ERode

Return of a Failed Generation

Alright, threading together some stuff tangentially. Might need to alter muh backstory as a result, but...

@Silver Carrot What are your thoughts of Sherry having Ferrucio as her lackey, and filling in for the Young Master role in his own backstory? It'd mean that they were at least halfways-related, since dude was born from an affair or whatever, but it could work out otherwise. He'd do the dirty work to assist her in keeping her own hands clean, more out of obligation than anything else, which would lead up to the assassination attempt on Estelle.

Then there could be some messy feelings around the end of their lives, where Sherry saw Ferrucio, that dumb lackey born out of her mother's infidelity or indiscretion, being one of the ones that survived and continued fighting till the end of humanity's demise, while he saw her and only pitied her as some common citizen who had been captured by the demons and used as a meat-shield.

@owo And on the topic of Estelle, do you imagine that she'd have paid all that much mind to Ferrucio in the way she treated her younger House-siblings? Sorta like a 'pity that bastard-child who's only kept as a spare and a shield' kinda deal. My thought was that he'd have kinda brushed off any of her older-sister kindness because 1) he was too busy looking at his feet and 2) she doesn't use a sword. Dunno how things turned out after that, but if she found out that he was the "one" that arranged the assassination attempt, that'd be kinda spicy and messy.

@Teyao With regards to Rowan and Ferrucio also being more closely related, I was thinking that they'd basically be entirely unaware of each other, or diametrically opposed to each other back in school. Rowan's pretty fiery, after all, while Ferrucio is like the 'bangs-over-his-eyes' kinda character who's kinda dull-witted and doesn't do anything without orders.

But maybe, at the very end of the line, with both of them being ordered to patch up the ships in preparation to escape the continent, the two of them would've connected in their shared misery and despair, in consideration to all that they've lost? Heck, they may have even bonded over a shared envy for what either of them have, even if its a misshapen caricature of the ideal: a shield that has survived the tempest of war and an axe that had cleaved through the thickest night.

@Rune_Alchemist@Atlas946 I don't have anything that comes into mind in particular for you two, but I'm open for plotting hijinks wherever.

Return of a Failed Generation

Will yap about character possibilities tonight.

In My Second Life, I'm Done Holding Back!

"C'mon! Let's see how far we can push it!"

Ferrucio Agatino Kaides

Age: 17 [27] | Height: 5'11 | Voice: Tenor

First Life

They were Brilliance itself, exemplified in the solitary flash of their blade, in the innocent ideals reflected in their gaze. In his past and in his present, they always colored the world in a rose hue, as if the heat in his blood, the quickening of his heart, could be explained away by a heady summer that only he could feel.

And who was he but the bastard child of the Kaides, a mongrel birthed from the indiscretion of a prodigal knight, pulled into the gravity of the great house simply out of a moment of charity? He could not dare aspire, could only be set in the role of a shieldbearer, a perpetual squire in role if not name. He was the shadow of the flower that basked in the sun, fungal growth that only parasitized and poisoned at the behest of the young master. He learned to wield a shield before a sword, for the glory of the kill was meant for others, and the only strength he developed was that of a pack mule.

It was no surprise that he was left behind. The Young Master that he served bloomed brilliantly, becoming part of the Last Great Generation. The Brilliance that had colored his days had long departed to the borderlands as Captain of the Swiftblades Regiment, tasked with preemptive strikes against monstrous encampments. And he? He was but a dumb, sullen thing, shriveling up as an oaf of an errand boy for those that remained stuck with the label of the Failed Generation. He could have left, perhaps. House Kaides had all but disavowed him, that charity case whose prostitute-blood ran more thickly than his noble blood. And yet, he remained in the Collegem Yllustre still. Training. Straining. Keeping his head down, keeping his profile low, but crawling still.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words once he graduated, once the fruits of his efforts awarded him with an Awakened Aura.

Graduation came, and his Aura remained stagnant. The Demons tore down Solvah, and he was sent out as a foot soldier rather than a Knight of Kaides.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words once he distinguished himself in combat, for perhaps it was in life-and-death battle against true evil that he would awaken to his Kaides-blood.

There was nothing so glorious as holding a shieldwall, only to be sent flying from the minotaurs' charge and spending the remainder of his first battle trying not to swallow the vomit stuck in his helmet as he stumbled away from the worst of the action.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words onc-

The siege of Ylliastrum was nothing but tragedy after tragedy, breathless messengers delivering word of more and more losses around the kingdom, and even amidst all that, the story of the ignoble end of the Swiftswords Regiment stood out, the banners of that expeditionary strike force turned to nothing more than a cloak for the Beast King to wear into battle.

-e he could take Yaku's head, for the 'glory' of being promoted to serve as a Royal Guard during these desperate times was entirely insufficient.

And yet the Beast King fell while he was leagues away, alongside the true heroes of Kaidisyum who dealt the greatest blow the Demonic Horde had ever suffered. And even that great victory wasn't enough to change the reality of his own situation: nothing more than a laborer now, every able-bodied youth tasked with putting hammer to nail, nail to board, repairing and preparing every possible ship there was for the voyage to the Fae Isles. It was their only hope, after all, a hope roused by the First Princess's impassioned speech, a hope that shone so bright that it turned those bitter days halcyon once more.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words once the war was lost and they became refugees, so that he could at least tell others what that individual meant to him.

But when the bells tolled the arrival of despair, when he strapped on his dented armor, his claw-rent shield, the sword he stole off a better man, he knew that too was no longer a possibility.

When all was lost, what else was there to do?

He braced himself and reached for the only spot of glory left for this muzzled mongrel.

A glorious charge, a glorious death, all so he didn't have to learn what fate would befall the last Royals of Luzia.

...

Even in his last breath, Ferrucio Agatino Kaides could not put his feelings into words.

All he could do was lament that he ought to have spoken up fifteen years earlier.

Equipment

• Sword & Board
• Full Plate w/o Helmet
• A Big Ass Cape

Abilities

• Physical Strength: 2nd Rate
• Aura: Expert
• Magic: 0th Circle

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

Oh right, I was wondering as well...

In terms of gaining more EXP points n all, is it something that's like "once every arc" or something that happens more often? Are people getting EXP on a case by case basis, off of what characters do, or do we get EXP as a group, like how milestone leveling works?

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

@ZerothI was originally thinking that it’d be the father who was a Kaides, but I think it’d be spicier if it was the mother who was the Kaides instead. Something something, popped outta the womb and looked nothing like (read: cuter than) the husband ever could. Probably still will have a similar kinda setup though, where a knight of House Kaides spends a celebratory last night of a long deployment at a brothel before returning home to their family and spouse. Nine months later and oops, that’s not your kid!

Probably wouldn’t be a ‘son’ of the Patriarch in that case; more associated with one of the adult kids.

I’ll leave you to flesh out ze Young Master if you want, but they’d be associated with the Kaides. I had approached it as the angle that Ferrucio himself was allowed to stay in the House basically to serve as a second set of hands for the proper heir; in that case, the Young Master would be his older sibing/cousin/etc. I was generally thinking that they’d be the ignoble sort who was the one that put out the hit on Estelle, for two tigers cannot roam the same mountain, but that’ll be kinda up to OwO.

The Swiftblades could be a non-elite unit of House Kaides yeah. I was thinking they’d be a frontier force that basically deals with all the monsters plaguing the borders of the kingdom. A protector of the commonfolk, who ride on swift steeds and cleave through calamities with blessed steel, answering the demon armies that are too much for ragtag adventurers and too small to mobilize the army.

Think it’d be part BEEG PR for Kaides and part “this is where idealistic knights go to chase their dreams”.

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

I think we need a family tree kekeke.

You got a specific year for when Estelle got her ass poisoned, owo?

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

What’s your idea behind the half-sibling thing? Alternatively, how many bastards can one Knight sire?

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

I was extremely tempted to go full Aura, but alas. Gotta hedge my bets at least a little bit.

Anyways, he's definitely done some dirty work at the behest of the Young Master, so if anyone wants to make drama outta it, lemme know.

In My Second Life, I'm Done Holding Back!

"C'mon! Let's see how far we can push it!"

Ferrucio Agatino Kaides

Age: 17 [27] | Height: 5'11 | Voice: Tenor

First Life

They were Brilliance itself, exemplified in the solitary flash of their blade, in the innocent ideals reflected in their gaze. In his past and in his present, they always colored the world in a rose hue, as if the heat in his blood, the quickening of his heart, could be explained away by a heady summer that only he could feel.

And who was he but the bastard child of the Kaides, a mongrel birthed from the indiscretion of a prodigal knight, pulled into the gravity of the great house simply out of a moment of charity? He could not dare aspire, could only be set in the role of a shieldbearer, a perpetual squire in role if not name. He was the shadow of the flower that basked in the sun, fungal growth that only parasitized and poisoned at the behest of the young master. He learned to wield a shield before a sword, for the glory of the kill was meant for others, and the only strength he developed was that of a pack mule.

It was no surprise that he was left behind. The Young Master that he served bloomed brilliantly, becoming part of the Last Great Generation. The Brilliance that had colored his days had long departed to the borderlands as Captain of the Swiftblades Regiment, tasked with preemptive strikes against monstrous encampments. And he? He was but a dumb, sullen thing, shriveling up as an oaf of an errand boy for those that remained stuck with the label of the Failed Generation. He could have left, perhaps. House Kaides had all but disavowed him, that charity case whose prostitute-blood ran more thickly than his noble blood. And yet, he remained in the Collegem Yllustre still. Training. Straining. Keeping his head down, keeping his profile low, but crawling still.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words once he graduated, once the fruits of his efforts awarded him with an Awakened Aura.

Graduation came, and his Aura remained stagnant. The Demons tore down Solvah, and he was sent out as a foot soldier rather than a Knight of Kaides.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words once he distinguished himself in combat, for perhaps it was in life-and-death battle against true evil that he would awaken to his Kaides-blood.

There was nothing so glorious as holding a shieldwall, only to be sent flying from the minotaurs' charge and spending the remainder of his first battle trying not to swallow the vomit stuck in his helmet as he stumbled away from the worst of the action.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words onc-

The siege of Ylliastrum was nothing but tragedy after tragedy, breathless messengers delivering word of more and more losses around the kingdom, and even amidst all that, the story of the ignoble end of the Swiftswords Regiment stood out, the banners of that expeditionary strike force turned to nothing more than a cloak for the Beast King to wear into battle.

-e he could take Yaku's head, for the 'glory' of being promoted to serve as a Royal Guard during these desperate times was entirely insufficient.

And yet the Beast King fell while he was leagues away, alongside the true heroes of Kaidisyum who dealt the greatest blow the Demonic Horde had ever suffered. And even that great victory wasn't enough to change the reality of his own situation: nothing more than a laborer now, every able-bodied youth tasked with putting hammer to nail, nail to board, repairing and preparing every possible ship there was for the voyage to the Fae Isles. It was their only hope, after all, a hope roused by the First Princess's impassioned speech, a hope that shone so bright that it turned those bitter days halcyon once more.

He had thought that he'd be able to put his feelings into words once the war was lost and they became refugees, so that he could at least tell others what that individual meant to him.

But when the bells tolled the arrival of despair, when he strapped on his dented armor, his claw-rent shield, the sword he stole off a better man, he knew that too was no longer a possibility.

When all was lost, what else was there to do?

He braced himself and reached for the only spot of glory left for this muzzled mongrel.

A glorious charge, a glorious death, all so he didn't have to learn what fate would befall the last Royals of Luzia.

...

Even in his last breath, Ferrucio Agatino Kaides could not put his feelings into words.

All he could do was lament that he ought to have spoken up fifteen years earlier.

Equipment

• Sword & Board
• Full Plate w/o Helmet
• A Big Ass Cape

Abilities

• Physical Strength: 2nd Rate
• Aura: Expert
• Magic: 0th Circle

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

It would be pretty funny if there was a whole ass chain set up. I generally intend on creating a character whose major regret stems from never confessing their feelings for another character (whether NPC or PC) because they only wanted to do so after the war ended.

So naturally, when the war ends (via death into time travel), its time to go hard.

⇜ Deicide ⇝ [Dark Fantasy Isekai]

Things happened fast. His words sounded faster, a comic cavalier slicing through the tension.

“Tastes like caramel.” He held out one of the candle flames to her, for just a soft second. “Give it a try!”

“Of course it’s hot, dumbass.” A pause, just brief enough to recognize that the flames stopped raining, if only due to the hag’s windshield. “Kekeke, looks like the old bat disagrees with your ‘effectiveness’ though.”

“And sword-bud, if you have two, share it! Gonna be funny as fuck i-”

It arrived.

A gargantuan mass of feathers and flesh, dripping with an alabaster fluid. Three eyes, a grotesque structure, and the fearless ability to dive headfirst into the windshield without thought for self-preservation. The impact was like thunder; the hag’s sorceries held still.

He let out a low whistle. “This is another of the Scaled One’s things?”

Someone else responded in the affirmative.

A pebble was sifted out of the dirt, hurled out without resistance from the windshield. It bounced off the feathers of the Three-Eyed though, hardly effective. A spear, one of three buried within his head, poked out from the fluorescent flames; with the lightest touch, he flung it out, the tip of it burning with the flames he had pilfered. It didn’t reach. Repelled by the same raging wind that forced back the bird, the flaming spear struck the ground, staked once more. Fists and timber, hm? Against a creature like this, easily larger than a grown man?

His skeletal jaw opened up.

Of the three eyes that it possessed, one had found his own upon the monster’s descent.

And now, whatever smell it gave off was beginning to pull him away from his thoughts, beginning to peel away at what he was. The allure of a strong drink. Of a drunk man’s taint. Of addiction and nostalgia, founded in the alleyways of the rotted mind. He drew in another breath, feeling it scrape against his insides, a lover spurned but unrepentantly pursuing despite the pain. A cough, then another. No more room for experimentation when it was joy and pain enough just to breathe.

His one eye turned to the side, seeing the greater-cursed girl lost in the throes of this same compulsion, her mouth wide open as if to catch those droplets of white rain.

Hah.

With neither fist nor timber, there was only one thing he ought to do.

Stumble over, each step echoed with a hacking cough and a sensuous wheeze, before half-tackling, half-falling-into her, forcing her open mouth to eat some burnt dirt instead.

“Well?”

There was always room for witticisms.

“Did that taste good?”

Return of a Failed Generation: A Time Regression Power Fantasy

I think I'll just make resident sword-and-board man then, no problemo.

Bro will be having a blast in the New Game Plus.