Enkryption

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

...it's 3:16 AM, for me, and I'm just wondering where people's posts are...

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

<Snipped quote by The 42nd Gecko>

punch him. That's never worked out and also exactly the reason you should do it.

@Ammokkx

Pfft! Love it.

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

Marshall

“It’s nothing,” Marshall says. “Just an old sword that I forged for someone I knew, many years ago,” he sighed, “I've many trinkets lying around, many exploits and... let's call them adventures... for innocence's sake,” Harliqueen was a welcome distraction, “Do you want in on the conversation, or just more to eat,” Marshall followed her lazy line of sight, “Food, then.”

Suddenly, he felt it. All but flinging himself to his feet, Marshall extended his sense of self as far out as he could, and grinned. “Finally...” he clenched his right fist, and looked back to Amanita and Cyll, “Find some place to hide, kids. Time for Beasts to play.” It was almost an afterthought, as the immortal set Harliqueen down, and made for the door.

Unhesitatingly, Marshall raced down the path that Mushi and Mucu had, tracing the Sin that came from the same direction, before coming to a full stop. “How curious,” he says, pointing at the woman, “Envy is still more attractive than Lust. And, they say, jealousy is ugly.”

There was a loud bang, as blood, explosively, left the gauntlet -- far more power than usual put into the already powerful shot. Marshall grinned wickedly, and the woman would noticed a all too familiar dagger at her feet. “Been taking care of her for me,” he asks, before a tendril of blood whipped the dagger back to him, “I don’t steal used goods, you know.”

---

Attn: @The Irish Tree, @Ammokkx, & @The 42nd Gecko

---

Sayaka

A Dream to Outfox ‘Em All

"Child of the Sky..." A voice rang out, calling from within the widespread arms of sleep.

“Huh...? I’m in the ground, though,” grumbled Sayaka, trying to turn over; an impossibly in her current, phantasmal state. “Are you a huge one of those, uh, um...~ Oh! Dhirom!””

"I am the Dawn, and Dusk of creation. I have come to you as you near the brink. Death stalks, and soon it shall reap. Your life comes to a close...yet the Sky has need of you yet. Here, you shall not fall. Here, you shall rise. As one who decides the fate of this bloodstained world, your fate lies beyond these prison walls. Answer me, Child."

"Those who's fates you will entwine with your own...what will you do when the time comes to untie them? When bonds become only a hindrance to your aspirations?"

“I’m not dying! I was napping!” Sayaka huffed, before looking around, “My forest isn't a prison. It doesn't even have walls. I think. There's a lot of those little grass-colored monsters around.”

"This world has need of strength...dare you to carry that burden on your shoulders, when you yourself have failed before you have even begun?"

"What is it that drives your Conviction, Singularity? How do you so fearlessly embark towards the end, knowing the destruction that may await you?"

“I will not. This world will carry me, in honor of the great deeds I've done. My shoulders shall rest upon theirs, so they can rub my belly,” Sayaka purred in delighted expectation. “Yes! The entire world will witness my rumble to the top of the sky, and see me ascend to Primal! The Queen of the Foxes, the new Inari Ōkami! To do so, I will have no fear!”

"Such fragility...yet you shall outlast even the most durable. Such weakness, yet you shall overthrow the undefeated. I will not deny the possibilities that lie within you. Awaken, Children of the Sky. Your hour is at hand."

Attn: @The Irish Tree & Anyone Interested

---

First Rumble: Trashing The Goblin Camp

Startled awake from the abrupt ending of her dream, Sayaka shifted in her napping curl, and stretched out. Above her, she heard the march of feet, tired grumbles in a foreign tongue, and she could smell the thick stench of blood. It was the grass-colored monsters that walked on two paws instead of four, and they were going back to their above ground den. Standing in her makeshift den, the cream-furred fox waited until they were far away enough that she could stalk behind them.

[Hrm.They look a lot weaker than usual. Did the big Dhirom give me the opportunity to ascend to my next stage of godliness? I'll surely grow my next tail, if I can beat them, this time.] Sayaka decided, before flattening herself against the ground, and streaking straight for a weary Goblin, and leaping off the earth; strangely serrated teeth catching green flesh and crimson muscle, and rent it all away with her momentum and gravity.

The Queen skidded before her opponents, and howled.

It was rumble time.

The goblin that Sayaka had caught yowled in pain, clutching at the missing hunk of flesh his arm once had while two of his comrades moved in to engage against the strange fox, one slicing downward with a machete in an attempt to lop her head off, while the other performed a similar attack, albeit with a simple club. Behind them, two archers readied arrows, pointed straight at Sayaka.

Sayaka swished her tail, and slung loose soil and grass into the air, before dashing at the archers. They weren't unfamiliar to her; she'd be a nuisance to their camp over the course of then last week, as they were loud and smelly and ate all the good birds and shrews in the area. It was just offensive how they paid the forest queen no tribute or even a small respect -- a darn bow would be pleasing.

Instead, however, they try to commit the most heinous crime of regicide. Simply inexcusable, she decided, as she zipped by legs and arms, and drove her claws into the throat of an archer, and leapt off him to sink her fangs into the throat of the other. [Oh, my Primal! That actually worked!] she squealed, as she did a happy prance by the exsanguinating Goblin. [I mean, of course it worked! I can do anything!]

Sayaka comprised herself, and face her opposition.

Suddenly, one of the goblins blew their horn, his companion charging forward with his shield raised, playing a bit more defensively after realizing how dangerous Sayaka was, he kept his shield covering his neck, while trying to circle around her to swing at the side of her head.

More would arrive if she didn’t silence that horn, but his ally was poised to strike should her attention fall away from him.

[Loud-maker! Finally, someone to announce my arrival!] Sayaka was elated, as she swished her tail against the ground, before kicking up, and pressing to the shield before her. It was as if a full-grown human had set upon him with all their might, as Sayaka impacted the shield-carrier, and bodily crushed him into the ground. [However, your tune offends my ears. It is one-note and bland. Not at a bit worthy of my regality!] she growled, unaware of her crushing act.

Kicking off the ground, she went straight for the hornblower.

Raising up his machete after finishing his horn blowing, the goblin horn master attempted to block her blow with his blade, while his ally recovered and chased after her once more. He wasn’t a match for her speed, but if his friend could stop her for just a moment, he could end this swiftly. At least, that was the plan.

It was a decent plan, save for one unpredictable thing: Sayaka suddenly coming to a full stop. Desperately, she attacked her ears with her hind legs; one after the other, in a bid to free herself of a sudden onset of itching. [Blasted insects! I am a queen! How dare you bite me without beseeching my consent with a long-winded monologue about the delightful taste of my blood and the honor it is to sup upon it! I hate you!] whined the fox, as she became a mass to trip over for the Goblin that had been chasing her.

And just like that, the charging goblin tripped over Sayaka, landing face first into his ally, with both of their helmets colliding against unprotected parts of the other goblins’ head, resulting in both of them just falling over, knocked out cold. She had...won. In a way. But more Goblins would be coming, unless she fled.

Sayaka sighed, as she ridded herself of the itching, and looked up. [Huh? Oh, I won! I won! I mean, of course, I did. I’m the best, and queen, and the best. Yawning, she stretched out, and looked to the north, as headed by the Goblins, and decided on her next course of action: she was going to trash their camp. Blasting off, she felt her footfalls stress the earth in a much more dominant fashion, her muscles tense and release, and something indescribable wash over her. Her fur shined bright, as if cast in moonlight, and then settled.

Racing towards the camp, she rushed up the makeshirt wall, and soared against the breeze; her body glowed gold, and the fox landed in a small crater of her creation. “Listen up, suckers! The Forest Queen has arrived! Time to pack your bag and bend over, because I’m about to kick your butts out of here!” she announced, as the sudden explosion of dust settled, standing tall and pointing. “Wait...” Sayaka looked at things carefully, and realized something. “I CAN TALK!”

The fact that she was suddenly humanoid -- Erune, by design -- and skyclad was just side notes to the overall.

To the Goblins, her being clothed and humanoid mattered little before roughly a dozen goblins charged, half a dozen more began firing arrows at her, and the goblin chieftain rose from his throne, far larger than even the hobgoblin elite guards that had surrounded him. Roughly fifty goblins in total were gunning for Sayaka’s throat, and as such, this was sure to be one hell of a rumble.

Sayaka grinned, as arrows whipped by her, and Goblin charged her. All inconsequential. All nothing. Just practice for learning her new stance, ranges, and speed; her punches and kicks stronger than before, doubly so; her claws longer and sharper; her fangs, the same.

Everyone that was sent her way didn’t matter in the slightest.

All that matters was the biggest and the best.

Standing atop a small pile, she yanked an arrow out of her shoulder, and pointed it at the chieftain, “Rumble time.”

And, it was on.

---

Collab with @The Irish Tree \ Attn: @Guess Who, @Suku, & @Awesomoman64

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

I'm just waiting to introduce my second character. Impatiently.

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

@Enkryption

:(

Good luck with your job though! Also, that's not lame!

------

May have to open the int. checks again.

@PaulHaynek

Thanks, man. And, good luck.

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

Regretfully, I have to drop out before I can start anything new. Honestly, I don't have to for another week or two; however, earlier is more professional than aburptly at the beginning of February. The restaurant I work at has our trio of yearly inspections and reviews prep starting, and I'm going to have to cut down fun until it all blows over. I do apologize, but management is pushing for us to make what they call, "AAA"; meaning we pass all three inspections with Grade of A.

I know that's lame, but, it's the honest truth, and my job. I looked at objectively at things, and I'm Co-GM to another RP, co-creator of another, so, sadly, this is one that's getting the cut, since I'm just a PC. Annalise hasn't done anything of note, so, her absence won't leave any holes in the plot, at the very least. Small blessings, I suppose.

Anyways, I ramble; hopefully, y'all can finish this out, while I'll return to lurking. Thanks for everything, though.

@PaulHaynek

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

Marshall largely ignored Amanita, as she spoke. He didn’t really think on the terms of what could have been, but, rather what was to be, and that was caring for the kitten that was savaging the fish. A chuckle escaped him, as she set her upon the table, and flipped off his shirt to bundle her up as a little kitten burrito; all but her shoulders and above exposed so she could eat, while being soaked in the linger warm of Marshall’s core, and the building warmth of her own self.

Due to the removal of his shirt, Marshall was reminded of a certain, overtly inquisitive Harvin; another pet of a beast, like himself. Funny, how she slipped into his thoughts; so insidious, like her serpentine master. “Selmia,” Marshall murmured, as drew her dagger, and admired it. “Astrals be damned, Primals be leashed,” he swore, “I am cursed with boundless greed and infinite obsession. If I want it, so shall I possess it, until it breaks or bores.” Marshall held the knife to the light, and his persona shifted; he called it, “Pleonexia,” the only word befitting its extremeness...

The sound of metal clinking against wood could be heard as Amanita and Oliver concluded their conversation, Amanita taking a seat in the room Cyll and Mushi were resting in. The harvin, rather than simply leaving, strode into the kitchen and with the lightest tap of his gauntlet covered finger, poked at Marshall’s back. ”Excuse me...have a moment for a few questions, sir?”

Marshall snarled, a moment’s lost of sanity, as he turnt the dagger against the Harvin, before his mind settled against the visage of the decidedly masculine figure before him; Selmia banished from his mind, for now. “Another round,” he says, shaking his head, “eh, Bart?” Marshall frowned, “No, no, think, focus...” Sheathing the dagger, Marshall tapped his head, and brought himself back. “Yes?”

”Not here, if you’re looking for a fight. I’ve been looking for clues about a cure to a certain…”illness” a friend of mine has. Primal artifacts, or primals themselves carry this sort of “feeling” thats really easy to sniff out when you get close enough, if you know what it feels like.” Oliver said, eyes focused on Marshall. ”That isn’t your arm, is it? Or rather...that thing’s stuck to your arm, isn’t it?” the short individual would ask, pointing at the gauntlet on Marshall’s arm.

“It’s far from stuck,” Marshall says, “It is my arm, has been for over 1,900 years. But, let’s press on...” he shifted, and looked over, “Illness, you say? I’m not doctor, but, unfortunately, I’ve been a guinea pig for too many, too much, too often for my liking. Immortality is too attractive for the twisted of thought.” Marshall scratched at Harliqueen’s ears, “So, what are you asking for? Blood? Flesh? Bone?”

”No need for any of that. I just need words.” Oliver said as he pulled up a chair, struggling for a moment to actually pull himself up onto it, before he sat across from Marshall. ”Namely, the ones that could tell me the Primal Beast that gave you that arm.” he said, while the small cat in Marshall’s arms shifted around within the blanket burrito that enshrouded it, trying to stretch its legs a little.

“Gave? You think too highly on that one,” Marshall says, loosing Harliqueen’s wrapping. “This is a punishment for my hubris. I stole this; one of seven pieces I intend to fully possess.” Flexing his right fingers, the old thief chuckled, “If you want to talk to the old hag, I could ask her. If she’s kind enough to deign to answer.”

Oliver hummed, netting his armored fingers together. ”Hrm...I can’t really trust the words of a Primal Beast. Not like they’d sell out one of their own. Even if she did know, whoever this ‘hag’ is doesn’t seem to like you much. I can tell. Your ether is...sickly, to say the least. I can smell that underneath, your ether is the same as mine, but its like its being violently pushed back,” he would say, before tilting his head to the right ”So, why are you here? Looking for one of those other seven pieces? Or just here to adopt kittens?”

“Six left,” Marshall corrects. “I couldn’t care less how the Lady of Virtue feels of me; just that she upholds her end of the bargain,” he says. “In any case, I escaped an undesired situation, crashed here, after taking a stowaway’s nap, rescued that child doctor, and, now, I’m here, immortal, and yet under her medical care.” Marshall sighed, “This cutie-pie is just a little bonus in my drab life of fan-splayed shit salad.”

”Language. There are kids in the next room.” Oliver said, with a completely serious tone, before his expression lightened up a bit. Relaxing his posture, Oliver asked: ”So, you stowed away, huh? Funny...we just got telegrammed a report. A prisoner ship went down over the area between here and Ziggurat; Seemed like pirates from the report. That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with you, would it?”

“I’m a thief, not a pirate,” Marshall says, simply. “I couldn’t be bothered to be involved in piracy, unless my goal is involved,” he says, “As such,. I cannot say I would be involved. Maybe, my ship was a pirate ship, but, unfortunately for them, I was not such. If I was, they would have lived. Maybe.” Marshall grinned, a twisted half-grin, “If I was, though, what would that mean for me?”

“Ah, it’d be a bit out of my jurisdiction, since this is Zweite territory, but…” Oliver would say, before for just the briefest of moments, Marshall would feel a sense of dread simply looking at the Harvin. ”I’d probably have to drag you back to Geste for a trial. he said, before snickering, then full out laughing. ”You’re no pirate, clear as day. Thievery’s a crime, but seeing as this is Zweite territory, I imagine its not from anything less than their coffers. Oliver said, back to his cheery self.

“So we’ll leave it at that,” Marshall smiled back. “For the best.” Looking up, Marshall hummed, “Good to know where I am, though. Zweite...” his eyes closed, clearly looking at a map in his head. “There’s a village near, and an port to the northwest of it, going to it from this direction,” he says, opening his eyes, “There’s where I need to go.”

”Sorry to say, any public airships aren’t able to leave right now. So unless you can get a private ship on an island that doesn’t sell them, you’re stuck here for a while.” Oliver explained. He had a point, that is, if one actually had the intention of booking a flight through a public channel. Marshall would know from experience that some islands had underground smugglers that could ferry passengers, but for a high cost given the secrecy of the business dealt.

“I’ll just stowaway,” Marshall shrugged. “A corpse get flown fairly far, for free,” he says. “Unless things have changed.”

”Oh, they haven’t, unless you’re planning to go all the way down to the bottom of the sky when they catch you.” Oliver joked, with just a hint of seriousness in his tone. ”This talk has been...informative, in its own way. I appreciate you giving me your time, Marshall.” he would say, leaving Marshall to wonder...at what point did he learn that name that was not given to him? Oliver hadn’t asked, nor had he given his own name, yet in the end walked away with Marshall’s.

Marshall narrowed his eyes. ‘I didn’t pass my name. Not to the best of my knowledge. Amanita, perhaps? No... Maybe...’ he looked up. ‘... did he overhear it, or just...’ Standing, Marshall decided to follow Oliver, and ask.

Oliver would simply keep walking, passing by Amanita, Cyll, and Mushi before stopping in the doorway. ”Did you have a question for me, Marshall?” Oliver would ask, looking up at the human he’d just finished his conversation with.

“How did you know my name,” Marshall asks.

Oliver would tilt his head a moment, before scratching the back of his head. ”I really let that slip, huh? Oh well. Its not important.” Oliver would say dismissively, before opening Amanita’s door to leave.

Marshall’s expression turned rather grim, but didn’t chase. He knew too much, too many... he didn’t... want to hurt again. If Oliver belonged to his past, the Harvin would show up again. They always did...

Stopping on one foot, Oliver looked back at Marshall, before saying: ”Ah, I forgot...its rude for me to leave out the introduction. My name is Oliver Vimmins.” as he looked back at Marshall, he could feel something sinister, from that name he knew. ”And if I ever see you again, Marshall...it may not be on pleasant terms.”

Marshall’s armor bulked up, and he nearly crushed the atmosphere with his sheer anger. “No...” he says, “I doubt it shall be. Such an uncommon surname. Unknown for many, many years.” Marshall inhaled, and exhaled, “Explains things...” he turned. “Try to avoid me, descendant.”

Oliver looked over his shoulder at Marshall, at that armor, and for the briefest of moments, he fully considered killing Marshall where he stood, the ebony blade housed in his sheath revealing itself; And then, all at once, Marshall would feel the impact of not steel against flesh, but of memory against mind. That same exact sword...that had belonged to Bartholomew. ”I will, for a time. But should you show yourself to me again, not even immortality will be enough to keep me from avenging my grandfather.” he would say, clear and loud enough for those inside to hear before he walked off.

Marshall gritted his teeth. ‘Don’t. Don’t. Leave it. It was a gift. Don’t! Don’t! It was a gift! You made it! You gave it! Leave it!’ Marshall screamed at himself. ‘Just... leave it...’ Marshall inhaled deeply, then sighed, equally so. “At least... it’s not lost...” he says, with a sad smile, “Barty would be happy to know, I didn’t lose it, after all.”

Amanita heard what Oliver had said, as well as Marshall’s sighs, rushing over to ask: ”U-Um..is everything okay, Mr. Marshall?” she would ask, wishing she could help in some way but...Oliver sounded less than pleased after that, and Marshall looked like he was in agony.

"Die young, kids, so you don’t make irreparable mistakes,” Marshall sighed, as he flopped onto the couch.

---

Collab with @The Irish Tree / Attn: @Ammokkx & @The 42nd Gecko

Fate/Prisma Connections (the reboot!)

Blood, Guilt, and Love; Part I (Collaboration between Enkryption, Suku, and Guess Who; Involving: Aoi and Kuremi)

Okita walked down the hallway drawing on Kuremi’s own memories to guide her to the right spot in the labyrinth that was the school. A hand on the wall for guidance while another was gripped tightly on her sword Okita walked her eyes darting back and forth for potential trouble.

While her classmate’s servant was cautious and careful, ready to defend herself against whatever danger may present itself, Longinus was speeding through the halls, his master’s feet skidding to a halt outside the office. Not wanting to waste any time, the spearman knocked down the door with a strong kick, turning it into splinters. With access to everything he needed for temporary treatment, he would begin the process of removing the remnants of Hana’s blade.

Usually a person was not supposed to remove any sharp object that may enter their eye, but what they are meant to do is create an eye shield to protect it and he couldn’t do that with the tip of a sword protruding out. Besides, she wouldn’t likely be able to see again with this orb. Holding the eye in place with one hand and using the other to hold the sharp intruder, Longinus began to slowly and carefully pull it out. It was at this moment he would receive a guest.

Okita continued her pace if memory was to be believed the Nurses office should be coming up shortly. Cursing her luck Okita gripped her sword tighter feeling the presence of another close by knowing not if they were friend or foe. Carefully Okita edged her way towards the other person sword drawn in a more defensive stance before calling out simply “Friend or foe?”

As soon as he felt the approaching presence of Okita, Longinus released his master’s bleeding eye and reached out toward his spear. When he saw her enter the room though, two things stood out to him immediately. One, the hand she still held to her wound. Two, she wasn’t made of stone. Of course this could mean that she was leading them and some other servant and master had been the one to deal the blow, but even if that were the case he didn’t have the strength to fight back at the moment.

“Merely a wounded soldier, much like yourself,” Longinus said, his master still recovering from the trauma and idling in the back of her own mind. Releasing his weapon, the servant grabbed the eye again and yanked out the last of the blade. Before it even had time to clatter onto the tile floor, the Lancer began to wrap gauze around Aoi’s head to cover her injury.

Okita lowered her sword as she started to search for the items needed to tend her wound. Normally she would have wrapped it up in silk but that was far and inbetween in this case so she made due with what she could find. Borrowing knowledge from Kuremi on things like the antiseptic medicine among others before tightly bandaging her side with expert precision and care. Okita lowered her sword as she started to search for the items needed to tend her wound. Normally she would have wrapped it up in silk but that was far and inbetween in this case so she made due with what she could find. Borrowing knowledge from Kuremi on things like the antiseptic medicine among others before tightly bandaging her side with expert precision and care.

While he trusted the newcomer enough to not point his weapon towards her, Longinus would be sure to keep his only eye on Okita as she banaged herself up as well. He was at a major disadvantage if she ended up being hostile, but it was better that she not think of him as a threat than to attempt a pathetic display of defense in his weakened state. As he watched for any sudden movements though, his master began to reawaken. “Ku-Kuremi?” Aoi asked, her voice sounding noticeably more like her usual tone and air. “You too huh?” Not even she was sure if she was referring to being injured or being possessed by a figure of humanity’s past.

“I am sorry but she isn’t able to speak at the moment due to a incident earlier” Okita spoke honestly. Which was true Kuremi was still catatonic almost allowing Okita to puppet her body her mind still reeling from before as she continued to doubt herself among other things. Though one could see a glimmer of recognition in her eyes showing even faintly that she was there just not fully herself just yet. “She encountered someone close and the results shook her mind to the point of being catatonic.” Okita continued truthfully Kuremi seemed to trust her so she will extend the same trust though with clear signs of hesitance.

Aoi nodded in reply at first, staying silent for several seconds as if it were all she had to contribute. When her mouth did open though, the words sounded serious and deep. Longinus had regained control. “Such an event is not foreign to us. The eye was due to a fight with my master’s sibling,” he said, pointing to the now covered injury. “I don’t suppose you have found any clue as to who has caused these innocent people to turn to stone.”

“It is the will of Mahatma, of course.”

The interruptive voice came from nowhere and everywhere; bouncing around the room, as if multiple people were speaking, at once, and yet, only bore a singular voice.

“Mahatma will take you, too.”

“Mahatma is a benevolent existence.”

“Fold in with me, with us, with all.”

“Become one with the Hierarchy.”

Okita tensed As she hastily tied of the bandages and gripped her sword tightly looking for the sound of the voices. The idea of voice projection or that wasn’t unheard of all things considered knowing a few others who did such things. “Show your face!” She exclaimed as she fingered the sword anxiously awaiting for a fight that may come.

Aoi’s head also moved to find the source of the voice, or perhaps voices. Longinus, still in control of the girl’s words, replied back, “Whoever it is you follow, I refuse to follow suit. There is only one that I praise and I refuse to turn my back on him again. Take your higher power to another.” His master’s body ached as the Lancer forced her to stand back up on her feet, gripping both hands on his spear. If this entity didn’t appreciate his truthful refusal, he was prepared to pay for his loyalty.

“You follow. We follow. All follow. Mahatma is all, and the Hierarchy is all...” There was a thoughtful pause, which evolved into a pregnant pause, and then downgraded into an uncomfortable pause. “That sounds silly as a pitch, doesn't it? But, how does one pitch a collective hive mind? I don't know.”

There was a rattle of curtain, and the corner set privacy bed slid open. Prim and proper, legs crossed at her knees, left over right, and arms crossed beneath her bust, sat the school nurse; a woman in her early-fifties attired as if in her early-twenties. Hair tressed up, faded blonde littered with streaks of violet, fell over her shoulders, and framed her face; bringing attention to her face, and, especially, her lips.

Which didn't move, as she tutted, “You're both so hurt. How sad. Mahatma will welcome you, pitiable and all. However, you will be better received in healthier states.”

“Heal then.”

“Mend them.”

“Fold them.”

His eye looked over the new servant, focusing most on attempting to find any weapons she might have on her person. The fact that he didn’t find any yet worried him more than if she had had one. “Perhaps if it sounds silly, then you shouldn’t bother,” Longinus replied. Despite how aggressive his words were, it meant to be taken as a joke. Somewhat. It was the closest to one that anyone in the room would ever hear from him. Despite his, by his standards, friendly attitude, the roman soldier trusted the nurse about as far as Aoi could throw the Spear of Destiny without installing his power. He refused to lower his weapon just yet.

“I serve only one and you are not him” Okita said coldly refusing the offer outright. She has sworn her blade to the emperor and as such to the nation. Any offer would be met with disdain and refusal. Her status as a servant was no different in this case her master was more of a potential student. Her blade was still sheathed but it was clear she was eager to draw it and only held back out of consideration for not attacking when the person had the chance. “A shinsengumi obeys the emperor to act as peacekeepers for the nation. We act as a blade and not blindly follow remember that.” She stated softly more for Kuremi’s sake than anyone else.

“Children are so full of foolish idealism.”

“No.. ideology?”

“Of course not. Ideas, foolish ones.”

“Hrm... Can we bribe them,” the nurse wondered, tilting her head, as if to frown; her face a seemingly permanent smile. “Candy? Cake? Cards?” she mused, “Mahatma should be enough.”

Eyes closed, smile on, the nurse looked at Aoi's and Kuremi's shells... peering straight into Longinis and Okita. “Such convictions. How pious. How devot. Mahatma will cherish you.”

“Cherish.”

“Cherish.”

“Cherish.”

Uh, she’s really starting to freak me out. More and more, Aoi was beginning to make her return within her own head, her thoughts becoming just as prevalent as Longinus’.

Yes, child, this woman is most assuredly mad. This will make predicting her next actions much more difficult. If you still wish to be in contr-

No, for now I leave it to you. Just… I’d rather you not try killing her if you do get into a fight.

Longinus nodded, looked back up to the school nurse, and explained. In a battle between servants, such a thing is almost unavoidable. However you can rest assured that I’ll avoid lethal force as long as I can. I enjoy death and slaughter as much as you.

“A person who may seem crazy can only appear to be so who is to say said person didn’t achieve enlightenment?” Okita asked outloud mainly to herself as she looked at the woman in front of her. Kuremi was starting to gain her footing willing to trust Okita in her decisions for this situation as Okita let a smile graced her face should the need arrive she would strike without doubt and with lethality should it be required. It was clear that action was needed but what was the right choice seemed to weigh heavily on her. As she quietly tried to judge the situation to see what approach was best.

The nurse stood, followed by the sounds of stone; fractures grinding against each other, as multiple terracotta soldiers started to stand. Unlike the normal ones, they were not completely shelled; they were, unless, littered with cracks and breaks, with sections of their bodies exposed to the elements... flesh, bloodily, branded with an unintelligible symbol -- unless you were a ninth-level intelligence, with serious connections.

“Let me heal you,” the nurse offered, extending her hands. “I can be your prophet and your emperor, yours to call savior and yours to be servitor,” she says, eyes never opening, mouth never moving, and yet her gaze and words were clearly upon them. “Just come to me, and be free of this suffering and pain, like them.”

“No pain.”

“No suffering.”

“Free.”

“Free.”

“Free.”

The chanting rose, as the terracotta soldiers rose off the floor; showing they'd been under the beds, behind them, and lying out of sight in the changing room. Bodies in simple, perfect service to Mahatma's Avatar, Helena Blavatsky.

“My blade is sworn to defend, to protect, to be in service to the Emperor he who is descended from Amaterasu. I will not allow this to continue!“My blade is sworn to defend, to protect, to be in service to the Emperor he who is descended from Amaterasu. I will not allow this to continue! Okita shouted as she unsheated her blade ready to fight despite her injury should she fall she would do so fighting like a true shinsengumi! Blade at the ready she leveled at her turning it sideways as she waited for the first move to be struck. People will fall who was unknown but she would do her best to make sure that she took down as many as she could! “Okita Souji Captain of the Shinsengumi have at you!” She yelled her blade ready to cut the terracotta beings down.

While the swordswoman prepared to fight the surrounding mobs that now followed Blavatsky, Longinus lept into action to cut off the head of this proverbial hydra. This was partly because taking out a force’s leadership was the most effective way to bring a quick end to a fight, but also because this woman’s feeble attempts at trying to sway his allegiance had pissed him off. With the Spear of Destiny pointed straight at center mass, Lancer charged forward.

Ever-smiling, the school nurse stepped to the side, and allowed the charge to harmlessly pass her by -- straight towards the core of one of her dutiful followers. Sighing, she tilted her head, as her followers slammed hands of flesh and blood, stone and mana, down down the tip-end of Okita’s blade, and held it steadily; not attempting to arrest control of it, but kept her still. Longinus’s spear was in the same straits, as the devout attempted to impale themselves upon the haft, and keep it immobile.

“Sad, sad children, don’t you see? You make them hurt themselves. I freed them of their pain, and you wish them to be hurt again, by resisting His Wisdom,” she cooed, her smile only more alien and her eyes still shut, “Just a single caress, and you, too, are free. Free, forever.” The nurse extended her hands, palms cut open by her own Noble Phantasm; the symbol, His stigmata, blazing beneath her willingly shed blood. “It won’t hurt, now, nor ever again...”

“Be free.”

“Become.”

“Heed His Call, His Wisdom,” the nurse grinned even more frighteningly. “All Belonging For One.”

Before The Firing Line (Involving: Lia, Jin, and Dorian)

In spite of the grand display of power that Jin set forth, it did nothing to deter the small line of three summoned spearmen and two spearwomen that were called forward by their appointed General; stone-faced, stone-armored soldiers ready to defend, advance, and overcome the obstacle set before them. They’d no sense of fear for the incoming assault, and took it with all their might.

...and shattered.

Jin’s fearsome impact, and the brutal might of Tamashi, overcame the overwhelming might of their numbers with sheer strength. In an instant, the violent spinning sweep crushed the terracotta armor, sliced through the flesh underneath, and cleaved through the body. Jin’s unstoppable attack ended where Morimoto stood -- her weapon having blowing a hole through his chest, as if struck true by a cannonball.

Morimoto didn’t flinch, as his biological functions, and the lack thereof, caught up with him, and his spear dropped to the ground. Emotionlessly, he shrunk back, and felt to his knees. It was clear, the terracotta was struggling to move his corpse, as it twitched his arms and legs, but, the lack of spine didn’t allow the motions to connect. Like those behind her, Morimoto joined the five corpses that Jin had left.

Like insects, the terracotta soldiers twitched in their death throes, before stilling as hearts ceased pumping to intestines and organs spilled out onto the ground.

“How sad. How sad.”

“Collect. Fold.”

“Give. Save.”

Suddenly, arms wrapped around Lia; some flesh; some stone; some bleeding; all strong and digging in. Behind her, trio of terracotta soldiers were attempting to drag her down, and break through the manifestation of her Servant's defensive Spiritrons -- all the while, bearing down on her with closed eyes and Glasgow Smiles. They sought the same of Dorian, in spite of his shield and show; his power little more than an invitation to try harder, heal better, and save him from suffering.

“Piece together.”

“Place together.”

“Heal together.”

From the stony grove tree, more terracotta soldier dolls came out, and started to push together the bodies of Jin's reckless massacre; carving symbols into their flesh. In moment, cleaved corpses twitched, and struggled to raise. The damage was severe, but they had a renewed faith...

Behind Jin, they sloppily rose, and started on her on hand and knee.

“Angry.”

“Sad.”

“Be free.”

An Emerald Leaf Upon A Dragon’s Heart (Involving: Noboru and Maggie)

[Don’t let him go!]

Maggie’s hands launched out, and captured Noboru’s closed hand in both; bring it, and him, close to her face. “I’m safest with you, Anchin,” she mewled, no, growled, really. Her form reeked of mythical strength; Herne could determine, it was dragon from his own nature of knowing nature, and Noboru could take a wild guess, based off the large horns that screamed, ‘Hey, I’m a dragon,’ growing from Maggie’s head.

For a moment, Noboru could take a sense of irony from the hair that they sprouted from; the emerald tresses retained no traces of the crimson he’d knew earlier, as if, her hair was the green light on her life, and she had no intention of relighting the red light. Equally, so, it seemed she’d no intention of fighting him -- if anything, she seemed determined to possess and cherish him.

Purely the opposite of a standard Berserker.

However, that didn’t remove the fact that she was, and anything could undo the eerily sincere disposition that she conducted herself with. Arresting his movement, taking control of his action, and directing the flow of intention; Maggie did all this with brute strength alone. Her unknown Servant had born the flame that knocked down all the soldiers that had posed him threat, and pinned them to the floor with their own form. Herne’s connection to the forest had told Noboru they were in less than dire straits, but they weren’t dead.

Berserker never fought with restrain, and yet Maggie had. Why? To impress him? No, to impress Anchin? Whatever the reason, he could think about it long, as she dragged him towards the roof. “Steady, Anchin! We’re going to be free together!” Maggie cheered, as she bodied opened the securely locked down like it was rice paper, “Just one leap of faith!”

Unfortunately, faith was, decidedly twisted, and not on their side, as the roof was occupied by terracotta soldiers in the middle of a one-sided melee, as several were digging into the others with twisted expressions of unending glee; by knifepoint, swordpoint, and arrowhead, they shattered the expressionless soldiers, and brutally carved their skin, until the stone fractured upon their faces, and they joined the ranks unknown.

“There's more.”

“More.”

“Join in.”

“Be free.”

The school was slowly becoming a deathtrap.

The Divine Shield Charges In (Involving: Roselynn, Nathan, and Rebecca)

Excitement poured off his body, as Nathan thrust himself into the fray; battering to either side soldier after soldier with his divine shield. Casually, Roselynn followed with her water gun; firing bullets of Od into their shells, and giving them a simple suggestion to follow, “Kindly get some rest, now,” which locked them into place, despite their original command -- such was the power of Origin-derived Magic. “Mother, seems she’s cross,” Nathan called, passing by Rebecca; her unthreatening form attracted his attention, but didn’t sway his mission.

Roselynn swiped open her phone, and opened a program. Into Rebecca’s indignant face, the marvel of smartphones was thrust, and the camera was scanning her up and down. “Saber. Servant Identity: Uncatalogued. Historical Regional Data: France. Not a lot of French Servants running around,” she says, reading over a digital feed, “Catalogue only reads back Marie Antoinette, Marquis de LaFayette, Jeanne d’Arc, and Gilles De Rais. A depressingly short list, I must say,” she looked down, “No Include. Spiritrons are inactive. Values are too low for a Manifest. Potential, sure, but, I don’t see her Installing.”

Suddenly, Roselynn’s phone started to ring, as a flood of texts poured in; values, percentages, warnings, and the like. “Nathan, don't hold back on anyone in terracotta,” she says, “Blavatsky escaped.” Nathan glowered from beneath his helm, “That woman is free? Her Class Card was under stasis. Arrested Spiritrons can't just go free.”

Roselynn frowned, as she dialed. “Maelstrom,” she says, before hanging up. “Blavatsky takes priority. Her Noble Phantasm is spread by physical contact, so don't let her touch you, Nathan. Break her hands, and render her unconscious. Go,” Roselynn ordered. “Understood. Stay safe, mother,” Nathan stated, before running off. “Lead me, Gods, to she that perverts free will with honeysuckle lies and blind devotion! She shall stand not before Rho Aias!”

“I don’t know you, you don’t know me, so let’s forgo the cliches, and just follow me, if you want to live, seriously,” Roselynn says. “I’m Roselynn Evercale, Caster, Task Director of Ratatoskr, and quite possibly, the last face you’ll ever see. Nice to meet you, Saber. Your name?”

To Quell Dissent, An Emperor Acts (Involving: Kozo)

[In one hand, an emperor must hold kindness, yet the other must hold cruelness. Between them, the mind must hold sureness.] Kozo shifted in his seat, eyes shut in concentration, as he oversaw his growing empire. [Do not falter here, Kozo. There is much work to do. There is dissention among the peasantry, shall you stand for it or venture forth and silence it?] Eyes opening, Kozo stood, and went to his window; once again, admiring what he'd created with his hands, ambition, and the benefaction of his card-bound Deity. “To swiftly quell dissent, an emperor must act in accord,” he says, drawing his Noble Phantasm; a simple knife with a great power. “I will see this done with my hands, as I always have.”

- - -

Settling his helmet, Kozo sat astride a stone steed. Like his soldiers, it was something reformed by his Noble Phantasm, as its power grew. In this instance, it was the car he rode to work in; a test of conceptualization -- could a concept like “horsepower” give birth to its root word, as “worker” had born him soldiers? Satisfactorily, it had. It gave him infinitesimal possibilities, and he had to do was take a stab at it, so to speak.

“Fudomine Academy,” Kozo says, reading off a scroll-bound report. “School, I could not think of a more proper place for a headache.” Stashing the scroll away, he turned his horse, and the beast reared in natural readiness. “Follow,” he ordered without ceremony, as he whipped the reigns against the horse. Expressionless, wordlessly, the amassed soldiers followed him.

As if the thunderous herald of a hurricane, they rode like the wind for Fudomine.

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

<Snipped quote by Enkryption>

I'd say this is more accurate given my experiences with it.

@Ammokkx

Granblue Fantasy: Rhapsody in Red

@The Irish Tree

I know the feeling... GM'ing is an up and down experience.