Fate/Lunaterra ~ RP Thread

A whirl of motion that made up the young woman moved about the room without slowing. "How do I get myself into these things?" She rushed past devices and mechanical parts of various shapes and sizes as she hurried to finish the ritual. After the seventh time passing the same table of parts she hesitated. "So many unfinished projects..." She never wanted to be a part of this stupid war, but as she was the one with the glowing red mark, she wasn't left with much choice.

Kalonia Ralston lived most her life being told that she would likely have to fight in some war for some wish granting cup. Well, she didn't much care for wishmaking and figured anything she wanted she could get for herself with enough determination. This whole situation could have been avoided if only...

A shake of the head puts the mind back into focus and Kalonia got back to work. She was average enough height, not too short, not too tall, which sat well enough with her. Her dark chestnut hair was kept up in a ponytail to keep from getting in the way of her work. More than once it was suggested that she cut it shorter so she wouldn't have to deal with it, but she never paid much heed. If she could change anything, it would be the seemingly glowing amber eyes. Blue would have suited her just fine.

Kalonia made a few more last minute preparations on the arcane circle and stood before it, examining and double checking. It was about that time now, and she needed to be ready. With a nod and a grin she sat on the workbench she positioned before the circle. Beside her were a pair of gauntlets with a polished sheen and clawed fingers, which she lifted and dawned upon herself. No mistakes, this had to be done right.

Around the arcane circle were six evenly spaced metal poles. She hoped that would be enough.

 

A rebellious sigh could be heard through the basement. It was the only sound aside from the splattering of liquid in a complex circle. It would probably be a disturbing sight for anyone not involved, seeing a boy drawing a large sigil like this in blood, with his stern-faced father watching him, even judging him.

The boy, Reiner Behrend, sighed because that's all he had left. He had fought against his father enough about this, but when that tattoo thing -- command spell, his father called it -- appeared on his arm a few days ago, Reiner knew that he wouldn't be able to defy his father any longer. Reiner knew enough from his learning as a magus to know that he was now marked for the Holy Grail War -- that ruthless battle between seven magi over the Holy Grail, fought with Servants much like familiars.

At least he was numbed to the thick stench of blood by now. When he first started the ritual, that metallic smell overwhelmed his senses. At least he wasn't bothered by the blood itself.

Soon, however, the ritual circle was finished, now surrounded by candles. "Now transfer the mana into the ritual," came his father's voice, strict and commanding, more like an uncaring teacher than a real father.

"I know, I know," Reiner complained, now receiving a glare from his father. Frustratedly running a hand through his light brown, shaggy hair which he rarely bothered fixing up, he eventually got into the position his father showed him, pointing his right hand towards the circle, holding it up with his left.

Reiner gritted as the command spell, a fairly large, tattoo-like design with lightning bolts surrounding a strangely threatening abstract design in the center, all orange in color, began to burn as mana was transferred from Reiner to the circle.

 

"D-did you really have to use blood?"

Carl Ziino stood there, crouched in the middle of Crimson summoning star. He wore the outfit of a professional butler, different only in golden stitching alike to magic runes, and a decorative sword at his side. He had bright orange hair and red eyes that were clearly not his own. Along his shoulder was a towel stained in the blood he was surrounded with. By his feet there were bottles of crimson liquid, each of a very subtly different shade, each glowing from some magical aftereffect. They were arranged in a circle around him like a deranged painter’s palette. With a fine paintbrush, he stroke very carefully as he intended, before meticulously wiping up any imperfections with his towel. A few minutes late to reply, he spoke:

"Blood is the best fit for a ritual of war and battle."

With this, he stood up, grabbed the bottles and brush and walked towards his friend. A blue dragon with two relatively simple horns and a black tunic, lay there on his side. Behind him stood a complex gateway, constructed of shining purple glyphs on the wall of the abandoned building. Its glow provided the only reasonable light for the barren and filthy room, unless one counted the faint luminescence of the magically disturbed blood.

"This is creepy though. You're going to summon someone insane." The dragon, Dise, protested. Carl threw the bottles and bloodstained towel in Dise's direction and gestured to take them away. "I can only imagine the Archmage would argue that's the fun of it. On his behalf and I don't see it fit to cut corners on the finer themes." As he said this, we walked back toward the ritual, and removed the glove on his right hand, the hand with the command spell, and its swirling star-like pattern. He wiped it off with a sanitized rag, before placing it gently on the blooded star and hummed a chant under his breath.

 

Several seconds had passed, and Carl Ziino's chanting seemed to have had no notable results. But soon, the crimson star began to shine, bursting into a flash that filled the entire room in a brilliant red.

But this flash would not last as long as expected.

From the source of the flash erupted a violent surge of dark mist which then drowned out the light of the summoning star within a matter of seconds. And at this point, it showed no signs of stopping as it then began to blanket the interior of the room. What little remaining light was gradually drowned out as the room gradually darkened, eventually reaching a point where seeing one's own hand in front of their face would be almost impossible. This darkness then settled within the room for what seemed to be a minute. Then all at once, the dark mist pulled back towards the source, the room returning to its normal light level as a result. The dark mist violently swirled in an orb-like shape above the summoning star, at this point of stopping.

The mass of dark mist remained as it was for several second, after which something seemed to emerge from within it... What appeared to be a black, clawed hand jut from within the orb, and then cut through it. As it made its slicing motion, something even more unusual could be seen on the back of it. A strange, half-opened eye with a gold pupil. After this hand had apparently finished its job of cutting through the orb, the hand retreated back into it. But almost immediately after, the swirling dark mist began to disperse and dissipate, as it had seemingly been quelled. In its place was a lone woman levitating above the blood star on the floor. Based on her appearance alone, she seemed to be a human, dressed in a black and dark violet dress. Her face was concealed by the hood of her cloak covering her dress. But her concealed gaze was seemingly fixed upon the two other lifeforms within the room as she remained where she was, her arms crossed as she awaited reactions from these two.

 

She hadn't sat long before Kal was on her feet again. From all her history experimenting and inventing she'd grown rather obsessed with final tweaking and triple checking. Crouched next to one of the poles, she removed a small panel on the base to reveal an equally small console. A green light shined with the word "ACTIVE" above it. With a couple of button presses the tiny screen displayed "0%. SYSTEM ACTIVE. INPUT COMMAND." Returning the panel, she proceeded to check the other five poles to ensure they all read the same.

Satisfied, but a bit disappointed with herself for having felt the need to check a fourth time within the last twenty minutes, she returned to her seat. Feeling very nervous, she decided to check her controls once more as well; reading a tiny display on her left gauntlet that simply read "SYNCED" calmed her down a little. Why was she getting so worked up over something so truly simple? Of course the machine would work, she made it. Afraid? Of course she was! Kal was about to enter a war!

"No. This ends before it begins." Kalonia rose to her feet with a semblance of her old determination. She raised her lightly shaking hands before her and began the magical feed. A spark, a glow, a radiance, a blur of light. "Come, Servant, that I may be free!"

The press of a tiny button on a left gauntlet changes a simple word to "ACTIVATED" and lightning shoots between the metal poles, connecting them all in a ring around the ritual circle. Checking the tiny display finds "10%." So far so good.

 

Both of the magi in the room stared at the result for a few moments. "Figures that you'd summon a regular familiar," Reiner's father scoffed obviously unimpressed with the outcome, making his way to the stairs. "I guess we'l try again tomorrow, if you can handle it." The man's voice showed little compassion, as at the moment, he was a teacher and a fellow magi, not a father.

No...

There was no way that Reiner would have failed the ritual. He did everything correctly, the toll he felt on his body from the depletion of mana, and the lingering burning sensation in his arm, as if the command spell was telling him "this is your Servant"... It had to have worked. Besides, as Reiner looked closer at the wolf in the center, he could tell it was no ordinary wolf familiar.

Its eyes seemed to shine against its black fur, and they even gave the suggestion of it being completely sapient. Reiner knew that this wolf would be his Servant in the coming Holy Grail War, though he didn't know why it would summon a wolf, even one that felt as powerful as this.

By now, Reiner's father had already climbed the stairs, most likely already heading off to bed. Seizing the chance, Reiner took out a rectangular package and lighter. While Reiner couldn't care less if his father knew he smoked, he knew that there'd no doubt be some big blow-up about and that would be a waste of everyone's time.

Reiner took outa cigarette and lit it with the lighter, taking in and blowing out a puff of smoke before he spoke. "So, which Servant are you?" he asked, not sounding particularly interested or amazed at what had just happened.

---

Resta's call had not gone unanswered. Though perhaps in a way that Resta was not expecting. As the mana surged up from the ritual, it began to change. At first, it simply started out as a different feeling to mana -- similar, but still different. After about a minute, even a novice magus would have been able to see that there was something different from the pillar of bright, white light. But even then, it began to change more.

The light began to split into different colors. Sections of it began to change to red and blue, alternating between them withing the pillar. They quickly stopped being a pillar altogether, and began breaking up into globules of energy, seeming to bubble up from the ritual, and get drawn into a small, amorphous ball that was becoming larger as more energy was sucked into it. After a few seconds of this, the energy stopped flowing into the ball, leaving it floating there, pulsating wildly with clumps of blue and red energy.

This was no longer mana, but Eon -- a prototypic, incomplete form of Eon, but Eon nonetheless. It hung in the air, for what felt like minutes, but would have been mere seconds, until it burst violently within the magic glyphs laid on the floor of the chapel with a brilliant flash, catching on fire the wood that was within it, but not touching anything outside.

At first, it would have seemed like the ritual had failed. However, as one's eyes readjusted to the meager light, even with the burning circle of wood, they would see that there was a man in the center of it, somewhat short by any standards. His black hair was messy over his heterochromatic blue and red eyes, and he wore a formal outfit, broken by the two guns that he kept visible at his waste -- an old-fashioned revolver and a modern automatic pistol.

He stepped out of the burning glyph, the fires already reduced to merely an inch, if that in height, and looked at the girl in front of him. A facial expression that managed to convey both incredulity and pity at the girl in religious attire. "Are you the Master that summoned me?" the man said, his voice conveying much the same as his face, only with a small amount of deference thrown in. If this girl had summoned him, she would be his Master, thus, it would be unbecoming to come off callously right off the bat.[/hr]

 

Shuuga shuuga shuuga

Hsssssss...!

Wearing a devious smile, the teenage boy deftly drew the last detail in lime green spray paint. Sprawled before him was a complicated graffiti circle, glowing even before the inevitable application of Mana due to its contrast with the dim urban night. The boy and his act of vandalism sat alone in the middle of a run-down lot, the surrounding area so abandoned that vines grew and crept everywhere along the chain link fences and walls, and the only witness the boy ran a risk of alerting was a scruffy stray dog which was missing a leg.

Speaking of which...

"I could probably use your blood, you know," the boy called out nonchalantly, glancing up at the bedraggled canine which watched his activity warily from several dozen yards away. The dog's curious amber eyes looked away timidly, and it hesitantly took a limping step back. Scoffing at the disreputable creature, the blond-haired male decisively administered one last arc of spray paint and then stood back to appraise his work. Critical green eyes scanned every bit of the intricate design, eyebrows and lips gradually turning up to reflect his satisfaction. "Just one more touch..." he commented, sounding rather like a meticulous artist whose masterpiece was nearly finished. Withdrawing a knife from its sheath attached to his leg, he indifferently slashed one of his palms and let the blood well out for a moment before flicking the scarlet offering into the middle of the arrangement. "Anything less than a personal sacrifice would be a disrespect," he soliloquized, brilliant eyes focused on the arcane circle as he retreated a bit further and stretched his cut left hand forth, holding it steady with his right as if it were a weapon.

Visible in the pale luminescence, the boy considered the red marking inscribed on the back of his left hand once more. Sharp and symmetrical in form, he had found it on himself just earlier today, as if waking up with a new tattoo. He knew what it was, though. And he knew what it meant. It meant he was chosen.

"Let's get to summoning, then," the boy muttered eagerly, releasing a deep breath and allowing his Mana to concentrate... along his arm... down to his hand... through his fingers... the red mark alighted as he transferred the energy to the large inscription in front of him; a blue glow switched on inside the elaborate lines and an ethereal teal shimmer blinded the insignificant ground as noble cerulean light filled the area. Ignoring the sensation in his hand, the teenager stood firm and observed the majestic phenomenon with a self-assured grin, a determined expression playing across his features.

[hr]

Unnoticed by Xander, a blue glow had ignited in the glyph. From the center radiating outwards pulsed azure waves, as if the system of lines had become a creature's heart. The frequency of the waves escalated quickly until the illumination was practically consistent, and the brightness intensified until the mystic light swallowed the entire room. A rough rumbling started somewhere distant and far below, but seemed to shake the whole house; the chaos continued in this way for a moment before, suddenly, the blue radiance perverted into a mad red aura, accompanied by a brutal shout from nearby that was both distinctly human and yet concertedly monstrous. All light abruptly drained from the vicinity as a horrible crashing noise issued from adjacent to Xander's room; it wasn't hard to guess that the house's structure itself was being destroyed. Another terrible cry was audible as something large and heavy pierced through the wall and slashed along it as if it were paper, and then followed with a wrenching blow that left a gaping hole in the divider.

Through all of the debris and dust and mess, a short humanoid figure could be seen crouching on all fours, what looked through the screen of disaster like a gigantic scorpion's tail lashing everywhere and ruining the unsuspecting Xander's house without regard. The being's face snapped in the direction of the young adult's room when it became visible; the monster was a young human male, postured like an animal atop a wrecked sofa and dressed in a red sweatshirt and black jeans. Something about his expression didn't fit a human, though-- there was no mercy, no reason, nor emotion except a primal desire to rip through everything reflected in the boy's green eyes and bared, snarling mouth.

This changed, however, upon settling its gaze on Xander. Intelligence overtly returned to the boy's behavior, and his features settled into that of a typical, moody, disinterested 13-year-old. He stood up a bit awkwardly and looked around at the result of his outburst. Hopping down from the overturned sofa onto a solid pile of wood dropped from the ceiling, the boy once again returned his gaze to Xander. "Dude, your house is a wreck," he noted bitterly, clearly subverting the blame as if he had nothing to do with it. "Whatever. I'm Berserker," he offered as if in a perfectly complete introduction. His expression devolved into a look of vain superiority as his black 'tail'-- in actuality a weapon wider than an adult male's arm, ending in a deadly and powerful blade reminiscent of both a spear's tip and a scorpion's stinger, scrawled with bloodred veins along with the flexible, segmented, metallic shaft-- slithered through the air all the way towards Xander and settled with its lethal tip near the man's throat. "Don't expect me to call you 'Master'."

 

The night was long and seemed to hold an infinite number of possibilities. The apprehension that dwelled within Blaise only grew larger as she could feel the energies of the Heaven's Feel coursing through the city almost like the rushing of lifeblood. She stood atop a skyscraper's roof, watching the moon as it flew by on its course to set. The Holy Grail War... Blaise dreamed of the day that she would finally participate, but as if the world were out to inhibit this desire, the chance had slipped through her fingers. Seven were chosen, and she was not a part of them. She clenched her fists as tears welled in her eyes. What she wouldn't give to have her dream come true... What she wouldn't give... She drew her arms into herself and sunk to the floor. How long would she have to wait before she received an invitation to participate? Would she ever realize her dream? The Holy Grail had the power to make all she needed come to fruition, but it seemed that Blaise would never possess it... unless she didn't play fair. Blaise looked at the moon now, which seemed to always be present no matter where she went. If the opportunity would not come to her itself, she would create one. Blaise stood, the tears that had welled up already fallen down her face, but with a smile that hinted at malignance. She would create an opportunity. The Grail would be hers, no matter what... even if it meant taking it illegitimately.

A breeze started to pick up when she stood, blowing her hair towards the side. With a determined stride, she crossed the roof of the skyscraper and opened the door to the staircase that lead her there. She would make sure that this wouldn't slip from her grasp again.

 

As his surroundings went dark with mist, Carl took the moment to fetch his glasses from his pocket and admire the light, err, Darkness show before him. As the mist settled and the servant came to a pause, Carl folded his arms and nodded in approval. He turned to his dragon companion and tossed him the rag he used to clean his hands before the ritual, adding to the pile. "I told you the blood would summon someone who knew what they were doing."

"Uhh, well you have fun with that. I'll go put this stuff away. I suppose there must be someone else who could find a use for it." With that, the dragon scooped the materials to his belly, and lazily rolled over his back and  into the panel of Glyphs behind him. As he touched it, he and vials and rags dissolved into a thick light and dispersed into the gateway. As Dise went, Carl put his inscribed hand to his temple, let out a sigh and shook his head in disappointment.

Carl turned back around and faced his summon. He gave her a quick bow, fitting his status as a butler. His voice changed from the commanding tone he used with the dragon, to that a servile tranquility. "Please excuse the delay. From what I understand of the Grail, you know perfectly well why we're here. But please, before we discuss strategy, let me hear of the legends that have brought you here before me." He made eye contact with the women, his gaze confident and sharp. Perhaps more importantly, they seemed to gleam with a light of their own, only noticeable because of the room's darkness. He walked calmly forward, extending his inscribed hand. "My name is Carl Ziino, pleased to meet you."

 

The woman watched the two as they had responded to her presence, noting the calmness of the only other human in the room. Probably because this was the intended result. Or maybe because he was not yet aware of what he had just summoned to Terra. Whatever it was, she couldn't help but be slightly amused by this, even if her expression of such was concealed within the darkness of her cloak. Nevertheless, her gaze focused on these two, briefly eying the dragon as it eventually left. Her attention fixated back upon Carl as he gave her a bow and then began to speak directly to her. It was fitting of the fact that he was dressed as a butler, but given how he was presenting himself to her, it was almost as if he was her servant, the irony of which amused her even more.

The woman took note of the confident gleam in Carl's eyes as he made eye contact with her. It was several seconds after he had revealed his name to him that she had finally responded. "Hmm... 'Legend' certainly isn't the word I would use to describe my story of how I have been brought to this place." She then chuckled. "Not to worry though, Ziino. There is plenty of time for me to regale you of my story. I will say that this certainly won't be the first war that I have participated in." She paused as she slowly raised her right hand toward her concealed chin. It appeared to be the very hand that had cut through the swirling dark mist that had previously filled the room. "It's too bad, though... Fewer participants likely means that this war will be less exciting than the last..."

The woman then glanced back to Carl. "But enough about that for the time being." She then reached her hand out toward the human, grasping onto his hand in acceptance of his offer of a handshake. It likely wouldn't be as strong of a grip as his would be, but it would also mean a smaller chance of crushing his hand. Or puncturing it with what appeared to be her claws. "As for myself, I am Caster."

 

The gauge reached 11% when the mana flux began to surge. Kal expected resistance, but this was beyond even her greatest calculations. A distortion of some kind of mana fluctuation rippled out- no, it was calculated, it was focused- and in an instant, the channel rods were nothing but a heap of scrap. "Uh oh..." The mana eruption came and Kal lifted her guarded arms to protect her self as the blast knockedher backward before she caught her footing and staggered to regain her breath.

The force of the seemingly relentless mana swirled about the room, turning tables and spilling drawrs and cabinets of parts and devices all over the floor. Whatever she just summoned, it was a lot more powerful than she had ever anticipated. She factored the possibility of her machine failing, so she was completely surprised when she discovered it to be the result, but this?

The rage of mana finally settled and dissipated, revealing a young looking man. He couldn't be older than I am. She watched him alertly as the man scanned the room before speaking, showing no sign of surprise by what happened himself. "My apologies, sir. I harbor no ill-will toward you, I merely intended to prevent the war." She examined the read on her gauntlet as she spoke, trying to avoid looking into those eyes. 13%. Even her worst-case scenario suggested a result of anything close to this scale at around 58%. Powerful. "My name is Kalonia, and I'd prefer you don't refer to me as Master."

 

Reiner took another puff of the cigarette, merely glancing at the Servant changed from a wolf to a humanoid. Reiner gave a smug smirk as the servant introduced himself. "Rider, huh?" he said, a wry tone appearing in his voice, as if plotting something. "Just so you know, I don't really care about this 'Holy Grail,' thing," Reiner admitted, his voice was now a mocking whine, deepening on the words "Holy Grail" as if imitating his father. "But I gotta admit. This whole thing sounds like fun."

Reiner then took a particular large puff on the cigarette, more or less finishing it of. He held it infor a moment, then exhaled the smoke mostly through his nose. With the cigarette finished, and the tobacco-smoke dissipated, Reiner reached for a conveniently placed cup, and threw the butt inside of it, then began walking to the stairs. "Nothing much more to do down here, Rider," he said, once again inhis exasperated tone, "might as well go upstairs."



The man did not respond to his Master's mistake in his identity. Obviously she was looking to obtain a specific Servant, and this man was obviously not the Servant Saber. Quite far from it, really. In fact, he was obviously not a melee fighter of any kind.

Then the girl seemed to begin looking over him; he simply raised an eyebrow as his master appraised him. If it was anyone's place to appraise anyone here, it was his own. His Master, at first glance, did not seem like much, with her being such a young girl, but the Servant could definitely see that she had potential. A she realized her mistake, the Master went into a minor panic.

"Look at you, jumping to conclusions," the Servant said with a small smile, obviously enjoying the display -- not out of contempt, but out of the same that any adult might find a child like this amusing. "But no. I am obviously not a swordsman."

He took out the revolver, holding it in his left hand and bringing his arm across his chest, giving a bow. "I am the Servant Archer. I will be your loyal soldier and guardian in this Holy Grail War." he said as he bowed, before a small glint came to his eyse, "Unless, of course, you want to try for another... Though I suppose it doesn't work quite like that."

Despite his joking, Archer's overall demeanor was one of deference. He knew his place, but that didn't mean he couldn't do a little teasing.[/hr]

 

From the otherworldly light show emerged a tenebrous, almost regal figure. As the last formations of potent energy produced by the ritual faded into the pallid night, the being in nocturne splendor spoke in a definitively feminine voice, "I, Servant Saber, have been summoned in accordance to the Holy Grail War. Are you my Master?" Before her, the boy's chartreuse eyes narrowed in the way of one whose plans were coming together.

"Yes, I am," he replied evenly, moving his left arm diligently across his chest with the palm inward, displaying the crimson insignia on his hand which still tingled from the ceremony. The teenager continued in a formal tone, "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Servant Saber. My name is Kaden Casus." And then, in a slightly forced manner, added, "For the purposes of the Holy Grail War, I would prefer you call me 'Casey'..."

Lowering his arm, Kaden went on, maintaining eye contact with the dark helmet his Servant wore. "Regardless, there's some business we have to go over before anything. I don't know as much about the Grail War as I would like, you see, so any information you can offer on the subject would be helpful." Glancing at the three-legged canine that was cautiously creeping out from behind a wall after running away, baying, a minute ago, the blonde-haired teen finished congenially, "Of course, we can go over this elsewhere, if you'd like. I was thinking of checking you into a hotel nearby, assuming you can make yourself more... casual," he noted, casting his gaze over Saber's unusual armor. Battle-ready his Servant may be, though such an outfit and aura would easily draw attention when walking the streets, even at midnight.

[hr]

"Don't kill me!"

The man's utterance brought a wicked grin to Berserker's face. Cowering, pain, and a look of fright or any variation thereof were all things he liked to see in other people. Keeping his blade trained on Xander's neck, although allowing it to slowly orbit around to the back, Berserker dismissed the next sentence the man spoke into the phone and scoffed, "Put the cell away." Turning away, Berserker observed the remainder of his apparent host's living room with a scowl. "As for ground rules, don't even think about trying to order me around; even your Command Spells won't work on me," he directed over his shoulder, glancing up and seeing the nighttime sky through a large gap in the ceiling. "Keep your distance in battles. You'll just get in my way, and I don't need you getting killed while I'm busy."

Withdrawing his tail-- the segmented shaft retracted and slithered backwards while the tip flicked around as if in objection-- Berserker walked over to the television, which was miraculously untouched, though covered in debris. "On that note, don't go doing anything stupid in general to get yourself killed," he continued while crouching next to the set and grasping for the wire. More to himself, the young boy muttered, "That Grail is mine, I won't let anyone screw my chances of getting it." With a slightly audible sound of powering on, Berserker successfully plugged the TV's cord into a socket, causing the screen to light up. Turning his head to glare at Xander, he commented, "Especially not some beginner magus who calls his girlfriend whenever something goes wrong."