Your eyes open, and the world around you fills into your vision. You squint hard, the sudden...
Fate/Anima (Original Setting Grail War)
- Thread starter Sockpuppet
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 31
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 7
-
Statistics (7 threadmarks, 11k words)
User Total Sockpuppet 7
OP
- Location
- w e w
Your eyes open, and the world around you fills into your vision. You squint hard, the sudden influx of color and light shaking you out of a sleep induced stupor. Everything comes in indistinct blurs.
Soon enough, the world becomes just slightly clearer, and you realize how small it is. You are inside what appears to be a small private jet that can barely fit more than seven people. On either side of the plane a padded bench juts out, forming rudimentary seats. A narrow walkway cuts through the middle of these seating areas, leading to a pilot room that is sealed off by an imposing wall of locked metal. The colors are muted. Everything seems to be of a depressing shade of grey. The metal of the unpainted plane, the benches that serve as seats, the carpet of the walkway - everything. There are no windows, no simple conveniences.
It looks like a prison.
"It's awake," a clear female voice said.
Voices.
Voices meant... people?
You shake your head and blink your eyes hard. When you open them, you see them. On the right bench sat two people. One was a man with Asiatic features whose thin wrinkles signaled the onset of youth's leave. He was dressed completely in cowboy garb, as if he had been plucked straight out of a wild west flick. Beside him, to his right and away from you, sat a young woman with refined features and an elegant, haughty air about her. What was most noticeable about her was that she was dressed completely in a thick black and loose robe, obscuring her body below her neck.
"Now now, 'it's' is a rather harsh term, no? He is just as mortal as the rest of us. Let's treat him with a bit of respect, eh?" says a collected, gentlemanly voice. Beneath that amiable tone, you think you can hear a hint of mocking sarcasm. You realize that it comes from the other bench, and you promptly take a look at its speaker. A tall and lanky man dressed in a formal suit. His face and visible flesh are completely covered with what appears to be bandages.
The cowboy chuckled. "That's mighty funny comin' from you." He tipped his hat. "But yer right bout' that respect part." He took off his hat and turned his gaze to you.
"Howdy, partner," he said, his black eyes boring into you in analysis. His hair, now freed from the confines of the hat, strayed out in an unkempt and long mess of black.
"Respect? Are we going to introduce ourselves now? A little icebreaker before we die? Do you all understand the situation we are in!?" the woman suddenly exclaimed, her prim features twisting into a surprisingly fierce scowl.
"Flying in the dark of night into a gigantic floating city over the Himalayas to participate in a shady 'holy grail ritual' with no support at all form the Mage's Association. Just me given command over a bunch of you loonies. You all might be lowly heretics, but I am nobility! I won't tolerate this carelessness!" The woman stood up to emphasize her point, her shoulder length scarlet hair swaying like angry flames. The plane hit some turbulence, and her balance faltered, making her awkwardly stumble back into her seat with a whimper of surprise. Her face turned red. Whether with anger or embarrassment, the world would never know. Asking would be fatal.
"Hush now, missy," the cowboy quipped back, his tone steady and calm. He kept his stare concentrated on you. "This oughta be the seventh time you've been shoutin' at us like that. Take it slow. Dyin' in a panic's the worst way to go."
"Now'n, back to the beginnin'. Gotta name?" asked the cowboy as he leaned forward towards you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
Your head still hurt. You try to process his words, but your head only aches in response. You try to remember, but it's like trying to reach a mirage - the more you reach, the farther your memories flee. You stay silent, with a confused look plastered on you. You try to move but realize you are frozen in standing position on the center aisle. A curse that fixes you to a specific space - a simple one that a magus should naturally be able to resist, but it seems that you are in far too weak of a condition to do so. You look around helplessly at your companions, searching for a clue somewhere, anywhere. The bandaged man's face is invisible, hidden behind a mass of cloth. The cowboy's face is impassive and yields no hints. The woman appears worried, her brows upraised in a nervous surprise, as if something is not going as she would have thought it would.
Now you remember. Your name. Who you are.
"My name is..."
[ ] Write - In
And you are:
[ ] Hard:
An abomination. A mad magus's brilliant discovery and undoing – a living, sentient virus drawn from the depths of glacial ice. Your current human form is simply temporary, a mere puppet of flesh and blood to work with.
[Relationship bonus with the bandaged man]
[X] Medium (Write In):
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[ ] Easy:
A disgraced Knight of the Red Branch. You who could not follow ideology and struck down your comrades for your lofty ideals. A warrior in every sense of the word and, perhaps, a hero.
[Relationship bonus with the cowboy]
____________________
Servant Matrix
Soon enough, the world becomes just slightly clearer, and you realize how small it is. You are inside what appears to be a small private jet that can barely fit more than seven people. On either side of the plane a padded bench juts out, forming rudimentary seats. A narrow walkway cuts through the middle of these seating areas, leading to a pilot room that is sealed off by an imposing wall of locked metal. The colors are muted. Everything seems to be of a depressing shade of grey. The metal of the unpainted plane, the benches that serve as seats, the carpet of the walkway - everything. There are no windows, no simple conveniences.
It looks like a prison.
"It's awake," a clear female voice said.
Voices.
Voices meant... people?
You shake your head and blink your eyes hard. When you open them, you see them. On the right bench sat two people. One was a man with Asiatic features whose thin wrinkles signaled the onset of youth's leave. He was dressed completely in cowboy garb, as if he had been plucked straight out of a wild west flick. Beside him, to his right and away from you, sat a young woman with refined features and an elegant, haughty air about her. What was most noticeable about her was that she was dressed completely in a thick black and loose robe, obscuring her body below her neck.
"Now now, 'it's' is a rather harsh term, no? He is just as mortal as the rest of us. Let's treat him with a bit of respect, eh?" says a collected, gentlemanly voice. Beneath that amiable tone, you think you can hear a hint of mocking sarcasm. You realize that it comes from the other bench, and you promptly take a look at its speaker. A tall and lanky man dressed in a formal suit. His face and visible flesh are completely covered with what appears to be bandages.
The cowboy chuckled. "That's mighty funny comin' from you." He tipped his hat. "But yer right bout' that respect part." He took off his hat and turned his gaze to you.
"Howdy, partner," he said, his black eyes boring into you in analysis. His hair, now freed from the confines of the hat, strayed out in an unkempt and long mess of black.
"Respect? Are we going to introduce ourselves now? A little icebreaker before we die? Do you all understand the situation we are in!?" the woman suddenly exclaimed, her prim features twisting into a surprisingly fierce scowl.
"Flying in the dark of night into a gigantic floating city over the Himalayas to participate in a shady 'holy grail ritual' with no support at all form the Mage's Association. Just me given command over a bunch of you loonies. You all might be lowly heretics, but I am nobility! I won't tolerate this carelessness!" The woman stood up to emphasize her point, her shoulder length scarlet hair swaying like angry flames. The plane hit some turbulence, and her balance faltered, making her awkwardly stumble back into her seat with a whimper of surprise. Her face turned red. Whether with anger or embarrassment, the world would never know. Asking would be fatal.
"Hush now, missy," the cowboy quipped back, his tone steady and calm. He kept his stare concentrated on you. "This oughta be the seventh time you've been shoutin' at us like that. Take it slow. Dyin' in a panic's the worst way to go."
"Now'n, back to the beginnin'. Gotta name?" asked the cowboy as he leaned forward towards you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
Your head still hurt. You try to process his words, but your head only aches in response. You try to remember, but it's like trying to reach a mirage - the more you reach, the farther your memories flee. You stay silent, with a confused look plastered on you. You try to move but realize you are frozen in standing position on the center aisle. A curse that fixes you to a specific space - a simple one that a magus should naturally be able to resist, but it seems that you are in far too weak of a condition to do so. You look around helplessly at your companions, searching for a clue somewhere, anywhere. The bandaged man's face is invisible, hidden behind a mass of cloth. The cowboy's face is impassive and yields no hints. The woman appears worried, her brows upraised in a nervous surprise, as if something is not going as she would have thought it would.
Now you remember. Your name. Who you are.
"My name is..."
[ ] Write - In
And you are:
An abomination. A mad magus's brilliant discovery and undoing – a living, sentient virus drawn from the depths of glacial ice. Your current human form is simply temporary, a mere puppet of flesh and blood to work with.
[Relationship bonus with the bandaged man]
[X] Medium (Write In):
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
A disgraced Knight of the Red Branch. You who could not follow ideology and struck down your comrades for your lofty ideals. A warrior in every sense of the word and, perhaps, a hero.
[Relationship bonus with the cowboy]
____________________
Servant Matrix
Name: Heracles
Origin: Greek Mythology
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Height: 253 cm
Weight: 311 Kg
Class: ???
Parameters
STR: A+
END: B+
AGI: A
MGI: C
LCK: E
Class Skills:
???
Personal Skills:
Bravery: A+
The ability to negate mental interference such as pressure, confusion and fascination. Not usable under the effects of Mad Enhancement. Bonus effect of increasing melee damage.
Noble Phantasms:
Nine Lives
Shooting Hundred Heads
Range: ???
Rank: C-A
The most trusted of all of Heracles's noble phantasms. It originally had the form of the bow and arrows used to simultaneously exterminate the one hundred heads of the Hydra, an immortal nine-headed serpent, that would grow back no matter how many times they were cut down. It is an all-purpose Noble Phantasm capable of adapting and changing how it appears depending on the target and circumstances of its use.
Regardless of whether it is delivered with a bow, large sword, shield, spear, axe, or possibly even unarmed, the technique boasts power on the level of Noble Phantasms by drawing out the maximum power of the weapon. It can display power from Anti-Unit to Anti-Army, even up to fortress sieging all depending on the circumstances.
So far a rank A variant and anti-group type variant where a hundred unarmed blows are unleashed has been revealed.
Origin: Greek Mythology
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Height: 253 cm
Weight: 311 Kg
Class: ???
Parameters
STR: A+
END: B+
AGI: A
MGI: C
LCK: E
Class Skills:
???
Personal Skills:
Bravery: A+
The ability to negate mental interference such as pressure, confusion and fascination. Not usable under the effects of Mad Enhancement. Bonus effect of increasing melee damage.
Noble Phantasms:
Nine Lives
Shooting Hundred Heads
Range: ???
Rank: C-A
The most trusted of all of Heracles's noble phantasms. It originally had the form of the bow and arrows used to simultaneously exterminate the one hundred heads of the Hydra, an immortal nine-headed serpent, that would grow back no matter how many times they were cut down. It is an all-purpose Noble Phantasm capable of adapting and changing how it appears depending on the target and circumstances of its use.
Regardless of whether it is delivered with a bow, large sword, shield, spear, axe, or possibly even unarmed, the technique boasts power on the level of Noble Phantasms by drawing out the maximum power of the weapon. It can display power from Anti-Unit to Anti-Army, even up to fortress sieging all depending on the circumstances.
So far a rank A variant and anti-group type variant where a hundred unarmed blows are unleashed has been revealed.
Last edited:
Dromeosaur
Feathery Raptor of snowy planes and frozen sea
- Location
- The land of Trees and Squirrels
[X] Easy
Because why not?
[X] Karl Martell
Because why not?
[X] Karl Martell
DevilsAdvocate
Always follow the golden rule.
[X] Hard:
An abomination. A mad magus's brilliant discovery and undoing – a living, sentient virus drawn from the depths of glacial ice. Your current human form is simply temporary, a mere puppet of flesh and blood to work with.
[X] Bob
An abomination. A mad magus's brilliant discovery and undoing – a living, sentient virus drawn from the depths of glacial ice. Your current human form is simply temporary, a mere puppet of flesh and blood to work with.
[X] Bob
- Location
- w e w
A name to inspire fear in all hearts indeed.
Neo-Chan
Extremely hungover College student
- Location
- North Carolina
[X] Medium
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
Let' not go full hard mode, I don't think SV is ruthless enough to play a body snatcher.
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
Let' not go full hard mode, I don't think SV is ruthless enough to play a body snatcher.
- Location
- w e w
Did you mean the hard option?
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
[X] Medium
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
- Location
- St. Petersburg
[X] Medium
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
I am fine with the middle of the road. Why would it provide a bonus to dealings with the woman? Didn't she just scoff at us lowly heretics?
Regardless, she amuses me, so I guess I might choosethis just to risk asking the fatal question. Hopefully it won't crash the plane.
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
I am fine with the middle of the road. Why would it provide a bonus to dealings with the woman? Didn't she just scoff at us lowly heretics?
Regardless, she amuses me, so I guess I might choosethis just to risk asking the fatal question. Hopefully it won't crash the plane.
MatrixOne
Writer
- Location
- Poland
[X] Hard
[X] Johnny Abbott
The virus doesn't necessarily have to be evil. We'd be very difficult to kill. And who's to say we couldn't kind of cooperate with the host, within his mind? Maybe use our own Magic Circuits to enhance his. Imagine this kind of symbiotic relationship.
It'd be epic.
[X] Johnny Abbott
The virus doesn't necessarily have to be evil. We'd be very difficult to kill. And who's to say we couldn't kind of cooperate with the host, within his mind? Maybe use our own Magic Circuits to enhance his. Imagine this kind of symbiotic relationship.
It'd be epic.
- Location
- w e w
In the nasu verse heretics are actually somewhat respected by magi because they essentially just maxed out on an esoteric way of getting to the root (like norikata emiya). Of course other types of heretic like legit crazies who murder everyone and threaten magecraft's secrecy are looked down upon. So you'd get a thread of understanding in the realm of magecraft with the woman, which is better than nothing.[X] Medium
A heretical magus. You have been condemned by the Mage's Association for some reason or another, and now you stand here.
[Relationship bonus with the woman]
[X] Johnny Abbott
I am fine with the middle of the road. Why would it provide a bonus to dealings with the woman? Didn't she just scoff at us lowly heretics?
Regardless, she amuses me, so I guess I might choosethis just to risk asking the fatal question. Hopefully it won't crash the plane.
- Location
- w e w
Gotta admit you guys have a fine sense of naming lmao
Shit, I didn't even notice that.
- Location
- w e w
True genius lies hidden as they say
- Location
- w e w
Vote tally:
##### 3.21
[X] Easy
[X] Karl Martell
No. of votes: 1
Dromeosaur
[X] Hard:
[X] Bob
No. of votes: 2
dunk1010, Scredy
[X] Medium
[X] Johnny Abbott
No. of votes: 3
Neo-Chan, IKnowNothing, Nevill
[X] Easy
No. of votes: 1
Actan
[X] Hard
[X] Johnny Abbott
No. of votes: 1
MatrixOne
[X] Hard
[X] Willy McJameson
No. of votes: 1
Side Character
Although I would very much have wanted hard willy to win, looks like Abbott is gonna make it through. Don't think I'm gonna get any more votes, so I'll just shut down for now.
##### 3.21
[X] Easy
[X] Karl Martell
No. of votes: 1
Dromeosaur
[X] Hard:
[X] Bob
No. of votes: 2
dunk1010, Scredy
[X] Medium
[X] Johnny Abbott
No. of votes: 3
Neo-Chan, IKnowNothing, Nevill
[X] Easy
No. of votes: 1
Actan
[X] Hard
[X] Johnny Abbott
No. of votes: 1
MatrixOne
[X] Hard
[X] Willy McJameson
No. of votes: 1
Side Character
Although I would very much have wanted hard willy to win, looks like Abbott is gonna make it through. Don't think I'm gonna get any more votes, so I'll just shut down for now.
Though it may not have succeeded here, we can keep the dream alive in our hearts.
1: Heretic Party
- Location
- w e w
"My name is Johnny Abbott," you say. Your voice comes out in a grating rasp. You lick your lips, finding only a parched and cracked surface to greet your dry tongue. Obviously, you weren't in the best of conditions. You feel unbelievably tired. Every single one of your muscles pulses out dull aches, as if you had performed some intensive workout and you were just now feeling the agonizing aftermath. Worst of all, you were still standing up. Whoever cast this binding curse on you had very little consideration for others. It didn't even have the decency to hold you in place. It just made you keep standing in one place on the strength of your own good old two legs.
Not too different from a crucifixion really.
You blink away such a negative thought, only to find more negativity flooding your head. You desperately wished for a seat. Even the makeshift seating that the others were on would be bliss compared to standing for god knows how long. You could also use a drink. Maybe a snack as well. You shake your head. Absolutely no point thinking about wants, they'd only keep you wanting more every moment that passed. Regardless of what you thought, you still found your eyes ever so slightly flitting to the oh so comfortable hard as iron cold as ice seats.
"Johnny Abbot, eh?" queried the cowboy with a slight smile tugging at his lips. His comment snapped you out of your downward spiral of thoughts, letting you focus on him again. For that, you were thankful. The cowboy seemed to be familiar with your kind of situation, as he gave a small and understanding nod to you. "I like it. Don't sound very fancy n' artsy like miss Teller Telereleleles here." He motioned to the woman with his chin, a teasing glint playing in his eyes.
The woman raised a balled fist towards the cowboy. "For the third time now, it's Brand Tellara Sententius Thelemavla! The eighth head of the grand Thelemavla family. How many times must I correct you before your thick former enforcer skull remembers!?"
The cowboy put his back on and lowered it in apology. "Sorry missy. This old dog here ain't got the finest way with words." He looked back at you with a wink. "So n', why're you here? Sides' miss Telelava here, we should all be disposable rejects. Like me: I was an enforcer 'fore I killed eight 'Ssociation favorite enforcers. Him there -," He pointed lazily towards the bandaged man.
"Had a sealin' designation on his head for seventy damn years. Musta' killed more than forty suckers tryna' catch im' over those years."
The bandaged man stood up and performed a mocking curtsy before sitting down again, wordless.
Your tired mind took a while to get your thoughts in order. First off, you thought about what had been said. As a magus, you'd heard of the Thelemavla family. They were a high ranking one within the Association, with the "Brand" in front of Tellara's name signifying that her rank was around that of the distinguished lord. It was odd though. The Thelemavla family focused entirely on the magecraft of dreams and the world hidden within minds. Their specialty was highly abstract and heavily research based - utterly useless in the life or death scenarios bound to pop up in a holy grail war.
Then again, it did seem like Tellara had control over the other two and you as well. You didn't know who the cowboy was, as you hadn't really kept track of the people hunting you after your sealing designation because there were simply so many. But you knew very well who the bandaged man was. Judging from his appearance and his infamous track record, the man was Kadishtu, a former Brand of the Mage's Association who caused his body to become something far more than human around a century ago. There were many rumors circulating about him, but none of them held any concrete information. What they did all have in common was that he was not an individual to be toyed with. He left no bodies behind and those that did survive combat with him came out permanently crippled magically and suffering from severe memory loss.
"So?" the cowboy continued, "how bout' you? What'd you do?"
The sudden question snapped you out of your thoughts. In your scramble to find an answer, you simply blurted out the type of magecraft you practiced, which, in your mind, was synonymous to a mug shot that qualified you to be with this group.
______________________________
[ ] Singularity Meltdown
A heretical type of magecraft that you devised entirely on your own. It is a mix and mash of various concepts from a multitude of culture spheres regarding the nature of the Cosmos. You, like all magi, wanted to reach the Root. To do so, you spent years upon years devising a method where you would cause you or other things to become a "singularity" - an anomaly of space time that would be annihilated almost instantly. In this way, you could achieve entrance into the root of all existence, but you first needed a method to retain your consciousness through the bodily destruction you would face upon being deconstructed. Alas, you never did find this trick, as you were captured by the Mage's Association long before you could even begin to think of a solution.
-Magecraft abilities include astrology to make predictions and manipulate fate, fortunetelling, and expert boundary field creation related to the manipulation of chances and probabilities.
-Mindset becomes that of a more typical magus, being utilitarian and analytical
[ ] Redefinition
You hold an incredible sorcery trait: the capacity to "redefine" an object's existence through a host of rituals you designed for just this purpose. By doing this, you could alter creation as a kind of hand of god. A rock could have its existence redefined to be a sword, which would cause the rock to desperately adapt to the concept of a blade. You played around with this ability, at first attracting no attention as you simply experimented on inorganic things. When you did try this on a living, breathing animal, you found that you could not alter its physical form, but its soul. You could implant thoughts, desires, urges, memories, and other psychological drives or alter existing ones. With this ability you unexpectedly attempted to find ways to better human nature rather than simply serving your own selfish needs, which, due to some harmless human experimentation, led to your presence being known and thus your capture.
-Magecraft abilities include highly advanced reinforcement, spiritual healing, physical healing, and spiritual evocation.
-Mindset becomes more heroic and selfless
[ ] Musica Universalis
You were so close. So close to your masterpiece. Coming from a long line of musical magi, you had but one goal in mind: to compose the Musica Universalis that represented the totality of creation in all its rhythms and beats. Day and night, you worked tirelessly for this one singular goal. However, you were thwarted just when you thought you were beginning to understand it all. Apparently the Association did not like the possibility of a song being played that could cause unimaginable side effects to reality. You had lived your whole life for one goal, but now you are thrust into an unfamiliar world which your previously sheltered life leaves you mentally unprepared for.
-Magecraft abilities include almost every musical magecraft in existence. From the music of the East that calls upon the spirits of the dead to the tunes of Ireland that bid the elements under control, you have an exceptional understanding.
-Mindset is balanced and malleable. Experiences will very significantly change it.
Not too different from a crucifixion really.
You blink away such a negative thought, only to find more negativity flooding your head. You desperately wished for a seat. Even the makeshift seating that the others were on would be bliss compared to standing for god knows how long. You could also use a drink. Maybe a snack as well. You shake your head. Absolutely no point thinking about wants, they'd only keep you wanting more every moment that passed. Regardless of what you thought, you still found your eyes ever so slightly flitting to the oh so comfortable hard as iron cold as ice seats.
"Johnny Abbot, eh?" queried the cowboy with a slight smile tugging at his lips. His comment snapped you out of your downward spiral of thoughts, letting you focus on him again. For that, you were thankful. The cowboy seemed to be familiar with your kind of situation, as he gave a small and understanding nod to you. "I like it. Don't sound very fancy n' artsy like miss Teller Telereleleles here." He motioned to the woman with his chin, a teasing glint playing in his eyes.
The woman raised a balled fist towards the cowboy. "For the third time now, it's Brand Tellara Sententius Thelemavla! The eighth head of the grand Thelemavla family. How many times must I correct you before your thick former enforcer skull remembers!?"
The cowboy put his back on and lowered it in apology. "Sorry missy. This old dog here ain't got the finest way with words." He looked back at you with a wink. "So n', why're you here? Sides' miss Telelava here, we should all be disposable rejects. Like me: I was an enforcer 'fore I killed eight 'Ssociation favorite enforcers. Him there -," He pointed lazily towards the bandaged man.
"Had a sealin' designation on his head for seventy damn years. Musta' killed more than forty suckers tryna' catch im' over those years."
The bandaged man stood up and performed a mocking curtsy before sitting down again, wordless.
Your tired mind took a while to get your thoughts in order. First off, you thought about what had been said. As a magus, you'd heard of the Thelemavla family. They were a high ranking one within the Association, with the "Brand" in front of Tellara's name signifying that her rank was around that of the distinguished lord. It was odd though. The Thelemavla family focused entirely on the magecraft of dreams and the world hidden within minds. Their specialty was highly abstract and heavily research based - utterly useless in the life or death scenarios bound to pop up in a holy grail war.
Then again, it did seem like Tellara had control over the other two and you as well. You didn't know who the cowboy was, as you hadn't really kept track of the people hunting you after your sealing designation because there were simply so many. But you knew very well who the bandaged man was. Judging from his appearance and his infamous track record, the man was Kadishtu, a former Brand of the Mage's Association who caused his body to become something far more than human around a century ago. There were many rumors circulating about him, but none of them held any concrete information. What they did all have in common was that he was not an individual to be toyed with. He left no bodies behind and those that did survive combat with him came out permanently crippled magically and suffering from severe memory loss.
"So?" the cowboy continued, "how bout' you? What'd you do?"
The sudden question snapped you out of your thoughts. In your scramble to find an answer, you simply blurted out the type of magecraft you practiced, which, in your mind, was synonymous to a mug shot that qualified you to be with this group.
______________________________
[ ] Singularity Meltdown
A heretical type of magecraft that you devised entirely on your own. It is a mix and mash of various concepts from a multitude of culture spheres regarding the nature of the Cosmos. You, like all magi, wanted to reach the Root. To do so, you spent years upon years devising a method where you would cause you or other things to become a "singularity" - an anomaly of space time that would be annihilated almost instantly. In this way, you could achieve entrance into the root of all existence, but you first needed a method to retain your consciousness through the bodily destruction you would face upon being deconstructed. Alas, you never did find this trick, as you were captured by the Mage's Association long before you could even begin to think of a solution.
-Magecraft abilities include astrology to make predictions and manipulate fate, fortunetelling, and expert boundary field creation related to the manipulation of chances and probabilities.
-Mindset becomes that of a more typical magus, being utilitarian and analytical
[ ] Redefinition
You hold an incredible sorcery trait: the capacity to "redefine" an object's existence through a host of rituals you designed for just this purpose. By doing this, you could alter creation as a kind of hand of god. A rock could have its existence redefined to be a sword, which would cause the rock to desperately adapt to the concept of a blade. You played around with this ability, at first attracting no attention as you simply experimented on inorganic things. When you did try this on a living, breathing animal, you found that you could not alter its physical form, but its soul. You could implant thoughts, desires, urges, memories, and other psychological drives or alter existing ones. With this ability you unexpectedly attempted to find ways to better human nature rather than simply serving your own selfish needs, which, due to some harmless human experimentation, led to your presence being known and thus your capture.
-Magecraft abilities include highly advanced reinforcement, spiritual healing, physical healing, and spiritual evocation.
-Mindset becomes more heroic and selfless
[ ] Musica Universalis
You were so close. So close to your masterpiece. Coming from a long line of musical magi, you had but one goal in mind: to compose the Musica Universalis that represented the totality of creation in all its rhythms and beats. Day and night, you worked tirelessly for this one singular goal. However, you were thwarted just when you thought you were beginning to understand it all. Apparently the Association did not like the possibility of a song being played that could cause unimaginable side effects to reality. You had lived your whole life for one goal, but now you are thrust into an unfamiliar world which your previously sheltered life leaves you mentally unprepared for.
-Magecraft abilities include almost every musical magecraft in existence. From the music of the East that calls upon the spirits of the dead to the tunes of Ireland that bid the elements under control, you have an exceptional understanding.
-Mindset is balanced and malleable. Experiences will very significantly change it.
Last edited:
DevilsAdvocate
Always follow the golden rule.
I am... Conflicted...
- Location
- w e w
Speaketh thy inner conflict, so that I may resolve it