because when I catch a glint of gold among the detritus, I want to throw up. Because I know now, who this was. She was in my office only yesterday . . .





“Arcueid Brunestud,” I repeat, tasting the foreign flavour of her name. “Nordic?”

“Something like that,” the lady replied. It was difficult to get a read on her - one minute she’d be serious, and then switch to a more frivolous mood. She smiled suddenly, and I realised she was back to frivolous again. She leaned in closer, giving me a good look at her decolletage - and it was definitely worth looking at.“You can call me ‘Arc,’ if it’s easier.”

“And I’m Shiki,” I offered, just to be polite.

Her smile brightened another few watts. If she got any sunnier, I’d start tanning. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. So, what brings you here?”

“I’d like to employ you as my shield.”

I blinked. She didn’t have a noticeable accent, but her idioms needed work. “What?”

She came at it from a different angle. “There is a man . . . A man who is following me. I need protection.”

“The police are better equipped for that sort of thing. I have a friend - “

Arcueid shook her head. “No. No police. No reporters. I want this done quietly, discreetly. Can you handle it?”

I considered it. I knew enough about bodyguard work to know that it wasn’t specialised, exactly, but I’d never done it before. It’s not a PI’s normal schtick. Then again, it was work, and the clients weren’t knocking down my door, lately.

I shrugged. “Probably, if you can handle my rates.”

I quoted her a price. She said that was reasonable, and we let it go at that. She told me where she was staying, and I said as soon as I’d told my secretary and gathered some equipment, we could go.

“I don’t trust her,” my secretary opined. “You shouldn’t take this case.”

“If I didn’t do the things I shouldn’t, Hisui, then I’d never do anything at all,” I told her with a grin.





Now I wish I’d listened to Hisui - especially when the thing that drags me out of my memories is a pounding on the door.

“Misaki P.D.!” cries a female voice. And worse, it’s a familiar one. Detective Ciel is one of the department’s top homicide investigators, and absolutely relentless. If she gets even a hint that I’m here, I’m as good as locked away - and if I somehow manage to escape without getting caught, she’ll hunt me down with all the enthusiasm of a dog after a cat. There’s no good way for this to end . . .





Writer's Notes: And that's all I have. I sort of have an idea for the identity of the culprit/end, but not much else.

[RanmaBushiko]

Prologue



Approximately 15 million, 35 000 years later








"Treason?!"

The word erupted from three astonished throats, followed by a singular one's statement. "Don't be absurd."

"It's possible," countered an echoing voice, emerging as it did from behind a metal mask that hid all but eyes like golden flames. "The balance between Heaven and Hell is exceedingly close. If it meant ensuring that the world wouldn't fall to the dark . . . Do you really think, in all these centuries, that the possibility hasn't crossed his mind?"

"Not once," the pale, emaciated man replied. "Not again . . . And I'm going to prove it."

"How?"

"I'm not sure yet," he admitted, "but I'll start with undoing the damage - and reviving the human race."

He stormed out, with Fury close behind, calling after him. "Shiki, wait!" For a moment, the last of the three stared after the pair, before shaking his head slightly.

". . . Idiot. Even if you do manage to revive the humans, where are you going to put them? Earth's a smoking cinder!"

The Horseman known as Strife sighed. One would think that as the youngest of the Horsemen (so far as they could determine, anyway), he would be the reckless and impulsive one - and to be fair, he had his share of those moments - but more often than not, he was the one who came up with the strategies and plans that kept them alive when simply bulling through obstacles didn't work. Although, again, to be fair, there weren't too many of those times. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, singly or together, represented one of the most powerful forces in existence -

. . . And suddenly, the Rider of Strife wondered if that was the reason for all this. Divide and conquer, after all, was one of the oldest strategies going. With War on Earth, Death heading for the Nether Realms, and Fury not far behind him, as she usually was, the Horsemen were more vulnerable now than at almost any point in time - and with them, the Charred Council.

Grimacing behind his mask, Strife considered what he could do about the possibility, and reluctantly came up with "nothing." The Council wouldn't permit him to interfere in War's mission, or even set foot on Earth, so long as the Seals remained unbroken. Death's own crusade might be tolerated, but for his brethren's sake, it would be better not to bring it to the Council's attention until it was completed. Which meant that he couldn't warn the Council to beware an attack, and brought him back to the original problem: finding a way to restore not merely humanity, but Earth.

The supernatural gunslinger headed for his mount, the white horse Misery. He had knowledge to acquire, from any number of possible sources, which would require him to journey into the furthest and most dangerous regions of the cosmos - and all the while, with the awareness that there was a target on his back . . .

Strife smirked under his mask. Finally - something fun to do.

Misery, like all the Demonic Horses the Riders used, was both swift and enduring. The White Horse could gallop for leagues, or hours, before succumbing to fatigue. This was an excellent trait to have, because Strife's current destination was hidden far beyond the reach - or knowledge - of most powers. Indeed, its existence was widely believed to be a myth, considering how long ago it had fallen . . . And for immortal beings, that was a very long time, indeed. But Strife was nothing if not persistent, and in his role as the tactician of the Horsemen, he made it a point to keep himself well-informed. As such, he knew the truth behind the myth, as perhaps only one other in all existence did - and that, because the latter being was the one who had hidden it in the first place.

The structure was a crumbling ruin of stone and dust, surrounded by an empty plain of sand. Compared to its original state, a thing of abundant and various greenery, populated by any number of species of animals, this blighted remnant was enough to break the heart of any being with even a hint of compassion - a quality that Strife had never been noted for. Perhaps it had been different, in the past, but he could not remember . . . The Horseman shook his head. Unlike his brethren, he had no memories of his past existence, in the time before the Council had charged him with his new name and nature. There was a sense of familiarity to his fellow Horsemen, implying that he had known them in that ancient time, but it had never been anything he could clarify - nor they, for him.

It was one reason he'd sought this place, for the prize it contained, and what it might be able to tell him of his past. And now, he was about to employ it for a different reason entirely, with the knowledge that he would likely only ever have one chance at this. But it was necessary, if Death was to succeed, and clear their brother's name . . . Suppressing a sigh behind the bone-white mask he wore, Strife dismounted from his steed, and walked into the ruins of Eden, towards his goal: the Tree of Knowledge.






The visions assail him:




Lightning flares through his chest, leaving a deepening chill in his wake. The wound is fatal, but he is not quite dead. He has time enough to try to raise his gun, to shoot before he disintegrates fully.

He lets it fall from his nerveless hand instead. Staring at Saber’s injured shoulder, knowing that he’d prevented her from achieving a flawless victory, he was content to fall . . . If he could only learn . . .

“How . . .?” He forces the question out, extinguishing nearly all the air left in his damaged lungs. “You - know . . .”

Her eyes are darkly serious, and he forces himself to concentrate on them, to hold on until he can hear her answer,

“I know that you are not an Epic Spirit,” Saber agrees. “However, I believe that for what you have tried to accomplish, what you have chosen to do, and why - you are a hero.”

And as he knew it would, her will overrode his own, but to banish his doubts instead of confirming them, allowing his Noble Phantasm to give him a fighting chance. It’s the finest compliment he’s ever received, and even if he was capable of answering it, he could not. But it does not matter, for life is nearly gone, and the world is darkening. The last thing he hears is Saber’s voice.

“Rest now, warrior. I will finish the task you have begun.”

The rest is silence . . .





"Why should the humans be given Eden?" she asks, and Absalom has no answer. In fact, it is possible that he is incapable of answering the question, even if an answer occurs to him. The beauty of the vision before him is such that even thought, let alone speech, is beyond him. As was intended - for she, above all, knows how to use her beauty as a weapon.

"The Nephilim deserve such a paradise more than they do," she whispers, her voice pitched to persuade, to seduce. "You are far greater than the humans will ever be. Prove it - to yourself, and to me. Gather your people, that they might rise - and take Eden for their own!"

Absalom nods, sealing the fate of their kind to extinction - save for four. But such is the power of Lilith that the Nephilim had no chance against her, for she can seduce even angels to do her bidding . . .




The world is gone. Forty days and forty nights of rains have drowned all that lived, and destroyed many elements, save for a precious few, those that were preserved within -




"The Ark," Strife whispered, as the Tree released him. Of course - the Ark would hold the beginnings of a new world, a restored world, if it could but be found. Now, at least, he had a way to achieve what he sought, if he could only locate it . . . And potentially, an enemy - why else would it show him Lilith, if her hand was not somewhere in these events?

. . . But what of the first vision? What was it? And why did it seem - familiar . . .?

The Horseman shook his head. At the moment, it was irrelevant. Certainly it was now, in the face of what needed to be done. He had a planet to save . . .

Strife wondered, briefly, at the odd sense of deja vu.

Damn. Just... damn. Sorry for the thread Necro, but I haven't been here on the forum for a while now. This... Kieran, looks badass.

You've taken the epilogue, and done WONDERFUL things to it, for a plot. If you want to do a joint author project for this... hit me up. I'd gladly write it with you.

[Kieran]

Damn. Just... damn. Sorry for the thread Necro, but I haven't been here on the forum for a while now. This... Kieran, looks badass.

No need to apologise - I've been waiting to see what you think of it. Glad you like it.

You've taken the epilogue, and done WONDERFUL things to it, for a plot.

I just re-read what you wrote, re-read my own comments, and took what I knew of both the first and second games' plots. They think War started Armageddon? Fine, I could see Shirou - at least, as Archer - doing it, so the belief, while unlikely, is reasonable. Death wants to revive the humans? Fine - but that doesn't restore the planet, and isn't it interesting that at least two of the Horsemen are now isolated . . .?

Finding out that Lilith actually existed in the Darksiders universe - and that she was implied to be behind the scenes for the overall scheme - was just icing on the cake.

If you want to do a joint author project for this... hit me up. I'd gladly write it with you.

It is tempting, isn't it?

I'm at a bit of a loss for where to go from here - and my record of collaborations isn't the best - but if you have ideas, let me know. Maybe we can work something out.

(. . . I just can't shake the idea of Strife facing off against Laharl as a Baal-type demon overlord - huge and massively powerful, after tens of thousands of years - and gaining a sword, or other power, out of it.)

[Kieran]

Hogwarts Castle, The Fringe








Kieran frowned as he observed the scene in the Moon Mirror. It appeared that one of his particular favourites was due for a rather substantial change in the near-future, coming under the auspices of a different divine power altogether - although which one was a matter of some debate. There was Wepwawet, the wolf-headed Egyptian god who functioned something like a D&D ranger under the pharaoh's command, and Ogma, the Celtic god of writing who was also an ancient war deity, as well as Johnny Canuck, the manifestation of the spirit of Canada.

They were a varied bunch, to be sure, and Kieran wasn't certain which one he preferred - or else he'd nudge the mortal to make the appropriate choice. He supposed the best way to determine that was to simulate what would happen in the Moon Mirror with each selection. He'd start with the Celt, as a courtesy to a fellow deity of literature - and he knew exactly which scenario to use. He wouldn't start from the beginning, though - it had been done too many times already. And besides, the mortal's profession, of sorts, was going to be "monster slayer," so why not have him face a monster?








June, 1993








Usually, when the Grail Works travelled, they did so through Doors provided by Ilya - nice, smooth interdimensional crossings that caused neither fuss nor muss. Therefore, exploding out of flames into the centre of a circle of standing stones came as something of a shock to Kurai - as did the presence of another within said circle.

". . . Luna Lovegood?" he ventured tentatively. It looked like her - though smaller than he'd ever seen the actress who played her. Luna also had never wept, that he'd ever encountered before, but those were definitely tears.

"Thank the Good Folk!" she cried. "Please - you have to save Ginny!"

Kurai blinked. She'd invoked the Aes Sidhe? Well, given his nature, it might not be surprising that the Seelie Court (or the Unseelie, for that matter) might transport him here - they were connected, after a fashion - and Luna was the sort of person who would invoke them, if anyone in the Potterverse would . . . Then he realised what Luna had said, and made a guess.

"Has Miss Weasley been taken to the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked gently. A wide-eyed, frightened nod answered, and he said, "Don't worry, Luna Lovegood - Harry will save her."

Luna blinked. "Who's 'Harry?'"

"Harry Potter?" Kurai ventured uneasily.

"I'm sorry," Luna said sincerely, "I don't know who that is."

OK, Kurai thought, you can start worrying now.








While many of the Tuatha de Danaan - the Celtic pantheon - had an affinity for animals, Ogma was not one of them. This, sadly, meant that Kurai couldn't give himself a rooster's crow in order to kill the basilisk easily. And while he did have a knack for picking up languages quickly, Parseltongue was mystical in nature, rather than physical. This meant that even getting into the Chamber of Secrets would be hard . . . But not as hard as it might be if he hadn't had Topaz. Daggers that could cut through pretty much anything meant carving through the floor to expose the pipe beneath was easy, if a bit time-consuming - and he was strong enough to lift it out of the way.

Now, it's just a question of whether Luna will come back in time.

Kurai's first plan was simple. Ginny had killed of Hagrid's birds - but surely, a professor that could turn a desk into a pig could turn something into a rooster. Still, time counted, so he'd have to go without if she wasn't able to convince McGonagall and come back soon . . .

Damn.

Seeing no help for it, Kurai dove down the pipe to land solidly on his feet - thank you, supernatural balance - and walk to the next entrance. A quick pass of Topaz sliced all the heads off the carved serpents (he wasn't betting they weren't a security system), and then Kurai prepared to open the door. Once again, he couldn't just command it to open, and the door was probably too thick for Topaz to penetrate fully, but he was probably strong enough to batter it down.

*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*

Yup, he was.

"Who are you?" demanded the shade of Tom Riddle.

Ogma's patronage granted Kurai supernaturally-enhanced strength, as befit a war deity, and supernaturally-enhanced intelligence, as befit a god of learning. The third major trait he possessed, however, was supernaturally-enhanced dexterity. As a result, Topaz was already flying before the sentence had finished leaving the spirit's mouth, and severed his spine by going through his Adam's apple. The way he sagged proved Kurai's theory - if Riddle was solid enough to hold a wand and cast spells, he was solid enough to bleed . . . And that left the diary.

A thought called Topaz back to his hand, and a few punches gouged chunks out of the bust of Slytherin - but not fast enough for his liking.

"Damn," he muttered. "I suppose I ought to have let him call out the basilisk, first."

[B.B. Rain]

If the Topaz daggers can cut through anything, could they cut through the diary, damaging the magics? It wouldn't be as thoroughly destructive as Basilisk venom, but damaging/destroying/shattering the physical anchor should allow the soul-portion of the Horcrux to dissipate and pass on, I'd assume.

Or you could use that idea as a way for things to go horribly, horribly wrong, given your tendency to screw over characters who try to be too clever...

[Kieran]

Which is even more fun when the character is super-intelligent!

So, is the Celtic-style Kurai to your liking, or should I go for one of the others? There's a little more detail on what they'd each be like here.

[B.B. Rain]

To be honest, beyond the references & abilities changing from D&D to Celtic, I didn't see much difference...So I guess I'd say I don't dislike this version compared to the depiction in Beast of the Moon, which I like well enough, same as the meta-character expressions in Galen, Avenger, and Jester.

I haven't really been following the Grail Works Dossier thread, and my grounding in mythology (either in general, or the specifics [Celtic/Egyptian/D&D]) aren't the best, so I'm not really prepared to form a preference based on just the post you linked too. If there were clear differences in similar snippets for Canadian!Kurai and Egyptian!Kurai, then I might have one, but 'not disliking this,' is all I'm able to express right now.

[Kieran]

Fair enough. The main difference (aside from the virtues thing, which probably will affect his personality) would be the range of powers.

The Celtic one is the most grounded, because I'm pulling stuff right out of the game I'm using as a framework - it's all official material. And as a bonus, I have access to the full range of environments and enemies he'll be dealing with. Under Ogma, Kurai will be stronger, faster, and smarter, with a few minor mystical abilities. He'll also be more reckless, and likely under a geas or two, because it's in the nature of Celtic heroes to be so.

As the Egyptian variant, Kurai will be more agile, with sharper senses - including the ability to see ghosts, and speak to wolves. He's probably closest to Kieran Holt (the current version) in attitude, but he'll also be fairly inflexible, since the Egyptian pantheon is regarded as the most hidebound and traditionalist. In terms of original work, I have to stat Wepwawet, but that's about it. Kurai will also not be journeying to the Egyptian version of heaven or the land of the dead (which, as a Celt, he could, since I have the descriptions).

The Canadian variant I have to make up out of whole cloth - associated environments, enemies, all of it. He'll be tougher, and more charismatic, which will help - but in general, this is the version I refer to as "the right blend of power, potential, and uselessness." He's got some talents, but not the kind that will make him a combat monster, or a genuine threat, without a lot of work - his primary "super powers" are an immunity to cold and the ability to talk to beavers. At the same time, this version will be fairly relaxed, easy-going, and polite - but his patron's lack of an official status among some of the more "established" gods could get him into trouble . . .

As you can see, each version has its advantages and disadvantages, story-wise. I'm leaning towards either Celtic or Canadian, and the general consensus has been that I should go with Canadian - but the others are a temptation.

[Incarnite Azurnum]

My GP is going towards Canadian. It seems the most annoying interesting option for Kurai.

Though Celt is fine too.

[Kieran]

That seems to be the general consensus - though the one snippet I did introducing Wepwawet garnered a positive response, too.

[TheAbsolutistsCreed]

Didn't know what this thread was for in the first place, at least until I read it all... I'll just lurk this thread for now until I have the time to come up with something. I need to keep up and improve my already mediocre writing skills and having input would be nice. Things I've written before were just to alleviate boredom... absolutely no sense of planning at all *: (