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Post by liz on Feb 14, 2016 1:09:30 GMT
My first mission! Well, this was also a first experience too... But I am also a team leader! how about we forget the "team" part and focus on me, the leader!. I just couldn't help but imagine myself as I'm already climbing my way up to become an Idol and the most famous servant in this place, whoever my "team" was did not matter, they would all just be mere disposable pawns to reach my goals. Now now, the mission... More like a prankster to me, this "servant" was making his way through unpunished... ugggghh!! How can you come and attempt to damage my stage without my permission?! This won't go unpunished...
"hm..." Analyzing the footage in the main room, I pretend to know what I'm doing but the truth is that I have no clear idea. Yes, there is a person and he looks like a male... in red, but that's all! -she rubs her head confused but then pretends to be smart- "Well, of course this is the act of a mysterious person in red and if we do a lock-down and split, we'll eventually get to him!" Such a great idea, but of course, not expecting the less of the prettiest Idol in Chaldea.
"If there are no other opinions or objections, let's get to it now!" -She assumed the role of the leader very seriously and her attitude was getting accustomed to it- "To avoid empty chatter and an excuse of laziness, I'll introduce myself quickly so you all do the same!" -she cleared her throat and laid her hands on her waist, letting everyone in the room know about her- "My name is Elizabeth Báthory, and I am your leader!" -she proceeded to bow down with manners as any lady of high class would do- "Let's get to work!".
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Post by La Maupin on Feb 15, 2016 8:41:18 GMT
Normally Julie might have bowed upon being prompted to introduce herself, but right now she was too busy watching the screen to bother. She was absolutely enthralled by all of this and she’d thusfar made no attempts to hide it despite all the trauma that had come along with this crook’s appearance. Of course she didn’t like that part. Nobody liked that part. And yet, had it not been as awful as it was, she might not have been as eager to join this mission…so, there was that. She liked to think that whatever little bit of “hero” there was in her was reacting to everyone’s sadness and hoping to fix it.
…Not that they would be doing much of that while this detestable little moppet was in charge. She had to wonder what criteria you had to meet before Chaldea would make you team leader. No matter.
“I am Julie D’Aubigny.” She said.
“And I wonder if maybe we’d be better off together, seeing as none of us know what we’re dealing with.”
Now she understood her role. She was to play the long-suffering adviser to this silly, spoiled little princess. Once they got into the thick of things the girl would begin to understand how utterly useless she was in the face of such an intelligent adversary. At that point, motivated by her master’s inadequacy, she would swoop in and save the day. Excellent. That would make for an interesting performance on its own, but it still needed…something. Some kind of emotional payoff for her and for the rest of Chaldea. They’d just been bombed, for goodness sake – they deserved a little bit of candy.
“Hm. You – White Indian. I think that you will be my reward for unmasking this terror. How does that sound?”
She didn’t wait for his response. Instead she nodded to herself, satisfied with her decision, and got to thinking about their target. He was stylish – she’d give him that, at least. It took a truly dastardly villain to pull off that much lace, and that much red. If he wasn’t a Frenchmen she’d be stunned. But then, he didn’t quite move like one...
This was the sort of thing that she supposed that she’d need to see up close.
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Post by Thomas Edison on Feb 15, 2016 16:10:07 GMT
Caster has learned many things in a lifetime of study. He's learned that there is no substitute for hard work. He's also learned that sometimes sticking to the basics is better than innovation for innovation's sake. He's also learned rather more esoteric things, like the fact that you can get energy off cows, or what happens to a toad when it gets struck by lightning (it just dies).But the main thing he's learned is this: bad things don't happen to Thomas Edison. It may sound like a mentality that's just asking for disaster, but the truth is, Edison went through his entire life without anything notably tragic happening to him. He may have had setbacks and failed experiments, but those are successes in their own right. All attempts were salvageable. All difficulties a lesson.The situation Caster now found himself in was... neither. Having gotten dragged into what seemed to be a criminal investigation (led by the Blood Countess herself, a fact that made him go visibly pale when she divulged it), Edison quietly wondered what he did to deserve this. Partition #387: 'Well, there was that whole acid incident at WU...'Partition #129,302: 'Never should have gotten involved with radioactivity…'Partition #547,261: 'The chair doesn’t count. The chair doesn’t count. The chair doesn’t count.'…Actually, perhaps it would be better to focus on the evidence at hand."Um, I'm Thomas. Edison. Nice to meet you, everyone." He walked over to the screen showing the camera footage. Newer than the one he invented, to be sure, but it seemed like, in being the predecessor to this technology, he had a natural affinity for it. Bothersome. Edison didn't feel comfortable being the predecessor to anything. Bringing up the footage from the time the man appeared, he played the recording on fast-forward, assigning a different image to each of the divisions that made up his mind. With any luck, one of them would find something, although it didn't help that Edison was no detective, which made it entirely possible for him to miss things."A red cloak and a mask... Maybe they should have summoned Edgar Allan Poe for this one, instead." He mused under his breath.Looking at the recordings, it seemed like the man had passed through the research division a quarter of an hour before the explosion. Was that the voice Caster had responded to earlier? …No, the times didn’t match up. He must have passed outside of the room Edison was in, however. The cameras there also seemed to be broken. If it hadn’t been for the smoke, the inventor would have noticed on his way out.The bomb itself was a simple black box. Smart. Edison could recognize and track any explosives, but he couldn’t do anything without details."It looks like he headed into the labs. I... wouldn't go there for the time being. We've been having a small pest problem." - .... --- -- .- ...
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Post by Ashwatthama on Feb 16, 2016 1:27:24 GMT
Ashwatthama wished he had brushed up on his western mythology before the explosion. He'd been meaning to get around to it, but had never really found the time to dedicate to it. No, that was an excuse. He'd never really been interested, would be more apt. Plus, it always seemed like there'd be time to do it later. Centuries of aimless existence tended to make one underestimate how quickly time flies. Regardless, it would have been appropriate to do so before now, because the ancient Indian had no doubt that whomever the mysterious assailant was, he was a western.
Only they dressed so damn gaudily.
Watching the monitors displaying the footage from before, during, and after the explosion, the Archer took his time to analyse the information displayed. He'd gotten a decent enough look around the scene of the incident earlier, and was currently spinning all the wheels in his head trying to figure out any deduction he could make from it. It was almost certain the mysterious individual was a servant; While a magi or human pulling this off was within the realm of possibility, they would have to be incredibly quick and rather good at hiding themselves to do so. And that was much easier for a servant to do than a human. Plus he'd yet to encounter a human who dressed so extravagantly. But the problem then became who?
The tall servant was jostled out of his thoughts when he picked up some reference to him. Something about him being a reward?
"...What?"
An empty, confused gaze landed on the Frenchwoman as he tried to conceive some sort of response. What in the world was she on about? How could a person be a reward? Why would she even need a reward for doing something as noble as bringing a heinous criminal to justice? By the time he managed to muster up the will to retort, the conversation moved along, as the next member introduced themselves and brought in their input. Right, best to just move along then. He could inquire about the details to what on earth she meant later.
"Ah, right. I'm known as Ashwatthama, a pleasure to be working with you all."
His gaze settled on a screen displaying where the criminal fled, following the comment given by Edison about the labs.
"If we need to pursue him into the labs, I am confident in my ability to handle the... pests."
Granted, Ashwatthama only vaguely knew about the outbreak that had occurred mere moments before the explosion, and the real nature of the pest that had been released. But it was hard to imagine such an insignificant type of creature could pose a real threat to him. His still somewhat sore arm ached a bit as he thought that, wincing as he slapped himself mentally. Okay, maybe he shouldn't be quite so arrogant about his pest control abilities.
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Post by Sir Lancelot du Lac on Feb 16, 2016 15:00:18 GMT
The rest of the group had arrived, and were working together (admittedly a little dysfunctionally) but they were missing their fifth member. He was apparently running late, though what could have caused someone working on a job like this to get distracted was a mystery. This might have been considered outlandish and horrific if this was a normal human, as many people had died in that explosion. Yet, this was a servant who was running late so it was a little more understandable. Many servants needed to perform rituals before they were capable of using certain assets that they were prized for, and maybe this man was one of those. After all, it was known that he was of the Caster class, the most bizarre and wide-ranging class.
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The room that had been given to Shakespeare was a mess. There was paper scrunched up and tossed across the room, and it seemed as if the man labouring over the table was completely blind to the rest of the world. His eyes were stolidly fixed on the contents of the table, the refined works that he had created on the topic of his interest. He disliked having to be so constrained - he wanted the freedom of creativity that going off the cuff afforded him, yet it seemed that in times like this he was needed to perform a certain job.
He had, apparently, been allocated as part of the response mission to the recent attack that the base had suffered. Why? Well, to that little question he frankly had no idea. It was not exactly his area of expertise. You want someone to chronicle the adventures of a great knight through the burning Fuyuki? He could be there, and his stories would make a regular mission statement cry out of jealous shame. But this? This was detective work.... still, it seemed that Sir Doyle's Sherlock stories sold well in this day and age, so perhaps he should work his next tale to that market? the story of a murderous lunatic and the forces that aimed to prevent him before he struck again. Yes... that would make a fantastic piece.
"Uh... Caster, sir?" A timid voice called through the door. Such timidity would surely only come from a master, and thus not someone worth his time. After all, only the strongest of the masters were worthy of being protagonists, this timid cub was little more than a supporting role.
"Caster... the mission's started already."
Oh... Blast it!
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The door was slammed open dramatically as the gentleman walked into the room. He was untidy yet still somehow posh, with an air not unlike Julie's own. Or... no, it was somehow even more theatrical.
"Ah, it appears that Homer has been tasked with joining the Iliad - Your chronicler has arrived, fear not my friends. Though, I must apologize for my tardiness. I was busy procuring a little tool to assist with your search for this miscreant."
For a moment, the man dug inside his coat, clearly checking for something small enough to fit in his pockets. What this could be was unclear - from his appearance and the fact that he was addressed as "caster" on the mission briefing, it was clear that he was no warrior. But could this perhaps be some legendary potion that would invigorate their strength? Some rune-stone that would allow them to scry across the world and see where this bandit was at this very moment? No. As it turned out, what he pulled out was much... weirder.
From inside his bag, he pulled out a rope. A rope, apparently, made of hemp and nothing else. Yet, anyone who could even slightly detect magic would be able to tell that this ordinary length of rope was endowed with unbelievable magic strength. It would be strong enough to restrain this crook rather than forcing them to rely on killing him - this way, Shakespeare figured, they would be able to question him. He might even be able to get something worth mentioning in the tale this would inspire. Some terrible grudge or horrific passionate longing?
Tossing it over to the only responsible looking person - the pink haired beauty across the room, he stuffed his hands inside his trouser pockets and allowed his face to focus on the screen that everyone else seemed so entranced with. It was focused on the door to the labs, and though Shakespeare lacked the context he was smart enough to be able to pick up the implications of this. He had escaped through there?
"Though this be madness, there be method in 't. This vagabond must be attempting to lure us in, for someone careful enough to disguise his features would not be foolish enough to allow his escape to be known so openly. I know not how these machines work, but it seems so easy to blind our mechanical watchers. Whatever the next stage of this barbarian bomber's plan is, it will take place within that den."
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Post by liz on Feb 24, 2016 11:27:15 GMT
I took my time to address myself and even to try and be nice to the lowest kind of "people" such as these and they dare ignore it? Fine! They'll miss the best of me then. -she glanced over Julie, quite the figure and the type of girl for her, then over the man she was addressing as her "reward"- "...Disgusting" Just why in the world do I have to work with men? Can't I have an only girls team? Seriously...
"..." -She also couldn't help but overhear Edison's remark- "The labs eh? Perfect then! I'll find this criminal, kill him and appear as the heroine! Such a great idea!" -Her gazed returned to her team, the last caster who arrived however could bore her to death so easily that she decided to ignore him- "Okaaaay! This is what we will do!, You and you!" -disrespectfully pointing at Julie and Ash together- "You two will find any access to the labs that we might not be aware of and make sure he doesn't escape if he is still around, so go now and make yourselves useful!" Haaah, ordering around again feels so good ~ Now I'm left with these... two... I think they will have to work together too and so then I'll have the spotlight all for myself!
"Now, you and you!" -referring to Edison and the caster whose name she didn't bother with asking- "You two seem capable... so stay here and inform us if anything changes!" -She smiled happily, running off on her way to the labs ignoring every possible advice that her team had for her- Very well then! Now that I am on my own I can do what I do best ~ -she materialized her spear as she hurried to the labs, her murderous intentions hardly covered- Whoever you are, I'll make sure you die slowly... -she giggled, focusing now on her first victim-
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Post by La Maupin on Mar 2, 2016 4:33:33 GMT
If nothing else she supposed that she had to admire this little thing’s spunk. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she had managed to convince herself that she did, and there was a certain art to keeping oneself delusional. You had to be quite dedicated to your own foolishness. Julie supposed that she ought to know, given that she’d done a little bit of that as well back in the day. The difference was that she had never at any point gone absolutely bonkers and murdered a bunch of her maids. That was what Elizabeth Bathory was known for, wasn’t it? Never in her life had she thought that one day she might regret having slept through the vast majority of her lessons.
She listened to the girl speak in relative silence, fighting the urge to laugh, as that wouldn’t have been very polite. Not that she was polite. Indians, however, tended to be extremely polite according to every stereotype she’d ever heard of. If she was going to bag this one then she’d need to keep her mouth under control, at least for now.
The others seemed pleasant enough. There was a blonde and a brunette in a green coat that she was sure that she should have known. Had somebody already told her? Probably. She was busy puzzling that one out when he tossed her what appeared to be a magical rope. All at once, her whole face lit up.
“Ah, this is lovely!” She exclaimed.
“Thank you very much, darling. We will put it to good use.”
They would certainly get along. For now though, she supposed that she and White Indian would need to go along with the little one’s plan. Mostly because it sounded like a decent enough place to start. And so, they could do it – they wouldn’t necessarily need to worry about where she was, and what she was doing.
Turning back to him, she said;
“You heard the lady. Come along.”
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Post by Ashwatthama on Mar 18, 2016 1:57:34 GMT
[OOC: Skipping Edison as it's been a while past the normal 8 day limit. Not trying to step on toes however, so if Edison would like to post later in the posting order or gets back somewhat soon and would like me to delete this so he can go as scheduled, that's totally fine by me.]
Ashwatthama was a calm individual. These days, anyway. Not so much in his youth. He'd taken a very, very long time to work out all his unresolved anger and inadequacy issues, and learned to at least act like the wise and sagely Brahmin like his father had been. That said though, he was about ready to strangle a bitch at the blatant disrespect and callous attitude of the one who had taken the mantle of "leader" on for herself. She seemed to be treating this entire mess as a joke, which was completely unacceptable in the wake of the lives that had been lost to it. Even worse, she seemed inept, handing out orders with a wave of the hand as if concocting some master plan, when in reality she seemed more concerned with her own ego and unconstrained bloodlust than actually catching the criminal.
"I think it's safe to say that you should follow your own judgment as to the best course of action."
The Indian spoke to nobody in particular, but glanced sidelong at the inventor and the playwright as he mentioned it. At most, one of them needed to stay and inform them of any potential changes, assigning two servants to the task was a ridiculous waste of resources. Not that either seemed like they'd be much help in a real fight, but they clearly had some potential or they wouldn't be heroic spirits, so they could surprise him. And besides, they clearly had better insight into the machinations and plans of the target than either himself or Julie, or their leader for that matter. Their insight would be more valuable if they had access to the same information the rest of them did, in the miscreant's den itself. Well, alleged den.
That said, at least one part of her plan seemed to make sense.
"After you."
He beckoned to the french woman who seemed intent on dragging him along with her, for reasons he couldn't understand. Although not quite sure the reason for the odd way she looked at him, she did seem the most reliable other person here in a fight, if only because she was the only other Knight class that wasn't insufferable. In that sense, he didn't mind accompanying her to the recent location of their target. Plus, she had the rope, which he could only assume, and hope, was meant for catching the villain. So he'd play along with the little lancer's plan and run along with Julie, but he had no intention of just waiting at the exits.
After all, Elizabeth would probably just get herself killed if she tried to confront the servant alone, or at the very least fail to capture the slippery bastard.
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