Psyker Landshark
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subway slammer
STATUS: As a GM, I hate all my players in particular 3 mos ago
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As a GM, I hate all my players in particular
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7 mos ago
joining the war on smoking, on the side of smoking
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as a patreon reward I will read your least favorite person's handmade custom tabletop RPG homebrew and ask them why they didn't just run it in 5e instead
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I started RP before double digit age but you couldn't have gotten an admission I was under 18 under threat of death. Kids just casually admiting it online now is wild.
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the whole subway's mine for the slammin'
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Bio
sneed
Most Recent Posts
Literally a Plague Marine.
Annaliisa and Nemo
Annaliisa stared for a moment, surprised at her Servant’s irreverent demeanor. Weren’t heroes of past ages supposed to be more...heroic? Or at least trying to be? And then she shrugged. No matter. Hell, it might even be better this way. A knight in shining armor might have been grating to listen to after a while.
“Well,” Annaliisa brushed her hair back, an apathetic expression on her face. “I suppose. I did summon you.” Never mind that she’d killed what was supposed to be his original Master and stolen all of his goodies. “And the ‘theatrics’ weren’t my fault, either. Blame the bloody ritual for that one. Honestly though, you’re one to talk. You complain about showmanship and then kneel like some kind of knight?”
“Well, pardon me,” Assassin replied simply in complete deadpan, nonetheless taking it as a hint that his display had served its purpose, “And the question stands, Magi. Are you the one who summoned me here? Are you my Master?”
“Alright, yes. I’m your Master. Happy now?” Annaliisa sighed, turning away to pull out another bottle of her favorite lemon Fanta, taking a swig. “Bloody hell, are you going to be like this the whole time?”
“The ritual is complete, so yes,” Was Assassin’s initial response to Annaliisa, as he felt the flow of prana between the two of them strengthen as she confirmed their contract; and as she took another verbal potshot at him, he himself sighed. “Perhaps, perhaps not. I suppose it depends.”
Taking his attention away from his Master for a second, he took a look around the room; as of the force of the ritual that had just occured, the room had darkened, but that hardly mattered to Assassin. With the benefits his body afforded him, he could see clearly, if somewhat unfocusedly, in the dim darkness of the room.
He seemed to be in the living room; at least, that was the impression he got from the furniture and rolled-up rug shunted off to the side to make way for the summoning circle used in his ritual. The curtains were drawn, wisely enough, and there seemed to be several crates, packages and boxes stashed over in one of the far corners of the room. Nothing particularly interested Assassin outright; there was a strange, flat device propped up on a table that would have interested him had the Grail not dumped the knowledge about it straight into his head when he saw it. That killed the interest a little bit.
“That aside, Master, have you any orders for me? The Grail War begins the very moment a Servant is summoned; if you have any task you would have me carry out, I wouldn’t hesitate in issuing it.”
“Go scout around the city for yourself. I’ve already had a look in the past few days. If you see an enemy Servant, feel free to engage at your discretion.” Annaliisa shrugged, kicking back onto the couch in the room. “You see a Master, ping me over our link and keep them in your sight. I’m in this Grail War to fight magi.” She paused for a second, frowning. “And if you see a redheaded Master that’s female and kind of looks like me...keep her alive and not permanently injured.” Hell, this would have been easier if she’d gotten a Knight-class Servant. Now she just wanted to fly back to London for a kip and kick that idiot magus’s corpse for leaving her with a catalyst for an Assassin.
Assassin’s only response was to nod before fading and turning to leave; his only real thoughts as he left revolved around his Master’s motives. She wanted to fight other Magi? Then why summon an Assassin, intended to approach Masters in secrecy and kill them efficiently? Had she thought this through properly?
‘This could be a problem,’ Assassin just thought to himself as his dematerialized form slipped through the door of the apartment, before another problem suddenly occurred to him.
He paused, still dematerialized, and looked down at himself in spirit form.
As useful and intimidating as the armour could well be in a combat situation, it… left a hell of a lot to be desired for the practical purpose of reconnaissance or stealth. Damn that Innocent Monster skill, this wouldn’t do.
“I suppose, Master,” Assassin called out to Annaliisa, as he glided back through the wall and rematerialized in the hall, “That you wouldn’t happen to have a practical change of clothes that would fit me? The Grail seems to have dealt me an odd hand in terms of my Class situation; to make full use of Presence Concealment, I may need something less attention grabbing than, well-”
Walking into the living room where Annaliisa was still slumped across the sofa with her strange lemon drink (which Assassin had to admit looked pretty damn refreshing), Assassin gestured up and down himself; drawing attention to his bloodstained and scarred armour as he did so.
“- This,” he finished, dropping his arms as he stared at his lounging Master.
Annaliisa took a look at Assassin’s armor for a moment before nodding her assent. “Fine.” She jerked a finger towards the room to her right. “The couple that used to live here left some clothes. You’ll probably find something decent in their closet.”
Assassin just nodded before dematerializing and gliding through the wall of the room. A cursory search of the closet yielded promising enough results; whilst he would have preferred something else, the trousers and shirts seemed a decent enough fit for his frame, and the somewhat oversized old coat would be conductive enough to blending in. He’d just have to look for something better later, he supposed.
“Back in a few hours, then,” Assassin yelled to his Master from across the rooms whilst still dematerialized, taking just a few last moments to flatten down his hair with some leftover water in the sink before gliding through the walls and out into the night.
Annaliisa stared for a moment, surprised at her Servant’s irreverent demeanor. Weren’t heroes of past ages supposed to be more...heroic? Or at least trying to be? And then she shrugged. No matter. Hell, it might even be better this way. A knight in shining armor might have been grating to listen to after a while.
“Well,” Annaliisa brushed her hair back, an apathetic expression on her face. “I suppose. I did summon you.” Never mind that she’d killed what was supposed to be his original Master and stolen all of his goodies. “And the ‘theatrics’ weren’t my fault, either. Blame the bloody ritual for that one. Honestly though, you’re one to talk. You complain about showmanship and then kneel like some kind of knight?”
“Well, pardon me,” Assassin replied simply in complete deadpan, nonetheless taking it as a hint that his display had served its purpose, “And the question stands, Magi. Are you the one who summoned me here? Are you my Master?”
“Alright, yes. I’m your Master. Happy now?” Annaliisa sighed, turning away to pull out another bottle of her favorite lemon Fanta, taking a swig. “Bloody hell, are you going to be like this the whole time?”
“The ritual is complete, so yes,” Was Assassin’s initial response to Annaliisa, as he felt the flow of prana between the two of them strengthen as she confirmed their contract; and as she took another verbal potshot at him, he himself sighed. “Perhaps, perhaps not. I suppose it depends.”
Taking his attention away from his Master for a second, he took a look around the room; as of the force of the ritual that had just occured, the room had darkened, but that hardly mattered to Assassin. With the benefits his body afforded him, he could see clearly, if somewhat unfocusedly, in the dim darkness of the room.
He seemed to be in the living room; at least, that was the impression he got from the furniture and rolled-up rug shunted off to the side to make way for the summoning circle used in his ritual. The curtains were drawn, wisely enough, and there seemed to be several crates, packages and boxes stashed over in one of the far corners of the room. Nothing particularly interested Assassin outright; there was a strange, flat device propped up on a table that would have interested him had the Grail not dumped the knowledge about it straight into his head when he saw it. That killed the interest a little bit.
“That aside, Master, have you any orders for me? The Grail War begins the very moment a Servant is summoned; if you have any task you would have me carry out, I wouldn’t hesitate in issuing it.”
“Go scout around the city for yourself. I’ve already had a look in the past few days. If you see an enemy Servant, feel free to engage at your discretion.” Annaliisa shrugged, kicking back onto the couch in the room. “You see a Master, ping me over our link and keep them in your sight. I’m in this Grail War to fight magi.” She paused for a second, frowning. “And if you see a redheaded Master that’s female and kind of looks like me...keep her alive and not permanently injured.” Hell, this would have been easier if she’d gotten a Knight-class Servant. Now she just wanted to fly back to London for a kip and kick that idiot magus’s corpse for leaving her with a catalyst for an Assassin.
Assassin’s only response was to nod before fading and turning to leave; his only real thoughts as he left revolved around his Master’s motives. She wanted to fight other Magi? Then why summon an Assassin, intended to approach Masters in secrecy and kill them efficiently? Had she thought this through properly?
‘This could be a problem,’ Assassin just thought to himself as his dematerialized form slipped through the door of the apartment, before another problem suddenly occurred to him.
He paused, still dematerialized, and looked down at himself in spirit form.
As useful and intimidating as the armour could well be in a combat situation, it… left a hell of a lot to be desired for the practical purpose of reconnaissance or stealth. Damn that Innocent Monster skill, this wouldn’t do.
“I suppose, Master,” Assassin called out to Annaliisa, as he glided back through the wall and rematerialized in the hall, “That you wouldn’t happen to have a practical change of clothes that would fit me? The Grail seems to have dealt me an odd hand in terms of my Class situation; to make full use of Presence Concealment, I may need something less attention grabbing than, well-”
Walking into the living room where Annaliisa was still slumped across the sofa with her strange lemon drink (which Assassin had to admit looked pretty damn refreshing), Assassin gestured up and down himself; drawing attention to his bloodstained and scarred armour as he did so.
“- This,” he finished, dropping his arms as he stared at his lounging Master.
Annaliisa took a look at Assassin’s armor for a moment before nodding her assent. “Fine.” She jerked a finger towards the room to her right. “The couple that used to live here left some clothes. You’ll probably find something decent in their closet.”
Assassin just nodded before dematerializing and gliding through the wall of the room. A cursory search of the closet yielded promising enough results; whilst he would have preferred something else, the trousers and shirts seemed a decent enough fit for his frame, and the somewhat oversized old coat would be conductive enough to blending in. He’d just have to look for something better later, he supposed.
“Back in a few hours, then,” Assassin yelled to his Master from across the rooms whilst still dematerialized, taking just a few last moments to flatten down his hair with some leftover water in the sink before gliding through the walls and out into the night.
Annaliisa
London,
One week ago...
Annaliisa sat atop a building, yawning in boredom as her legs dangled over the edge. She sighed, popping open a bottle of lemon Fanta, and took a swig as she continued to wait for her target to pass by. Just then, a vintage BMW came down the road, and Annaliisa smiled as she saw a tiny beetle hanging on to the car. Good. At least her familiar hadn't been noticed. Her demeanor instantly shifted from boredom to excitement, and with a surge of prana, she Reinforced her body and summoned flames around her arms and legs.
“SURPRISE, FUCKER!” She bellowed as she crashed down on the roof of the classic car, punching a hole through it as she slid inside, landing in the backseat, right next to the magus she was seeking. Annaliisa threw a punch directly in front of her, and her fist went through the seat and head of the driver of the car, exploding both from the impact and heat of her punch.
“Wha-” The magus didn’t even have time to utter a word in confusion before Annaliisa drove a flaming elbow into his throat, crushing the man’s trachea instantly.
“Shouldn’t have gone around telling everyone in the Clock Tower you were chosen for the Holy Grail War, idiot.” Annaliisa scoffed at the fresh corpse as she let the flames surrounding her limbs dissipate, pulling out a knife in one hand and a cell phone in the other. She dialed a number before resting her phone between her cheek and shoulder, using one hand to steady the magus’s body as she hacked his right arm off with his knife.
“Hey, Eric?” She asked, returning to her bored expression now that there was nothing to entertain her. “You still practice surgery magecraft? I’ve got something I need you to transplant onto my arm.”
___
Septum, apartment
Present time
Annaliisa nodded to herself in satisfaction as she performed the finishing touches on her summoning circle. An ancient, rusted dagger lay in the center of it as she began to fill the circle with several vials of her own blood. Over the past week, she’d drawn out a little of her blood each day in preparation for the ritual. The catalyst had been taken from the car of the magus she’d killed for her Command Seals, and the man’s credit card had funded her flight to Septum, as well as several meals at five-star restaurants.
At least no one would be interrupting her here. She’d hypnotized the couple who lived in this apartment as soon as she arrived, and with any luck, they’d be well on their way to a month-long vacation in Tahiti. From her family’s credit card records, her sister was clearly already in the city, having rented out a hotel room for herself. Sloppy of Beatrice. Then again, Annaliisa had blatantly told her that she hadn’t been chosen for the Grail War, so she supposed Beatrice wasn’t going to expect that someone had access to her account records. Well, maybe if she got lucky, the two would get to have a nice, drawn-out brawl. God knows they’d never be able to do so at home.
With the ritual preparations finished, she stood up and held her hands out, beginning the chant.
"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 exploded into light.
_______________________________
Rider
The Servant opened his eyes, surveying the scene before him as the Grail pumped knowledge of the modern era inside his mind. So, he had been summoned for a Grail War, then. Any wish he desired would be granted? Rider paused for a moment. His true self in the Throne of Heroes had desired to go back and undo his greatest defeat, but even that paled compared to the opportunity that awaited him in this era. What he had once considered to be the world was really only a mere country, and there was so much more that he could unite under his banner. Yes...if he won this War, then he would wish for the opportunity to bring the whole world under his rule. No more foolish wars. No more fighting among the people of this earth. His ambition would unite man under a rule of strength and reason.
And to that end, he would need to win the Holy Grail War. Rider looked into his summoner’s eyes, whirling his cape back behind his iron armor.
“You who have summoned me: I am Servant Rider. Are you to be my Master in this war?”
London,
One week ago...
Annaliisa sat atop a building, yawning in boredom as her legs dangled over the edge. She sighed, popping open a bottle of lemon Fanta, and took a swig as she continued to wait for her target to pass by. Just then, a vintage BMW came down the road, and Annaliisa smiled as she saw a tiny beetle hanging on to the car. Good. At least her familiar hadn't been noticed. Her demeanor instantly shifted from boredom to excitement, and with a surge of prana, she Reinforced her body and summoned flames around her arms and legs.
“SURPRISE, FUCKER!” She bellowed as she crashed down on the roof of the classic car, punching a hole through it as she slid inside, landing in the backseat, right next to the magus she was seeking. Annaliisa threw a punch directly in front of her, and her fist went through the seat and head of the driver of the car, exploding both from the impact and heat of her punch.
“Wha-” The magus didn’t even have time to utter a word in confusion before Annaliisa drove a flaming elbow into his throat, crushing the man’s trachea instantly.
“Shouldn’t have gone around telling everyone in the Clock Tower you were chosen for the Holy Grail War, idiot.” Annaliisa scoffed at the fresh corpse as she let the flames surrounding her limbs dissipate, pulling out a knife in one hand and a cell phone in the other. She dialed a number before resting her phone between her cheek and shoulder, using one hand to steady the magus’s body as she hacked his right arm off with his knife.
“Hey, Eric?” She asked, returning to her bored expression now that there was nothing to entertain her. “You still practice surgery magecraft? I’ve got something I need you to transplant onto my arm.”
___
Septum, apartment
Present time
Annaliisa nodded to herself in satisfaction as she performed the finishing touches on her summoning circle. An ancient, rusted dagger lay in the center of it as she began to fill the circle with several vials of her own blood. Over the past week, she’d drawn out a little of her blood each day in preparation for the ritual. The catalyst had been taken from the car of the magus she’d killed for her Command Seals, and the man’s credit card had funded her flight to Septum, as well as several meals at five-star restaurants.
At least no one would be interrupting her here. She’d hypnotized the couple who lived in this apartment as soon as she arrived, and with any luck, they’d be well on their way to a month-long vacation in Tahiti. From her family’s credit card records, her sister was clearly already in the city, having rented out a hotel room for herself. Sloppy of Beatrice. Then again, Annaliisa had blatantly told her that she hadn’t been chosen for the Grail War, so she supposed Beatrice wasn’t going to expect that someone had access to her account records. Well, maybe if she got lucky, the two would get to have a nice, drawn-out brawl. God knows they’d never be able to do so at home.
With the ritual preparations finished, she stood up and held her hands out, beginning the chant.
"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 exploded into light.
_______________________________
Rider
The Servant opened his eyes, surveying the scene before him as the Grail pumped knowledge of the modern era inside his mind. So, he had been summoned for a Grail War, then. Any wish he desired would be granted? Rider paused for a moment. His true self in the Throne of Heroes had desired to go back and undo his greatest defeat, but even that paled compared to the opportunity that awaited him in this era. What he had once considered to be the world was really only a mere country, and there was so much more that he could unite under his banner. Yes...if he won this War, then he would wish for the opportunity to bring the whole world under his rule. No more foolish wars. No more fighting among the people of this earth. His ambition would unite man under a rule of strength and reason.
And to that end, he would need to win the Holy Grail War. Rider looked into his summoner’s eyes, whirling his cape back behind his iron armor.
“You who have summoned me: I am Servant Rider. Are you to be my Master in this war?”
Vincanity said
Okay... still can't post. That was useful...
How about posting in Fire Emblem, then.
Finally got the post up. I did a thing.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!" The crazed Nord bellowed as fire spewed out of his mouth. Hralvar swore furiously as the flames began to burn through his ward, forcing him his knees as the inferno began to overwhelm his defenses. Fortunately, the man's onslaught stopped as Gorzath bullrushed him from the side, but even that was short-lived as the man recovered quickly, battering Gorzath with multiple punches to the face before forcing him off with a cry of "FUS ROH DAH!", sending the orc crashing into a pillar. Hralvar and Zaveed charged the frothing psychopath together, starting to force him back through the sheer volume of their attacks. But the Nord remained unfazed, and bellowed another Shout.
"FAAS RU MAAR!" He screamed, sending Hralvar's sword and Zaveed's axes flying. Hralvar roared in frustration, extending both hands to fire a lightning storm at their foe. The Nord froze in place, yelling in pain for a moment before he let loose another Shout.
"WULD!"
And he was suddenly in Hralvar's face, raining fists down on the old man. Hralvar let loose a scream of pain as he felt a rib crack from one of the blows. For him, it was the Battle of Windhelm all over again. And just like last time, nothing he or his comrades did even slowed the man down.
"FUS ROH DAH!" The insane Nord screamed again, sending Hralvar flying through a window. For a moment, Hralvar was confused as to why he suddenly felt weightless, despite the pain that echoed through his body. And then he realized that he was falling. The top of White-Gold Tower grew further and further away as he fell, even as he heard one last Shout echo from the structure.
"MUL QAH DIIV!"
___
Hralvar awoke with a start, gasping for breath even as he gagged at the taste of salt water in his mouth. Pulling himself up, he spit out what water was in his mouth as he looked around. He was still on the ship, which seemed to have run aground. Groaning, he fell down on his ass, still gasping for breath.
"That damned dream again..." He hissed to himself. The final battle atop White-Gold Tower had been a nightmare for everyone involved, but Hralvar had been hurled off of the tower itself, falling to the streets below. If he hadn't known that spell of slow fall, he'd be in Sovngarde right now. Shaking his head, he stood back up, beginning to head for shore with the rest of the ship's crew.
___
Hours later, Hralvar sat around a campfire, passing a flask of rum around with several members of the ship's crew. Damn that storm. So far, everything that had gone wrong did go wrong for him, Marassa, and Cub. One city. They couldn't even make it to one fucking city without being captured or nearly dying? Sighing, he took a swig of rum before handing the flask over to the next person in the circle. Forget this, he might as well turn in early. Maybe getting some rest would improve his mood. As he stood up to find his bedroll, he was interrupted by a cry.
"SCORPIONS!"
Hralvar paused for a moment, watching Marassa cut down one of the local wildlife before she cast a Magelight out into the darkness, revealing an entire horde of the skittering bastards.
"...You know what?" He scowled, stepping forward as fire began to gather in his hands. "No. Divines be damned, I am not dealing with this tonight." Two fireballs flew from his palms, exploding in the midst of the horde as Hralvar continued stepping forward, more fire forming around him as he looked to vent his frustration against the scorpions.
Master for Ob's Assassin.
At Escellar's question, Fion simply shrugged, still trying to work that out for himself.
"Maybe. I doubt it, though. Around the time that the beasts appeared in Cykes, I was getting torn apart by that old hag." He said, trying his best to shift the mob's attention to Riley's mother instead of whatever was in Riley's body. For one, going after "Riley" at the moment was probably suicide, considering her ridiculous new elemental power, and her mother would be an easier target. After all, even that old bitch had been worried about the amount of power "Riley" had exhibited back at the Burrow. Plus, even if Riley got her body back, it wouldn't do her much good if everyone thought that she had been responsible for the massacre in Cykes.
Meanwhile, Eldren and the redheaded woman seemed to be having some kind of standoff. Fion watched in amusement, careful to keep the smirk off of his face. Well, Riley had just vouched for him, so maybe he'd let her off just this once without making some kind of joke at her expense. He turned back to Escellar, giving the man a nod and a smirk at his taste in female companionship.
"Well, then. You have a cabin I can set up in?" He asked before shifting his gaze to Riley for a second, his tone becoming serious. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. "Eldren, I need to talk with you in private when you're done here."
"Maybe. I doubt it, though. Around the time that the beasts appeared in Cykes, I was getting torn apart by that old hag." He said, trying his best to shift the mob's attention to Riley's mother instead of whatever was in Riley's body. For one, going after "Riley" at the moment was probably suicide, considering her ridiculous new elemental power, and her mother would be an easier target. After all, even that old bitch had been worried about the amount of power "Riley" had exhibited back at the Burrow. Plus, even if Riley got her body back, it wouldn't do her much good if everyone thought that she had been responsible for the massacre in Cykes.
Meanwhile, Eldren and the redheaded woman seemed to be having some kind of standoff. Fion watched in amusement, careful to keep the smirk off of his face. Well, Riley had just vouched for him, so maybe he'd let her off just this once without making some kind of joke at her expense. He turned back to Escellar, giving the man a nod and a smirk at his taste in female companionship.
"Well, then. You have a cabin I can set up in?" He asked before shifting his gaze to Riley for a second, his tone becoming serious. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. "Eldren, I need to talk with you in private when you're done here."
TentacleLord said
Hmmm, I'd like to have Todd apply to be Pskyer's Ahman's master.
I'm cool with this.
Toned Ahman's agility down to C.
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