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<Snipped quote by ADamnFiddle>
See, that one I actually have on my account (and cannot get the hang of). Not EUIV or CKII, though.
yfw I have 1.7k hours on Eu4, 1k on CkII, and around 700 on Vicky 2. I think I have an addiction. Send halp.
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A Biomechanical interpreter of memetics
Bio
Ground Control to Major Tom
Most Recent Posts
yfw I have 1.7k hours on Eu4, 1k on CkII, and around 700 on Vicky 2. I think I have an addiction. Send halp.
<Snipped quote by Beloss>
Crusader Kings II, more like. :p
More of a fan of Vicky 2 personally. Someone needs to unite the Germanic people under one banner.
Cu Chulainn, Lancer
@AtomicNut
@VitaVitaAR
@Raineh Daze
“Alright, alright. I understand, Master,” Lancer says in a rather nonchalant manner of tone. Of course, he was the sort to act in the defense of his Master. Even if his master was a child, he was still obligated by the oath of his contract to protect her. There were a few cases where perhaps he would not listen to the orders of someone holding his seals, but they tended to fall under “absolute evil” and “people who should not have had the seals in the first place.”
“Sorry for any intrusion I think I caused in this here ‘family reunion’. It isn’t my place to say what my Master can and cannot do. They are their own person, after all, even if she is a bit young. If my worries were unfounded, then I suppose I am the one at fault here.”
Perhaps there was a bit of jealousy in Cu’s voice as to have a descendant. He had been someone who had burned the candle at both ends. A fantastic light, but one that burns out quickly. There were things he imagined that with his current knowledge he could better avoid or prevent, but he had no regrets in his life. Even to the son he had killed, if he were to regret his choices there it would merely be an insult to the entirety of those who looked up to his legend and to those he had inspired with his tales throughout history.
“But still, I didn’t expect a cute face like that under that hood. Maybe you should wear something cuter if you look a lot prettier.”
Her features were, at the very least, modest. Perhaps it was the cloak she wore, but it seemed to hide away her beauty as if someone wished to conceal her; as if she could not appear before others. Perhaps that wasn’t completely untrue. Even if she was a witch, Cu wasn’t the sort to completely hold someone to their actions so long as they didn’t affect him. “Affecting him” could have any varied meanings like simply doing something he doesn’t like.
Cu was the sort to be able to change his emotions in a situation on the fly. Perhaps not exactly “on the fly”. It was more like within his conversations with Servants he always saw his opponents as “someone I should have to fight”.
But there was no one to fight in the current situation. At the very least the person before Cu was not an “enemy”, and likely, considering the circumstances, would not be someone he would have to fight in the future. At least he hoped not. If the Caster-class Servant was going to simply allow for his Master to do as she pleased, Cu would be content in this situation.
“Besides, I have to look good in front of my Master, no?”
But that was when he had heard a voice that he had not heard in … well, his life was short and one could say that the throne of heroes doesn’t truly have a concept of “time” or anything along those lines, but in ages nonetheless. A voice that he respected and cherished, though perhaps not as much as the “other Cu” would.
A beautiful figure of a woman stood before Lancer. And in her voice she simply said the words ‘Lancer’.
“T-Teacher?”
It was a bit of a confusion for the hero known as Cu Chulainn. The woman he respected as both a warrior and a teacher. And not only was she an extremely capable warrior, but someone who’s looks Cu did fancy.
Cu had thought that due to her disposition, she would have never been able to see him again. He had not been able to rightfully end her during his life. Perhaps not a regret that Cu did have, but like his descendant he did wish there was someone to have ended his teacher, whom of which had placed much of her faith in being able to die to his spear.
There were many things he wanted to ask her but couldn’t. Even Lancer, who was simply a warrior at heart, felt the weight of his actions. The teacher he loved. He couldn’t meet her expectations. He was born too young. Too young.
“Teacher, I never thought I’d be able to see you again.”
Ravel Livoria D’Arby
@Nanashi Ninanai
“Then if you shall accept me as a Master, I shall give you my all, Caster! I mean Himiko! I am glad that you were approachable. I have to say that i was a bit astonished by your beauty, but I am glad to see you are a nice person.”
A smile was plastered upon Ravel’s face.
Perhaps it was true. Ravel was a somewhat easily impressed individual. The sort of person to care much about the current position they found themselves within through its fantastical existence known as the “world of magecraft”. Simply put, an observer who watched those around her and their craft, and someone who wished to make a name for themselves in the magi scene as her family had long ago.
But idealism tended to lead magi to ruin, if not by their actions within the confines of creating enemies to simply understanding magic that is too dangerous to exist.
“Although a bit taboo, I will say that my family practices curses and spirits. I will understand if you are off put by such magecraft, and I will understand why considering the stigma against such, but it is still the magecraft of my bloodline which I respect. As the leader of the D’Arby house of England, I will make my family great once more!” .
Even if she was someone who was “idealistic”, she was not the sort to wish to ruin herself. Ravel was the only hope for her bloodline; a nasty group of degenerates who practiced arts frowned upon by contemporary magicians. She would restore their craft to its former prominence.
“However, I am a tad bit hungry from my arrival here, so I would like you to accompany with you meal if that would please you. I would love to discuss anything you would wish to speak about, but I don’t want to force you. I believe we are a partnership rather than a traditional “servant and master”, as you have said. It is merely the titles we draw. So long as you are willing to support me, I will wish to support you as well, Caster.”
<Snipped quote by ADamnFiddle>
It must be the work of an enemy S T A N D!
A collective hallucination
That is my headcanon
Also I'll get a post out when I get the time.
That is my headcanon
Also I'll get a post out when I get the time.
@ADamnFiddle: Going to be honest, your dialogue text is hard to read and Lancer probably shouldn't know every detail of Medea's myth. I don't think he heard her name and the Fifth War hasn't happened in this timeline. ^^;
Medea's story, at least in the west, was something influential, which is the point I am getting at. Considering how knowledge works within the confines of the Throne, I don't think it would be impossible for him to 1) Recognize the name Medea [which was said aloud] and 2) know of Medea's actions from a tale that influenced Western Europe, which paints her as an evil witch. But I can change my post if it doesn't suit you.
@Raineh Daze
As for the text, I can change the color to appear more aesthetically pleasing.
Shinobu Shiratori
@ShadowKingman
@Cojemo
@KoL
She had done it. Shinobu had summoned a Servant truly worth her time. Someone who had to be at least as powerful as her claimed rival, Felix. At the very least, she believed that what she had drawn would be able to benefit the Mage known as Zelretch in the quest he had given Shinobu with his request.
“Then as long as we work together, I am sure that with our greatness we can defeat any adversity. After all, you are a Servant worthy of me, and I assure you that I am a Magus worthy of the Prince.”
Perhaps it was a bit too cocky to speak with a Servant in such a way, but that was the sort of magus that Shinobu was. The Shiratori family wasn’t particularly amazing magi, but at the very least they were damn skilled and ensured that their daughter had surpassed what they were able to produce. Skillful activation of eastern magecraft was completely different than the perception of western magecraft.
“But know that it isn’t vanity. If I don’t believe that I am able to defeat what is before me, then who will? There is no one that isn’t an ally that would want me to fail, but even if I do have such “allies”, I must ensure that through my own strength I am able to pull my weight.”
However, There was a term that Shinobu had, at this time, be a bit weirded out by. Perhaps it was a misunderstanding, or perhaps her Servant had truly intended to use this term, but so long as they were partner Shinobu felt that she needed to know if her partner’s statement was true or not.
“Prince? How could someone like you be a ‘Prince’? You’re too cute!”
There was no way that someone as beautiful as this individual before her could be a boy. At least, she hoped not, as it might shatter a bit of her pride as a woman.
But that was no matter. At the very least, Shinobu wished to show off her newly acquired “toy of sorts” to Felix. If he was going to state that she didn’t belong within the confines of the war, than her drawing Prince Nezha, the Subjugator of Dragons, would not have been possible.
Turning to face Felix and to see what sort of Servant he had summoned, she stopped when her eyes darted to the face of an extremely handsome man. Perhaps a true prince charming. Though it could be said that her Servant was cute, the Servant who she had looked at was perhaps one of the most beautiful individuals she had ever seen in her life.
A prince charming. Someone you would perhaps want to sweep you off of your feet and drag you around the countryside.
But even the most novice of Magi could tell what was happening, A “curse” of sorts not unlike a mystic eyes. With a simple activation of her magical circuits, she was able to limit the effects of the “curse”.
“Hmm. it appears that the Master is nothing like his Servant in this case. A pretty Servant paired with a loser like you. Perhaps if this was a normal grail war I would have challenged you to a fight by now, but we are under orders to work together. Don’t think of me as an ‘ally’ though. I don’t want to be associated with someone who would steal a girl’s underwear like you.”
Cu Chulainn, Lancer
@AtomicNut
@VitaVitaAR
@Raineh Daze
“Dog… I suppose that isn’t too far off from the truth. I am Cu Chulainn of the Lancer Class, the greatest hero of Ireland. Pleased to meet ya’, Master. I guess I did want my Master to be a cute girl, but I didn’t expect her to be a little girl. Not that I can complain. I can tell that you are a really good Master at the very least. Better than good, even.”
A degree of pride seemed to show from Cu’s tone of voice in saying his name. Perhaps it wasn’t unwarranted. As he had stated, the Heroic Spirit “Cu Chulainn” was similar to someone like King Arthur was to the English, Roland or Joan D’Arc was to the French, or Heracles was to the Greeks. Simply put, a hero of great status, and one that cannot be understated. According to a certain Red-Cloak-wearing archer, there were hardly three Lancers who could match him in skill, and none in that caliber that could match his speed. If this was a normal holy grail war, knowledge of his name would surely give his enemies an advantage, but Cu wasn’t the sort of Servant to go down without a fight.
There was a bit of resentment in the fact he had been referred to as a “dog” by the little girl, but perhaps the combination of her age and compliments gave him the ability for this moment to forgive such a transgression. It didn’t seem like she meant any harm from it. However, there were a few people he knew that would use the term “dog” as an insult towards him. But Lancer sensed no malice from this little girl.
“But I am not the kind to ever back down from a fight. As long as you are my Master, I shall give you my all. Hell, I’ll kill a god if I have to. Not that I mind. I’ll protect you with my life. That is the way of the Red Branch; the Ulster way. The men of my country will keep to their words. Give me something to fight and I don’t think I can be dissatisfied.”
Perhaps the phrase “Try to keep their words” fits a bit better. Lancer was the sort to try their best to keep all their promises, but in the end that seemed to place him in a difficult spot. A man who liked irrational promises and beautiful woman. A man who was undone by one of the women in his life.
However, to the little girl who had summoned him, he would give his all to achieve victory for her. At the very least he would enjoy proving his spear against whatever he was fighting. If she was the one that the Grail had given him a contract with, at the very least he would respect that agreement.
That was about the time where his little Master had chosen to run off towards another group, requesting that he stay behind. But it wasn’t like he could really listen to this request. He didn’t know where she was going or why, but he knew there were a few dangerous people in the crowd of Servants.
“Sorry, I think I misplaced something of mine. Sorry about that, witch. Guess she is a bit hyper, but I doubt she means wrong..”
Though Cu seemed to speak with a degree of his cool about him, If he had even a single hint of an inclination that the “Witch of Colchis” had a desire to harm a hair on his Master’s head, in that same moment he would take the enemy's heart. Perhaps it was the fact that the two Servants were supposed to be “allies” that prevented someone like Cu Chulainn from acting upon this thought. A murderer of Children was within his sights.
Lancer was the sort of person who could easily laugh with his enemies, but he held no respect for the woman before him. Someone who had betrayed the trust of her kingdom, her husband, and worst of all her children. To Cu, who had made a promise to protect the little girl, he would be damned if she were to get hurt. Perhaps it wasn’t unlike a watchdog protecting its master?
In
Life in a different world [A Re:Zero setting / Fantasy RP] (Accepting!)
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
?????
Royal Capital Lugnica
@Lucius Cypher
@GamerXZ
@Zelosse
It was his time to shine. The hero of the story. The person given by divine right the ability to continue throughout his existence. He had given his grace to all those around him. He had found his “ally”.
Another person with the same “smell” as him.
Someone who was given the same “love” as him.
Someone who was in the same “boat” as him.
Oh! Marvelous time. Oh! Great time. Oh! Wonderful time.
How could there be someone who was “loved” like him. Was this the workings of fate? Was his “Lady” giving him a sign? He had to act. He was not going to interfere in the instance of battle. He was there to gain information. He wasn’t there for anything else besides that. However, the “stench” was perdiant in the air, filling his nostrils with the “love” of what he wanted. What he longed for. What he desired.
How could these people not see the LOVE!?
Why weren’t they asking what is going on?
Why weren’t they asking if he's going to stay?
Why weren’t they asking if he's going away?
“Oh yes _____,” His words seemed to distort, as if there was nothing there to begin with, but ‘something’ was heard. “I will. I will discover and take and know and become. Promised. Fulfill my reason. I'm strong enough, I know I am. Crack reality in two, then consume what pours out. But I can't. I'm not, I'm just man and flame and space and weak and weak and weak compared to the All, imperfect to the totality and infinity. Cannot be corrected, all but a futile wish.”
His tone began. The first of it’s kind. The elf girl and the boy who had accompanied her should have felt it. Something inhuman. Something that shouldn’t exist. Something that should not exist with “humanity”.
The fate of those who didn’t believe was dead. There was no exception. Even to those who believed, if there was a degree of disbelieve or questioning of his orders, there was only death. Unless they were like “him” and had the “voice”.
He had shown himself, but the shadow covering his face was still reflecting itself off the shine of the lampposts, and the crumbling remains of the rooftops.
Fear was a useful tactic. However, so is the lack thereof. For when an individual stops fearing a monster, the monster is able to act in any way to get close to its prey. The constant false reporting had given him his break to act as he wished to do within any portion of the world. The divine word allowed him to constantly dodge those who were not important. However, his divine word didn’t extend to the heretics in the area. They were nuisances. They needed to be “removed”. No one would interfere with his rise to the top.
They were heathens. Heretics. “Witches”. People who didn’t believe in the divine future his “Lady” desired. They must be punished. All who didn’t believe should be punished. But there was no instructions for him to continue.
Why
Why
Why
Why weren’t there instructions for what he must have done! Was the “Lady” testing him!? He needed to act. If he didn’t, he would lose his “ally in belief”. Someone who wanted what he wanted and that was the “Divine word of his lady”.
“Oh wonderful ally! Another who the lady have given her graces! I can see it upon you, friend; the mark! How could I ignore the suffering of my greatest friend I have never met? Is this divine intervention!? Is this fate!? Oh wonderful Lady, give me your Strength to overcome all adversities!”
As if speaking to a long-lost friend, he began to step forward, closer and closer to the friend where Mithral and the others were engaging in combat.
But he was no normal man. Anyone could tell, even with his face obscured by both a cloak and the shadows of the night reflected upon the flames which purged the area, Yes, they must all burn. Burn. Burn. Burn. Burn. Burn. Just like “they” had in the past. Just like he had “Seen”. A face of someone he knew, but couldn't put into fruition came to his mind. Perhaps they were someone he truly cared about, but once someone delves into the inhuman, humanity is lost forever. He didn’t care anymore. She was nothing. “She” was everything.
“WRRRRRY!” he croaked, shouting at the top of what he was able to produce, before shortly calming himself. However, even if it was a shout for him, it likely didn’t carry much weight. His voice had been destroyed long ago. His cries never heard. Except by “her”. He had the divine judgement of his purest “Lady” to deliver. There was no way for him to not abide from this.
Logic strove for order, but rational argumentation and transparent transfer of information were rooted in assumptions on the nature of being. Every mode of thought carries an ontology sequestered within it, but being is in a constant state of flux. If the origin is irreducibly plural, then not gaining access to the origin takes on another meaning. Its negativity is not that of the abyss. It need not operate in the dialectic mode of-
“My friend who I have never met, what would you ask of me!? Are we not lifelong friends who have just met!? I shall grace you with a single favor!”
However, the madman was in the middle of a battlefield. How could someone be oblivious to such a thing? The life-and-death situation could not be emphasized enough.
But for whatever reason, his hardly audible voice seemed to reverb as if possessing some sort of greater power. As if something was not all that it seemed about a man in a cloak walking towards the individuals.
There was something “wrong” with this man.
There was something “wrong” with this man.
There was something “wrong” with this man.
His presence. He couldn’t be real, but there he was. He “existed”.
He had appeared out of nowhere, as if appearing from the ether itself. This man was unrealistic. Someone who shouldn’t exist.
“Ah, I am sorry. Perhaps you have having fun with the … whatever they are. I don’t want to cause you discomfort as my long-lost friend who I have just met.”
His body seemed to shamble in an odd way, not unlike the jarred movements of a person constrained by something, but he didn’t seemed to have the posture that would suggest any such bondage.
“Oh, they are heathens. Then, my long-lost friend I had only just met, I shall assist you!”
Of course, there was no conversation. No thoughts shared between these two individuals. Perhaps individuals was not the correct word to use. They were freaks. Those who shouldn’t exist in this world. But even so, these two oddities seemed to flow endlessly into the waters of life as if it was their given rights.
The walk was a somber one. One that seemed almost lazy in its walk, bearing the rather jagged-like movements It was the sort of walk that someone would expect from a friend preparing to meet someone in the streets rather than a man going against a Ice magic using Elf.
Maria von Hohenzollern
Royal Capital Lugnica
@Zelosse
@Lucius Cypher
@liferusher
@FamishedPants
Tani?
What had happened. Maria had not comprehended the power of the sword. She had not the ability to know what it felt to have someone else control one's mind, shrouding it in darkness. Her blessing had prevented any sort of callings to reach her mind.
Maria didn’t care if she was in pain. She didn’t care if even within her darkest time she had to fight.
She cared that Tani was probably in danger. She couldn’t stand to know the fact that her ally had lost herself to the madness. Perhaps something along the lines of “Why couldn’t it have been me” reverberated through her mind, but there was little time for such a thing.
They weren’t strangers like the previous user of the sword.
They weren’t enemies who fought each other under the pretenses of order and disorder.
They were allies. They were friends.
No, they ‘are’ friends.
Perhaps she would not have noticed the situation had the young girl not heard the collision of blade and flesh from Tani’s assassination of Malakaus. It was an unfortunate situation, but Maria needed too analyse what she could do to better make the situation passable. To salvage what was terrible to something passable. She didn’t want any of her friends to die. She didn’t want the pedestrians like Aleph to die either.
She had moved into the fight to protect Aleph. She couldn’t allow him to die. Placing her blade in a fashion that would allow her to support the strength of the blow with her forearm, blocking the attack upon the flat of her blade.
Maria took her blade and attempted her best to push back her opponent. Tani wasn’t a weak person by far, but perhaps if Maria had the will of force to allow for such a thing to occur, perhaps she could save “Tani”. The individual known as “Maria” didn’t care for the safety of herself. She wanted to see her friend smile once more rather than losing her to the madness.
“I am sorry Tani. I will save you.”
Taking a stance that would seem to leave openings to her "ally", Maria stood there and waited. Waited for her friend to come to her like she always had.
Ravel Livoria D’Arby
@Nanashi Ninanai
She was stunned.
The person known as “Ravel D’Arby stopped being able to think for but a moment, captivated by what her own hands had pulled from the “deck”.
The Servant wasn’t a Saber like she had hoped to grab. The lady was a beautiful woman who wore the garb of the east. A beautiful thing that looked more like a flower than something for war. Her skin was pale and pretty, her hands hardly showing the strains of the world itself. Something that one would wish to protect and cherish beyond all possible doubt, almost as if a doll.
Even without being able to see her face, covered in some sort of ornate headdress of sorts, Ravel felt that like the rest of her body, it would be beautiful.
It is better to imagine the monster in a movie. Actually showing the creature indefinitely reduces it’s ability to match the thoughts produced by the audience. A device of “telling, but not showing”. Tantalizing the audience until they are able to piece together some rational thoughts of the creature itself rather than the creature showing.
On the individual level, mystery causes intrigue, but perhaps once this superficial layer of intrigue wears off, they learn that they never matched up to their expectations and choose to accept this, or move on.
And after but a moment, likely less than that of a second captivated by her beauty, Ravel regained the ability to once again create complex thoughts.
“Y-Yes. I am Ravel Livoria D’Arby, ma’am! I am the one who had summoned you.”
Simple introduction. Perhaps a bit too simple, but it was likely that Ravel was still captive by her own will. She had wanted a knight classed Servant. She had not gotten one of these, but one could say that Ravel wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. At the very least the visage of a beauty like her Servant would at least denote something great, or so she hoped. Even if she wasn’t up to snuff for this “war”, at the very least Ravel would of had the opportunity to participate. Life was a journey.
But there was no doubt that Ravel had drawn the strongest “card”. Even if she hadn’t drawn the class “saber’, her Servant was likely the best Servant. Because they were her own Servant.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can work together to overcome any adversity!” she said with a simple bow. Hopefully her Servant was someone who she could work with at the very least. If that was the case, she could be happy with that fact.
Shinobu Shiratori
@ShadowKingman
The flash had subsided.
“...Eh?”
Not what Shinobu had expected. The girl before her was pretty. Her dress wasn’t from the east at all. In fact, Shinobu thought it reminded her of some sort of magical girl anime that she definitely didn’t watch in her youthful high school years. Her appearance was a bit too goofy from what the young magus had originally expected.
There was also the glaring fact that the person who Shinobu believed she was going to summon was a male. A Prince, no less. Someone who would be able to take her off her feet and the like. Perhaps not like those western stories, but it wasn’t too farfetched.
But that didn’t matter. Shinobu would have to work with what she had been given. Surely the Servant before her was one of great strength. There was not a shred of weakness within Shinobu that she could easily identify. If she had summoned a Servant, it would have to be the greatest Servant. A top class Servant. Perhaps something that would win a standard grail war with ease. That was the sort of mage that Shinobu was. She was a master of Houjitsu. She was a master of Juijitsu. And she was the “Master’ of this servant.
“I am your Master, Shinobu Shiratori”
Simple and concise.
“I am the one who had summoned you. Though I understand that my beauty might captivate you, I assure you that our business is to fight the singularities, and I shall be the one to lead you.”
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