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2 mos ago
Current best I got's a microwave burrito and a handle of popov, straight
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5 mos ago
when you smash ron after someone else calls riichi for one han just to make sure they get nothing
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10 mos ago
To this day, I regret not being able to try pre-nerf four loko
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11 mos ago
FREEDOM NEVER SLEEPS
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1 yr ago
are you seriously asking for a savage carry on RPG
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Iraleth Kyrios


Frankly, Iraleth hadn't expected her Ethos to simply be able to outright roll over a professor qualified to work here. But it was still galling to hear him say the Inheritor was in its infancy, no matter how true it was. No small part of her wanted to simply grit her teeth and see just how far she had to go in a contest of strength, but both reason and duty called. There was no point in pushing her limits here when there was something with actual stakes later tonight.

With that in mind, she resigned herself to following Otis's plan again, given that the same tactic had come across her mind moments before he'd ordered it. She was stuck in here with him. Fine.

A flick of her wings rebuffed the thorns firing at her. Darkness fell, and the paladin took advantage of the split-second of surprise it offered her to deactivate her Ethos. The Inheritor's armor faded, and Professor Alto would only be grasping thin air for but a moment before he would grapple Iraleth again. She didn't give him the opportunity. The half-elf shoved herself away from Alto before he could reengage, drawing her mundane blade as she gained a small amount of distance, her back to the literal wall of thorns.

Even with the outright invincibility granted by his Personal Barrier, Alto still had to actually make contact to score a blow. If she could bait him into a contest of swords, Iraleth could likely stand a chance even within his overcharge. Plus, Ciara's constant assault distracting him didn't hurt, either.

"You're barely older than I am, and your breadth of knowledge is wider." She said flatly, taking up a defensive stance. "I've my doubts your depth of skill with a blade overtakes mine. Or even Ciara's, for that matter. Come on then, Professor." Iraleth goaded. Otis wanted her to play for time? She'd give the others that.
Probably won't be able to post for another two or three days
In SPIRITUM 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Kalina Kovalic


Well, that solved that. Kalina wordlessly offered Silje a high five after she'd managed to scare the pants off the civvies enough for the girl behind the counter to get the point. That was what one did in these situations, right? Once the high five was taken, because there wasn't a chance in hell Silje wasn't going to go for it, Kalina followed Gerard back out, opening the beer Justice had thrown at her earlier and taking a few swigs.

"Drinking, I suppose. Not exactly a reason to fight unless they give us one, and what the others did worked." Kali said in response to Gerard's inquiry before something did come to her mind.

"That said, the girl at the counter hit a silent alarm. Might have a problem in five."

Just then, she caught movement in the corner of her eye. Judging by the design, two figures were leaving what was supposed to be a local law enforcement station. Huh. And she'd just mentioned the silent alarm, too. Given the time between pressing it and their response in even leaving the station...the locals were rather slow, weren't they?

"Make that one. Two potential bogeys, ten o' clock." Kalina said, reaching into the cooler as she did so and tossing Gerard the beer he requested. With that stated, she quickly guzzled down the rest of her own brew, leaving it on top of a crate. No sense in leaving it undrank should the marshals prove hostile.

"How're we playing this?" She glanced around at those assembled, shrugging. "Didn't technically do anything, did we?"
Renar Hagen


Renar resisted the urge to sigh. It had been worth a shot, though he would have liked some kind of insight in how to deal with the First and Youngest. Ah, well. Really, what had he been expecting? Some magical solution that would fix all of this?

A beat passed. They were in a magical solution fixing their lack of adequate training for the challenges ahead. So perhaps it wasn't completely unreasonable to think of the matter as such. But that didn't mean he should have expected anything.

"I'll take your word for it, then." He said in response to Edwin before nodding to Parvan. "And none taken. You're correct, after all. Though I was largely trying to use her as a measuring stick against which how far I had left to go. Quite a ways, as it turns out."

They continued on to wherever the hell Edwin was leading them.

"While we're walking, care to brief me on what we're doing once we arrive? Or will surprise be more effective?" For all his disdain of Edwin on a personal level, it couldn't be said that Renar wasn't capable of being entirely professional when there was something to be gained.

@Raineh Daze
Rider and Archer


Oh, good. This Servant opposite him knew something of playing the game, at least. A little jumpy, though. Poor form. Any hint of weakness like that would have gotten him eaten alive in Rider’s youth. Nonetheless, he leaned back, mirroring the Servant he was sitting with before taking a sip of coffee. Delicious.

”Well, they haven’t commanded me not to be here.” Rider gave a lackadaisical wave, laughing the question off. ”A bit of a gray area, really. But our type’s good at navigating those, aren’t we? Anyone inflexible isn’t going to last long, short of being ludicrously strong.”

Rider started drumming his fingers along the table. One beat. Two. The drumming continued. His smarmy grin didn’t leave his face. One would think he was almost deliberately trying to be annoying.

”Considering you haven’t started swinging, shooting, or casting yet, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you aren’t quite inflexible. A good sign, really.” He chortled, continuing to enjoy his drink. ”Tell me, what do you think of this brave new world we find ourselves in? I, for one, think it a marvel. A vast improvement from the era I grew up in.”

“Come, now. It’s as you said, we’re just having a drink.” Archer’s own smug expression refused to budge, and he simply shrugged as his guest seemingly declined his offer of a cigarette, slipping the carton back into his pocket. “We may have been called here to fight for our Masters, but that doesn’t behoove us to conduct ourselves like barbarians on their account.”

Well, wasn’t this a curious fellow, Archer thought to himself, as his golden eyes appraised the man across from him. He was certainly crass, slithering up to him and daring him to retaliate; but while it was tempting to write him off as a fool, that clearly wasn’t the whole picture. He’d gone from giving shameless non-answer into probing him with questions of his own, attempting to place the burden of the conversation on him.

The incessant, rhythmless drumming on the table was just the capper. If the man intended violence, he’d long since relinquished the advantage there. No, he was trying to wear down his patience, see what he could find out.

“I have my misgivings, I will admit, but I’d be little but a fool if I let them guide my thoughts. I see complacency, but also possibilities beyond anything my contemporaries could have begun to envision.” Well, it wasn’t like he stood to lose anything by humouring his guest a little; if he thought he could get under Archer’s skin that easily, perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult to bait him along in turn. “Every age is mired in the folly of man, but perhaps this one shall let us be rid of the vultures picking at the corpse of bygone glories.”

A relatively neutral non-answer. Well, it was only fair, considering Rider had just given one himself. Still, there were little bits and pieces here to peck out. Just like those vultures his counterpart just mentioned. Heh. Ah, how’d he’d missed this. Matching wits was far more enjoyable when the opposition was an equal as opposed to a dullard.

”One could say that those vultures are the ones with the greatest eye for the possibilities you’ve mentioned. I certainly won’t fault someone for taking opportunities where they arise. Regardless, now that we know where the other stands, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to offer your role?”

A brief chortle. His coffee cup was already running half-empty.

”I’ll even start. I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said Assassin?”

“I’d only consider you slightly less credible than if you claimed you were Caster,” Archer replied, rolling his cigarette from one side of his mouth to another as he quirked an eyebrow at the turn in the conversation. “For whatever that’s worth.”

The question of the man’s identity had, of course, been on his mind. Appearances were deceiving, but presence wasn’t, and his guest’s dubious aura didn’t exactly command fear and awe as a Saber or Lancer should. His own identity precluded the remaining option out of the Knights, so that left the four Cavalry classes to eliminate. In truth, he couldn’t rule Caster out just yet; he may have failed to recognize the meaning of his words, just who these vultures were, but who knew how magi from this neck of the woods conducted themselves? At any rate, it was certainly more of a possibility than either Berserker or Assassin, as he seemed to claim. That yet left one option, but…

“Besides, let’s not say anything we’re likely to regret.” As tempting as it was to call him on his bluff, he couldn’t see it being worth the particular risk. There was surely more that he could glean from the man before he moved on, but that particular item of information was a dangerous one to air out in these unproven grounds. “The war is yet young, and we don’t know what cards the others hold. I admire your candor, but let’s not sacrifice sense at the altar of hospitality. I may not be inflexible, as you say, but lord only knows what brutes may be lying in wait.”

”I respect your abundance of caution, but we both know secrecy about Class will go out the window the moment the knives come out.” Rider’s smarmy grin widened ever so slightly. ”After all, our titles already exist to protect our names.”

And speaking of, it wasn’t as if Rider’s mind wasn’t working in the exact same direction, either. The man in front of him certainly didn’t seem to be Saber, Lancer, or Berserker, just from general appearance, presence, and attitude alone. Rider was already Rider. So that largely left Archer, Caster, or Assassin. Part of the reason he’d even mentioned Assassin in the first place was to gauge the other Servant’s response. He’d brushed it off with barely any reaction, so that Class was likely out. Now, was the mention of Caster a smokescreen? It really came down to that or Archer at this point, though he supposed that a standard Caster would have little reason to leave their little workshop once it was set up. Archer was the most likely candidate, but only if he took what he saw currently at face value.

”But, I’ll acknowledge your wishes for now. A man was simply trying to make idle small talk, after all. Some of my greatest allies started as my enemies, really. I’m told I have a talent for such things.” Just a little breadcrumb. As amusing as it would be to reveal his true name, it was too much of a strategic risk, even with his Noble Phantasm in play. Though if Rider felt it invoked at any time tonight, then the other Servant was far sharper than he’d give him credit for.

“Of course, but much can happen in the course of one night.” Archer couldn’t help but stifle a laugh of his own. His guest seemed almost disappointed that he’d declined the exchange of identities; again, there seemed to be but a fine line separating recklessness from brilliance. As insignificant as it would be once the fighting began, at this stage in the war the simple knowledge of which class each Servant belonged to was an unspeakable advantage. A shrewd Master and Servant could wipe another team off the board before matters even truly began if they had reliable information on how an unprepared unit was likely to respond to an attack.

The other Servant clearly had something to gain by trying to share his identity, but whether that was based on a belief that Archer would be honour-bound to oblige him in turn or something yet more sinister remained to be seen.

“No doubt this won’t be the last time we meet. Perhaps then, we can talk more openly about matters.” Perhaps he was trying to goad him, but the sense of deliberation behind his guest’s words made Archer feel there was some credence to them. The man was an odd mix of foolishness and sharpness, ingratiating and yet infuriating; certainly the kind of person who thrived in uncertain times. If nothing else, he was sure he could confuse any other Servant enough to make it out of an encounter with his head still attached.

“But it’d be a waste of an occasion to leave things there, I agree.” And if that was the case, Archer had some questions of his own. “And if you’re game for a little small talk, I must admit I’m curious. You’ve spoken of your admiration for this modern world, all the challenges overcome along the way. But that’s only a fraction of the picture, isn’t it?”

He paused, exhaling a plume of smoke as he took his cigarette from his mouth; and, letting it hang by the side of his chair for the moment, he looked up from the table to catch the attention of the waitress. Catching her eye and gesturing for her to bring the most recent order over for the two of them, he turned his attention back to his guest.

“What do you make of this alleged Grail War?” He asked the other Servant, a smile quite unlike the one from before plastered across his face.

”What, this curious little replacement for something supposed to be long gone?” Rider inclined his head briefly. He’d had quite a bit of time to think about the matter once he’d been summoned and the knowledge the Grail granted him settled in his head. His eyes glinted with all the malicious glee of someone who enjoyed speaking uncomfortable truths. ”Isn’t it obvious? We’re all being used. Perhaps the original system may have been a legitimate matter caused by magi too foolish to simply be rational and cooperate, but to so desperately recreate this entire contest after the last time it failed? No, someone is pulling strings behind the scenes.”

After all, it wasn’t as if Rider actually wanted to play along with this phenomenal waste of his newfound existence. The more Servants and even Masters he could convince of the utter foolishness going on, the sooner he could cut his strings and live his second life as he wished to.

Another silence hung in the air between the two men for a moment, as Rider finished speaking, and as Archer digested his words. The waitress came over with the two coffees Archer had ordered, slamming them down on the table in a hurry before scuttling away as fast as she could to leave the two dubious-seeming men to their business

“Well put.” Archer finally nodded after a few moments, his own eyes glinting as his mind raced behind them. Yes indeed, this encounter would have proved informative even if the other Servant had flounced at his refusal to play along with his apparent willingness to disclose his identity; but if he was understanding his guest correctly, this is where it could provide personally fruitful.

“Now, I won’t insult your intelligence by claiming I have no interest in the Grail. We could play this game through to the first light of morning, and nothing either of us could say would change the fact that none of us would be here if there wasn’t something we were willing to run roughshod over each-other to grasp,” he said, the luridness of his words concealing the deliberation beneath.

“But all the same, it’s as you say. This war is but an amateur production of a third rate farce. I spoke of the folly of man, and it certainly runs deep; but it may as well be a shallow pond compared to the depths of those picking at the corpses of the Gods.” He had to be careful what he relented to the other Servant. Showing too much of his hand could be disastrous, if he were so inclined as to engage either of their Masters in this same fashion. “I have no qualms with my Master, nor, as far as I can gather, any quarrel with yours. The bindings of duty are difficult to escape, especially when one can see no alternative. But if one could rely on magi to be rational, I scarcely think we’d be here to begin with. I wouldn’t doubt at least one of our number is likely to prove troublesome.”

What a curious choice of wording. Was this Servant implying he’d cut his bonds and run if given half the chance? Both a blessing and a curse, really. Rider didn’t need this man’s utter loyalty like he would have in life, given that this was a temporary alliance at best. But that cut both ways. Fleeting faith made for an uncertain ally.

Still, at least he had some idea of where they stood now. That was, so long as this man wasn’t playing him for a fool. Rider practically guzzled his refill of coffee down before rising to his feet, placing a thousand yen note on the table.

”I suppose that’s all I need to know for the moment, then. I thank you for the interesting conversation, friend. Best hope we’re not forced to cross blades during the conflict proper, no?”

“I shouldn’t think you have much to fear, there.” Archer replied, lazily raising a hand to bid the other Servant farewell. “Without betraying my Master’s confidence, or my own words, we’re in no hurry to spill blood for a counterfeit cup. We’ll have the chance to talk again, I’m sure.”

Well, maybe it had been too much to hope he’d be able to broach that topic at length on the first night, but it wasn’t exactly a disappointing outcome for that. Regardless of how likely the amity was to endure, or how it would inevitably end, he’d identified someone who’d make a ready ally; whether or not the man had absorbed the meaning of his words, he supposed it was only a matter of time until he saw for himself just what bloody-minded horrors were likely awaiting them.

“If I may, however, allow me to advise you of one thing before you depart.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and, crushing it in his gloved hand, likewise downed his own coffee. Now the other Servant was leaving, he didn’t have much in the way of a reason to hang around, either. It had been a fruitful enough diversion, but the time had come to ensure Kilian’s advance. Which, of course, led into: “I wasn’t being facetious when I spoke before. I can’t say I’m aware of any others of our kind yet, but I have… previous knowledge, shall we say, of at least one party involved in this war, who I can only imagine would be more than willing to paint these streets with blood to see some demented dream realized.”

Perhaps he was saying too much. There was also the very real possibility that this man was the Servant of that very party. All the same, however, Archer felt disclosing this information would serve him in the long run.

“Be wary of a woman with white hair and red eyes. Humanity only runs skin deep, and whatever was mean enough to heed her call surely won’t be as reasonable as you or I.” If this Servant was a prospective ally, it wouldn’t do to have him fall into the clutches of the Einzberns; and if he was the one who heeded their call, perhaps the message would unsettle them enough to draw them out into the open.

How satisfying it would be, to personally crush the hopes of those miserable, bloodthirsty dolls for good.
Renar Hagen


"By all means." Renar said, relaxing his stance and resting his poleaxe against the shoulder, gesturing onward. "Lead the way." It wasn't as if he wasn't going to turn down more targeted advice and training regarding the biggest impediment towards the Iron Rose leaving this place. And knowing how to slay a dragon certainly wouldn't hurt in the long run. They couldn't rely on Tyaethe to do so forever. And speaking of her...

"Speaking of dragons," Renar grunted as they walked on, presumably towards Parvan. "Dame Tyaethe is still at it. Any advice for dealing with her when she gets into one of those ridiculous moods of hers? It was getting in the way of training last time."

@Raineh Daze
Zhao Jinhai


"Appreciate it, pinky!" Jinhai shouted to his back as the arquebus ashigaru popped out from a portal right in front of him, just as he was done with the previous one. He stepped forward, and pushed his fist, popping it straight through the gunman's chest. A glance up revealed the remainder of the ashigaru were pulling back, setting up defensive positions.

"Huh. So they can think. That's a new one, for low-tier undead. Don't think I've ever seen jiangshi that smart." He noted briefly to himself as he decided on his strategy. Sure, he'd blow through all of them with baji eventually, but their spears outranged his fist. Best to switch as the situation demanded.

Zhao Jinhai burst forward in a rush of speed, charging full tilt towards the outstretched spears. Just before he fell in range to be impaled, a minute shift of his hips sent his arms sweeping outwards, his hands flat in piguaquan chops aimed to smash through the ashigarus' spear hafts and render them impotent.

@Raineh Daze @PKMNB0Y
Iraleth Kyrios


Iraleth glowered in response to Ciara. Deliberate obstinance. Shadows take her, if Ciara would just stop being difficult for two seconds and see reason, none of this would be necessary. A thought grew in the back of Iraleth's mind: if it looked like an Umbralist and started acting like one, what was even the difference, really? All it would take during their duel later would be one slip, or her going full tilt from the start and finishing things in one strike. It'd be so easy...no.

She needed ironclad proof first. Running amok making snap judgements was the behavior of an Umbralist. She was better than that. They were all better than that. Her scowl didn't leave her face as she tore her glare away from Ciara, an eyebrow raised as Otis used his telepathy again. Once again, not an unsound strategy. And being far away from Ciara was the simplest thing possible right now. Fortunate for Otis that she was willing enough to take a swing or two at their professor in retribution for what he'd done to Davil.

The paladin manuevered to Professor Alto's direct front, exactly opposite of Ciara attacking from behind. There was no point in an instructor lying to their students, even if their life was at risk. So direct force was out of the question. That left the other method he'd mentioned. Fine, she'd give it a go, then.

The instant Alto was distracted with Ciara's attack, Iraleth made her move. One chant invoked her Ethos. The Inheritor's armor crossed the distance between them with but a flap of its wings of light, and she let its armaments dissipate as she lunged. All she needed to do was keep hold of the professor long enough for her essence to dilute his, as he'd said. Best to keep as strong of a physical hold as she could on him. One of the Inheritor's hands went to wrap around his sword hand's wrist, trying to stop him from using the blade. The other aimed to wrap around his throat, using the leverage to physically lift him off his feet. Provide as many distractions as possible while she shoved concentrated divine essence straight towards his PB.

"I would hope this isn't unsatisfactory then, professor." The helmet's eye slits gave a radiant gleam. Iraleth certainly hadn't wanted to throttle Professor Alto just a little ever since he'd essentially crippled a boy for nothing. Certainly not. The thought was absolutely ludicrous.
Posting sometime today, sorry for the delay
Renar Hagen


"Gah!" Renar cried out as he hit the dirt once more, Edwin's form looming over him. The Bastard of Brias glowered, forcing himself up to a sitting position before he pushed himself back up to his feet with the butt of his poleaxe. He wasn't going to let that bastard keep him down. Merilla had brought Renar's little bag of tricks with him into this dream world, but pocket sand and caltrops weren't quite doing the job against a figure of legend with an enchanted sword.

Well, he'd nearly gotten him with the pocket sand the first time, but nearly wasn't actually. Switching up his style mid-battle was faring better, and he was lasting longer against the traitor the more he trained. But it still wasn't good enough.

After however long they'd been sparring intensively, only stopping for meals and sleep, Renar could certain feel improvement. He'd been getting stronger and faster, to be certain. Just as he'd expected for their training with Lilia back outside of this realm. But the more important facet of his improvement was that he was developing his style far more. When one's measure of progress was how much it worked against Edwin the Traitor, changes that worked tended to stick. Renar still had his bag of tricks to be certain, but now it was augmented by genuine skill in rapidly switching fighting styles in order to adapt to opponents and confuse them. He was getting better at reading opponents in the midst of battle too, analyzing how the fought and determining an appropriate counter as needed.

These weren't skills that would help against a dragon, per se, but he remembered Tyaethe's advice on that matter: prepare a method to deal with foes that won't die in one good blow. His was simple enough in concept: read their movements, read how they fought, and adapt to the situation accordingly. If his current style left him open after a lethal blow, he'd try a different one. Poleaxe, sword, daggers, it didn't matter. He'd work through it.

"Again." He said flatly before Edwin could protest otherwise, taking up a ready stance. "We have a dragon to kill."
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