Avatar of Reflection
  • Last Seen: 18 days ago
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 1119 (0.28 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Reflection 11 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

I'll try and get a post out within the next two days. Just rather tired lately.

Location / Foreign District
@Crusader Lord-@ItMeGritty


Night came... And his sanity was still out of reach. Unable to return to his love until he had his prize. A Saracen's remains to drag before the one he loves. As such, he returned to that Foreign district, wondering just where his tree had gone. Maybe the tree alone might be enough to appease her long enough for him to find the greater trophy? But, despite having the skills of a homing pidgeon, he just couldn't find the tree. Perhaps if Ogier had joined him that night? Whatever the case, he walked around, eyes narrowed as they flashed from building to building, and lamppost to lamppost. And nothing. And then...

"I AM GENERAL HONDA TADAKATSU, THE SAMURAI AMONG SAMURAI, THE WARRIOR WHO SURPASSED DEATH, AND ONE OF TOKUGAWA'S FOUR HEAVENLY KINGS! BE YOU POTENTIAL FRIEND OR FOE I URGE YOU, COME TO MY VOICE! WE SEEK ALLIES IN THIS WAR! HOWEVER, IF YOU WISH TO TEST YOUR BLADE AGAINST MINE I SHALL HAPPILY OBLIGE!"


Certain declarations can make their way all across a district. Especially when done in such a way that they seem designed to draw as much attention as possible. Particularly when one declares themselves a 'Heavenly King.' To one person in particular there was only one Heavenly King. His Uncle. The king Charlemagne. The GREAT HOLY KING CHARLEMAGNE! Only one kind of person would make such a deceleration. Only one kind of individual would declare themselves a Heavenly King beyond that of the Holiest king in all the world! A stupid person S A R A C E N!

Before he even approached this Saracen, his clothing was gone. Evaporating around his body into a display of sparkles. He wouldn't need it. He was too mad to need armor for this. His eyes narrowed into fine points, and he ripped a streetlamp from the ground. He followed the sound of the voice, eyes narrowing like hawks into the distance. The offender wasn't hard to find, as he presented himself like a massive target ontop the edge of a building. Like a spear he held it, and then he released. The lights and fixtures where ripped off by the force of a single throw, as suddenly from just out the corner of Honda Tadakatsu's eye, he'd see a makeshift spear of metal baring down upon him like a cannon shell. Though probably faster than a cannon would, and probably a bit more lethal.

Whether or not the man managed to survive the strike, Berserker was already charging toward the man's location. His feet hammering at the ground, eyes mad with fury, hair wild with frenzy, and carrying in one hand a sword, and in the otherm another street lamp ripped from its post. Which was then thrown with equal fury after the first. Bombarding Honda from a range before they were even close enough to trade sword blows.

"▂▂▃▃▃▃▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅"
Vladimir Moroz

Santa's Favorite Helper


"Why did they request me? I can't stand people." This was the tenth time that hour he had said that. He had probably said it more to be quite frank, but he hadn't been counting after the first five times. His assistant though, standing by his side, was used to such behavior. The man had walled himself off from society. If she hadn't made sure to feed him regularly he might have starved. Each day going into his work, and then scrapping it all when nothing came of it. Only to start again from a different angle. Returning to old ideas too frequently to count. The only change to his routine in over two years had been the message from the Clock Tower. Requesting him, though probably because of his former years, than his more recent madness of the last 10 years. Crowds had begun to make him nervous after all. Too many mouths, they could tamper with his work without realizing it.

"My Moroz, you know what you stand to gain if you win." The white haired girl spoke softly. But it was cold. Like ice. After all, she was not human. And he was not human. Vladimir was said to be descended from demons after all. They were an odd pair, and several students of the clocktower had stopped to watch them. Vladimir stomping back and forth, constantly stopping before the doors, and ready to turn back home. But he had taken a lot of time getting here. Maybe he should participate in this war? It hardly mattered, his life was one of studying anyway. The Greys could wipe the map clean, and he would remain at home attempting the same alchemical formula at different temperatures in different corners of the room.

"And yet I am putting aside research for this. It is a squabble! Clocktower versus mages who summoned servants. I only just managed to get my artifact before I left. How am I sure it's any good?"
"You will manage. Because you are my Moroz. You are more talented than any other mage in that room. I'm sure you will do well. And I can protect you." Her cold voice was rather refreshing, and gave him a bit of strength. There was a sigh, and he pushed open the door.
"You made sure my alchemical supplies are all packed, correct?"

____________________________________________________________________________________
"Perhaps I should have been more specific with my question, right? I was—am—more interested in the reason why I—or rather us—were summoned here instead of being sent straight away to our destination. Is a briefing really necessary when the situation is this clear cut?"

He made his entrance on that line, adjusting his coat and tapping his cane as he did so. "It is simple. It is because it is traditional, rather than pragmatic. The Clocktower has always loved tradition over simple solutions." He didn't have much to say about Orsen. The two had a long... And complicated history between them. If not for the fact he was marching off to war soon, they would have a lot to talk about. But in such a crowded space, he dare not speak.
"I am Vladimir Moroz. That is all each of you must know. Now, let us skip other pleasantries, and summon the servants we have been gathered for." He held up his artifact, a ring. Old, and he dare not speak of its origins. A beautiful ring, and one he had managed to find amongst his vast collections. He had figured it held a power, due to who it was connected to. A man who could not love. Perhaps at a time he figured he could find a way to undo that, and unlock the secret of love. But like all of his research, it resulted in nothing.
Perhaps... This grail war might help. If he could stomach working with others.

I'll post my openner soon.

Sorry for the delay on my character. I'm trying to decide on his sword style.
@vancexentan question, does it matter? It's PVE. It's not like you actually chose Shiki for the enemy team. And if the enemy has a skill he can steal that will make him invincible, just have Arsene fight somebody else during that encounter. You're a GM, you can adjust who goes where in encounters.


The goliath of a Berserker kept his eyes on Saber, but it wasn't a cautious or suspicious look. It was one of excitement. An excitement of knowing someone, and an excitement of knowing with absolute certainty. 'There is something fun in this world still.' Also he wasn't nearly pretty enough to take Angelica's love. A bonus. Just imagine a tiny Roland giving a thumbs up in agreement to that statement.

"I don't know of any Saracen around here, my friend. That man is a brave knight who joined me in battle just now. Let me introduce Sir Noon and his Servant: Saber. They're on a righteous quest to reclaim Sir Noon's scabbard from a coward who stole it."


There was a pause, and Berserker looked at the Saracen. Armor... Check. Sword... Check... Saracen? Apparently not. BUT WHAT IF HE WAS AND HAD JUST TRICKED OGIER!? UGH THE HEAD HURTS! He stomped his foot, arms spreading a bit wider, eyes narrowed at this Saracen. But if he wasn't a saracen, then he was a friend of Ogier. That meant he might not be a threat to his love. This meant another person willing to give themselves to the cause!
"Friend of Ogier is friend of me!" Berserker declared, before reaching out for Ywain. The threat was minimal, but it all depended on if Ywain could survive a hug from a Berserker. Or if his bones would shatter under the pressure. If he dodged, that was fine. Roland would probably chase after him for a bit, constantly trying to hug Ywain as Ogier kept talking.

"Of course I'll help you on your quest as well, brother-in-arms, but what would your love say if she knew you were treating a lady this way? It seems to me you'd be better off seeking and destroying some foul villain."


Wait, was Ogier telling him he couldn't have his fairy tree!? Berserker's hugging chase made a pause, and he scowled at the idea of having to give up on his fairy tree. But there was another option. Destroy a villain! "I will slay an enemy for my love!" He declared, stomping his foot and making another swipe for Ywain. "And then she will love me! FIND ME THIS VILLAIN! I WILL SLAY THEM ALL!" His mind having moved on from the fairy tree, since there was a new way to prove his love! FOR SURE THIS ONE WOULD WORK OUT PERFECTLY!

In his hand was his sword, materalizing suddenly. The glorious Durandal. The shining blade that had no equal. He finally stopped trying to hug Ywain, and stepped towards his fellow Paladin. "I WANT TO DESTROY MY ENEMY AND THEN ANGELICA CAN LOVE ME!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Location / Bois de Boulogne
@GreenGoat-@Seirei No Hai@Floodtalon


"Actually, Nobukara, I have an idea." It was a brilliant plan actually. Something for everybody. Chieko really was a once inn a lifetime genius. "Tomo-Kun and I are more than capable of taking care of your leg. I even have Tatsu-chan coming in tomorrow. She's a lot more focused on that healing stuff. So, maybe our servants should run around town. Have a drink. Learn a bit about each other." There was a smile on Chieko's lips, clearly interested in spending some alone time with her former pupil.

It wasn't even a conversation, as Chieko scooped up Nobukara's arm, and began to march off. "Nanashi, Archer. I expect both of you to go run off! Have fun! Get drunk! Maybe go fight somebody! I'm sure there is somebody out there you two can spend time with. I'm sure "

From there, it wasn't hard to simply walk away. A servant wasn't needed, since after all it was poor taste to attempt to kill somebody you had taught anyway. And Chieko certainly wasn't about to waste a chance at a lot of money just because it was convenient. And Nobukara was in no position to attack Chieko either. So both servants could run off happy with the knowledge that the two masters were going to get along fine. Oh... And Tomo-kun was there too... I guess.

-----------------------------------
"So, Miss Nobukara, what do you think of our makeshift shrine?" Chieko said, as she was already working on that leg. It wasn't exactly hard to tell that something was already going on. The lightning burns were obvious. It was clearly a bad look, and even worse? It was clearly a serious threat. Nobukara has lucked out that this was the only serious damage. Burns, clearly some of the muscle was damaged. It was out of her skill to simply undo something like this. Well, not in the time the war was designated for.

"So, I can certainly ease the pain, and you'll be walking without a limp. But it's some serious muscle damage." She said, with a hand hovering over a nasty lightning scar. "You won't be doing kickflips immediately. I suggest we start looking into other options if you need something fast." There was a slight huff to the way she said that. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be a three hundred year old persian man with a severe case of chronic backstabbing disorder right now... Wait, why was she getting that specific?

What kind of character roles are you hoping to fill? Like if this was a DnD group.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet