PARTY PARTY PARTY I WANNA HAVE A PARTY
Darryl Xavier, The Ambassador Hotel, 24th floor
Darryl finished dabbing the mercury onto a tarp he'd laid out in his suite's living room. Wiping sweat off his brow, he looked up to inspect over an hour's worth of careful painting. He hoped to god his hand hadn't slipped somewhere... it hadn't, had it?
Anticipation and worry made him fidget almost uncontrollably, but still he smiled. While he was anxious, he was also excited. This was going to be so awesome! He was actually going to summon an ancient hero! More than that, a knight of the Round Table! Granted, he didn't know which, since all the Clocktower could find him was a chunk of a chair, but still! They were all so... so...
He could barely contain himself, but he tried nonetheless. Had to look professional. First impressions count, especially with these ancient ones. Honor, valor, and all that. He had to look his best to win their trust. He'd hate to start off on the wrong foot with his partner for the rest of a few weeks...
He took a deep breath, and stood in front of the circle, his feet on the tarp. "Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.
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 every five times.
Simply, shatter once filled.
――――I announce.
Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword.
In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.
Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.
You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――"\\
My King
On the grassy hills with the French maiden
"As you say ma'am," said Diomedes. The King of Argos stood slightly behind the woman. Fate had brought him into her service, a strange partnership. Or was it a Master/Servant relationship again? Diomedes had only one goal now. His wish, that lay in the future, but his immediate goal was clear. He needed to find her.
A nice apartment, Careen City
Aaron took a bite out of the arm that he held, taking care not to let the blood get on his suit. After ripping off as much flesh as he could, he unhinged his jaw and ate the rest whole. He looked over at three corpses laying in the corner. Fresh kills, college students that weren't prepared for the Dark Apostle to break in. They were easy victims, and Aaron had taken care to leave them in one piece?
"Dear, would you like a bite?"
He directed his question towards the woman lounging on the couch. "I understand that I am a fine Master, but such measures are both pleasurable and effective."
Aaron laughed. What luck he had! Whatever the situation, he would enjoy life to the fullest.
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Beowulf
A viking stood in the center of Zhang's summoning circle. A warrior of madness, allegedly, but he certainly didn't look the part. He was old. Sad. He stared at his Master with sullen eyes, eyes that didn't want to see any more blood. He drew his swords, and pointed them at the man. "Be you my Master, man of slanted eyes? I am Beowulf, wielder of Naegling and Hrunting. Should you require me, I am here to serve you as a Berserker. But should you simply be summoning me for frivolity, I will cut you down. Speak!"
Near the Archwood Blast Crater.
George Karaway Goldstein, The Amazing Goldstein, stared into his assistant's eyes. Olivia's eyes. Damn, that assistant's outfit looked beautiful. Traditional one-piece outfit with a skirt, all a nice burgundy. She had finished her training, and not a moment too soon. The command seals were ready, the summoning was ready. Things were about to get real, and George wanted to make sure that whatever happened, the magic would live on. The show would go on without him. They were backstage. Children were cheering, ready for their final trick. A teleportation rune was set up onstage. Simply a little more mana and two rituals would be completed at once. One transporting the old Apprentice, now fellow Master, to the upper catwalks of the stage. A second summoning circle was there, as well, to summon the next assistant. His Servant. Goldstein gave Olivia a peck on the forehead, slid his tophat and cape on, and dramatically stepped on stage, bellowing in laughter before beginning the show.
"LADIEES AND GENTLEMEN! THANK YOU FOR COMING!" George posed dramatically as Olivia calmly followed. These children, these survivors, they needed a good show. So much had been lost in Archwood. George was giving them something, if not to replace it, then at least to help the hurt hurt less. "I know times have been hard, but I thank you all for bearing with me." George eyed the children, some young, some old. Some full adults that he had entertained as children. "Now, many of you know my beautiful assistant, Olivia. You've seen her do her own tricks," on cue, Olivia shot a flock of doves out from under her skirt. "And you've seen her learn under my wing. Well, Olivia, I am proud to declare you a full wizard!!"
George tossed Olivia up in the air—in fact just picked her up, heaved, and repeatedly teleported her short distances—and caught her. "Our final trick, and the first trick with my new assistant..."
The music started.
Blue light crackled around the edges of the stage. A box was lowered onto the stage. Olivia climbed in. "You may know this trick!" George walked around the stage, drawing swords from under seats. "But I thought you'd like us to relive our finest moments! The first trick Olivia and I ever did!" George now had three swords in each hand, and at The final countdown!! whipped all six at the box. A portal opened the instant the swords embedded into the box, teleporting out the other side, with the hilts stuck in the walls of the box. George carefully staggered these throws so that he only had his one portal open at any time. "These swords will finish your ascendance to true wizardry, Olivia!" George roared, approaching the front of the box as the guitar solo began. He hurled bolts of energy towards the blades—really just a basic light trick any Mage could do—and charged the whole thing with energy. "We say goodbye to Olivia, now!"
There was a poof of smoke, and the swords each disappeared, portals once again opening and dumping them backstage. The teleportation rune fired and transported Olivia up to the catwalks in an instant, and at the same time the second summoning ritual began. "And I'd like you all to meet my new Assistant! Please, put your hands together..." Real lightning crackled around the stage now, the lightning of a Servant being summoned.
"For The Rider! Stronger than the strongest man! Braver than the most brazen lion! With me, children, roar to get him out here!" George, and the rest of the crowd, yelled dramatically, summoning George's Servant into being.
What Used To Be The Archwood Abbey
In another part of the city, a much more lonely and dilapidated part, there was yet another Master preparing yet another summoning circle. His weapons were neatly arranged around one wall. The sacraments had been read. Marty Barnes stood, and raised a hand. "Servant, come! You, Servant of Egypt! Setne!!"
edited 10th Feb '13 6:51:06 PM by Taco
PARTY PARTY PARTY I WANNA HAVE A PARTY
Circe
"You're too kind~", the unnaturally seductive woman said, a pur running through her voice. She rose slowly, taking her time to stretch before approaching one of the corpses, and promptly ripping the invisible soul right out of the lifeless flesh shell in a quick and brutal stroke. Holding the poor deceased boy's soul in her hand, she licked her lips before devouring it whole. She supposed that in the microcosm of this little world this could be called an unfair tragedy, but the gods were not known to be fair. Nor kind.
She savored the taste of it, of the energy of the soul. Perhaps taste was the wrong word. It was more metaphysical than that. But it was a pleasurable sensation nonetheless, and she felt shivers run through her body as she expressed her satisfaction with the meal. "You certainly know how to treat a woman, Aaron. Not like that fool of a Master I had before you."
Yes, that fool of a Master whose Command Spells she still wore on her hand. He had been a coward, and a weakling. Not to mention annoying. But this one... he was strong. He was a being of fortitude, and iron will. She liked that in a man. She felt like she could have some fun with him. Who knew, he might even make a good lover for the limited time this war let her roam the earth...
edited 10th Feb '13 7:03:30 PM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial
My King
Aaron Skyfield
"Naturally," he said. "We make a good match I think. I provide you with everything you desire, and you kill the things I can't. I feel I can truly enjoy the time we spend together."
Aaron looked at the two Command Spells on his hand, leftovers of his time with Diomedes. In all honesty, he preferred his new Servant. She was effective and decorative. He hadn't tried anything lewd. Such things had never interested him as a Magus. Perhaps now was different though. Perhaps that was another thing he could enjoy.
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The Maid
Such an irrelevant summoning, that of Roden Adawolf. Whenever his Servant was picked as the most fitting for such a wild spirit or as a punishment for his breach of etiquette and disregard of tradition by the Holy Grail would be something that only time could tell.
The fact remains that, after the sound of his clap echoed into the night and his hand pointed at the Heavens, a pink colored Magic Circle flared before the mercenary... conjuring into the night a bedazzling sight unlike anything seen in the world for centuries.
Appearing from a shower of rose colored sparks, a most elegant figure materialized from thin air. Standing at a most adequate height of 160 centimeters, with a slim build to be the envy of any court lady in any land. Bearing a noble face, mischievously framed by pink colored curls tied into a lovely braid on one side with beauteous ribbons of a black color. He was most fashionably dressed for combat and adventure both, with dashing white armored boots, stockings for warmth, and a chain shirt for protection in battle cut with mobility and only mobility, thank you very much, in mind. The warrior's elegant and deft hands were encased in protective white and gold metal gauntlets. To round up the outfit was a white and red fur lined cape on the shoulders of this most dashing figure of the night.
Pink colored lips curled up slightly into a smile, giving new warmth and loveliness into the visage of the knight standing before the mercenary. Eye the color of amethyst opened up, showing a spirit full of nothing but mirth and purity.
One gloved hand moved down to grasp upon the edge of his cape, lifting it just a little to the side while the other was extended invitingly to the dark haired man standing before him. The knight of old lightly tilted his head to the side, still smiling... and then parted his lips to thus say...
"Greetings scruffy man! My name is Astolfo Son of Otto, King of Britain and most proud Pink Paladin of my beloved and incredibly fair and noble King Charlemagne! As I stand here in the night, moved from the Throne of Heroes where all the Heroes are, to this place where they are not and once again have the chance to take in the lovely, if slightly smoky smelling, air of the night I can only come to a single conclusion, the which I must present to you as a question. Could it be possible that I've been summoned to fight in the Holy Grail War and as such that you, scruffy man, are my most honored Master?"
If I'm sure of something it's that I'm not sure of anything.
Burt "The Milkman" Hickey - Archwood, Apartment
Burt's studio was just big enough for him to make the circle. At least, it was once he had moved the sofa and table to the side, put the table on the sofa, put his laptop on the table, and then turned his bed on its side and leaned it against the wall. The walls of the studio were covered in posters, all of which had a picture of him dressed as one of his prior personas, as well as the name written in a stylistic font. Most were just the small bits he had played - The Pilgrim, The Zookeeper, the Plumber. And with the poster of him as the Milkman, wearing the same costume that he currently had copies of in his closet and another few lying around on the floor, that wrapped up his five most popular stage names. Well, not all. He had declined getting that poster of The Klansman - Mississippi had been a very bad place to be low on money when they were looking for a new heel.
"And.... Now what?" he asked himself. The instructions he had... convinced... that funny little guy to give him only went this far. Damn it, he knew he should have made sure they were complete. With not much else of a clue on what to do, this was starting to look less like him using his fancy magic powers and more like some weird-ass freaky cult shit. He could hear his third foster mom calling the pastor in his imagination.
He went into the middle of the circle, and punched the piece of firewood he had put in the center.
And then the log magically exploded into smoke.
Felix Jensen Comacho - Redrock Town, Quonset Hut in an Otherwise Empty Lot
Felix didn't want to risk doing this in his house - or in his bunker - but just doing it outside meant he'd have to risk being seen by the neighbors, so he had erected this cheap Quonset to make sure no one saw any flashing lights, smoke, or anything of that nature - and let him not risk blowing up his house if things didn't work out. He still wasn't even sure if it would work. His parents had had these notes mixed in with their things, but they hadn't taught him anything about it before the accident.
He wrapped the foil around his head - he wasn't an idiot, he knew foil had no effect against mental magic. That's why he had made sure to magically enhance it first. With the rest of the preparations complete, he focused his energy to the center of the Quonset as he tried to visualize the images in the notes, and hoped that this wouldn't backfire.
Boris Roman Vasilyev - De La Mancha, House
In his living room, Boris was looking at the book. He had made sure to put his son on the night shift at the store, so that he wouldn't see what he was doing. Just two weeks ago, when he had bought the book, he had thought it was just another one of those quirky bindings of mad ramblings he would buy for $10 and sell to a collector for $40, but when things started going to hell the next day, some of what it had written started to make sense. It had taken him all night to finally decide that he wanted to go through with it. That, and the History Channel had been playing a midnight marathon of Pawn Stars, followed by a conspiracy show about the Freemasons and Presidents.
Opening it up, he looked at the pages, and then really looked at it as he set it down on the carpeted floor. Seeing how it was composed, he shot it with a bolt of electricity, pouring his strength into it. He couldn't remember the last time he had used such a powerful shock - at least, not this side of the Berlin Wall.
Samson - Wherever Viona is
"This body is... weak," the man said when he appeared sitting down in the middle of the circle, his legs bent in front of him, as he sat in a posture similar to a runner who was taking a break after a large sprint. Clenching a fist a few times to get the feel of it, and then feeling his face and finding a lack of beard, he quickly remembered to check that his hair was still upon his head. It was. "This body is... young." The body truly was young - it was as he was when he had barely been walking the earth for two decades. But... it had eyes, so he could not truly complain.
"Who are you, witch, that dares summon me here?"
Oedipus - Near the Archwood Blast Crater, Magic Show
"AHA! I'm back!" Oedipus happily shouted the moment he appeared, feeling his face with his hands, and blinking a bit. But... what was with all the children? "Uh.... .... .... .... ...." This was certainly not what he would have expected.
PARTY PARTY PARTY I WANNA HAVE A PARTY
Circe
"Everything I desire, huh? That's been a tall order to fill for every man before you." She looped her arms around his neck, caressing his cheek with one hand while the other slipped into his shirt. "But I'm sure you'll manage," she whispered into his ear, her hands making her intent entirely clear. She would not take no for an answer.
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial
My King
Aaron Skyfield
"Every man before me?" he asked. "It seems, Caster, that humanity was as far as they progressed. I am quite beyond that frail existence."
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King of Anime
Florina Winster - Hotel Room - Careen City
Florina looked outside the window of her hotel room in Careen, casting a glance over the remains of the city of Archwood that lay in the distance. Running her fingers through her ponytail, she turned to take in her surroundings. An two desk made out of oak. Cream colored walls. Blue carpet. Two queensized beds with a few untidy clothes tossed over them. Clicking her tongue, she turned to her Servant.
Swishing the red drink in the goblet she held in hand she acknowledged the legendary figure at length. "It has been two weeks since the city went down in flames. And yet no winner has been declared and no news has reached us either way." She gestured to the various articles of clothing. "We should get packing. It is time to see what the other survivors are up to."
On the outskirts of the Archwood Blast Crater
There were 7 figures in sombre black, all standing in a garden of wild roses. The transplant had been a success, and so this memorial would survive even if they did not. Such hardiness could be hardly expected of these plants, if one were to think only of the natural form of these splendid flowers. In the center of this garden was a circle of blood-daubed gold, the platform upon which the head of the seven would bring forth her Servant.
Alexia Talsin, the scarred Magus. She was the crippled alchemist, the deviant coiner of monsters. The six masked servants who flanked her were aberrant mockeries of humans. They were her creations. In a month's time, those six would die regardless of whether the War claimed them or not. Even then, they would spend the rest of their lives in faithful service to their master.
With a tap of her cane, she ended the moment of silence. The time for remembrance had ended.
The homunculi moved into position around the circle. Each of them carried a symbol related to the Servant's legend.
A holm-oak twig, a stone flecked with gold, a platter of meat, a goblet of water, a bushel of grain, and a handful of sand from the Pactolus.
This was not the usual ritual. These items were here to make the summoning easier. It was not in her nature to be a spendthrift with her mana. She had been taught to pare its usage down to the absolute minimum. She hobbled forward, stopping in front of the circle that would serve as her Servant's gate to this world. Her creations set down the items and took a step back to let her work.
With a measured movement, Alexia struck the circle, pulsing mana into it through her cane. She did this five times, each strike containing more force and more mana. With the final strike, she gave one simple command.
"Come forth, Rider."
Who are you calling short?!
Michael Oliver Jones, the return!
Location: A dystopian wasteland renamed Jonesville, formerly a part of Archwood City Ghettos
Mike grinned as the two men before him hacked at each other with the knives he had given them. Oh, boy! This match was a close one! He reclined on his makeshift throne, made from real human bone by the way (He had always had a flair for the dramatic., his two gigantic serpent familiars hissing beside him.
Once again, Mike couldn't help but be grateful for the incredibly dramatic "Holy" Grail War that had happened in his fair city.
Two weeks ago, Mike and Superman had found a small packet of survivors who had banded together. Naturally, being the awesome guy that he was, Mike started protecting the people! As a (benevolent) dictator, of course! Amazing what you can do when you have magic and a gigantic armored man for a bodyguard~!
Now, Jonesville was a utopia! Of course, Sheriff Mike still hated liars, so what's the best solution? Bloody public gladiator fights between criminals of course! Hey, it worked for the Romans.
At that moment, one man, a large, hairy middle-aged chap, finally got the upper hand and stabbed his opponent right at the throat.
"Like hell I'm dying here." grunted the man.
Mike started clapping, a big grin still on his face.
"Excellent work, my good man! now, for your reward."
Everyone watching put their focus on him. What's this about a reward?
"You, lucky man, have earned the great honor of fighting Superman here! ONE ON ONE. To the death."
The man paled. "W-what?! No!"
Mike's grin grew wider. "Ehheheheh...nyahahahhHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!!"
Kay, being emo on top of a certain building
It's starting again, huh? Damn, has it really been two weeks?
The uncharacteristically somber knight looked down at the city where the War would once again rage.
He cannot fail. He will not fail. Not after he lost her.
As he jumped to another building, he contacted his new Master.
This is Saber. Nothing to report yet...
No, failure was definitely not an option. This is for you, Gale.
Setne, the mummy returns
As the magus called, a swarm of flies descended to where he was, followed by a rancid smell, the smell of a decaying body.
Then the flies began joining together, taking the form of a grotesque creature, an undead abomination.
And the monster yawned and spoke in a strangely modern tone of voice.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here? What do you want?"
Aileen and Sean, the Prince manor
Aileen was excited, giggling to herself as she prepared the magic circle. Molten gold, of course. Daddy had taken care of that! Finally, finally! Today was day! The day she would summon her Servant! The first step to happily ever after!
....Sean wasn't so convinced. Part of him still thought that his girlfriend/employer had gone insane, but he didn't have the heart to deny her. Seriously, though, magic?
Sean stared skeptically at the ornate circle. That sure as hell didn't look magical. Hell, to him that looked like a fabulous waste of gold. I mean, Sean could feed his family for a month with that!
"...Are you sure about this, Aileen?" he grunted.
Aileen grinned at him. "Don't worry! This will work out, perfectly!"
...Not what he meant, but whatever. Wait, what's she doing? Wait? Chanting?!
"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg. 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 every five times. Simply, shatter once filled. ――――I announce. Your self is under me, my fate(doom) is in your sword. In accordance with the resort of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer. Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead. You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――!"
Master of the Cliffhanger! Fire Emblem Elibe LP!
Planet-Killer
Jonesville
And there was the superman, a hulking giant of leather, iron and muscle also sitting on a throne of his own; but one that was far more tasteful and regal since it was made from re-purposed marble slabs, intricately carved wood and draped with a carpet that had been "liberated" from an apartment somewhere in the more well-to-do area of the city. But the titan's seeming regality and grace ended there as the throne was atop a mountain of decaying corpses, all of the bodies showing horrific injuries that no human could be capable of inflicting, even with weapons. With a single swift and practiced motion; the giant stood up from his throne and proceeded to slide down from the hill of decaying flesh to meet the liar in mortal combat(read:summary execution).
"For breaking the law of New Ctesiphon I, Emperor Shapur the great; Sentence you to death."
The titan then lashed out with an inhuman speed that betrayed his bulky, armored form and crushed the man's head into a juicy pulp with a palm strike aimed at his nose. Disturbingly enough, this was considered a clean, painless death by the standards of "Jonesville/New Ctesiphon".
Prince Manor
The golden circle then shined brighter than the sun, threatening to permanently damage the eyes of Aileen Prince and her bodyguard before the ever expanding light abruptly began to violate the laws of physics by compacting and condensing into a roughly elliptical halo-like shape that then proceeded to push out a... Simply dressed man with a plain-looking spear and a nondescript round-shield along with a slightly tarnished red cloak handing from his back? But despite his simple attire, the man's body was rippling with iron-hard muscle and wore a long, golden braided beard that reached down to his pecs which perfectly complimented his surprisingly well-groomed shoulder-length blonde hair. The summoned servant wasn't just the very picture of the Gaelic warrior, he could have stepped out of the cover of a fantasy novel.
"Ahhhhh! To have a body again after all these years!"
As soon as the plainly dressed yet incredibly muscular servant was fully out from the "portal", it then anticlimactically faded away like a match being blown. The man then turned towards the couple and introduced himself the only way he knew how. Boastfully.
"Rejoice masters! You have summoned the greatest hero of the Irish lands and leader of the Fianna! Fionn Mac Cumhail!"
edited 11th Feb '13 3:13:15 AM by Strigon
Shameless Self-promotion ho!
Midas - Garden
In the center of the circle, a man appeared, standing tall with his armor and crown. In the dawning sunlight, his golden armor was resplendent as it reflected the equally golden sunlight. Indeed, the waves of the sun were better described as yellow, when compared to the plating they were incident upon.
A moment after he appeared, the man looked down at his coverings, noticing the color. "Oh not this again," Midas muttered, lightly rapping his right knuckles on his left arm and hearing the sound of the metal. Why did it have to be the gold? Truth be told, part of him admired it - the color, the feel, the weight, the scent... the taste - he knew it all too well.
Noticing the flowers, he stepped forward to look at one of the roses. "Ah. It's a thing of beauty, is it not?" he asked the girl with the cane, taking a deep breath with his nose near the petals. "A garden can tell much about its owner," getting up, he approached her, "but sadly, I do not speak their tongue, so I am afraid I shall have to ask, are you she who has summoned me?"
edited 10th Feb '13 11:22:15 PM by nman
Mordred — The Ambassador Hotel, 24th Floor
The circle came to life. It flashed light then died out. A second passed. It flashed again. It repeated the same flash within shorter intervals. It was like light flashing on and off.
Electricity rose up from the floor. It arced from the center of the circle to the outside, taking the full diameter of the shape. It traced the magic circle until it came fully around. Afterward a pillar of bloodred pierced the air, making it all the way to the roof of the room.
The air became riddled with the thick scent of blood. A miasma of crimson flooded the room shortly after.
The sound of crackling lightning.
The residue of the summoning circle vanished and there stood a knight clad in red armor,
"Are..." Saber said as she looked toward her Master. Inside the helmet her eyes became slits, though he wouldn't know. "... you my Master?"
Jeanne — Grassy Hills — Diomedes
"Tell me, Diomedes, why do you continue to follow me?" Jeanne said that as a off-hand remark as she made her way down the grassy hill. She looked t othe dirt at her feet as she said that.
Pebbles, rock, insects. It was proof that they were just coming from the harsh desert that existed between Careen City and Archwood. Not to mention the temperature declining. This place seemed much more nature oriented then the metropolis that was Archwood. Jeanne realized this and smiled.
A change of scenery will do me some good.
Hanuel Zhang — Warehouse, Careen City
"I am your Master." Hanuel answered simply. He wasn't intidimated by the imposing Servant in front of him. Instead of cowering in fear, he continued his chat with the Heroic Spirit.
"This is the farce called the Holy Grail War... I do not have a wish to speak of so you can take it, I merely want to fight the strongest and to defeat the injustice that are Magus. Is this fine with you?" the muscular man said that last part as insurance rather than asking the question. He crossed his arms to await his reply.
Roden Adalwolf — Careen City, Hotel Basement
Roden whistled after Astolfo finished his long-winded rant about who he was. "Alright, let's see here — Scruffy man? The names Roden Adalwolf but you can call me that if you want, it wouldn't be the first time. Second, it's dawn, kid, not night. We're just in a basement." Roden pointed to the walls.
Nope.
No windows. Just complete darkness.
"And yeah, I'm your Master unless this hand of mine is someone else's." Roden pulled up his gloveless right hand to show Astolfo. There were Command Seals upon it in the form of a red tattoo. "Now uh— I was expecting a large, muscular brute of a hero but I guess this is a nice change of pace. Nothing like breaking tradition, right?"
Viona Auttenberg — Careen City, Ruined Basement
"I am... er, Viona Auttenberg. An author that works here in Careen City." the girl looked up to Samson, revealing that her other eye was completely gone, overgrown with muscle and burnt flesh. "I summoned you for the Holy Grail War, if that's what you're asking. Now, could you be so nice as to tell me your name?" she said that with a kind smile.
Bridget Brunhild — Archibald Estate
How long has it been since he has been lost?
How long... has it been?
Two weeks? Yes, that sounds about right. Two lonely weeks without her protector and without Victor.
Fourteen days that she had shed tears because of their loss. Being so lonely. Unable to talk to anyone.
Her sister may be dead. Her parents are dead. Everything that once gave her life meaning was gone.
What could she do now, though? Participate in the same battle.
She still had the Command Seals.
Didn't that mean she had to fight?
She may as well.
There, on basement of the Archibald Estate, she summoned another Servant to fight.
edited 11th Feb '13 9:21:17 AM by RagnaTheSaviour
PARTY PARTY PARTY I WANNA HAVE A PARTY
Circe
"Uh huh. How about we get back to that 'everything I desire' part?" she said, trying to railroad things back on track, in case he hadn't understood her the first time. That was the only thing she disliked about this new Master of hers. Even as heightened an existence as he'd become, he still lingered in the world of Appoline philosophy and semblance, when there were so many more... entertaining pursuits in the world of the Dionysian. She intended to fix that. Help him realize his new place in a far more chaotic, far more fun world. In layman's terms, the vampire needed to learn how to "loosen up".
Darryl Xavier
Well that was... unexpectedly subdued, compared to what he'd been told would happen at least. He'd been expecting a fun-size apocalypse to go off, hence the tarp, but he supposed that measure wasn't really necessary after all. An overwhelming sense of pride and excitement began to wash over him as he finally realized that he'd summoned a Servant. He allowed himself the luxury of a smile, both in satisfaction and in greeting to his new compatriot.
"Yes, I am. My name's Darryl Xavier. I'm a magus for the Clock Tower in London." His smile became just a little less controlled, as he raised a hand to rub the back of his head. "Well, student magus, technically. I've been temporarily promoted for this assignment."
While he was waiting for their response, he began to wonder just who he had summoned. The red glow of their entrance had been a little foreboding, but knights were a foreboding lot. Plus, there had been many knights to carry the epithet of the Red Knight, Sir Galahad included. Perhaps that had something to do with it? He momentarily pondered the idea that perhaps he had summoned the Knight of the Round, but he decided not to get his hopes up too much. Not just yet anyway.
Sasaki Kojirou
The ritual commenced plainly, and surprisingly calmly. In comparison to the chaotic summonings of far more famous spirits, the appearance of the samurai before Bridget was unpronounced, and humble. It spoke of no desire to be recognized or worshipped. It was merely the summoning of a Servant to a Master, nothing more.
The man who sat in the circle with his sword across his lap rose, and eyed Bridget calmly. "Oujo-chan, would you happen to know where my summoner is?"
edited 11th Feb '13 8:24:58 AM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial
Samson - Careen City, Ruined Basement
"Viona..." he said, thinking if he had ever heard such a name before. "I am S..." no, no, he couldn't use his real name. There was power in names.... Ah, he had it. "Shamgar, of Israel. Though, you must truly be a novice at your pagan craft, performing such a poor ritual, for not only is this a pale mockery of who I once was, I cannot even bring my ox-goad forth," he said, clasping his empty hands as he stood up, showing that he had no weapon. For the first time, he truly looked at the young woman who had called him. Well, if it was a woman, then he supposed that things weren't a complete disaster. Her skin was of a shade he had rarely seen before, while her face....
"What Philistine has done this!" he said angrily as he grabbed at her head with his right hand to inspect the socket. "Tell me! Their city shall be repaid thousand-fold, their father's name forgotten, and their bodies made a feast for jackals!"
edited 11th Feb '13 9:10:11 AM by nman
My King
Diomedes, King of Argos
"Why?" repeated Diomedes. "I'm not so sure myself. Because of all that's happened, I feel better at your side. I was never one to work alone, and while I'd feel better with six companions, one is better than nothing."
He smiled. "Its more than that though. I'm grateful for your help. After all that happened, you were the only person I could find. You, who scholars today say never raised a blade against anyone. Perhaps I want to protect such an innocent thing. Was I ever so noble in life?"
Diomedes laughed. "No matter. I'll follow you, and I'll kill things so you don't have to. I've seen too many women die, in both my life and in this War."
Aaron Skyfield
"Yes yes," said Aaron, rising from his seat. "You're quite willful, and even a Dead Apostle must obey when a witch desires something. I wouldn't want you to turn me into anything. . . unnatural."
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Everything was properly organized for the ritual. His room was arranged so that the circle could be drawn in the middle, the catalyst he prepared surrounded by it. All the furniture had been moved to the corners, so to not get in the way. The windows were closed, and all kinds of light comming from outside were blocked by two specially rough curtains providenced for this ocasion, with the exception of a very slight space in the middle. I could've waited until tonight, but... No, there is no need for that.
He double-checked his progress to make sure everything was done as instructed in the book, and saw everything was in place. The symmetry, the positioning... Everything seemed to be perfect. It's time to take a step further.
Damien proceeds to, at last, start this ritual, and call forth a servant that will fight alongside him for the duration of the Holy Grail War. The young magi tries to repeat the same words he is instructed to say in the book he "borrowed" from his former instructor, and wonders if he'd take part in the war as well. No matter. I can't falter, even if that's the case.
Finally, he speaks the last words, his hands pointing to the heavens in expectation. "So come forth, my Servant! If you are willing to fight with me to the very end, answer my call. With our joined forces, we'll seize the Holy Grail!".
Then he waited for a result, his face bearing a confident smile, his eyes showing anxiety above anything else he expected in this world... Well, except the first time he got in contact with magic and discovered he was a magus, of course.
Mordred — The Ambassador Hotel, 24th Floor
The appearance of the man before her wasn't something she often saw. Messy hair with fair skin. He was from London? No, he didn't exactly say that. He went to school in London. "So you're from my home or you've just went there to seek an education?" the question was really something to say. Mordred had no interest in it. The Knight of the Round would like to keep a business relationship with the Master. Though the impending immaturity from Darryl would probably make that kind of thing impossible.
Ah, wait. Did he just say it was an assignment? Excellent. That made this all the better.
"I am a Servant of the Saber Class, if it wasn't already obvious."
Mordred removed the helmet...
revealing the face of a girl?
Bridget Brunhild — Archibald Estate, Basement
"I would be your Master, Mr.Servant." Bridget, even while blind, was able to feel the immense prana coming from inside the circle in front of her. The Servant that she had summoned would surely help her be victor in this war. "I'm sorry but I can't see you... if that makes things difficult, I'm sorry again."
Viona — Careen City, Ruined Basement
"No one did it. No one except me. It was an accident so I ended up burning... my face, along with my eye. It's... It's nothing at all, really, I'm over it." Viona said as she feigned happiness with a smile. It really wasn't over as she said. There are times people insult her or look at her funny. I mean, what normal person wouldn't take a look at a freak like her? It was a fact that she had to live with now and for the rest of her life. "Shamgar? You're a ... Berserker class Servant, right? I believe I said the madness incantation right... so... hm." Viona took everything in stride.
Jeanne — Careen City Outskirts — Grassy Hills
"I raised my blade against a flock of prostitutes that wished to have their way with my men." Jeanne laughed, "I shouted Begone harlots, begone! Don't soil the name of my men and of God!. It's been so long that I can't hardly recall the exact words but it was something along those lines." she looked whimsically up at the sky with her hands behind her back.
Her hair flowed as well as the purple dress she wore. It was something a girl of the modern age may wear. Something extravagant
◊. She bought it the first day of the war though and never got the chance to wear it. Who is to say that a Heroic Spirit of the past can't take joy in today's current affairs?
"Diomedes, is the mana I supply with you sufficient or shall we find a Leyline to rest?"
Master Saboteur
Johnathan Abbot - Hotel Room, Careen City
His room wasn't as cramped for space as he thought. He only had to shift one bed to make room for the circle. Johnathan looked over the circle he had made as he paced around the tarp, his eyes dashing from the circle he drew to the one in the book as he inspected every line to make sure there were no mistakes or smudges. Next, he checked his surroundings. The curtains were closed, there was a "do not disturb" sign hanging outside his door, and...
The catalyst, a piece of the stone from which a legendary knight retrieved an impossible sword. He placed the rock in the center of the circle and stepped back. Everything was complete and all that's left is to take the final step. He looked over the book to check the chant one more time before placing it back on the table. He reached out a hand and took a deep breath as he repeated the chant with a determined inflection.
As the incantation neared it's end, he can feel the magic coming to life. As the last words of the chant were uttered, the circle sparked to life. "Now come forth, my Servant."
"Why does everything have to loop back to YGO?" -Guy who ruined YGO
My King
Diomedes, King of Argos
Diomedes smiled at her story. "I believe I am ok to travel more today. My mana supply is sufficient. However, if you suspect that we will fight soon, I may need more. My Noble Phantasm is not flashy, but it does require mana for every strike."
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And before Damien a bright white light shone and within that light a shape grasping a mighty spear/lance took shape.
As the light faded a young blonde man was revealed, his armour shining in the remaining glow og the ritual. He twirled that spear around, shifting it to his other hand before he planted it into he ground and the young Lancer looked straightly at Damien. "Tell me, is it you who have summoned me? The Greatest Knight who have ever lived?"
Beowulf
Beowulf scowled. Another man filled with lust for battle. Worthy opponents. "I suppose I'll have to thank you for the second wish, then, Master. Though I would prefer if we battled with prudence." Beowulf sheathed his swords and smoothly took a seat crosslegged. "You understand that, as you want to fight the strongest, it would be pointless to harm those who have nothing to do with the War, correct? That is my own wish from you; your bloodlust disgusts me, but I have little room to talk; if only I was summoned as Saber, hmm?" The viking laughed hollowly and sighed.
Washington*
As Boris' lightning focused around the book, the mana of the spell began resolving into a shape. Human, clad in 18th-century blue regimentals. An older man, proud, hawkish and stately.
President George Washington. Rider. Retaining full composure and seriousness, he stepped out of the circle, took a deep breath, and shook Boris's hand firmly, looking him in the eye. A practice social maneuver. He turned the handshake as well, attempting to gently control the handshake to test his Master. See how this relationship would play. No asking if the man was his Master. Why the hell did they ask that when it was blitheringly obvious?
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir. As you may know, my name is George Washington. I understand I am your Servant in this Grail War?" George broke the handshake and continued talking, examining the room he found himself in. He summoned a saber and rifle for himself, strapping the weapons on. "I assume that we are in America, and that you wish to control me outside of use of Command Seals. As a consequence, I ask that we meet up with what local law enforcement there is, meet the Overseer, and destroy any Masters we find after following them from the Ruler's home. This is, of course, a negotiable settlement. Name your terms, Master, and we can reach an agreement to one another's benefit without such brutish spells."
Marty Barnes
Oh. One of those Servants, the ones that fully realized the recklessness and irreverence that came with Holy Grail Immortality. He wanted informal. Marty could do that.
"Pleasure you could make it, Setne." Barnes replied. "Well, I want you to be my Servant. You're cool with that, right? I give you mana and you do what I want, which is killing Masters that cause trouble and helping keep the survivors in Archwood alive. I figure you wouldn't mind. Now, first order of business, as a member of the Church I'm obligated to help out the 'Muggles' in the immediate area. How about we go and scavenge for supplies and kill any Masters inevitably prowling the streets looking for sacrifices?"
The Amazing Goldstein
Oh shit. George had made the mistake of assuming that his Servant would just go with it. Goddammit, he shouldn't have guessed at something like that. Luckily, the kids seemed to think it was a joke, giggling and playing along. George figured he'd just go with it.
"Oh man, kids." George said, looking to the children imploringly. "I—no! I don't think my new Assistant was summoned right! We—we need to tell him who I am! That'll jog his memory! Say it with me!"
On cue, all the kids cheered out, with George's exact tone and emphasis. "THE AMAAAAAAAZING GOOOOOOLDSTEIN!!" They raised their arms and burst into cheers.
George clapped and gestured to Rider. "And the Rider! And Olivia! There she goes!" George pointed to a far corner of the back of the room, where Olivia neatly somersaulted off the catwalks and cartwheeled out of the room amidst even more cheers. "Never forget people that helped you get where you are! Remember them all! Your parents, your grandparents, your friends, and summoned supermen!" George leaned on Rider's confused shoulder at the last line. The children laughed on cue. Goldstein bowed, tapping Rider's back as he did so. "You've been a great audience! I have to go give Rider his first lessons! We'll be back tomorrow for more shows, tricks, and fun!"
The curtains closed.
EARTHMIND -- ANOTHER HEAVEN
The advent of the Holy Grail War.
The setting of a blood-red sun on a battlefield of mythical heroes.
Heroes doing good for the sake of good.
Villains doing evil for the sake of evil.
Both are allowed in this unforgiving struggle.
With the eve of the second part of the project Deviant under way, there will be more Masters and more Servants ready to spill blood.
The blood of the innocent and the corrupt.
Now, let it begin again.
THE HOLY GRAIL WAR!
Careen City Underground — Day 0
A city linked to Archwood via a black underground tunnel. There lies a hidden power that one could only call a dark void. It sits there motionless with ethereal chains of white restricting its movements.
There are heads. Serpentine heads that are made of amethyst, gold, silver, bronze, diamond, copper and earth. A beast cultivated from the foundation the Earth itself.
It flexed its muscles and everytime it did, the cavern shook.
"Such a beautiful creature." said a man in a black suit, standing there at the base of the cave. "You must hunger for more, don't you?"
The beast doesn't respond to his cold words.
"Sit tight, sit tight... there will be more. The sun is rising so, just sit there, my love..."
Just sit there and wait.
Careen City — Day 1 — The Start of the Holy Grail War
Roden Adalwolf —- Careen City, Hotel Basement
"Well the materials are less than ideal BUT there isn't much I can do about that, right?" Roden said that to no one inparticular. He was alone in darkness. Completely alone. Well that lonliness would soon be alleviated with the summoning of a comrade for the Holy Grail War. He had been chosen (unlucky bastard) to fight this battle. He was also being paid, so he couldn't let his clients down.
They were the ones to provide him with such a gift after all.
A piece of leather that was said to belong to a legendary knight.
"Hm, alright, let's get this party started!" he lobbed the leather through the air as it landed onto the center of the circle. "Since I'm not one for tradition, I'll just wing it."
Ahem.
He clapped his hands together then pointed to the heavens.
"Servant, come on out. Let's have ONE HELL OF A PARTY!"
Hanuel Zhang — Careen City, Slums — Warehouse
Weaklings.
Weaklings.
They were all weaklings.
They were arrogant. Too arrogant and stupid to realize they were fighting a devil. "Hmph." he simply crossed his arms at the shameful display.
Guns were nothing to him. Mages were nothing to him. There was nothing in this mortal world that could challenge his mastery of the fist.
Hanuel stomped on the ground.
It cracked and his foot went right through the cement.
Blood splattered as the sound of a skull cracking in half echoed through the empty building.
They were gangsters. Plain and simple. They insulted him for what he was and his history.
Showing Zhang the ultimate disrespect meant that he should meet them with the ultimate punishment.
Death.
The blood in the center of the warehouse was formed into a circle. The circle to summon a Servant to fight by his side. Zhang had brutalized a Master that wanted to enter the Grail War the day before coming here so he murdered them, took the Catalyst and the incantation.
Hanuel began and ended the chant with a stone face.
Viona Auttenberg — Careen City, Ruined Basement
"I was chosen for this so I should... participate, right?" she said that to herself as she finished the summoning circle. "Right." she mumbled to herself. "I have the magic to supply a Servant so I should be more hyped."
Right?
Yeah, that's right.
She'll do fine.
A deep breath now, Viona.
A deep breath.
Prepare the summoning.
Say it.
Say it
And so she did.
The summoning of a Heroic Spirit.
One bred of madness.
With the magic words, the circle started to glow.
Grassy Hills — Careen Outskirts — Day 1
The Servant Jeanne d'Arc stood there. She looked over the city with a solemn face. Her eyes were filled with determination. Another disaster wasn't going to happen again. NOT on her watch.
Never again.
"We should get moving."
In the name of God, I won't let another person die...
edited 12th Feb '13 5:42:38 PM by RagnaTheSaviour