@Geyter I'm interested in this. I have a character from an old MHA RP I'd like to use.
As far as motivations go, shaking up the current hero and justice system, at least in Japan, is something that would work. Though I think something less like Stain's ideology and more just aiming to bring the whole system crashing down would appeal to me more.
However, all of the characters are 100% human at the beginning. Any mutations that happen will happen in story as you come across methods if that is what you desire.
Will our characters still look exactly the same as they did when they died, minus any injuries obviously, or like themselves at their peak or like something new entirely? From the sounds of it Doc wants to make a character who had a small genetic mutation in life, heterochromia or something like that, that would carry over to this new world.
I'm also asking because I was kind of intending on making a character who died of illness and was wondering how this would affect them in their new life. If they were in bad health, having been bed ridden for a while before dying, would they still be weak and sickly when they were reborn? If someone died of old age would they appear old in this world or like their younger selves?
Spell cast canceled due to lack of MP. You have overdrawn your MP. You are experiencing Mana Burn. Natural MP Recovery decreased by 50%. External MP Recovery decreased by 25%. You have no MP Remaining.
Oberon fell back onto the tree branch as the orb shattered, the spell breaking apart in his hands and disappearing as he was hit by a sudden wave of fatigue and yet another headache. It would seem that he was a little too early to try something like that yet; he’d had a feeling it was ambitious to try and create an elemental when he was still a relatively weak being in this world, but he just couldn’t help but want to try and put his ideas into practise.
And it had been working for a moment there, he was sure of it. The rings around the orb and the spokes, the spinning, not to mention the fact that the entire structure had gotten more complex with each passing word. His chant had been doing something, his spell had been doing something, but he’d run out of mana before he could finish. He would have to wait until he reached a higher level and increased his mana reserves before he tried again, or perhaps find a way to restore his mana as he was performing the ritual; he just wished he knew how close he had been at the end.
When the spell had broken apart a number of system messages had appeared in front of his eyes, which he focused on now. He had two new skills, which was useful; first he has the Spell Chant skill that he was trying to emulate alongside a skill that let him focus in order to increase the power of a spell. Both skills would certainly be useful, especially Spell Chant, but at their current level they took far too long to use, especially Focus; 30 seconds to empower a spell was ridiculous just to save a little mana, in fact he could probably restore the extra mana it would cost to use the higher level version of a spell in less time. Spell Chant was better and let him modify more than just the power of a spell; at 10 seconds it still wasn’t useable in combat but it would be very interesting to see what kind of modifications he could create with it.
The other message informed him that he had a status called Mana Burn. It wasn’t surprising given just how much power he had poured into that experiment that he would suffer some backlash from it. The fact his mana regeneration was slowed by the effect was a pain, and he could guess that the best way to recover from it was to not use any mana as well meaning he was all but done with experiments for the day. At the moment the Sprite was tired enough that this thought didn’t bother him overly much; right now all he wanted to do was sleep anyway.
He wanted to fall asleep right where he was, laying down on the branch of a tree high above the forest floor and with the sun shining directly onto him, but the idea of being exposed to anything and everything that could fly but a damper on that. He picked himself up and began flying back down to the ground, descending one branch at a time lest his tired wings give out on him. Once he was back on solid ground he headed straight for the shelter, passing by Ash and Reoth before finding the place he had slept the night before and collapsing.
Before he passed out he wanted to check one thing however. If he had been on the right track with his experiment then he should have something to show for it in his skills, even if it was still incomplete. "Open Skills tab.”
Once he had read over the information the system gave him, Oberon fell asleep.
Fly back to ground level Return to shelter Open Skills tab Sleep
The arrows inside Berserker’s body ignited. One by one the silver burst into flames that began to consume the Servant’s body, burning away at his flesh and his essence until the magic within them was spent. The arrows in his back and his chest and his stomach hollowed him out, destroying organs and searing flesh and leaving nothing behind but his heart. The arrow in his bicep burned away until there was nothing joining his shoulder to his elbow and the remains of Berserker’s arm fell to the ground to join the rest of the ash. Flames poured forth from his mouth and out of the wounds in his skin, great gouts of magical fire that illuminated the surrounding area.
At yet he survived. His skill Unwounded kept him alive, his heart still beating and his muscles still tense, and his Regeneration meant that even now his body was beginning to repair itself, even if there was not much left to repair. His warrior spirit still shone within his eyes, his roar didn’t abate and his Noble Phantasm continued to rain weapons on his enemies. He body was damaged beyond repair and he was too weak to fight, but he remained.
The Command Seal given to him by his Master, the surge of mana flooded through his body and pushed his strength and his resolve to new heights. It also accelerated his healing abilities and his body quickly sought to make Berserker whole again, the wounds in his chest and back closing over as new organs were grown to fill the hollow recesses of his chest, the strength returning to Berserker’s limbs as the mana pumping through him was put to work. Only his missing arm wasn’t restored, the limb lost forever or at least for as long as this war lasted.
As Rider summoned her palace one of its structures rose up out of the ground beneath Berserker’s feet, slamming into him from below and raising him high up into the air as he rode the building’s ascent. When the structure stopped rising Berserker found himself high above the plaza, looking down at the ground below where his arm and other club still lay, and with a better angle to see the remaining archer and Caster on another rooftop around the plazas edge.
As Berserker’s eyes fell on Manco and the archer something like a glint of recognition flickered in the mad warrior’s eyes, most likely triggered by the bow and silver arrows the archer still held. Raising his club in the air, Berserker let out yet another yell as he poured all of the excess mana he had into his Noble Phantasm, diverting it away from his regeneration in order to focus on offence. The weapons continuing to rain down all over the plaza suddenly ceased, no longer falling randomly onto the roof or Rider’s palace or inside the hotel lobby where Assassin presumably still hid, and instead every weapon that fell now fell on top of Caster’s head. Not only that, but with the extra mana of the Command Seal being fed into it the weapons fell faster and harder, no longer just falling but being thrown down at the earth from the heavens above.
It didn’t stop there however. Rearing back with his raised club Berserker swung his one remaining arm forward with as much force as he could muster, letting go of the indestructible Noble Phantasm and letting it fly straight as an arrow towards the legendary Magus.
Now deprived of his sole weapon, Berserker leapt down from the top of the structure to land in the plaza and stomped over to where his lost arm lay, now partially obscured by snow falling from Rider’s Noble Phantasm. Planting a foot on the wrist of the lost limb he reached down and wrenched the second club from his own dead fingers. Standing upright, Berserker looked around the plaza and found it deserted; all of the bystanders from the concert were either dead or hidden away inside Rider’s palace, meanwhile Caster and his one remaining archer were contending with his rain of weapons above and Assassin was inside the hotel, neither Servant visible from where Berserker currently stood. The only thing the Servant could see were the doors to the Winter Palace, the fortress Rider had summoned to protect herself and the remaining civilians from harm.
Berserker charged the doors of the palace, stabbing his club forward like a lance to try and break through the barrier.
Ryuhei could do nothing but stand by as the barrage of energy blasts fired down on Dyce from the two fighters above. Once they had left the city, Ryuhei and another martial artist chasing Dyce as he fled, they had been cut off by an older man who then proceeded to hammer the alien into the ground with columns of concussive force. As they got closer the fighter who had followed Ryuhei rushed over to him, calling out in panic towards what was apparently his master before joining in with attacks of his own.
Whatever they were doing it certainly seemed effective, but the tone of the other fighter’s voice had him worried, as did the strain in the old man’s shouts that grew more pained with each attack. For some reason the repeated ki blasts felt less like a finishing blow and more like a desperate last stand.
As he watched another person approached from the city. As he got closer Ryuhei recognised as the young man in the red robe and cloak who had been fighting Dyce as he arrived. Using the alien’s current predicament as an opening, the young man charges up a large attack that detonated over Dyce in an explosion of green light, interrupting the repeated blasts of the other student and master and hopefully putting a stop to this once and for all.
Without a ranged attack of his own there was nothing Ryuhei could do for now, nothing he could contribute. All he could do was wait and see what the outcome of these attacks were and be ready to strike at close range should Dyce still be standing.
Berserker’s first swing missed, his clubs striking the ground with enough force to cause a small eruption of stone and dirt but both missing their target entirely. His eyes tracked the discarded human shield first, the cadaver flopping to the side and rolling across the ground as Assassin used it as a spring board, before turning to face the direction the other Servant had fled in time to feel the small calibre rounds peppering his chest and arms. The bullets fired from Assassin’s pistol either glanced off hardened muscles or sank into Berserker’s flesh, but in either case left no visible wound that the eye could see and Berserker himself seemed unbothered by the assault; if Assassin could see how little she had achieved she would surely be demoralised by it and find her attacks even less effective next time.
The Servant continued to fire at Berserker even as she crashed through one of the few remaining windows at the front of the hotel. Still howling and snarling the mad warrior tensed up as he prepared to leap after her, only to pause when he felt something strike him from behind. As Berserker turned around it would have been possible for those inside the hotel to see the pair of silver arrows sticking out from his back, the Servant raising his head to look at the rooftop the arrows had come from as three more struck his chest and one pinned itself in his left bicep. Though they clearly had managed to pierce his skin no blood dripped from the wounds, no pain appeared on Berserker’s face and much like the bullets that preceded them they seemed to achieve nothing.
Before he could be pin-cushioned any more than he already had Berserker raised his clubs and used them to shield himself, positioned them in the way of any incoming arrows or simply striking them from the air. Blocking attacks from six archers firing from five vantage points was difficult even for a sane warrior however, let alone a mad beast and several arrows managed to get past his clubs and pierce him; these arrows didn’t seem to sink as deeply into his flesh as the first did, as if the bows or archers that fired them had somehow gotten weaker after the first volley.
It seemed Berserker’s hardship was not yet over however as yet another Servant appeared in the plaza and opened fire, a single musket shot slipping between his swinging clubs to strike him in the sternum. The round breached the skin much like Assassin’s had earlier, but no blood issues forth, no visible wound remained and Berserker himself barely even seemed to notice the attack as he continued to parry as many arrows as he could.
Rearing back his head Berserker finally seemed to have had enough punishment as he let loose the loudest roar yet, shouting his rage to the sky above even as more arrows embedded themselves in his body. Above the plaza something began to form, a shimmering layer of air like a heat haze appearing just below the clouds until a moment later every manner of weaponry imaginable began to rain from the sky. All over the plaza, on the rooftops of nearby buildings, even inside the hotel lobby weaponry and armour of all kinds, spears, sword, axes, helmets, shields; every weapon and every item burned in tribute on Berserker’s funeral pyre, began to fall out of the shimmering air as Berserker unleashed his Noble Phantasm on his opponents, his Master’s puppets, the bystanders, even himself.
Amidst the chaos he had brought forth Berserker leapt towards the closest opponent to him, which at this moment happened to be Rider circling the plaza on her horse. Throwing himself in front of the charging steed Berserker reared back with his right arm and swung his club to kill the mount as soon as the other Servant was close enough.
“If I am to play a part in your plans I need to know what they are, that is all.”
Despite his Master’s confidence Rider kept a watchful eye over the café and the street outside as Kazamyr ate. While launching an attack in the middle of the day and in front of so many witnesses would be anathema to most Magus, it didn’t take a tactical genius to realise that there was much merit to attacking an opponent when they felt safest; there were any number of more subtle or mundane ways of striking at a vulnerable Magus that wouldn’t expose the Holy Grail War to the public.
Fortunately they made it through breakfast in one piece and the two began to make the journey to the public library by public transport. “It’s hard to make any kind of guess when we don’t know anything about our remaining opponents. I would have expected more aggression from the Knight Classes or Berserker, but things have been fairly quiet. I take it your familiars haven’t found anything else? Tell me more about the Caster you saw last night.”
“Moving too slowly will also get us killed Archer. I can’t begin my preparations proper until I can at least find out what our enemies look like; so far I’m limited to making a simple poppet of the Church’s representative, which will hardly win us the war.”
Thomas carried two cups of tea back from the kitchen and placed one in front of Archer; taking the second he returned to his seat and went back to shaping the wax, now working on the finer details. The paper apparently had no information of note to give them, but just to be sure he would check it over himself later; if nothing else it would give him something to do while they waited for nightfall.
“Hmm, if you think it’s worthwhile. I daresay it’ll be a better use of your time than staying here. Keep me informed of any developments.”
Quirk demonstrations, great. While Akeno knew that sooner or later there would come a point where everyone was familiar with everyone else’s Quirks, she hadn’t expected that they would be asked to make a public demonstration in front of everyone else before they’d even learned each other’s names. Her Quirk wasn’t the most dynamic or impressive, visually or otherwise, to begin with, meaning if she just went with a basic demonstration of what she could do she’d end up falling far short of the other students.
She needed more time to think of a good way to showcase her abilities before stepping out in front of everyone, so when Goudo-sensei asked for volunteers she was more than happy to let others go first. However, as she watched the other students show off she only became more and more dejected as more and more students outshone anything she could do in return. First there was short, tanned girl who enthusiastically ran forward to demonstrate her Quirk, firing a hail of bullets from her fingers at a dummy in a display that may have lacked accuracy or effectiveness, but was certainly flashy and intimidating. Next up was a girl with two-toned hair who showed off her Quirk by freezing over a bunch of dummies with a cone of ice; an aspiring Symbol of Peace with a former hero father and a Quirk like that? Some people had all the luck.
Next up was a guy with the power to rotate objects, which didn’t sound like much at first but seeing the way he was throwing that dummy around all Akeno could think was how much of a pain it would be to try and fight him hand-to-hand. The girl that followed him put on a basic, if somewhat sarcastic demo of her own Quirk; producing electric trap wires wasn’t as impressive as being a human machine gun or being able to flash freeze people, even if its utility should have been obvious, and Hayakawa Yasu seemed to realise this. She probably had the same thoughts at the start of this as Akeno was having right now; some Quirks just didn’t have the flare that others did.
The next two students went up as a pair which was surprising; had they known each other before today or did they plan this out at short notice? They were both mutant-type Quirks, a dragon and a plant, and they opted to demonstrate their abilities with an impromptu rescue mission, Yutsuko Soga carrying Haruka Fujimori through a simulated disaster zone so that Haruka could pick up the dummy using her vine-like arms. It was impressive if it really was a spur of the moment decision to team up, and showcased not just their Quirks but also their practical skills and teamwork. It really was a step ahead of everything else so far.
It helped her make her decision.
Taking a deep breath, Akeno stood up and walked out onto the floor as the other two returned to the bleachers. She hadn’t thought of anything that could compete with everyone else, after what she’d just seen she didn’t think she could anyway, she just didn’t want to be the last one to volunteer because she’d spent too long trying to think of something, trying too hard not to be the only student who gave a lacklustre demonstration. She couldn’t be afraid to show what she could do, in case people weren’t impressed. She couldn’t be afraid of anything.
Her Quirk wasn’t the best, she knew that. It wasn’t strong or versatile or even all that useful to begin with. Yet she’s managed to make it into Jigokuraku anyway, because her efforts during the exam had been recognised. Maybe the dark-haired guy outside had been right and she was only here because none of the other schools would accept her, but she stood by what she said when she said that this school would become what they made of it; it wasn’t a place for rejects and U.A. drop-outs unless they gave the world a reason to think that. Unless she made people think that.
She stood in front of all of the students, some of whom were paying attention to her while others seemed to have checked out, and bowed to them. “My name is Kudo Akeno. I look forward to having you all as my classmates.” Turning towards the teacher behind the control panel, Akeno reached for the zip on her tracksuit jacket and began to remove it. “Sensei? Do you have any dummies that can record temperature?” The teacher nodded. “Okay. Give me one of those.”
A panel slid open in the middle of the platform and a single dummy was raised into view. Throwing her jacket aside, Akeno then removed her white t-shirt, pulling it over her head to leave her with just a training bra and her tracksuit trousers. She hopped up onto the platform and walked towards the dummy until she was within arm’s reach of it; she then turned towards the rest of the students and began to address them. “My Quirk lets me increase my bodies temperature beyond what a person normally produces, making my skin hot enough to burn anything I come into contact with.” She extended one arm and placed a palm flat against the dummy’s chest and activated her Quirk.
Her skin turned a little bit redder and she began to sweat a little, but otherwise there was no outward sign that she was doing anything at all. However, on the plexiglass barrier between the bleachers and the court a number began to tick upwards as it displayed the temperature the dummy was being subjected to. It rose rapidly into the double digits before slowing as it approached 55 and stopped once it reached 62 degrees Celsius. It occasionally ticked over to 63 before falling back but otherwise seemed steady at this number. Turning her Quirk off and stepped back from the dummy, leaving a small warping in the shape of her hand behind but otherwise not leaving a mark. Akeno turned back to the bleacher again.
“I’ve also been studying Karate for most of my life and I’m pretty confident in my abilities as a martial artist. Sensei, can you have the dummy try and attack me?”
Almost immediately the dummy sprang to life, taking on a basic fighting stance and approaching Akeno. Adopting her own stance, Akeno sized up her ‘opponent’ as it slowly inched towards her. She didn’t have her gloves with her, leaving them in her bag with the rest of her stuff before the assembly, which meant she wouldn’t be able to use many punches this time around; a quick showcase of a few different kicks would be best then. Stepping forward and closing the distance before the dummy could react, Akeno lashed out with a roundhouse kick, her foot travelling in an arc to impact with the side of the dummy. The dummy bent from the force of the kick, folding over as Akeno backed away and waited for it to right itself.
When it had recovered it began to approach her again, moving faster this time, and threw a straight punch at her head. Akeno batted the attack away with the back of her hand and threw a straight punch of her own at the dummy’s chest, her fist making a wonderfully heavy sound as it hit and pushed the dummy back. Using the space this gave her Akeno raised her knee and whipped her lower leg up in a snap kick at the dummy’s jaw, its head recoiling back as the ball of Akeno’s foot met its chin and won. The dummy staggered back a couple steps, giving Akeno even more room and the chance to try out something a little special.
Taking a step forward Akeno tucked her right shoulder down, falling forward as if she was about to perform a roll only to instead launch herself off the ground and bring her extended leg around as she flipped towards the dummy. Her heel crashed against the side of the dummy’s head and sent it slumping to the ground as Akeno successfully landed the wheel kick. Picking herself up off of the ground, breathing a little heavier now from fighting so soon after using her Quirk with no time to cool down, Akeno turned around and walked away from the dummy as it slowly picked itself up again.
“I’ve also been learning wrestling for the past two years. I’m not that good yet but I’m sure what I’ve learned will be useful.”
As the dummy got back to its feet Akeno spun towards it and dashed in its direction, dropping to her knees and sliding past it when she got close as she wrapped an arm around its waist. Coming to a stop behind the dummy, Akeno grabbed the arm around her opponents waist with her other arm and locked them tightly in place. Still on her knees, Akeno lifted the dummy slightly off the ground before leaning back until her shoulders touched the ground, arching her back into a bridge and slamming the captive dummy’s head and shoulders into the platform.
Letting go of the dummy and rolling out from under it, Akeno pushed herself back to her feet and hopped down from the platform. She picked up her jacket and t-shirt from the floor but didn’t put them back on yet so that she could cool down. Before returning to the bleachers she stopped before all of the students again and gave another bow. “Let’s all work together to make the best out of our time here.”
With everything she had wanted to do and say out of the way Akeno returned to the bleachers and sat down, making sure to pick a spot a little bit away from everyone else so that they wouldn’t notice how sweaty she was.
Akeno watches the other demonstrations and is a little worried about not being able to compete with everyone else She decides to stop overthinking it and just go for it and do what she can She demonstrates her Quirk by heating up a dummy. Her output maxes out as 62-63 degrees Celsius She then demonstrates her karate with a serious of different kicks and then demonstrates her wrestling by suplexing the dummy
Berserker appeared at his ‘Masters’ side the instant the command was spoken, the Servant having been waiting in the wings in spirit form for this exact moment; it was unclear just how much of the plan he had understood, when Katherine had told her Servant to stand guard over the bewitched Magus, to be the trap that would snap closed over any unwitting mouse that took their bait, but he seemed to be playing his part for now.
The Viking held himself much as he had upon being summoned, standing calm and alert as he gripped his clubs and his eyes swept over the hotel lobby and the plaza outside; he seemed uncaring, or perhaps unaware, of the carnage taking place only a short distance away from him, separated only by a set of glass fronted doors and a crudely made bounded field. As before the only clue as to his class was the constant tension he held in his muscled frame, the bone crunching grip with which he held his weapon and the intense fury that filled his eyes; an otherwise placid demeanour hiding the barely restrained savagery beneath.
It was only when Berserker’s sweeping gaze landed on the Servant making her way towards the doors of the hotel, pushing a near-dead human shield ahead of her as she closed in on the fake master’s location, that it became clear why this particular hero was summoned as a Berserker.
A transformation overtook Berserker’s face, eyes bulging in their sockets as corded muscles stretched taut in his neck and the Servant let loose a roaring, inarticulate scream of rage. Berserker launched forward, the floor of the hotel lobby shattering beneath his feet as he leapt in a low, long arc towards the lobby’s doors. A second leap as his feet touched the ground carried him through the doors, glass panes shattering and metal frames warping as the Servant burst out into the plaza. The gunmen at the front of the hotel who found themselves in the unfortunate position of being between Berserker and his target were swept aside by a single swing of the large oaken clubs, their bloodied and battered, pulverised bodies thrown to the wayside by the attack.
With everyone nearby either crushed or fleeing from the angry, yelling Viking, there was now a clear path between the two Servants. Berserker wasted no time in engaging, rushing towards Assassin with both clubs raised above his head before bringing them down with as much force as he could muster, aiming to crush both the Servant and her shield in one shot.
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