Avatar of Black Alice
  • Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
  • Posts: 261 (0.08 / day)
  • VMs: 1
  • Username history
    1. Black Alice 9 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

<Snipped quote by Black Alice>

Checkmate, atheists.




Checkmate, theists.
<Snipped quote by RC3>

I'm casting a personal vote for no elves/dwarves/halflings, AKA 'classic' fantasy races. They're so ingrained into the realm of modern fantasy, I feel they don't add anything particularly special, unless they fill some special role in the story. Humans are an incredibly diverse species (as we know IRL) and basing other races off niche human traits is something of a disservice. But that's just me.


But elves are cute, therefore your opinion is invalid. How does it feel to be so easily defeated you scum~?
Due to some unrelated silliness, I'll be honourably withdrawing from this. My sheet wasn't even up yet, so I imagine this should be fine with everyone. Wish you all the best, and whatnot~
This has earned my interest.
Discord invite is invalid by the way.
The air was crisp, and humid to the taste; the sun hugged low against the horizon, bathing the world in its incandescent embrace.
Looking from above, the city would seem almost tranquil in its morning bustle.
All the little people, living their simple lives.
Little did they know that today-

"Caster. This is the place."
-a menace arrives in Blue Fields.
Early Morning
Historical District / Blue Fields Museum of Anthropology
An aging middle-aged man in an equally aging red pickup truck comes to a complete stop at the crosswalk just in front of the museum, allowing two young girls to cross in front of him. His ordinary reaction would be to give a friendly wave, but even when he tried to move his hand- it wouldn't budge. The man's heart was pounding in his chest, and he found himself unconsciously swallowing at the sight before him. They were like angels wearing flesh. One, a rosy-skinned beauty whose sun kissed blonde hair shone in the morning light; the other possessing an otherworldly charm, with pink hair and wings that could only belong to a member of God's kingdom.

He was just admiring the winged maiden's stylish winter clothing when suddenly, his heart stopped beating. A sideways look from the girl in pink, followed by a knowing half-smile that gave away only as much as it hid. She whispers a quick word to the blonde, who graces him with her own look; it was an intense, scrutinizing gaze, not unlike that of an animal's. Before he had time to formulate a response, the girl was there. "Good morning, Mister~! Do you think you could help me and Sis here?" Her way of speaking was brisk, and tilting. A perfect imitation of a maiden caught out in the cold. As if sensing his hesitation, the girl speaks again- "We won't take much of your time, I swear."

Her assurance helped to cover up the strangeness of her request, and the man complied without having to be persuaded further. Who was he, after all, to refuse the request of a beautiful young girl such as she. Already, he was caught up in her rhythm. When she smiled, his body warmed; when she moved, he followed along without protest. He bumbles out of his vehicle, just barely recognizing that he couldn't just leave his truck out on the road before his thoughts were interrupted by a warm, soft sensation against his right arm and a voice in his ear. "Great! We can't thank you enough, really. See, we're new in town..." She continues on, speaking as the two of them walk. They soon joined up with the other girl on the sidewalk, who took his other side and walked along with them up to the Museum's main entrance...

She sure looks like she's having fun. Honestly, this is completely unnecessary. Mina's internal dialogue was accompanied by no external indication of her train of thought. She prowled onward silently, her gait efficient and balanced at the civilian's left side. Her eyes scanned their surroundings carefully, not lingering any significant amount of time on any one thing. No signs of other civilians. Are cities normally like this? While she had been the leader for most of the way here, she prudently decided to follow her Servant's lead once they arrived in town. Ironically, this young girl summoned from the Age of Gods had more knowledge of the modern era than her. This had been strangely amusing to Caster, although Mina didn't really get the joke.

Mina looks up at the Museum's somewhat intimidating front entrance, a grand set of glass double doors leading into what was largely a concrete-based structure. She counted two stories, not quite enough for their purposes, but it would have to do. What was important wasn't above, but below them. She could feel it. The ground beneath her was screaming silently at how it was mangled, defiled and sullied beyond belief. The souls of the dead, disturbed and mocked; their grudges seeped into the ground like poison, filling the air with the fumes of their hatred.

It felt just like home.

As they enter the doors and approach the smiling young woman at the reception desk, Mina smiles and opens her briefcạ̴̣̐s̸̳̖͝e̸̡̱̔*̵̮̅͋ͅ^̸̟̱̓&̵̖͚̂̈́@̷̲̪̿̕!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌&̸̗͖̒*̸̦̬͗@̵̝̾́#̸͍̦̾̎%̷̧͈͊̎^̴̭̔̀&̸̭̳̈́͠%̶̲̽$̴̜̓͝#̵̫̾̈́@̶̤̍͜$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$̸̲̠̇̾^̷̫͛*̶̥͋(̶͉̪͒)̷̛͇(̸̰͘ͅ$̷͉̔%̴̍ͅ!̷̱̓#̷͍͂$̶͔̾#̶̗͐͝@̵͉̎̕$̷̩̖͌%̸̜̜̇$̶͎̬͊&̷̲̔^̴͈̂̈́(̵͕́͌#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗@̵̛̠͚͑#̵̛̪̯̂$̵̲̘̀%̷̟̭͋@̷͚̊͂#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌(̸͉̹̉^̷̛̖@̴̺̳͛#̸͖̓͜$̴̟̈́̃&̸̭͊͊*̸̨͑͐*̸̪̙̌^̸̥̠̃͐#̵̱̔$̵̰̯̅%̶͍̿^̶̖̽@̴̦̑̈͜#̷̫͑̋!̸͖̜̌̚#̷̖̈͠%̴̠̈̃$̷̝̏͘^̴̨͔̂&̴̯̗̄͂#̸͖̂%̶͉͓̕^̷̗͜͠@̴̯̿̚$̴̨̀̔͜$̵̡̳́̋#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ$̸͕̮̎%̶͈͖͠$̴̰̊%̶̦͙̎&̴͔͂̓*̵̹̎̒(̵͖̈́̕)̸̤̓ͅ*̷̲̦͐̒&̴̣̀̎͜&̷̼́͝*̶̢͍̄͝$̴̛͕!̵̫̔͌(̴̠̤̽&̴͓̔@̸̯̯̿̾*̶̡̌#̶̨̔̐$̶̛̼͑%̷͍͖́͗#̷̠͠$̸̢͉͛%̷͕̄@̷͕̾̎#̵̬̠̄$̸͈̆%̴̭͑#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒$#̷̢̈̈@̶̣̭̆̒$̶̖̙̓%̵̫̪͐#̸̢̝͊̕!̴̡̈́͐ͅ$̵͓̬̈̕!̷̺̇#̶͎̥͂̒$̶̟͎̑̾%̶͕̉̿ͅ!̵͉̞̏̐#̸͗ͅ!̸̛̙͚̄$̷̰͇̔̓#̸̗̒
His thoughts scream. His mouth opens, but the only sound that could escape was squealing. The thick smell of metal coats his nostrils as he snuffles, shaking his head back in forth in an attempt to clear the red substance from his face. It was no use. It was never any use. Why? Why? Why? Why?

Why did he have to follow her?
"I knew you were a monster since the moment I saw you, Master. But you really are something else..." Circe turns her nose up distastefully at the gore, while Noël wipes the blood from her fingers with her mouth. "What are you talking about, Caster? It's not like we could let them go after they saw us here. Memory Alteration would leave too noticeable an imprint on any enemy Magi in town." "I know, I know. At least I got some <cute> piglets out of this... and no, you're not eating those ones."

"Tsk..." Mina's response was partially in jest, as she finishes cleaning herself and turns to face the scene in front of her. The museum hall was dense with blood. Here and there, gnawed up corpses lie with horrified expressions frozen permanently on their face. On an island of immaculate cleanliness in the center of the viscera, sits a conspicuous, gorgeously crafted cedar briefcase. Mina walks across the blood and guts, picking up the briefcase by its carrying strap before turning to her Servant with a look of confirmation.

"Shall we begin?"

A pause. Circe gazes around at the devastation, the barest touch of disgust in her heart as she takes in the brutality of it all. But she understood clearly. This was her Master's nature as a Magus, it wasn't something for her to question or fight. The two had established their relationship as equals, brought into accord by convenience and shared intentions. Circe would get the dessert at the end, and Mina would get the feast that comes before. It's simple... isn't it?

"Of course, Master~" she chimes, twirling her staff in her hands to begin establishing the boundary. Her voice rings out in the divine language, guiding the world into obeying her will. It was simple. To get what they wanted, the two of them would need to win this war.

And in order to win this war, what they needed first of all was a base.
Moved to Characters tab.
Relocated to Character Tab.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet