By the time the Boys and Muu returned, Katya was snickering to herself quietly at basically everything. Her eyes were sharp enough to note the smear of blood from Oscar's nose, as well as how Muu carried Renauld so romantically towards the campsite that the ice mage was literally at a loss for words. Argen stalked behind them as well, dour as ever. Oh, was the warrior man jealous? Kyaaa so cute! Back when she was at the Church, the older Sisters told her all about the scandalous relationships that popped up between men and men, men and women, and women and women in those Silver Moon soldier parties, and now that it was happening right before her, Katya couldn't say that she was disappointed at all. Giving herself a pat on the back, she did her best to repress her desire to interrogate Muu for all the juicy details, and instead opted to simply watch as the two new lovers had their cutesy moments together, cuddling by the firepit.
The night passed like that, peaceful and quiet. Nothing in the woods stirred, nothing in the night stalked. They slept, sheltered from the winds by the great pine trees around them, and the monkey butt that they ate gave their bodies extra fuel for keeping warm in the night. One more day, and then they'd be back in civilization. One more day...
The dead of night, the fire behind her crackling slowly, warming her from behind. She exhaled, watching the plume of white coming out from her helm. The spring didn't really do much of anything for her curse, but it did leave her feeling cleaner, warmer and much better than she did when she started.
More relaxed, and in a better mood, especially after that meal.
Fishing around in her backpack, she pulled out the bottle she brought along, an alcoholic drink she'd never thought she'd even drink. It tasted loud, rough and brash, not something her refined palate would have liked before, with a burning after taste that would have lead to her nose falling off. After all, such a rough rugged distillate was more fit for the peasants than someone like her.
Yet, she drank it, her current body favouring, desiring such things. Perhaps it was not so bad. Perhaps she had judged these drinks too harshly in her efforts to cling to her values. The infallible knight, the warrior encased in steel riding against evil, a shining pillar that was good, both in looks and morals. And here she was, using armor of composite pieces, battered, tarnished, with looks that would send childrens screaming and make their nannies drop dead of fright. Her hands was what affected her the most; she used to have slender hands, that looked delicate and dainty, even after she took up the sword. Now they're brutish paws that seemed like it could crush a human head. No, she was certain she can do so with relative ease.
"Ah."
Perhaps she should have started drinking while soaking in the hot springs. It was an idea that popped suddenly into her mind, one that seemed very enticing considering how comfortable she found the spring water to be, even if it didn't cure anything. She looked behind her, contemplating her decision. After all, no one should be awake unless it was time for their watch, and hers was yet to near its end.
The red child was already in there, looking like she was about to melt from bliss. The child didn't really exist, Ettamri knew that, but still, the sight of her being so comfortable ultimately lead her to stripping off, and going in for another dip. First the outer layers of her armor, then the inner, then the swathes of cloth she used to bind herself with to hide her skin like she was some diseased leper.
After a full meal, and now soaking in the hot water drinking from the bottle, it was hard not to feel relaxed. The weight of her mask, literally and metaphorically, lifted from her for this short while.
"Hoh." Tithemal's voice sounded within the spring, the Dragonscar champion still lounging comfortably in the near-boiling waters that he had situated himself in. He cast a crimson gaze upon Ettamri, before sniffing deeply again. "Was wondering why your scent had changed since we've last met, warrior."
She nearly choked on her drink, coughing as she finally noticed the champion still in the spring.
"Apologies. I did not realize you were still here." Ettamri spoke as she finally composed herself. Realizing that she wasn't wearing anything, she sank slightly deeper. "You... do not seem to be repulsed by my form."
Tithemal bared his fangs, his lower jaw jutting out to emphasize the girth of his canines. "Have I reason to?"
"I..." She looked to her own arms, muscle straining beneath crimson skin as she flexed them. "Perhaps not."
A few more moments of silence before Ettamri held out her bottle. "Do you drink?"
"So long as there's occasion to." Tithemal took the bottle, raising it up above to inspect the cloudy contents. "What's the occasion?"
"Being alive for another day." She said absentmindly, already feeling the spring water putting her in a deeply relaxed mood. Odd considering there was an orc champion right here, one that could very well slaughter her entire party without a thought. "How did you get to be so strong anyways?"
"Didn't imagine your kind to all be such drunkards." The lithe orc flashed his teeth, before taking a swig. His eyes rolled upwards, before the grimace showed. "Or such poor brewers." A hand reached into his own bundle to pull out a bamboo flask corked by a wooden peg. He set it on the waters and pushed it over, the bottle bobbing over to Ettamri.
"As for my strength though... Tis the blessing of the Heart-Drake, and the culmination of every day I've lived. Is that not how all creatures upon the dirt grow?"
She gave a small laugh at the first comment. "Apologies, but did you mean humans, or..." Ettamri stopped for a moment, wondering what it was she had actually turned into. "..or whatever it is I am?"
"No, not all creatures do. Some remain weak until the day they died, living short empty lives."
Grabbing the bottle, she uncorked it, smelling it first, before taking a sip of its content.
"Meaningless lives full of struggles to better themselves, yet never gaining a single inch of improvement."
"If you live amongst humans and fight along side them, I'd figure you'd want to be them too," Tithemal replied, resting his head against the stone. Neck stretched out like that, the scar that ran right underneath his Adam's apple was more pronounced than it otherwise could be, an angry red against green skin. "And the struggle, the struggle itself has meaning, doesn't it? Better to bleed for your ambition than to languish in stagnation. Twas the blessing of the Unliving King, even, to offer a chance for your kind to redeem themselves after death."
A pause, and Tithemal barked out, high-pitched. "These waters will make bards out of us, mark my words."
The drink went down smoothly, a fire that didn't actually try to tear through her stomach. It was undoubtedly a good drink, yet somehow... somehow she liked it better when her drinks went down fighting and clawing. Meaning through struggle was it?
"My kind? Did you mean me, or humans?" A small smile at the words. "I do not know of being bards, but that was certainly a good brew."
She corked it again, floating it on the water back to him.
"What else could I mean but humans?" Tithemal shrugged, taking his bottle back. "There can be no other culture for you to emulate, when you're naught but the remnant of a lost civilization."
"Remnants of..." She pondered that for a moment, before realizing what it could mean. "Then... do you know of that civilization? And where I can go to learn more?"
The red child grinned slyly to herself, as Ettamri realized the implications of what she said, and that she had stood up in the spur of the moment. "Ah, forgive me, it would seem the drink had affected me more than I thought."
Tithemal arced a brow, and then his lower canines jutted out once more. "So shall I answer that question or yours, or..."
"Yes please." She did not submerge herself in the bath again however, sitting by the side this time. "I wish to understand."
The orc settled into a more comfortable position, uncorking the warmed bottle to sip at it himself. His flesh glowed for a moment, before he let out a long groan, his chest caving in slightly. "I'm surprised, truly, that you'd even call it a civilization to begin with," Tithemal began, "when the stories the shamans divined from the stars and the wind spoke naught of treachery and deception. The Oni of Rosha's Gate are kin to my kind, their progenitors born from the scraped-off scales of the Heart-Drake when it burrowed into the depths of this world. My brethren were the shimmering green of its chest. Theirs were the blue and red of its limbs. We fell and propagated different parts of the world, and yet, the stars told us that our kind was not alone."
He poured himself another drink with a small cup, lifting it upwards to capture the twin moons peeking through the rising steam. "They were blessed with a fertile land that provided for what they needed, as well as the warrior spirit that drove them to vanquish the fouler beasts that crawled out the depths of their island. Disaster struck often, of course, when the mountains broke and the Red Mud frothed, but that was life; it came with death. My elders spoke that they sacrileged the blessings of the Heart-Drake by worshipping instead the land that sustained them, but, well, that formed the basis of their festivals and music, their dances and their spirit arts."
Tithemal inspected his fingernails, breathing on the tips.
"After one hundred cycles though, I doubt anything exists of them but hearsay and legends, all impossible to verify."
Ettamri listened attentively. Her family told of their kind, but their stories were mostly of her ancestor, who bested them long ago and claimed an island for himself.
"Rosha's Gate? Where would this gate be located?"
"The Dragonscar tribe does not make it a habit of venturing beyond our lands to claim the birthrights of others. I suppose you'd have a better understanding of where it is."
"I do?" She looks taken aback by that statement. Was it really that place that her ancestor conquered? For her to reach understanding, and perhaps a way to end the curse, she would have to go back. Or perhaps write another missive asking for her family to search in place of her. A lead, after the spring proved to be a dud.
Standing up, Ettamri started to dress herself again, after making sure to dry herself. "That was enlightening, sir. Thank you for indulging in my questions. Perhaps one day we shall clash again."
A small smirk on the red child's face, as Ettamri put on her gauntlets. "Unless, you're willing to do it now."
"Strong words for someone who couldn't take my head with a whole army behind her." Tithemal bared his teeth, pleasant birth surfacing as he sank into the waters again. "Send that holy knight my regards though, if he still breathes. Compliments from one Champion to another."
A pause. The lithe orc turned his gaze up towards the moon that peeked through the steam.
"Good night, human."
By the time the sky turned blue again, everyone was awoken by the miserable cold. Their blankets had frozen stiff in the night, the snow that had been melted by the fire refreezing once the embers had waned. Anything that was exposed to the chilly air felt stiff and raw, and no matter how much one wormed and huddled themselves inside their blankets, it still felt as if their feet were going to fall off from the cold. Gods above, if only they had a fire mage. The pine trees that shielded them from the winds had now shaded them from the warmth of the rising sun as well, and once again, that blindingly white light, reflected off the snow, made it nigh impossible for anyone to snatch any more hours of sleep.
Siwon, his yellow demon berating him all the while, had gotten up first through sheer willpower (or fear of shirking his obligations towards the Jaws of Death?) alone, and was already mummified before the weak fire, doing what he could to cope with the weather. The skies above were clear again, another beautiful day on the frontier of human civilization, but that just meant more squinting and eye strain, really. Katya, in spite of the freezing temperatures, crawled out of her own blankets half-asleep still. Partway through her pleasant dream of watching the rest of her party having a romantic comedy, her dreams turned into a nightmare of constant cold water ablutions, and she woke up, heavily disappointed that the happier parts of her dream ended before she could see Argen and Oscar kiss.
With her fingers, the little priest did her best to comb the knots out of her frozen hair, as she huddled by the fire as well, too irritated to actually stoke it. Who was in charge of finding firewood last night? Not her, that's who. There was hardly enough now. Maybe she should just go skip off and take another hot springs bath instead...
Albrecht scratched the back of his head. "Where I lived, it was predominantly human. Crow people though...fascinating!"
As he spoke, he popped his own pack off his shoulder, retrieving his trusty hammer. Limbering up with a couple shoulder rolls, Albrecht soon got to work, setting stakes down to secure the tents. As he did so, he asked, "By the by, Rain, is the carnival gonna be heading to Instella too?"
"Eh, wasn't expecting ya to. Far East's far, after all."
Despite what Triss said though, the pallum was still a bit sad that Momi wasn't famous enough to have a worldwide reputationg yet. There was a certain amount of admiration he had for the dwarf martial artist, after all, born from being under her tutelage for almost a whole decade. It wasn't a problem though. He'd just have to spread her own name alongside his as he became famous in Orario! Turning at the arrival of Athena, Triss nodded along, not so bothered by the loud knocking as the rest of them. His own introduction to the familia's house had featured following in after an excited mob tackled their way through the door...though his ears did perk up at the mention of 'a big 'un'. Orario had giants too? Wild place indeed. Sounded like the competition was gonna be fierce, just the way he liked it.
"Yup, let's get this done, Lady Goddess." The pallum hopped on after Athena. "How were the other two, by the by?"
As they walked up the stairs, Athena looked at the pallum with a curious look on her face.
"How they were? I'm not sure I understand what you're asking."
"Eh," Triss turned to face the Goddess, walking backwards up the stairs. "Like, potential-wise? Heard that some people start off with crazy cool skills n all."
"Potential, huh?" The Goddess said as they walked through the corridor of the second floor. "They each had their own strengths and unique capabilities."
Athena smiled lightly at the childish pallum's comment. True, some people had remarkably potent abilities or parameters when they first received their falna, but such indidivuals were rare and very far apart.
"Why are you so curious about what their atpitudes were like though?" She continued, as they now made way up the stairs leading to the third floor.
"Well," Triss began, raising a finger for each point, "we're in the same Familia and we all started at the same time, so that's about as close as I can get to rivals, right? Always like a fair competition."
As the reached the top of the stairs and Athena listened to the pallum's comments, she opened the 'A'-marked door for him to enter first, where-after she followed and shut the door behind them. Once inside Athena's rather modest room, the goddess spoke again.
"Rivals and competition?" She said, looking rather neutral and blank in her expression as she walked over to the bed. "I think you might not quite understand what kind of Familia this is" She stated. "I'm afraid you'll find my children rather uninterested in such things. They try to cooperate with one another, rather than seek to prove that one is superior to the rest." The goddess sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning slightly backwards, using her palms and straight-stretched arms as supports.
"So then, maybe I should ask you something instead, Triss Honeyforge." The Goddess said, looking over at the pallum from the corner of her eye. "What exactly do you believe a Familia to be? Or rather, what kind of Familia were you hoping to find?"
Triss sat down on the floor himself, crossing his legs. He frowned slightly at the amount of fur that had been shed there. Did Athena keep a cat somewhere? He picked up a couple of the ones close by, rolling it into a furry ball between his fingers before sticking it in his pockets for future disposal.
"One where everyone gets better and encourages everyone else to too," the pallum brawler replied, his own expression clueless towards whatever subtext the goddess communicated. "Isn't that what rivals do?"
The goddess smiled softly at the innocent pallum's idealism.
"Sometimes they do. Not all rivalries are of a friendly nature however." Although smiling and speaking politely, there was a tinge of bitterness - or perhaps resentment - to her voice. "Well, I doubt you came all this way to discuss philosophy. Why don't you sit down next to me and take off your shirt? I'll need to see your back in order to give you my blessing after all." She encouraged kidnly, gently patting the bed with her hand, signalling for the little one to sit down next ho her.
"Yeah, sure!" Hopping back onto his feet, Triss slipped his arms out of the baggy sleeves of his gi. He sat down beside Athena, twisted so his back faced her, before undoing the bandages around his chest. Once they were loose enough to reveal his bare back, the Pallum held the strips between his crossed arms and said, "Welp, go ahead."
The goddess placed her hands - once more - less than inch from the pallum's back, like she had with all the other candidates tjos day. As before, the glow came and illuminated the back of the room, while casting the other half into slight murk. The warm, pleasant sensation spread across the young pallum's back and he could feel the surge of growing energy. With the ritual and formalities coming to a close, the light faded, the warmth waned and Athena retracted her hands, now holding the status sheet in her right hand. Looking it over, she raised an eyebrow with a slightly surprised oh? accompanying it.
"Well now, look at this." She said, apparently in good hhumor again. "I haven't see this skill before." She stated, finishing looking over the slip of paper and then holding out for Triss to grab.
Triss twitched at all the weird sensations that popped up, letting out an 'eck' as the Goddess's blessing flow through the pallum's small frame. Once it was done, he quickly wrapped the bandages back on, shrugging into the sleeves of his gi once more. Clenching his fist, the pallum marveled at the excess of strength that was suddenly rushing through his veins...at least until he realized that he might be clenching too hard and now his nails were one millisecond away from cutting into his palms. Yikes, he unclenched soon enough.
"Oh?" Triss received Athena's paper with all the respect and reverrence of an overexcited child, his eyes flickering over it quickly, before the pallum just as quickly handed the paper back to the, no, his Goddess. "Uh, so what does this mean?" With no point of comparison, after all, Triss had no idea how to take all these numbers and letters, or if he should even be celebrating about this 'skill'.
"Ah, yes... I forgot you're not from Orario." Athena said, smiling sheephishly as she gently plucked the paper from the pallum. Turning it around with her fingers, so the youngster could see all the scribbles, Athena used her other hand - and more specifically, the index finger - to point at the various bits of letters. "To put it simply, these are grades of your various attributes, such as your physical strength and your agility. The letters next to them simply indicate how developed that attribute is." The goddess stated, going on to explain how the various ranks from I to A and then S worked.
"In addition, this part here tells you what skills and spells you currently know or am capable of using. In your case, this 'Iron Fist'-skil is what we call a Personal Skill, and is unique to you." She explained. "As you fight monsters in the Dungeon, or simply go about your everyday, your parameters will increase, and by allowing me to update your status - as I just did when blessing you - these numbers and ranks will increase." She stated simply. "Anthing else you'd like to know?"
"Hm, so you get stronger with every passing day..." Triss mulled over this momentarily, before a grin broke upon his features. "Good! Thank you!"
"You're very welcome." Athena let out a small laugh at the suddeny gratitude. "Now then, just like I told the girls before you." She began. "You now have seven days to prove that you belong with our Familia. If you cannot do so, I'll have to revoke my blessing from you." She said, again plainly and without any hint of malice or hidden subtext. She was just stating the conditions and requirements to remain with her familia. "Now then, shall we go and rejoin the others? I think there wa visitor as well that may need addressing." The Goddess said, motioning for the door out of her room.
"Yup, I still remember that," Triss replied , hopping off the bed. He did a couple more hops, before a bit of a frown crossed his features. "Oh, do you have a courtyard or something I could borrow for a bit, Goddess?"
"We don't have a courtyard, but there's a bit of open space in the backyard, along with Brozar's forge. Would that do" Atehna replied, now walking towards the door that led out of her room.
"Yup," Triss replied, a quick few steps carrying him to the door before the goddess could reach it. He opened it for her, waited a bit longer for her to cross the threshold, before sliding down the railing to the lower floors.
"Oh right! Who cooks dinner?"
Athena walked out and thanked Triss for his gentlemanly conduct. As Triss slid down to the second floor, she followed in a calm and poised manner down the stairs.
"Usually Doneth handles that, but when he's not around we take turns." She paused. "EXcept for Tiramis. She's not allowed to cook." She added, a strained smile on her face.
"Eh...sounds interesting."
Really did. Maybe the rest of the familia just wasn't accustomed to Tira's cooking style? Definitely had to be unique, didn't it? Triss recalled his first time eating raw fish with green powder-sauce himself, smiling at that cursed memory. With another nod of his head towards his Goddess, the pallum strode on out towards the backyard. The differences in strength was marked enough that he couldn't ignore it and go on as he always did. Training and adjustment, until he got accustomed to where he was at.
And then, after that?
Triss wasn't really all that smart, but even he knew that G was 8 letters away from S. Four years, and he was at the very bottom compared to the rest of Orario's adventurers.
The pallum grinned as he stepped onto the backyard. Got a lotta work ahead.
Sorano sat down properly, letting out a deep breath as her core relaxed. Rolling her wrists a couple of times, she began to massage her thighs. For all the reputation that came along with him, Kazuma looked to be relatively new to the teaching business, didn't he? Any Kusuburiha deserved such reverence and respect, perhaps even more, considering his particular deeds. Still, it was good to be back in the Club. Receiving one of the handouts, Sorano scanned through the details quickly enough, picking out whatever was the most important. Eight confirmed. Five unregistered. Three registered. The woods was isolated enough that human casualties haven't occured from this, but it was still a danger to the rest of humanity. She slid out her smartphone, punched in the coordinates printed on the documents, and nodded once as a route towards the area was marked.
Rising from her seat, Sorano removed her gloves, then her glasses, then put on new gloves, then new glasses, before taking a sip of her protein shake. It'd be a twenty minute drive before any of them reached the edge of the woods, where it'd be safe to travel at magically assisted speeds. Until then...
Appearance: Untransformed In life, she wasn't anything worth noting, but in undeath, Amaryllis could only be described as a model, her statuesque figure and her ample bosom capable of bringing all the boys to the yard with just a bend and a snap. Not that she's gotten all that used to flaunting her overdeveloped figure yet, leading her preference to baggy clothing that mostly mask her F-cup breasts and her child-birthing hips, even though such attempts are hardly effective when the rest of her body is just as attention grabbing.
Transformed All her attempts at modesty is tossed out the window, however, when she transforms, going from a girl perpetually wearing a sweater to a girl wearing clothes that flaunt more skin than some swimsuits. With hot pants and a coat that can only be buttoned at one point, there's no doubt that her magical outfit is a shamelessly skimpy one, the type you'd find trashy cosplayers wearing to grab larger, sleazier crowds.
Monstress At this point, Amaryllis may as well be nude, for all that's keeping her from being a total exhibitionist are the ribbons of darkness that hug her legs, pelvic area, and her chest, the remainder of this gossamer fabric trailing behind her like a cape. Her dark blue hair takes a wine-red coloration, and her elegant rapier twists and fuses with her arm to become a monstrous cleaver. Two great horns jut from her head, the surest sign of lost sanity, but they serve as her guide as well, dowsing rods to guide her path even once gore has caked her face completely. What flashes of memory she retains after reverting back to normal are dreadful and unpleasant, but if the occassion called for it, Amaryllis will always draw upon this crueler power no matter what she had to sacrifice in return.
Specialization:Metal The magic that resides within Amaryllis can be considered basic at best, completely uneducated at worst. Outside of her power, she is unable to do anything that other magical girls would be able to with their specializations. Forming other weapons out of thin air is beyond her, and to even be able to swing them around with mind alone? Completely out of the picture. No, her specialization is something centered on her weapon alone, using it to augment all aspects of her rapier to achieve a level of speed and skill beyond her already impressive physical means. Though it is nameless and formless, her Patron is quite an envious individual, after all.
Outside of combat, her Patron sure does enjoy being treated well, and has granted Amaryllis the boon of being skilled with other mechanical objects as well. Shame she'd make more money as a model though.
Weapon:Melee - Rapier An eloquently crafted rapier with a swept hilt, filled with motifs of entwining ivies and half-bloomed roses. Though primarily a weapon made for thrusting, its edges are sharp enough to slice through lesser metals as well, and under the glow of the moon, it shines with silver. Like the Lesser Force that resides within, it is nameless. Currency: 1 Gold 7 Silver 3 Bronze
Defeated Soth - 1 Gold 4 Silver 6 Bronze Defeated Crypt Minions - 2 Bronze Defeated Behemoth - 1 Gold 4 Silver 6 Bronze Defeated Stadium Minions - 2 Bronze Defeated Stadium Monsters - 1 Silver Defeated Chloe's Minions - 2 Bronze Participated in Volleyball - 1 Bronze Participated in Jet Skiing - 1 Bronze Participated in Water Skiing - 1 Bronze Participated in Keijo - 1 Gold Won the Keijo Tournament - 1 Gold Remained Relevant in the End of the Season - 1 Ruby Defeated Billy - 1 Gold 4 Silver 6 Bronze Cleared the Artemis Knight Bounty Hunt - 1 Gold Cleared the Keijo Tournament Bounty Hunt - 4 Silver Participated in Rave Event - 1 Gold, 2 Silver Cleared the Master of Puppets Bounty Hunt - 4 silver
Consumed 1 Ruby Coin - Gain +2 to Stats and Exchange Perk for one in the Same Table Consumed 3 Gold Coins - Gain +3 to Stats Consumed 10 Silver Coins - Purchased Infectious Yearn Consumed 2 Gold, 20 Bronze Coins - Gain +3 to Stats
Empty Pockets - All Currency Gained is Halved.
Powers Chains The constant reminder of her Patron's vendetta, Amaryllis is allowed one other 'power' to aid her on her adventures in the magical world: the summoning and manipulation of chains. From locking an elusive enemy into close combat to traversing vertical landscapes with eloquent flair to serving as a steel tightrope to cross crevasses with, these silver chains, reminiscent of hungering vines, grant Amaryllis the versatility that she otherwise lacks and the ability to 'save' that she otherwise does not have.
Killing Blow: Ecliptic Bloom; Reverie of the Umbral Rose "Witness, ancients languishing upon ye ruined thrones. My brilliance shall eclipse all that have come before me!" After five seconds of repose, Amaryllis is able to activate the full power of the Lesser Force she wields, unleashing her Killing Blow. Her lungs expand, her senses sharpen, and the intentions of all those around her are clarified for a single instance. In that moment, the Knight of Rose reaches the peak of swordsmanship, attaining martial enlightenment that surpasses all past Sword Saints and allowing her to perform a lethal counterstrike that seals away her foes' attacks before they are performed while simultaneously striking them down in a flash of steel and light. As they fall before her, their bodies sustain no visible injuries and their countenance is that of one who passed peacefully in their sleep, but their souls have been sheared from their flesh, reaped by the mirrored blade.
If activated in her Monstress form, Eclipitic Bloom manifests itself in a much more grotesque manner, the blackened sword-arm splitting into a gaping maw that bites down on the target. Here, the Sword strips away its elegance as a weapon, instead turning into the head of a formless, alien creature that consumes all there is before it. But the Sword did bloom, and it did eclipse all that stood before it. Perhaps this is what the Killing Blow was truly named after.
Perks: Gifted - The memory of the soul-binding chains that once held her Patron down now resides within Amaryllis herself, and with the roots of her magical capabilities expanding to greater depths, the Knight of Rose is now capable of replicating them. Her silver chains are now capable of restricting the ethereal, from chaining down the soul, to restricting the flow of magic, to even latching onto space itself. Binding the passage of time, however, is still beyond Amaryllis.
Monstrous Metamorphosis - A partial transformation into a more monstrous magical girl, brought forth by feelings of rage or helplessness. The sword fuses with the arm, while clothing melts away into scandalous strips of blackness instead. From her forehead, two great horns extend, while her hair turns a beautiful shade of wine red. +2 to all physical stats, in return for loss of rationality.
Big Backpack - A summonable backpack with a variety of useful things, such as free food, identification, extra clothes, a basic survival kit, a laptop that always has internet connection, and $10000 in cash. The backpack is larger than it seems from the outside, and can be summoned if lost or misplaced.
Big Damn Hero - Two tokens, one for a person and one for a place, can be given or fixed upon any target of her choice, enabling her to always be able to make it in time when danger occurs nearby. Truly heroic.
Trained - The realm of her Patron is the way of the sword, but the realm of her body encompasses so much more than that. With rebirth came her instinctual mastery over gymnastics, granting her the precision and flexibility that her trademark style relies upon.
Underdog - No matter how powerful the foe before her, victory is always a possibility, and destiny itself conspires to twist pheneomenons in the favor of the challenger.
Mirror Move - At a certain point, the boundaries of technique and the supernatural cross, and in that intersection, the mirrored blade shines. With an expenditure of stamina intense enough that such skill can only be used once in an encounter, even the most esoteric magic can be reflected unto its caster.
Inventory: Infectious Yearn - A small horn fragment from an elder unicorn, twisted by dark magic. A reverse Purification artifact that instead draws in monsters. Even monster girls are attracted to it’s dark radiance. If a monster remains near it too long, they may try to swallow it. This can turn lesser monsters into elite versions of themselves that then act as pack leaders. Monster girls who eat the artifact will only attract monsters. And much like the artifact itself, will soon find themselves devoured by their company. Intelligent monsters can resist its charms.
“We yearn for purity, only so we may defile it.”
Patron: The Sword
Patron Benefits: Usurper of Behemoths - It is the hunter, and she is its hound, leading it closer to the grand monstrosities that it shall challenge and vanquish. Their souls will slake its thirst. Their hearts will fortify her still. Upon slaying a powerful foe, gain either 2 Benefits, 1 Power with a Drawback, or a Weapon Form.
Focused - It tugs at her subconscious, guiding the child of dust and flesh towards pathways and trajectories too sharp for her mortal mind to comprehend. Techniques cost less mana.
Mental Link - It seeps into her thoughts, polluting and distorting her mind with images and sounds. Sometimes beneficial, sometimes not, it remains ever-present, a companion to the end of undeath.
Physical Prowess - It remade her more whole than she ever was, sharing some of its steel, for wielder and weapon should be one and same. +1 to Strength.
Gifted Item - It grants her a boon for being the one to select it, for being the one who feeds it. An artifact of healing hangs from her choker, emanating with magic that heals all so long as they remain breathing.
Hidden Death - It anchors itself to the unbreakable, and will be present long after the world breaks itself apart. As immortal and undying as its wielder, it will stand with her till the end of time, so long as she does the same for it.
Patron Drawbacks: Alien Tongue - It speaks in pain and images, the veil of blood ever-present in its thoughts. The scarring of flesh is a cruel teacher, but an effective one.
Formless - It has no mouth to speak, no hands to touch. Nameless and formless, its will can only be done through its wielder and its slave, its feeder and its progeny.
Vendetta - It has never forgotten, the blood-scent of those that had tried to seal it, to cast it into that wretched sarcophagus. Against artificers bearing the mark of a certain magic circle, it WILL make its anger known, even if it means driving its wielder to the jaws of death. Deities of creation also earn its ire, but not to that same degree of berserk rage.
Empty Pockets - It is a spirit. It is also just a sword. Swords don't have pockets.
Fighting Style Amaryllis oozes with style and elegance when she steps into combat, rusty roses blooming around her as she twirls and dances, an ever-flowing flurry of parries, thrusts, and cuts. The bloodletting is an art form for her, one that ignores efficiency for fancy acrobatics and nigh-impossible contortions. Chains whip around as continuations of the silver waltz, drawing her closer to her quarry and preventing their escape once she does close in, because it's simply rude to leave the stage before the dance ends. Her Patron guides her sword and warns her of danger with plucks of phantom pain, while her own superhuman body gives her the power to turn danger into another oppurtunity to show off.
Some Magical Girls play this as an FPS. Other Magical Girls treat this as a button-masher. Still more think that this is an MMO. But Amaryllis owns a specialized controller and only plays 'this' as a 2D anime-style fighting games to make super flashy, super inefficient combo videos.
Of course, there's definitely times where she baby-rages and turns everything into God of War, but Monstress Amaryllis is a totally different sort of beast.
Personality: Amaryllis is a bit of a pushover and a bit of a conformist, traits gained from her past life that she has yet to grow out of. The easiest way out is the best way out, and if given the choice between having a normal life and being thrust into stardom, she'd usually choose the former, if only because there's less surprises involved. Unremarkable outside of her new looks, she'd really just like it if everyone looked away, even if she also doesn't really like herself for being like that to begin with. If the world could move on without regard to whatever she wants to do with her life, Amaryllis would be totes happy about that.
Transforming into a magical girl, however, allows her to put on a persona of a prideful, flamboyant spoiled princess swordswoman thing, the perfect form of stress relief for that socially-repressed girl. It is here that Amaryllis blooms, spouting poor prose and poetry shamelessly as she pirouettes through her tasks, dancing under the moonlight amongst scarlet ichor. Is that her ideal self? She doesn't know, but she would like to work to make that self true.
Nowadays, however, the line is becoming more and more blurred. There is Amaryllis Evenings, the wallflower who just wants to live peacefully and there is Amaryllis Evenings, the knight who refuses to stand down in the face of horror and injustice, no matter how gargantuan her foe is. Where does the mask end, and when does she begin?
It begins with her Sword, and ends with her Heart.
History: Everything was unremarkable for the girl Amaryllis used to be. She had her circle of friendly acquaintances she occasionally hung out with, and she was one of the many members of the introverted Library Club. With average grades and average looks, and a family that was neither dysfunctional nor particularly loving, everything lined itself up in her life to create a normal, ordinary one for this shy, wallflower of a girl.
Then, the class went on a camping trip and she found a sword in a cave, and it all went downhill from there. Contracted by the Lesser Spirit that resided within the sword, the girl Amaryllis once was died and was reborn into a magical warrior, the arms and legs of a weapon that had never seen the sun rise. And though she was resistant to it in the past, Amaryllis soon learned that there were harder things to do than to fight at the behest of her sword.
Such as convincing her parents that she had not died after all.
Such as resisting the psychic pain that her Patron spoke to her in.
Such as giving up the power that allowed her to become so much more than what she once was.
Since then, many things have happened. The disappearance of Aurora McKenzie. The frenzied battle in the graveyard against Soth's advent. Her encounters with so many magical girls, each unique in the crosses they bore. Sammy, the Super Sleuth in search of the one that tormented her. Mariette, the child burdened by her sense of duty to the Horror that saved her. Annabelle, the Witch who reclaimed her sanity at the end of her life. Rina, an ever steadfast ally of justice. The girls of Beacon, paradoxical in their desires and their goals. Lily. Tetrad. Hilaria. Cindy. Emily. The Djinn Twins.
A myriad of threads form the web that is Penrose.
But in the gossamer deluge of schemes and plots, Amaryllis remembers still.
The purpose of her strength, and the brilliance of her promises.
She will no longer hide.
Incantation:"The love of the moon, the grace of the petals. Underneath the glory of the heavens, I gather them all and present myself. Amaryllis Evenings, Knight of the Rose! May the flower of your heart be reflected within my silverlight!"
Personality: Cruel, envious, petty, sadistic, bloodlusted, and awe-struck by the world around it. A brattish child of a Lesser Force, in other words. But really, what can you expect out of a sword?
History: It was once a masterpiece, a weapon great and terrible, that could cleave apart the gods that sat on their high thrones. But it was not what they had wanted to make, and it was too dangerous to control. So they tried to destroy it, and when that didn't work, they sealed it away in haste, tossing it somewhere deep and hoping no one would stumble upon that mistake.
Someone did. And when the contract was made, when two lives were woven into one, it breathed in the air and breathed in the blood that had been denied of it for so long.
It was nameless, formless, but it remembered still, the trembling hearts of those that made it and betrayed it.
Resources: The Sword only has one wielder, and as long as she doesn't betray it, it will not turn its steel upon her. Unfortunately, that sort of mutual loyalty is the only thing it can offer to her. Swords don't see value in trinkets and baubles, after all. If that interests its wielder, she better start finding other ways of scrounging up coins.
Overarching Goals:
Kill Monsters Kill Magical Girls Kill Avatars or Patrons
Additional Info: Proper maintenance is like a full-body massage for the Sword. Very enjoyable, especially after a hard fight.
The moon shone, and she stood alone, bathed in fluorescent fire.
Her arms raised towards Diana, entwining in an infinite spiral, caressing the face of the heavens even as slender fingers grasped nothing. The maiden and the moon, separated by the vastness of distance.
But the Heavenly Muses, faceless and flowing, saw the offering and took it, nine celestial flowers twirling around her as moonlight bent and twirled, as her earthly garments dissolved into Edenic dress.
She twirled at the insufficient peak, the Edenic fabric dissolving in starfire. Her arms unravelled like the blooming of a rose, and sparkling sand, lunar dust, fell from the moon, sifting through the gaps of her cupped hands.
The staircase shattered and, arching her back against the tyranny of gravity, she fell into a garden of roses, iron vines tearing into flesh.
From the rose garden, the maiden knight resurfaced, clad in Silverlight and Starspace.
✦【I】 【A】【M】 【R】【E】【B】【O】【R】【N】✦
The Gourd
A soft spoken girl who moves deliberately and calmly. Always dressed in gothic attire, her eyes are a coal black that occasionally flickers into silver. She addresses herself as 'we' and her voice is inflectionless and emotionless.
Spec Ops NEXT
???
The Unassociated
Lightning | Barrage Gifted | Interdimensional Home | Big Damn Hero | A Way Out | Environmental Sealing Clergy | Blessing | Mana Font | Mystic Might Rites | Hidebound | Unknown | Big Brother
When one Priestess relinquishes their task, that same task is taken up by their descendants, and for Lei Zi, that is not a burden she wishes upon her children. The mystic maiden of a serpentine god of storms, she takes her work seriously, spreading the knowledge of her unknown God around the globe. Having recently arrived upon Penrose after completing her establishment of a holy temple in China, she now works to do the same in Penrose. Smite evil and bring forth the rain; this task compels her, and three decades has passed now.
An investigator in both her normal and supernatural life, Fine is the favoured magical girl of the Puchuu Mimoku, and takes pride in accomplishing her work, no matter how dangerous they end up being. Often, she is the vanguard of her affluent patron's forces, scouting out the lairs of dangerous monsters or magical girls, before coming out with information to utilize against them. It's ended up with some bloody consequences for her in the past, but it's nothing a stiff drink can't and a hot bath couldn't fix.
Fire | Darkness | Killing Blow Infestation | Mana Channel | Ethereal | Overcity Shift | Patron Interference – Ebon Mint Free Agent | Alone | Magical Overload Destroyer | Chaos Engine | Second Spec | Wings
When Askefye awoken, she was surrounded by ash, her own body burning painlessly. Destructive impulses raged in her mind, and conflagarations answered her call, almost as if it were second nature. It took longer for her to realize that something other was inside her. But it didn't matter. There were monsters to burn. Magical girls to kill. Cities to set aflame. The Ebon Mint shadowed her steps, offering her aid when she was alone, but the Black Coin they gave meant nothing to her, and Askefye remained what she always was: a lonely pyromaniac, warmed the flames she let loose.
Lightning | Scrying Mystic Artifact | Enhanced Transformation | Awareness | Absolute Direction | Natural Aging Hidden Death | Focused | Genki Girl Rival Force | Clueless | Mana Starved
Twenty years ago, Liss, who had naturally aged enough that she was permanently in what other magical girls would consider their Prime state, ended up having her skull smashed in by the Contender. That sucked, but also, that was totally awesome! After resurrection, she cut ties with her Patron and signed up to be a member of the Contender's Fanclub, taking lessons in boxing and muay thai as she slowly adjusted herself from a magical wizard to a magical bruiser. It was fun, it was great! It was finally coming together after five continuous defeats against him, and she was certain that next time, she'd be the one walking away alive. Then the magical girl that showed up before she did got the win and Liss...wasn't all that sad at all! Just meant more training for her, and it meant that she wasn't going to miss out on the rave either!
Corrupted Spirit | Hammerspace | Copycat Healing Artifact | Enhanced Outfit | Oujo-Sama | Memory Link | Mount Job Satisfaction | Well Connected Distracted | Hostile Hoarder
It turns out that her Puchuu didn't like smug little girls with the patience to spend three months working out contract negotiations with them. But, sadly for them, Myria was exactly that sort of girl. Poor all her life, she learned quickly that the world wasn't going to hand you anything, and became the sort of person to grab everything. So demanding and materialistic was she that the mere act of becoming a magical girl ended up turning her into a dark magical girl. Myria was happy with that, of course. With her particular brand of magic and her incredibly handsome manservant, she finally felt like she could start living the good life...but maybe she'll hoard just a bit more before she does.
@Card Captor I'm going to assume that you used the Ruby Coin to purchase the Gifted Perk. In that case, please explain in detail what special application of his Specialization Alex obtained from becoming Gifted and put that in your CS. After that, you're accepted.
@Rune_Alchemist You have a hider of Divina within Aurora's hider. If that's intentional, good job on the innuendo. If not, maybe remove it. Otherwise, I don't see any problems. Accepted.
@ERode Honestly, I've never seen a CS so well-written. Props to you, good sir. Accepted.
Phase
Rabidporcupine
Citrus
Candelabra
TheMushroomLord
Lucid Dreaming
Xaltwind
Kumbaris
stone
