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Post by Hannibal Atrocious on Jan 31, 2010 19:51:37 GMT -5
Standing atop a summoning circle of miniscule proportion is a slim magus with golden blond hair messily covering his eyes. He was quiet and completely still with a posture that was meant for casting a spell that required a high amount of concentration. Once his preparation was complete, Hannibal began to reach for a rustic spellbook atop a stand nearly, reading the ancient verses from its pages. Perplexing yet refined and annunciated, Hannibal recited the spell exactly as it was written, focusing entirely on channeling his mana into the circle, “I am the host of great power, the vanquisher of the wordly imbalance. Heed the sacred name of my ancestor and drink my blood and from the void bring forth mine sword, the sword to steer the direction of my fate and should fate favor me, opening the golden door of paradise. Elumatis norio veltuae didyla!”
Placing the book back to where it originally was, Hannibal removed a razor blade from his pocket and left a thin slice across his left thumb, letting the glowing circle feed on his noble blood. Immidiately invoking a response in the form of a gust and blew upward, Hannibal instinctively blocked his face as magic concentrated heavily within the circle and began to levitate various objects that was near it, one of which including the summoner himself. The intensity was so great that any magus could literally feel something being ‘opened’, however, the materialization of heroic spirit according to text was not something that mortals have the privilege to witness. As the massive magic dispersed into nothingness, the levitating objects falls prey to the earthly gravity once again and quickly fell to the ground.
Painfully struggling to stand up, a maid’s scream could be heard coming from the floor above as she began thrashing about, carelessly flinging his vases as though they were projectiles. Putting the ceremony on hold, the summoner made his way upward as fast as he could, curious about the thing that was transpiring between the maid and her opponent.
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Post by Taena Travies on Feb 1, 2010 14:21:33 GMT -5
A crash came as the wold split, and the shell broke into this world. The image, the understanding what this was, what had passed, and what would occur. A pale hand felt the rippling magic power course through her as she gained color, her body had become female, been bestowed armor, been given weapons, tools in which to work with this ritual, tools for the Holy Grail. The shell breathed it's first breath of air, this had all come in an instant, she had been summoned, and she could feel the od flowing through her body. A mixture of her natural amazing levels of od completed by her master's mana. This... was potent. Yet she was confused. A crash had come when she was summoned, things were broken, she was laying on a table, splintered wood and broken dishes under her body. She stared forward and saw the only person in front of her. Dressed so strangely, the shell could not help but smile as she twirled the opposing colors of blades and sheathed them at her sides, her hand reaching towards the maid calmly.
"Servant Caster, are you-"
And she was attacked, Caster's body flying by, twisting and screaming past the attacks. Vase Mastery was not a skill she was aware of, but by the looks of it, this person was just a human. If she was not her master, she would simply be rendered incapable of further action. However, there was the slim chance this person was a more devious servant. Assassin or Rider could both hide such power as they depended on stealth or mounts. Still, Caster felt an air of certainty. This was just a woman, it was a shame. Nobody can witness this war and live. Even the Masters will all die, and thus, this woman would perish as well. There would be no hinderences between Caster and the Holy Grail. Her hands falling to a cross at her hips as her body moved she would form and draw her blades, a flash of black and white flying outwards as the silvery white blade would strike horizontally at the made, her black counterpart striking vertically, both stopping an inch from completion.
"Show me your hands."
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Post by Hannibal Atrocious on Feb 2, 2010 0:33:01 GMT -5
CLANG, BAAAAA-SH!!! CLAAANG!!! the antique vases did indeed fly across the room with a powerful kinetic energy packed behind the throw, however, the vases did not strike the intended target and instead collide against the wall and burst into hundreds of fragments. Completely taken back by the strange woman’s sudden retaliation, which was a series of inhumane movements and an insanity dangerous aura, the maid instinctively crossed her arms in front of her face and stepped back to the wall where she waited to be struck down. Time passed slowly, almost too slowly, the maid was completely drenched in cold sweat as her eyes were tightly shut, anticipating the moment she would be killed. However, a long silent ensured as no harm ever came to her. Slowly opening her eyes, the maid then was thrown out of harm’s way as Hannibal stood in her place, stopping the Heroic Spirit from taking all actions. Neither fear nor confusion was present on his sharp face as he swiftly put up his left hand, pulling down his sleeve and revealed the vigorously glowing crest that signified him as a Summoner.
With a single glance, Hannibal confirmed that the strange female was indeed his summoned servant and thus made his way toward the sofa. Claiming a seat atop the peach colored cushion, the blond Summoner then made a physical assessment of his servant. She was indeed very exotic beauty-wise, it is rather difficult to tell what sort of person she was while she was still alive, where she came from and what her background might be like. Hell, she might not even be a famous hero recorded by man’s history. Although, since it was his first summoning, Hannibal did not recognize the class which he had just summoned, thus encouraging him to speak up in an authoritative manner. “Seeing as you are undoubtedly what I had summoned, which class might you be and what is your real identity. Sefi, prepare the table and Darjeeling for two.”
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Post by Taena Travies on Feb 2, 2010 15:05:30 GMT -5
Caster would frown a bit seeing the Master move her target. But seeing there would be no combat at the moment, she sheathed her blades, both of them disappearing as she did so. Her green orbs would warily follow the man before sighing lightly and following after. Her armor would disappear, replaced by a tunic of sorts. Thin, but concealing, the dress-tunic would flow with every step adding further beauty to the strange summoning. The appearance of a Servant was not something Hannibal's meek books could properly describe. She might be simular to a familiar, but she was beyond mortal comprehension. She was a being that could not exist, and as such Caster could already feel Akasha demanding her body destroyed. Still her Master was supplying her with sufficient Mana, Akasha would not have her. Not until she was done with the Grail. As Caster approached the table she shook her head lightly as she remained standing, looking down at the man.
"Servant Caster. My truest identity is more than a name, and it is not something you can summarize so lightly. I am Taena Travies. Please do not show further incompetence as a Master and let that slip, this contract does not last forever. That said, your abilities are not under question. You've summoned the most powerful Servant, and encased it within the Caster Class for diversity. Even at that, you are modest enough to realize that you may have failed your target, as you did my destination. Master, we will obtain the Holy Grail, just don't die."
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Post by Hannibal Atrocious on Feb 2, 2010 16:06:09 GMT -5
As insults were thrown toward Hannibal’s direction, the two auras began to clash, creating a rather negative atmosphere inside the room. Despite his misallocation during the summoning earlier, Hannibal does have his pride as an extremely knowledgeable mage who has went through years of self-training within his family’s extensive library and under the teaching of countless magi. However, no matter how irritated he was, only a poker smile could be seen on his face as he listened to the beautiful woman spoke of the natural agreement and ultimate goal between them. Once Caster was done talking, the maid from earlier reentered the room with a silver tray on her hand. The tray itself was filled with baked sweets, and two teacups to compliment it. Almost as though she had completely forgotten the event from earlier, the maid swiftly set the end-table between the two chairs facing one another and bowed to her employer before she went her way. “Well then Master, please excuse my interruption.”
As an uncomfortable silence arose, Hannibal interjected, “Sit down, there are a few things we need to go over so long as you are fighting by my side to obtain the Holy Grail.” Pausing for a moment, the blond summoner picked up his teacup along with the saucer and bought it to his nose where he deeply inhaled the sweet scent of Darjeeling. Then, he took a modest sip before moving it away from his face once more as he looked at his Servant. “First, unless I instruct you to, don’t enter your spirit form. Secondly, you will assume the identity of a personal maid I used to have who died a few months back, that means you will respond to the name ‘Cecile’ when I call out to you in public settings. Third, do not kill needlessly. The death of worthless humans should only contribute a greater purpose or our advantage. As long as you can follow these three rules, there should be no problem in our partnership. Although I made some mistake with the summoning earlier, I can confidently say that my magic and my noble phantasm are both competent. Battling and the usage of your own power, unless extremely excessive, will not easily wear me out.”
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Post by Taena Travies on Feb 6, 2010 18:52:34 GMT -5
The woman waited, allowed the man to stop, a few moments of ugly and dangerous silence would escape between them, a judgmental glare flowing through the Magus as Caster would merely cross her arms, her green orbs locking onto the man's frame, eating away at him. This look of one who only could have been a King in her past life. An aura of strict elegance in her very appearance, posture notwithstanding . She would shake her head a bit as a response, her eyes maintaining their lock, carefully drifting from side to side, never fading in their purpose to see through the man's actions and words, to search for the core of him. It was a simply task that people did every day. But those people of power mastered the art, that is how they gained power.
"I refuse. If you intend to force me to dismiss my pride and honor, you will have to burn two seals from your hand. The first, to force me to dismiss my honor, and, the second , to ensure I continue protecting you despite your incompetence of wasting a command spell on such a thing. For if this is the task you have in mind for me, you will be unable to do much without disgusting me in your own megalomaniac fashion. I am not some hero that fought hard, one the good fight, and retreated to my little hut to rest until I am called on again. My entire life has been a hero, my entire existence has been a struggle. That is my power, my history, and I will not allow myself to stomp on that pride. I will be no servitor."
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Post by Hannibal Atrocious on Feb 6, 2010 19:49:34 GMT -5
Despite Caster’s sternness, Hannibal did not stand down; he even returned her judgmental glare with his own cold eyes, unbothered by her nobility in the slightest. In his opinion, there was simply no reason to comply with such a disobedient Servant. Certainly, she was once a respectable mythological figure of great importance, however, those golden days have long past, all that is left is a replication of Caster in an artificial state, fighting an insane war to obtain a mystical item that turns the winner’s ultimate wish into reality. But although Hannibal is normally patient, disobedience from a subordinate is one of his deadliest poisons. And because of that, he raised his voice, protesting against Caster’s cheap pride. “What pride, you have already been weathered down into this shameful state and you still have the gall to talk about personal pride? Yes, I realize that heroic spirits all have distinctive alignment and strict, moral conducts but that’s not going to help you win this barbaric war.”
Even though he knew that he was flirting with death, Hannibal took an extra step and retrieved a pet-collar from his personal cabinet nearby and approached Caster once more, leashing her into a dazzling silver chain. Then, stepping back with an arctic smile unfolding on his lips, Hannibal pointed his finger at Caster and clearly stated his demand, “Caster, I command you to submit your pride and obey my wishes.”
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Post by Taena Travies on Feb 6, 2010 22:55:18 GMT -5
Caster's eyes widened as she felt a collar around her neck, a green glow in her eyes as she prepared to simply smite the man before attempting to reeducate him on his foolishness as she stopped, the command seal fading from the triple markings on his hand. As she gaped in shock, her eyes faded of the green light, and her body pushed forward, the silver chain dangling and wavering at the quick movement, as the Servant's lips would press against Hannibal's, a smirk riding with the brief kiss, Caster stepping back with that wry smile as she lifted a hand dismissively.
"Mm, interesting actions. Most masters would get angry and make such a statement, but wait until I was compliant before butting a collar on me. Idiotic actions, but amazing power... you won't be able to ever really control me, Master. Command spells are not all powerful, and for such a vague and troublesome magic to work, you need to be very specific about what you want... or else you get this result. You wasted a command spell... Although, I do feel like it would be dishonorable to waste it... to ignore your wishes... And I don't particularly mind them. The extra prana from your true wished would be useful, and the process of obtaining it is really fun."
Caster grinned, placing a hand to her side as she used her free hand to twirl a finger through the silver chain now binding her. The outrage from before had faded, simple... amusement in it's place. The morality the personality, all the same. The command spell may have done more than she thought, but at it's best the only thing it had done was affect her desires. The woman at it's heart was unchanged, she was still a King, the Overlord of all Creation.
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Post by Hannibal Atrocious on Feb 7, 2010 20:59:46 GMT -5
Although the development was rather unexpected, Hannibal did not feel that Caster’s ethereally brief kiss was unwelcomed or unnecessary. However, even if he wanted to refuse her sudden advance, it would have ended up a futile resistance seeing as how her alluring eyes had already ensnared him in the cruelest way possible; stimulating his sexual urges as a man and labeling the lewd acts they would engage themselves in as “a way to obtain extra prana”. Unable to turn back, Hannibal decided to give in to his vice and adorned a rather sensual expression as he tilted his chin upward, casting his focus down toward Caster’s perfectly proportioned thigh. It was quite a blessing that the power of the Holy Grail reproduced the Heroes in their most perfect shape possible, but he has yet to witness Caster’s body while she was alive to compare and contrast the two.
As his mind gradually clear away all irrelevant thoughts, Hannibal yanked at Caster’s chain, slowly pulling her into another kiss; this time, more slowly and passionately. From the sensation of the spirit’s soft skin to her alluring smell, Hannibal could hardly believe that he had the privilege to perform such tainting acts on someone the world has chosen to be a guardian figure. While their lips remained connected to one another, Hannibal led them toward the dining table where he claimed a seat on its surface, letting the flustering Caster’s face hover over his own as they continued their torrid kissing. With Caster’s body gradually inviting him to take some advances; he forced his tongue into her mouth, seeking out the same organ and inviting it for a lewd dance.
The next time, the blond summoner would break the kiss; a trail of silver could be seen connecting the two together. With minimal breathing space, Hannibal attacked Caster again, this time, moving his lips toward her defenseless neck and bite into the flesh as though he was a vampire. The biting however was careful enough that it did not injure her in the slightest. Whilst his mouth kept her upper body busy, his free hand slyly ventured down her slender back and rested at her posterior. The way Hannibal’s digits sank into the soft flesh and vigorously kneading it displayed his desire to sexually dominate his servant.
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