Phonic

A Certain Parallel Cosmos

... Idiot Shirogane ...
@CrowsAltV2

(Late post is late.)

“I’ll eat anything you make, Shirogane~! You have not disappointed my pallet with any of your meals thus far!”

Perhaps any other person might have felt the malice of Shirogane’s words, but to someone who had limited hardships after her admission to the Abbey. She was just glad she would be able to eat something great like she always liked.

The howling of the wind.

If anyone was sensitive to “that” feeling, it would be Nero. Or rather, it would be the “invisible” fae dancing along with the muses of Shirogane that those born without that innate sense of the “other” which Nero was blessed [Cursed] with. That fae was the great spirit of the wind, whose power was granted to Nero by contract.

The green, fae-like spirit was a simple being that seemed to be enjoying herself in the winds generated by Shirogane, though Shirogane did not seem to understand that his actions were merely causing joy for that which exists to not be seen.

“Yaaay! The wind is moving fast~! Thanks for the ride, Spiky-hair!”

Truly a simple spirit.

But Nero contracted with the Sylph for a reason. The sovereignty over the wind was seconded to none as a spirit. But it was strange. Spirits tended to avoid things created by humanity. After all, the progress of humans is what caused mystery to no longer prevalent itself upon the world as it had years ago. Therefore, one could consider “progress” the natural enemy of the “World”.

So for a spirit to take a liking to an Esper …

Her mind wavered for a moment, focusing on the “being” that did not exist to anyone else but what she assumed to be herself, staring at what should not be there and away from Shirogane for that moment. However, the man brought her attention back with his words once he began to speak again.

“I mean, you are a very nice person, Shirogane. You do not hesitate to assist those in need, and you always seem happiest when making someone else happy. That is what I noticed about you, at the very least. I think you are a superhero; a great one at that!”

A genuine smile was shimmering on the face of Nero as if the innocent smile of a maiden. The smile of someone who genuinely believed what they were saying was an indisputable truth. Though one might question how a person who had only known Shirogane for but a few days could determine his entire character, Spirits tend to dislike those without pureness in their heart. So the fact that Sylph did not mind “showing” herself in front of Shirogane was enough for Nero to place her trust in him.

… At the very least, that is how she felt until he continued to speak about a certain “incident” that brought the two together in the first place.

Her face shone a bright red all the way up to her ears, blushing a deep scarlet. Her face contorted into some sort of a cross between complete disgust, likely towards both of them, shame, and cringe. An unintelligible garble escaped her mouth as she attempted for the moment to compose herself, failing to do so, and repeating that unintelligible garble until she could finally (poorly) compose her thoughts into words.

“I-If you are going to bully a cute girl like myself, you will never find someone who’d like you, y-you idiot! I hate you!”

It was something that she would rather not talk about. The issue of taking in “others” into the “self” was the same regardless of what one committed themselves to; it would muddy the meaning of “self” and that would transmute itself into “another”. Of course, to someone like Nero, “action” committed was not due to the transformative nature of her power, but rather the requirement of “contracts” in order to “act”.

…And, much to the chagrin of Nero, Shirogane had seen her while she was most vulnerable to her contract.

“I’m mad now,” Nero said, turning her head away from Shirogane and puffing her cheeks. “I take back what I said. You are the worst. An enemy of womankind! Don’t talk to me until you apologize!”

Whispering to herself, Nero continued under her breath in a tone that she didn’t believe Shirogane could make out.

“And just when I gave you a compliment too. Sheesh.”

Nero stormed into the other room of the apartment, rather upset with Shirogane for his actions. Regardless of her position on the matter, it was very unlikely she still did not expect Shirogane to cook, as well as unlikely she would miss a meal.

Such is the life of a homeless vagrant.

A Certain Parallel Cosmos

Waiting for Food in Kuuro’s Apartment!
@CrowsAltV2

“You mean the milk? I threw it out the window! You should pick up more at some point!”

Though it had not reached the expiration date on the package due to a misprint at the factory, those who consumed the milk would likely spend the entire day regretting their choices over a toilet. Nero was not the sort to wish that sort of fate against anyone, even though the primary reason for this benevolence was her own desire to not have Kuuro use the spoiled milk in his cooking.

After all, there was no reason why an act cannot be both selfish and selfless.

Nero, of course, neglected to mention that she had noticed it was expired and likely saved Kuuro from certainly getting sick from the milk. And it wouldn’t even cross her mind to inform him of such a situation, given that he probably already knew.

Regardless of her intent in the matter, her smile seemed to convey a sense of pride in her action, as if she expected Kuuro to praise her, despite likely giving the man the wrong idea. It wouldn’t be too far fetched of an assumption for Kuuro to make that there was some sort of malicious intent if only given her previous record.

“Pork bowl? No idea what that is supposed to be, but if Kuuro is making it, then I’m sure it is going to be tasty!”

Nero knew very little about her “roommate”, but if there was one thing that she understood, it was that Kuuro seemed to have a way of making even the most mundane-sounding dishes into a delicious meal. She was sure that he had to have worked part-time at a restaurant or something, or perhaps it was the changing time and all young boys were this proficient at cooking.

“Who taught you how to cook like this? I think I would die on the street if it weren’t for your meals! When I came here, I tried to get directions from a stranger who asked to borrow my luggage bag before he ran away! He never even came back to return it!”

There was not a lot found within that bag in the eyes of Nero. Just a few changes of clothing into what more resembled a true Sister’s outfit, a few falsified documents from her organization, a map marked in a few locations in Academy City, as well as around 100,000 yen worth of money in the Academy City-style of circulation.

To someone with any shred of common sense, these were not trivial objects to have lost, but to the sheltered Nero, whom of which spent most of her life in the monastery away from the outside world, they held little significance, aside from her change of clothing perhaps.

“You said “Judgement”, though? Aren’t they those police-like guys who go around and protect the city? Are you, like, a superhero or something? Maybe you could get my bag back! Someone asked to borrow it after bumping into me at the port, but after waiting for four hours, he never came back! I thought people were supposed to return things they borrowed!"

Nero’s eyes lit up, only to dim a moment later with what Kuuro had said after.

“...Are you trying to sexually harass me?”

She paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, before continuing, a finger resting itself below her chin and her face contorted into a disgusted expression; The kind of expression one might make after they realize they had stepped in the freshly-made excrement of a dog whose owner is in viewing distance while walking down the street, or the face one might make if one were to see a maggot-infested piece of garbage in a back alley of some shady part of town.

“No, let me rephrase that. 'Are you trying to sexually harass me again?'”

Fate/Blind Logos

Sylvester II

Outside Apartment Workshop on the Top a Building Near said Apartment, Core District

@Unoedipal@ManyThings

---

Lancer had begun his own assault on Sylvester. All Sylvester could think was “finally”. After forcing him to use several of his strengths, it was the least Lancer could do; begin to fight against his opponent in full. Sylvester took the clash, and soon disengaged by “exploding” prana through his arm and blowing both he and Lancer around 10 meters from one another. Glowing within his left hand, the hand that was not armored, power began to explode within him, as if beginning to tap into himself to release what was within him.

“TAKE THIS LANCER. I SHALL END IT HERE!”

“O’ power of men, lend me your strength to defeat those that stand before our desire and salvation.
---INFINITE SILVER DRI-”

Sylvester stopped his proclamation before it had begun. Looking towards his opponent, he sighed to himself, seemingly resigned to what had occurred. Lancer could probably feel it as well. After all, the person who was anchoring him to this world had been killed.

“So that is how it ends, huh? I’m sorry it had to be this way, Lancer. hope we can one day have our rematch in another time and another world. Although I know not who you are, your spearman-ship is second-to-none. If this lowly man can stand up against a hero of your caliber for even a moment, I consider myself honored.”

Sylvester said, a melancholic hold taking place upon his breath. After all, he was a Heroic Spirit. The method for victory was something that he never really considered to have mattered, so long as it was the most efficient path one could take.

Going after the Master would be the most efficient way to defeat a Servant, but for some reason, this circumstance left Rider with a bad taste on his mouth. He did not completely understand why, but he knew he wished this situation would not have ended in such a way.

“I’ll see you later, old man.”

An outstretched hand behind him waved off the person Sylvester considered to be a “worthy adversary”, saluting the man and honoring him in his own, strange way. Like a cowboy riding off into the sunset, Lancer’s dream was over, and only Rider’s remained.

That is what it meant to have a dream of one’s own; one must risk their lives if they wanted to hold the Holy Grail.

His Master knew this fact.

Lancer knew this fact.

Lancer’s Master knew this fact.

But most importantly of all, he knew this fact.

His opponent’s spiritual core was disappearing back into the aether it belonged to. Rider did not need to see the end of his foe. The victory was his. And so, he returned back to his Master.

Lancer’s Master had sunk into “nothing”, and so it was time for the two to make haste.

Fate/Blind Logos

Sylvester II

Outside Apartment Workshop on the Top a Building Near said Apartment, Core District

@Unoedipal@ManyThings

---

The finishing blow.

The one that would have ended this situation and had finished with a victory on the side of Rider never came to fruition. Through clever actions and a more-than-tactical retreat, Lancer was able to keep his abdomen from splitting open with the fires of a phantasmal beast attached to a man’s hand.

“Get back here Lancer! Master, I shall chase down this foe, but be careful!”

The first action that Rider did in response to Lancer was knocking away the trash can that was flying towards him into the air, and while the majority of the trash might be in orbit at this point, a few pieces of trash fell upon Rider. And with a disgusted grimace by both him and (presumably) his wife, he threw that trash off of his, according to Sylvester, “super cool trench coat”, and began to chase his enemy in full.

It was in a single leap that Sylvester was able to make the jump from his location to his opponent’s. In terms of total speed, his opponent might be faster, but Sylvester was certain he would have the upper hand when it came to bursts. After all, he had outrun a Moorish flying carpet for several days when escaping back to Christian Europe. He was certain that his former mentor would kill him, but he eventually overcame that adversity by making an “impossibility” into an “inevitably”.

Atop the rooftop, standing with the wind to his back, Sylvester started to speak to his opponent. His words carried with them no malice, taking an almost somber tone with the person who was his first opponent of the Grail War.

“I detest fighting Lancer. If there were a more peaceful way to obtain the Holy Grail and make my wish come true, I would take that approach. But if it were between you dying, and my wish being granted, I assure you that your life inconsequential in that comparison. As a fellow Heroic Spirit called upon by the Holy Grail, I am sure you understand. It is just business, after all. I’m sorry if that is a disappointment for someone as skilled with a spear like yourself, but I am no warrior.”

Sylvester was a man of the cloth. He was never a warrior and could not share the “fun” of combat. It was merely a formality; something that he was required to do as a Heroic Spirit. Though he would not fail his Master, nor himself for that matter, Rider felt no true joy in the heat of battle.

Fighting was detestable to him. Though he was the Pontiff possessed to be a Devil’s minion, he refused that path and chose one where he could smile together with the woman he truly cared for, and if he had to fight to retain this peace, Sylvester would do anything in his power to continue.

“You are merely stalling the inevitable. I can tell that you are a powerful Heroic Spirit; your skills with the spear are enough to carry you through battles, and your tactics are honestly incredible. But against me, that skill and power are useless. I have considered every move you could do at this point. If you have any more surprises to throw at me, feel free to try them. But don’t be surprised when I corner you again!”

And with that, Rider began to close the gap between himself and Lancer in order to finish where the two had left off in their previous bout, cracking the shingles between him and his opponent with the power of his movement alone.

Fight on.

Live, no matter the cost.

Destroy those who are before you.

That is what it meant to live for a dream. If there were those who would take away that dream from Rider, then they would feel the wrath from he who acted as God’s hand on earth!

Fate/Blind Logos

Sylvester II

Outside Apartment Workshop, Core District

@Unoedipal@ManyThings

---

Things were not looking great for Rider. His once dominant position in the fight was slowly waning as Lancer began to increase in ferocity.

Between the strength of D and the strength of B, Sylvester was at a significant disadvantage. His opponent was double his strength. The Lancer before Rider was someone of great power and speed, and even with his position before, Rider soon found himself at the other end of a spear being thrown back. Gone were the feints and passes that the Lancer had thrown into his attacks in order to edge out, in his mind at the time, an advantage, and now

He would lose.

Despite his advantage earlier, his calculations showed that there was a .02% chance that each of these attacks would end him, and when one is doing hundreds of attacks within the span of a second, this mathematics compounds and compounds, increasing from the .000001% chance he had calculated earlier, which was completely within the bounds of something that “should never occur”.

… But if Rider’s opponent was going to go “all out” in this fight, he would have to match them with equal ferocity!

His eye shuttered like a camera taking a photo what appeared to be hundreds of thousands of times a second, absorbing every amount of information he could from the battle at hand. He had to filter out what was “not needed” for calculations from his "vision" so that only what was “necessary” would be processed. A calculation of what “existed” that was the world which Rider lived in.

More information.

Rider needed more information on the battle.

The Demon he had reprogrammed with the help of a Moorish traveler was the greatest “computer” that humanity ever created! There was no way that he could lose with his wife right next to him.

A strength of D and the strength of B; Sylvester still couldn’t overcome this gap if he wanted to “win” the fight. If he continued to fight in this defensive manner, according to his calculations, he would eventually lose at around the 50 or 60 turn count, which while a large amount of time away, was still a loss on his part. That much was already a given. Lancer was leveraging this power against him.

… And if he were to fall here, he could not make his Wish come true.

Even to the man who had taken down the prince of hell, he was not a hero who murdered other heroes. He was a simple man of the cloth who had risen up the ranks after forcing the very same prince of hell to submit to his power with the power he held, but to a hero renowned for the murder of other heroes, Lancer clearly had the advantage there.

Therefore …

.... If Rider wanted to win, he would have to continue forward past this adversity with everything he had at his disposal!

His right hand resonated with him, glowing golden for the moment.

It was as if his hand was otherworldly.

It was as if his hand was inhuman.

It was as if there was “something” that wasn’t human radiating from his hand comparable to the greatest of beasts; the skill held by those of the phantasmal rank held this power within themselves. The prana burst.

… But this was the hand that was given to Sylvester. The person who would support him through his life and the person he cherished the most in the entire world. This was the culmination of their love for one another. Sylvester would use his “hand” and thus his wife would “act”.

They trusted one another, and this was that proof!

“TAKE THIS, LANCER!”

It should be impossible for a person with half the strength of an opponent to overpower an opponent. Regardless of the difference in skill, the person with the incredible strength would eventually edge out an advantage, and it was not like Rider was more skilled than Lancer in fighting against other heroes.

But there was one thing that Sylvester believed in above all else

It was a human belief, but something that he held in his heart.

...And that …

That was making an impossibility a “reality”

From his once backfooted defense, with the power of his hand, Sylvester overcame the difference in their strength. So much so that the once double advantage that Lancer was comfortable with was reversed. Rider was now ahead of his opponent, and he was edging ever so closer to victory!

And thus, Sylvester kept up the pressure.

He would win.

He had to win.

After all, it was his promise to his Master that he would win.

And more importantly, that promise he made long, long ago that he would always win.

A Certain Parallel Cosmos

Lazing around in Kuuro’s apartment!
@CrowsAltV2

“Ehhhhh!?”

A voice from the living room called out to Kuuro, seemingly annoyed by his “demand” assistance in the kitchen to help with the groceries. A seemingly simple enough request from a seemingly simple enough individual, and perhaps to an average individual it would not have been too much effort to assist in this way to someone who had been providing her with room and board for this short period of time.

...Of course, the level of hospitality and humility that one might expect from one who seemed to owe the other for providing them with a roof over their head and even went out of their way to cook for them. Such was the individual with the name “Nero Etheldreda Kagami”, whom of which had been living with Kuuro for almost a week now after a certain “incident” left Kuuro with what Nero considers to be an “obligation” and what Kuuro considered to be an “annoyance”.

A self-proclaimed “Sister” without a lick of dignity about her. Though she was not currently wearing the … “outfit” … that Kuuro had met her in, forcing the uniform of the school he went to on the girl at this time, she still seemed to not have any dignity, her legs open at a wider angle than one might expect a lady to show.

To Kuuro, it might have spelled out a rather luscious nature behind her act - especially if one considers how the two had originally met, though to Nero there was no other choice to her. If asked, she might say something along the lines of “It just felt better this way.”

“I don’t want to! I’m busy with this level! I started my own playthrough on this “Schatten 4” game you had here while you were busy doing… whatever it is boys like you do during the day.”

Unfortunately for Kuuro, this particular game only had one option for a saved game.

“Where were you, though? You said you’d come home early today, but I guess you took your time today, didn’t you? You scolded me yesterday about “being punctual”, but I bet you were just going around picking up strange women again, you perv. I guess a boy like you is growing, so you should enjoy your youth while you have the chance~.”

Nero called with the grin only a cat would wear.

The other day Kuuro scolded Nero about “being punctual” when in reality it was about him asking her to take out their dinner out of the oven while he was at the store or it was going to burn. Thus, she considered her actions here right, despite, as per usual, being in the obvious wrong here.

... The fact of the matter is that the two had takeout that day.

However, her own statement seemed to invoke a sense of discomfort within Nero, forcing her to think about the time she and Kuuro had met only a week ago.

“Perv,” Nero simply repeated, taking her gaze away from the man, a feverish red strip taking residence upon her face.

“Ah, please forget about that. Just thinking about that makes me want to die,” Nero said, her eyes glazing over for but a moment before returning to normal.

...The least that the brute could do was knock!

The momentary reliving of what could be considered Nero’s worst day was the only thing that could take her eyes away from the game, a [Game Over] screen plastering itself on the television due to her distracted nature at the time. She didn’t seem to mind, nor give that any thought as she left from the living room-like area of the apartment to the kitchen located in the same room divided solely by a counter that sat abnormally tall at chest level to Nero with barstools that lined the side facing the living room.

Nero got up to go watch Kuuro put away the groceries.

Not help Kuuro put away the groceries. Simply watch.

“I want meat tonight, by the way. You promised me meat yesterday but you never gave me it, after all~. Men need to keep their word, do they not?”

A Certain Parallel Cosmos

Nero Etheldreda

"I shall pray for the idiot before me, for he does not know of his stupidity. Now take responsibility for your actions!"

_Names

Kagami, Nero Etheldreda

_{Magic name}

Lapsus021: “To Present Oneself and Correct the Error”

_Gender

Female

_Nationality

Japanese-Sicilian(Greco)

Characterization

---

_Affiliation

Hessian Church (Current)
Roman Catholic Church (Former)

_Personality

An incredibly studious appearing individual, Nero tends to come off as the sort that one might expect to be within some sort upperclassmen that one would look up to. Cool, collected, and often able to reconcile the difference between others before conflict arises.

This is just their surface personality though. In reality, Nero is a useless, selfish individual who does everything in their power to hedonistically enjoy themselves while placing forward the least amount of effort in any given situation to look as presentable as possible. They often intelligently go about any scenario they find themselves in order to expand the least amount of mental and physical energy while still presenting themselves as a self-proclaimed “Cute, reliable senpai” to her cohorts and friends.

Even if Nero would rather sleep the day away, if there was something that currently caused her inflated sense of justice to peak, she would do anything in her power to provide at least respite to the lost lambs before her with a friendly smile, but secretly finding the whole situation to be a waste of her time in her mind. Likely due to likely missing one of her television programs.

_History

​Nero Etheldreda Kagami was orphaned at a young age when her parents, her father being an international trader from Japan and her mother being a fortune teller from Cagliari, were on a trip in Northern Scandinavia. The boat they were on was hijacked and they were killed in the process to a band of pirates. There were no relatives that could take the young girl in, her parents having made enemies of their family after their marriage was disapproved by both sides.

Living off the streets for a few years of her life in her home of Sicily, being called a street urchin and all kinds of insults, the young lady was taken the Catholic Church due to her natural power, even before becoming a mage, to feel the thrum of the spirits, which she tended to “feel” were not malicious, though there were malicious spirits she had met and that she avoided.

Serving years under the banner of the Catholic Church, eventually, Nero was assigned to infiltrate a certain church, but decided to revoke their previous ties with the Catholic Church and join this organization seemingly out of the blue.

Currently, her oh-so-great leader had informed her of a plan to infiltrate academy city, though due to an unfortunate communication error, the two have been separated since infiltration.

Isn’t it sad?

​

Lapsus021

---

A variation on spiritual possession; the ability to intake oneself upon the “frequencies” of the aether. To rewrite the “self” with “something”. In that sense, it is also a means of self-modification utilizing temporary states of existences to fulfill a purpose. In Nero’s case, this takes effect as the ability to channel “spirits” into oneself. Similar to the Nympholepts of ancient Greece. To possess oneself with a “spirit”; a frequency dialed in. However, with the introduction of Christianity to Greece, the meaning of this had been muddied through the shared foundation.

In Nero’s case, it is the ability to “feel” the thrum of the spirits beside her and “accept” this thrum into oneself. In other words, the ability to have a “spirit” affect oneself and to take on the characteristics provided by said spirit. Though the body is kept, it becomes “tainted” by the addition of “others”, and after a while causes irreparable changes, becoming the new “self”. Classification for what constitutes a spirit simply is an existence who is able to grant access to their frequency for the duration of time.

Currently, Nero has contracted the four existences of pure elements, the Sylvestris, the Gnomus, the Undina, and the Vulcanus, better known as the Sylph, Gnome, Undyne, and Salamander as proposed by alchemist Paracelsus; the “pure” definition of those elements.

Nero is also known to have the ability to contract with existences such as wraiths in order to obtain information, obtain greater strength, or obtain knowledge of subjects, though wraiths require an agreement to be forged between herself and the residual existence. If she has the means to focus their desire towards something, she can truly shine in this regard.

_{Magical Items}

A deck of tarot cards left by her mother. Holds sentimental value and not much else.

_Expertise

An absolute NEET with little redeeming qualities, though they are rather skilled in terms of technology compared to the average mage as an unfortunate side effect.

Well-versed in history and magical foundations, primarily focusing on Western (European) Thaumaturgy and history.

Can clean well, given that was one of her primary jobs as a Sister in the monastery. This extends minorly to her cooking, which could be considered “above average” in most cases similar to a mother in that regard.

Rather snappy when it comes to quips and figuring out plans during stressful situations, though would rather not be in that situation, to begin with.

Skilled at reading maps and understanding the lay of the land, though due to their insistence on not going outside, this skill is hardly used.

Relationships

---

_Family

None to speak of.

_{Organisations}

Roman Catholic Church: While previously friendly, Nero’s sudden departure seems to have left a rather sour taste in the mouths of a few members, while others are simply worried for her well-being, having been a rather respected individual within said organization.

A Certain Parallel Cosmos

Nero

"I shall pray for the idiot before me, for he does not know of his stupidity. Now take responsibility for your actions!"

_Names

Kagami, Nero Etheldreda

_{Magic name}

Lapsus021: “To Present Oneself and Correct the Error”

_Gender

Female

_Nationality

Japanese-Sicilian(Greco)

Characterization

---

_Affiliation

Hessian Church (Current)
Roman Catholic Church (Former)

_Personality

An incredibly studious appearing individual, Nero tends to come off as the sort that one might expect to be within some sort upperclassmen that one would look up to. Cool, collected, and often able to reconcile the difference between others before conflict arises.

This is just their surface personality though. In reality, Nero is a useless, selfish individual who does everything in their power to hedonistically enjoy themselves while placing forward the least amount of effort in any given situation to look as presentable as possible. They often intelligently go about any scenario they find themselves in order to expand the least amount of mental and physical energy while still presenting themselves as a self-proclaimed “Cute, reliable senpai” to her cohorts and friends.

Even if Nero would rather sleep the day away, if there was something that currently caused her inflated sense of justice to peak, she would do anything in her power to provide at least respite to the lost lambs before her with a friendly smile, but secretly finding the whole situation to be a waste of her time in her mind. Likely due to likely missing one of her television programs.

_History

​Nero Etheldreda Kagami was orphaned at a young age when her parents, her father being an international trader from Japan and her mother being a fortune teller from Cagliari, were on a trip in Northern Scandinavia. The boat they were on was hijacked and they were killed in the process to a band of pirates. There were no relatives that could take the young girl in, her parents having made enemies of their family after their marriage was disapproved by both sides.

Living off the streets for a few years of her life in her home of Sicily, being called a street urchin and all kinds of insults, the young lady was taken the Catholic Church due to her natural power, even before becoming a mage, to feel the thrum of the spirits, which she tended to “feel” were not malicious, though there were malicious spirits she had met and that she avoided.

Serving years under the banner of the Catholic Church, eventually, Nero was assigned to infiltrate a certain church, but decided to revoke their previous ties with the Catholic Church and join this organization seemingly out of the blue.

Currently, her oh-so-great leader had informed her of a plan to infiltrate academy city, though due to an unfortunate communication error, the two have been separated since infiltration.

Isn’t it sad?

​

Lapsus021

---

A variation on spiritual possession; the ability to intake oneself upon the “frequencies” of the aether. To rewrite the “self” with “something”. In that sense, it is also a means of self-modification utilizing temporary states of existences to fulfill a purpose. In Nero’s case, this takes effect as the ability to channel “spirits” into oneself. Similar to the Nympholepts of ancient Greece. To possess oneself with a “spirit”; a frequency dialed in. However, with the introduction of Christianity to Greece, the meaning of this had been muddied through the shared foundation.

In Nero’s case, it is the ability to “feel” the thrum of the spirits beside her and “accept” this thrum into oneself. In other words, the ability to have a “spirit” affect oneself and to take on the characteristics provided by said spirit. Though the body is kept, it becomes “tainted” by the addition of “others”, and after a while causes irreparable changes, becoming the new “self”. Classification for what constitutes a spirit simply is an existence who is able to grant access to their frequency for the duration of time.

Currently, Nero has contracted the four existences of pure elements, the Sylvestris, the Gnomus, the Undina, and the Vulcanus, better known as the Sylph, Gnome, Undyne, and Salamander as proposed by alchemist Paracelsus; the “pure” definition of those elements.

Nero is also known to have the ability to contract with existences such as wraiths in order to obtain information, obtain greater strength, or obtain knowledge of subjects, though wraiths require an agreement to be forged between herself and the residual existence. If she has the means to focus their desire towards something, she can truly shine in this regard.

_{Magical Items}

A deck of tarot cards left by her mother. Holds sentimental value and not much else.

_Expertise

An absolute neet with little redeeming qualities, though they are rather skilled in terms of technology compared to the average mage as an unfortunate side effect.

Well-versed in history and magical foundations, primarily focusing on Western (European) Thaumaturgy and history.

Can clean well, given that was one of her primary jobs as a Sister in the monastery. This extends minorly to her cooking, which could be considered “above average” in most cases similar to a mother in that regard.

Rather snappy when it comes to quips and figuring out plans during stressful situations, though would rather not be in that situation, to begin with.

Skilled at reading maps and understanding the lay of the land, though due to their insistence on not going outside, this skill is hardly used.

Relationships

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_Family

None to speak of.

_{Organisations}

Roman Catholic Church: While previously friendly, Nero’s sudden departure seems to have left a rather sour taste in the mouths of a few members, while others are simply worried for her well-being, having been a rather respected individual within said organization.

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Sylvester II

Outside Apartment Workshop, Core District

@Unoedipal@Sunglass@ManyThings

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Sylvester stood alone in front of the assault of the enemy Servant.

Durindana was a sharp spear, sure. A weapon of great power used by the hero of the Trojan War, Hector, and then again by the Hero of France, Roland, showing that the weapon could be considered something that was “peerless”. But every weapon has the same weakness. If the weapon does not “strike” an opponent, then such a weapon was useless.

It was not even too much of an efforted movement. With his “armored hand”, he quickly slammed the blade away each time, sending the weapon off the course and deflecting the blow, similar to a certain blue spearman’s battle with a certain red archer. Unlike that time though, these Heroic Spirits seemed equally matched to some degree.

Servants were beings of great power, but neither of the two had activated a noble phantasm; the proof of their legend. A battle between two Servants was a battle between noble phantasms, and the fact neither of these Servants appeared to have used theirs was proof that they were going easy on one another.

It didn’t matter how or when Hector attacked, even attempting to shift the weapon showed no change to Sylvester’s prowess. Almost as if some sort of divination was occurring during each strike, Sylvester was able to know how and when Hector would strike his opponent and would counter back each time with a quick, collected movement of his right hand.

Not a single attack was able to puncture through Sylvester’s defense. While not a wall in its own regard, one might akin his defensive prowess against the Hero of the Trojan war akin to the walls of Troy themselves. Not in terms of the “toughness”, but of the seemingly impossible amount of “impregnability” presented by Rider at this time.

A barrage of attacks from the spearman before him, even if he was able to close the gap, would still put him at a disadvantage; it would be impossible for a man without an obvious weapon to defeat someone with a ranged weapon. But at the minimum, it appeared that Sylvester would not succumb to any of the attacks from the Lancer-class Servant. Even in a million years if this battle were to continue at the pace it was, one might be correct to assume that the stalemate would remain.

“Not bad. I can tell you are a very skilled spearman! At your age, color impressed, old man!” Sylvester said to his opponent. Of course, Sylvester was complimenting the opposing spearman, but given the fact that he had just deflected every single one of these strikes; strikes aimed for vital points each attack. Despite this assault, Rider was able to deflect, dodge, and redirect every single one of the Trojan Hero’s attacks one by one with mechanical action.

“Though I am told by my Master that giving away my name isn’t something I should be doing in this war, you are a great Hero. I can tell, Lancer. Even the legions of hell might fear your blade! But unfortunately I have been told by my Master that he wishes to obtain the Holy Grail, and that is what I shall do. So prepare yourself, Lancer!”

Gaps in attacks; lapses in judgment. Rider saw them all. And used them to his advantage. Even if the length of a spear compared to the length of his reach was an impossible gap to overcome, Heroes were beings that created a “possibility” within the realm of “impossible”; to give hope to the hopelessness.

And Rider would turn this “impossibility” into a “possibility” and put the Hero of Troy on the back ropes!

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Enzio "Zed" Ferrari

Latin District, Atop a Building Observing the River Seine

@Red Alice @ManyThings@Indra@The World

“You damn familiar put me do-”

Enzio tried to state as his Servant dragged him along their merry way, seemingly without any sort of care for the wellbeing of their Master.

‘How could a damned familiar act like this? Aren’t I the Master? … No. It would be presumptuous of me to assume I could control something as powerful as a Heroic Spirit. I expected such from a Servant, but this … is humiliating! I’ll show her! I’ll activate a Command Seal! That’ll teach this familiar to know their pla-’

And just as soon as she began, the untamed beast that was his Servant stopped their momentum, seeming proud of the actions they had taken. Perhaps Zed would have gone flying had his Servant been any more rough with him, so there had to be some sort of worth to this Servant, no? Enzio could not think properly in regards to this revelation though, rather annoyed at the actions of his “mere familiar”.

....At the very least he did not have to activate a Command Seal?

“A man's worst enemies are those
Of his own house and family;
And he who makes his law a curse,
By his own law shall surely die.”

Zed was a man of composure, however. Calming himself by reciting a poem from his book, he was able to recede his anger for that moment. At this point, he simply wished to lash out at his Servant and berate them for their actions, but he simply said in a rather calm speech, as if a teacher questioning their young student as to the reason for eating glue in class.

“Archer, why did you bring me, a mage, outside of the workshop? I had summoned you to win a war, not to run away from our base of operations. Without even so much of a conversation, no less. ”

Moments after his reprimanding, Zed began to laugh. A hard, bellowing laugh, as if he had realized a joke after the initial punchline. Grabbing at his stomach and with a cane in his hand, he tried to calm himself with his hand in a waving motion to the front of him.

I smile formed upon his face. Before Zed was a battle between Servants. Just on the outskirts of this battle were himself and his Servant; at the edge of detection from the enemy Masters. A real, genuine battle!

“Oh, I see. I see! Everything is clear to me now. You wished to partake in battle so soon, no? A Servant is a being summoned to obtain the Holy Grail for their Master and themselves, so I suppose that makes sense! In my wrath, I saw not your true intentions! ‘A fool sees not the same tree a wise man sees’, after all! I shall rescind my previous statements, Archer. But what shall we do about these quarreling children? I suppose I shall leave that decision to yourself, given you are the one who found them.”

The smile widened on Zed’s face.

“'He who desires but acts not breeds pestilence.' Perhaps … we shall pay them a visit?”