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Messages - Mooncake

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31
Ezra Longinia


Ezra stared blankly at the icy mist creeping past the edge of the building. A third person had entered the fray, and power attracted power... if more showed up, he'd have to make the choice of running away again, or entering himself. Either way, he should make preparations-

“It seems children these days can’t be calm. Truly there is no hope for society.” Then he turned to look at the man his Soul Horrors pointed out. “You come and join us young man, it is impolite to hide yourself like that. Don’t make me force you to give a proper greeting.”

It seemed that now, he really didn't have a choice. Staring at his right hand again, Ezra quietly held it out in front of him and squeezed, hard enough to draw a drop of blood.

O Lance
O Lónchi̱,
O great, sorrowful Lance
O megálos, thliverá Lónchi̱

"Wake the fuck up."

Breaking off the chant, the divine Spear growing into life in a single instant, Ezra swung and cut through the familiars the third person had summoned. Calmly walking around the edge of the building, Ezra looked to see the swordsman and the Apostle trapped in ice, with an an armored figure off to the side.

He greeted the armored thing radiating menace, even as his grip tightened on the Lance. Depending on how things went from here, he might not make it out alive.

...I've already accepted it. There's no point to running away from fate.

"Is this enough of a proper greeting for you?"

32
Ezra Longinia


Ezra waited, clenching and unclenching the muscles of his right hand. The lance-bearer was quietly resting against the edge of the building, just out of range of the Dead Apostle and the wandering swordsman.

He didn't want to trigger the curse by being a bystander - he had been tracking the monster for some time now, but the intervention of the swordsman had changed things.

Ezra stared at his right hand again as he listened to the Dead Apostle open the battle. It would be a simple thing to join in, if he had been someone else. He could have jumped in, scouted, then disengaged and lured the vampire to its death.

That was where the swordsman came in, and made things more complicated. They'd started the battle, and he wouldn't be allowed to leave if he didn't take both of them down. Ezra grimaced, and leaned back, carefully listening with even breaths. When the moment came, if the Apostle was the victor, he'd take the initiative and go for the kill.

33
War raised his eyebrow at his sister, interested in what her words held.

"I am afraid I cannot offer much to that, Sister. Humanity desires neither of us, and I... I suppose I do not desire them much, though I do not hate them."

He casually reached over to his sister's head, pulling down his hat with a vague snort of amusement. "I have observed it for some time, now. Walking through the streets has been enough to see the results. Eventually, it will go up in flames, one way or another. And then, of course, from the ashes life springs anew."

He wasn't paying as much attention to what he said on the surface level as he was to what was only heard between them. He... the being of flame and shadow was stricken before his sister, unable to answer with truth more plain than this.

"...I do not know."

He paused, because that was not all that there was to say.

"...At the very least, I believe that she loved me."

34
Ezra waved a hand at the smaller woman. The knight in black armor had appeared out of nowhere, dragging the strangely tanned boy behind him, and Ezra could tell right off of the bat that this was something he didn't want to get involved in.

"It's fine, I completely understand."

Judging by her expression, things might might get a little too personal for him if he stayed. The lance-bearer sighed. He'd been doing that a lot more often, now, especially with a woman who looked remarkably like his wife taking it from another man, Death herself almost getting it on with some random redhead... at this point, he just wasn't sure what to think anymore.

The last member of the line of Longinus threw his hands in the air and went over to the armchair.

'They can do whatever they want,' He thought to himself, an almost unnoticeable tinge of jealousy in his thoughts. 'I'll sleep while they break down the room.' With that, Ezra sat down, tilted back, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the yelps Misaya was letting out on the bed.

35
Ezra let out a nervous laugh. "Ahaha, yeah, let's go that... way..." He stared at the sight before him, of a bed conveniently sized for two, before shaking his head and staring again. The bed that hadn't been there before hadn't moved. Casting his eyes around for an alternative, the lance-bearer's eyes lighted on a chair and a footrest.

He turned back to Saber and pointed over to the set. "How about over there?"


------


War silently regarded his sister and listened to her tale, the fire rising and falling as it unraveled. She was certainly more relaxed than what he knew, what he had been born knowing.

"Very few ask for me as well, Sister. We are the same in that... though there are always those that revel in us."

With a swift motion his sister pulled off her hood and grabbed his own hat, placing it on her head in a slightly mocking gesture. He chuckled at her words, multicolored eyes staring into her own gray ones. "It is true. I could not truly exist without you to give me weight. As for the girl... she is with you, Sister. She embraced you long ago. But, if you truly want to know, it began some time ago."

He shifted in his seat, staring at his sister with level eyes. In truth, he preferred this form to her true one, though his own was not nearly as well kept as his human shell. "She did not feel me, no matter what I tried. She was not affected by me, could not be touched by me... eventually, she simply followed me. To every field, every plains, every burning town and unexpected raid that she could reach, she followed. Eventually, she truly met me, and I allowed her to stay by my side until she could no longer walk with me," His eyes were clouded, remembering days long past. "And that was that."

He inclined his head towards his sister, bemused at her existence in this space.

"I am surprised that you know them well enough to desire them - at least, as they understand it."

36
Lucas scowled at Forest. "I don't know what it is you speak of. Go and play with all your friends, vampire - oh wait." Springing back to the edge of the room, Lucas stomped his foot on the ground, vines growing out of it rapidly. Muttering under his breath, the plants grew rapidly until the elemental was hidden from sight.

Ezra looked over to the sight and frowned. Just from seeing the redhead at work, he'd gotten a good sense of the seemingly younger man. 'Looks like a leopard can't change his spots.' Snapping back to attention at Saber's response, Ezra awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

"I thought as much. Anyways, seems like this place is going to get pretty, uh," He swallowed nervously as Misaya plainly sat on Law's face with a wicked grin, her red dress hiding his head from sight. "Pretty hot, so..."

The spearman looked at Saber. "Mind if we move away a little? It's hard to talk when they go at it like that."


-------


"I am not one to join in such things, Older Sister. Even if the lines between war and sex can sometimes blur, I have not thought of it."

He propped his cheek on one hand, his shifting eyes watching as his sister changed her dress back to her long, flowing robes. The fire was snuffed out just from her presence, but his own smile rekindled it - just a touch.

"I stayed with that one human girl for quite some time... though perhaps, due to the nature of this place, our perceptions differ slightly. What of you, sister?" The fire  began to quietly crackle, painting the extension of the room with a dim, warm light.

"How have you kept yourself busy with them? Those humans that burned so bright for so long."

37
Lucas let out a noise like an angry cat as he was roughly thrown through the air, his body automatically twisting in order to land until - surprise - the naked redhead landed in the arms of Forest. It took only a second for him to spring from her arms like greased lightning and land on the floor in a solid crouch.

He scowled at Forest as he stood to his admittedly short full height. "She was not 'pissed off' to my knowledge, vampire." For some reason, the blonde woman irritated him; maybe because he had just been thoroughly refused by Death herself. Either way, the elemental realized he was becoming someone in a dangerous situation, a naked man in a room that amplified sexual desire.

In the meantime, Ezra shook Saber's hand carefully, the Lance somehow having reappeared in his grasp. "Yeah, we haven't met. I'm Ezra, nice to meet you. I hear you do good work around the city." He shook his head, trying not to focus on the events around him.

"So, uh, you got any idea if we can leave or not?" He asked, pointedly ignoring Law and Misaya.


----------


The armchair that Ezra had previously sat in was still warm. It had kept its warmth when Ezra had left, had kept its warmth as the fire died down; and then, as the fire burst back into life, it was filled. What sat in it was not a man, even though it took the shape of one.

No, it was fire itself, and blood, and steel, and pain. It was all of those things and more. Its name was War, and it regarded the girl reclining lazily on the floor with some trepidation. It - he - wasn't quite sure how to deal with this sort of thing.

"...Hello, Sister."

38
'Oh shit' thought the lance-bearer.

'I'm surrounded by perverts.'

Ezra looked to his left, where he saw the elemental and the... the young girl getting even more heated. He looked to his right and saw a maid - well, even if her outfit was a little high-cut, it was good enough for him. The spearman took his only line of escape and sidled over to the blonde maid, the last bastion of normality.

"I've heard of you - Saber, right?"

As Ezra tried to escape the situation, Lucas plunged right into it. Something like human shame wasn't known to him, because he was not human to begin with. As his clothes rotted away thanks to Ann's powers, the elemental prepared for the toughest battle in his long, long life.

His hands slammed down on either side of Ann, cutting off any attempt that she might have made to escape - not that either of them were expecting it. In response to her question, the elemental paused, the momentum he had been building suddenly slowing.

"I... don't actually know." His golden eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do they usually do at this point?"

39
Lucas's eyes narrowed, drawing his face together until he suddenly grinned like the devil himself. "Alright then," The elemental said, his voice as raspy as ever. "I won't get away. Instead, I'll move right through you." In the next instant, Lucas had tightened his hold on Ann and used his monstrous strength to reverse their positions.

His eyes were burning as the redhead beheld Ann... it was clear he wasn't accustomed to any of this. "How does it feel to be on the bottom, false woman?"

In the meantime, Ezra had cautiously snuck away, using his surprising powers of being ignored to slip away before the situation got to where he didn't want to interfere. He sighed to himself, having left the Lance propped against the bookshelf. I don't understand this place...

It was then that he saw her, on the bed, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. "M-Mina!?" No, even as Ezra called out the name of his wife, he saw that the girl on the bed wasn't her. For one thing, the girl had red eyes, and for another - he gulped - his wife had never oozed such raw sexuality.

40
Lucas's eyes narrowed in fury. "You-! Give that back-" His hand shot towards Ann, trying to grab at her form but only succeeding in pulling her to eye level. It was almost as if his knee-jerk reaction was fighting with his survival instinct; either way, the redhead was only able to pull Ann off-balance with his unnatural strength - strength enough to topple her onto him.

Lucas's pale cheeks were dusted with a faint crimson as he got entangled in Ann's strange robe. Even an existence like him wasn't completely unaffected by the magic of the room, though it was harder to touch him than most. "What on earth are you doing!?"

Ezra snickered in the corner, and draped a book over his eyes. "I've read enough of that japanese stuff to know where this place is going." While Lucas oddly, weakly struggled in the corner, the last member of the line of Longinus looked like he had settled in to sleep.

41
Ezra: Is it possible for you to somehow beat 30 years in age?
Ezra: ...Sadly, no. The curse itself is more like the mandate of God. The only one who could lift it would be one with the same power as Him, a power that could undo something that was created by Him... but as it stands, no. Like my father, and like his father before him, no child of my line has lived past thirty. It was hard, at first, but I understand now that there's no way to escape it.

42
Ezra shook his head in disbelief. In one moment he was lounging on an armchair in front of a fireplace in a more distinguished part of the room, one covered in bookshelves, with his Lance in hand.

The long-haired man looked around for a cigarette, his go-to in weird situations, but couldn't find any. Looking over at the figure sitting against the bookshelves, Ezra posed the question to him. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know why we're here either, would you?"

Golden eyes burned over the top of the book - Madam, Will You Talk, a popular British romance novel two hundred years ago - as Lucas glared at Ezra. Scowling the redhead looked back down at the novel, his voice drifting up to Ezra. "I don't know why you'd think I'd know, human."

Ezra let out a low whistle at his words. "So, even something like you is weak to those sorts of books, huh?" The spine of the book began to crinkle under the elemental's hands, but he kept flipping through the pages at breakneck speed.

43
Vlad Drăculea


"Very well. I did say that I would supply you or your servants with equipment and I do value politeness, so I will craft something for your butler."

Vlad raised one elegant eyebrow.

"Oh? Very well, Wiseman. Let us see what you have to offer."

The lord watched as the wizard began to work his magic, looking on intently while seemingly nonchalant. His golden eyes assessed Wiseman's magic, or at least, the parts that he understood, for Drăculea was not a specialist in such arts.

It did seem, however, that the wizard's skill was not an idle boast. He made a cane of intricate magic, ice and steel coming together to form an exquisite piece of craftsmanship. Vlad sat upon his throne and contemplated the future, and was not displeased by what potential he saw within it.

"Is this demonstration to your liking, Lord Drăculea?"

"We shall see - after all, the gift was not for me, but for my servant, no? Butler," He called into seemingly empty air. "Our guest has made a gift for you. Please, tell him what you think of it."







Lucas


Lucas's foot connected with Crest, the concentration of magic within him so dense that not even the power of Rejection could deny his existence. The sheer force within his blow sent the Crest flying straight to the entrance. At that, the woman ran, grabbing the other man and his weapon on the way out.

The resident made no move to pursue them, simply watching as their figures grew smaller before taking a sharp turn and disappearing. When they were finally gone, he scowled, and stomped his foot on the ground like a petulant child. At that, though, the store sprang to life.

The craters grew smaller and then vanished, as if they had never been there, while the cracks in the walls rapidly filled with moss and clovers. The bookshelves were covered in blankets of greenery, draping over their forms as if they had lain that way for months. The door closed shut, vines embedding itself within the frame.

The resident was not there to see it in play - no, he had already ducked into one of the side passages, one still not quite covered in greenery. Walking through the twists and turns, on floorboards not yet uprooted and replaced with soil, the pale being moved to a small bed, one without an sheets, in a room with only a single, small plant growing from the ground. He shook his head in distaste and laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

If he looked hard enough, he could almost see the forest again.







"Park now?"

Wanderer looked almost taken aback.

"...Fine. Let us be off."

His stride lengthened again as he moved towards the nearest park, PARIAH on his shoulders like a very large and awkward barnacle.

"Park now?"

44
OK, Faust is just plain ridiculous. He has a shield that Rider literally cannot break with anything short of Bellerophon (I've asked), that moves with him when he moves, doesn't need to be taken down to cast other spells and which he can allow people who he wants to pass through through. It requires no prep time and seems to have little mana cost. And it's not even mentioned on his sheet beyond a generic "he has spells" thing. It's not even his most powerful spell, either.

How is Faust not too OP? It is quite literally impossible for Rider to fight him, or just about anyone else who can't spam extremely high-powered magic or Noble Phantasms.

>Caster
>Made a deal with the Devil himself
>Still complaining about this after ~ two hours

If you're so upset, just wait for the GMs. Bdoom just revised his post, too.

45
Wanderer


The girl started screaming like a banshee, enough to disturb every human within earshot. Wanderer, unlike the rest of them, had not flinched. Instead, he studied her closely. Her reactions, the way she convulsed, her face distorted and red... he had seen these traits before. She was someone who had looked too deep and not liked what she had found.

In other words, it was time to leave. Her companion, screaming only the way a human conditioned through years of inarticulate yelling could, picked her up and ran outside. Wanderer turned to PARIAH, figuring what was about to be asked.

"She isn't edible."

His message came a little late, and PARIAH's tendril was already streaking towards the pair's defenseless backs. While Wanderer wasn't always opposed to the death of the innocent - and how could he be? - there were simply too many people here for his liking.

 At this point, there was only one thing he could do. The cowboy manifested a chain, a simple, magical thing, and swung it at Donnel and Rebeca slightly faster than PARIAH's tendril. It wrapped around them, and by pivoting, pulling with superhuman strength, Wanderer flung them down an alley as PARIAH's tendril hit the wall where the two had been.

Having accomplished that, PARIAH still on his back, Wanderer sprinted away, moving out of the area in the opposite direction.

"She was not edible, PARIAH. If you had tried, your mind would have become unstable."


---------------------


A note rang out upon the roiling sea of power within the Nexus. It was a strange signature, something obscured by great magic on the level of the Gods - but for those who held that divinity within them, there was no mistaking it.

For a single instant, there had been a great cry, filled with fire and steel and pain. For an instant, something very old had been felt within the bones of the city itself.

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