Post by Fujibayashi Ryou on May 16, 2011 16:24:57 GMT -6
So, yeah, it looks like in the other board where Saska is admin, Magus Wars *points to the side affiliates* I just couldn't enter Orpheus as a Berserker Servant.
This is a bit of a tantrum, so please bear with me. I just want people to see him, before he dies unto oblivion. XD Perhaps Cuddly Jerk-san would even see him here, if he comes around and inputs a little more unto Sunohara... I had wanted to actually participate in a board where Kuku-chan was AL, but besides that, maybe I hadn't liked MW that much... well, but mostly this is a tantrum.
Heroic Spirit Name: Orpheus
Age of Appearance: 20
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Mad (True Neutral)
Class: Berserker
Master: None yet...
Face Claim: //fuu~
Appearance:
He stands around five feet and eight and a half inches, and has a rather light build.
His stature and appearance, at first glance, is far from oppressive, and one could almost assume that the person standing before them is just a frail musician. Still, as with most Servants, appearances can be very deceiving. His face seems to have on it carved a sad smile, his lavender-white hair only very slightly ordered, his pallid skin giving off an eerie air. His eyes are a dull red, though this might be from being a Berserker. Even when running, he appears to be walking slowly, effortlessly, like a phantom.
His clothes hide scars where his body was once torn apart. They are clothes of an entertainer’s, comfortable and attractive, carrying the same hue as his hair and his skin, making one think of them as his hide. Underneath is a simple armor designed to be concealed under clothes, gifts from the Argonauts, although they do not fare well against brutal enemies. He carries his golden lyre on his back, it being attached with a yellow strap that hangs from his left shoulder to his right hip.
Still, one can only say to have truly faced the totality of him, if one is able to hear him sing. In his song he reveals just why he is fit for the class of Berserker; the thin man-child reveals in his voice and in his strumming just how much of a monster he truly is. His music is madness itself, made audible even to those who cannot hear; moving and damning at the same time are his sounds and rhythms.
Personality:
There is not much of his personality that one can tell from Berserker’s actions. Like most of his class, he is obedient, silent, apathetic, until his master orders him so; it could be said that his current state lacks anything that can be called a personality altogether.
In his legends he was an expressive and emotional young man, who loved wholeheartedly, whether it was his audience, his craft, his patron, the God Apollo, or his wife, Eurydice. Love was his focal point; in truth, he cared not much for the state of the world, of other gods, of other people, except those that he held near his heart, in one time, another, or forever. The tragedy of his story would have probably left him with a bitter, melancholic demeanor, though the only sign of this is the mild, fatalistic smile that is permanently etched upon his lips.
Still, certain things can be scrutinized if one observes carefully. The Servant is quick to shield its master from death; from its instinctive actions, if one were to let it go about its way, one can almost say that it wants to die. In battle, his face goes through many pained expressions, as he sings his dirges, and there is a glint of hatred dancing along those glassy red eyes. He is one who is bereaved, and even in his madness he continues to be so. If he could speak, he had his sanity, he would probably want to find a way to erase his legend, to be removed from the Throne of Heroes. Even if there is no Grail, as a Servant, his wish remains; to be forgotten, that he may be reunited in oblivion with the one he had failed to bring back.
History:
Orpheus was, first and foremost, a musician. Born of the muse Calliope, it was evident from an early age just how brilliant was his talent, and how even more brilliant was his potential. It was his love, his art, and even until he finally slept in his grave, his severed head kept singing.
It was Apollo, the god of the arts, who gave him his first lyre. He gave him even greater gifts after that; the power to see the future, and the power of music. He became greater and greater in skill that soon his songs were no longer simply things to move the heart, and then to be forgotten. They became capable of making lasting marks, of being magical. Even as the witches and hermits pored over the secrets of the divine and the universe, the ability to twist reality was given upon his voice, always clear, and his tireless fingers, strumming.
He soon became famous, and crowds would gather even as he traveled from place to place, to hear him speak and sing and tell stories. They would say that even hearing a single note from his lyre, or a single word from his lips, was a vision unparalleled in beauty. He foretold things of good and evil, and sometimes, he even felt that he had thwarted fate. Other heroes came to know of his abilities. He was even invited in Jason’s voyage for the Golden Fleece, staying the Sirens with a more vibrant song than they could muster.
Still, it was not as if Orpheus wished for all of this. He was, simply, a musician. He was content to be like that, and if not for the responsibility of the gifts assigned to him, he would have, probably, been at peace.
Then he met Eurydice. She was a nymph, and while she was beautiful, some would say that Orpheus could charm queens with more power and maidens far lovelier. But to Orpheus she was the loveliest, and he wooed her, not with song, but with silence, with actions; for he felt that to do otherwise would be cheating. It took a while, but in the end, they were to be wed, and Orpheus allowed his love to spill forth from his music, that day of their binding. He did not know-- perhaps the Fates had hid it from his oracle-- that it would be the day of tragedy.
Even as the celebration flourished and bloomed, a satyr set upon the bride, ruining the joyous occasion. Running, Eurydice went through grass and fen, until the satyr could no longer reach her. But then, as she paused to rest, a poisonous snake bit her heel, killing her. The poison had done its job thoroughly, when, too late, Orpheus and his comrades found her frigid body. Orpheus was devastated. For weeks, he would not eat, nor drink, nor touch his lyre nor utter a word. It almost looked like he would kill himself.
Then, one day, he sang. He sang all manner of songs of weeping and mourning. He spoke of tragedies and despair, of pain and darkness, and no matter how one would want to dismiss his poems and his melodies, one cannot help but listen. The forest spirits, the dwellers of the rivers, all who had ears had no choice but to heed, to feel his sorrow. He went as if he would go unstopping, until some of them convinced him to try to get an audience with the god of the underworld, Hades.
So it was that he sang, and the earth itself opened, winding down to the hovel of the dead. It was song that he paid Charon to ferry him across the pale river. It was song that he offered Hades and Persephone, pleading, asking, that he be reunited with his wife, by any means necessary. He was ready, even to die. But Hades offered something far greater, he himself moved by the song of the bereaved. He would give back Eurydice from the dead, as long as Orpheus made his way back up to the underworld-- Eurydice following him-- as long as he went back to the world of the living, without looking back at she who was supposed to be deceased. He agreed.
He persevered, moving further and further upward, the tunnel that the earth itself had carved for him. His heart ached to see the phantom that was following him, if it was his beloved. He had no other way of knowing, and as he set foot unto the daylight, he turned to see who had been walking with him. It was indeed Euridice... and the nether dragged her back, for they were not yet both in the world of mortals.
If before he was devastated, with that, he was broken. He stood still there, watching the earth close. Still, he did not give up. He tried again, but these time those enchanted under the underworld, though they still felt his sorrow, were powerless to do anything. The lord of the underworld would not hear him, would not even see him. With his attempts futile, he returned alone to the surface.
It was slow and painful, but he went mad. He took to being alone in the forests, playing the same songs again and again, having the dryads and naiads as fellow mourners. His madness was not like others', in that it destroyed, brazenly and freely. His madness, rather, wilted and grayed those who heard it.
So it came that Dionysus, the god of madness, was scorned by him, and he set his Maenads to kill him. First the raving women threw stones and branches at him, but they did not wish to hurt the unmindful musician, and so they stopped and fell in mid-air. The attackers were not to be deterred, however, and set upon Orpheus, tearing him with their bare hands. And so it was that he died.
His severed head fell unto a river, still singing and prophesying, until it came to the shore of the ocean, where nymphs found it and buried it, and made a shrine upon its grave-- his grave. Orpheus, even unto insanity, even unto death, was a musician.
Battle Info
Class Skills:
~ Mad Enhancement :: Rank up for all parameters except Strength and Endurance, but in exchange one can no longer think or speak properly.
Personal Skills:
~ Inspiration :: Mastery of the arts are retained even under mental hindrance. One does not need the mind, only the heart and the spirit.
~ Mystic Song :: A spell inherent of one’s voice and music. It has reached the level where it could be said to persuade gods. One can charm even the deaf and the inanimate. Persons and objects can be forced to do things against their will. However, under the effect of Mad Enhancement, this can only cause destruction, and the rawness of the emotion involved weakens its effect against those who suffer from Mental Pollution. It is weakened, but not completely nullified, by Magic Resistance.
~ Clairvoyance :: One can see into the future. Orpheus was, besides a musician, an oracle during his lifetime. Due to mental hindrances, its effect has been reduced to something akin to a sixth sense, similar to the skill Instinct.
~ Divinity :: Some legends say that Orpheus was the son of the god Apollo, although other records say otherwise. In any case, Orpheus was very much in the favor of Apollo, although the same cannot be said for the other gods of the Greek pantheon, and so this skill is weakened.
Noble Phantasms:
~ Lyra :: Support :: The lyre of Orpheus, said to be from Apollo himself, his sign among the stars. Using it, instead of just singing to do Mystic Song, amplifies the effect, allowing to degrade the magical and mental resistances of those who hear.
~ Hellgate :: Anti-Fortress :: The symbol of Orpheus’ journey to the underworld. When activated, it opens a portal into the Abyss. Defensively, it can be used to swallow the attacks of other Noble Phantasms. It gives off an aura of death, leeching life upon all in front of it, contorting structures and objects in the place of its summoning, and pulling them with great force. It can be kept open for fifty seconds. Berserker has to maintain it, and so he cannot take any other actions during the Phantasm’s duration. If he should be attacked while doing so, the Hellgate will close. As it is an active Noble Phantasm, Berserker requires his Master to order him with a Command Seal to be able to use this. Otherwise, it is effectively sealed.
This is a bit of a tantrum, so please bear with me. I just want people to see him, before he dies unto oblivion. XD Perhaps Cuddly Jerk-san would even see him here, if he comes around and inputs a little more unto Sunohara... I had wanted to actually participate in a board where Kuku-chan was AL, but besides that, maybe I hadn't liked MW that much... well, but mostly this is a tantrum.
Servant
//picture should be here
//picture should be here
Heroic Spirit Name: Orpheus
Age of Appearance: 20
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral Mad (True Neutral)
Class: Berserker
Master: None yet...
Face Claim: //fuu~
Appearance:
He stands around five feet and eight and a half inches, and has a rather light build.
His stature and appearance, at first glance, is far from oppressive, and one could almost assume that the person standing before them is just a frail musician. Still, as with most Servants, appearances can be very deceiving. His face seems to have on it carved a sad smile, his lavender-white hair only very slightly ordered, his pallid skin giving off an eerie air. His eyes are a dull red, though this might be from being a Berserker. Even when running, he appears to be walking slowly, effortlessly, like a phantom.
His clothes hide scars where his body was once torn apart. They are clothes of an entertainer’s, comfortable and attractive, carrying the same hue as his hair and his skin, making one think of them as his hide. Underneath is a simple armor designed to be concealed under clothes, gifts from the Argonauts, although they do not fare well against brutal enemies. He carries his golden lyre on his back, it being attached with a yellow strap that hangs from his left shoulder to his right hip.
Still, one can only say to have truly faced the totality of him, if one is able to hear him sing. In his song he reveals just why he is fit for the class of Berserker; the thin man-child reveals in his voice and in his strumming just how much of a monster he truly is. His music is madness itself, made audible even to those who cannot hear; moving and damning at the same time are his sounds and rhythms.
Personality:
There is not much of his personality that one can tell from Berserker’s actions. Like most of his class, he is obedient, silent, apathetic, until his master orders him so; it could be said that his current state lacks anything that can be called a personality altogether.
In his legends he was an expressive and emotional young man, who loved wholeheartedly, whether it was his audience, his craft, his patron, the God Apollo, or his wife, Eurydice. Love was his focal point; in truth, he cared not much for the state of the world, of other gods, of other people, except those that he held near his heart, in one time, another, or forever. The tragedy of his story would have probably left him with a bitter, melancholic demeanor, though the only sign of this is the mild, fatalistic smile that is permanently etched upon his lips.
Still, certain things can be scrutinized if one observes carefully. The Servant is quick to shield its master from death; from its instinctive actions, if one were to let it go about its way, one can almost say that it wants to die. In battle, his face goes through many pained expressions, as he sings his dirges, and there is a glint of hatred dancing along those glassy red eyes. He is one who is bereaved, and even in his madness he continues to be so. If he could speak, he had his sanity, he would probably want to find a way to erase his legend, to be removed from the Throne of Heroes. Even if there is no Grail, as a Servant, his wish remains; to be forgotten, that he may be reunited in oblivion with the one he had failed to bring back.
History:
Orpheus was, first and foremost, a musician. Born of the muse Calliope, it was evident from an early age just how brilliant was his talent, and how even more brilliant was his potential. It was his love, his art, and even until he finally slept in his grave, his severed head kept singing.
It was Apollo, the god of the arts, who gave him his first lyre. He gave him even greater gifts after that; the power to see the future, and the power of music. He became greater and greater in skill that soon his songs were no longer simply things to move the heart, and then to be forgotten. They became capable of making lasting marks, of being magical. Even as the witches and hermits pored over the secrets of the divine and the universe, the ability to twist reality was given upon his voice, always clear, and his tireless fingers, strumming.
He soon became famous, and crowds would gather even as he traveled from place to place, to hear him speak and sing and tell stories. They would say that even hearing a single note from his lyre, or a single word from his lips, was a vision unparalleled in beauty. He foretold things of good and evil, and sometimes, he even felt that he had thwarted fate. Other heroes came to know of his abilities. He was even invited in Jason’s voyage for the Golden Fleece, staying the Sirens with a more vibrant song than they could muster.
Still, it was not as if Orpheus wished for all of this. He was, simply, a musician. He was content to be like that, and if not for the responsibility of the gifts assigned to him, he would have, probably, been at peace.
Then he met Eurydice. She was a nymph, and while she was beautiful, some would say that Orpheus could charm queens with more power and maidens far lovelier. But to Orpheus she was the loveliest, and he wooed her, not with song, but with silence, with actions; for he felt that to do otherwise would be cheating. It took a while, but in the end, they were to be wed, and Orpheus allowed his love to spill forth from his music, that day of their binding. He did not know-- perhaps the Fates had hid it from his oracle-- that it would be the day of tragedy.
Even as the celebration flourished and bloomed, a satyr set upon the bride, ruining the joyous occasion. Running, Eurydice went through grass and fen, until the satyr could no longer reach her. But then, as she paused to rest, a poisonous snake bit her heel, killing her. The poison had done its job thoroughly, when, too late, Orpheus and his comrades found her frigid body. Orpheus was devastated. For weeks, he would not eat, nor drink, nor touch his lyre nor utter a word. It almost looked like he would kill himself.
Then, one day, he sang. He sang all manner of songs of weeping and mourning. He spoke of tragedies and despair, of pain and darkness, and no matter how one would want to dismiss his poems and his melodies, one cannot help but listen. The forest spirits, the dwellers of the rivers, all who had ears had no choice but to heed, to feel his sorrow. He went as if he would go unstopping, until some of them convinced him to try to get an audience with the god of the underworld, Hades.
So it was that he sang, and the earth itself opened, winding down to the hovel of the dead. It was song that he paid Charon to ferry him across the pale river. It was song that he offered Hades and Persephone, pleading, asking, that he be reunited with his wife, by any means necessary. He was ready, even to die. But Hades offered something far greater, he himself moved by the song of the bereaved. He would give back Eurydice from the dead, as long as Orpheus made his way back up to the underworld-- Eurydice following him-- as long as he went back to the world of the living, without looking back at she who was supposed to be deceased. He agreed.
He persevered, moving further and further upward, the tunnel that the earth itself had carved for him. His heart ached to see the phantom that was following him, if it was his beloved. He had no other way of knowing, and as he set foot unto the daylight, he turned to see who had been walking with him. It was indeed Euridice... and the nether dragged her back, for they were not yet both in the world of mortals.
If before he was devastated, with that, he was broken. He stood still there, watching the earth close. Still, he did not give up. He tried again, but these time those enchanted under the underworld, though they still felt his sorrow, were powerless to do anything. The lord of the underworld would not hear him, would not even see him. With his attempts futile, he returned alone to the surface.
It was slow and painful, but he went mad. He took to being alone in the forests, playing the same songs again and again, having the dryads and naiads as fellow mourners. His madness was not like others', in that it destroyed, brazenly and freely. His madness, rather, wilted and grayed those who heard it.
So it came that Dionysus, the god of madness, was scorned by him, and he set his Maenads to kill him. First the raving women threw stones and branches at him, but they did not wish to hurt the unmindful musician, and so they stopped and fell in mid-air. The attackers were not to be deterred, however, and set upon Orpheus, tearing him with their bare hands. And so it was that he died.
His severed head fell unto a river, still singing and prophesying, until it came to the shore of the ocean, where nymphs found it and buried it, and made a shrine upon its grave-- his grave. Orpheus, even unto insanity, even unto death, was a musician.
Battle Info
Class Skills:
~ Mad Enhancement :: Rank up for all parameters except Strength and Endurance, but in exchange one can no longer think or speak properly.
Personal Skills:
~ Inspiration :: Mastery of the arts are retained even under mental hindrance. One does not need the mind, only the heart and the spirit.
~ Mystic Song :: A spell inherent of one’s voice and music. It has reached the level where it could be said to persuade gods. One can charm even the deaf and the inanimate. Persons and objects can be forced to do things against their will. However, under the effect of Mad Enhancement, this can only cause destruction, and the rawness of the emotion involved weakens its effect against those who suffer from Mental Pollution. It is weakened, but not completely nullified, by Magic Resistance.
~ Clairvoyance :: One can see into the future. Orpheus was, besides a musician, an oracle during his lifetime. Due to mental hindrances, its effect has been reduced to something akin to a sixth sense, similar to the skill Instinct.
~ Divinity :: Some legends say that Orpheus was the son of the god Apollo, although other records say otherwise. In any case, Orpheus was very much in the favor of Apollo, although the same cannot be said for the other gods of the Greek pantheon, and so this skill is weakened.
Noble Phantasms:
~ Lyra :: Support :: The lyre of Orpheus, said to be from Apollo himself, his sign among the stars. Using it, instead of just singing to do Mystic Song, amplifies the effect, allowing to degrade the magical and mental resistances of those who hear.
~ Hellgate :: Anti-Fortress :: The symbol of Orpheus’ journey to the underworld. When activated, it opens a portal into the Abyss. Defensively, it can be used to swallow the attacks of other Noble Phantasms. It gives off an aura of death, leeching life upon all in front of it, contorting structures and objects in the place of its summoning, and pulling them with great force. It can be kept open for fifty seconds. Berserker has to maintain it, and so he cannot take any other actions during the Phantasm’s duration. If he should be attacked while doing so, the Hellgate will close. As it is an active Noble Phantasm, Berserker requires his Master to order him with a Command Seal to be able to use this. Otherwise, it is effectively sealed.