Reflection

Fate Grand Order - World Shattering Star - PVE Style Rp

@The 42nd Gecko If you want help, let me know.

Deepest Abyss (Conquer the World)

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Was not easily impressed, or terrified. But even he had to admit there was something terrifying when a giant could fall. The spray of blood scattered about, and he felt nauseous in the presence of this... Watcher. Sure, he was human, and as such its aura would not be as apparent as it might be to fallen angels, or demons, but even he could feel awe, and fear. He took a step back, clenching his fist to recall his golem. Probably a bit late as the combat had drawn it further from him than he might enjoy. And far to far for it to turn quickly and guard him before the watcher reached.

He was immortal, but he saw what that other had done to the werewolf. He could not risk anything that might attempt to maul him, or worse capture him. "Eagles, attack!" Golden animatronics unfurled from beneath his coat, and several of his golden drones snapped to life. They sailed the distance between him and the attacker, while he stepped back further and further away. Each of the eagles divebombed at the attacker, two or three at once. He only had nine left after scrapping one to make the collars for the werewolves, but the goal wasn't to overwhelm with power. Rather, he expected them to maybe distract, draw attention, long enough for his guardian to charge back.

With luck, his Right Hand, a feat of imperial magitech, would slam into the blue armored watcher's back. Slamming fists down onto its wings, and forcing it to the ground.
"What are you waiting for, Azrael!? Help me!"

Fate Grand Order - World Shattering Star - PVE Style Rp

@vancexentan Maybe try an OOC, since not everybody sees interest checks.

One Piece: Foreword Unto Dawn

The Sea Turns Red

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Name: Makara
Title: Red Sea Makara
Bounty: $92,500,000
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Crew: Ash Pirates
Occupation/Skillset: First-Mate / The Best Face Puncher in all the Land!

Age: 25
Age Appearance: Mid 20's
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Allegiance: Pirate
Personality: The rebellious fighter who swears loyalty to another? What a conundrum! But it's true! The thing that drives forth this fishman is nothing less than to be loyal to his greatest rival, and person who gave him freedom from slavery. Perhaps it's an odd way to just hop from being a slave in an arena, to a different kind of servant. But he doesn't care. He's just here to fight, and be completely free when he's truly the strongest.
Laugh: MURAMURAMURA!
Birthplace: Fish-Man Island
History:

The Red Sea

His earliest memory... Is slavery. He barely remembers his mother, or his father. Not even his name. For he was known as Slave #2459 Only that he was born where all Fish-Man are. At Fish-Man Island. He atleast knows that, but he no longer cares. For he was slave, taken from his home by pirates. Sold on the market. These early years are a rush. He remembers no names. No faces. Only that he hated it. He fought, and he was punished. He fought, and then he was punished again. A vicious cycle. Again and again, the cycle repeated. Never-ending, till each master would give up, and sell him to another. He traveled far on that alone. To each new master, he was a prize. A rare specimen.

For he... Was a Fishman with red skin. A red-skinned shark. A marvel! A lovely prize to have! Only if they could control him. Each learned in time they could not, and would ditch their dangerous prize. As he grew from child, to a much more aggressive child. It wasn't until one day, when he was thrown into a hot box, that his life changed course.

"Why do you fight every command?"
"Shut up old man! I'm a Fishman! You are too! You should be fighting them too!"
"It's not about fighting, it's knowing when the fight is best done."
The speaker, was the head slave. The one in charge of the others. An older fishman, further in his years than even Slave #2459 could count. The Fishman elder sat by that hotbox for hours, speaking with the angry boy. Finally though... A question was asked...
"Elder, what was it like before you became a slave?"
"I was a fisher. I would take a boat out into the calm belt, and I would catch sea beasts."
"You're making that up. You're pulling my leg."
"You are in a box. How can I possibly be pulling your leg?"
"It's an expression I picked up at the last... Place... You know..."
"You've spent so long rebelling that you really have no idea where you are, haven't you?"
There was silence for what might have been a century. It was broken by the old man, and the words he spoke changed the way the young slave would think.
"Perhaps, I can show you the world you wish to fight for?"

That old fish, known later to slave #2459 was known as Makara. He was a former gladiator, who was paid for by their current owner years ago for the sole purpose of fighting in a gladiator arena on one of the nearby islands. The famed "Gladitorial Arena MegaPhone." The island itself was called such because the battles were so loud that they could be heard on neighboring islands.
Inspired by the old Makara's stories, slave 2459 requested that he be trained to be as impressive as him. Makra would hear none of it, until the young slave had finished his chores for the day. And when those were done, Makara would teach him one move. Every day the list of chores would grow, to test the young slave's resolve, and to strengthen his body. And everyday, slave 2459 did as such. And at the end of the day he would go through a different kind of training.
Every day his body strengthened. His fists shattered stone, and his heart flowed with unending tenacity.

Makara turned to his still nameless pupil. On that day it had been several years, and the slave was now 14 years old. He had grown to be a shimmering pillar of physical strength, and as such, it was time.
"You should be a gladiator. Win enough, and you'll earn your freedom."
The slave agreed, and with his mentor, he went to the arena. The process to sign up was long, tiring, and needlessly complicated. The only truly difficult part? A name. All fighters needed names, and a number was not a name.
Slave 2459 would spend several days writing up possible names for himself. That is when he wasn't practicing. It was on one of those practicing nights that another fishman slave met up with him. In the dark of the night, he had only one thing to say.
"Makara is dead!"
He had passed away in his sleep, his life trickling away without a single word given to his apprentice. He had not wanted to worry the lad.

A name was chosen. Makara. In honor of his teacher.
The newly named Makara made a name for himself in the arena. Strength, violent tendencies, a shocking physical appearance! He had it all. The Red Sea Makara, champion of the arena. Wealth, fame, it all came to him. But he was still a slave. Freedom never seemed to come. No matter how many battles he won, it would always be... "One more match away."
That final "One more match" was with a newcomer to the arena. Some nobody named Ishizoku. Though Makara didn't know it, he and that man would have a long future ahead of themselves. They met in the arena, and thus began a long, grueling fight for the both of them. Sure, one was a pheonix, and the other was a shark, but each trading of blows was a lesson for both. Brothers in arms, despite enemies in the arena. Their first match ended in a draw, and so did the second. Each time they met, the arena shook with their clash. That 'One more match" was a never ending gauntlet with two unwavering champions.
Until...

They exchanged a blow, and both realized at once... "With this man by my side, I could conquer the world!" Unspoken, they both had a connection. And their fists turned against the stadium. The paradise arena of Gladitorial Arena MegaPhone was completely annihilated as the two strongest fighters in all its history turned against the stone walls. Shattering convention in the process. The moment was short, but what followed... That changed Makara's life again.

"Hey, will you be my First Mate?"
"Deal."

Goal: To make sure his Captain is the best he can be, and that anybody who tries to get in his way is killed.
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Combat

Haki

Type of Haki: Armament Haki
Control: Intermediate

Type of Haki: Observation Haki
Control: Intermediate
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Weapons/Equipment
None. He gave up on such things after leaving the gladiatorial arenas.
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Fighting Skills/Attributes
- Fish-Man Strength (Shark) - Men are weak. Humans are very very weak. Fish-men? They are titans. Monstrous beings that are stronger than even the strongest humans on record. According to them at least. A fish-man's starting point in strength is much higher than the average person, as such a single fishman grunt is worth more than a hundred human grunts. While this advantage is less obvious when the punching tier rises, an individual like Makara is still punching in a higher tier of strength than one might expect.
To put it in simple terms, he bench presses with ships.

- Deep Sea Diving - Yep, he can go pretty deep. He tends to go deep, so that when he surfaces, he brings with him treasure form the depths. Some of it valuable, some of it not.

- Fish-Man Karate - A martial art that is practiced by certain skilled members of the Fish-Man race; it is noted that humans can also learn the fighting style, as Koala apparently is able to use it despite being human. While deadly enough on land, Fish-Man Karate has a number of devastating underwater moves designed to be suitable with the Fish-Man strength and speed along with the mobility that goes while under water and, in some cases, a fish-man's personal adaptation.
Despite being enslaved, Makara learned the basics as a child, and since then has developed his own impressive suite of strikes that he learned with the help of several prison brawlers. It can be best compared to wrestling, with clotheslines, lowblows, and body slams. While less useful against other Fishmen, it's excellent against humans because of the size advantage.

Karate Moves

- Five Hundred Heads Clothesline: A clothesline strike. The main difference? Using his fins, he collects water moisture in the air, creating a thin line of water along his arm. The result is a transformation of his limb into a scythe. The water pressure slicing through the neck of the target, or any limbs that may get in the way. His claim is that it can cut through people so easily that it could slice through five hundred men before he'd even be slowed.

- Five-Hundred Depths Drop: An elbow drop that destroys without hesitation. The pressure that builds up from this drop emulates the pressure one might have at the deep ocean. Five hundred depths deep, enough to shatter the bones of the average man, and even the bones of a slightly less average man. When amplified by Armament Haki, it transforms into Five-Thousand Depths Drop, which is even deeper.

- Five-Hundred Foot Wave Kick: A standing kick, that launches the target right into the air. It's a powerful strike that shatters the jaw of the target. Well, if it's a human. Famously, this kick was used to knock a whole Navy Vessel Five-Hundred Feet into the air. The impact force is more than enough to be described as "A wave that destroys everything."

- Water Guillotine: Comparable to the famous water-shot. But unlike watershot which is a single drop gathered into a single pinpoint accurate shot, this is a slicing blade. Gathering water on his fin, it is fired out at the target like a blade. The force was enough to cut through the mast of a ship, or even a sea-king. Underwater, its power is even greater. An execution wave that cuts through the ocean, leaving a scar in even the water.

Fighting Style:

Fate/High Rollers

Police Station, Sunrise ----> ???

@Scallop

They had time. After all, even if somebody did take notice to the disappearances in the police station, it would certainly take longer than a few minutes to piece it all together, and then send out a call for aid. In fact, Rider had pulled up by the next target, pausing only to speak to his master before he would leave and repeat his actions.

"Master, what you say has me worried." Ashurbanipal bit his lips, and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "It makes sense, but it still fills me with worry. Humanity's decline was clear even in the golden age. I was a scholar who discovered the old languages, and I could read tablets of magic from the lost eras of humanity. I knew secrets of the Gods. And yet... Everything I learned only made it more clear that humanity was starting a decline. It would rise, it would fall, but each rise would be lesser as more and more of what we knew became a stretched and worn concept." Perhaps it was nostalgia. Not all heroic spirits adjusted well to the changes in humanity. Some, like Christopher Columbus never gave up their old ways. That man was a slaver in life, and a slaver as a servant.

Maybe Ashurbaniapl was just one of those servants who didn't adjust well to the modern day. Though, he was kidnapping people for torture, so he was unlikely to be winning any awards for being well adjusted.

"Your promise is just going to make this easier." He smiled, and vanished. A minute later, he returned, and hit the gas. Taking the odd turn down an alleyway, making odd cuts as he drove about. "If we're being followed I have an idea." He said, and adjusted his cap. The city vanished as he pulled onto the highway. The path was pretty straight-forward, and he could really hit the gas. The wheel spun in his hand, as other cars swept past him. The wheels of his car bounced and the city was left far behind. After all, he had no reason to fight on the streets of the city. It would only get messy. And perhaps fighting in a city would only aid his enemy. He wanted to be the one to pick the fighting ground.

"Master, if things become dangerous, I have a room for you in my chambers." Ashurbanipal explained as he pulled the vehicle over to the side. The vast Mojave Desert before him, and any followers with only one way to go after him. "You'll arrive back at the library in an instant. It's an empty, unused torture chamber, so you'll just be able to leave it without a fuss." It was a good plan. Anything endangers his master, and he'd just whisk her away back to where she was most safe.

He didn't leave the vehicle, as if he was planning to fight from that if he had to. "And now... We can wait." He had already done enough set up. Waiting was what he needed now. Wait for all his set up to pay off.

Now Waiting at the Mojave Desert

Fate Grand Order - World Shattering Star - PVE Style Rp

@vancexentan I mean, this is based off Fate/Grand Order, and by a certain point, all the servants in Grand Order tend to drop their names within a minute or two. (Bar the ones from the Remnant arc, but even they dropped that pretty fast.)

Otherwise, I can do some "Because there is no grail war to rule over, it's sealed."

Edit: Put in her noble phantasms.

Fate Grand Order - World Shattering Star - PVE Style Rp

Anyway, if this does end up kicking off, despite the low interest in the IC, I'm gonna throw in a servant to sorta draw interest.

Still a WIP, but I decided to go with a Ruler instead of my initial ideas. (I was having too much trouble with Ma Chao's horse stuff. Almost turned him into a centaur.)

Saint Quiteria

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Name: Saint Quiteria
Title: Saint of Rabies
Class: Ruler
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
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Personality:

Bio:

Weapon:
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Parameters:
Strength: B
Endurance: B+
Agility: B
Mana: A
Luck: C
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Class Skills:
- Magic Resistance EX: Grants protection against magical effects. Differing from the Resistance effect that merely rejects Magical Energy, this ability cancels the spells altogether. She demonstrates high Magic Resistance due to her unwavering piety. However, since it is just averting (evading) the magecraft, fundamentally only Quiteria will be saved against a wide-range magic attack.

- True Name Discernment B: A Class Skill of the Ruler class where status information such as one's identity, Skills and Parameters are automatically revealed to the owner of this Skill when directly encountering a Servant. During a direct encounter, a Servant's true name and entire status information will be automatically revealed. In regards to Servants with concealment abilities, a Luck Check is required to bypass those abilities.

- God's Resolution A: A Class Skill of the Ruler class and is the privilege of the Ruler presiding over the Holy Grail War: the right to use Command Spells against Servants. Each Ruler is normally granted two Command Spells for each Servant that participates in the Holy Grail War.

Personal Skills:
- Jacob's Limbs B: A method of hand-to-hand combat of old that was continuously inherited from Jacob, to Moses, and finally to Martha. According to legends, a saint who mastered this would for sure beat to death an "angel of destruction" that leads 12,000 angels. Quiteria would roam the mountains, fighting monsters in order to prepare herself for the daily tasks required of her in fighting the Roman Empire.

- Saintly Voice A: A unique skill that comes from the body and soul. A saintly voice that allows one to penetrate barriers of communication that might stifle proper communication. It can be considered superior to animal communication, which it shares some similarities too. Quiteria used her saintly voice to command a pack of rabid dogs, holding them with her words alone. This skill allows for communication with beasts, or even other servants under the affects of mad enhancement or mental pollution. It is the ultimate tool of peace, and even acts as a form of mental interference that can paralyze a foe with words alone.

- Battle Continuation A+: A Skill that allows for the continuation of combat after sustaining mortal wounds. It will also reduce mortality rate from injury. This Skill represents the ability to survive and/or the mentality of one who doesn't know when to give up, consisting of one's strength of vitality in predicaments. It is also one of the powers of a vampire. The best result is achieved when a resilient body is combined with this Skill. After being captured by roman officials, Quiteria was beheaded, and body and head thrown into the sea. She emerged from the water, carrying her own head in her arms. She walked all the way to the church of Saint Mary, until passing on shortly after. She is not listed among the Cephalophore, due to some believing the tale to have never occurred. Whether or not it's true, she still displays this skill due to the legend's existance.
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NOBLE PHANTASMS

Noble Phantasms

Title: Nonuplet Sisters - Nine Sisters in Arms
Rank: B
NP Type: Anti-Unit (Self)
Range: 0
Maximum Number of Targets: 9
Description: The Nonuplet Sisters are the nine daughters of a noblewoman. Seen as a mark of shame, their mother attempted to have them drowned, but the maid sent to kill them had a change of heart, and left them with a christian monk. Quiteria is one of those nine sisters, a mark of shame upon nobility. When summoned, each of her eight other sisters becomes tied to her saint graph, and can be temporarily summoned alongside her. Manifesting all nine sisters can be taxing, due to their own legends being rather beefy as well. Each is a unique individual, but when tied to her Graph, each can only use the skills and noble phantasms of their lead sister.
Were her sister Saint Euphemia or Saint Liberata summoned instead, they would also share this noble phantasm, but Quiteria's skills would be replaced with theirs instead.

Title: Regis ad bestiam - To Shame the Lord to be an Animal
Rank: C
NP Type: Anti-Lord
Range: 0-25
Maximum Number of Targets: 25
Description: Upon birth, Quiteria was a mark of shame upon her mother. Her mother, a wealthy wife of a lord, was reduced in existence to that of a beast. An animal. As long as her daughters lived, she would be shamed for giving birth to nine children at once.
This noble phantasm is the mark of shame that is brought upon all lords. To take the crown of a king, and reduce the wearer to nothing but an animal. Their potent existence and pride lampooned and dragged down through the mud. Wearing away the power of lordship and imperial right, until they are animals. All nobility or those of regal strength are reduced to animals in concept, the ultimate conceptual attack against those who lord their strength on high over others.

Deepest Abyss (Conquer the World)

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Pain was a great motivator, but pain can only do so much when all other resources are lacking. Sure, he might have motivated their three remaining wolfmen to action, but it was clear they were far from enough. Worse, so far from being enough that all they could do was take advantage of the enemy's much slower motions. Thankfully... He never came alone.

"Right hand, exterminate." The lumbering titan that followed Velo lurched into action. It was much slower than the wolves, and in a regard one could say that slowmotion might have made it unsuited for fighting the mindless shades of the Nephelim. But, if the wolves could smack the creatures down, it was all in the power of the Right Hand to put them down for good.

The wolves were smart enough to move aside just time, before a fist slammed down onto their fallen enemy. That fist, charged with a fatal electric pulse, was more than enough to fry the brain, and implode the chest cavity. That emotionless machine was perfect for the emperor's desires.
"Do any of you need aid?" Velo inquired, gesturing for his Right hand to stay with the wolves. With luck, that might help motivate them to ignore the specter of death.

Fate/High Rollers

Police Station, Downtown -----> Police Station, Sunrise

@Scallop

Adjusting his seat, Ashurbanipal was back in the driver seat. His fingers running against the steering wheel, and feeling each groove in the gear shift. He could already tell he would prefer a manual over an automatic. Better control over the gears, less wear. Perfect for a Rider who might need to make certain turns another couldn't.

"We shall keep to the plan. Nobody has made any moves, and I'd rather get this done before the night ends. We're both at the highest risk right now, so keeping an active pace would be beneficial in the long, and short term. We're less likely to be attacked the further we move from the epicenter of the war." A simple plan, but simple didn't always mean it would work. Simply that it required the least amount of specific circumstances or leaps in logic to accomplish. But, his master clearly had other worries on her mind. Ones he might have to alleviate.

"We cannot rule out a Saber. I would not be surprised if one simply refuses to use a sword for the first night, to try and hide their identity. After all, some swords are so famous that they can give an identity away instantly." Ashurbanipal said. "But... But..." He rolled those buts around a bit. "Caster would never fight in such a way, unless they're uniquely qualified for hand to hand combat. Which, I doubt such an oddity would appear, or at least tip their hand so early. So, the choices are Archer, Lancer, Berserker, and Assassin. Assassin is also out, since no assassin would ever attack publicly so early either. Unless, as before with caster, there is a unique oddity. Which we are better off ruling out unless later proved wrong. So, we can assume that the three are either Lancer, Archer, or Berserker."

He waited for some descriptions of the fight's progress, before throwing in some opinions. "The one with the bench... I'm going to assume is the Lancer. It's the kind of weapon a Lancer would prefer if trying to hide their spear. Archer is the red headed one, by mere account of the third arrival being a far better fit for the Berserker class. Throwing a car sounds like them." He took a turn, almost tempted to just hit the gas and speed off even faster than he was going right now.

The car slowed at a traffic light. There weren't any other cars on the road at the moment, since they were slightly off the usual main roads that people might be taking in or out of the city. Their pleasant conversation was interrupted then, in the most filthy manner possible. Three hookers, knocking on the window.
"Hey there cutie!" One shouted through the window. "Can you give us a ride? We're low on cash, but it's getting cold out here, and we've always wanted to drive in comfort." One of the three even flashed their breasts. Unsightly. Annoying, and after that, they just kept rapping on the window. The light was still red.

"Forgive me Master... I cannot let this stand." Ashurbanipal said, letting out a trickle of magical energy. Three portals opened up around the vehicle, and before any of the three prostitutes could change their minds, three spears launched out. Like claws that dug into that exposed skin, and pulled them away into the golden portals. Each of the three gone in a moment.

"This entire city is the pits. Were my beautiful Assyria still around, I'd have torn this entire city apart for the good of humanity." He said, and hit the gas as soon as the light turned green. There were doubtfully any witnesses. And if there was, they would either be drunk, or just assume their eyes had played tricks on them. Still, it was a poor action on his part. A bit of disgust at the girls, and in himself for allowing such a moment transpire.

"Tell me, is prostitution like this normal now? In my time, the sacred prostitute Shamhat brought honor to her position. They welcomed, rather than harassed... Humanity has degraded."

Fate/High Rollers

Excalibur Hotel, Paradise -----> Police Station, Downtown

@Scallop

He was of the Rider class. That meant he could easily drive such a modern vehicle with ease. It was after all, the purpose of his class. And yet, he craved a chariot. And yet, as Ashurbanipal sat behind the wheel of that limo, he found the knowledge came to him so easily. This is so much better than walking.

His foot hit the gas, and despite the vehicle's less than graceful nature, it was so easy for him to find that sweet spot. The garage door opened, and he spun the wheel. Suddenly hitting the road, cutting off another vehicle in the process. His tires squealing, and his eyes on the road. He didn't break any laws, not ones that would get him attention anyway... He'd probably ditch the vehicle later, and get something a bit more graceful, like a cab.
Exhaust sputtered out, and he drove down the road. Away from the fighters. Away from the masters and servants bickering and brawling. He was thankful that another showed up, since that meant it was unlikely he'd be chased by a combat hungry fighter. They'd all find themselves after all. He had to put his systems in place.

Sure, he was no caster that would hide in their base all war, but he was certainly no Saber who would run out into public, swinging their sword about without hesitation. He was a more... Graceful kind of ruler. He wanted his resources. He needed his knowledge.
"Everything you said is perfectly possible." He said, adjusting the mirror as he made a harsh turn. With his luck, practically every light was green. Perhaps that was just servant luck. Or just great timing.

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"Set up a bounded field." Ashurbanipal didn't need to say it, but he felt it necessary to say so anyway. Their vehicle had pulled across the street from the police station, the first step in their current plans. Stretching for a moment, Rider didn't even step out of the vehicle. Instead, he began to disappear, vanishing into light as he returned to his spiritual form. It was better to do such, than to put a face on any cameras that might be sitting outside the station.

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The Las Vegas Police Department

The police station was a bustle. For many reasons, but on this particular night they were bringing in several members arrested in a gang fight. Paperwork would be a nightmare. Not that any of them would be getting the chance to do such, as a spirit drifted through their building. The camera room was the first spot of interest. No faces. No evidence...
He materialized in the camera room, standing behind the only guard in front of the various monitors. Too busy looking at the monitors that he didn't even have a moment to react before Ashurbanipal grabbed him by the neck. Lifting him from his chair, he threw the guard behind him. A portal opening up, to drag that man all the way to a torture chamber that was already being set up in anticipation.

Ashurbanipal raised his hand, and the camera system was destroyed. Spears fired from golden portals by his side, impaling the machines and ripping them apart with ease. The entire system suddenly went down, and soon, he began to patrol the halls. It was quick, efficent. The whole process from parking his car to returning to it took about a minute, at most two. He would hold up a hand, and chains would lash out from the portals he could summon. Each grabbing an officer or criminal, some even two at once, and dragging them suddenly backwards. None raised their guns in time, and none stood a chance against a servant.

One raised his gun, only to find the weapon shattered in his hands, and then his whole body yanked towards the robed man who was casually strolling through their station. The jail cells were emptied, the police on staff all vanished...

Ashurbanipal returned to a spiritual state, and appeared next in the driver seat of his vehicle.
"Master, I hope I didn't keep you waiting." Ashurbanipal said, with a smile on his lips. "There were roughly one hundred individuals in that station. A healthy amount of bodies, wouldn't you agree?" He took a noticeable pleasure in this. The people now filling his prison were two different kinds. Bringers of justice, and bringers of chaos. Now, both would be sharing the same idolized fate.
"So, onto the next station?"