1, 5
did someone say cute girls
1, 5
did someone say cute girls
Originally Posted by Arashi_Leonhart
1, 5
Commence Operation: Paperclip
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
I'm trying desperately to come up with a plan that doesn't involve relations with a Nazi, but I've got nothing.
1, 5
I'll see y'all in hell
It's a bad idea, but too tempting not to choose. 1,5
It's a bad idea, but all others seem worse.
1, 5
1, 5.
There is nothing like a challenge to bring out the best in man.
Start with 1,5 but when/if things go wrong - 3,3
Quest of Fate
Apocrypha Universe Fate Quest Project
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"If".
Your optimism is inspiring, Hermes. :-P
Quest Master's Note: Those who participate in the Discord server don't need this note, but for everybody else, the Servant and NPC profiles in the second post have been updated and moved to Google Docs.
Lutheran Church of the Holy Cross
Day 03
Evening Phase – 02e
Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F; External Temperature)
(BGM)Character Status
Well, this is awkward.
Sthūla-Śarīra remains active because I am not pushing my body to a degree that would demand the spell’s forceful optimization. If I stick to things like standing and walking, then I can keep it active for a long time. But I’m digressing. The fact remains that I still have a dozen Nazi soldiers and one zombie tracking my slightest movements. “Darling” (it’s got to have a better name than that) still looms tall, monstrous and menacing behind its master. I can only play it safe and hope the others are alright. This might be a chance to get new intel…if I make it out of this church alive, that is.
“Well, thank you. This might just be the nicest hostage situation I got myself into,” I find it in myself to say as I settle on the pew next to Senta. It’s a weird thought but, she does not smell. Of anything, I mean.
“Oh, so I’m not your first?” The woman replies, her unsettling grin still bearing liveliness poorly matching how wicked it looks. Also, subtle, this girl is not.
“Oh, no, no, you are. I mean…well, considering I’m a prisoner, I guess I was expecting handcuffs and iron bars and overall something a lot more uncomfortable.”
“I can do that if that’s what you’re into.” She sounds way too excited as she says that.
“Uh, please spare me.”
Senta laughs wholeheartedly. Stomping the floor and everything. Really, it’s like she has just discovered laughter.
“Ah, alright, alright, I’ll be nice.”
After that, she just looks at me for a few seconds of nervous silence (for me).
“Alright,” she finally murmurs before turning on the pew to fully face me.
“I like the physiognomy of your face,” she then says.
Seriously, just what.
“…excuse me?”
“I said something nice about you. Your turn now, come on,” she says as she pushes up her bust, as if presenting herself to me. Her expression brims with enthusiasm, all the while I wonder why this is happening to me.
I miss the cargo ship. Can I go back there, pretend nothing of this ever happened?
“Um…” My head is starting to hurt. That should not even be possible with Sthūla-Śarīra, damn it. “Uh, you look great in that uniform…?”
“Really? You think so?” Her eyes gleam behind those glasses. “I mean, I don’t wear it all snug like Elisabeth—because you’ve got to be a masochist to dress like that, I swear—, and I haven’t got Ortrud’s gag boobs, so I thought I might come out a bit drab, but if you say it’s good, then great!”
With almost childlike joy, Senta pulls out a pocket-sized notebook and a pencil.
“Alright! ‘Flirting’, check!”
“Um…” This time my curiosity is stronger than me. “You lost me.”
“Ah, don’t mind me; I’m checking off the things I manage to do before I die.”
…huh. Now there’s no way I’m telling her that wasn’t flirting at all.
*** ***
Outside the Lutheran Church
(BGM)
A short staircase separates Beethoven Street from the elevated position on which the church stands. There is also an access ramp to approach from the north. Seigi Nomikata stands at the base of these stairs. He feels watched, but he does not perceive any immediate threats.
As long as he does not see any Nazis—the very thought feels weird in his head—, he will focus on his purpose. He has to help the person (people?) held captive inside this church. Like Lily said, he cannot just rush in and take on who-knows-how-many soldiers with guns plus whatever else is actually in there. However, he does not need to. The way to attack has already been revealed to him. Would he have come up with this idea on his own? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He has no choice but to acknowledge the brilliance of his rude teacher.
He checks his surroundings before climbing up the stairs, and that is when he notices. Some two blocks away, a dark-haired man sits on top of a long metal cylinder, looking straight at him. The distance makes it hard to tell, but Seigi thinks he might be smoking.
Naturally, a metal cannon barrel mounted on an armored truck is not something that can be lifted by a single person.
Seigi blinks, his brain taking a moment to catch up to the utterly unexpected. He is not dead yet, so at least that’s good…?
Naturally, the British gentleman does not see the young lady in uniform looking down at him from the top of the stairs. Even if he looked in that direction, he would still fail to see her.
Well, such is life. To be a magus is to walk with death, and all that.
Decision Time
Last edited by Daneel Rush; May 27th, 2019 at 11:33 PM.
Catalog of Somewhat Original Servants
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1
You've got Defiant Virago at B and B+ in Saver's sheet.
1, Seigi’s making his comeback in QoF and it would be a shame if a giant cannon turned him to paste (before I have the chance)
Quest of Fate
Apocrypha Universe Fate Quest Project
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I trust Hermes's Creator instinct
1
You can discussThe OG RequiemConQUEST and other Quests in Discord (disc is much more active here).
Click the image to ConQUEST
I'm less worried about the cannon and more about the invisible Nazi - but then again, it's not as if Seigi can do anything about it, so eh.
1, too.
1. It's only fair to let Seigi's creator decides how he will die. :>
1. (I wanted to say 4, but everyone else is right. FOOOOOOOCUUUUUSSSSS…)
Likes attention, shiny objects, and... a ball of yarn?
F/GO Supports
I joined two years too late...
Outside an Unknown Location
Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F)
(BGM)
The Servant Lancer, aka “Lily”, allows herself a small sigh before opening the door and setting foot outside. The cold of Valparaíso strikes her as harshly as it does everybody else, but she pays it no heed. The sight before her is not surprise—it is exactly as she has predicted—but it nonetheless elicits a second sigh.
Liria, who has already noticed her arrival, is presenting her with a guilty look.
“I cannot offer you much protection if you step out of my sanctuary.” Lily does not like stating obvious things, but she ignores her displease this one time.
“Um, yeah, I…” Lily patiently waits for the other girl’s sense of propriety to overcome her pride. “I…I can’t believe I actually made it all the way here before realizing I’m being an idiot.”
“I can.”
Again as predicted, Liria stops herself to stare at the complete Servant. Of course she does. Her are a jab at Liria, but the other woman can tell there is more to her words than mere denigration.
“What is in your mind, whore?”
There was no reaction from the local girl. By this point, “whore” had become just another means of address, like “girl” or the occasional “child”.
“Um, I mean, well…”
Lily is a statue, while Liria cannot stop pacing in front of the hostel they have turned into a “sanctuary” while fidgeting and darting her eyes in every direction, like she needs to keep the entirety of her body in motion.
“I mean, it’s weird, not doing anything, and I can only wait and hope Mr. Nomikata pulls it off, but I’d really like to see what’s going on and I can’t and I’m worried about Maria who is unconscious with the Hexensoldaten prowling around and all those soldiers and Rider’s about to use that thing and for all I know he’s gonna level down all these hills just to kill one person because he strikes me as the kind of desperate lunatic who’d do that, and there’s the Sovereign who looks like he’s just wasting his time and I’d really would like to know what he’s up to but also don’t because I’m afraid of what’ll happen when he stops literally fucking around and don’t even get me started on The Maid but more like, what’s the deal with those monsters that came out of the sea today and fuck it I hope Diego is dead but my luck is shit so he’s gonna pop up with some stupid ass power-up—”
“Shut up or I will make you.”
Liria does stop her deluge of words, but her body is all but vibrating on the spot, like the lid of a pot full of boiling water.
“You need a nap.”
Liria huffs.
“Already told you there’s no way I’ll—”
“Sooner or later you will have to confront your feelings.”
Lily’s face remains impassive even as she witnesses the spectrum of emotions from surprise to anger to betrayal to trepidation flow across Liria Colhuán’s face. The Chilean looks like she wants to say something, anything, but no words assemble in her mind.
“You cannot escape your own thoughts and emotions by focusing on anything and everything else.”
Liria licks her tongue and avoids the other Servant’s firm and unchanging stare.
“And since when do you care?” Her words are loaded with bile.
“I loathe to witness talent being squandered. It sickens me.”
Liria Colhuán looks like she wants to fire back in some way, but nothing comes out of her mouth. Lily instead gestures towards the door behind her.
“When was the last time you sat down and let yourself think? There are plenty of free rooms, take one and settle down for a moment.”
It is not merely that Liria has been active since the moment the Singularity swallowed the Chilean city. She has been constantly using her familiars to monitor dozens of locations simultaneously, all the while reacting to everything that’s happening, fighting for her life, protecting Javier Lucero from the shadows and betraying the Fourth Reich beyond their sight.
“Come in. Take an hour or two.”
“But what about—”
“You are an adult,” Lily harshly interrupts. “You know by now that most things happen outside your control. Rest now, so that you may properly face whatever is to come.”
Tension remains in Liria’s face for a moment, but she eventually becomes calmer, or perhaps resigned, and walks towards the hostel’s door.
“Weird words coming from the likes of you,” she says; one last barb before surrendering to Lily’s proposal.
“The ways of ordinary humans apply not to one such as I.”
Liria is a little too tired to roll her eyes this time, but the other Servant does not give her time for a retort.
“It is not a privilege I asked for, but it is nonetheless one nobody can—”
Having walked past Lancer and into the hostel, Liria can only catch the awkward pause, but does not turn her head to check on the other girl before she resumes her speech.
“—take from me.”
Liria Colhuán has too many things in her head by this point to pay notice to the sadness reverberating in those last few words.
*** ***
Beethoven Street
Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F)
(BGM)
After a pointlessly long moment of staring at each other from almost a hundred meters across, the distant redheaded figure takes to the stairs to his left, climbing towards the Lutheran Church. Oliver Drake releases a breath he did not know he was holding, loading with cigarette smoke. His first guess would be another pitiful soul trapped inside the frozen city. However, according to their working theory, if the redhead is indeed not one of the Nazis or their Servants, that would make him a magus…well, not necessarily. For all they know, the condition might solely be “possessing magic circuits”. If a person has lived their entire life ignorant of the hidden world of magi despite possessing the aptitude, Oliver would not be surprised that a sudden shock to the degree of the great freezing three days ago forcefully awakened their circuits.
Well, no point in thinking about it. Oliver does consider calling out to the guy or even approaching and check if he’s having trouble, but the issue of an imminent Nazi attack is something he just cannot put aside. The issue remains, however, of the magic cannon thingamajig being way too goddamn heavy. He is proud of his reinforcement, true, but he would probably drop dead of magical energy depletion right after carrying this thing to the promenade.
The alternative, then, would be rolling the cannon barrel down the street. The irregular snowy pavement will not make this easy or quick by any means. By this point Oliver is wondering if anybody among them can even use the thing. That Marco Ahrens seems to know about it, so perhaps…?
Oliver’s Choice
The Master of Nigredo, Seigi Nomikata, walks up the stairs towards the Lutheran Church of the Holy Cross. The dire feeling of being watched does not cease, becoming only more intense with every step. It pushes him to take them slowly, carefully, despite the urgency of his mission.
He is sweating. The heat provided by his magic circuits does not explain this. Is he being watched from the top of the bell tower? Likely. But he has not yet been attacked. Most strange.
He exhales, and a shudder spreads from his chest towards the ends of his limbs. Seigi thus knows: he is afraid. It is the instinct of a man who has known imminent death and nonetheless overcome it.
A Servant? No, a Servant would not need all this build-up. If the threat were a Servant, Seigi Nomikata would already be dead.
He hears a sound like footsteps on snow at top of the stairs. A step forward, and then he stops. If he rushes upstairs, it might be seen as hostility. There is a spell, one of the few crumbs Lily has thrown him, but starting to cast a spell here might also elicit retaliation. Is there really nothing he can do?
He chooses to simply move forward.
By the time he reaches the end of the stairs, his clothes are soaked in sweat. However, he remains alive and unharmed. Unmoving, he circulates magical energy, looking for mental interference acting on his form but finding none. His eyes dart around: nothing within sight. The pressure in his mind is receding. For whatever reason, reaching the top of the stairs has diminished the feeling of imminent doom.
He is alone. He feels alone.
“Focus,” he whispers to himself.
He walks slowly, as quietly as possible, parallel to the walls of the church. He has no intention of going in.
“…nigredo.”
The “keywords” are “church”, “undead”, and “bounded field”.
Lily said to focus on the intent of the alchemist. The first stage of the Magnum Opus. Nigredo is unraveling and destruction, but not for its own sake.
Hands no longer wearing gloves are made to rest on the wall. His magical energy is already circulating both inwards and outwards. The inward flow gives the energy a certain “color”. The outward flow pours that color into the world unseen. His mind idly goes back to the text he is currently studying, the seemingly nonsensical notes of that Nazi wanker. The circulation there…it might be connected. Was Lily expecting him to make this connection?
It brings a chuckle to his lips. Of course, he has an excellent teacher. Albeit a rather rude one.
His magical energy reaches not to the wall, but to the bounded field enveloping this territory. The wall is merely a reference for sympathetic magic—to reach for an invisible enclosure through a tangible, physical one. He intends to destroy neither wall nor bounded field, although it is likely the latter will fall apart if he succeeds nevertheless. Before destroying it, he intends to use it to define the spatial boundary of his own magecraft.
The intent of nigredo is purification.
“Church”. A holy place. A place that rejects both undeath and magecraft.
Seigi Nomikata’s mission is to purify this building of all unwelcome things in a single blow.
He grunts. A vein palpitates in his temple. His arms are on fire, as if his own magecraft were unraveling them from the inside out. Nonetheless, he smirks.
His beautiful teacher does not assign easy homework.
But he feels like he can ace this one.
*** ***
Lutheran Church of the Holy Cross
Day 03
Evening Phase – 03
Severe Cold (-30 °C/-22 °F; External Temperature)
(BGM)Character Status
“What? Think about it,” Senta apparently sees something in my face that urges her to explain herself. “I’m an artificial human, designed to fulfill a specific role. Once I fulfill that role, I’ll die. Might as well enjoy myself while I can. Life is short, and all that.”
“You are a necromancer.”
“Yup!” Senta nods almost smugly. This person…despite her appearance, she uses a lot of childlike mannerisms. She says she’s an artificial human, is it related to that? But the other two did not behave like her…
“What do you mean by ‘artificial’? Is it like a test tube baby?”
“Pfft!” Senta is clearly amused. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m more of a clay doll that’s been given life by ancient magic. A homunculus is the most accurate term, I guess. From a ‘modern’ standpoint.”
A word I recognize. I studied alchemy, after all. I guess if magic is real, then something like a homunculus should be possible. Just what are the limits of magecraft, anyway? I wonder why she made air quotation marks when she said “modern”, though.
“So, when you talk about your role, you mean…”
“Ah, I guess, to do what I’m told? I mean, if I don’t follow orders, I’ll be killed, and being alive is fun.”
The more she speaks, the more I see of this girl, the more the question pokes in the back of my head. Therefore, I ask.
“You…are you really a Nazi?”
“What’s a Nazi?” Senta replies with clear amusement in her face. “I mean, if we go by ‘members of the National Socialist German Workers Party’, then only His Majesty and Rider are Nazis. If we go by ‘followers of the Hitlerian world view’, hmm…I wonder.”
Senta seems to be seriously pondering this, and I am not sure how to follow up on that answer.
“Rather than a ‘Hitlerist’, His Majesty is a total ‘He-ist’. What would you expect of a guy that demands to be called ‘Your Majesty’? And Mr. Hitler was a totalitarian, but he was not a monarchist.”
I nod.
“But His Majesty does believe in the Aryan master race, and the point of this whole thing is to scourge the world of everybody except for the ‘chosen people’ or whatever. That’s very Nazi.”
This is the strangest, most elucidating conversation. So that’s the aim of the Nazis in Valparaíso? Racial cleansing? But then…isn’t Valparaíso a really weird place to do that?
“So yeah, between yes and no, I’d go with, yes, they are Nazis. Well, His Majesty is twisting the concept a bit to place himself at the center, but overall it’s the same deal.”
“What about you?” I insist. “Are you a Nazi?”
“Hmm…” She tilts her head and purses her lips. She looks like she finds something disagreeable in the question. “I’m not even human. What humans choose to do to each other is none of my business, really.”
This person does not even consider herself a human. But are there really many differences between us?
“But this plan, this whole ‘Singularity’ thing, it’s killing a lot of people.”
“Yup.”
The easygoing reply makes me frown.
“Doesn’t that bother you? Are you fine with this?”
Senta is silent. She looks at me, studies me, looks for something in my eyes for a moment. Then, suddenly, she flicks her gloved fingers.
“Ah, that’s how it is. This is about ‘the sanctity of human life’ and ‘life is special, and precious, and important’, right? Hmm, hmm.”
She nods eagerly, as if proud of herself for figuring it out. The simple smile—which she still cannot stop herself from making it look villainous—she wears somehow tells me I’m not going to like the answer.
“Well, look at it from my point of view.” She continues. “I was purposely built, and my life is at the mercy of my maker. If my maker flicks a finger right now, I’ll break apart in front of you. There is nothing I can do about it.”
Neither her words nor her body language are meant to elicit compassion. She is merely saying it as it is, and she has completely accepted the fundamental unfairness of her existence.
“I have no control over my life, which makes it effectively worthless. However, because my creator is a bitch, I have a sense of self-preservation like every animal, and an appreciation for my own existence like every human. I like being alive, and I want to live for as long as possible. Even if I exist at the mercy of that person.”
She shrugs.
“There are only five others like me. On the other hand, there are billions of humans out there. Yet it turns out we six are the worthless ones, and every single of those billions of people is unique and precious and special? The hell’s with that?”
She is chuckling. It comes out darkly, and my feelings revolve between loathing and pity.
“Really, what I’m getting at is, well, you can’t really expect me to care, do you?”
I…I don’t really know what to say. I feel like I’m not the one who’s been asking these questions, like I’ve been doing so out of a sense of propriety or whatever. I…have never put much thought into things like good and evil, or the value of one’s life, so it feels little hypocritical to expect or demand such things from somebody else. Then again, she’s one of the bad guys, so it makes sense she’s twisted, right?
No, isn’t there something fundamentally wrong in that sentence?
Is a person bad because they do the wrong things? Does being a good person make their actions correct? It feels like the answers are important, but I…I never, really…
…perhaps I’m too disconnected to the issue. The specter of World War 2 never reached me or my family, so I have no personal stake on this whole deal. But, that’s not really an excuse. I don’t need to be a Jew or a war veteran to acknowledge that Nazism was evil. No, Nazism has nothing to do with this. Even if she were not wearing that uniform, this girl…Senta’s thought process is twisted.
Her life is twisted, so she could only reach a twisted conclusion.
Our eyes meet. What is the meaning of that smile? She…it seems she understand I’m struggling with my thoughts. Does she pity me for it? Does that amuse her? Do those other two girls think in the same way?
It’s kind of a shame she is where she is. Rather, everything about her is unfair.
I’m not sure what I want to say, but I feel like I have to say something by this point.
However, before I can do or say anything, everything goes awfully wrong.
*** ***
Atkinson Promenade
Fiore Forvedge is still not doing a single thing.
Sakura Edelfelt shows off the strength of the European Women’s Tag Team Wrestling Champion, bearing the weight of half a dozen automobile doors looped around her shoulders. The retired magus smiles placidly as she walks by her side. They approach the lone Marco Ahrens, completely immersed in his own world as he examines the machinegun now planted at the top of the stairway. It is obvious to both the approaching women that the man’s mind is somewhere else and very far away.
After trading glances, Fiore takes the role of announcing themselves. Marco Ahrens looks the kind of man who would be dangerous to surprise.
“Is there something interesting about this gun, Mr. Ahrens?” Sakura inquires while they are figuring out the best way to set up their makeshift barrier.
“Yes.” The lone man takes a moment before adding to that single word. “But this is no time for that. That man, Drake was it? We need him to weld these together.”
“I can do it if we’re out of time.”
“The-there’s no need to hurry…” Sakura retorts weakly to Fiore’s offer, quickly realizing that, yes, they are in a bit of a hurry.
“No sign of Javier, either,” points out Fiore, even if she does not seem that worried. Perhaps the fearsome display earlier in the afternoon has convinced her that he can take care of himself, even if he is a filthy Theosophist.
“Rather than that, it’s too quiet.”
Marco easily gets the women’s attention with those words.
“We’re the ones making all the noise, and they’re likely tracking all our movements, but we have yet to see a single hint of them. In this silent city, we should be able to hear the approaching trucks and tanks long before they reach the base of the hill. And I haven’t seen a single soldier down there,” he says, gesturing towards the forest at the base of the stairs.
“You think they will not use this route,” Fiore states, startling Sakura.
“Bu-but, if they’re not coming through here, and they’re not using vehicles, then…?”
“Maybe they’re using the streets but coming on foot,” Fiore suggests. “Or maybe they have another route we are not aware of.”
“Or maybe we’re readying ourselves for an attack that will never come,” Marco counters. “Truth is, we do not know enough.”
“Then what do we do?”
Sakura’s question is the question in the minds of all three of them.
Tactical Decision
Catalog of Somewhat Original Servants
In Progress: Fimbulwinter Quest Project.
Beast's Lair Quest Discord Server
Frakk me, I need to mull over our optionswhile ignoring the urge to ask to change the difficulty settings.
1
2. Sakura
4. Fiore
1. Roll the cannon!
Okay… I don’t know whether I should be worried or relieved that the mech might be our only enemy. Of course, we really need to get Javier out of…wherever he is. I’m hoping that something just exploded.
However, Liria said that the soldiers are mobilizing (running around everywhere), that doesn’t sound like they’re preparing an ambush. There’s likely something else in the vicinity that’s caused things to go silent.
(Monsters coming from the sea?! Please be Deep Ones, please be Deep Ones, please be Deep Ones…)
2. Sakura
3. Fiore — we need Maria to wake up, and Fiore probably can’t defend herself, so she should retreat and see about tending to Alicia and Maria.
Likes attention, shiny objects, and... a ball of yarn?
F/GO Supports
I joined two years too late...
Oliver: 1
Sakura, Fiore and Marco: Fiore - 1, Sakura - 2, Marco - 3
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