Raineh Daze

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... I can't help but find it amusing that for all Jack's skills bar one to work, all being based around stealth and being unknown, her identity has to be explicitly given out even in spite of her appearance--otherwise Murderer of the Misty Night would never go off, and Information Erasure's workaround would be a dead end. xD

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Hm.

One thing I've been wondering is what constitutes an engagement for the purposes of Information Erasure. If you simply have a conversation with her, would it take effect? And if it doesn't, what happens if you do later witness Jack fighting? Ah, the reasons to not keep her identity secret... because otherwise IC gets really confusing. xD

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

Lilianna Belwiss

Most knights, riding unarmoured and a prime target due to being on horseback, would generally come to resemble a pincushion after receiving a volley of arrows. Lilianna was comparatively fortunate in that there was hardly an overwhelming number of archers, enough that only one arrow was headed for her. Still, unarmoured, this constituted a Very Bad Thing. Until she drew her sword.

Nobody, nobody, who made it into the knights was going to be allowed to go around without a single scrap of protection unless they could prove they earned it. To one who the only martial combat that came naturally was to flow with the blade, there were only two options against something that would normally be absorbed or blocked: dodge or deflect. Being on horseback ruled out the former; in a flash of steel, the incoming danger was sliced down its centre, harmlessly going to either side.

"I told that upstart this would happen," she grumbled, preparing to leap from horseback at a second's notice. In a shieldwall her abilities were useless--she had to wait for an opportunity to close, whichever side took it.

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@Cu Chulainn I'm no good at mentions.

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Johanna Faust

The magus had to suppress a twinge of disappointment at the initial summon, not for any rational reason--simply for, herself, being taller than the Servant that she had summoned. It was a reasonable thing to expect; historically most would have been shorter than herself and there was nothing that required heroes to be of any particular height. Strange, when Berserker identified his class; it was the number one Servant to expect imposing stature. There was another twitch of disappointment whilst looking at him--he was nearly as intrinsically identifiable as Faust would have been had she summoned a Caster.

It seemed like she was going to have to put up with a rebellious, and from the damn pointing, rather rude Servant. It couldn't be helped, if she'd had time to prepare it would have been child's play to guarantee herself a knight of one kind or another--Barbarossa, maybe, or simply trick the French for a few weeks and get Charlemagne. If only she'd not had the misfortune of summoning a Berserker best suited to another class... at least he was capable of some thought.

"I can assure you that I had no intention of summoning Berserker if it could be helped. Nor do I have the knowledge required to manipulate the Grail in such a way," Johanna stated, adjusting her tie once more before turning around and going back towards the church, "Unfortunately, there still remains a matter of procedure before we can engage in the war proper. A brief, but necessary, formality."

---

Assassin

It was all so... overwhelming. To be summoned at all... the mere inclination that somebody might find her useful, might desire her even for the sake of brutal murders... it was beyond Assassin's wildest imagination. When summoned, she had been ready then and there to do as Mother commanded, to go and hunt down the enemies in this and plan how to kill them before the war had even begun in earnest and get it all over with in a single night of bloodshed. But... Mother had wanted her for more than that, had shown her more affection than she had thought was possible. Food... simple clothing... a hug...

She would do anything that her mother asked and win this war.

We will watch... but if she hurts you...

Inside the building, the young girl stuck to the shadows, white hair not giving her away in the slightest--nor the cream shorts. She was Assassin, and beyond that simply beneath the notice of anyone but Mother. Unless she made a move to fight, nobody would ever spot her, regardless of how much her colouration or anything she wore besides a black t-shirt gave her away.

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Thank you.

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That red's got bad contrast with the background. :T

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I couldn't comment. I already knew. :T

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Greetings from 4AM!

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\o/