Reflection

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_________________________________Saber Class_________________________________
Fighting Again - Western Farmlands
@Sageage-@Scallop

"Right, I almost forgot." Roland said, taking the second sword from his belt. It was indeed an impressive sword, and in his cursed arm, it was so light. as he could throw it all the way to the moon. But, he turned, and with carefully relegated strength, he tossed it across the clearing the two had made between themselves. But he did not pick up the blade Dietrich had given him. Instead, it remained there as a totem in the ground. A drawn line for Roland.

He would take all the might of Trieu, and match it blow for blow. And he would never be pushed back beyond that line he drew with that sword. "As for your terms. I agree in full. Your legend versus mine. I warn you though." a grin crossed Roland's lips, and those eyes focused upon his friendly opponent. "I will hold nothing back, and you must promise the same in kind! Because this land! This Fuyuki, is my gift to my uncle! And when I bring it to him, finally... HE WILL LOVE ME!"

His hands wrapped around Durandal, firmly wrapping around the handle. The glittering gleam of two miracles remained, but Roland doubted he would need them. No, for this he would take on his enemy in one go. His legend shimmering without the need for miracles. He had already overcome that. He had overcome his own legend! He had overcome the odds and with that knowledge, he was ready to chart a new legend for himself.

Taking that point, a surprising distance still from Trieu from the chase, there was more than enough ground for the both of them to run towards the other. He raised his sword before him, and charged. A full heroic charge, ground tearing up as he ran. "Show me, the power of your legend!" He declared, baiting out a charge from Nanyue. Which would be stronger in the end?

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_________________________________Master_________________________________
Native District - Riot Control
@Seirei No Hai@Sageage@floodtalon

It happened suddenly. To a few of the men of the mafia. A poor man who had left his home briefly to see what was going on, found himself spotted by two of the mafia thugs. It was for a moment that they held a gun to that man's head...

Then they stopped. Because suddenly, there was a sound like grinding glass. _{Shink. Shink. Shink.} It came suddenly as shards of a black glass began to appear from an alley way. And the two men turned to run. They couldn't run fast enough as the crystalline plague spotted them. Or maybe, it sensed them? It didn't matter. The first fell as a growing crustal punctured his foot. And then it exploded expontentionally. Ripping through him, growing and surrounding him. All he could do was... SCREAM! The second man had a similiar fate. And then, the crystals began to recede. Collapsing back in on each other, two piles of bones landed on the floor, before the crystals retreated back into the alley way. Back into the hands of a doctor named Xerxes Kaveh.

"Sir, get back into your house." Was all the doctor had to say.

He was careful. Avoiding sight, and moving between the alleys. He struck at the mafia with the same tactic. Inciting fear as dark crystals grew from the ground, and spread out like a plague. Devouring groups of man, who would fire their rifles either at the crystals, or into the alleyway the crystals had come from. Each time they did though, Xerxes had moved to cover, the bullet striking some other part of the two buildings. An entire street would be covered in those dark crystals, before vanishing back into the cup he held in his hand. Each time wiping out at least ten men, leaving only their bones and clothing behind. It was horrifying, but effective.

For the few men he did run into, they would be on the ground, eyes rolling back before they could raise their guns. A curse born of a glare, the Evil Eye. A curse of weakness for most of them, knocking them to the floor and turning their skin dark and ill. They would be too weak to move, and that was more than enough time for Xerxes to move on.

Xerxes was an efficient man. He had lived many years, most of which he had spent watching the growing advent of gunpowder. As if he would ever allow himself to die to a gun.

Those who weren't mafia though, they returned home. Every one of them would see a shimmer, and a voice would tell them to go home. The natives returning to their homes, and they would settle in and stay safe. It was the best Xerxes could do It wasn't that he had anything against the mafia, but if they took the native district without some kind of fight, he wouldn't be able to turn in favors with the yakuza.

One Piece: The Scarlet Pirates

Oh heads up, I'm not posting for a bit, because I'm still trying to think of the great way to introduce Severus. Since I think just him showing up in the same port is kinda boring.

Fate/Italian job - Roman Holy Grail War

A HERO OF THE AGES!

There was that blinding light. That beautiful glow of red that engulfed the room. It was a slow fade till there was merely a man, sitting in the center. He sat in a slouch, on his rear, one leg kicked out, and the other held closer to his chest, knee holding up his arm. Between his arm and body though, was a spear that stretched almost ten feet long, far taller than the man who held it. It was resting at an angle, so as to not slice into the ceiling as the man stirred. Clearly having been comfy for a moment.

But his posture was not the thing that should have drawn Sophia's eyes first. It was his outfit, to a degree of course. A strange purple garment that wrapped around his hands and arms, and covered his face and features. The only visible hair that managed to stick out between the purple bandages was white. Like fresh snow from a mountain. The rest of his outfit though, which covered his chest and legs, was clearly old fashioned. Humble maybe, but with a regal look to it. Semi-long robes, which draped over him in a kingly manner, with a touch of gold trim here and there. Were it not for the regal flares and spear though, it would not have been a stretch for the mage to think she had summoned an assassin, considering how slender and fit he seemed to be.

He stood, spear resting on his shoulders, and his hands holding on to each side. Finally, she could see his eyes. Blood red, as if cursed.
"It is a pleasure to meet you mage. I am a hero of the Lancer class." He said, bowing forward just a bit, careful not to knock over anything with his spear. "You may call me ▅▅▅▅." His true name but a whisper fit only for his summoner's ears. With a smile, Lancer let his spear vanish, dematerializing until he would need to call upon it later.

"Can I have your name?" Lancer said, curiosity getting the better of him. Who was this strange man? Everything about him was so... Polite, and well mannered. Hardly befitting a great hero who had seen battle. Or maybe, this was what a hero looked like? A strange man who hid all but his eyes and the odd patch of hair from the sun? Such an inconsistent feeling one could say.

But before Sophia could reply to anything he had to say, Lancer was already moving around the room. Clearly getting his hands on anything that wasn't nailed down. In particular, the fridge was one of the first things he checked, pulling out a can of beer and stirring the can with a huff. "So much takeout. What a slob-ish lifestyle." But with that out of the way, he snapped open the beer, and raised the can to his lips. Moving only a bit of the purple bandages aside to make his possible. Drinking it down without a single word, and tossing the can easily into the nearest trashcan. "I will have to make cooking a minor task during my stay with you. I cannot have one of my citizens living on such a day to day basis."

Just what kind of person had she summoned?

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_________________________________Saber Class_________________________________
Mission Complete? - Western Farmlands
@Sageage-@Scallop-@ReallyDumb

As his blade passed through Jack's wrists, Roland came to a stop. Standing right there in front of Jack for that one horrible minute as the boy's own severed hands fell to the ground. Two wet smacks, hidden behind that metal clank of the holy blade. Roland didn't move, instead he just glared at Jack, his eyes narrows as the thief ran, screaming back at him with curses. Kill him. Stab him while he runs.

But Roland didn't give chance. Instead he watched Jack run. He could still chase. Still drive a blade into Jack's back. But there wasn't any good that would come from that. Instead... Roland felt... Satisfied. Striking Jack in the back would have been disgusting, but the boy turned at the last minute. Honor preserved. Besides, justice was dealt. The justice for theft was to slice off the hands.
Kill him! Kill that sack of meat before he gets too far!

For some reason though... Roland could feel a voice in his head. Something pounding. Something...

Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

Roland's head turned to his hand, which had already begun to reach down for the fallen Durandal. But slowly, he realized that his hand was drifting not towards the blade.

But Jack's severed hands. Meaty, glistening, and coated in blood that drained down into the ground. Soaking down into the farmlands. The scent of iron flowed Roland's senses. And then he realized, there was a taste of iron too.

Those green eyes snapped from the hands to his arm. This was his new arm. The one covered in a shroud. But the shroud was looser now. And coated in a spray of blood.

Jack's blood. I am awake. KILL HIM! Devour him before he gets away! I need him! I NEED FRESH MEAT!

His arm had woken up, and through those loose bandages, Roland could see an eye. A bloodshot eye, staring right back at him. The shroud fell away, and Roland took a step back in shock. He was too brave for fear. The arm was a pitch black thing. But red and blue veins pulsed visibly beneath dark skin, and there was the eye.

FEED ME!

Then there was the mouth. The arm split open up to the elbow, and teeth glistened in a disgusting mouth. saliva and spit, and tusks! Fangs! A tongue, like a tentacle pushed from that filthy maw, and snapped down around those blood drenched hands.

SNAP! ^CRUNCH! _SQUELCH! Slobber and spit drenched the floor as Roland fell to his knees. Grabbing the shroud, and like a belt he wrapped it around his own spittle covered arm. _{SPLAT! GLORP! GLUK!} Tying it tightly, he looked down upon that slobbering thing as the blood on the shroud began to vanish. Drunken up like another treat. Until another knot, and the arm was still, and Roland let out a sigh of relief.

"There we go. All better." He laughed, as if nothing had just happened. He planted the gift from Dietrich into the ground, and picking up Durandal, he placed that great sword back into its sheath. For now, everything was calm again. There was no more danger, and Jack was probably gone by now. Having run home to his master. He didn't need to see what became of his hands.

"So Trieu, I still owe you a duel, do I not?" Roland said, standing to full and turning to the Rider still waiting for him. "I do hope you enjoyed our hunt together."

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_{This post contains hidden messages. Reread and highlight to uncover the messages.}

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Are you guys EXCITED FOR A NEW CHARACTER!?

Avenger

_________________________________________________________________________________________
Name: ?????
Title: ????????????
Class: Avenger
Gender: Male
Birth and Death Dates: Age of Man
Alignment: Neutral
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Personality: ????????????

Bio: ????????????

Weapon: ????????????
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Parameters:
Strength: ?
Endurance: ?
Agility: ?
Magical Energy: ?
Luck: ?
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Class Skills:
- ??? ?: ????????????
- ??? ?: ????????????
- ??? ?: ????????????

Personal Skills:
- ??? ?: ????????????
- ??? ?: ????????????
- ??? ?: ????????????

_________________________________________________________________________________________

NOBLE PHANTASMS

Noble Phantasms

???

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_________________________________Saber Class_________________________________
CATCHING THAT DIRTY THIEF!
@Sageage-@Scallop-@ReallyDumb

Right... Should have expected this to happen. In fact, Roland had not only expected it to happen, it was the very reason he had chosen to sit on the head of the mighty Elephant instead of standing elsewhere or sitting alongside Trieu. Sitting next to Trieu would have made it difficult to suddenly leap to action, but from where Roland was, sitting right on the head, with his feet resting just on the front of the face.

Roland was in fact, 100% ready for Jack to run. In the very moment Jack's feet were reached out, in the very moment Jack was kicking off the ground, Roland was doing the exact same thing. He leaned foward, and with a force like a monster, he kicked off, like a missile. Where was Jack would have to gain his speed, Roland's action of kicking off as he did was comparison to that of a rocket going off. No. Rockets are too slow. Roland, empowered by his own song, and the strength of the odds against him, was greater than any bullet leaving the barrel of a weapon.

His hand already on one of the two blades on his hip, and as Roland was flying through the air, the blade was slicing in an arc. Going from Jack's hip, to Jack's shoulder. A fatal blow, and crippling to a runner even if the blade didn't make the full path. In the less than half second since Jack had started running, Roland was upon him, and by the time Jack's mouth was opening to speak the invocation, the blade of Roland was passing through his stomach. By the time Roland foot touched the ground to make chase with Jack, the boy's upper half would be spinning away from his lower half, and his grip on Durandal no doubt having been lost when his arms where sliced through.

Despite Jack's ability to disengage, both parties had started from the same starting line, without a huge gap between them that Jack could have relied on for extra protection. This had in short granted Roland the very lack of distance he had required to make this chase short.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_________________________________Saber Class_________________________________
Northern Moor
@Sageage-@Scallop

"It seems all the honorable servants are stuck with dishonorable masters, who chose to hide in their bases till the end of the war." Roland said, climbing up onto the massive creature his fellow servant had summoned. Climbing up the trunk, and being lifted higher, he took a seat next to the Rider, finding it rather comfortable. Shockingly, he had ridden an Elephant before. Long ago... When he was alive. Long ago. With Olivier.

--------------
"So, this is India?" The speaker smiled, looking off into the distance of such a magnificent land that stretched before him. He looked to his right, and there Olivier was, sighing out loudly.
"Roland, do I need to remind you that this isn't some holiday." Olivier seemed to drag Roland back down to earth, despite how he seemed so eager to be exploring. "Need I remind you exactly why we're here?"
"Of course not!" Roland declared, puffing up his chest, and looking away from Olivier. "Yes..." He hissed out, after the long silence of Olivier's judgemental stares.
"We're getting you an Oliphant Horn. Elephants are great for that kind of thing, or som-"
"We're going after a unicorn."
"A unico- Roland! Nobody can catch a Unicorn!" Olivier hissed, and nudged Roland right in the side. "I won't allow it. We'd spend years hunting, and nothing of value would come from it."
"Well, I shall prove that it can be done." Roland clutched Durandal, and he was off, horse galloping into the fields of India, passing by herds of the mighty elephant. And Olivier following in annoyance. But what else could be done with a man like Roland? Such a person would refuse to live life by the rules of others. Maybe that was why god seemed so interested in making sure Olivier was there to keep him in line.
--------------

But while Roland's mind drifted back to India, and his triumph there, he snapped back just in time to the hunt. The hunt itself was rather... Interesting. Workshop. Workshop. Workshop. A school with cannons on it. A bunch of insects eating corpses. Roland didn't get involved, but for a moment Trieu could hear a prayer on his lips. But he had a mission, and burying all those bodies would be a meaningless venture. After all, they had been claimed by the Matous.
"They did not deserve this." Roland said, his gaze drifting along the meaningless carnage. "But I cannot change that. Instead, I will make sure nothing else like it happens again." He said, and turned his eyes away from that tragic scene. The thudding hooves of the elephant filled the air, and they were gone. His master made aware of the tragedy at Fuyuki park.

________________________________
Western Farms

But then... They found him. The Western farm districts, which was surprisingly nice this time of year. A large, empty stretch of road left them all exposed, but such things couldn't be helped. At the very least, it was a very pleasant location, and Roland could easily understand such a desire to simply, walk around and around.

But neither Roland or Trieu were subtle servants, and the massive elephant they rode upon was the largest most obvious thing a servant could ride upon. Thud Thud Thud. The elephant thumped down the street, and there was Roland sitting on the head of the regal beast, with a smile flashing from ear to ear. Looking as non-offensive as possible.

"Well hello there, long time no see." Roland said, as the elephant began to walk alongside the green clothed servant. "You know, you're not an easy servant to find. Well, comparatively."

Trieu smirked and began to slide her sword from it's sheath, the red blade shining as the metal glinted against the sun. "Understand even for such a thief as yourself, we don't intend to fight you, but if you do not give this man his sword, there will be blood" She sat behind Roland staring at jack. This rogue..sent shivers down her spine. He reminded her very much of a cowardly traitor in the ranks of Vietnamese soldiers.

"Please be more... civil..." Roland sighed out, and were this an anime, he would have had a sweatdrop. "But yes, please return my blade."

@ReallyDumb

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

@Lucifina

Have fun. Maybe join the Discord chat, we can get you up to speed.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_________________________________Saber Class_________________________________
Northern Moor
@Sageage-@Scallop

"I understand the... Nervousness of such a meeting. Your master has no doubt heard of the ever increasing dangers the war is bringing on. I understand why they have likely remained safe in their home." Roland wasn't one to judge, since he himself had tried to convince him master to remain at the Einzbern manor and let the servants travel around and get involved in the war. Naturally, the horse man refused, feeling the need to help the people. Roland of course, let him. He was a hero, not a kidnapper, and would never force such a man to work against his own will. In fact, he was jealous. Such desire, to fight the odds without a upper hand like a servant. How noble. How... Admirable. It made him feel alive again.

The sword thrown at his feet was picked up from the ground, and clutched in his hand. It was nowhere near the power of the other sword the Rider wielded, but it carried a mystery, much like the other blade given to him the other Rider who followed the Einzberns. He wondered for a while what that Rider was up to. He was indeed a powerful man, but his master played him far to defensively. He expected that man to probably be pacing at that manor now, itching for any kind of battle against a foe he could consider on his level. Roland hoped that man would find his battle. But for now, Roland was searching for his own, and such a man would be dangerous for such a hunt.

"You saved my life." Roland said, as if replying to her talk about his actions. "I doubt I would have had the chance to escape if you hadn't done what you did. Even if the fires did spread, I won't tell anyone. As a paladin of my uncle, it would be nothing short of an insult if I attempted to turn you in after saving my life. I'm no criminal, or assassin." Placing the second sword in a new sheath on his belt, he reached out with his unaltered arm to shake Trieu's own. "I owe you a great deal, and I will owe you again once this mission is over. Once I have regained my blade, I shall give you an honorable duel. From one great hero to the other." There was a smile, and he was looking into the distance.

"Well, when you're ready." Roland let out a smile, as that idiot hero began to march out of the Moor. His eyes focused on the future. "So, do you have a name? Mine is Roland. I feel it would be dishonorable of me to not inform you, since I owe you such a debt."

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

_________________________________Saber Class_________________________________
Northern Moor
@Sageage-@Scallop

Roland remembered her from the bar last night. When he had left, he had managed to run right into a familiar face. At the fire, his life had been saved by a Rider class servant. And now, he had come to the Northern Moor to meet up with her. Because the two of them had a mission. This wasn't his territory, but as honorable man, he suspected the one who had saved his life was the honorable sort too, at least from their talking at the bar.

But there was one thing that did cause him just a tad concern. It was his missing arm. Or to be more exact, his no-longer missing arm. A set of heavy black bandage like material was wrapped around his torso, and covered what seemed to be a new arm, replacing the one that Roland had lost earlier that week. The witch that had given him back his arm had been cryptic for the reasons behind why. But now, he had something brand new, and he planned to use it. Use it to get back the things he had lost.

"Where are you... Rider?" Roland grumbled out softly, standing there in the open, hand drumming against his sword. He gazed across the moors, and took in the sights and sounds. It was... Peaceful enough.