Lonewolf685 — Roleplayer Guild

@Lewascan2
My drive for Roma is in two parts. One is that I love being the antagonist. Not so much that I enjoy evil, I really don’t like doing chaotic evil protagonists, but I do immensely enjoy being someone else’s opposition. I’m the guy who never DMs because he’d have zombies and skeletons make grapple checks and use help actions to guarantee easy hits and Crits on prone players. 

And I made Roma 6 years ago without finding a public RP setting to use her in. Plenty of PMs and lore outside this setting but this is her long awaited proper shakedown. Which is refreshing to take her back to factory default, new power set, but all the drives and twisted compassion that makes her equal parts yandere and waifu. Like an electric eel wrapped around your neck and purring.

And if the need arises I have plenty of others who’d easily fit in just as well. 

Suzuya Kuzunoha

The construction site was playing host to a battle as chaotic and wild as had not been seen since Saxons fought the Danes centuries ago, a slice of the middle ages with a sprinkle of magic and gunpowder for variety. Suzuya's tome sang with renewed purpose and she burned brighter for it, her doubt and terror locked away behind a cast iron will girding her heart from the weaknesses of her character. 

The comradery of a peer at her back was something innocuous enough she could savor undilluted, though even in the heat of battle she felt it warble from an outpouring of support to something more restrained. Did Lilac Shimmer's page also influence her mind as Suzuya's? Hard to say and impossible to care when the increasingly familiar feel of her naginata parting shadowy limbs from bodies, the faint drag upon the shaft which her muscles expertly guided her through, was intoxicating. 

So a frown came to march her steely visage as the Pageless turned from an uncountable throng to a trickle, then vanishing till there was nothing at all before her and even Lilac had departed her side. Flicking her gaze back and forth, she found the giant Pageless just as the sun itself streaked frmo over the rooftops and struck the increasingly dismembered horror. 

Both Magical Girl and Grimoire felt frustrated at not thinking to do the same, but it was Suzuya's fault to losing herself to instinct, and it was that same dependence that would keep her from reaching similar peaks of power. Still, in her transformed state she had enough pride not to race off and steal a head she couldn't properly claim, so instead she cast her weapon back into her tails and let the limbs stretch outwards like the unfolding petals of a flower. The once rampant flames were sucked towards them, peeled from surfaces without even a burn to show they were there. The very magic of their being repairing the spot once burned before pulling back to Suzuya herself as she cleaned up the mess with eyes set now upon the birth of a new story.
Roma Bhakti

Seven minutes remained, a splash of information across the face of an old timer used to tell a circle of blessed people dining at the grandest table in all of England. Somewhere in their hearts, did they realize just how fortunate they were? That no Queen or King could ever dream to sup as they had done not once, but many, many nights before? With an unblinking gaze a small, petite girl of foreign descent scanned from left to right, finding the mixing of social class and intention a perplexing spectacle. 

Garbed in plain clothes both thread bare and ragged she passed with little notice or scorn, holding up a goblet to her lips and tasting the juices of a fresh peach run cool across her tongue. Another sip and bitter tea chased the succor of fruit from her palette. The heavy tang of blood swept forth with the next sip, only for all to be rendered a fond memory with a splash of sea water. A marvelous challice bringing forth the tastes of ones desires with neither consequence nor concern.

She knew the peculiarity of liquid mercury just as intimately as fiery kiss of sake fit for a conquering daiymo. All no more then a quirk of her wrist a pull from the grail to her lips away. It left her radiating a contentedness she had not thought to find in so mundane an action, and she set down what had tasted to her as honey so thicc as to drown the lungs while her hands crossed demurely upon the Round Table's edge. 

A prolific table, one that carried with it hope and the promise of equity that somehow carried itself as though free of the treachery that marred the rest of the legend. A promise that, though ultimately broken, still carried that ring of truth that could draw one in despite incredulity. 

Yet it only took a glance and she knew that hope could not banish the darkness in men's hearts. How many nights need it be before word of this gathering reaches unwelcome ears? How long till wolves even Excalibur should not slay circle outside the glow of candle light to pick off the vulnerable, well fed sheep as they wander home in the dark? What would Camelot do when her blatant display of magic draws the eyes of authorities both mundane and Grand in nature?

These questions percolated in Roma Bhakti's head as the timer wound down, and the scraping of chairs preceeded people drawing to their feet lest they fall upon their bottoms. Even one as she could feel a sense of loss as the candle's were snuffed and the feast evaporated, only the warmth in her belly telling her she had eaten a meal at all. There was a good deal of well wishing and comradery still remaining, people embracing and conversing before departing, but she was like many other outliers slipping away into the night. 

She stepped into the night finding a challenge before her, one that need not be broken down and rebuilt in her image, but who she felt dutybound to save from a near inevitable collapse of her own making. A sense of gratitude for the meal manifested upon Camelot's person, as all the way atop Big Ben itself there was the sudden drop of a coin ringing in the now empty scabbard. It mattered not to Roma that she wanted payment, merely that she expressed her thanks for a meal well enjoyed. 

The first of many, if she had her way.

Lonewolf685 Member

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