A bit of a change of subject, but I was wondering about the characters of the Personae. Newly fused Personae give little blurbs about themselves, and Igor usually describes the Wild Card's Personae as distinct entities within himself, so will our Personae (initial or otherwise) be characters in-and-of-themselves?
Zendrelax Member
I am Spartacus!
- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 353 (0.08 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Zendrelax 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Gruffydd was greatly entertained by the Professor. He was aloof, to be sure, and he seemed dismissive of the course and his students, but according to Ms. Sasaki, the two of them had both put a great deal of effort into actually getting this course into the school for the year. And then there was the fact that the Professor pronounced his name correctly—nobody pronounced his name correctly, not in this country, not without serious concerted effort. And while it was possible that he had put that effort in, Gruffydd didn't think it was very likely.
Then he mentioned his hangover. Gruffydd managed to keep his laughter restrained to a chuckle, but it was difficult. Of course he's distant. He can probably barely think through his pounding headache. It's his own fault for drinking on the last day of Summer, but I guess that only makes it all the funnier. Gruffydd grabbed his share of the equipment, before following after Ms. Sasaki. A fieldwork-based class? Well, this just might be more interesting than I thought.
The "equipment," whatever it was, was fairly heavy. Gruffydd wasn't having too much trouble with it, owing to his considerable bulk, but he had to admit to himself that he couldn't go on like this forever. But things took a turn for the strange when Ms. Sasaki found a great big hole in the ground. A great big circular hole. Housing a large, shadowy arm.
He was as stunned as most of his classmates when it reached up and grabbed Ms. Sasaki, but he sprung into action when Kazuo called for it. Fat lot of good it did, though, aside from delaying the inevitable. His mind and speech were a rain of Welsh expletives as he was dragged into the abyss.
Gruffydd woke to the panicked shouting of the other white guy—Jonathan, wasn't it?—and soon came to the realization that he was in some twisted version of Nichibotsu. At first he panicked, his heartbeat echoing in his ears, his every limb trembling as he worked his way to his feet. Kazuo mentioned finding some method of defense, finding a way out. Part of him was furious at the transfer student—How the ever-loving fuck can he be so calm!?—but he kept that part of him in check. Nagashi was right after all.
His anger did eke out when one of his classmates, Gruffydd forgot his name, asked them to pardon an "outburst." "There's a few more important things to think about than propriety." But he stopped himself there. No. That won't get you anywhere. We've got to get out. Out of this madhouse. How did we get in here in the first place? Right, Ms. Sasaki and the arm. The arm of... whatever thing carrying her is, most likely. So... find another hole? No, that was nonsense, his mind wandered briefly, over how they'd been near the hole in the first place. Because the Professor had sent them... The Professor...
"Unlucky you, getting stuck in this class."
Gruffydd could feel a pit growing in his stomach. He knew. It was the only reasonable explanation, to Gruffydd's mind, swept up in his anger as it was. He allowed the concession that the Professor might not have known that it would happen, but Gruffydd was convinced that he knew it could. If he were in his right mind, he might protest how little evidence that actually was to go on, but he wasn't in his right mind.
Then that same classmate who madethe "outburst" decided to set off after Sasaki. Sasaki. Sasaki. The Professor's assistant. She'd actually been trying to tell us what the fuck was up with that hole before that arm appeared. And then, as another classmate opted to join the first, Gruffydd realized a few things.
"Ms. Sasaki seemed to know a bit about the hole. She might actually know a way out. Getting her back is probably our best bet for getting out of this place." All signs of fear had vanished. It was still there, inside of him, but it had been buried under a mountain of anger, and the resolve to get back to the school and get an explanation out of the Professor, ideally by force.
Then he mentioned his hangover. Gruffydd managed to keep his laughter restrained to a chuckle, but it was difficult. Of course he's distant. He can probably barely think through his pounding headache. It's his own fault for drinking on the last day of Summer, but I guess that only makes it all the funnier. Gruffydd grabbed his share of the equipment, before following after Ms. Sasaki. A fieldwork-based class? Well, this just might be more interesting than I thought.
Noon
The "equipment," whatever it was, was fairly heavy. Gruffydd wasn't having too much trouble with it, owing to his considerable bulk, but he had to admit to himself that he couldn't go on like this forever. But things took a turn for the strange when Ms. Sasaki found a great big hole in the ground. A great big circular hole. Housing a large, shadowy arm.
He was as stunned as most of his classmates when it reached up and grabbed Ms. Sasaki, but he sprung into action when Kazuo called for it. Fat lot of good it did, though, aside from delaying the inevitable. His mind and speech were a rain of Welsh expletives as he was dragged into the abyss.
Unknown
Gruffydd woke to the panicked shouting of the other white guy—Jonathan, wasn't it?—and soon came to the realization that he was in some twisted version of Nichibotsu. At first he panicked, his heartbeat echoing in his ears, his every limb trembling as he worked his way to his feet. Kazuo mentioned finding some method of defense, finding a way out. Part of him was furious at the transfer student—How the ever-loving fuck can he be so calm!?—but he kept that part of him in check. Nagashi was right after all.
His anger did eke out when one of his classmates, Gruffydd forgot his name, asked them to pardon an "outburst." "There's a few more important things to think about than propriety." But he stopped himself there. No. That won't get you anywhere. We've got to get out. Out of this madhouse. How did we get in here in the first place? Right, Ms. Sasaki and the arm. The arm of... whatever thing carrying her is, most likely. So... find another hole? No, that was nonsense, his mind wandered briefly, over how they'd been near the hole in the first place. Because the Professor had sent them... The Professor...
"Unlucky you, getting stuck in this class."
Gruffydd could feel a pit growing in his stomach. He knew. It was the only reasonable explanation, to Gruffydd's mind, swept up in his anger as it was. He allowed the concession that the Professor might not have known that it would happen, but Gruffydd was convinced that he knew it could. If he were in his right mind, he might protest how little evidence that actually was to go on, but he wasn't in his right mind.
Then that same classmate who madethe "outburst" decided to set off after Sasaki. Sasaki. Sasaki. The Professor's assistant. She'd actually been trying to tell us what the fuck was up with that hole before that arm appeared. And then, as another classmate opted to join the first, Gruffydd realized a few things.
"Ms. Sasaki seemed to know a bit about the hole. She might actually know a way out. Getting her back is probably our best bet for getting out of this place." All signs of fear had vanished. It was still there, inside of him, but it had been buried under a mountain of anger, and the resolve to get back to the school and get an explanation out of the Professor, ideally by force.
Yep, weird. The good kind of weird. I was part of an amateur stage production that ended recently and... well... have you ever heard of a cast party? If you have, it's dialed back a bit from what you're probably thinking of, but weird nonetheless. And fun.
Sorry it took so long to get my post up. Today was weird.
April 9th / Sunday / Sunny
Dawn was braking, and Gruffydd was already awake. He had not, as some did, pulled an all-nighter. There would be time enough for that once the school year had begun properly. No, Gruffydd was awake to greet the dawn. It had been fortunate that he lacked a roommate, else he would disturb them, but Koden Academy had given him what he desired, even if it was by complete accident.
The large student was on his knees, bowing his head towards the rising sun. "Wyneb y Beli Mawr, Belyn, bwrw glaw i lawr o'r haul ar y cerrig a'r glaswellt. Mae'r diwrnod wedi dechrau." He breathed in, and then out, before finally standing. He bowed his head once more to the dawn, before turning away.
It was strange, some might say, to worship gods long forgotten by most of the rest of the world, but Gruffydd did not think so. Perhaps it was the pride that his parent's had instilled in him for his heritage, perhaps it was something he clung to in a country where he was—even amongst friends—very much out of place, or perhaps it was simply as much a part of him as his eyes or hands, but Gruffydd could not conceive of himself as worshiping anything but the gods of his ancestors—Beli Mawr and Belyn, in the case of this prayer.
Having dressed for the day before greeting the dawn, Gruffydd decided that he would celebrate the last day of Summer Break by eating breakfast at one of his favorite restaurants in the area. It was a small local thing, nowhere near the prestige of the Cafe Fortuna, but Gruffydd found the atmosphere and the food to be positively delightful. It was a slow day, so he struck up a conversation with one of the employees on break. The topics varied, and Gruffydd's laughter echoed through the establishment, but eventually his food was finished, and his partner had to get back to work.
Unsure of what to do with his day, Gruffydd eventually wandered into a book store—The Rabbit Hole. He didn't really know the proprietor or his daughter, but he came here enough that they recognized him—as if he were hard to pick out in a crowd. He practically stalked the bookshelves, seeking older and more obscure texts. He found a musty tome or two, and purchased them.
He returned to his dorm room, books in tow, and set them down on his desk. He would read them in time. First, he had his figure to maintain. His muscles were no accident. Sure, he had been well served by the genetic lottery, but these sorts of things come with effort, and he was well-acquainted with effort, just like everyone else at Koden Academy. Granted, most students directed that effort exclusively towards academics, sports, or clubs, but he would accept nothing less than physical perfection from himself—or at least, what he saw as physical perfection.
His exercise done, and his body adorned in sweat, he crashed back into the chair at his desk. He grabbed the most interesting of the day's purchases, a collection of folk-tales from around Japan. It consumed him until the time came for him to sleep—earlier than most, because of his early rise.
April 10th / Monday / Sunny
The dawn came, and Gruffydd had risen to greet it as he had the day before. Today's breakfast was less exciting than the day before—it was, after all, the first day of school. Of course, the early riser that he was, it would be a while yet before he had to be in class. After eating his breakfast, he resumed reading the book that had so absorbed him the day before. Folk tales were a strange thing. The stories of the people, forged from custom and religion and focused through the lens of everyday life. He was very familiar with those of his homeland, masked as they were in the foreign influence of the Romans and the Saxons. He could certainly appreciate a folk tradition as untainted as Japan's.
He appreciated it so much that he was almost late to class. His book had him so enraptured that he would have spent the entire morning reading if, while reaching over to drink from his glass of water, he had not chance a glance at the clock. He swore, and quickly gathered his things and set off for his first class of the day. Geography, eh? he thought, Well, not my idea of a good time, but school rarely is. I suppose the lay of the land can get pretty interesting, at times. I guess I'll just have to see how this goes. He was at the tail-end of the class filtering in, but by no means late. He recognized a few faces from around the classroom, but he didn't really know these people. There was one person that he knew he didn't recognize—a transfer student, maybe?—reading a book. And another white guy. Well, this is going to be interesting, if only for the company here.
I hereby vote for he name "Kazuo Nagashi." And that Bride wears whatever uniform @Destinyfailhorror17 desires.
@Zendrelax I need you to lower Cleave's damage to at least 27 or lower both Zio and Garu to at least 28. And man, that's a tough name hahaha
I went with weakening Cleave. As for the name... yeah, Welsh pronunciation can be pretty difficult for the uninitiated.
Here it is, friends.
And just to get ahead of this: Herne is not a god. Sure, his origins may be in the enigmatic Cernunnos, but the Christianization of the British Isles made him a decidedly non-deific character.
And just to get ahead of this: Herne is not a god. Sure, his origins may be in the enigmatic Cernunnos, but the Christianization of the British Isles made him a decidedly non-deific character.
I would like to reserve the Moon Arcana, with Hermit and Hanged Man as alternates, please.
© 2007-2026