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Thread: (Bi)Monthly Don't-Create-A-Servant Contest

  1. #201
    邪魔 Spanner Random's Avatar
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    Yeah of course bro, you can read it here

    Fate\last call
    night, dawn, and the birth of stars

    · Characters
    Recent: Ch. 5.4

  2. #202
    Local Extra Class Aficionado DelRey's Avatar
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    Lost in Ambition
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    Quote Originally Posted by Random View Post
    Yeah of course bro, you can read it here
    "Let's see the color of your coin, my friend."

    Behold the vault of Heroes.

    The King made the community prosper. Enjoy for free. Paid by your taxes.
    University of Formatting | Museum of Legends | Memorandum of Kings

  3. #203
    هههههههههههههههههههه Kamera's Avatar
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    Total scam. Only 1/3 of the product. Wouldn't recommend.
    Check out the officialTM Create-a-Servant discord server

    Blindfold your eyes, so that the approaching night may strike no fear in you.
    Let it not burden your soul, nor numb your strides.

  4. #204
    鬼 Ogre-like You's Avatar
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    69 [General information about witches]

    Da Vinci Akuta Hinako. She got her start in Yumina, the Botany Department, which is tied to the studies of witches at the Clock Tower.
    Da Vinci She used to be part of Chaldea's engineering team, before her latent talents were spotted and she was added to the pool of Master candidates.
    Woodwose Guh... Gah... Ah... Ah...
    Beryl All riiight! Way to go, Lady Spinel! That was perfect!
    Beryl I knew you had the makings of a witch in you! You pulled off my granny's old curse like it was nothing!
    Tam Lin Tristan R-really? I'm glad to hear that, but also kind of...not?
    Tam Lin Tristan Whatever I just did, it felt super gross. I don't think I wanna do that again...
    Beryl Don't worry! You can't! It was a secret art, and you can only cast it once in a lifetime!
    Beryl ('Cause casting it literally rots your soul. If you want to try it out, best to let someone else do it.)
    Beryl Now here, let me have that, Princess. It's still beating pretty strong, right?
    Beryl That's not the kind of thing you should be carrying around with your beautiful fingers.
    Tam Lin Tristan ...Okay. I really like the way this thing feels, but if you insist.
    Tam Lin Tristan What is it, anyway? Woodwose's liver or something?
    Beryl Oh, something like that.
    Beryl Remember when I told you about how Proper Human History witches can turn into animals?
    Beryl There's a lot of pieces that go into that spell, and it's not the kind of thing you can cast in a day...
    Beryl But where there's a will, there's a faster way.
    Like so.
    Beryl It's not easy collecting and eating the parts of the creatures you want to become, but it's definitely the quickest way.
    As the boy told me this,
    he stroked a pendant he wore around his neck.
    Kirschtaria ...Well I'll be.
    Even though I couldn't use magecraft at the time, I could still tell that the boy was holding a Mystic Code of concealment.
    What's more, it was an antique of incredible value:
    A talisman that belonged to a sect of witches who have been living in England's deepest forests since even before the Clock Tower was founded.
    Q: Is Zelretch's name that well known?

    Nasu: Old bloodlines teach their children his name, and even young families have heard that "in the Clock Tower the great magician who led the World of Magecraft into battle long ago is still alive". Those who rise to the rank of Cause may eventually hear of another Magician by the name of Yumina.
    Takeuchi: Is Zelretch still a vampire in Fate worlds?
    Nasu: No, but he's got something along the lines of immortality all the same.
    Q: There are various departments in the Clock Tower, but what department did Zolgen Makiri belong to when he was in the Clock Tower? Since he had written a paper about Ghost Liners, was he in Spiritual Evocation? <Silver Moon Madao>

    Nasu: Likely Botany and Curses. He probably reached the Einzbern as part of the research to reach the Root, and thought he could prove the existence of Ghost Liners which are a permanent and not temporary way for a soul to be.
    Takeuchi: So Heroic Spirit summons are all thanks to Einzbern?
    Nasu: Heroic Spirit summons in itself is Magecraft from the Clock Tower. Einzbern are descendants of alchemists that succeeded just once in the "materialization of a soul". So it all stems from the hypothesis that if you have the Einzbern system (Holy Grail) you can summon a Heroic Spirit which was previously thought to be impossible.
    Takeuchi: I see. That's it. Did you get that, Madao?
    Quote Originally Posted by Heroic Spirit Lore ~Henry Jekyll/Hyde~
    Month ■, Day ■

    The salt I ordered from Messrs. Maw finally arrived. The compounding of the drug that can chemically alter the human mind will now commence.

    Month ■, Day ■

    First phase of compounding, successful. I am much obliged to the Archelot House’s cooperation. I have promised them a check of 20 thousand pounds as well as a detailed documentation of the results of the experiment.
    Judging by the angle of the sun peaking in through the window, it was still afternoon. It seemed like I had dozed off for about two hours. With a deep breath, I began massaging my cheeks.

    "Marks, huh..."

    I wasn't old enough to be truly concerned about it, but the day when I would have to start looking for magecraft to stave off the signs of ageing came was only a matter of time. The skills of those like Maio who we had met earlier, were often in great demand as long as they could put out results, so anti-aging had become a rather significant source of income for the
    Faculty of Botany

    Thinking of that, I realized something.
    Though I couldn't figure out why on earth there needed to be zombies involved in a cooking show, I felt like it was in poor taste to bring that up now. Beyond that, my weakness was more for ghosts or spirits, so zombies weren't something that particularly bothered me.

    At any rate, as I tried my best to absorb this new information, I couldn't help but mutter.

    "A magus, on television...?"

    "It's not like it's impossible.
    The Faculty of Botany's
    Archelot has been playing with the TV Media for a while now, after all."

    As I stared blankly, my master added his own comments.

    Though that seemed to me to be something more fitting for the Faculty of Law, I suppose they didn't have a monopoly on it or anything. Within many different factions, there was a desire to control information with their own hands - and though other magi might consider it only a mundane affair, what resulted was a situation where magi struggled against each other right near the surface of society.
    Quote Originally Posted by FSF 5, Chapter 14: Gold and Lions I
    Dumas flashed a fearless grin at Flat and Jack as he rattled off odd turns of phrase.
    "And most importantly, it's me who'll be doing the cooking."
    Though abandoned, forgotten, and scorned as out-of-date dolls, they continue to carry out their mission, unchanged from the time they were designed.
    Machines do not lose their worth when a newer model appears.
    Their worth (life) ends when humans can no longer bear that purity.

  5. #205
    世はまさにパンテオン Comun's Avatar
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    I just remembered Mahoyo has one important line about witches that I was pretty unsatisfied with the loc's take on.
    Quote Originally Posted by Original
    Quote Originally Posted by Aniplex's rendition
    The young witch despised humans, having recreated so many of their objects and fairy tales.
    Quote Originally Posted by My rendition
    Witches hate humans. It's a necessary price to be paid if they want to replicate their many objects and fairy tales.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dullahan View Post
    Some pantheons are depicted as Tamamo, while others are only potentially Tamamo.

  6. #206
    夜属 Nightkin GilgameshKingOfMemes's Avatar
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    The Witch Flower
    Kay Hugues Boissieu

    “You cannot deny, my dear friend, that there are in existence creatures who are neither man nor beast, but strange unearthly creations, born of the nefarious passions that arise in distorted minds….. I often wonder, if such a thing is truly me.

    Gender: Male
    Birthdate: December 7th
    Age: 43
    Height/Weight: 179cm/78kg
    Birthplace: France

    Magical Attributes
    Elemental Attribute: Fire

    Magic Circuits
    Circuit Quantity: B+
    Circuit Quality:B+
    Circuit Composition: Standard


    “...And it was summer, - warm, beautiful summer…. The last summer of my life.

    The Boissieu Family

    A noble lineage with a history of around a thousand years, the Boissieu have remained entrenched with the Botany department for numerous generations. Over the centuries they have procured a number of exclusive patents based around the plant life they cultivate, though most of them are of the niche variety. These limitations have made it hard for the family to sustain itself fully on just their original creations, and have thus been known to indulge more common sources of income such as life extension.

    The main practice of the Boissieu family is the growth of plant based familiars which excel in mimicry. Their path to the Fount encompasses cultivating a perfect mimicry of themselves. A transformation into an idealized form that is them in every way that matters, but better in all the ways they seek. Essentially, it would be to overlap themselves with a mimicry of humanity far better fit for reaching the Root than humans are themselves.


    The decrepit magus who now oversees the Boissieu estate aligns with his parents' recent passing. A person who brings with them a depressing aura, seemingly unable to see the good in the world any longer. A sunken, frail man who seems to so naturally suck the air out of the room. While perhaps no one’s friend, it doesn’t mean he isn’t well liked. Talented but not a genius, they are someone who still receives notable praise for being a magus of ideal mentality and efficiency. They are able to get far because they, as far as the world of magi is concerned, can always make the right choices as a magus.

    Though it’s hard to imagine that an ideal magus is something someone would truly want to be. Or perhaps Kay simply isn’t meant for the role. It is simply the way things are, and all the contradictions that might entail. Could he really live any other way? The fact that he does not is surely his answer.

    When not managing the business of the family, Kay mostly remains a sheltered academic hidden far out in a deep and snowy forest. A distant little world famous for its magical qualities, not unlike a fairy tale…

    The Witch

    There was once a Witch who lived on a mountain overlooking the Boissieu estate. A creature which with the encroachment of civilization into its domain, slowly mingled with humans. First by necessity, secondly by desire. In the eyes of many it was a disgraceful destruction of the self, like a god falling to mortality, the beings' delving into humanity was a humiliation. Even so the Magi of the land did not despise the fallen Witch, and in turn she could slowly mingle with them.

    A Witch was the most useful kind of mystery the family could stumble upon. A magical being capable of far more than their meager mortality could carry them, their craft was elevated by her presence. It was said this union had saved the family from a slow decline. With the loss of the last heir and the faltering foundation in which the generations had staked their livelihoods, they had expected to fade away in the decades to come, slowly buried under snow. Yet the Witch had saved them. To her, they owed everything.

    Yet to bond with humans is to taint the Witch and rot the soul. Though perhaps lured in by the warmth of civilization, such desire simply burns her. Her time in the world wouldn’t be long, though surely couldn’t regret the day regardless. Her final wish was to thus return to the Earth like the Witches which left her behind before decay had fully taken hold.

    “So let us return you to the Earth.”

    They were Magi to the end. The hunger of their life's purpose weighed more heavily upon them than anything else. When the Witch had become too human and wished to return to the Earth, then will return her to the Earth with the mentality of magi who can never let go of anything. They would take her body and blood, for that was more valuable than her absence.


    “A magus must never lose sight of the goal. They must act with dignity, moving with efficiency towards the one dream we are permitted to carry, handed down by someone else. ”


    The type of familiar which the Boissieu family specializes in and a kind of homunculus called an Alraune. Unlike other homunculi they are beings which are grown from the ground, a magical plant which mimics humans through blood to the point of becoming “nearly human” in a process that can be described as similar to cloning. This process fundamentally limits the capacity for magic circuits but makes them more malleable and receptive of inhuman traits and characteristics that might be spliced in.

    Unlike regular homunculi they are entities which are active mimicries and whose inhuman nature can bubble forth to the surface if given enough time.


    Sometimes called a demon, a Mandragora is the form of Mandrake who has strengthened its own existence as a lifeform and garnered enough experience to develop a true ego. The cry which can kill men when uprooted is sometimes said to come from a demon and originates as a curse from the remaining inhuman factors of the plant within the homunculus. A homunculus who grows too far and develops through the natural generation of experience would become an existence far closer to that of a mixed blood and can even experience an inversion impulse. Generally a magus would shorten the Mandrakes lifespan to the point that they would not develop to such a state, but it isn’t impossible to use a Mandragora as a familiar either. It’s all about the risk the Magus is willing to endure for the sake of their goal.

    The Witch Flower

    The masterwork of the Boissieu family, a Mandrake based not on the mere blood of a human, but rather the blood of a Witch. When the Witch who remained with them finally wilted and withered, they were left to mourn their loss and choices through the things that did linger. They had procured the blood of a witch, a seed from which they could grow The Witch Flower Alraune. The witch returned to the Earth, and from the Earth she would be born anew.

    Thus through much labor, a Mandrake unlike any other was cultivated. While it resembled and mimicked the Witch, it was clearly a patchwork monstrosity. A demonic plant which made the foundation, and bits of humanity to stabilize it. Alraune is a hybrid of a very unnatural variety. Still, she is destined to be Witch regardless of the alterations, it is a fate decided by their blood from before they are born. Though artificially created, it can certainly qualify as the next generation of the Witch.

    It is a familiar of exceptional capability, soullessly and emotionlessly carrying out the will of its creator. Like the legends before it, The Witches offspring will have no feelings of love or soul to guide them. A fairy of great power, but no remaining will, becoming malleable and obedient. In many ways it is the perfect familiar for a magus to desire……..

    “I didn’t have the heart for her to hate me. I did not have the will for her to love me. So close to crumbling inwards, I could only bear nothing at all. Yet absence makes a man hollow.”

    Rather than being a familiar which truly has no feelings, emotions are offloaded into lesser homunculi. This keeps the soul of Alraune pure for the actual impact of experience is instead offloaded into another vessel. Experiences are an inherent part of living and in order for a homunculus to be used experiences must be had. So to bypass this inevitably the actual impact of something Alraune encounters will merely be experienced by something else. Many of the Homunculi created in order to hold these experiences will quickly expire once their purpose is fulfilled and their bodies are recycled for magical parts. The pure life of one singular experience or emotion can prove valuable in the right hands and is the industry which fuels the Boissieu family's patents.

    This process also serves to preserve the nature of the Witch that encompasses Alarune’s being. Normally a Witches soul would rot through experiences such as love for human beings, but Alarune’s human components serve as an inherent compromising factor in this dynamic, making such an end all the more likely. Thus the denial of emotion essentially serves as the stabilizing factor, a Witches soul will not decay if it could never experience love to begin with.

    Even so, no transferal project couldn’t prove perfect. Regardless of what they may try, gradually, little glimpses of experiences accumulate threatening the stability of the familiar.

    Mandrake Heart

    The special kind of Mandrake the Boissieu has cultivated to specifically hold another person's emotions. It simply takes the creature's mimicry to another level, stealing the experience or emotions of a target for itself. This kind of familiar can be classified as parasitic, and the Witch Flower is even capable of growing them from herself. The Boissieu family holds the creation under a patent, often serving as means for magi to offload problems like pain into another vessel. They are split into a number of specializations in order to avoid absorbing the wrong feeling.

    As a safety feature they are designed to expire shortly after absorbing the kind emotion they are meant to and if left to their own devices would only last a period of about 2 weeks. While this is mainly to prevent one from potentially evolving Mandragora, it results in high costs for the Boissieu family as an untold number of the creatures are burned through in order to maintain Alraune.

    The Devil's Mirror

    “Never again shall the world look the same. I am just seeing things the way they are.”

    The witches magic of fairy tales, now falling into the possession of Alraune. It is a mirror which reflects a world without good and strengthens all things considered evil and ugly. It is another world which mimics all evil things as considered by the onlooker and can distort the world with the exaggerated evils locked within. It is a biased mirror with a filter that reflects someone's personal perspective rather than the truth of feeling. However, if it is even turned towards the sky, it will shatter into a thousand pieces and launch itself in every direction, with a tendency to hit people. The shattering can be considered the entity's true purpose.

    Those who bear a piece of the mirror will have their entire world distorted and become a vessel for the power of the mirror, filtering their very perception of the world like a mystic eye. However their psyche remains fundamentally altered and they turn into aggressive beasts unlike their original selves. However expressions of love towards an afflicted person will cause the mirror to dislodge itself returning them to normal.

    The Snow Queen

    “The Witch's heart had been Frozen over, never to feel again.”

    The counterpart to The Devil's Mirror, a familiar which traps the area in an eternal frost and can freeze those who come near it. The very snowflakes it generates are alive, and though weak as familiars grow quite powerful through sheer numbers. The Snow Queen lacks a heart and operates as an intelligent and logical being as if it were a computer program, controlling its harsh winter with utmost efficiency.

    The most powerful effect of this entity is that its cold winter denies things its “specialness.” It’s an entity which can be described as the enemy of romanticism and hope and reduces all things to their real and most base parts. In effect the entity could be described as anti-mystery, flipping anything which can be considered unique or special on its head rendering it functionally mundane. It’s the sort of ability which grows in proportion to the strength of the opponent and will often fall victim to the weakest or most mundane amongst us.

    Yet like the fairy tale from which it draws from, its undoing is the very thing it seeks to deny. Only the strongest of loves and hopes can thaw the frozen winter, and with just these feelings alone will the Snow Queen melt away.


    “Every time I see the Snow Queen, I remember that one day spring will come and all things will melt away…”

    Inevitably, for its life span is too long, Alraune will become a Mandragora. It is not about if but when, for unless it is terminated it will eventually generate enough gradual experience to start the formation of a self. All the feels which had been subdued will one day blossom despite the darkness Kay has kept them in. An inversion impulse of something like a Witch can only be feared and Kay sees it as merely destiny after everything.

    He is not brave enough to face the look in her eyes after all this time, but one day it will come. And then, all will end.

    Authors Comment
    Authors Comment:

    I wasn't planning on entering this month cause I spent all my Witch content on The Witch and the Dark Forest, but then I got a very quick idea so here it is. Just going pretty simple this time so it's more of a light sheet compared to the others I've done.

  7. #207
    不死 Undead PA270's Avatar
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    Apr 2023
    On the brink
    Kay Hughes Boisseiu: What a fantastic entry this was! It's definitely on the lighter side compared to your other entries, but everything here is pristine and perfect! And the fairy tale connections were utterly fantastic as well! Thank you so much for writing this, as you helped re-inspire me to get my own entry out there!

  8. #208
    鬼 Ogre-like You's Avatar
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    Stop the Steal

    1 week extension
    Quote Originally Posted by FSF 5, Chapter 14: Gold and Lions I
    Dumas flashed a fearless grin at Flat and Jack as he rattled off odd turns of phrase.
    "And most importantly, it's me who'll be doing the cooking."
    Though abandoned, forgotten, and scorned as out-of-date dolls, they continue to carry out their mission, unchanged from the time they were designed.
    Machines do not lose their worth when a newer model appears.
    Their worth (life) ends when humans can no longer bear that purity.

  9. #209
    後継者 Successor Bugs's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2018
    October 11th, London

    I saw her when the tube ran late.

    Something which shouldn’t happen–in theory–given the unending stream of people in and out of Regent’s Park station. A hub of human activity of such constant fervency that a train failing to appear on time is a mistake that affects potentially thousands. Every effort is thus taken by the City of Westminster to keep things running smoothly, as failure is comparable to the loss of a critical organ within the living, breathing organism that is London.

    But still, only so many variables can be accounted for at once. Ask any Brit off the street, and they’re liable to have a personal anecdote relating to a bit of construction underground keeping them from an appointment, or some such. This attitude that bends toward the lackadaisical makes itself most well known round midnight, when the traffic surrounding the station is at its lowest.

    It’s about 5AM when I hustle up the stairs and immediately make a sharp right turn down Park Crescent. It’s a bit annoying that the closest station isn’t very close at all, requiring that I double back and cross several other hectic roads before I’m able to reach my true destination.

    Park Crescent turns into Park Square West after narrowly avoiding death while crossing the A501 section of the Inner Ring Road. Later in the day, this area will become filthy with the usual bustle of tourists and people far too important for me to even dare making eye contact with, but for now the wide sidewalk is almost completely empty.

    Park Square, the little sibling to Regent’s Park proper, sits barely separated and confined on all sides like a trapped amoeba. It would save an enormous amount of time on my walk if I was able to cross through the beautiful slice of nature that is Park Square Gardens, but unfortunately the entire place is privately owned. A neat little wrought-iron sign informs the average idiot that the gardens are for KEY HOLDERS ONLY, and that they should PLEASE CLOSE THE GATE, all courtesy of the Crown Estate Paving Commission.

    But that’s fine. My true destination is on Park Square West anyway. As I jog down to the corner of Ulster Terrace, I take notice of the lighting. Cars flit by my left, while darkness pervades to my right.

    In art study, this is called chiaroscuro. It follows the use of strong contrasts between light and shadow, and originated in the Renaissance. Though the term is used primarily for paintings and woodcuts, it also applies to the film industry as well. Which is what I’m here for.

    Every year in October, Park Square West is transformed from a somewhat ordinary London road into a global center for the arts known as Frieze London. As part of my university’s film program, I’m here to film the goings on of the festival. Permission to film the festival professionally is apparently pretty difficult to come by, so it was lucky that my classmates and I were able to snag a spot. Now if only they’d cut me some slack on being late.

    After putting up with their ribbing and double-checking that all of our equipment was properly covered, as rain was expected later, I found myself leaning on a wall, gazing off to my right at the verdant stripe of Regent’s Park proper. All the b-roll we’d wanted to get filmed of the festival’s setup process was all done by now, but people weren’t expected to start showing up for another few hours. After a brief heads-up to my classmates, I’m off.

    Though half the size of Central Park over in the States, the size of Regent’s Park is still enough to be stunning. 410 acres of lush greenery extends further than the eye can see, the park itself being so massive as to be split between Westminster and Camden. I’m not usually one to spend too much time wandering around parks, but I figure it’s a decent chance for an extra hour of peace before the city really starts to wake up. Besides, a cameraman never shies away from a setting like this. Professors go gaga over “meaningful nature videos,” whatever that exactly means. Silently, I thank Sir Attenborough for the free cheat code to a good grade.

    It’s still quiet out, though a few joggers pass me by on my way deeper into the park. Soon, the rain forecasted earlier begins to drizzle down between the high leaves of the oak trees lining the perimeter of this particular walkway. It’s not like I’m unused to the rain, but still, I turn around and begin picking my way back to the Frieze.

    Finding my way back is more difficult than I would like. Between the utter size of the park and all of its winding pathways, I soon feel as though I’m getting lost. I’m not too worried yet, as I know my classmates can handle any of the festival’s beginning filming without me. But damn it, I’m not going to be late twice in one day.

    I almost ran into her in my half-crazed run back toward what I assumed was the park’s entrance. A solitary figure, a girl about my height calmly strolling along gazing up at the trees. An umbrella shields her from the rain, so clearly I’m the only one in the park who didn’t plan accordingly.

    She turns at the sound of my stomping footsteps, brilliant blue eyes gazing at some distant point behind me before she seems to finally notice my presence. The second my eyes meet hers, I feel every drop of my blood instantly freeze solid. My airways constrict, and I can feel my lungs inflating in protest. What the hell. Am I dying?

    She’s beautiful.

    Like something out of a movie poster. Were they filming something for Hollywood here in London? Crap, I’d better get out of the shot.

    “Uh…sorry.” I mumble, casting about looking for the camera crew that was clearly filming this girl. A few drizzling seconds confirmed I had actually not managed to become an unintentional movie extra, which made the situation all the more baffling. Where was her boyfriend? Girlfriend? Devoted entourage?

    Well, it’d be doubly strange to apologize and then continue to stare at her like a gormless idiot. Sheepishly, I begin to shuffle away. Internally, I curse myself stupid. If she really wasn’t an actress, then she should be. I’d gladly be her manager for dirt cheap. Hell, I’d be happy with just her phone number.


    I snap to attention. It feels like cool water that spills out of her mouth, washing over me in a refreshing, steady stream compared to the tat-tat-tat of the rain. I have no choice but to remain where I am. Partially because she’s currently gripping my face with her delicate hands, umbrella tucked under her arm.
    I try not to get my inferior breath on her, but this situation is quickly getting out of hand. Just then, another early morning visitor to the park intrudes on this bizarre scene. A young woman, tanned and wielding a hooded pram, jogs past directly behind me. The girl’s eyes seem to unfocus, thin eyebrows knitting into a scowl as her attention is drawn to the young mother already disappearing further into the mist.

    “It’s no good…they still all look the same.”

    …It should go without saying that I look nothing like a young mother, tanned or otherwise. Could it be that she has weak eyes? Actually, what’s all this “they” business, as if I’m not standing right here?

    No, actually I’ve seen this before. Well, on TV, but it still counts. Face blindness. Also known as prosopagnosia. Apparently, it’s such a specific condition that it doesn’t impact the function of the brain much at all. Just a single hole in an otherwise normal person’s perception. The guy on the BBC show couldn’t even recognize himself in a mirror. It sounds terrifying.

    Ah, crap. She’s making a really concerned face. Well, what am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly help someone’s condition I know nothing about. I’m no doctor, just a cameraman. Still, as a man, I feel like I should say something.

    “Hey, hey. It’s fine. Uh, people say I’ve got a really forgettable face all the time, so…”


    I gulp, once again compelled by some primordial force tickling my bone marrow to comply. The girl’s face is downcast, looking off to the side into the distance. For some reason, I get the feeling that she’s not actually talking to me, but that the words coming out of her mouth are still for my benefit.

    “It’s no good. When there’s one of you lot, it’s easy to focus. But as soon as another rolls along, it becomes so…bloody difficult to keep focus.” An irritated sigh escapes her lips. “But that’s what I get for expecting too much from insects.”

    Whoa whoa whoa. Insects? Did I hear her right? Is this the kind of person she actually is? If so, I’ve seriously misjudged this girl. Not only that, but I’ve seen enough TV to know that scary women like this are likely to pull a knife on you for no reason.

    Instinctively, I throw both of my hands into the air. A step back breaks the girl’s grip on my chin, casting me back into the morning rain. There’s nobody around now, and the nearest call box is out at the entrance to the park. Something about not wanting to dilute the scenery. Typical.

    I’m about to give her a piece of my mind when her laughter interrupts me. Surprisingly deep, the cream cuff of her jacket held in front of her mouth like some kind of posh stereotype.

    “A joke, just a joke! Though admittedly it might not have been very funny.”

    There was no apology and no sense from her tone that she intended one. Even still, I warily lower my arms. Was I the one mistaken? Upper crust humor might as well come from a different planet, clearly.

    “Call it a toll for passing by my front yard.”

    Wait. What?

    Regent’s Park, along with Park Square West, contain a handful of properties worth several million pounds. Mostly, they’re inhabited by celebrities, business tycoons, and even a few foreign politicians. Hell, the only time I paid attention was when David Beckham moved in a few years back.

    Clearly enjoying my discomfort, the girl throws a thumb over her shoulder. Following the direction indicated, I realize we’ve been standing in front of a neat white fence. Several hundred meters in the distance, nestled among oak trees and half-covered in moss, is the biggest mansion I’ve ever seen in my life.

    I’m awestruck, of course, but things are also starting to piece themselves together in my head. She must be the daughter of…well, somebody. Celebrities, as a general rule, can be pretty strange. Thinking of it like that, I can accept her behavior a bit more readily.

    A rather humble sign perched on the fence reads “Roxbrough.” It was my understanding turnover in these kinds of residences was pretty frequent, but the sign and the building itself gave the appearance that this particular family had been here for quite some time.

    “You’re…a Roxbrough?” I tried desperately to keep the fact I had no idea who these people were out of my voice. “What’s your name?”

    She frowned once more, hand on her chin.

    “Witch A was before the time of modern humans. Witch B was a bit more recent, but still far older than your entire bloodline. Witch C was immediately before me…”

    “Therefore, you can call me ‘Dee.’”

    Witch. Uh huh. Sure. Whatever you say, crazy-but-beautiful-lady. This must be another one of her incredibly out of touch jokes, but I have absolutely no idea how to tell her it’s completely nonsensical to an ordinary person like me.

    “Dee. Miss Dee Roxbrough, I should say. It’s surely been a pleasure (I think) but I really should be going…” The sun may be terminally hidden by cloud cover here in London, but it’s pretty easy to tell that early-morning is transitioning quickly to mid-morning. I need to get back to my classmates at the Frieze.

    “Sure. Return to your colony, little ant.”

    Okay. Now I’m starting to get a little mad.

    “Excuse me, milady, but my name is Thomas. I know you never asked, but it’s customary among you pampered lot to at least pretend like the rest of us aren’t scum.”

    “Oh. Milady. I quite like that.”

    This girl…

    Rather than become irritated in return, she looks sad? But that’s quickly wiped away, returning to the same distantly serene expression I found on her.

    “I really thought I might have found my favorite human.”

    She’s turned her back to me, wistfully gazing back at her enormous home. Once again, it’s more like she’s speaking out loud and I happen to be nearby, rather than being actually addressed.

    “I was curious, you see. Curious to see how you lived. Humans share the same curiosity for ants, don’t they? A thousand, million individuals, all milling about their little anthills. I wanted to see what life was like in the land of the insects.”

    “I thought that, maybe, I would be able to discover an ant that would make a particular impression on me. One I could call my favorite. But unfortunately, it’s impossible.”

    “Even were I to focus with all my might on a single ant among thousands, it’s so incredibly difficult to keep track. Therefore, I reasoned that separation from the colony was necessary for proper elucidation. That’s when I happened upon you.”

    “But even then, ants aren’t altogether dissimilar from one another. Mostly, their first reaction is to look for others of their kind. Ants are ultimately afraid. Every action is taken to reduce potential threats to the colony, and thus the individual is insulated.”

    “And that’s why your entire species is incredibly, unavoidably, boring.”

    I don’t know what to say.

    I don’t think there’s anything I can say.

    “Well? Run along. Return to your post, little drone. I’ll forget about you the same way memories of me will fade from your mind as well. That’s just how it is.”

    No, I don’t think there’s anything on Earth that could make me forget this conversation.

    “Does it have to be? I mean, what happens if you were to find your…favorite human?”

    She actually looks thoughtful. Maybe I’m getting through? I still have no idea what kind of mental illness she has, but playing to her delusions might be the smartest move, at least for now.

    “Hmm. A human I could truly tell apart from the crowd? If a human could really occupy my mind in such a way…”

    She steps forward suddenly, pressing her body into mine. My mind blanks as it fills with her scent, her gentle voice whispering in my ear:

    “I would crush it under my heel unequivocally.”

    I can’t breathe.

    “Witches must hate your kind. That is reality.”

    A witch. She’s really a witch, like out of a fairytale? My skepticism melts by the second. The dull ache in the back of my skull is something I’m able to place; it’s the primordial, reptilian part of my brain screaming at me that what I’m standing in front of right now is something unnatural. Anathema to my identity as a human being.

    “...Why?” My voice is little more than a gurgle.

    She laughs at me again.

    “Why? Why do we hate–”

    “Why do witches…exist?”

    For a moment, I think I’m going to die. Instead, she leans her head on my shoulder. We stay like that for about a minute, appearing to the world at large like a pair of mismatched lovers. Only I know how hard my heart is beating.

    “Thomas, was it?”

    Moving like granite, I nod to the affirmative.

    “I meant what I said, you know. For my own safety, I’ll eradicate any human who makes enough of an impression on me. However…if a human can bear the full burden of my hatred, then my soul will remain intact.”

    I accept all of this. I still have no idea what any of it means, but for some reason receiving this kind of information all makes sense now.

    She pulls back, holding me at arm’s length, a hand digging around in her jacket. Gripping my own hand in her thin fingers, she turns it so the palm faces upward, and drops something in my hand. I shiver, automatically assuming it’s something like a bone or some other macabre item.

    Glancing down, I can’t believe it’s something so ordinary. An acorn? I must have stepped on a hundred just walking through the park today. I turn it around in my fingers slowly, looking for something noticeably strange. But no, it’s a completely ordinary acorn, as far as my senses will tell me.

    “Keep that with you. Acorns are kernels of growth incarnate, symbolizing good fortune. If we were to meet again, you’d be nothing but another dull insect to my eyes. That will help me recognize you.”

    I open my mouth in protest, but nothing comes out. I hadn’t agreed to be the subject of this inhuman creature’s hatred. Why the hell would I ever want something like that?

    Ultimately, what angered me the most was the fact everything she said was correct. My own reactions proved her theory within minutes of meeting me, for God’s sake. So maybe it’s my pride as a human being that caused me to pocket that acorn.

    Whatever my personal feelings, Dee looks content with my decision. She parts from me completely with a rather formal pat on my shoulder.

    “Right. Off with you then. This time I mean it.”

    I nod dumbly, still staring at the acorn in my curled fist. I see movement in my peripheral vision, and when I look up, the girl known as Dee Roxbrough is gone.

    The rest of that day was memorable in its own way, of course. The filming session of the London Frieze went spectacularly, everything went off without a hitch. I think it’s likely my group will receive solid marks on the film. My classmates are even recommending I market it around as an independent film entry. I could even win a contest with it, maybe.

    But it’s no use. Even years later, I can only remember that day as the time I met a genuine Witch.

    “If humans be but ants, what does that make me? Myself, and all previous egos who were also ‘myself.’ I think…cicadas. Rarely heard from, we reveal ourselves only to breed. Then back we go, beneath the earth for another 17 years.”

    Dee Roxbrough

    Alias/Nickname: DD, Fallen Scarecrow
    Age: 20
    Height: 5’6”
    Weight: 120 lbs
    Birthplace: East Midlands, England
    Alignment: True Neutral
    Image CV: Ōhara Sayaka

    Likes: Interesting persons, fashion, insects
    Dislikes: Useless glut, unnecessary abstraction
    Natural Talents: Outfit composition
    Natural Weaknesses: Species-wide prosopagnosia
    Natural Enemy: Thomas Alva Edison

    Affiliations: Department of Botany, Clock Tower
    Origin: Harvest
    Elemental Alignment: Earth and Fire
    Bloodline (Crest Location): Roxbrough (Left Thumb)
    Circuit Quantity/Quality: B / A
    Circuit Composition: Significant mutation
    Thaumaturgical Foundation: Witchcraft

    The Earth, Tilled

    Dee is a student of Botany at the Clock Tower, and a descendant of the harvest witches that originated at the dawn of human society.

    Subsistence farming was once the primary method for humans to obtain food. After the end of the last Ice Age, the planet was subjected to long, dry periods which favored annual plants over perennials. These annual plants would leave behind seeds or tubers, resulting in easily storable wild grains for the humans at the time. While “agriculture” as an easily identifiable system by modern standards grew from the Indus River Valley and the annual floodings of the Nile River roughly 10,000 years ago, humans were selectively gathering certain grains further than 100,000 years in the past.

    Along with this transition from hunter-gatherers to a more sedentary lifestyle came the development of culture. The exchange of individuals and ideas had never been as easy or prevalent up until this point in human history. Agriculture, as the cornerstone of daily life at that point in time, was understandably the focal point of human culture at large. This included some of the first stories.

    Stories are usually never written in a vacuum. Even if the reason is as simple as the author wished a certain type of story existed in the world, there is usually an accompanying justification for the existence of a fantastical tale. Many techniques and superstitions related to agriculture and farming began as practical knowledge communicated through aetiological stories. Each seed and its future was so precious to survival that failure on the part of the lazy or uninformed was unacceptable.

    In the shadow of this cultural revolution for an entire species, the harvest witches first appeared.

    A mutualistic relationship (read: parasitic) formed over time between the fairies which germinated in the wake of humanity’s rise to primacy, which included the harvest witches. The name harvest witch itself derives from the season in which they cornered as “theirs.” By selectively antagonizing and blessing these humans which the harvest witches chose, a form of ritualistic domestication was achieved.

    “Offer a piece of the harvest to the witches, or else the next one will be worse.”

    “Leave the door open when baking bread, let the witches enter as they please.”

    “Never purchase a broom in May, it will be bewitched.”

    There was little in the way of shared emotions between the two species. After all, humans were essentially livestock for the harvest witches to exploit at their leisure. With such a relationship, it shouldn’t be any wonder that they viewed themselves as tiny divinities.

    However, this begs the question as to their purity. Regardless of the feelings behind the relationship, the truth that the harvest witches fraternized with humans to an uncomfortable degree can’t be avoided. Witches like those of the Meinster bloodline, though they came into being centuries after the Roxborough bloodline, retain a purity that the harvest witches are incapable of reaching.

    As the witches “domesticated” humans for their own purposes, so too did the witches alter their ways in order to better capitalize on the relationship. From the outset, their behavior was more in line with lesser, simpler fairies than that of true Witches. The benefit was that the souls of the harvest witches were relatively durable. So long as the relationship was maintained at a proper distance, rot could easily be prevented before it took root.

    But this was arrogance. Human beings, as the Primates of the planet, possessed the ability to grow. While they were dutiful to the superstitions planted into their very genetic code by the harvest witches, this was by no means a permanent preventative measure.

    The core desire of every human is to live a happy life. The back-breaking labor of subsistence farming became increasingly untenable as the human population exploded in just a few short centuries. To mitigate this, humans turned to their tools. Up until the turn of the 18th century, even a task as laborious as threshing had been done by hand. No longer.

    The unlucky star known as the Industrial Revolution was beginning to rise.

    The mechanization of agriculture is often credited as one of the main pillars supporting a global increase in quality of life for people at the time. Though intellectuals and artists had been permitted to exist in the past due to an enormous disparity in wealth, the near-certainty of available sustenance allowed the rest of the human race to catch up.

    To the harvest witches, mechanization was anathema.

    It wasn’t the machines themselves that were the problem. Humans and tool use were a package deal, one hardly existed without the other. The problems arose when the relationship with those same tools changed. Agricultural work was no longer the duty of every living person looking to eat, but a specialized trade that required specialized tools. Commercial farming took the burden off of the everyday person, and the harvest witches suffered for it.

    It wouldn’t be accurate to call the aftermath a genuine extinction event, though it must have certainly felt like one. One by one, the harvest witches either fell to ruin among human society, or melded back into the Earth.

    The Roxbroughs endured as long as they could. Natives of the quickly urbanizing Britain, the noose in front of their collective necks seemed to have already been closed by the time they saw the threat for what it was. After contemplating and rejecting concealing themselves among the Witches of the End deep in the forests, the Roxbroughs hit upon a familiar solution.

    To get what they wanted, waiting on the sidelines as mankind passed them by wouldn’t do. Instead, like the freshly born soot witches, they embraced human society and all of the dangers that entailed. From an incredibly early age, the Roxbroughs positioned themselves as the arbiters of all things green.

    The Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Food.
    The Department of Environment, Transports, and the Regions.
    The Department for Environment, Food, and Rural Affairs, which succeeded the previous.
    Even the London Green Spaces Commission. All of these and more had their roots in the machinations of the Roxbrough estate.

    Mankind was intent on modernizing? Fine. But it would be at the discretion of the harvest witches, same as it ever was.


    More than a magus, yet less than a Witch.

    An existence at odds with both the world of magecraft as well as the world where Witches dwell.

    A young woman balancing on a tightrope she’s hardly aware of.

    Unknown to her, but she’s already merely a human. Maybe she has an inkling, but no more. The harvest witches were barred from being true ladies of eternity from the very outset. The Archelots, the family with the most similar conditions to Dee’s own, already knew this truth. The soot witches faced the future, as they were born from a more recent paradigm shift.

    The harvest witches are the same. Though they had perhaps deluded themselves into believing they were organisms that belonged strictly to the past, were they not also born from a massive cultural upheaval? The only difference is the space and time in which it all occurred.

    With that taken into account, what the Roxbrough have managed to cultivate in Dee should be considered extraordinary. And utterly, utterly cruel.

    Dee’s face blindness–nay, a large part of what she considers common sense–is the product of a curse. Hypnosis applied to the child Roxbrough immediately upon her birth, the conceptions of a human were forcibly changed to something unrecognizable. This was to make room in Dee’s brain for the collected memories of her maternal ancestors; the ability to differentiate humans was deemed unnecessary–even harmful–and thus discarded. All of this was undertaken in the effort to “create” a Pure Witch.

    Of course, that’s impossible. Witches, as fairies, are products of the planet, not people. To the informed outsider, Dee must appear as something utterly loathsome.

    A tainted jewel, imprisoned behind iron bars. She is alone not because she wants to be, but because she must. The world at large isn’t something that rejects Dee on principle, but something that was cut off from her awareness at an age too early to know better.

    Even among the Clock Tower, she has few friends. Magi, recorded in Dee’s brain as a distinct species from mundane humanity, can be properly differentiated and recorded. Among the world of magecraft, then, is the only area where Dee’s “true” personality is allowed to blossom. Well, even then, it’s not particularly good.

    Using arrogance as both sword and shield, Dee’s core is deeply shy. She laughs cruelly at the misfortune of others, while hiding her fear of rejection. As both a magus and a woman, Dee feels unsure of herself as a natural emotion. She can never be what she’s intended to be, nor can she truly return to what she was. Dee exists in a state of limbo occupied only by herself. She will always be the girl staring out of the gate surrounding her Regent’s Park home, unable to touch what lies beyond yet seeing nothing familiar behind her.

    That being said, it’s not all bad. A studious, meticulous person by nature, Dee is at the very least respected by her professors as someone they can trust to pay attention to each and every lecture. Regardless, she stands out whether she wants to or not. She does her best to manipulate this unwanted popularity to her advantage, with some success.

    Dee’s greatest passion outside of magecraft is fashion. Something that doesn’t contradict her nature, she takes great joy in the creative process involved in design and color coordination. Her favorite material is denim. She owns clothing that is only 100% natural fibers. She has a fondness for overalls as a casual outfit, but so far she absolutely refuses to wear them anywhere she might be seen.

    Thomas Lincoln, the boy Dee met on the day of the London Frieze, is someone who occupies her thoughts with more frequency than she cares to admit. As a magus, there's no benefit to an interest in a mundane man. As a “witch,” Dee can only despise humans.

    Yet…and yet…

    A Blade, Self-Sharpened

    Magecraft Keywords

    Dead Fiction: Revenant Phantasm

    Dee is a Witchcraft specialist, of course, but her true worth lies in what’s labeled as Revenant Phantasm. Though she is utterly unaware of the true monsters lurking in the Meinster bloodline, Dee’s art is something that “distantly approaches” the reality-warping might of the Ploy Kickshaw. No, even without a comparison to the descendants of Yumina, it’s still a right of all witches to manipulate fantasy.

    All humans tell stories. All stories have an end. Stories, much like the scythe and the thresher, are just tools. Once an improvement to the current model can be ascertained, these same tools are discarded. But stories are also akin to curses, and the eradication of curses is a rare thing in this world.

    Dead Fiction can be considered thus a specialized form of Necromancy. The old stories told by humans around their fires when the harvest witches were at their peak. The stories that no longer have a reason to exist in the age of electricity and skepticism. That is what Revenant Phantasm means. As humans have abandoned these tales in favor of others, Dee steps in to claim them as her own. However, because these stories have enough weight to be inscribed upon the texture of the world, it’s more appropriate to think of Dead Fiction as a typical magus Foundation that has somewhat escaped its bonds.

    Modrybydaf: Flowering Valkyries

    Original form: Any flowering plant
    Components: Varies with plant, gold coin
    Manifestation: A swarm of bees
    Weakness: Lies

    Dee’s main form of familiar. In the past, the exact taxonomic nature of most insects was still a mystery to prehistoric man. For the most part, it never really mattered to them. That being said, to assume observation never occurred at all would be a fallacy, and an insult to the people’s gentle ignorance of a bygone age.

    For farmers, bees were an everyday part of reality. Yet their genesis was a complete mystery. Observing bees and their close relationship with flowers, humans of this past age came to a conclusion: the humble bee is actually a plant. Specifically, a zoophyte. Zoophytes, or animal-plants, is an obsolete term used to describe a supposed intermediate class of organism between flora and fauna. Many organisms were truncated under this or similar classifications for centuries, including fungi, corals, and certain insects. Akin to the geocentric model used by the majority of those in the Department of Astromancy, zoophytes are a perfectly usable modality for those in Botany.

    Treated as an extension of a flower’s reproductive cycle, Dee alters the shape of nearby flowers into a swarm of glossy, vibrant bees. Used primarily for information gathering, these flower-bees embody an extra dimension to their specialized role. “Telling the bees” is an ancient superstition that requires all major events to be related to one’s beehive, especially deaths. Whether this is due to the belief that bees are creatures of the underworld, or simply because doing so would result in a loss of honey production, Dee’s Dead Fiction doesn’t particularly care.

    The end result is rather simple. Rather than tell the bees of major events personally, Dee allows her hive the freedom to seek sources of information itself. Occupying the role of queen bee, Dee is thus informed of everything her hive system deems necessary.

    They have a particular weakness to lies and secrets. Lies told in the presence of one of the bees will cause it to revert back to a flower, essentially “killing” it. While the bees are capable of recognizing what is and isn’t an untruth, lies can be likened to a “jamming frequency” that interrupts the programming of the familiars. This means, of course, that Dee believes in the truth her hive brings her, to the detriment of any sort of nuance. A self-reinforced naivety.

    Corn Mother: Backstitch Crown

    Original Form: Small straw figure
    Components: Earth, leftover thoughts
    Manifestation: 10-30 times larger
    Effect: Manipulation of heat

    Dee’s secondary form of familiar, and primary combat option. Corn dollies, also known as corn mothers, are a form of straw work made as part of European harvest tradition before the advent of mechanization. It was believed that grown crops contained their own spirits, and that the harvest effectively made these spirits homeless. To remedy this, the last sheaf of the harvest would be taken and fastened into a variety of different shapes. The combined spirits of the harvested crop would then be induced to fill the container–usually a wreath or small humanoid figure–where the spirits could safely spend the winter. Once planting season arrived the next year, the dolly would be buried into the earth in order to rehome the spirits of the crops.

    In Scotland and Ireland in particular, the relationship farmers had with the corn mothers was more antagonistic. The first farmer to finish harvesting would once again create a corn mother from the last sheaf of the crop, usually grain. The corn mother would then be tossed into a neighboring farmer’s property, who had not yet finished the harvest. Said farmer would be expected to care for the corn mother all throughout the winter.

    These corn mothers were associated in particular with the Gaelic Hag-Goddess,
    Witch B
    Beira, Queen of Winter
    , also known as
    Witch C

    Though the form the corn mothers can take is completely modular, Dee tends toward a pair she calls the Wings of the White King. These take the form of a mighty lion and unicorn, important symbols to her homeland of Britain. The creation and summoning process involves the accumulation of leftover thoughts into the corn mothers, whether in their “inert” form or once buried. After a gestation period, the familiars will crawl from the earth as spontaneously growing stalks of grain. There, they take on properties more familiar to the Phantasmal Species which they mimic.

    Their main abilities involve the replication of the seasons which governed the lives of those ancient humans, and informed the creation of the corn mothers in the first place, by manipulating heat. The lion governs the stimulating heat of spring, and repels ambient heat value. If one were to touch the lion’s own corpus, they would find it cold to the point of freezing. The unicorn, meanwhile, absorbs all heat ambient value, depriving the environment and thus leading it to freeze over. Once more, the unicorn’s own body, should it be touched, would be so hot as to burn the skin.

    Apparently, while Dee can technically use both of them at once, she hardly ever does so. Though each manifestation is powered by unique leftover thoughts the kernel figures take in, somehow there’s a bit of a personality that’s unable to be written over. In a word, the lion and the unicorn don’t get along. Though this too surely has its applications.

    Boggart Moon: Thousand-Hand Reaper

    Original Form: A shiny gardening trowel
    Components: Four iron bars
    Manifestation: Creates a Bounded Field
    Effect: Severing

    An “instant kill” type application of Dead Fiction, and one Dee is quite proud of.

    Boggarts are a subspecies of fairy known throughout English folklore to cause mischief, especially to those living in and around farming communities. Living in the shadow of the great King of Fairies, Oberon, boggarts are unable to properly manifest a definitive physical shell. They are closer to a collection of Wraiths, explicitly tied to certain stretches of land as genii locorum. Boggarts do not have individuality, acting more like a force of nature once enough of them gather together.

    Always malevolent, boggarts are also quite easy to manipulate due to their bestial nature. A famous tale around the British Isles is the story of a particular farmer confronting a boggart, which is presented in the text as a sort of hairy goblin. The farmer intended to plow the land, but the boggart, as the guardian of the land for hundreds of years, demanded restitution. After negotiations, the farmer and the boggart eventually agreed to plow the land together. The crop’s yield would be split up between the two later.

    However, the farmer’s greed was great. He sought to cheat the boggart at its own game. Asking the boggart if it wanted the harvest’s profit from above or below the ground, the boggart replied that he would take all that grew underground. In retaliation, the farmer planted grain, which grows above the surface of the soil. When the harvest came, the boggart was left with useless roots and dirt. For the next harvest, the boggart demanded everything above the soil. The farmer agreed, and only planted tubers and other crops which only grow below the earth. Once again, the adaptive human triumphed over primitive nature.

    Some versions of the story include a third episode, however. After convincing the boggart to give him one last chance, the farmer agreed one last time to plant grain for the harvest. When it came time, the farmer planted iron rods in the field in order to blunt the boggart’s scythe, allowing the farmer to run away with the majority of the harvest yet again.

    Boggart Moon reenacts this story, as well as the global motif of “impossible tasks completed in a single night.” Planting the completed Boggart Moon or its iron bar components into the ground establishes a Bounded Field with a simple rule: everything within the confines of the Bounded Field will be instantly cut by wrathful boggarts. The size and dimensions of both the Bounded Field and the point of reaping are customizable, yet Boggart Moon itself follows additional rules.

    First, the cut will always be horizontal. Second, the X-axis is determined by how far down Boggart Moon is planted into the ground. If six inches of the handle is left above ground, the X-axis is determined as immediately above the handle. Third, Boggart Moon does not reap that which does not live. Stones, buildings, and all manner of metal are all immune to Boggart Moon’s invisible scythe.

    Fen Worm: Dragon of Harvest

    Original Form: Oil
    Components: Horsehair, eels, witch blood
    Manifestation: Varies
    Weakness: Electricity
    Prerequisite: Suitable source of water, time

    The most powerful Revenant Phantasm among Dee’s collection. Its use will undoubtedly rot the user’s soul.

    Dee describes it as a “tool of pure vengeance” against mankind akin to divine punishment. Something so vast of scale that its use may as well be considered impossible, and even then the consumption of the user’s life force is guaranteed.

    Various tales from Northeast England tell of the appearance of dragons…


    Author's Notes and Image Sources

    I lied, there are no author's notes. I'm tired.

    In all seriousness, Dee as a character just seemed to write herself. It doesn't detract from the fact that I was planning on playing Mahoyo next month over winter break, so I came at this with LB7 knowledge and the scraps I could find.
    Last edited by Bugs; November 24th, 2023 at 05:51 PM.

  10. #210
    不死 Undead PA270's Avatar
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    Dee Roxborugh: God I love her. She is an utterly terrible person (and also utterly terrible at being a person), but I love her anyway. Not only that, but her Magecraft is deeply fascinating, and that introductory story set the tone so completely perfectly! Fantastic work!

  11. #211
    wwwww Spartacus's Avatar
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    Blog Entries

    March 11, 2011, Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami. A natural tragedy that caused 19,759 deaths, 6,242 injured, and 2,553 people missing in Japan.

    Among the injured survivors is Seiryuu Fuyuno, a 2nd year high school student that studies in Tokyo, but returns to Iwate to celebrate her birthday with her family.

    What is supposed to be a joyous day now doubles as the day of mourning.

    She becomes a girl that lives between the state of life and death.

    No matter how one profiles her, Seiryuu Fuyuno is simply an average Japanese girl born from an average Japanese family. She was born in Iwate prefecture, and together with her family often prays to the local gods for blessing and good fortune. Like many aspiring young men and women from the prefectures, she wishes to move to Tokyo once reached maturity. In which, after many arguments with her parents, she begins her high school abroad in the capital city like she always dreamed.

    Her grade is slightly above average, she can only cook simple foods, she prefers to do laundry on her own, and she often spends her allowance money to look good just to impress her friends. The last part makes many boys have a crush on her, while the girls begrudgingly admit she is very attractive, and she has been scouted by an agency before, which makes her consider her career path in showbiz, and starts her own streaming channel. Despite that, the boy she likes doesn’t seem to find her attractive, as he likes Western athletic and tall women the most.

    Regardless how amusing her life can be, none of this shows any indication that she belongs in the moonlit world.

    She isn’t, or at least, she shouldn’t be.

    During her high school second year in 2011, she comes back to her hometown to celebrate her birthday with her parents, which she greatly misses, which also becomes the perfect excuse for her to take a leave in school. However, her birthday coincided with the earthquake and tsunami, in which their house collapsed and crushed them, killing her parents and leaving her severely wounded.

    When search and rescue found her 33 hours after the event, she was pierced by debris in the abdomen. The doctors examined the wound as fatal, with her brain continuing to lose oxygen and her heartbeat continuing to slow down every minute. Although they tried their best, most of them have no hope in her.

    Yet, after being unconscious for 5 days and the doctors continue to give her treatment, she miraculously survived. Once her condition is pronounced stable within 2 months, she is transferred to Tokyo for rehabilitation. After 1 month of extensive rehabs, she was finally allowed to return to school, reuniting with the good friends that missed her and igniting a brand new spirit within.

    Now alone, she approached the idol agency that scouted her to earn money. She also begins to monetize her streams, and aims for the top 10 in school. By the time she graduates, she has managed to star in a TV drama, her video has thousands of regular viewers, and she is ranked 9th in school. She managed to achieve all of these despite living a triple life, making many inspired and touched by her resolve. She even impresses the boy she likes that doesn’t find her attractive, making him fall for her from sheer determination alone.

    Whenever asked the secret behind her perseverance, she always answers in honesty that she simply never gives up despite wanting to rest multiple times. And from observation, she doesn’t seem the type that intentionally tried to balance her diet to stay healthy.

    Her fame as a star continues to rise as she begins to appear in movies, receiving various celebrity guests in her streams, and recently graduating from her university with honor (cum laude). Many start calling her a genius idol with a mind of steel, a perfect person that is capable of doing anything if she puts her mind to it.

    Not to mention she is beautiful, extremely so, as many of her idol peers begin to age, yet she is still as smooth and pristine as she always has been.

    However, as her fame begins to rise, so does her personal information. Many begin to learn about her status being an orphan, and how she lived alone.

    This leads to a burglar attempting to rob her, and as she tries to resist to protect her property, the burglar physically attacks her, in the struggle–

    The man suddenly collapsed. Just like that, she was saved from an attempted assault.

    The police reported that he died of cancer. Something that the man hasn’t shown any symptom of based on his medical data, but supported through an autopsy from his corpse.

    The news about the attempted burglary of a famous idol begins to spread. And while the public and the court is on her side, she announced a hiatus for the first time to process what’s happening to her life.

    And soon, she will learn that this case reached the ears of the magical world. Many magi from Clock Tower try to approach her, with most of them are the members of Botany faculty that she just learned the name from.

    She managed to kill them all, and she began to learn that she was capable of killing someone by touch alone, giving them the same sudden cancer as the burglar.

    One of her attacker, before he died says something that struck to her heart:

    “Playing with the dead, huh? Even in backwater Japan, Fairies like you are nasty.”


    Partial Necrosis

    As Fuyuno pieces the nature of her power through multiple encounters, she learns that she is extremely valuable in the world of magecraft. One of the magi informed her that they come for her not for fortune, but they want to kidnap the girl for experiments to research the First. Because she has been favored by a fairy witch, the Iwate Yosei (Fairy of Iwate), which the locals describe as fairies that can resurrect the dead.

    On that day, in 2011, she died with her parents. That’s what she learns from the magi’s babbling as they desperately try to capture her.

    Then how is she standing here? She remembers all the hardworks she put into to change her miserable state, and put all of her efforts into becoming what she is today. She is alive, she is scared, she is upset, there is no way she is not alive.

    Besides, how can she believe all this magic and fairy bullshit? The authorities already said the man died from undiagnosed cancer, who cares whether it is being sudden or not, that’s science!

    But then she heard something speaking.

    Not from nearby, but from within. From her own heart. As if someone directly speaks to her conscience.

    “FuYUNo-cHAn, I AlWAys lOVed yOu tHE MOsT! YOuR bEauTY, yOUr sWeET vOiCe, yOUR dReAM, EverYTHinG! I LoVE EVerYtHing aBOuT YoU! SO WhY yOu gO TO tOKyO aND lEAvE mE aLOnE? WHy yOU dEcIDed tO dIE LIke THaT! THoSE dAYs wERe hORRiBle!”

    “THaT’s WHy, FuYUNo-cHAn. WHeN yOu dIeD, I rEanIMatE yoUR cORpSe.

    A walking corpse, different in nature with vampires, as she retains her bodily metabolism and doesn’t thirst for blood. An advanced form of necromancy that only the Fairy kinds can do, reanimation of corpses not by controlling their joints alone, but also the very cells within her body. With the current technology, science can’t tell the difference whether she is alive or not.

    A power closer to First Magic, a power to materialize a mass from nothing and control it, albeit extremely localized and limited. The Iwate Yosei simply grants her the access of this power for her to continue ‘living’. What Fuyuno did on her attackers was simply an extension of it, she unconsciously controls the victims’ metabolism to rapidly produce cells, giving them fatal cancers in a span of minutes.

    On that day, when she was pierced with debris, her Soul was shattered. Before it was fully gone, the witch combines what was left with their own, carefully picking the parts of themselves that are similar with hers as replacements. With now possessing a stronger Soul than most humans, it can sustain her Body and Mind for days even in critical condition.

    “FuYUNo-cHAn. IT’s OkAY. I aLwAyS kNoW eVErYtHiNG aBOuT yOU! I kNoW deEp DoWN yOu wANt tO sUcCEeD! I kNoW yOu ARe PrOUd oF yOuR bEAuTy! I kNoW yOu tHiNk thE aLlowAnCe YoU hAD fRoM yOUr pArENts iSn’T EnOUgH! I kNoW yOu AlwAYs lUSt fOR tHAt bOY!”

    However, if that’s the case, is the current her still her from before? The fairy witch says she shouldn’t worry about it, because it fully knows her character through their fairy eyes; but that is still their reading of her person, isn’t it? There is no input nor consideration of how she sees herself?

    All this time, all the hardworks she did, all the efforts she put in, the spirits she gained from that tragedy, which one is her own? Which one is not the influence of the fairy witch? If she survived naturally, will she still become the person she is proud of like today?

    Her blood flow, her heartbeat, her brainwave, her beautiful skin, her emotional tear, her tired sweat, every molecule of her being, is now governed from the fairy’s magic. If she doesn’t wills it, if they doesn’t wills it, she will stay the way she is.

    Then… how much the current thought is hers?

    Is she still alive in the first place?

    If the fairy witch no longer loves her, will she instantly die?

    “FuYUNo-cHAn. IT’s OkAY. I aLwAyS kNoW eVErYtHiNG aBOuT yOU! ThErE iS nO WaY I wILL hATe yOU!”

  12. #212
    不死 Undead PA270's Avatar
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    Seiryuu Fuyuno: Well, that was certainly disturbing! And I mean that in a good way, obviously, because she's a wonderful tragedy of a character. Admittedly, I do think the connection to the prompt is a bit of a stretch, but that's really the only issue I have with it. Nicely done!

  13. #213
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    Illicia Gothel Trionfi

    Gender: Female
    Age: Unknown
    Height: 196 cm
    Weight: 91 kg
    Birthplace: Germany?

    Likes: Children, baking, beautiful things
    Dislikes: The passage of time, decay, people who fail to take advantage of their resources
    Natural Enemy: Alice Kunoji, Nursery Rhyme
    Day of Decisive Battle: At the end of the fairy tale, when the dreamers awaken

    Affiliation: Department of Botany, Clock Tower?
    Origin: Sweetness
    Elemental Alignment: Earth
    Circuit Quantity: A
    Circuit Quality: A+
    Circuit Composition: Abnormal


    The Brothers Grimm. Cataloguers of the folklore of Germany, codifiers of the fairy tale. Among the most famous stories of their collection is that of Hansel and Gretel. The story of two children abandoned in the woods by their parents, stumbling upon a witch living in a house made of baked goods. The witch, an eater of children, begins preparing the children for consumption, working the girl to the bone while attempting to fatten the boy. Eventually, however, she is undone by her own nearsightedness and the trickery of Gretel, allowing the children to take her riches and return to their father. A happy ending, most would say.

    To Illicia, it is a tragedy. But not quite for the reasons one might think.

    Even among the enigmatic members of the Clock Tower, Illicia is a mystery. Her origins are a complete mystery; despite having the triplicate name typically associated with a branch family, neither the Gothel nor the Trifoni have appeared in the registry of Magus families, and no other members have materialized. Ostensibly a lecturer, she has never had a single class, and most students don’t even know she exists. She is a curious being, at once entirely separate from the Clock Tower and yet interwoven into its fabric, with scores of papers to her name; most of them in the Department of Botany, but also Creation, Spiritual Evocation, and even one or two in Mineralogy.

    In short, she is a true enigma: a Witch who has seemingly both vanished into fantasy and yet remained attached to this world. So which is the truth? And does the truth truly matter?


    Illicia is a Witch. Witches eat children. Therefore, Illicia eats children. That is the core of her story, the defining element of her personality. She is a being who exists to feed upon children. It is a simple and pure expression of desire befitting a being distant from humanity, and a fairy tale archetype that has allowed her to maintain her existence into the modern age. As such, it is no wonder that she sees the story of Hansel and Gretel as a tragedy. However, it is not for the reasons one might think. Rather than lament the downfall of her brethren at the hands of lowly mortals, Illicia instead views the story as a tale of…wasted potential.

    For you see, Illicia doesn’t feed upon anything as common as human flesh. Why would she contaminate her body with such crude matter, when there are much finer delicacies to be harvested? Human beings are so rich in emotion and imagination, their dreams filled with such potential, that bringing them to an end would be downright wasteful! She looks upon her closest analogue with pity for her shortsightedness, both literal and metaphorical. Fattening one child for consumption while abusing the other? A recipe for failure.

    That is why her methods focus on spiritual harvesting and comfort. She deals in sleep and sugar, keeping her victims in stupors while she feeds upon their dreams. And she will linger over her meals for as long as possible, savoring them until her victim’s hearts give out. There is no reasoning with her, no communication, no mercy. She is a story manifest, and she will continue to tell herself until she can do so no longer.


    Gezuckerte Märchen

    Ploy Kickshaw. A style of Magecraft derived from the work of Yumina, based on the creation of Familiars kneaded from fantasy itself. Fairy tales come to life, they are the birthright of the Meinster lineage, and in the current generation have drawn from the works of Lewis Carroll.

    Sugar. A plant-based sweetener dating back to ancient times. Originating in various parts of Asia, it was not readily available in Europe until the mid-15th century, and even then it was a sign of the wealthy and influential. Of particular note were the sugar sculptures that decorated the banquet tables of royalty, a display of conspicuous consumption that was unthinkable for the average citizen.

    Illicia has combined these together to create her own unique system of Magecraft, known simply as Gezuckerte Märchen, or Sugared Fairy Tales. Stealing the basics of Ploy creation from the Meinsters and combining it with the Mystery inherent in the art of sugar sculpting enables Illicia to create a variety of Familiars by manipulating sugar crystals.

    These “faux-Ploys” are substantially less durable than regular Ploys, some of which have lasted since the Age of Gods, but in exchange, they are much easier to replicate. With Illicia’s tremendous amount of Magical Energy, she can create hundreds of small-scale Familiars in an instant, or build and maintain a smaller quantity of stronger Familiars for the length of a protracted battle.

    Naturally, as expected for a Witch, Illicia’s Familiars draw upon fairy tales as their base, with particular focus on the stories of the Brothers Grimm. However, she is not opposed to incorporating other stories into her spells, especially when they enable her to capture children more easily.

    Hamelin Piper

    Components: White sugar, flute music
    Manifestation: Musicians
    Effect: Mental domination
    Countermeasure: Block your ears.

    Hamelin Piper: Lullaby of Entrapment is Illicia’s most commonly used Familiar, as well as the easiest to produce. By scattering a handful of sugar dust and playing a brief melody on a flute, the sugar will take the form of miniature pipers, sculpted so immaculately that they could be mistaken for masterwork dolls. What is more, the previously pristine white sugar dyes itself in a variety of colors, becoming the very image of the Pied Piper himself. As they begin to play, their music will echo throughout the area, enacting Mental Interference Magecraft upon all those in the vicinity. Depending on the colors of the musician, the music will have a different effect and a different target.

    Musicians in cool colors (blue, green, indigo) play music only audible to adults, dragging them down into a dreamless sleep. This sleep cannot be interrupted by ordinary methods: no matter what may happen to or around them, they will not awaken. Musicians in warm colors (red, orange, yellow), on the other hand, play music only audible to children, which places them in a trance state. They will become completely subservient to the will of Illicia, following her wherever she goes without question, driven by beautiful dreams that constantly float just out of reach.

    By combining these two types, Illicia can swiftly enthrall entire buildings, trapping the adults in an unbreakable slumber while the children rush to join her. If left unchecked, her range could encompass an entire town, allowing her free reign to harvest her prey. However, not only are these Familiars extremely delicate, they also have a very simple method of defeat: blocking your ears. If the music cannot be heard, the spell cannot take effect.

    Glass Coffin

    Components: Sugar glass, almond paste, rose petals
    Manifestation: 10-20 times larger
    Effect: Preservation and harvesting
    Weakness: Heat

    Glass Coffin: Dual-Sided Crystal s both Illicia’s primary combat Familiar and her storage system. This Familiar, like Hamelin Piper, has two separate manifestations. However, unlike Hamelin Piper, these two manifestations are wildly difference, being based on two entirely separate stories: Snow White and The Glass Coffin.

    The combat application of Glass Coffin, drawing from Snow White, is activated by throwing out shards of sugar glass, which suddenly expand in size and take the form of tremendous mirrors. These mirrors are capable of surrounding and entrapping a foe in a sugary cage, a dome of mirrors reflecting their image over and over again. Inside this dome, all Magecraft will function at reduced efficiency, as the mirrors feed off the Magical Energy of the victim. They then use this energy to form soldiers of sugar glass, bombarding the opponent with a barrage of foes. Between the constant onslaught and the slow drain of power, the enemy will be defeated in short order, giving Illicia plenty of time to make her escape.

    However, the storage application, drawing from The Crystal Coffin is a more intricate process. It requires Illicia to actually build a sugar sculpture by hand, usually a coffin. She then channels Magical Energy into it, causing it to grow to full size. Anything placed in this coffin will immediately be put to sleep, their bodies preserved and their time halted. The sweet scent of the almond paste brings smiles to their faces, as they begin to dream sweet dreams. These dreams will begin to manifest as time goes by, flickering on the lid of the coffin like colored lights, before congealing into a small pastry. This pastry, when consumed, will provide a massive boost of Magical Energy to the consumer, having converted their dreams into pure power. The more vivid the imagination, the sweeter the dream, the greater the boost. And what’s more, these treats are a renewable resource; as long as the victim remains trapped, they will continue to dream, allowing Illicia to harvest from her victims for as long as they remain alive.

    Marchpane Castle

    Original form: A sugar sculpture
    Components: All manner of confections
    Manifestation: 30-50 times larger
    Effect: Creates a world
    Weakness: Awakening

    Marchpane Castle: Sugary Lair of the Witch is the culmination of Illicia’s Magecraft, the ultimate expression of her abilities. Derived from a fusion of the Brothers Grimm’s Hansel and Gretel and E. T. A. Hoffman’s The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, Illicia manifests a sprawling palatial complex made entirely out of confections. Gingerbread walls, plate sugar windows, candy and sweets covering every surface, it is an absolutely gorgeous sight, something out of a fairy tale.

    As soon as the castle emerges, it generates a Bounded Field that transforms the environs into a “Kingdom of Dolls”: a fairyland where everything is made of sweets and sugar, much like a Reality Marble. The “Kingdom” will slowly expand over time as the castle draws Magical Energy from the ground, converting the earth into pure confection. And naturally, all of this confection bends to Illicia’s will, allowing her to completely control the environs. Manifesting Familiars, setting traps, reshaping buildings, all of it is within her power.

    But naturally, such a tremendous expression of Magecraft would naturally require a great deal of Magical Energy, far more than Illicia can normally provide. Fortunately, she doesn’t have to provide it, for the floors of Marchpane Castle are lined with her Glass Coffins, all of them that she has collected throughout her long life. The sweet dreams of children are constantly fed into the castle, supporting its existence and expanding its reach. These children have been transformed themselves, their bodies lying in eternal sleep, their spirits held captive. But these children have no idea of their captivity; rather, they wander the halls of the castle in lifelike candy bodies, the royal servants of Illicia, allowed to play and live and dream in an endless childhood.

    However, it is this same freedom that provides the ultimate weakness to Marchpane Castle, and indeed to all of Illicia’s power. For while Illicia allows them the freedom to dream and enjoy themselves, they also have the freedom to awaken, if they should choose. And with each one that awakens, so too does Illicia’s power wane. So much of her life is tied to this castle, tied to her harvest, that enough of them waking might very well cause her to wink out like a candle, fading away with the dawn. For all stories must end with the defeat of the witch.

    Author's Notes

    Woo, got this one done just in time! I had this idea brewing from the moment I got the prompt, and I'm so happy I was able to finally bring it to fruition! And yes, this is a pretty blatant excuse to Nasufy one of my favorite minor Sailor Moon villains, but I hope it turned out well regardless! All images are stills from Sailor Moon SuperS: The Movie. Please let me know what you think! Positive or negative feedback is always appreciated! Thank you!.
    Last edited by PA270; Yesterday at 09:59 PM.

  14. #214
    Everyone's doing pretty good, favorite so far is definitely Seiryuu Fuyuno. Her deal as inbetween life and death is neat

  15. #215
    鬼 Ogre-like You's Avatar
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    Voting will begin 30th of November 1:00 am PST.
    If there are less than 6 entries by then, I'll extend it out by another week.
    Quote Originally Posted by FSF 5, Chapter 14: Gold and Lions I
    Dumas flashed a fearless grin at Flat and Jack as he rattled off odd turns of phrase.
    "And most importantly, it's me who'll be doing the cooking."
    Though abandoned, forgotten, and scorned as out-of-date dolls, they continue to carry out their mission, unchanged from the time they were designed.
    Machines do not lose their worth when a newer model appears.
    Their worth (life) ends when humans can no longer bear that purity.

  16. #216
    wwwww Spartacus's Avatar
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    Illicia Gothel Trionfi: I say using Ploy is very darring with Alice around, but she managed to be distinct of her own. Very nice!

    Quote Originally Posted by PA270 View Post
    Seiryuu Fuyuno: Well, that was certainly disturbing! And I mean that in a good way, obviously, because she's a wonderful tragedy of a character. Admittedly, I do think the connection to the prompt is a bit of a stretch, but that's really the only issue I have with it. Nicely done!
    I personally don't see it as streching since the prompt only says Witch and Botany, I don't think she need to be part of Botany in itself, just her character involved with it in some form (in this case, being hunted by them). As for the fairy witch, the term Yosei (Japanese for fairy) also means bewitching spirit, so I decided to interpret the fairy of Iwate being a witch themselves. Regardless, thanks for the comment!
    Last edited by Spartacus; Today at 02:45 AM.

  17. #217
    不死 Undead PA270's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Spartacus View Post
    I personally don't see it as streching since the prompt only says Witch and Botany, I don't think she need to be part of Botany in itself, just her character involved with it in some form (in this case, being hunted by them). As for the fairy witch, the term Yosei (Japanese for fairy) also means bewitching spirit, so I decided to interpret the fairy of Iwate being a witch themselves. Regardless, thanks for the comment!
    Totally valid! I think I was just a little hung-up on the Botany element, but you're absolutely right. Sorry for being nitpicky, and thank you so much for your comment on my work!

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