Yukitamas

Fate/Moribund Swarm

Saber'll be up soon.

Naraka

Travel Towards the Church

No Time For Guilt or Sins

He stood there again, back at the park. The bat that he held earlier was now on the ground and he found himself not paying it a second glance as he walked off. He was in a daze, walking without direction. Surprisingly the matter of the powers that the realm let him tap onto, and the notion that he'd have to kill people for survival and the birth of a wish didn't come to mind either. Or rather, its weight did not. He would kill someone, and so his mind thought of that in the context of how to accomplish it. Look for someone, fight someone. Ah, it didn't matter at this point. Was it really worth planning that much when everyone didn't know what the powers of the others could be like? No, it was better to look and find someone and just defeat them before they felt assured of their situation.

The silent city that seemed a model looked down upon by the red sky's uneasiness was broken up by the jogging of a man. Despite his newfound strength he still paced himself, not so confident in his stamina even in Naraka. The sense of the idea that his body was hurt, with the scars refusing his lungs and chest from simply reigniting. His body did not explode into action as he would have otherwise wished, it being more akin to a rusted furnace charred black with a half-sealed pathway of fuel clogged by ash clumps of dust and gunk.

Well, he was sure that the silent city would carry the noise of the soon to come fights far. His best bet was maybe to search in the central district, where people would likely flock to in hopes of being able to either move away or go towards any fights that spark up in the city. A neutral response maybe, cautious enough in a way that someone could hope to be overlooked or swiftly capitalize on an opportunity.

But just doing that seemed like something that would be reliant on blind fortune as to whether luck favored you or not. To someone like him... no, he couldn't rely on fortune and luck, not when everything happened to be taken from him in the past.

He'd make a bolder move, one with purpose and intent. With something as questionable as a battle to the death for survival and desire some would probably go to bury their hesitations and guilt at a church or shrine. He recalled the presence of one when he was out on the town and decided it was a fitting first place to check. Those with doubts and any sentimentality so as to pray for their soul and the souls of their enemies simply were blind, weren't they?

His eyes looked for once towards the future, a future that was simply a light reflected by the past. There was nothing wrong with making a future into the past. The present and its continuation was a nightmare. He'll continue his true life. All it'll take is the death of those others.

Naraka

It was as if common sense and the world around him was shattered by the strike of the bat. When he looked up he found that he was in a strange land, a strange world that was the town he was stranded in, and yet not as well. Mouth gaping like a fish, he found himself at a loss of words as he found himself in a circle with a group of strangers.

"Hua-buwah?"

His eyes glanced over at the others as he moved to pick his bat back up into his hands, cradling it in his arms as if it were a pillar of stability that would keep him safe amidst these strangers and this even stranger phenomena. It was a bit frightening, although frankly more bewildering. He sat there, silent, eyes locking onto the girl that spoke as an authority when she began to explain the situation. His agape mouth only opened further, making the man look as though he were mimicking a fish that spotted a large piece of bait.

A fight to the death.

A fight where his life was at risk, a fight where he would have to murder to survive. He should say something, he should feel outraged, he should feel angry. That was what would be normal, that was what would be sensible.

He rose up.

Even if he accepted it there were many questions that should be asked. The why, the how. Even if it was a question in vain such a set up should still be questioned.

The red sky, the strange words and powers that he was forced to be aware of and given?.. no, not given. They were not something given by some whim, handed down by some mandate of heaven or some twisted miracle of god. But to acknowledge that they were part of him...
Was it that he was destined for such a misfortune from the beginning?

He tightened his grip on the toy bat in his hand. The notion made him want to scream. Yet he felt more alive with that rage than he had in those days after the accident.

He wanted to go back. Now there was a chance.

He took in a breath and tried to calm some twitching fingers. His palms were sweaty, and his lungs choked up for a moment, his words coming out raspy and a bit choked.

"When do we begin?"

The cause of his body's reaction was not a revulsion, of a horror or fear. It as of desire, of excitement. A slight giddiness filled his heart, bubbling through his veins and causing him to hiccup. A person's inner desire, a core desire that was to be manifested and become one's strength. A strength that was born of a want and was then used to pursue its fulfillment. He could not decide if it was a crude or a beautiful notion. But he could not deny that he had such a desire. Yes, it was all too clear.

For that he'd easily kill a few strangers, perhaps even the ones he knew so long ago. Yet that would be a strange, as weren't they part of the life he'd want to reclaim? Ah what a contradiction, but such a contradiction would not stop him anyway. It didn't matter what, or who. He'd be happy to kill, he'd be happy as long as he won. He wanted to go back, back to where he belonged and what he was.

His eyes began to blur and he felt a heat spread from his eyes, traveling through his temples and spreading out to down to his chin and up to his forehead. Ah, he was close to crying. To think that miracles could exist. Even one stained in blood was beautiful.

The competitors who were presented with the same opportunity, that he would kill or be killed by faded from his ground, and even as his eyes continued to stare at the girl he only saw the memories of the past that flashed through his mind. Whether the others would see him as a frightened and feeble man or not he did not care.

Naraka

"..."

"Dear Krause Barleyton."

"We have experienced a change in schedule that impacts your upcoming flight. Please see the changes to your itinerary below."

He clicked and refreshed the page of the email, as though hoping that it would in fact go away or say something else.
The page that greeted him time and time again stood unflinchingly with the conviction of fearless 1's and 0's that could not understand human emotion. Yet, with the slight flicker that spread across the screen. That he wondered whether it that was the product of unclear eyes losing focus from alcohol. Or if it was the power of the laptop laid across the table he half slumped over, half stared at from an odd angle.

He'd already been drinking. There was nothing left for him to do that he had to come in properly for. But as he racked his knuckles against a glass he pondered that he had a reason for it for once. Passing on the first cab for his boss and a woman that he had apparently picked up somehow. Delayed with a taxi with a tire that got ripped. Traffic that seemed to clog up the sub-urban artieries of the highway just for him.

He had to get back, but apparently every flight home was canceled and moved onto a to be determined date. For that matter there wasn't really an option back that he could figure out. What was to be a series of business trips around and meetings culminated in a sleepy town now ended up an impromptu stranded day to week. The small hotel room found itself swiftly decorated with the hallmarks of Krause Barleyton's presence. Clothes littered, a bottle or two lined up on a table that swiftly were emptied and transformed into hollow tall-standing pillars of glass.

There weren't options that were practical for leaving in a timely fashion so he wrote out a mail to his workplace. But the laptop was left, staring at the back of the man who left his hotel room, forgetting to send it and not even bothering to close the computer.

...

Ah, there was no point in being here.

Almost as though guided by the mocking hand of fortune the window overlooked a park where a baseball field proudly stood still. As the dirt and grass-seeded world shone in his eyes, his gaze guided by the setting sun's rays falling upon it, a cone similar to the field that seemed to fill it perfectly. The game that he so desired to leap back into immutable in comparison to his vision that seemed to get more and more blurry.

...

Ah, what was he doing?

The moment he opened his eyes that seemed to close of his own violation he was in the field. A plastic bat for kids, not even a true bat but one for softball, as though showing how far he fell, held in his hands. Another bottle slipped from his other hand as he stumbled towards the mound. His hand clenched tight.

Ah, why was he here?... no, the real question was why wasn't he here? Why wasn't he at the bat? in the field? The question came with a surge of anger. Why? why? why?

He raised his bat over his head, fingers clenching the handle hard enough for his fingers to feel cold. The rest of his body shuddered, but his hands, for that moment, only now, felt as steady as they were back then.

With a cry he swung down, pining for the days he had lost.

If only if he could...

But that would be a miracle that laid within the realm of the impossible.

Naraka

Krause Barleyton

Name: Krause Barleyton.

Age: 46

Gender: Male

Appearance

Personality: A bitter person who seems to live in memories. Not moving forward, nor unable to think in new terms. In a way he’s a person who never grew up. This is not in the terms of not adapting and growing more capable to meet the responsibilities of adult life, although the only thing one could say he’s managed in terms of that is to keep to the basic necessity of working to keep himself housed and fed, wasting time in idle entertainment. The sense of growing up is the sense of time passing, of growing and changing, of becoming a different being with the passage of time. A person is not the same person as they were a year ago, and people transform day by day as a result of their experiences and newly changing values and wisdoms. The mind and viewpoint of Krause is stuck in the past, not advancing from the days before his accident. Yet people change because they must as the world changes. A person who holds onto a past that only becomes farther and farther distant from the past is a living ghost, a wraith, a mere shadow of a man. The present is something he lives in, exists in, yet his mind and frame of reference is a distorted view from the past.

In a way the most hopeless of people. Misfortunate but also a victim of their own self. Other paths and potentials wither on the vine, unrecognized by the gardener who could cultivate them. He instead deciding to go through the rites of tending to and honoring a tree that has grounded into rot.

While one might assume that he simply wanted to continue on connected to his dream in some manner he simply picked something that fell within his awareness, his awareness of that which seemed unrelated to his pass dull and almost unnoticeable. It isn't that he decided to go into this sort of work consciously, it was more that it was the only option that seemed to exist in his eyes. Living a shell of a life, keeping to himself and keeping to a formless routine in which the days blur in together. Indeed, it would take an amazing shock, perhaps even bordering on the supernatural to open his eyes to the world once more.

But even then a life built on regret, and the pining of the past cannot suddenly give birth to a man. But perhaps this shade, this past shall find itself staring at the future and present for once.

History: Everything that has occurred in their life up until now, which is worth noting. Nobody is allowed to know about the existence of magic, Naraka, or so on. Also, whether born in it, or having just moved in last week, your character must be in the small, largely suburban town of Riversfield at the start of the roleplay.

A man who wasted away, a sad shell who lives only to be a hollow container for dreams that once were and good times long past. A young boy that was the single child to loving parents, a good home, growing up in a small city in the mid west of the United States.

A talent for athletics, specifically Baseball built him up as a rising star. One whose future looked bright with scholarships and a potential to reach the big leagues. His life proceeded smoothly until a vehicular accident on a family trip shortly after his highschool graduation. Hurting his shoulder, and losing his parents. He found himself plunged into a life with the loss of his dream, set life and support.

Life insurance, the liquidation of assets. He retreated from life and stopped living. Withdrawing he simply didn’t die, keeping his body running for as long as he could with his life of solitude. Someone who simply lived in memories, not truly there.

Eventually he became a normal worker, becoming a employee for a company that deals with sportswear for children. Despite finding there to be pain in working with things that reminded him of what he wanted and had he nevertheless found that he had nothing else to go for. For a person like him whose thoughts all centered around the past the idea of going for something brand new and starting all over simply did not come to him. Like a wraith living in the past.

Eventually in the present day he came to Riversfield as part of a business trip, one that is coming to a close as something new comes to force itself on the one who never moved on.

Skills:

Hand-eye coordination (degraded): Once a rising star in the baseball scene, Krauss's ability to react, and coordinate his body with himself and mind is higher than most individuals. Even out of practice this ability that is hardly used in his normal life

Good throwing accuracy and speed (degraded): Intent blends in with ability. While hardly anything that approaches a supernatural ability, the knowledge of his capability and his ability to enact his plans in terms of throwing objects, especially baseballs is definitely that which can be recognized as a skill befitting one that could have reached the realm of a famous pro.

A Fine Knowledge on Bad Alcohol:Depression leads to drinking. Hardly a connoisseur, it's more that one is numb to the taste of alcohol and has built a tolerance that those who drink not for the pleasure of the drink itself, nor socially have.

Education: Nothing beyond a standard highschool education. Many facets were perhaps a bit skimped on, or otherwise degraded overtime however.

-Malus: Old injuries left from the accident leave him easily short of breath, and his chest with aches. Stamina is hardly a strength of Krauss in these days.

Fate/Dark Amazon

Magecraft is elaborated on. Pure Eyes, Spooky Shadows, Mememagic and such was removed.

I am keeping the Chains, will keep Swan Lake if a second is allowed.

Fate/Dark Amazon

Master

Name:Bryn Fallensteller

Gender:Female.

Age:28
Personality: A girl who craves the top, the spotlight. Attention and status. She is someone who understands that there are heights she cannot reach, just like the rest of her family, and that there are others who can reach farther than her. But one does not need to hide in another’s shadow forever.

To be acknowledged by Bryn is to invite her desire to drag others down below her and stand above them. To be acknowledged by Bryn is to be admired and envied. Not wishing to be outshined, wishing to have something to connect them with her, so she can say that she’s the same type of being.

She enjoys besmirched “beautiful” things, but does not enjoy those that were never grand or “beautiful” in the first place. Things that are simply pristine and beautiful are things that she admires, things that are tainted or fallen beauties she enjoys. But those that simply are below, with little inherent value are but fodder, dirt and mud to which stars shine all the more being surrounded by.

”Learn the pain of being overshadowed like me, be humiliated by being toppled by one lesser like me. But please, join me…”

In a way like a certain man that looks like a chocolatier, she could be said to be a person driven by an inferiority complex.

Appearance:


Biography: When she was born she was enchanted by the lights people gave off.
When she grew she was delighted by the fact that she glowed greater than all others. She was pretty, she was talented, she was smart. In her eyes she was brighter a light and a greater person than the others around her. Growing with no siblings she was made the heir of the Fallensteller’s despite a personality that sometimes was problematic. She spent time in the modern world to look upon others, elated to know things they didn’t, happy to perform better than mundane people at the only side of the world that they knew. Her life was filled with her own happiness and gratification.

But she was not born an existence that would stand at the top. To live in a small world, isolated and ignorant of the heights of humanity. To hear stories through shared information and tales of others, and to experience those who stood taller than you were two different things.

Going to Clocktower Bryn found herself as a good, but not exceptional student. With her eyes she saw those who shined greater than her, greater than any others she met. There were those who considered her nothing special, there were those who seemed to be unaware of their status even as they took for granted a brilliance that she could not match. She found herself trying to catch up, to reach for them and coming up short. A big fish in a large pond who discovered the ocean. If only if she could be considered great, if only if others would look upon her the way she looked at them.

She’d find something that would make people remember her, that would make people look at her. Even if it was just fame that some magi would consider cheap, or a small influence in the squabbling conflict between the factions of the Mage Association. A pursuit unfitting of a magus.
A pursuit for the satisfaction of a girl who did not enjoy growing up.

To participate in the Magus Network seemed like a way that she could become a star, someone that would be known. While not naive enough to believe that she could gain the admiration of all magi with a trifling competition such as this she hopes anyway that her name will stay with them.

Incidentally as though she were a normal girl more than a few years younger than her actual age she runs a few social media accounts and a blog.

Family History (if applicable):

A family that pursues the root under the belief that by becoming that which drags that which stands above them, and shackles things into place, they can become the ones to drag the root down to the level that they can access it. To degrade and lower one to one’s reach. One cannot raise themselves, one must accept their stature and look to see how else they may make their height sufficient. The Fallensteller accept themselves as normal men, as those who cannot achieve the impossible. Yet they strive anyway, looking to instead make the impossible that which is possible for them. If one cannot reach to the stars then one must lower the star to reach beyond their grasp.

Due to their philosophy the heir was not always decided upon birth, the one born with the most innate talent and potential but instead the one who simply stood higher than the other candidates when the time for a decision was made. A family of traitors, usurpers and those who worked to drag others down, even their family. Whenever there was a vye for succession only when the crest was transferred and the heir formalized did conflict die down with other members supporting it.

A family known for being a pain to deal with and even worse to associate with. While holding a reputation (hardly all that good), they have been left alone in a forest that neighbors a town in their homeland of Germany with others having little reason to disturb them.

Origin:Longing
Elemental Affinity:Water
Number of Magic Circuits:B
Quality of Magic Circuits:B

Od:C

Magecraft:

Magic Crest with general knowledge of general middle/eastern european curses. Curses based on physical interference/physical degradation. One could say that they are like debuffs to use RPG terminology. An example would be things like the Gandr.

Magecraft relating to binding, such as a normally cast mental suggestion, or the chains of the story of Fenrir. Otherwise there is a spell to cause the congregation of spiritual bodies, grudges and/or apparations. This is by using a grudge(wraith) or apparation as a catalyst to designate something as a false gathering spot for grudges or apparitions. The precedent of "This grudge/apparation was here." used as a false flag to designate it as a congregation place.

Basic Clocktower education.

Leyding, Dromi, Gleipnir. The chains that grow to shackle the wolf.

Based off the mythological story of Fenrir’s ensnarement Bryn Fallensteller utilizes chains, in her
case, created out of her hair. Borrowing the conceptual base of the bindings that were used upon Fenrir, and altered to her tastes as cruel spiked chains, Bryn uses them both as a weapon and as the bindings they were intended for.

As Leyding it is a chain no harder than normal steel. Sharp like the stem of a rose, it is the starting point of this reproduction and often what she wields. Should it be broken or escaped from Leyding transforms into Dromi, a fetter twice as strong that reforms in a storm of metal to bind its target once more. Should Dromi also fall then it is finally the ribbon-like Glepnir that forms. The cost of this ritual is that as one struggles or damages the chain damage is reflected to the hands of Bryn, symbolizing the sacrifice of Tyr. While only pain while the chain is Leyding and causing great physical trauma as Dromi, should Gleipnir be damaged or shattered then Bryn’s hands will surely be mangled to a point that they would be a mess of meat and bone that could not be recognized as hands.

Oceanic Cradle:Love me oh water, love me oh death.

The Kelpie, Rusalka, Sirens. Numerous spirits exist in this world that lay man astray and to the foreign environment of rivers, oceans and pools where they find themselves ensnared, drowned, killed or otherwise ruined. Hair is used as a catalyst in a ritual to designate a body of water as a “gate” and “familiar” that takes life as a “haunted body” and attempts to collect the life of men to take the form of familiars that mimic spirits and phantoms that charm and bewitch those around them. The spirits involved are those that humanity blames for the deaths and dangers of the unknown waters that still elude the light of civilization, attempting to drag those that their master commands them to target, or otherwise any life that draws near into the realm that represents the unknown depths. A land of water where one drowns in darkness. It is no abyss that is beyond human understanding but a fragment of reality that has yet to be fully explored. And yet there is beauty in death, there is beauty in the whispers that lead one to their doom. It is a land of serene and calm, coaxing one to simply let their lives be doused and accept the end. Rather than mental interference it is a natural compulsion that strikes one similar to how natural bounded fields and feng shui can alter and influence the behavior and fortune of people.

Equipment: Limited to the contents of a Dark Amazon-supplied backpack. High-level Mystic Codes, guns, and the like are disallowed.

Catalysts for curses. Make up kit, a modern cellphone.

Skills:

Technology Savvy - For a modern magus Bryn is surprisingly technologically savvy. A customer of Dark Amazon herself and one who at times even looks into modern trends. In a way it is the skill of one who wastes time pining at the popularity and public eye that the stars of the mundane and modern world hold.

Good Memory and Calculation. While hardly on the scale of a human computer like an alchemist, the processing power of the MK Fallensteller 8.0 is rather good. Although with it’s attention not all that focused all the time perhaps it’s not that big of an advantage?

Make up and grooming. A vain sort and desiring to make good impressions, Bryn boasts a cared for appearance, with groomed hair, well kept nails and a face touched upon with various products. While one might say this goes counter to the idea of not raising yourself and instead lowering others around one’s self, it is a concept more applied to comparing your best to others in the eyes of Bryn.

Blogging. While no Magical Mari, the ability of Bryn Fallensteller to manage social media and some trends is a lot higher than what most magi would ever be expected to be capable of.

Wraith Request Form
Designation: Non-Magus. Member of the AK48.

Skills:
Singing.
Knowledge of Fanbases and Pandering
Knowledge of Entertainment/Media.
General Idol Things.

Fate/Dark Amazon

The first tidbit to mention is that I'll be requesting a idol wraith.

Fate/Dark Amazon

Halfway done with my app.

Fate/Dark Amazon ["Holy Grail War" with a twist]

I'll have something soon. Interest is piqued.