I once tried to cross Strawberry Panic with Total War...

Due to various reasons, mostly because I have the attention span of an infant, the project fell through. However, some of the core concepts I have been recycling into my other, more serious works, the most important being "Sappy romantic anime + Jeff Van Dyck = Inspiration".

Here be two excerpts - they are admittedly not the best of my writings, but it might suffice for some laugh and giggles. Be warned: Crack Fic doesn't even begin to describe the lines that follows...

From the diaries of King Harold the Crusader, July 12, 16XX, AC (Alternate Calendar).

Basileus ton Romaion, Emperor of Rome…

At the very least that title has a nice ring to it. At most, a ring sweeter than honey, more addicting than the best wine, more alluring than a maiden’s eyes. That is no exaggeration. The one that controls Rome has before him greatness beyond the grasp of his fellow men; the power to rule the world. A firm ruler at the peak of Roman glory will no doubt have the entire mortal realms bow down to him. The call of power is greater than all other calls, be that of man, woman, or even God himself.

Rome itself is the stuff of legends. Most, if not all of my soldiers have never once seen the Eternal City of Seven Hills. Ironically enough, those were the same soldiers who had gone as far as Acre and Jerusalem, observed the True Cross and various relics of the Saints and Jesus Christ himself, and relished in a variety of exotic goods the Arabs hastily left behind as they fled the fields of battle.

Of course we have all seen Constantinople with our own eyes. Constantinople, a fine city gilded with much gold and decorated with no less magnificent architecture. Constantinople, the city whose walls cannot be breached by any mortal construct to date. Constantinople, a grand display of wealth and power of those claiming to succeed Roman glory. And yet the people know it is not the same. Just ask; any drunken lout strolling the streets and taverns of New Rome can tell it is but a poor replica of the Eternal City, a blasphemous heresy to the faith that is the Seven Hills. There can be no replacement, no replacement for the heart of the glorious Roman Empire of the ages past.

That being said, it was perhaps for my best interest that my soldiers be kept from Rome of today and dreaming about the Rome of the ages past. Rome of today is but a mere shadow of what it used to be. Even the Popes have failed where Augustus had succeeded. Just several miles from the walls of the Eternal City, Italian dukes are dividing the historic homeland of the proud Romans among themselves with sweat, blood and a pathetic mockery of Roman steel. Diplomacy, papal gifts, even threats of excommunication could not stop those petty warlords from massacring one another for land and gold – Land and gold that were supposed to belong to the Res Publica or the Imperium.

Not that I can blame the Papal State. The very concept of Roman virtue itself had for long been thrown to the wild dogs. As a wise man once told me, greed can take humans as far as it can sink them low. Having grown accustomed to gold and silver and exotic goods, now the children and grandchildren of the proud Legions find themselves more at home with money and bean counting rather than fighting for the Roman glory their ancestors used to hold in the highest esteem. Now the common Italian folk’s idea of warfare is to hide behind the city wall and their pavises and snipe their foes with crossbows like the cowards they are. If Scipio, Fabius and Brutus could see how decadent their descendants have grown, they would roll in their graves and cry tears of shame.

You may ask what this all has to do with me. Indeed the incumbent holder of the Royal Danish Crown could care less about the state of Rome. Or perhaps even rejoice at the fact that our warriors need not be troubled with another potential foe. If they were still around at their prime, no known army in the world could resist the trample of a dozen Legions, let alone craft a rivaling empire under their nose.

Even if I were concerned, what good could it do, you may ask. If generations after generations of Christs on Earth could not restore Rome to its former glory, what can a Dane like myself, a child of the forest and the sea and the longboat possibly do? At most I could probably shake my head respectfully at how such a mighty people came to its demise.

But I care.

Because Rome was supposed to be mine by birthright. Not just Rome, but Athens, Pella, Sparta and Frankfurt too. I am as much a Roman, Greek, Macedonian and German as I am a Dane, thanks to my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents. I am one of those mix-blooded hybrids born unto this world, if only for God himself having seen fit to stuff as many bloodline as he could into one body.

I am one such abominations. And one proud abomination born to rule them all, I may add. Right now I am but a minor king of Denmark, but one day I shall rule the empire of Augustus himself. And Alexander’s as well, when the time comes.

Going down that road – the road of power and conquest, means dealing with all my rivals in one way or another. And there are more than a few willing to stake everything they have to stand in my way.

I am willing to stake my life on the path I have chosen. For I am Harold Handerson, King of Denmark, Lord of Antwerp and Prince of Greenland. My path is set in stone – To become the ruler of a new Roman Empire.

From the diaries of Hanazono Kanno, President of Hanazono Heavy Industries, January 13, 16X1 AC.

… Even now I am still trembling from the overwhelming news. At the moment, no one has known about it, though right now I feel like shouting out loud for all to hear. It is just that great news. No, ‘news’ doesn’t cut it. Let me put it at ‘opportunity’. Yes, an opportunity. An opportunity worth more than my daughter’s weight in diamond and precious gems.

I still don’t understand why the Danish agent would ask me to keep this quiet for the time being. It is supposed to be a huge celebration, a huge celebration both for their kingdom and for my business! Not everyday would the sovereign of such a dominant world power go out of his way to ask for the humble hand of a businessman’s daughter in marriage! When I heard it, I could hardly believe my ears!

Now that I thought of it, his choice could only be logical. My trade fleet holds the monopoly of several important goods in both France and Denmark. The French crown owes my business quite a few florins. There are some exclusive deals of strategic goods we have secured with the Danes. The French and Danes must value us more than some of their lesser nobles. A proud boast, yes, but has its basis in reality. I have lived for long enough, at least I know that much.

And I haven’t even taken Shizuma into the equation yet. I am talking about the most popular girl out there in the entire of the Astraea Hill complex. This isn’t even a boast – it is a fact, and anyone staying in the Strawberry Dorms can testify it. They say the French are the best lovers in the whole world, and when some of the lesser noble of their court fell heads over heels with her on sight, there can be no better guarantee about her charm. When this marriage is set in stone, perhaps one day… one day I will have a grandson to whom the entire of Denmark would bow. It is a literally riskless endeavor with infinite return.

… The girl shall be under tremendous pressure, however.

The reports suggested that she still hadn’t recovered from what had happened two years ago. Who could have known that getting into a relationship with a girl with leukemia would wreck her so. If I could rewind time, I’d definitely take measures against it.

There’s no point now crying over spilt milk. What I must focus on now is how to best fix the situation. Wonderful as Shizuma is, if she presents herself before the King of Denmark with the kind of visage one would have at a funeral, I risk losing the deal, or even my business with the Danes. I can afford neither.

Perhaps tomorrow I will have to go to St. Miator’s Academy myself. This is the time for emergency measures…

edited 6th Jan '11 6:28:46 AM by ArgeusthePaladin

This crossover idea is highly improbable, absurd, and quite honestly ridiculous.

...

...You are a man after my own heart. Proceed.

(I know nothing about Strawberry Panic, but hopefully that won't be too much of a barrier to enjoyment.)

edited 6th Jan '11 4:34:23 PM by Specialist290

You are talking to an insane crossoverer who likes to cross Total War and history in general with everything