Member
tobiax said
Awesome. Is that yellow bugger any decent?
Jolly, 3iv's, perfect in Attack, Special Attack and Speed. But 0 in Defense. Might use for a game playthrough sometime, or trade her to someone who'd appreciate it.
-
Last Seen:
0-24 hrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1071 (0.24 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Fish of Oblivion 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Illin,
Kronshi,
Eisenhorn,
O O,
Byte,
FalkinPAAAWNCH,
GOATPlumber,
Kuro,
Neziul,
SkyeOfStars
Status
Recent Statuses
4 mos ago
Current
So it goes.
4 yrs ago
Talk to your players and be open to their ideas, at the end of the day we're all just here to shoot the shit.
4 yrs ago
Honestly, more structured/collaborative roleplays can be really fun and rewarding, but if you're going to open a project like that up you have to be flexible and open to compromise.
2
likes
9 yrs ago
current shitpost level: writing about how your favourite taiwanese puppet shows experiment with narrative for graded academic work
9 yrs ago
But god knows how many hours I've sunk into my collection of main series Pokémon game, so it's like making me pick between my children. :'D
1
like
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Jolly, 3iv's, perfect in Attack, Special Attack and Speed. But 0 in Defense. Might use for a game playthrough sometime, or trade her to someone who'd appreciate it.
“So there’s this guy; big, black and red motherfucker with two swords for hands- fuck only knows how that’s supposed to work- and we’re fighting. Well, supposed to be fighting anyway.”
Figuring some conversation would break the tension between the group a little, Alphamon had attempted to strike one up with some warstories. A couple rounds of Imperialdramon and Omnimon later, the topic had moved into Kappa’s hands.
“Fucker seemed more interested in mouthing off than he did fighting; I mean, hell, I rammed a goddamn spear through his chest and it didn’t shut him up for a second.”
“... The fuck?” Examon asked, having paid attention to the story the moment BlackWarGreymon had cropped up in it at the beginning.
“You’re asking me,” Kappa replied, “Seemed to think he was the next coming of Huanglongmon or something. Either him or his pet meatsack thought he was, anyway; that fucker never shut his mouth either.”
“Fucking Ancients,” Examon muttered as he spat something out to the ground far beneath him, “Fuck them and fuck the Sovereigns.”
“Hear hear,” Kappa replied, before he focused his eyes and peered into the distance again, watching as their destination grew closer.
“Well, here we go,” He called back to Examon and Alphamon, “For real, this time around.”
“It’s about time we finally end this charade. It’s been dragging on for way too long and I’m not exactly fond of long-winded stories,” Alphamon replied, a sense of relief now building up inside.
“It feels like we’ve been here for YEARS. And I feel like half of those were just against fucking Imperialdramon,” Examon groaned in kind.
“Nope, just a day or so. Goddamn fast turnaround for a war, if I say so myself,” Kappa replied too, before he went in to descend, “Then again, I’m technically only a few hours old, so the fuck do I know?”
“On the bright side, at least it’s going to end soon and we all could focus on a different kind of war once the dust settles. Not that I look forward to that, but at least it wouldn’t be as long,” Alphamon chimed in and carefully navigated her way closer to the ground.
--
Kappa was taking a long time. An awfully long time. Sleipmon had already begun to consider trying to find Kappa himself on the off-chance that he had been obliterated. He looked to Parasimon - or maybe what was left of Parasimon at this point. Kappa seemed convinced he could be salvaged. After that fight, Sleipmon doubted it. Even the more powerful Knights would be dead and Parasimon was a bit of a mistake in the first place.
Something cracked. A sudden, sharp sound that Sleipmon only noticed since he so on edge.
“dijvouerhpbuhwepuvpiybiyyvouv.”
The incomprehensible noise reverberated outwards amongst the sounds of cracking, at first faint, and then increasingly higher and higher pitched as the cracking sounds began to die down a little.
Across the surface of the crystalline mass nearby Sleipmon, thousands of millions of hairline fractures could be seen to web out. The process paused, as the incomprehensible noise rose in pitch and the sounds of cracking became more and muted, before it paused entirely. The cracking sounds faded out entirely, and the noise grew to the highest pitch before stopping very abruptly.
The crystal seemed frozen in time and space, and so did everything around it.
The surface shimmered, suddenly and in a way that broke the sense of cessation around it.
And then it ruptured outwards in one single instance that coated the cave with black slime and glistening shards of crystal.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH,” the wriggling mass of black flesh and sinew that had been within the crystal shrieked, in a voice that was at first high-pitched and demonic before it descended into a deeper, lower tone of pain and rage, as it was exposed to the world around it.
Four gigantic arms twitched like those of a newborn baby as Parasimon found himself far from where he had fought BanchoLeomon, as he laid on the stone floor of the cavern with his senses torn asunder. His many eyes blinked, his jaws swung wide open in a large arc before closing suddenly. The process repeated several times until his breath became stable, and he closed his eyes.
He coughed several times, fluid leaking out of his jaws as he did so. He took in another deep breath, before-
“Wh-where the hell am I?” He thought aloud, still barely cognizant of his surroundings aside from the basic fact he had been moved as he lay on the floor of the cavern.
“Still among the living. Which Demon Lord did you piss off, you can’t even die?” Sleipmon kept his tone light, even if he was certain that his shock at Parasimon’s miraculous revival was plain on his face. He glanced at the black slime dripping off his arm plate and flicked it off as best he could. Good thing he had Red Digizoid, he decided as he looked at the crystalline splinters embedded into the cavern walls.
Parasimon didn’t even bother with a sharp reply- his senses were returning, but there was nowhere near enough presence of mind in him to do anything more except comprehend that he was alive and that Sleipmon was here. He blinked several more times, at that point becoming conscious that he had eyes again. His memory was clearing up, and he also became conscious of the fact that they’d melted right out of his skull from being exposed to the sheer heat of Brahmastra Kundala.
Brahmastra Kundala. BanchoLeomon. That bullshit gigantic energy beam that he’d been blasted with. Resolution. Determination. Life. Death.
It all hit Parasimon out of nowhere with the force of the explosion his clash with BanchoLeomon had created.
“... What even HAPPENED?!?” He asked with a deep gurgling groan as his memory flooded back into his head, as the sudden shock jump-started the return of his faculties and made him at least partly cognizant once more.
“Ok. So crystals fix your eyes. Not your brains. Got it.” Sleipmon wracked his own, trying to figure out the best way to fill in Parasimon on the events he’d missed and how to tactfully explain to him that Imperialdramon, along with a Parasi-spawn, had gotten blasted to egg-sized data chunks by the combined might of Alphamon, Examon, Dynasmon, MirageGaogamon, Dukemon, and Seraphimon. “So, first thing. After you became a crystal, Kappa saved you from being smashed by Bancholeomon. That’s probably a thing you should know.” And from there, Sleipmon recapped the events leading up to the end of the massive battle.
“... We’re the only two left,” Was Parasimon’s only response, after a long, pregnant pause. He’d stopped blinking now, and his eyes were wide open and empty as he stared up at the ceiling of the cave, “The only two left, and against the Sovereigns.”
His voice was as empty as his eyes. At last, after so many long years and a few days of realization, there was nothing left. Hopelessly outgunned and the last of the Sanctum ready to protect Yggdrasil.
It was over. He was as good as dead, and Sleipmon and whatever of his children that remained too.
Sleipmon frowned, looking to the cavern’s exit. “When Kappa gets back, we’ll probably have to make a decision. Either we flee, regroup, and try to fight again, or we fight the hopeless battle now.” Sleipmon wasn’t fond of either idea. Once they fled, it’d be nigh-impossible to ever fight back. Both sides would rest, but theirs didn’t stand a chance against the Sovereigns, and what would keep them from destroying Yggdrasil in their absence?
Staying, however, meant their demise. Pure and simple. What was really being considered was when they wished to die.
“Either way, it’s hopeless, isn’t it?” Parasimon replied, his eyes and voice still empty.
With a great effort, his massive legs moved, pulling up and pushing into the ground as he tried to get back to his feet. The cave was large, but only enough for him to crouch as he tried to gain balance, only just enough for that as he teetered about. The black ocean strewn across the cavern rippled as he did so- before it suddenly began to recede towards him, flowing into his legs and pulling the shards of crystal back into his body as it went. Within a few moments, there was only one large black puddle amassed around his crouching form as most of the fluid had been absorbed.
“What do you suggest we do?” He asked quietly, making absolutely no mind to his rank as he spoke to the other Knight, “What do you WANT to do?”
Sleipmon sighed. What did he want to do? He wanted to go back, before all this fighting started, find a way that didn’t end in the loss of his friends and the being he respected most. He wanted to start over, far away from this scorched battlefield in a place where no one, least of all him, would remember the Royal Knights.
“For now, just wait for Kappa. I don’t think there’s much else we can do. He may have gotten help for us.”
He wanted to lie until it felt real and made them both ready to take on the gods themselves.
He knew none of it would happen. But he wanted it to.
Parasimon pondered, for a moment. He just took in Sleipmon’s words, and pondered.
And then, as the last of the black ocean drained into his feet and the crystals disappeared along with it, he decided.
“Find Kappa and Darkdramon and go,” He said in a more resolute tone, as he called his lance and took towards the exit of the cave. If one was to look, crystals gathered around his lance and around the floor as he gripped it and stepped. “That’s an order. I’ll see what I can do with this situation here.”
“Such as getting shot down?” Sleipmon rose to his hooves, the cave barely large enough for him. “You literally woke up about five minutes ago after a battle so draining it somehow turned you into rock candy, and you think you’ll be able to waltz out there and do anything?”
“I can stand my ground, and I can buy time,” Parasimon replied in the same resolute tone, “As the last remaining Knight of the Sanctum, I’m the effective commander of the Royal Knights. I’m the only one of us who has a duty to remain; and I don’t know about you, Sleipmon, but I’m tired. Very, very tired.”
He reached the entrance of the cave, squinting as he stepped into the light.
“I have nowhere left to go, Sleipmon. All I have left to do is make time for Yggdrasil, yourself and the others to make it out. At least it seems I’ll be able to be of some use to someone at long last.”
It was time. He would go and face his death. He was ready.
Sleipmon huffed as he trudged towards the cave entrance. “Think about it, Parasimon. Kappa is expecting us here. If we go, we won’t find him. If he’s not coming back, I can’t move Yggdrasil by myself. If nothing else, we need to wait for Kappa-” It was then that a dot in the sky caught his attention. He blinked and squinted. “Actually, that may be him...” No, the figure was too big. “Now?” It - no, they were getting closer.
And Sleipmon knew who they were.
“Oh. We’re fucked. It doesn’t matter anymore, we’re utterly fucked.”
“Go. Get Kappa and go,” Parasimon said in return, taking his lance and stepping right out of the cave towards the figures in the distance.
Towards Alphamon and Examon.
Towards death.
Figuring some conversation would break the tension between the group a little, Alphamon had attempted to strike one up with some warstories. A couple rounds of Imperialdramon and Omnimon later, the topic had moved into Kappa’s hands.
“Fucker seemed more interested in mouthing off than he did fighting; I mean, hell, I rammed a goddamn spear through his chest and it didn’t shut him up for a second.”
“... The fuck?” Examon asked, having paid attention to the story the moment BlackWarGreymon had cropped up in it at the beginning.
“You’re asking me,” Kappa replied, “Seemed to think he was the next coming of Huanglongmon or something. Either him or his pet meatsack thought he was, anyway; that fucker never shut his mouth either.”
“Fucking Ancients,” Examon muttered as he spat something out to the ground far beneath him, “Fuck them and fuck the Sovereigns.”
“Hear hear,” Kappa replied, before he focused his eyes and peered into the distance again, watching as their destination grew closer.
“Well, here we go,” He called back to Examon and Alphamon, “For real, this time around.”
“It’s about time we finally end this charade. It’s been dragging on for way too long and I’m not exactly fond of long-winded stories,” Alphamon replied, a sense of relief now building up inside.
“It feels like we’ve been here for YEARS. And I feel like half of those were just against fucking Imperialdramon,” Examon groaned in kind.
“Nope, just a day or so. Goddamn fast turnaround for a war, if I say so myself,” Kappa replied too, before he went in to descend, “Then again, I’m technically only a few hours old, so the fuck do I know?”
“On the bright side, at least it’s going to end soon and we all could focus on a different kind of war once the dust settles. Not that I look forward to that, but at least it wouldn’t be as long,” Alphamon chimed in and carefully navigated her way closer to the ground.
--
Kappa was taking a long time. An awfully long time. Sleipmon had already begun to consider trying to find Kappa himself on the off-chance that he had been obliterated. He looked to Parasimon - or maybe what was left of Parasimon at this point. Kappa seemed convinced he could be salvaged. After that fight, Sleipmon doubted it. Even the more powerful Knights would be dead and Parasimon was a bit of a mistake in the first place.
Something cracked. A sudden, sharp sound that Sleipmon only noticed since he so on edge.
“dijvouerhpbuhwepuvpiybiyyvouv.”
The incomprehensible noise reverberated outwards amongst the sounds of cracking, at first faint, and then increasingly higher and higher pitched as the cracking sounds began to die down a little.
Across the surface of the crystalline mass nearby Sleipmon, thousands of millions of hairline fractures could be seen to web out. The process paused, as the incomprehensible noise rose in pitch and the sounds of cracking became more and muted, before it paused entirely. The cracking sounds faded out entirely, and the noise grew to the highest pitch before stopping very abruptly.
The crystal seemed frozen in time and space, and so did everything around it.
The surface shimmered, suddenly and in a way that broke the sense of cessation around it.
And then it ruptured outwards in one single instance that coated the cave with black slime and glistening shards of crystal.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH,” the wriggling mass of black flesh and sinew that had been within the crystal shrieked, in a voice that was at first high-pitched and demonic before it descended into a deeper, lower tone of pain and rage, as it was exposed to the world around it.
Four gigantic arms twitched like those of a newborn baby as Parasimon found himself far from where he had fought BanchoLeomon, as he laid on the stone floor of the cavern with his senses torn asunder. His many eyes blinked, his jaws swung wide open in a large arc before closing suddenly. The process repeated several times until his breath became stable, and he closed his eyes.
He coughed several times, fluid leaking out of his jaws as he did so. He took in another deep breath, before-
“Wh-where the hell am I?” He thought aloud, still barely cognizant of his surroundings aside from the basic fact he had been moved as he lay on the floor of the cavern.
“Still among the living. Which Demon Lord did you piss off, you can’t even die?” Sleipmon kept his tone light, even if he was certain that his shock at Parasimon’s miraculous revival was plain on his face. He glanced at the black slime dripping off his arm plate and flicked it off as best he could. Good thing he had Red Digizoid, he decided as he looked at the crystalline splinters embedded into the cavern walls.
Parasimon didn’t even bother with a sharp reply- his senses were returning, but there was nowhere near enough presence of mind in him to do anything more except comprehend that he was alive and that Sleipmon was here. He blinked several more times, at that point becoming conscious that he had eyes again. His memory was clearing up, and he also became conscious of the fact that they’d melted right out of his skull from being exposed to the sheer heat of Brahmastra Kundala.
Brahmastra Kundala. BanchoLeomon. That bullshit gigantic energy beam that he’d been blasted with. Resolution. Determination. Life. Death.
It all hit Parasimon out of nowhere with the force of the explosion his clash with BanchoLeomon had created.
“... What even HAPPENED?!?” He asked with a deep gurgling groan as his memory flooded back into his head, as the sudden shock jump-started the return of his faculties and made him at least partly cognizant once more.
“Ok. So crystals fix your eyes. Not your brains. Got it.” Sleipmon wracked his own, trying to figure out the best way to fill in Parasimon on the events he’d missed and how to tactfully explain to him that Imperialdramon, along with a Parasi-spawn, had gotten blasted to egg-sized data chunks by the combined might of Alphamon, Examon, Dynasmon, MirageGaogamon, Dukemon, and Seraphimon. “So, first thing. After you became a crystal, Kappa saved you from being smashed by Bancholeomon. That’s probably a thing you should know.” And from there, Sleipmon recapped the events leading up to the end of the massive battle.
“... We’re the only two left,” Was Parasimon’s only response, after a long, pregnant pause. He’d stopped blinking now, and his eyes were wide open and empty as he stared up at the ceiling of the cave, “The only two left, and against the Sovereigns.”
His voice was as empty as his eyes. At last, after so many long years and a few days of realization, there was nothing left. Hopelessly outgunned and the last of the Sanctum ready to protect Yggdrasil.
It was over. He was as good as dead, and Sleipmon and whatever of his children that remained too.
Sleipmon frowned, looking to the cavern’s exit. “When Kappa gets back, we’ll probably have to make a decision. Either we flee, regroup, and try to fight again, or we fight the hopeless battle now.” Sleipmon wasn’t fond of either idea. Once they fled, it’d be nigh-impossible to ever fight back. Both sides would rest, but theirs didn’t stand a chance against the Sovereigns, and what would keep them from destroying Yggdrasil in their absence?
Staying, however, meant their demise. Pure and simple. What was really being considered was when they wished to die.
“Either way, it’s hopeless, isn’t it?” Parasimon replied, his eyes and voice still empty.
With a great effort, his massive legs moved, pulling up and pushing into the ground as he tried to get back to his feet. The cave was large, but only enough for him to crouch as he tried to gain balance, only just enough for that as he teetered about. The black ocean strewn across the cavern rippled as he did so- before it suddenly began to recede towards him, flowing into his legs and pulling the shards of crystal back into his body as it went. Within a few moments, there was only one large black puddle amassed around his crouching form as most of the fluid had been absorbed.
“What do you suggest we do?” He asked quietly, making absolutely no mind to his rank as he spoke to the other Knight, “What do you WANT to do?”
Sleipmon sighed. What did he want to do? He wanted to go back, before all this fighting started, find a way that didn’t end in the loss of his friends and the being he respected most. He wanted to start over, far away from this scorched battlefield in a place where no one, least of all him, would remember the Royal Knights.
“For now, just wait for Kappa. I don’t think there’s much else we can do. He may have gotten help for us.”
He wanted to lie until it felt real and made them both ready to take on the gods themselves.
He knew none of it would happen. But he wanted it to.
Parasimon pondered, for a moment. He just took in Sleipmon’s words, and pondered.
And then, as the last of the black ocean drained into his feet and the crystals disappeared along with it, he decided.
“Find Kappa and Darkdramon and go,” He said in a more resolute tone, as he called his lance and took towards the exit of the cave. If one was to look, crystals gathered around his lance and around the floor as he gripped it and stepped. “That’s an order. I’ll see what I can do with this situation here.”
“Such as getting shot down?” Sleipmon rose to his hooves, the cave barely large enough for him. “You literally woke up about five minutes ago after a battle so draining it somehow turned you into rock candy, and you think you’ll be able to waltz out there and do anything?”
“I can stand my ground, and I can buy time,” Parasimon replied in the same resolute tone, “As the last remaining Knight of the Sanctum, I’m the effective commander of the Royal Knights. I’m the only one of us who has a duty to remain; and I don’t know about you, Sleipmon, but I’m tired. Very, very tired.”
He reached the entrance of the cave, squinting as he stepped into the light.
“I have nowhere left to go, Sleipmon. All I have left to do is make time for Yggdrasil, yourself and the others to make it out. At least it seems I’ll be able to be of some use to someone at long last.”
It was time. He would go and face his death. He was ready.
Sleipmon huffed as he trudged towards the cave entrance. “Think about it, Parasimon. Kappa is expecting us here. If we go, we won’t find him. If he’s not coming back, I can’t move Yggdrasil by myself. If nothing else, we need to wait for Kappa-” It was then that a dot in the sky caught his attention. He blinked and squinted. “Actually, that may be him...” No, the figure was too big. “Now?” It - no, they were getting closer.
And Sleipmon knew who they were.
“Oh. We’re fucked. It doesn’t matter anymore, we’re utterly fucked.”
“Go. Get Kappa and go,” Parasimon said in return, taking his lance and stepping right out of the cave towards the figures in the distance.
Towards Alphamon and Examon.
Towards death.
As the flash of intense light blasted throughout the room, Beatrice instinctively moved her hands to cover her eyes; she could do without losing her corneas before the fucking war even started, after all.
For a few moments, she stood there as the light raged.
And then she froze as it abruptly faded and left a loud crashing sound and a piercing, feminine scream in its wake.
That certainly didn't sound good.
She opened her eyes, lowered her arms.
And stared at the pitiful sight before her.
A young woman writhing in the ground in absolute agony, her body seemingly broken at random intervals with hot, fresh, coppery blood seeping out of her.
For once, Beatrice paused in shock, not knowing quite what to do; had she botched the summoning? Was this girl's state her doing? What the fuck?
A few moments passed, and Beatrice remained paused; and then the girl began to crawl towards her, before pulling herself up into a respectful kneel.
She spoke, confirming that she was indeed the Servant she meant to summon; Beatrice gathered herself and prepares to reply-
Before the girl collapsed again, and stayed down this time.
Again, Beatrice paused.
And then she just sighed.
"Look, before anything, let's get you fixed up. Can't fight a war with a broken weapon, sweetie," She said, in a tone that was a mix of both care and slight condescending teasing, as she reached down and placed her arms beneath those of her Servant's, lifting her armoured upwards with surprising ease.
A moment later, Saber was laid across one of the tables in the cellar; the tools that had been strewn across it a moment before carelessly wiped onto the floor by her Master, who took a deep before seeming to focus on something unseen. Something invisible.
Looking at her invalid Servant, Beatrice placed her hands together, before igniting the Od within her; and as she began to chant, a faint green glow of reparation began to envelop Saber.
For a few moments, she stood there as the light raged.
And then she froze as it abruptly faded and left a loud crashing sound and a piercing, feminine scream in its wake.
That certainly didn't sound good.
She opened her eyes, lowered her arms.
And stared at the pitiful sight before her.
A young woman writhing in the ground in absolute agony, her body seemingly broken at random intervals with hot, fresh, coppery blood seeping out of her.
For once, Beatrice paused in shock, not knowing quite what to do; had she botched the summoning? Was this girl's state her doing? What the fuck?
A few moments passed, and Beatrice remained paused; and then the girl began to crawl towards her, before pulling herself up into a respectful kneel.
She spoke, confirming that she was indeed the Servant she meant to summon; Beatrice gathered herself and prepares to reply-
Before the girl collapsed again, and stayed down this time.
Again, Beatrice paused.
And then she just sighed.
"Look, before anything, let's get you fixed up. Can't fight a war with a broken weapon, sweetie," She said, in a tone that was a mix of both care and slight condescending teasing, as she reached down and placed her arms beneath those of her Servant's, lifting her armoured upwards with surprising ease.
A moment later, Saber was laid across one of the tables in the cellar; the tools that had been strewn across it a moment before carelessly wiped onto the floor by her Master, who took a deep before seeming to focus on something unseen. Something invisible.
Looking at her invalid Servant, Beatrice placed her hands together, before igniting the Od within her; and as she began to chant, a faint green glow of reparation began to envelop Saber.
... Why are you posting in this thread? We're not accepting, I said this last time.
If you're looking for an RP, go to the interest checks. If you just want to talk about shit, go to the non-roleplaying section.
If you're looking for an RP, go to the interest checks. If you just want to talk about shit, go to the non-roleplaying section.
The Butcher's Shop was located in one of the nicer districts in Septum, in one that was nice and quiet at this time of night. Only the sound of cars passing disturbed the otherwise peaceful serenity of the street, and the shop itself was the only one that seemed to be active, with a light visible from the window.
Which was odd, seeing as the owners were away on holiday for a few weeks.
Deep down in the basement of the shop, in the freezing cold old stone cellar filled with plastic-wrapped meat and bloodstained tools, a young woman stood over a large, intricately drawn symbol; her hands coated in the same thick, coppery blood that was splattered across the stone floor as the magical circle before her.
She could have done this in the safety of her own hotel room, and paid off the owners to not ask questions, but she'd happened across the shop a few days prior whilst collecting supplies; with only a little bit of effort, she'd got into the shop and confirmed the existance of a basement suitable to her needs. Thus, she'd found a suitable location without the need to cause any trouble for herself or that nice old couple running that huge hotel; she'd set up a temporary workshop in the basement on the day she found it, and by the time she'd arrived an hour earlier it was fully suitable to her needs.
The circle was drawn- the butcher had leftover chicken's blood in the cooler, conveniently enough for the ritual she had in mind- and the catalyst, a rusty old sword, was jammed into the floor dead in the center of that circle. Only one last touch was needed before it was complete, and then she'd only have to wait for midnight.
Her breath coalescing into fog in the cold of the room, she reached over to the table and picked up a syringe- the chicken's blood would be sufficient enough for the body of the circle, but she wouldn't stop there; she'd leave nothing to chance and complete the circle with some of her own.
Her right forearm was ready; a tight band wrapped around it to limit the flow of blood, she pushed the needle deep into it without hesitation, only wincing slightly as she felt it go through her skin and as she pulled the blood into the syringe. Depositing that into the small pot nearby, it only took a few more minutes to add the details to the circle with the fluids; and soon enough, the witching hour came.
Calling out an incantation to heal the puncture, the woman pulled her sleeve back down over her forearm and put down her tools; it was time.
She didn't know why, but the Grail had deemed her worthy of participating in a war of Kings, Heroes and Gods; and for all the world, she couldn't wait to begin. As much as she didn't know why she'd been granted command seals by the resurgent wish-granter, she would not question it; for her, the war itself was the reward, and the promise of a wish for the victor only a bonus.
The nearby clock struck twelve, letting out an electronic whine.
Grinning, she reached out her arm and began to chant aloud as the circle before her erupted into life.
"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).
Repeat five times, shatter once filled.
... I announce.
Your body is bequeathed to me, my body and fate lies in the balance of your sword.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by these terms, this reason- then answer me.
Here is my oath. I am the one who shall become all the good of the world, and I am the one who shall lay out all the evil of the world.
You, seven heavens clad in the words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"
And the room was filled with light as Beatrice Edelfelt's Servant was borne into this world.
Which was odd, seeing as the owners were away on holiday for a few weeks.
Deep down in the basement of the shop, in the freezing cold old stone cellar filled with plastic-wrapped meat and bloodstained tools, a young woman stood over a large, intricately drawn symbol; her hands coated in the same thick, coppery blood that was splattered across the stone floor as the magical circle before her.
She could have done this in the safety of her own hotel room, and paid off the owners to not ask questions, but she'd happened across the shop a few days prior whilst collecting supplies; with only a little bit of effort, she'd got into the shop and confirmed the existance of a basement suitable to her needs. Thus, she'd found a suitable location without the need to cause any trouble for herself or that nice old couple running that huge hotel; she'd set up a temporary workshop in the basement on the day she found it, and by the time she'd arrived an hour earlier it was fully suitable to her needs.
The circle was drawn- the butcher had leftover chicken's blood in the cooler, conveniently enough for the ritual she had in mind- and the catalyst, a rusty old sword, was jammed into the floor dead in the center of that circle. Only one last touch was needed before it was complete, and then she'd only have to wait for midnight.
Her breath coalescing into fog in the cold of the room, she reached over to the table and picked up a syringe- the chicken's blood would be sufficient enough for the body of the circle, but she wouldn't stop there; she'd leave nothing to chance and complete the circle with some of her own.
Her right forearm was ready; a tight band wrapped around it to limit the flow of blood, she pushed the needle deep into it without hesitation, only wincing slightly as she felt it go through her skin and as she pulled the blood into the syringe. Depositing that into the small pot nearby, it only took a few more minutes to add the details to the circle with the fluids; and soon enough, the witching hour came.
Calling out an incantation to heal the puncture, the woman pulled her sleeve back down over her forearm and put down her tools; it was time.
She didn't know why, but the Grail had deemed her worthy of participating in a war of Kings, Heroes and Gods; and for all the world, she couldn't wait to begin. As much as she didn't know why she'd been granted command seals by the resurgent wish-granter, she would not question it; for her, the war itself was the reward, and the promise of a wish for the victor only a bonus.
The nearby clock struck twelve, letting out an electronic whine.
Grinning, she reached out her arm and began to chant aloud as the circle before her erupted into life.
"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone.
The alighted wind becomes a wall. The gates in the four directions close, coming from the crown, the three-forked road that leads to the kingdom circulate.
Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill). Shut (fill).
Repeat five times, shatter once filled.
... I announce.
Your body is bequeathed to me, my body and fate lies in the balance of your sword.
In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by these terms, this reason- then answer me.
Here is my oath. I am the one who shall become all the good of the world, and I am the one who shall lay out all the evil of the world.
You, seven heavens clad in the words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"
And the room was filled with light as Beatrice Edelfelt's Servant was borne into this world.
Alright, time for Charlotte's Master; pre-approved by Gnar, only going up now because the sister sheet's finished.
Sorry, put myself on invisible mode this morning for some reason; dunno why, must have been a misclick. And Titanpad or Gmail works, I guess~
Yo, I see I missed a shitstorm.
@Tatsua
Whilst you're here, thought I'd say; Beatrice got approved, just waiting on Psyker to finish his sheet before posting her. I'm gonna start work on an opening post soon-ish, but do you have any preferred means of collab'ing?
@Tatsua
Whilst you're here, thought I'd say; Beatrice got approved, just waiting on Psyker to finish his sheet before posting her. I'm gonna start work on an opening post soon-ish, but do you have any preferred means of collab'ing?
Alright, that's helpful, thanks.
Further question; would it be possible for a Servant to be summoned outside of Septum?
Further question; would it be possible for a Servant to be summoned outside of Septum?
If Unending is the ghost in the machine does that mean me and RBY are the guys who periodically whack the machine when it's not working?
© 2007-2026