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Suzerain of Sheol Suzerain of Sheol is offline
Desolation Denizen
Default   #225  
You have three Command Seals, Isaac. You don't need to ask my permission.

But, if rational thought should happen to invade you, I reiterate: vivisection. And perhaps a side of castration will be in order, too.

You do comprehend that if you win the Holy Grail you can simply wish for a world of infinite maidens willing to please your every whim? While that may seem to conflict with my own wish for the Kingdom of Satan on Earth, I assure you we can make it work, if that it is what is needed.


It isn't so much that she's disappointed in her Master as suddenly, shockingly aware of her own total lack of libido. In her lifetime, she'd have been doing much the same as Isaac, but this vessel called Assassin cares nothing for carnal distractions. The only passion to incense her now is for the tearing down of God's works and the raising up of her lord's.

But, for what? What does she care if the powers of Hell reign supreme over the earth from which she long ago expired? The woman Catherine would have cared not a whit, but this unholy specter shackled into the form of a Heroic Spirit... it desires nothing else.

And where does that leave her? Hollow, someone's reverie of the life she'd once lived. A perverse reflection lacking substance.

It would trouble her immensely, if only the killing in which she was about to indulge wasn't so immediately delicious.
Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.
Old Posted 03-06-2016, 01:04 AM Reply With Quote  
Default   #226   Salone Salone is offline
Problem to the Solution
Maidens expressly made to do his bidding. What was the point? What was the point to paradise knowing there was no reason to continue on? To live out his days in prosperity with no struggle, no end goal. It sounded sickening. No, Isaac was ready for something different.

As he smiled and flirted with the woman in front of him, Isaac finally realized what he wanted most from this war.

He wanted to die.

He had lived a full life, and from his view he was sick of continuing it. He had been places, done things, and now it was time for him to go. But his own cowardice prevented him from taking his own life. Simply letting the sickness and disease festering inside his body to do their nature was not within him. Painting his brain across the wall was something he could not bring himself to do. To exacerbate the issue, any death from Isaac would cause consequences for several square miles. Disease and plague would ravage everything around him. Diseases thought long extinguished flourished in his blood. To kill him would be to kill hundreds, perhaps even thousands. He wanted to die. And that was his wish. To die in a place where he could harm no one. To cease to exist. He communicated as much to Catherine, continuing his conversation full of life with the pretty lady while he spoke suicide with another.

I don't want that Catherine. I want to die. I want to simply cease to be, in a way that won't but a black scar across the world. I am a pandemic, a virus that has not yet run its course. To kill me would be to kill countless others who have nothing to do with this. I plan to win, and then I am going to die.
Old Posted 03-07-2016, 04:51 AM Reply With Quote  
Suzerain of Sheol Suzerain of Sheol is offline
Desolation Denizen
Default   #227  
Isaac... mon chère, I did not know you to be so unimaginative. You're a man of such humble means, surely you know you don't need the Grail for something like that. There are so many places you could have your death -- deserts, tundras, leaping into a volcano -- if that's what you truly want, we could arrange for it this instant.

Besides, the Grail does not deal in vagaries. You'll need a more precise idea of what you have in mind than that, if that's really what you plan to wish for.

In the mean time, though, I truly do recommend seducing that charlatan harlot. Eradicating one of our enemies with such ease would be nothing but a tremendous advantage this early in the war. Think on it.
Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.
Old Posted 03-07-2016, 07:04 PM Reply With Quote  
Default   #228   Poggio Poggio is offline
Bald and loving it!
The Berserker quelled her instinct to harshly laugh at her poor master, settling instead for a snort that was only a small prelude to the nonexistence smirk. Sincerity or sarcasm... Mr. Kites title dipped into both sides of the coin. Unable to contain herself with her answer, she spoke from the old Latin prayers from which this church was inspired. Refusing to pacify his fears with physicality, the voice inside his head retorted "Ave Maria, gratia plena, Mr. Kite, Dominus tecum."

As for the others, the truce kept her from really knowing how much of a threat they could potentially be, though if the boy was already shivering in his tight pants. Mary’s thoughts distractedly turned to ruminating how easily it would be to shoot the one that boldly showed himself. Too many of the servants went unaccounted for, including the lovely Archer. The Assassin, and other masked players left too many questions.

There was a small intake of imaginary air as the Berzerker made to voice her opinions, but she paused. What came out was more of a tsk as the mana presence continued to observe. The only masters Mr. Kite could immediately conquer would be those appearing of his own youth.

"The Executioner will hang ye." It was simply stated that even the Berserker did not nix the words with her antiquated accent.

"The Assassin will scuttle ye long afore ye reacheth f'r anoth'r crisped wurly, The Lad- hmm," pausing to consider , King Eric as he was announced, and continued "A child, but his s’rvant be unpredictable.” Mary paused long enough to take in the newest guest. If Mr. Kite was ready to prove his valor, then he could take a simple wenches throat.

“Kill th’ Lass, nay M’lady, but th’ plain Lass. She looks easy enough t’ sully yer hands with while the oth’rs destroyeth themselves.”


Mary did not mention servant floating around the girl. She shifted attention focusing instead on the misunderstanding yet again of what her powers were. "I scourge, I plund’r, 'n I keepeth wha’s dutifully mine. I be no map maker. Me collection be mine fer th' rummagin'. Wha' gives ye, yer flatt’ry any rights t' it”
Last edited by Poggio; 03-07-2016 at 08:52 PM.
Old Posted 03-07-2016, 08:46 PM Reply With Quote  
Doctor Gabriel Doctor Gabriel is offline
nostalgic
Default   #229  
“Adversus Solem Ne Loquitor, Berserker,” Mr. Kite snapped back internally. The Spirit seemed unwilling to let a conversation in any language slip by without a jab or dismissal at his expense. His pride demanded he fight it, but his reason overshadowed that inclination. Despite their mutual animosity, they were allies in this battle and there was nothing either could do to change that. So he simply took a quiet, deep breathe and ignored the nagging feeling that told him she had mistaken his caution for cowardice.

As much as I’d love nothing less than to rip his spine out, you’re right. The Executor can wait. I’d take no joy in letting another end fanatically arrogant existance, but if that is how the cards fall, it’ll be a small blessing from his imaginary Lord.

Mr. Kite eyed the young woman Berserker suggested. She was the one he had seen ride in on the motorcycle with the Fine Arts Major, who was now certain was her Servant. She looked easy enough to eviscerate, but the painter was an unknown element. Failure to grasp his capabilities could mean an early end for the Blood Mage.

How wonderfully convenient it would be if that had been Rider… Knowing his class would at least allow for easier strategizing, but I doubt it’s quite that simple.

Mr. Kite wanted to poke several holes in Berserker's “I’m a strong, independant buccaneer and I don’t need no man!” but something occurred to him as she waved her translucent, nonexistent dick about that was far more appealing. He could glean information by draining the mana of others through their blood, so why wouldn’t a straight transfer work just as well? He’d no longer have to deal with the profound inconvenience of not understanding her abilities nor her gripes regarding that fact.

Doing his best to appear relaxed and casual as they all awaited Ruler’s arrival, he closed his eyes and began to drink back some of the mana he was feeding his Servant. He made sure not to deprive her of any amount that would be detrimental to her tether to this realm and once he’d gotten what he wanted, simply sent it back, like a filter straining information rather than grime.

He stifled a gasp from the rush of knowledge that overcame him. Images, emotions, memories, and details crashed and trickled through his mind like a hurricane inside his skull. But he finally understood who his Servant was and what she was capable of. He couldn’t help but smile sinisterly once it all fell into place before him.

Oh… This is going to be fun.
Old Posted 03-09-2016, 08:17 PM Reply With Quote  
Default   #230   Quiet Man Cometh Quiet Man Cometh is offline
We're all mad here.
**There is another servant present, hidden, like myself,** Rider imparts to Ell through their link. **Not all are here though, even counting the one outside, by the statue.**

Rider thinks again to the strangely wounded servant he saw praying at the statue. He showed himself then, so I'm not sure he would bother to hide himself now. **That servant outside, he was praying. If he is not with us here, than perhaps he cares more about his faith than he does his master. So what then, would be his aim with the Grail? And the priest...it can't be assumed they are master and servant...perhaps a collision...**

Rider's drifting link becomes clear again. **How would you feel about visiting that library soon?**
Old Posted 03-10-2016, 02:16 AM Reply With Quote  
Poggio Poggio is offline
Bald and loving it!
Default   #231  
More of the Beserker’s laugh intruded the thoughts of her master. The young man seemed to only answer her question in the form Latin beyond her context to understand. Without another word, the mana presence left the side of Mr. Kite in favor of impatient curiosity. Drifting past the party, free of the eyes of the church Mary gathered herself into her physical form striding around the church. Her intent was to find Archer. May they revel in peace while it last. Instead she found, Jesus… lamenting over … Jesus, profusely speaking prayers to himself? The absurdity of the notion amused her along with a growing sense of doom for her poor novice master.

The Beserker interrupted his string of words for her own. “Ah’y, well aren’t yer a load’d caliver. Which cockswain brought th’ L’rd t’ feedeth the fishes eh?”
Old Posted 03-12-2016, 03:33 PM Reply With Quote  
Default   #232   Suzerain of Sheol Suzerain of Sheol is offline
Desolation Denizen
"Brought here? I am afraid you are mistaken. I am all those things that remain when the plagues have fled, when the last sword falls from hands too weak to raise it, when the ravens grow morbid and bored in their glutting." Rising with grim, burdened dignity, the Fisher-King casts a final gaze to the image of his Lord. "When Adam took his first tremulous step from the portico of Eden, I was there in the wastelands to greet him. When Satan crawled fettered from the burning lake, I awaited on the shore."

His head swivels languorously to regard his visitor. Suddenly, the Spear is in his hand. "Brazen spirit, you stand before damnation incarnate. With every breath, I echo the abandonment of God. The adamantine gates to the inferno stand unguarded, and of all the Tarterian horrors that shall soon issue screaming forth, I am the first, as I was always the first."

And then, with sudden, inhuman speed, Lancer strikes, his arm snapping like lightning to drive the Spear into the stone side of Christ. A flare of mana along the blade awakens the indelible blood upon it, which begins to seep and spread across the passionless effigy. A hollow act of consecration, but thus is the plight of every martyr upon this earth unparadised.

Never breaking his stare upon the intruding Servant, Pelles grates, "What is your purpose here?"
Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.
Old Posted 03-12-2016, 05:05 PM Reply With Quote  
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