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Noble Arms - The ASEAN War, Second Thread

Mission Four Introduction Auxiliary Post - Co-written by me and @QJT

Diamond Island Convention and Exhibition Center, The City of Phnom Penh - 11/11/2022 06:20 UTC+8

The Beginning

The sun had barely escaped the horizon, and already the atmosphere felt warm for November. The monsoon season had recently ended, and the lingering moisture in the air made for a groggy experience. Small regions of dampness littered the tan sidewalk pavement. Still, it was dry enough not to ruin the Thai lead delegate’s 200 USD shoes as he departed his limousine. He took a deep breath and regretted it instantly. A whiff of air so close to a silty river couldn’t be good for his health. He unsheathed a handkerchief and coughed into it as his aides joined him in the flat, barely traversed environment. He wriggled his nose and checked his surroundings.

The Americans were there already. Hardly surprising. They came well prepared, given the massive suitcases they hauled. He wondered exactly what those entailed: espionage equipment, personal computers, priceless document proposals, lunch. Perhaps a little of each. Presently, they yucked it up with the… French? Some manner of Europeans, judging by their accent. He sadly couldn’t learn or distinguish between all of the world’s seven thousand languages. He checked his watch. He’d arrived on time; a half-hour early, in fact. The observers were simply too eager to wait.

He counted his entourage, and the suitcases carried therein. Five (including himself) and six; excellent. He bade his cabbie onward, and the vehicle left to park. One of his subordinates, a rather young lady, waved towards the American delegation. He snapped his fingers at her, and she returned her attention to the group. In the distance, a puerile counterpart would return the gesture, to be corralled by his superior. Both leaders understood well: The delegation acted as one unit on behalf of the nation. Frivolities, however friendly, could distract from their duty. “You have our room number, correct?”

“Yessir, here…” she opened her briefcase, nearly spilling the entire contents by the curb. She rescued a small slip of paper with loose scribblings and held it aloft. “...sir.”

“Excellent. Move our belongings and set up our office; I’ll meet you in the auditorium.”
“Sir.” The four underlings on his team jogged off to complete their sacred duty. The Thai delegate blew his nose and stowed away the rag. Their duty was to smooth the process. His duty was to witness the light gray asphalt sea as his allies and adversaries flocked in. They were the first ASEAN nation to show up.

First Relevant Portion (Edited in):

The Philippine Delegation, led by one Emilia Naga, a newcomer to the diplomatic scene whose tall, thin figure looked more like a supermodel than an ambassador, and who opened her ambassadorial car wearing a flashy pink sleeveless dress and gown as a signal of her internal political allegiance (the losing but valiant candidate of the 2022 elections) as she, her aides and guards, watched carefully for any untoward attention. Perceptive enough people would remember that Emilia was a supermodel before becoming an accredited ambassador; Miss Philippines!

Emilia would greet the Thai Ambassador with a courteous, warm nod, before moving to establish her office and make up for lost time. Despite her bravado, she had very low expectations for the meeting; China had attempted to bribe her before and then sent assassins after her when she refused, plus recruited online trolls to start a smear campaign against her. Nevertheless, orders were orders and it’s not as if evacuation routes didn’t exist - She should at least make sure she’s friendly with Task Force Obsidian’s teleportation-capable folk.

More Introductions

The Thai head nodded back. The Republic of the Philippines was always a welcome sight, not exclusively for the warm greetings of such a delegate. Vietnam, whose car presently trailed Emilia’s, had borne the brunt of the engagement, having lost the most casualties. The Vietnamese faces, the battle-hardened stones atypical of such a diplomatic environment, betrayed their dour attitude towards such an endeavor. In contrast, the Philippines through their Noble Arms brigade had earned themselves the flashiest victories; how fitting that a beauty pageant winner would represent the nation. They were a beacon of hope in this unbearably humid environment.

One of the Vietnamese, a rather pudgy individual, had trouble escaping his seat and opening his door. He held up a couple of his comrades in the attempt. The Thai delegate negotiated on behalf of his nation, but ASEAN acted as a pact. Best to display friendship. He strode up to the vehicle, opened the door, and extended a hand. The slack-jawed doughboy glanced up at his colleague, half contemplating whether he ought to accept the gesture. “You look like Ambassador Bunmak,” he spoke through a thick accent. He clearly knew only a handful of English words.

“It’s an honor to meet you in person, General Pham. May I help you out?”

The military man deflated in a great exhale before accepting the offer. “Help me up.”

The Chinese Arrive

A high-pitched honking interrupted Bunmak’s train of thought, and he looked behind the Vietnamese vehicle. The Chinese were here. They arrived in modest vehicles, especially relative to the Thai limousine and… whatever the Filipinos showed up in, but they came in numbers. The entire curb was flooded in black economy cars, blocking the Vietnamese cabbie from escaping. Men in sharp suits poured out. Bunmak had difficulty counting them all, but they appeared a couple, maybe three dozen in total. They coagulated into a well oiled machine, squads of three and four dispersing every which way upon orders from their superior: a bespectacled middle aged gentleman with a square face and a rectangular build. Once Pham was pulled outside the car, the two leaders couldn’t help but gawk at the seemingly organic efficiency, compared to the hoi polloi they witnessed with the cars.

“What do you think their orders are?” the general polled.

“Save face,” the ambassador replied. “Patch relations just enough to continue the game.”

“Bọn khốn Trung Quốc,” the general muttered.

A young firebrand spotted the two gentlemen, making one step towards them and shouting across the pavement: “你是在看三小?” The Thai delegate didn't understand, but he presumed it meant ill intent or offense and so looked away. The Vietnamese were all assembled. The Indonesians and Malaysians were close behind, waiting to park and disembark once the portable traffic jam was finally cleared. He faced the hall entrance. “We’d best make our way. The opening ceremony is a few minutes away.”

In his periphery, he spotted the very same PRC coordinator beside him, making a brief bow. His light gray suit fit him well. “Please forgive my student,” he asked. “He has much to learn about diplomacy. I am Huang Zhang, head diplomat for this endeavor. I look forward to good relations between us, personally if not professionally.” China sent their best, it appeared.

Bunmak felt such a metaphorical aura from his Vietnamese ally that he instinctively placed a firm hand on Pham’s shoulder to prevent him from throwing punches. He must have been mistaken, because Pham bowed in return, with such an angelic voice that Bunmak thought his eyes tricked him: “常在河边走, 哪能不湿鞋.” Pristine pronunciation at that.

“你懂中文嗎!” Huang’s face lit up. “你的中文很好.”

“知己知彼, 百战不殆.”

Clearly out of his league, Bunmak took his leave with a slight nod of acknowledgment and left to join his peers in the auditorium. The two heads of state chattered in the background as the Vietnamese delegation oddly followed him inside. Hopefully, he could attend the conference’s opening statements on time.

Relevant Portion

In the meantime, Emilia Naga had heard about how Huo Ren of the PRC’s ‘Zodiac’ had openly provoked a confrontation with Task Force Obsidian, with rumors that he had brought a not-so-covert member of the Downward Descent inside the building. To be honest, this was a sign that the Chinese did not intend to negotiate in good faith and that the ASEAN delegates should begin putting plans to evacuate into action. But it would be rude to their Cambodian hosts if they broke off negotiations, so she would have to move on her own once in her office.

From a PDA that was issued by a US-linked contractor for the Philippine Government of National Salvation, she sent a text to Myron Makraig of Task Force Obsidian through an encrypted National Intelligence Coordinating Agency (NICA) channel, saying, Tell me everything.

The response was, Not much to tell; Huo Ren came, brought an Avatar of Superbia disguised as a Russian observer to threaten us, and left. Or was it an official Russian observer who is also an Avatar of Superbia? They want some of our members as ‘prisoners’ for purposes best not said in polite company. Either way, we should put all eyes on him and our hosts and wait for solid proof.

A reminder that they didn’t have any. Then, Myron continued, I don’t like the looks of this; we’re going to have to cut our losses if this turns into a disaster. Cambodia has a strong history with Vietnam and Thailand and we don’t need spies in Cambodia’s Parliament to see that China is leveraging that behind the scenes. Double-check that PDA for spyware; by the way - The wider the circle of people we trust, the worse things are.

Good and Bad News

In the meantime, the other delegates were receiving news updates on how the war was going in the rest of ASEAN; the active fronts were stabilizing in Vietnam, while in the Philippines, the Danggal Clan’s surrender had brought many cities held by hostile political families back to the fold.

Myanmar was a mess, but the National Unity Government and the various Ethnic Armed Organizations were gaining ground rapidly; overrunning a chain of townships and bases held by the Military Junta, China’s ally. PRC forces have halted operations in Laos’ north in response to news of a truce, while the naval front was a chaotic mess of raids and counter-raids.

In the ‘Parallel Special Military Operation’ declared by Russia at the same time the ASEAN War started, the Russians were forced out from the city of Kherson in the Ukraine and the western third of the province.

While in Iran, which was closely allied with China and Russia, protesters were being suppressed; the authorities’ efforts were not helped by the fact that many of the dissidents had manifested Noble Arms during their resistance. Nevertheless, the balance of power was still held by the Iranian Government and that was not likely to change.

The various delegates and observers had plenty to react to…

Bunmak’s desk’s condition was far from the propriety he expected, the dignity he instilled onto his aides and apprentices. They were chatting beside each other, checking their phones and speaking in hushed, hurried tones. He approached the aide in charge of setting up his personal office and, despite being shorter than her, nonetheless maintained a looming presence. “Is there anything I should know about?”

She was startled, and jolted into compliance. “Ukraine just took Kherson,” she replied. A cocked eyebrow pressed her to explain herself further. “W-we thought it’d be a good opportunity to check on other world news. Iran, Burma, the Philippines… Vietnam has reached a standstill.”
“Positive, negative? Is it urgent?”

“Just, um, mostly positive news. Nothing immediate,” she stammered.

“Very well. Keep me posted if it requires action at the negotiating table.”

He glanced over to the PRC delegation, who had an equal and opposite reaction to world happenings. Youth and their phones, eh? Huang emerged through them to check his desk layout at the last minute. He cracked open a plastic bottle of water and took a brief sip. He noticed Bunmak almost immediately. He held his bottle aloft as he would a wine glass. Whether it bade good luck or a professional courtesy, Bunmak nodded in return. The gavel sounded.

Relevant Portion

The roads outside the facility were now (finally) clear of cars; they’d parked in local lots or retreated to their hotels and embassies of origin. No longer at risk of inconveniencing the dignitaries, the Cambodian military could finally set up a perimeter worthy of respect. The event had a spattering of security personnel around the site, but respectable events required something more. Several eight-wheeled BTR-60s pulled up along the curbside, forming a defensive line around the facility. Infantry casually helped each other out of the vehicle; the force was a couple hundred in total. Late security reinforcement was better than none at all.

The Meeting Begins

His aides joined the river of excess personnel swept towards the recesses of the auditorium. The ambassador, often uncomfortable with such necessities of hierarchy, unceremoniously took his seat. The moderator stood up and leaned into his microphone. Bunmak couldn’t quite remember a Turkish accent from his storied career, but Soner Tilki reminded him: “I open this session at 8:34 AM. Mark the time.” He exhaled in preparation for a long day. “Greetings, one and all. There is a lot of tension in the room today, but I hope we can treat each other as professionals.”

It was decided that a representative of a neutral country like the Republic of Turkey would sate both sides’ demand for impartiality. The Turks very apparently respected the gravity of the situation. From the corner of his eye, Bunmak spotted Pham collecting a handful of index cards. Bunmak checked his own desk; the just-in-case speech he’d written lay squarely in the middle, just as he requested. He delicately picked it up as Soner raised his gavel again. “At this time, the dais will open the floor for opening remarks and proposals.” The comforting sound of wood striking wood soothed the auditorium.

It’s generally disrespectful to raise attention before attention is requested, and disrespect is rewarded in kind. Even so, there were benefits to being the first to speak. As Bunmak gripped his seat to stand up, before General Pham even knew what happened, Huang had already shot up. It was theoretically possible to stand up that fast without jumping the gavel, and no one would shame him for being a few milliseconds early. Nonetheless, it was clear Huang had his marching orders and the adroitness to carry them out. Everyone else was just slow. “The dais recognizes the People’s Republic of China,” Tilki announced.

“Yes, sir.” Huang bowed slightly in acknowledgment, then raised a thin manila folder. “The People’s Republic of China wishes to introduce a proposal for the ethical treatment of prisoners, and we request in its discussion a four-minute speaking interval for member nations.” Tilki outstretched his hand to receive it. Huang strutted up to the podium with bridled energy and placed it with a feather’s grace. “Physical copies are available, and it has been uploaded for the delegates here, should they choose to utilize their laptops or phones.”

Four minutes was an abnormally long speaking time for representatives, and Bunmak certainly didn’t expect the PRC to jump into such a recently touchy subject so wantonly. Were they going to grandstand… against the Philippines? Surely not after the recent news of their own scandal. Tilki pulled out his reading glasses and murmured through the clauses. “Access to reading materials in their own language… Freedom from cruel and unusual punishment… Denounces malicious actors who harshly treat the soldiers of their geopolitical adversaries…” Soner raised his eyebrows. “Demand immediate release of prisoners from nations who cannot comply.” He set down the folder. “Very well. Draft accepted. Do you wish to speak first?”

“China wishes to waive that right,” Huang stated.

Soner Tilki looked out over the audience. “Any further proposals, or comments on the current draft?”

Emilia Naga rose from her seat and responded, “The Philippines wishes to note that any lapses in its treatment of PoWs are because of the number of them and the logistics of keeping them all fed, sheltered, and kept away from baying mobs who want to conduct reprisals for Chinese actions against civilian and soldier alike. What China describes has not been applied to its prisoners taken from ASEAN countries, prisoners not just taken from military combatants but also civilian populations in its campaign of what can be said to be terroristic violence. Thus, the Philippines wishes to submit a counter-proposal establishing an Independent Commission to monitor both sides’ treatment of captives, as well as establishing funding for adequate shelter, food, and other marks of humane treatment for Prisoners of War.”

She paused, then continued, “Does anyone else wish to comment on this matter?”

Tilki looked downwards, and the glow of a computer screen reflected off his glasses. He clicked his mouse a few times before concluding a course of action. “Yes, the dais receives your proposal, and it appears to be in conflict. We will now conduct a - The dais recognizes the People’s Republic of China.” Tilki must have had lightning-fast reflexes, because not even Bunmak noticed Huang call for attention.

Huang stood up promptly. “We thank the Philippines for keeping our soldiers away from their ‘baying mobs.’ We’ve likewise separated them from our own citizens. We hope to grant prisoners of war dignity beyond merciless death by mob. The rights we propose are critical for the well-being of our Chinese citizens, and we have no intention to compromise them. The draft before you is a last, best, and final offer regarding that subject, and we hope that the Philippines will see the reason in respecting prisoners of war thusly. I yield my time.” He sat gently down.
Bunmak raised his hand, slowly. “The dais recognizes the Kingdom of Thailand,” spoke the moderator.

Bunmak used the desk for leverage as he stood up. “I- sorry, the Kingdom of Thailand- believes, whatever our intentions, we can make real progress if we don’t talk past each other. Now, we haven’t had the opportunity to see the offering of the People’s Republic of China. We’re certain that after looking at it, we can compile the rights outlined in both drafts into something all parties can accept. We request a recess until noon to properly give each draft the time it deserves.”

Tilki surveyed the crowd. “Any objections?” One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. “Seeing none, the request is granted. We shall reconvene at noon.” The gavel slammed down.

@Gerlando@Nimbus@QJT@Amidatelion@Digmata@Chiro@Creative Chaos@DammitVictor@Iamme

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War, Second Thread

Mission Four - Knives in Phnom Penh

Diamond Island Convention and Exhibition Center, The City of Phnom Penh - 11/11/2022 06:15 UTC+8

Noel glared back at Huo Ren and said as he raised his left eyebrow, "If you want to screw over your own people and the Russians by revealing that their observer is an energy body used by Public Enemy Number One, be my guest. Stop trying to pick a fight before you end up in one; we won't be the ones drawing our weapons first."

He glanced back at Koichi Hirose, the newly-arrived recruit, as he restrained Cristina from attacking 'Yulian'. Then a nod of acknowledgment at the volunteer before Noel turned back to Huo Ren and said, "The diplomatic meeting your superiors spent a lot of time and effort to call is about to start. The Cambodian military is sending a detachment to keep us all safe, but they will probably want to know about the Russian observer's boasts; you might want to go after him to ensure he does not make more."

Huo Ren was already gazing past him to look at a fuming Nico (Aoi was fuming too, but he thought she was beneath his notice), before smiling, grinning from ear to ear, then saying, "Don't worry; I got what I wanted."

Patting the shoulder of his aide, Shen Tu, Huo gestured both of them to walk towards where Yulian was fast disappearing into a crowd of Russian aides and other diplomatic staff. As they did so, Shen Tu risked looking back at Noel and mouthing, 'Help me'.

Noel gave another nod of acknowledgment, before saying to Henri, "Volunteer Janssens, keep close to us and ready your Noble Arm for use at any time. An Avatar of Superbia is pure energy so your Arm can probably instantly dispel it. Now, we will wait for the Cambodian security detail to meet to coordinate with them and prevent any more untoward incidents from happening."

"So what do we know about this asshat that the PRC wishes we didn't?"

@DammitVictor

Then to Berto, Noel responded, "If you mean Huo Ren, well, he's a very powerful Arms Master who is also a perverted asshole. He lusts for two people in this Task Force; one is Nico Makri - He's the slightly older youth with the grey hair - and the other is me. And he wants to provoke us into getting ourselves captured by him so he can have our way with us."

---

The apparent leader of the protective detachment sent by the military, a squat female with “C. Chea” stamped on her uniform, dismounted her vehicle. Her piercing brown eyes scanned the outside. The streets were fairly barren for such a large event; everyone was inside. Her aides-de-camp approached her and saluted. She reminded them of their orders: “Check the personal protection of each delegation, and inform me of their status. I’ve heard there’s Arms Masters; I want to meet them specifically.” She folded her arms as her underlings trotted away, scanning the outside a second time.

She received a sudden call; there had been a near-incident involving the Filipino and Chinese security details. She walked into the building, armed with only an Anti-Materiel Rifle capable of piercing through an Arms Master's regenerating flesh, a heavy pistol of similar capabilities, and a brace of knives. Accompanying her were a squad of what appeared to be perfectly mundane troops and one Arms Master, her younger brother, Dara, who, though new to his Noble Arm, had a power that was optimized against other Noble Arm users, a power grown from disillusionment with Noble Arms as a concept, ironically.

Walking towards Noel and the others, C. Chea spoke to Task Force Obsidian in a stern tone, "I see you have not given in to the Chinese and Russian provocations. You must be less naive than I thought. Now, where are my manners? I am Lieutenant C. Chea, and I will be in charge of your security. Do not get in trouble; the meeting is about to begin..."

@Gerlando@Nimbus@QJT@Amidatelion@Digmata@Chiro@Creative Chaos@DammitVictor@Iamme

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War, Second Thread

Appearance:

5'5|131lbs

Name: Shinyahito–ōji (Of the House of Yamato).

Age: 16

Nationality: Japanese

Noble Arm Name & Appearance:

Imitation of Ame-no-Nuboko - A ceremonial spear that Crown Prince Shinyahito has named after the ancient jeweled spear used by the creator deities Izanagi and Izanami from Japanese Mythology to create the Japanese Archipelago.

Noble Arm Rank:

C Rank

Power: C (S)
Speed: A
Range: E (S)
Persistence: C
Precision: A
Potential: D

Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Melee, Void, Close-Range.

Noble Arm Abilities:

Mū Shoku Zenchishiki (Void That Consumes Knowledge) - When the Crown Prince touches a single object, person, or location with the speartip (not necessarily stabbing) of his Noble Arm, he sees, and can sort through without going insane, the memories and experiences of the target. Note however that sorting through does not make him able to understand everything he finds out right away. When used on himself, he can also see possible timelines and worlds where he and his sister and certain individuals in this setting do not exist at all; many of those worlds do not have Noble Arms.

That last ability is fairly useless in battle and information gathering but helps boost his self-esteem by giving him glimpses of worlds where things are much worse than they are right now. It is speculated that he can eventually refine this ability to show futures where just one specific person did not exist or died in the very next second, but that is conjecture.

Munakatanashi / Yarubekikata (Unmaking and Remaking) - The Crown Prince can stab himself with his weapon and unmake himself, dissolving his body into nothingness and making all memories, monuments, pictures, and written + computerized records of himself vanish (this can be resisted with the right Noble Arm). However, unmaking is not the same as death, and the Crown Prince can will himself to rematerialize anywhere in the world that he knows from pictures or personally visited; restoring people's memories and all monuments, pictures, and written + computerized records of his existence. This process also heals any injuries and wounds he has.

Misc Abilities:

Etiquette and Ceremony - Crown Prince Shinyahito Yamato lived a regimented life, filled with ceremonies and rituals, which he studied with genuine interest.

Literature Enthusiaist - The Crown Prince is a fan of stories of all kinds, especially Light Novels, even the ones so badly written that he feels the need to mock them in private. He has a love-hate relationship with Isekai fiction while also writing poetry and drafting a novel in his spare time which he plans to publish under a false name.

Martial Arts Training (Polearms) - With great reluctance, the Crown Prince has learned to use his spear as a practical weapon, even though he prefers using it as an analytical tool.

Political Backing - His sister wants the Succession Laws changed so she can inherit should he die; he's not blind to the implications. If she succeeds, it would be at his sufferance and not just because of her efforts, and so he keeps contacts and allies in Japan's Imperial Diet, just in case.

Personality: The Crown Prince would rather not ascend to the throne of Emperor of Japan; he would prefer to just study, read, write, and maybe play video games if he can hide it from the public. However, he does not want the throne to pass to another branch of the Family or his younger sister, Fuyuko Yamato, whom he views as 'too militaristic', to get the throne and perhaps push an agenda that would further shred Japan's slightly pacifist constitution, or bring back old-style imperialists who look back on Japan's days as a colonial power with nostalgia. At the same time, he doesn't hate his sister; he knows her views might be different than she seems to indicate. So who knows, maybe he'll give her the chance she needs...

*Likes: Books. Anime and Manga. Videogames. Gunpla.

*Dislikes: Bitter things, outdated views, corruption, boredom.

Fears: Over-regimentation, Death, Societal Collapse.

Bio: Born one day after his cousin Prince Hishahito of Akishino (an IRL figure) to Naruhito of Japan, the birth of Shinyahito raised shockwaves throughout the Imperial Family. Raised with immense expectations, Shinyahito faced the barely-hidden resentment of his sister, born one year after him, and his nation's continued population decline and political malaise.

As he grew up, he realized that he did not want to be Emperor, but had to hide it, even from himself. His Noble Arm grew not when he was subjected to trauma or a 'trigger event', but when he realized that as much as he just wanted to hide from the world and become a hikkikomori (yes, embarrassing), not only was that not on the table, but he cared too much to allow other people to take the Throne and pursue outlandish agendas that involved bringing back Japan's darker past.

When he unlocked the Imitation of Ame-no-Nuboko, he was pushed into competition with his younger sister, whose ambitions and militaristic attitude were obvious for all to see, but managed to keep things civil, maybe even cordial, between them. When China began its war of aggression against ASEAN after the Philippine Government of National Salvation displaced the previous leadership, Shinyahito journeyed to the Philippines as well, avoiding his father's displeasure by stabbing himself with his spear, unmaking himself, then remaking himself in the regions surrounding Baguio City, hoping to find refuge in the Japanese emigré community near Kennon Road.

The Danggal Clan found him, and as they were still pretending to be loyal to the PGNS, they gave him a hospitable welcome, using up stockpiled food and luxury goods to throw a banquet for him, not noticing that he found that wasteful in wartime. Gradually, he realized that they were planning to betray the PGNS if bribed enough, and also hand him over to China if the price was right. So he unmade himself yet again and remade himself in the Philippine Military Academy building, which was under siege by traitorous forces led by the Danggal Clan.

A metaphorical baptism of fire followed, and now he is fighting in a campaign he does not want, but knows he must see through...

Update: With the Danggal Clan surrendering and returning to the Philippine Government of National Salvation's fold, Crown Prince Shinyahito has chosen to stay in the Philippines to keep track of his sister, who is still wandering ASEAN territory fighting People's Liberation Army forces.

*Current Goal: Survive. Find his path in life.

Military or Civilian Rank: Kōtaishi (Crown Prince, Japanese word)

*Optional

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War, Second Thread

For the Next Intermission

Crown Prince of Retcons

Appearance:

5'5|131lbs

Name: Shinyahito–ōji (Of the House of Yamato).

Age: 16

Nationality: Japanese

Noble Arm Name & Appearance:

Imitation of Ame-no-Nuboko - A ceremonial spear that Crown Prince Shinyahito has named after the ancient jeweled spear used by the creator deities Izanagi and Izanami from Japanese Mythology to create the Japanese Archipelago.

Noble Arm Rank:

C Rank

Power: C (S)
Speed: A
Range: E (S)
Persistence: C
Precision: A
Potential: D

Noble Arm Type, Element, and Range: Melee, Void, Close-Range.

Noble Arm Abilities:

Mū Shoku Zenchishiki (Void That Consumes Knowledge) - When the Crown Prince touches a single object, person, or location with the speartip (not necessarily stabbing) of his Noble Arm, he sees, and can sort through without going insane, the memories and experiences of the target. Note however that sorting through does not make him able to understand everything he finds out right away. When used on himself, he can also see possible timelines and worlds where he and his sister and certain individuals in this setting do not exist at all; many of those worlds do not have Noble Arms.

That last ability is fairly useless in battle and information gathering but helps boost his self-esteem by giving him glimpses of worlds where things are much worse than they are right now. It is speculated that he can eventually refine this ability to show futures where just one specific person did not exist or died in the very next second, but that is conjecture.

Munakatanashi / Yarubekikata (Unmaking and Remaking) - The Crown Prince can stab himself with his weapon and unmake himself, dissolving his body into nothingness and making all memories, monuments, pictures, and written + computerized records of himself vanish (this can be resisted with the right Noble Arm). However, unmaking is not the same as death, and the Crown Prince can will himself to rematerialize anywhere in the world that he knows from pictures or personally visited; restoring people's memories and all monuments, pictures, and written + computerized records of his existence. This process also heals any injuries and wounds he has.

Misc Abilities:

Etiquette and Ceremony - Crown Prince Shinyahito Yamato lived a regimented life, filled with ceremonies and rituals, which he studied with genuine interest.

Literature Enthusiaist - The Crown Prince is a fan of stories of all kinds, especially Light Novels, even the ones so badly-written that he feels the need to mock them in private. Has a love-hate relationship with Isekai fiction while also writing poetry and drafting his own novel, which he plans to publish under a false name.

Martial Arts Training (Polearms) - With great reluctance, the Crown Prince has learned to use his spear as a practical weapon, even though he prefers using it as an analytical tool.

Political Backing - His sister wants the Succession Laws changed so she can inherit should he die; he's not blind to the implications. If she succeeds, it would be at his sufferance and not just because of her efforts, and so he keeps contacts and allies in Japan's Imperial Diet, just in case.

Personality: The Crown Prince would rather not ascend to the throne of Emperor of Japan; he would prefer to just study, read, and write, and maybe play video games if he can hide it from the public. However, he does not want the throne to pass to another branch of the Family or his younger sister, Fuyuko Yamato, whom he views as 'too militaristic', to get the throne and perhaps push an agenda that would further shred Japan's slightly pacifist constitution, or bring back old-style imperialists who look back on Japan's days as a colonial power with nostalgia. At the same time, he doesn't hate his sister; he knows her views might be different than she seems to indicate. So who knows, maybe he'll give her the chance she needs...

*Likes: Books. Anime and Manga. Videogames. Gunpla.

*Dislikes: Bitter things, outdated views, corruption, boredom.

Fears: Over-regimentation, Death, Societal Collapse.

Bio: Born one day after his cousin Prince Hishahito of Akishino (an IRL figure) to Naruhito of Japan, the birth of Shinyahito raised shockwaves throughout the Imperial Family. Raised with immense expectations, Shinyahito faced the barely-hidden resentment of his sister, born one year after him, and his nation's continued population decline and political malaise.

As he grew up, he realized that he did not want to be Emperor, but had to hide it, even from himself. His Noble Arm grew not when he was subjected to trauma or a 'trigger event', but when he realized that as much as he just wanted to hide from the world and become a hikkikomori (yes, embarrassing), not only was that not on the table, but he cared too much to allow other people to take the Throne and pursue outlandish agendas that involved bringing back Japan's darker past.

When he unlocked the Imitation of Ame-no-Nuboko, he was pushed into competition with his younger sister, whose ambitions and militaristic attitude were obvious for all to see, but managed to keep things civil, maybe even cordial, between them. When China began its war of aggression against ASEAN after the Philippine Government of National Salvation displaced the previous leadership, Shinyahito journeyed to the Philippines as well, avoiding his father's displeasure by stabbing himself with his spear, unmaking himself, then remaking himself in the regions surrounding Baguio City, hoping to find refuge in the Japanese emigré community near Kennon Road.

The Danggal Clan found him, and as they were still pretending to be loyal to the PGNS, they gave him a hospitable welcome, using up stockpiled food and luxury goods to throw a banquet for him, not noticing that he found that wasteful in wartime. Gradually, he realized that they were planning to betray the PGNS if bribed enough, and also hand him over to China if the price was right. So he unmade himself yet again and remade himself in the Philippine Military Academy building, which was under siege by traitorous forces led by the Danggal Clan.

A metaphorical baptism of fire followed, and now he is fighting in a campaign he does not want, but knows he must see through...

Update: With the Danggal Clan surrendering and returning to the Philippine Government of National Salvation's fold, Crown Prince Shinyahito has chosen to stay in the Philippines to keep track of his sister, who is still wandering ASEAN territory fighting People's Liberation Army forces.

*Current Goal: Survive. Find his path in life.

Military or Civilian Rank: Kōtaishi (Crown Prince, Japanese word)

*Optional

Fate/Dark Heritage

Lorenzo Calungsod Emiya

Lorenzo's first thought was, I wanted a handsome young man, heretical as it may be.

His second and third thoughts were, A beautiful amazon is also to my liking. Society would probably accept that better, too.

Then, the surprise finally hit, Gajah Mada was a woman?!

Schooling himself to courtesy, and purging himself of impure thoughts unworthy of a member of the Holy Church, he spoke, "My name is Lorenzo. Lorenzo Calungsod Emiya. My mother is of the blood of Nusantara, and my father is a foreigner. It is my honor to meet such a beautiful lady, and fight alongside her in this Holy Grail War."

His superior, well, his technical superior had announced the start of the War from a different church building, and it was time for Lorenzo to start the fight from his makeshift HQ... Or at least, that was the plan. To be honest, as the chapel he was borrowing was well-protected with layers of Bounded Fields, he had plenty of time and the luxury of space to discuss a plan of action with one of the greatest tacticians of her age.

Looking at her, Lorenzo spoke, "Now, to business; just so you know, I am not opposed to you wishing to fulfill your unfulfilled oath - My country stands to profit as a co-equal component of a larger federation of Southeast Asian States led by your liege's successors. However, I would like to ask that on our journey to fulfill it, we save as many people from the depredations of the other Masters and Servants as possible - I do not like collateral damage. As for the tactical situation... I'll be blunt; trained in Magecraft as I am, I have never been good at Familiars and other ways of gathering intelligence through Supernatural means. My kit is also sub-optimal and bare-bones for fighting against other Masters, let alone a weak Servant."

His smile turned wry as he continued, "But what I am good at is technology, much-neglected by Magi. If the Grail has given you knowledge of what Computers are; well, I'm good at them - Follow me to this Church's outbuildings; contrary to what people think, the Priest does not live in the Church itself; at least not most of the time."

He then walked out of the cellar, gesturing for Gajah Mada to follow him to a small studio at the edge of the Church grounds, a small studio that contained several computers kept cool by specialized Bounded Fields. These computers had a live feed from Kyoto's CCTV network, acquired by using Mental Interference Magecraft on certain members of the Police Force. Lorenzo then explained, "We wait for the rowdier Masters and Servants to begin seeking each other out for a fight, and interfere when it looks like civilians are going to be harmed. We also check for misinformation spread by the Mages' Association or the Holy Church to maintain the masquerade. Of course, we also try and find out as much data on the Servants and Masters as we can. Any more questions?"

Is turtling dishonorable? Yes, yes it is. But right now, I do not take our chances lightly - We are likely to die if we just dive in.

@Randomguy