Paradox Witch

Nameless, Formless and Faceless [Survival/Horror]

The Cutest

ANGELA PUCCINI

Age: 11

Gender: Genderfluid-transabled-apocalyptic-disaster-kin Female

Nickname(s): "Little girl".

Fear(s):

Children Younger Than Her(Minor): She is incapable of calling them Onii/Onee-chan, meaning that she is the Onee-chan in such a situation. Impermissible.

Dolphins(Moderate): You never know what they could be thinking. They're just...there. Watching. Waiting. Commiserating.

Rattling Bones(EXTREME): Clickety-clack, you'd better stay back.

Personality: A bubbly, over-the-top, curious-about-everything, disgustingly innocent little girl. The sort of individual who excitedly points at everything she sees and asks what it is. She is fond of things that are sweet and things that are cute. If one is neither of those things, it is heavily advised that they try their luck elsewhere. She has low compatibility with characters who have tragic pasts or anything of that ilk, as she will belittle their internal monologues constantly without realizing it.
Despite not being Japanese, nor being one who has watched those Satanic Chinese cartoons, she refers to all males older than her as "Onii-chan" and all females older than her as "Onee-chan", or some variant of said title. This is the case even if the individual in question is several decades older than her.
As simple and one-dimensional as a character can be. Most suited to be the roleplay's mascot out of anyone here.

History: First Angela was born. Her mom was pretty cool, she fed Angela food and stuff. Her dad wasn't around a lot, but he did work things so they had the money to feed Angela food and stuff. There was also this older brother guy. He liked to spook her with stories of skeletons. Then he left for university. Fuck that guy. On account of that guy being such a rude dude, Angela has since attempted to find a suitable replacement, and to that end began considering every person older than her as an older sibling candidate. Yes, even her parents.
As an aside, it's worth noting that, as a result of her brother's spooky storytelling, she does not actually believe that everyone has a skeleton inside of them. Were she ever to receive undeniable proof that this is in fact the case, her psyche would be in grave danger.
School was fun because Angela was a happy individual who made many friends. Occasionally someone tried to front with her, but rather than watching her back, Angela would completely fail to realize that said individual was fronting with her.

Example of Person Fronting With Her After She Bumped Into Him in the Hallway

"Watch where you're going!"

"Neh? I was watching where I was going, that's why I bumped into you, because you weren't where I was going. Sorry~"

"You want to go?!"

"Um...yeah! I want to go to where I was going, 'cause that's where I was watching."

"That's not what I mean!"

"Aww, don't talk about yourself like that, you're not mean!"

"That's not what-...okay, just...give me your lunch money, or something."

"W-Wait, do you not have a lunch?! Why didn't you say so earlier?! Everyone, Bobby from Ms. Henderson's class forgot his lunch! Let's all give him a little piece of ours so he can-"

"F-Forget it! I'm going to class!"

So yeah, life's been pretty normal for her.
In the big race at the beginning of the year, Angela beat Bobby from Ms. Henderson's class and took third place. Whoo.

Skills:

Small Child(Physical): A burden of the body and of existence. Angela is capable of persisting for weeks off of only small snack cakes for sustenance, can derive nutrition from such impossible things as cafeteria food, and can fit into small places easily.

Small Child(Mental): A burden of the body and of existence. As a child, her mind is pliable. Thus, while she is easily spooked, she is less easily given PTSD as a result of said spook. Quantity over quality, folks. She is also less easily corrupted by people of the world around her, at the cost of being as naive as possible.

Running: She is the third-fastest runner in her year. Take that, Bobby from Ms. Henderson's class.

Humming: She can hum a mean tune. She cannot actually sing, though.

School Stuff: She can read, write, and do math up to and including long division. Wow!

Other: She carries around a small stuffed cat that she refers to as "Mr. Bear". He is able to fight off four spooks, or twenty mini-spooks in metric terms, singlehandedly.

Nameless, Formless and Faceless [Survival/Horror]

The Cutest

ANGELA PUCCINI

Age: 11

Gender: Genderfluid-transabled-apocalyptic-disaster-kin Female

Nickname(s): "Little girl".

Fear(s):

Children Younger Than Her(Minor): She is incapable of calling them Onii/Onee-chan, meaning that she is the Onee-chan in such a situation. Impermissible.

Dolphins(Moderate): You never know what they could be thinking. They're just...there. Watching. Waiting. Commiserating.

Rattling Bones(EXTREME): Clickety-clack, you'd better stay back.

Personality: A bubbly, over-the-top, curious-about-everything, disgustingly innocent little girl. The sort of individual who excitedly points at everything she sees and asks what it is. She is fond of things that are sweet and things that are cute. If one is neither of those things, it is heavily advised that they try their luck elsewhere. She has low compatibility with characters who have tragic pasts or anything of that ilk, as she will belittle their internal monologues constantly without realizing it.
Despite not being Japanese, nor being one who has watched those Satanic Chinese cartoons, she refers to all males older than her as "Onii-chan" and all females older than her as "Onee-chan", or some variant of said title. This is the case even if the individual in question is several decades older than her.
As simple and one-dimensional as a character can be. Most suited to be the roleplay's mascot out of anyone here.

History: First Angela was born. Her mom was pretty cool, she fed Angela food and stuff. Her dad wasn't around a lot, but he did work things so they had the money to feed Angela food and stuff. There was also this older brother guy. He liked to spook her with stories of skeletons. Then he left for university. Fuck that guy. On account of that guy being such a rude dude, Angela has since attempted to find a suitable replacement, and to that end began considering every person older than her as an older sibling candidate. Yes, even her parents.
As an aside, it's worth noting that, as a result of her brother's spooky storytelling, she does not actually believe that everyone has a skeleton inside of them. Were she ever to receive undeniable proof that this is in fact the case, her psyche would be in grave danger.
School was fun because Angela was a happy individual who made many friends. Occasionally someone tried to front with her, but rather than watching her back, Angela would completely fail to realize that said individual was fronting with her.

Example of Person Fronting With Her After She Bumped Into Him in the Hallway

"Watch where you're going!"

"Neh? I was watching where I was going, that's why I bumped into you, because you weren't where I was going. Sorry~"

"You want to go?!"

"Um...yeah! I want to go to where I was going, 'cause that's where I was watching."

"That's not what I mean!"

"Aww, don't talk about yourself like that, you're not mean!"

"That's not what-...okay, just...give me your lunch money, or something."

"W-Wait, do you not have a lunch?! Why didn't you say so earlier?! Everyone, Bobby from Ms. Henderson's class forgot his lunch! Let's all give him a little piece of ours so he can-"

"F-Forget it! I'm going to class!"

So yeah, life's been pretty normal for her.
In the big race at the beginning of the year, Angela beat Bobby from Ms. Henderson's class and took third place. Whoo.

Skills:

Small Child(Physical): A burden of the body and of existence. Angela is capable of persisting for weeks off of only small snack cakes for sustenance, can derive nutrition from such impossible things as cafeteria food, and can fit into small places easily.

Small Child(Mental): A burden of the body and of existence. As a child, her mind is pliable. Thus, while she is easily spooked, she is less easily given PTSD as a result of said spook. Quantity over quality, folks. She is also less easily corrupted by people of the world around her, at the cost of being as naive as possible.

Running: She is the third-fastest runner in her year. Take that, Bobby from Ms. Henderson's class.

Humming: She can hum a mean tune. She cannot actually sing, though.

School Stuff: She can read, write, and do math up to and including long division. Wow!

Other: She carries around a small stuffed cat that she refers to as "Mr. Bear". He is able to fight off four spooks, or twenty mini-spooks in metric terms, singlehandedly.

Nameless, Formless and Faceless [Survival/Horror]

<Snipped quote by Paradox Witch>

It's not in Vancouver, it's in Not!Vancouver.

@Tatsua Aiisen

Oh, negative*negative=positive, gotcha.

Or is it imaginary*imaginary=real?

Man, I don't know.

Nameless, Formless and Faceless [Survival/Horror]

I have a question for the GM-chan-senpai.

Why is this being set in communist territory? What if communism is my character's trigger fear?

Fate/Red Winter

Carly-Beth
Room 704, New Hangover Hotel, Uptown

---

"Yeah, that'll do." Carly-Beth replied aloud, Master's Clairvoyance filling in the blanks from her partner's self-introduction. "So then, if that's the kinda person you are, let's be nice and efficient."

"So, there's a meeting between the Overseers and all the Mastahs that's set to happen in a bit, but going there is effort, and also I don't really want to reveal my face this early in the game, so I'm sending Jet instead. I'll be looking through his eyes while he's there and we'll know all the info we need to know."

"You can accompa-...eh, actually, no. Some of the other magi are bound to be able to attend the meeting non-personally, like we will, so leaving me all on my lonesome could be a death sentence. Bleh, I knew I should have packed some of those sealing talismans, but that clod of a family head has no idea how these things work. They should just make me head of the family finances, things would be so much smoother then. But anyway, you stay with me. We can go to the top floor and scope out the town. Given your skillset, we'll have to be smart about terrain and ambushes and stuff to bridge the combat gap, so we can start doing some minor prep while the meeting's happening."

"Oh, yeah, if anyone there is cute, I might have Jet offer an alliance to them. If anyone's not cute, we might go murderize them post-prep. I wish Jet had Mystic Eyes, that'd make this so much more efficient, but I guess it's too late for that. Alright, Jet, go to the Church and just do what I tell you. Assassin, keep your concealment up and let's go to the roof." The homunculus said with a slight yawn, starting off to exit the hotel room as Jet Li followed behind.

Fate/Red Winter

"I give you my right. I give you my knowledge. I give you my warning. I give you my dream."

If you will be the one who slayed the great Demon King, then make the utopia that I never could.

"Go forth and be a most splendid king of the world."

There is no need to narrate his life, his journey, his rise, his fall. The mysteries he wielded authority over, the intents he bore, the enemies he fought, the ideals he fought for, it is all pointless.

So then, what is this ritual that causes him to feel pulled away from the blackness?

It is not to summon him. No, this is different. This is transcendentally different.

Shackles imposed upon him, seething chains bound to his essence. He is not the whole, he is merely an inferior shadow cast by the true him. And this shadow is not summoned, but tethered in chain.

Consider what a Heroic Spirit is. These wonderful, dazzling heroes of ages past, they are just thoughts of men turned into something special. They are illusions, the collective sum of mankind's imagination. Thus, all this shadow is, all it can ever be, is the shadow of an illusion formed and maintained by that tool. So then, if this is the crux of that tool, a mere container for those illusions, does it have any real basis?

Do not be taken in so easily. Magi and Heroic Spirits alike, humans of now and of before, have all been taken in by this. That was the natural result, as a sacrificial ritual such as this required such.

Ah, now don't look at me like that. Yes, this ritual's scale is certainly commendable, but that is all. It's just a typical ritual at a large scale, so any miracle it creates will be equally artificial, will be equally mundane.

Oh? You already know? Well, that saves more time, then.

There's no need to worry. Yes, I can see that goal, I can see that "everything" you hold so close. It's childish, but it's built to show people a beautiful thing, so I will extend a hand to help you reach the end of that path. I'll lend you this shadow of mine, but don't be too mean to him, okay? He's just an infant after all, taking his first steps. He won't even recall the books I've read, so you'll have to treat him properly.

Yes, extend your hand. Now here, take him, and start along that path. I'm doing this much for you, the least you can do is be satisfied.

---

Ravana
Middle of Forest, Forest

---

Space bends.

The surrounding world quakes, a shudder running through it as the strain of a spell entering the bounds of rituals imposed itself upon the surroundings. Light is formed, reaching out, stretching its tendrils in greeting as if speaking in a language beyond words, to the skies that housed those it once called "friend".

It is in the center of this light that a figure forms.

It is in the center of this figure that a sound forms.

It is a roar.

It cannot be anything but a roar. It is a bellow that shakes the world every bit as much as the light does. As though sustained by the roar, the light persists, sound and light mingling together. The sound tethers it as its body takes form, as it is brought into this world.

This time, it is not for pain nor desire that this sound exists. It is not to announce the start of the war. It is not to demonstrate that he is no longer He of Ten's Wisdom, but rather that he is He of the Terrifying Roar. None of that sophistry matters at all. Rather, he roars for the simplest reason.

He roars because he roars.

The light fades. The roar fades. The world becomes deafeningly blank in their absence, as he, with his body formed, steps forwards and looks at the girl before him.

She is a falsehood. She is a human. She is a monster.

And just the same, he is a falsehood. He is a human. He is a monster.

This could be the only result. Without an artifact that related the Heroic Spirit to the Master, without an artifact that related the Master to the Heroic Spirit, the only means of assignment among all those points of light in that sea of ether was the basis of compatibility. A monster who was a human. A human who had broken out of the realm of human sense. Knowing that, the man who had emerged from the light looks to the girl who had created the light. A presence of command intersects with a neutral gaze.

"So, you seek to be my Master."

It is a simple statement of observation, nothing more. Not a challenge, not a question, but merely an observation. As he gauges the magus before him, he nods slightly.

The point at the end of this path would not be enough to reach that goal; he knows this without question. A second path would need to be carved from the terminus of the first. So, there is no sense in fighting it, as such a thing is pointless. There is no need to challenge his Master as if under some megalomaniacal lust for control. Just as the Fourfold's consort, he would flow without resistance. In a mere instant, across the link of their mental connection, the man sends the girl knowledge of his "everything". Name, abilities, Noble Phantasms. At least that way there won't be time wasted.

"Very well, then. The contract is complete. I will be the path you use to achieve your goals. In return, at some point during this war, show me something beautiful."

Fate/Red Winter

[Carly-Beth, Room 706, New Hangover Hotel]

Carly-Beth watched as her Servant put on the mask.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

...

Nothing happened.

Letting out a cry of frustration, the homunculus strode forward and plucked the mask back off of Assassin's face before depositing it in her bag once more. "Fuckin' mask-ass mask, if it can't make cool Servant copies then what's the point? Boring boring boring boring boring!" She muttered under her breath, her demeanor now a diametric opposite of how it was mere seconds ago. "'Oh, Carly-Beth, I'm sure our masks are good enough'. I tried to tell him that's not how it works, but noooooooo. He's the family head and I'm just a piece of mud and this mask-ass-mask-ass-mask is-...Jet Li, say something in Chinese angrily!"

At the order of his Master, Jet Li spoke as angrily as he could. "大家好。我姓李，叫李連杰!"

"Shut up! I don't speak Chinese!" Carly-Beth snapped at her familiar before proceeding to pace around the room, a seaweed-haired mask floating a few feet away. "Great. Great. Fan. Tastic. Shinji, I swear that if I hear you say a word right now I am putting your mask underwater until I am satisfied."

"Point me to where I need to go and my bullet will end the lives of your enemies."

After hearing her Servant speak back up, she sighed slightly before voicing a reply through their mental connection. 'I haven't set up a Bounded Field or anything here, so don't say anything of actual relevance out loud. Caster or maybe a particularly good Master could be listening in. Tell me your True Name, all of your skills, and your Noble Phantasm. Once you've done that, we'll go out and start killing people.' She stated dryly, somewhat exasperated her Servant hadn't already done so despite being told to.

"To all the ladies in the place with style and grace, allow me to lace these lyrical-"

"Biggie, I will end you."

"...sorry, boss."

Fate/Red Winter

[Carly-Beth, Room 706, New Hangover Hotel]

Master's Clairvoyance was activated almost immediately after her Servant was summoned, giving the mask freak some insight into her Servant's capacity for battle. Or rather, his lack thereof.

It was just like Papa Toucan always said. "There's no such thing as a cool assassin, unless he knows truly amazing kung-fu."

Oh, Papa Toucan. You will be missed.

Regardless, the Servant she had summoned didn't seem to be a member of the Hassan-i-Sabbah, which was interesting but not interesting enough for her to really inquire a whole lot about it. Times change, and whatnot. In this case, war apparently changes too.

"Hiya Assassin, I'm Carly-Beth."

A few seconds of silence reigned after her introduction, before the mud doll decided to speak again.

"So, I think it'd be really cool if you could activate Presence Concealment and tell me via head-connection all of your abilities, and then since you're Assassin we can go assassinate things. I'm told that assassinating is an Assassin skill."

"Oh, and you don't need to work super hard to get me the Grail. I mean, if you want it, sure, but like, I'm not super duper bothered or anything about it. I guess getting it is the easiest way of not dying though, and dying sounds boring because then I get moved to Model Twelve and twelve is a boring number, so yeah that would be un-fun. So sure, let's get the Grail."

After apparently noticing a detail about the Assassin in front of her, Carly-Beth withdrew a plain white mask from her equipment.

"Oh! Oh! You're wearing a mask! Okay, so take that piece of trash off and try this on! I want to see if something cool happens!" She said excitedly, her eyes sparkling with a sudden enthusiasm as she rocked forwards onto the balls of her feet, tossing the mask at Assassin.

Fate/Red Winter

[Carly Beth, Room 706, New Hangover Hotel]

The doll was an item built to turn things into masks.

The things to be turned into masks could not be mundane, as then they would be mundane masks.

The bruise formed was the preparation of a contract.

The result of that contract would be a situation wrought with "unusual things".

The result of those unusual things in conjunction with the doll would be unusual masks.

Thus, it was only logical for the doll to pursue this contract.

Standing idly before a magic circle, in a hotel room gained through stern eye contact and perhaps something along with the eye contact, was this doll. In this room were crates of various odd things, such as the kind that you, the one behind the screen, would likely take with them on an adventure to the land of communism. Cats and such. You're a cat person, right?

A few scant feet away was a man who appeared almost identical to a now-deceased wushu champion, Jet Li. Of course, as Jet Li was now deceased, this man could not be Jet Li.

"Jet Li, keep watch and punch things if they look like they'll be things that make me say 'ow', or if they look like they'll be things that make me stop saying stuff forever."

It appeared that this man was named "Jet Li" as well. What a hilarious coincidence.

Surely he must be a riot at parties.

And so a ritual likely to knock out an average magus was begun by a doll, under the supervision of a dead actor, a crate of cats, and perhaps a floating mask with fabulous hair.

"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 every five times.

Simply, shatter once filled.

――――I announce.

Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.

In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.

Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.

You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！"

There was little else to say.

Such was life in communist country.

Fate/Red Winter

Yahallo.