Active [frontier] When stories abound, Legends will get you.

[Speed]

Faker

Titles: Isekai [Mundane], Human [Mundane], Attentive Student [Grade E]
Class: Striker
​

Faker hadn’t paid much attention when Kain introduced himself, his mind too occupied by the tension with Edwin. But something about the way Kain said his own name sounded... off, almost distorted. "What was that?" he wondered, raising an eyebrow. Still, with the black knight in front of them, Faker couldn’t respond, too cautious of the potential confrontation brewing.

After what felt like a prolonged standoff, tensions eased slightly. Faker allowed himself to relax, though his hand never left the handle of his blade; just in case things took a sudden turn. What had started as a near clash between the others gradually shifted into a more subdued exchange of words. The oddest part of it all, however, was the sudden song that broke out. A fae, Mephisto, began to sing, and though it was unexpected, Faker figured it was just part of the village’s celebration.

“Well, this is... different,” he thought, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He didn’t quite follow the lyrics of the song but found the melody oddly pleasant. It wasn’t the time to focus on such things though; he still had to stay sharp.

His gaze drifted toward Dione, the blonde girl who had stood up to Edwin earlier. There was something in her cautious demeanor that Faker respected, a kind of wariness he himself shared. He had intended to approach her, hoping to gauge her thoughts on the strange situation they found themselves in. But just as he made up his mind to speak, everything around them shifted.

The warm glow of sunrise that had started to peek over the horizon vanished, replaced by an eerie stillness of night. For a brief moment, Faker’s vision blurred, as if the world itself was twisting. When his eyesight cleared, the festival was gone. The tables, the food, the bustling villagers; everything had disappeared, replaced by a chilling quiet. Fewer villagers were around now, and almost no adults could be seen.

Before he could even process what had happened, a scream pierced the air. Actually, two screams. One of them was his.

High-pitched and alarmingly feminine, Faker’s scream echoed alongside another. As soon as he realized what had happened, his face flushed with embarrassment. ”Please, let that other scream have been louder,” he thought as he hastily drew his blade, startled and on high alert.

"What just happened?" he shouted, hoping someone would provide answers. His eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. The festival’s disappearance was unsettling, and he didn’t like how things had suddenly shifted without warning.

His attention returned to Dione, who seemed to have been trying to take grasp of the situation. Her calm, yet guarded behavior suggested she might know more than she was letting on. Faker, his face still sprinkled with crumbs from the earlier feast, decided now was as good a time as any to seek her out.

Striding up to her with his sword still clenched in one hand, he attempted to appear more composed than he actually felt. "Care to share your thoughts?" he asked, his voice steady but curious, genuinely hoping she had some insight into what was going on.

After all, beautiful people tended to be trustworthy... right?

Interaction: Ersatra

 

[Maxxob]

Sir Edwin Stormcrest?

​

Titles
[Human - Mundane], [Noble Ryke Baronet] C, [Apprentice Lancer], Knight [Educated] Color - #0E0101

DarkKitsune Voider Mephisto Kris Rebel Ersatra Speed

The corrupted knight observed Dione with a cold, calculating gaze as she made her own stand. Begrudgingly, he had to give the woman some merit for standing tall, when others would have faltered. Yet, that reduced little the newborn, simmering desire to see her form skewered by his lance. His mind wondered about what sort of crimson hue would that canvas be painted, as the colors certainly varied, even if infinitesimally, from his own experience.

However, contrary to appearances, the baronet was lawful, taking things to its zenith exclusively when breaches were made. For now, he placed his earlier, burning wish inside his blackened heart, but not too deeply, lest it be forgotten and not acted upon if the chance ever presented itself.

Instead, he diverted his attention to Malia, as the woman began explaining what was happening in that odd and bizarre village. “Lupinvale…” He grumbled under his breath, trying to race his memory for knowledge about said place. But that failed him, the place apparently having met its grisly end many years before he was even born. “... to be bound to relieve one’s own demise. How tragic.” The dark knight’s voice was cold and detached, clearly feeling nothing for these souls’ predicament. Even someone in their tender years, such as Fione, caused no chink in his hardened heart.

“Still, to be in a race against Meldaron itself… seems like an interesting challenge.” To race fate, challenge it and force things into a finality. And, after all, the dead should remain dead. No use for weeping souls, unable to accept their own tragedy, to linger around…

Soon enough, the lancer saw himself in a different time altogether, vision become blurry and foggy for a moment, the momentarily darkened vision bringing him to full fighting stance, ready to lash out at anything that came even a few feet from him. Luckily, the loss of vision was only temporary, the dark keyholes of his helmet surveying how things had shifted in the village.

His survey of the land would end up being interrupted, two distinct screams reaching his ears, one sounding more of a finality of life, while the other of fear. One of the sources had been found readily, helmet groaning as Edwin place his sights directly on Faker. He knew, but neither said nor offered nothing about it. Still, the corner of his lips curled upwards under the horned headgear, entertaining himself on how some of them appeared to be on edge.

“That appeared to be a scream of death. Either through experience or through witnessing it.” The dark knight said in a cut and dry manner, sabatons moving against the ground, trying to follow its source. “Maybe some investigation is in order… discovery, right?” With those words, he kept moving, his crimson cape fluttering behind him slightly with each step. He was eager, fist closing shut, preying for violence.

 

[Mephisto]

Titles:

[Fae, Mundane], Text Colors: #ffcf30, #e60606

“It's Showtime!!” - 1/1, cooldown has ended

“One Hell of a Show!” - 0/1, cooldown ends soon

“We Have a Deal to Make” - 1/1, cooldown not active

| DarkKitsune | Voider | Speed | Ersatra | Kris Rebel | Maxxob |
​

---

There were indeed times when even the strange world of Mephisto’s inner machinations had to admit that he had tread too deep into black water. Uncharted and unknown, the instincts he cultivated as a caricature of chaos instead bit and gnawed against the survival mechanics inherent to someone of his station seeking the salvation of his own skin. No, not even the neurons pumping information that he could die at any second could stop him from analyzing the world around him. He wanted to know. He wanted to see, to hear, to consume.

He wanted more than just a sample drawn from pinpricks of light or echoes of noise. He kept his eyes peeled, every fiber therein twitching with crimson delight as he marveled at the swirling madness. The town burned to the ground, its inhabitants slaughtered to the last, just like what happened to lock the ghosts within a paradox of pain and suffering. The wailing phantoms were long dead. The bones laid in shallow, makeshift windswept graves were more than just testament to that.

They were an opportunity.

Without a care in the world or decency in his heart, Mephisto approached the cadavers with a spring to his step and a swing to his long limbs. He twirled the cane in his hand.

“Well, would you look at that?” he rubbed one of his eyes, knocking whatever latent interference might have been within from the momentary lapse in vision.

The blurring sensation surprised him at first, but he soon realized that it wasn’t his body failing him. Whatever he didn’t understand, whatever he didn’t know existed, did so without his consent. He approached the exposed corpse of a woman. She had been stripped of flesh many moons ago, the remnants picked clean by errant worms and scavengers. He pulled her free from the grasp of the hollow earth, strands of raw eldritch energy crawling from his fingertips and swirling into the nonexistent joints of the poor creature left behind and forgotten by time and family. [Magic E 14]

“Atta girl!” Mephisto bowed his head slightly.

He noticed her jaw had been left askew by the process and so shut it with the head of his walking stick.

“Won’t you play us a little melody while the others engage in the rough and tumble?”

He gave the puppeteered skeleton a wide smirk, snapping his fingers and cracking open a nearby femur in such a way as to give her a form of flute. Of course, she had neither lungs nor air… and so when she placed her bare teeth against the leg bone of what was supposedly a good friend of hers, the magic coursing through her disheveled form merely cycled into the air and returned to continue giving her a cursed, unnatural “life”.

There existed necromancy, and then there existed horrifying parlor tricks. This fell into the latter category, with Mephisto using her corpse as a vessel and more of a record player than anything of substantial value.

Mephisto flipped the coin Sir Edwin gave him into the air, snatching it back as it fell towards him. The music rolling from his puppet had a certain flair of drama and element of danger to it, giving the remainder of the group more than enough to work with in terms of preparing for the worst. The devilish Fae erupted in a cruel, cackling laugh as he found a nearby patch of grass and sat down. He actually possessed the audacity to cross his legs and lounge.

“War for the warmongers!” he cheered, getting ready for a bloodbath.

“Bring out the legions of the damned, the bone dragons and flesh-things! Turn this world upside down - oh War! From the cinders and ash of yesterday, unto cinders and ash we shall return,”

He nodded his head this way and that, catching sight of the wondrous hints of lingering damnation springing up one, two, three! He appreciated the growing sense of calamity dulling every other sense he had. It sent chills up and down his spine. He drank in the atmosphere, practically already smelling the carnage.

He remembered something hilarious and chuckled once more, tilting his head towards Dione. She seemed stalwart, honest, and blunt when she needed to be. He would have admired those traits if she were just a bit more free-spirited.

“Trust me? Oh come now. By the end of this, I’m sure you’ll find that it is easier to trust me than you’d like to admit,” his cruel smirk tightened.

“But that’s for another time!”

He suddenly snapped into a standing position. He didn’t move similarly to a human, from knee to hip to spine. He straightened from a reclining stance and to his feet as if he were pure fluid under that sheet of pale skin.

“You know my name, but I don’t know yours. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss - ?” he held his hand out, unfurling his long fingers like a fan of pointed black fingers. Upon closer inspection, the coloration had nothing to do with any form of glove.

The skin of his hands was pitch black, tipped with sharp, red nails.

Whether she refused was irrelevant. He only wanted to play his mental gymnastics for as long as possible, swirling around and giving his new friends plenty to work with. His gaze shot towards Faker, who was also among those who emerged from the bizarre mystery of the village.

He reached out with a sinister limb, his fingers curling into a certain gesture.

Without hesitating, he gave the man… a boop on his round nose!

“We’re in the middle of a game, my friend! The rules are… don’t die - and have fun!” he exclaimed with a psychotic, howling glee.

The skeleton kept playing her song, the song implanted into her dead dreams by the cruel man in front of Faker.

“I do believe, though… you’d be good at playing the bassoon!”

He laughed again. He extended his hand for Faker to grasp if he should choose to.

“If you heard my song, you know my name - so what’s yours, my friend? It certainly is a pleasure to meet you!”

 

[Voider]

Darin​

​

Equipped Titles: [Beast], [Adept Marksman], [Sentry], [Ryken Adventurer F], [Marsh Marching]

Mentions: DarkKitsune , Mephisto , Maxxob , Speed , Kris Rebel , Ersatra .​

---

While Darin could hear Mephisto's performance, he'd not given much attention to it; until the song caught up to him. "Gah!" He jerked away at Mehpisto's sudden appearance, though still not far enough to prevent the fae from laying an elbow on his head. Darin made his displeasure evident, but waited until the verse directed at him was over, having a feeling he couldn't stop it whether he wanted to or not. "Advice? What do you think I'm doing!? You..." With a frustrated growl, Darin turned away as the fae was already further into the song.

Darin's questions to Kain received no response. They were, however, answered by someone else: The woman who had spoken to Dione and him about the three horsemen. "We are in a time loop, then... and you are all long dead people?" He muttered, before addressing her fully. "Lupinvale, Malia; I will not forget these names, whether you say it will matter or not." Assuming he got out of this, Darin didn't think he'd be forgetting anything about this night anytime soon.

Just as Darin began to calm down after his initial realization, his vision blurred without warning. Instinctively, he pulled back the hammer on his musket, readying to fire at a moment's notice. Yet, when Darin's sight cleared, all that was revealed was the same, forest village, but without the activity of the festival. Then, Darin heard a scream, and a second that was far closer. Pivoting on his feet towards the closer one, he raised his musket is preparation, readied himself for whatever horror might be there, and was met with the sight of... just the fellow visitor who had stuffed his face with food at the feast. A pause, then a sigh that relieved some of his tension.

There was no time to ponder on that, though; there was another scream nearby, and they were under threat at this very moment. Hearing Dione's question and Edwin's response, Darin turned towards them to add his own comment. "Certainly the location of where a threat is." While he hadn't much chance to speak with the black knight, it was only logical to assume he would act as their primary melee fighter in potential combat; meanwhile, having caught an earlier glance of Dione's lightning, it seemed his earlier assumption of her being unarmed was false. As for Mirraine and the sword wielding Faker, Darin hoped they knew how to fight, but at least it sounded like they took this seriously. Looking over at Mephisto with a glare, the fae appeared to be doing his best to hinder them with more distractions, and a... skeleton? He shook his head to refocus; giving regard that insanity would be foolish.

As Edwin began moving to investigate, Darin decided there was no more time to waste. Looking around at everyone, he gave a nod of resolution. "Well, I'm not going to be a target in the open: I will do my best to watch and cover you all as I move. Good luck." With that said, he sprinted to a building close by, moving to put his back against the wall, musket held at the ready and eyes scanning his surroundings [1]. Darin would keep track of the others' movements, doing his best not to let anyone out of his field of view[2], and darting from cover to cover as was necessary; house to tree, tree to house, never allowing himself to remain still for long [3].

---

Spoiler: Actions

Action [1]: Used Ability [Energized Speed F]; Movement
Darin darts to cover.
Action [2]: Used Ability [Watchful Focus E]
Darin does his best to keep an eye on everything and everyone in his vicinity, looking for anything else abnormal.
Action [3]: Used Ability [Energized Speed F]; Movement
Darin darts from cover to cover.

D Grade Cooldown: 1/2
E Grade Cooldown: 0/0
F Grade Cooldown: N/A

Watchful Focus E - Energized E, Focus E, Perception E, Insight E - Darin takes the time to focus on keeping aware of his surroundings, sensing for any abnormalities or specifics within in his vicinity, as well as studying the speech and actions of those around him. - 0 Post Cooldown

Energized Speed F - Fast F, Energized F - Darin sprints a short distance, covering ground but preserving stamina. - N/A Post Cooldown

 

[Speed]

Faker

Titles: Isekai [Mundane], Human [Mundane], Attentive Student [Grade E]
Class: Striker
​

As Faker made his way toward Dione, he couldn’t help but notice the others reacting to the sudden shift in their surroundings. Some of them lingered, cautiously investigating the area, while others appeared to have more grim business to attend to. Whatever it was, Faker wasn’t particularly interested. He had his own priorities, and right now, that meant figuring out what was going on.

He waited patiently for Dione to respond, but before she could, Mephisto strolled over, his strange demeanor catching Faker’s attention. The fae had an eccentric air about him, one that Faker found peculiar - though not enough to engage with just yet. Faker watched quietly, taking in Mephisto’s appearance: tall, pale, with sharp teeth and dark eyes that had an unusual tint, almost matching the odd color of his horn-like hair. "If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s some kind of demon," Faker mused silently, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to make sense of the fae.

As Faker continued to observe, he was caught off guard when Mephisto suddenly tapped his nose lightly, interrupting his thoughts. "We’re in the middle of a game, my friend!" Mephisto exclaimed with an unsettling, gleeful tone. "The rules are...don’t die - and have fun!"

The sudden tap, combined with the fae's psychotic laughter, startled Faker. He instinctively took a step back, his composure momentarily faltering before he quickly corrected his stance. His grip on his blade tightened, and he raised it slightly, though he kept it close to his body, clearly annoyed. His brows furrowed deeply, eyes narrowing at the fae’s erratic behavior.

Then, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Mephisto redirected his attention back to Faker. "If you heard my song, you know my name - so what’s yours, my friend? It certainly is a pleasure to meet you!”

Faker’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t appreciate Mephisto’s playful, chaotic demeanor, especially given the gravity of the situation they were in. His grip on the blade tightened even more, and his voice took on a stern, no-nonsense tone.

"I do not share the same sentiments," Faker responded curtly, clearly unamused by Mephisto’s antics. His posture stiffened, and his eyes remained locked on the fae, showing that he was not in the mood for games. "Please refrain from repeating such actions."

The tension in his voice was unmistakable. He wasn’t about to let someone like Mephisto throw him off balance. Not now, not when things were already strange enough. Faker stood his ground, waiting to see how the fae would react, all the while keeping his guard up - just in case.

Interaction: Mephisto