The Sound of Screaming [KV Open]


Have you always believed in such things, or did something change your outlook? I used to believe in such things, but God helps no one especially in a time like this. Why would he help those who are bound to this war by destiny? If winning the war by prayer was an option, the whole thing would have ended early.

{ War was a funny way of describing what she’s been through. In war, you had comrades to help you. Mami had Kyouko but she ended up leaving Mami all alone again. It wasn’t a war. It was a string of bloody battles in order to survive and if she had lived through Charlotte’s encounter, that’s all she would have done.

If she never died by Charlotte’s hands, she would have been destined to slay witches. However, the Holy Grail saw a new opportunity for her by resummoning her as a servant. It wasn’t something she wanted to do, but she’d rather take this than fight a witch like Charlotte again.

People were both good and evil, she knew this. However, some people were eviler than others. }

Well, what do you think, Caster? Do you think that a man who wants peace is a good excuse for bloodying his hands? Which ones are the most dangerous - those who had good intentions but had to kill in order to make things right or the ones who save people in order to make themselves look good?

"… Hardly. I grew up knowing that a man could achieve good fortune in life only through his own dedication. That a family can only put bread on the table if the make their own God. As for winning with the aid of God, it’s possible that there is a man of God or two amongst us Servants. Which would mean they have divine aid in the battles to come."

Not that divine aid counted for much against the Servants here. They defied the ability of God in everything they did, and rejected all forms of His glory simply by existing. In fact, the entirety of this Holy Grail war was nothing but a mockery of the Crusades created in that divine name. A quest for an object outside his jurisdiction. Did that mean, then, that God was not so omnipotent as his believers thought. How intriguing.

In war, you COULD have comrades. But that made life all the more difficult to get through once you came back. Because some of those comrades would inevitably fall. The alchemist had seen it. Had known that reality. It was why those comrades were more likely to be subordinates, and why he never forgot a single face. Better to remember them than die forgetting. It was to honor them and their part in his wondrous music, as much as it was to ease what little soul remained to the man many called monster.

"Both kinds of men are dangerous, but I would stake any bets on the man who kills for peace. Because that man has a goal, and a strong will. And a person with a strong will does not stop at anything to achieve what he wants. Whether it be murder, blackmail, sacrifice or whatever he deems necessary, the man with a goal will come out on top. After all, it is men with strong wills who have shaped the world, isn’t it? As for excuse…" He shrugged slightly. "That is neither nor there. Evil and good are human concepts, and so they are easily shaped. Consider war. The victors are good: the opposing side evil. Yet both have committed terrible atrocities to further their gains. What makes one side different from the other? Their strength. That’s all there is."

(Source: whitesuitedalchemist)

avatar of vengeance (intro)


The attacking haunt quickly sidesteps to keep up with the alchemist, and swings the chakram down to what should have been the Caster’s death—only to be interrupted by a loud noise.

Without tangible forms to hold them, both shadows vanish as soon as the bright light envelops them. Invisible threads snap, their vengeance flaring as it turns into a direct attack onto the Caster’s spirit.

A new haunt steps into his view from the shadows behind a tree, whipping out a dark chakram from within its wispy cloak.

Many vengeful souls want you, Kimblee.

Winning isn’t the shadow’s goal in this fight; it doesn’t think that far. All it wants is for Kimblee to sing, to create the destruction the shadow wants to see.

In their rage, the souls within it are willing, however, to destroy the other Servant instead if he fails to comply quick enough.

The flashbang grenade had worked wonders. The shadows had dissipated… but not for long. Even against Pride, such a measure was only temporary. A seal. A container. He had to create one. But this was concrete he was working with. Unyielding and temperamental. 

A new shadow stepping out of the darkness. Would there be no end? Probably not, considering the nature of this war. It didn’t seem to want a true fight, though… But destruction. Chaos. At least they were of a like mind in that.

He smirked at the comment. “Many vengeful souls want me… and I remember them all. Every single one. From my first experiments, to the Ishbal war, to the Drachmans that died to complete the plan of another country’s true leader.”

Clapping his hands together, the alchemist backed away until he felt the bark of a tree behind him. He moved to his side, trailing fingers and energy across the trees around him. It would be a circle of light once they all went off.

"Even now, some serve me. Are with me, for this coming war. And this way, at least they will not be forgotten."

Chaos and destruction. A song to sing the world to sleep. He would have to defeat this shadow, true… but it didn’t hurt to indulge every once in a while.

war never changes [open]


All things are thought to change, fated to go through an inevitable cycle of evolution and growth until they reached a plateau. Scientific theories were always slung around, pointing to so-called facts and truths that aimed toward future possibilities deemed impossible just decades ago, often by skeptical and jealous peers. Toyohisa found it hilarious in hindsight, how those around him mocked the concept of electronic boxes that projected image and sound were the very same who would have been laughed at for being unable to comprehend it in the future. 


No matter the technological and societal advances, one aspect of life remained the same. No amount of time could change the very thing that killed millions and left nations little more than piles of rubble and wrecked dreams. Life itself could change, every human being might become floating balls of shit, and their way of life changed forever, but there would always be war. 

War will always exist, even among sentient piles of crap. 

What he witnessed now, however, didn’t feel much like war at all — combatants conversed with one another as if they were friends, forming bonds destined to be severed by others, or worst of all, themselves. Toyohisa deemed this not a war, but a conflict among naive children who preferred poking at each other with sticks rather than fulfill their purpose. The man in black knew of several fights that transpired already, but this was ridiculous.

So, he seated himself at a bus stop in the middle of a dead intersection. Tactically speaking, it was the worst possible move to make, inviting any and all who knew of his status in the war to attack him or even kill him. If any knew the excitement that swelled up inside his chest, however, they might think he was insane or had a death wish.

No. He just wanted to start things off right.

“ .. Come on. Don’t bore me, you naive fucks. “

Humankind had evolved over thousands of millennia. From their first days squatting in caves and roaming the world, to their current incarnations in towers of steel and glass, many aspects of life had evolved. The quality of life was higher. The people lived longer. Things long considered impossibilities were now dreams coming true. Miracles brought to life by the hands and work of man. If the people of Amestris could see this, then alchemists would certainly be out of a job… unless they were willing to go the extra step for easy transmutation.

Still, there were some things that never changed.

A taste for violence. A thirst for blood. True, this was not the time of the empires or civilizations past, when blood was openly spilled and the roars of approval could be heard across the sea. But humanity still thirsted for blood, like the savages they truly were. Their bloody games still existed. In wrestling. In boxing. In all manner of sport. In the games that they played to while away time, and the books they read to do the same. The bloodthirst was still there, but people were denying it. Denying their own true natures.

And war? Why, war was the biggest game of all. They called it a travesty. A tragedy. An abomination. But there were still casualties. Still victims. The alchemist couldn’t help but smile at the hypocrisy of man. Cowering behind pretty words, to hide. They were just as terrible as he was. At least the alchemist had the courtesy to show his true colors on the battlefield if necessary.

Of course, war wasn’t all about the battlefield. It was also about the backdoor deals. The politics of the entire thing. Not Kimblee’s area, though. Despite his love of philosophical musing, that had to be kept to a minimum unless he was about to face another Servant. A shame. There was so much that he could discuss. 

All these thoughts and more crossed Kimblee’s mind as he passed by a nearby intersection, devoid of life. And in the middle… a man in black. He didn’t belong here. Not with that sword of his. But there was none of the energy of a Heroic Spirit. A Master, then? A shame then, that Kimblee couldn’t kill him under the orders of his own Master… but then the challenge, and a loophole. The order had not been a formal order. And this one could still be used, after a bit of roughing up.

Did he want to be entertained? Fine. The man would be entertained. Removing his gloves and clapping his palms together, Kimblee knelt close to the ground. They used synthetics in the road. A tad irritating, but the stone removed any annoyance. Hands on the ground, and the energy began to surge forth… straight towards the stranger.

If he was lucky, he’d be able to get away from the road exploding from underneath his feet. If not… well, he was only one Master. And they would have to kill the others eventually, anyways.

The Sound of Screaming [KV Open]


Those with greed have no morals, or so I was taught. I could be wrong, however, I know that evil needs to be brought to justice, whether it’s by my own hands or by someone else’s. Fate can be amazingly great but it can be amazingly cruel as well. Don’t you think?

{ Fate, such a word she’s been hearing for the past week since she’s been here. Maybe this whole thing was because of fate. She couldn’t tell if it was a good kind of fate, for she was alive once more, or a bad one, for she was forced to fight in a war she had no real part of. She was a hero but not of the levels of a basic heroic spirit.

Then again, she wondered if half of these servants were even heroic at all. }

I’m not sure if we’re better than serial killers or maniacs honestly, but we can at least try to have some grace while we’re in this war. We’re fighting a battle that humans have no right to view. It’ll be too much for their eyes. I guess you could say I’ve been through something like this.

{ Witches were too much for a mere mortals’ eyesight. After all, Witch’s Kiss was one deadly spell cast on humans. She looked back at the caster and blinked before averting her gaze back to the building, where the firefighters an other self-proclaimed heroes were helping out. She wondered if some of these people were doing it for a quick 15 minutes of fame, as her eyes followed the Channel 13 news van drive down the street.

It made her sick knowing that some people wanted to help just for the fame. }

I can only hope that no evil being will get their hands on the Grail. It would be a shame to see such a powerful item go to waste.

"Fate and God only exist for those who wish they would exist. As a scientist, I believe in neither. Human beings are capable of creating their own fate, and exceeding the boundaries set by this so called God." Kimblee had never had a taste for organized religion, and that belief in preordained fate. Any person could choose their path in life, from the lowest to the highest. Everything was coincidence: it was simply a matter of steering yourself in the proper direction. "And greed is a word often interchangeable for ambition, which is a very positive thing."

So… she had been through a war of her own, had she? A battle with something far beyond her years. She couldn’t have been much younger or older than Edward Elric, and yet there was a calmness about her. A sort of quiet dignity betrayed only by her obvious youth. “No right to view? That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it? Our Masters are still only humans, and we fight for a wish that could potentially change the lives of many. Don’t they deserve to watch?”

Not to mention that, somewhere in their core, every human yearned for blood. It was why the gladiators of old were used to appease the masses. At the end of the day human beings were bloodthirsty creatures by instinct. They only tempered their bloodlust through notions of good and evil. Once that was gone, there was nothing that separated them from the animals. 

"Besides… good and evil are such tentative terms." His eyes had wandered in the same direction as the girl, looking at those putting out the fire and giving the news crew a smile and wave. "Are those men good for assisting those harmed by the fire? Or are they evil because they seek recognition and fame for doing so? Similarly, even if a man wholeheartedly wants to use the Grail to wish for peace, would the blood on his hands at the end of war make him evil?"

(Source: whitesuitedalchemist)

avatar of vengeance (intro)


The shadow brings its hands down, fidgets at the man’s request. Mercurial’s true self… the shadow wonders what that is. Self?

Clapping from behind the man as another haunt joins the fray and the original one vanishes. The shadow moves as if its giggling, but there is only silence.

Self… a sense of self. It is something the shadow lacks. It would be wonderful catch a sense of that sense. Wary of your self. But as far as the shadow is concerned, its sense of self doesn’t matter. If there’s anything the shadow is definitely wary of, however, it’s its thirst for destruction.

It brings its hand up, a finger on its chin, thinking. Then it makes a motion that looks like a shrug before looking back at the man.

Sing, it beckons the alchemist. Sing! The specter whips out its hand, a wispy cloak billowing out of the shadows, a chakram appearing from nowhere.

Sing more, Kimblee! It lashes out, a dark dagger flying towards the alchemist’s face, trailing shadows that enveloped the specter as it dashed forward.

Self. Who one is. Who they will be. The single driving core of a person that wills them to live or die. And the one thing that kept Kimblee intact amongst the screams of the damned. They did not affect them, for he was not like them. He had not, and would not accept fate as one of the nameless and dead. Perhaps that was why he had been chosen to participate in this war.

Another shadow. Another dark haunt, come to make him sing a song of destruction. A tad difficult around other Heroic Spirits. He had to think carefully on this. Two of them… so either they were many Servants in one, or one Servant that could become many. A Servant with an appetite for destruction. Now, who could this be?

But there were more important matters at hand. The blade. Kimblee pivoted on his right foot to avoid the blade before the shadow came after him. Bombs. NOW. Sparks of red around the gloves, before he threw them at the shadows. They would explode on contact… but with what?

How do you hurt a shadow? It was just like Pride… Just like Pride. Lips curled into a grin, Kimblee clapped his hands together, placing them on the ground. Magnesium was easily created. The same for ammonium, used to clean these streets. And the Philosopher’s Stone compensated for the lack of perchloric acid.

A flashbang. Perfect. If they ever crossed paths again, the alchemist would have to thank Alphonse Elric. Throwing it just behind the shadows, Kimblee closed his eyes. The light would be painful.

01.*the king arrives ; /open


It wasn’t like Roy wanted to escape the grasps of this war , it was only the fact that he wasnt truly fond of it. Ishval was one main reason. ” I’m Well aware about the natures of war. ” And he was , flash backs of the Ishvalan war often played in his night terrors. But once Kimblee gestured to the City broadly , his stare didn’t leave his for too long when he took in the City’s sights. ” Hnn .. ” He mumbled lowly when every vision he had when arriving here made more sense then what he had piece together.  

Such a shame he learned it from someone he never trusted - But it was straight up that it was all truth due to the proof in front of him.

” Master ? .. Hah, So they finally learned to keep this Dog on a leash ? ” With a sly smirk Roy had pulled his hand out from his pocket and firmly crossed his arms against his chest. It was one less thing for him to worry about picking a fight with , since he simply had to have his servant fight this dangerous man. However , Kimblee’s Master must be as dangerous as he , hell all the Masters must be dangerous here.

"I don’t doubt that." They had both been in Ishval, after all. Both required by the government to do what normal men would not. Often judged for the murder of innocents. Often praised for the putting down of insurgents. The two alchemists knew the price of war quite well. "I was only wondering if you had already found your own Servant. The streets are dangerous, after all." Fuyuki City was already transforming into a grim and desolate place. Already, the crime rate was rising and people were dying by the pound.

Taking off his hat, the alchemist only smiled. “You forget, Colonel, that I was always obedient and ready to serve.” Until the weakness of his superiors had shown its face. “Unlike certain other dogs of the military. But I digress: why should there be bad blood between us? If there is any combat to be had, it should be between me and whoever the Grail has chosen for you.”

you own this world ★ [@ Kimblee]


   Stat-reading ability? Stats? Like in a video game? It was rather embarrassing that she didn’t know what he meant when she was practically the epitome of information gathering. The blonde pondered for a moment, but before long, she was stricken with a similar sensation to when she’d first arrived in Fuyuki and had all of the information about the Grail War forced on her. Shokuhou grit her teeth and closed her right eye tightly as she felt something seer in her head. As if Caster’s words had triggered something — the apparent ‘magic’ — she was given knowledge about stats and different classes, including how to view them.

   Her mouth was slightly ajar once the information had been delivered and she was finally able to open her eyes, although there was now a line of blood dripping from her left nostril. Feeling the sensation, Shokuhou’s cheeks flushed and she quickly turned away to dab at her nose with the same handkerchief she’d used before. She’d never quite believed in the existence of magic outside of fairy tales, but there was something that was clearly conflicting with an esper like her. Did magic and AIM not work together? Shokuhou reassured the girls that she was fine when they reacted to the spasm she’d just had, then turned back toward Caster. “Let’s see how it works, then.”

   With her newly-acquired knowledge, Shokuhou focused on Caster and used her ability as his Master to view his statistics and abilities. Much like a holographic HUD, she could see a menu layout appear next to his head. There were letter grades in several different areas and she could see that Agility, Magical Energy and Noble Phantasm were his best ones.
   The Queen continued to browse the readout and committed to memory his abilities and strengths. Alchemy was certainly interesting if it would allow him to do what she was seeing. “Interesting! You’re quite powerful.” This was a nice ability to have. Having everything displayed for her was very convenient, so she took his advice and analyzed the three girls as well. They were technically here Servants now as well, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Fortunately, everything worked. As she turned toward them, Shokuhou could see the same lists appear next to each of them. Tachibana was a Saber, while Kamiya and Shinohara were both Casters. A wide smirk formed on her lips as she took note of everything and turned back to the male of the group. “This is very good to know.” So much had happened in such a short amount of time, but she felt she was finally getting the hang of it. She knew there were a lot of battles ahead of them, but just the four she currently had under her were strong in their own rights and she’d only continue to add fighters to her arsenal. It wasn’t a bad start.

   Caster’s next words agreed with her greatly and as she listened to him, she felt she’d been given the perfect Servant. The things he was saying fit her personal style exactly and she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Are you sure you’re not reading my mind?” A soft giggle followed as a plan formulated itself in her mind. She knew what she was going to do next, but his next sentence made her pause. What did she want? That’s right, there was a wish or something, wasn’t there? She hadn’t had time to think about it yet, but she was already certain of what she’d ask for. Shokuhou yet again reached for her remote and pressed its usual button. The facial expressions of the girls froze and deflated, their eyes zoning out once again. They were going to be used in a moment and this particular part didn’t concern them.

   “Freedom, power, authority… Before I woke up here today, I was the Queen of my school. I was their Queen and they were my loyal subjects. If I’m to have something granted to me at the end of this, it’ll be that this world be my kingdom.” It was a simple thing, but something extreme. She didn’t say any more about it and turned to the girls. “As for an army, I can certainly do that. Tachibana, come with me.”

Of course, Queen.”

   The two Caster girls remained with the man as Shokuhou and the Saber departed from the sidewalk and walked to the center of the intersection. An order was given and Tachibana lied down in the street in a pose that looked as if she’d been murdered. Shokuhou took a deep breath, then screamed. “Kyaaaaaaa~!! Someone, please help!! Anyone!” Her voice was quite loud and full of panic, but it was doing what it was supposed to. As the cries for help continued, people began shuffling out of shops, stores and buildings in order to see what was going on. Reacting to the distress, around seventeen people ran over to the two girls with concern, all of them crowding around in a circle. Once they had, it was over. “Freeze them,” commanded the Queen. Tachibana’s hands pressed against the pavement and veins of ice began to spread, quickly ensnaring the civilians’ feet. They were now struggling, but unable to free themselves. Once Tachibana had picked herself up off the ground, Shokuhou began walking around the circle.
   Each person she passed, she laid her hands on and used Mental Out on their minds. Each one was affected the same as the girls in Shokuhou’s party, each of them had slave personas inserted. Once she’d finished up with the seventeenth person, the Queen sighed and used her remote. “Speak.” In legion-like fashion, the new subjects spoke in unison,


   The brainwashing had been successful. As Shokuhou and Tachibana returned to Caster and the other girls’ sides, she released her control on the crowd. Their memories of a distress call had been erased and they were all wondering in confusion why they were outside. A delighted smile was displayed on Shokuhou’s face as she finally rejoined Caster and stood before him, ready to explain her spoils. “Of that group, there were four Masters and three Servants. They belong to me now. ★” Unable to figure out what had happened, the large group began to disperse and return to their original buildings. The clatter of footsteps finally died down and Shokuhou was ready to ask Caster something in return. “What will you ask the Grail for?”

It wasn’t her fault, really. The Grail seemed to be acting… unusual, if what had been imparted on Kimblee was any indicator. There were meant to be only seven Servants, although if the energy and frequency of the Heroic Spirits was any indicator they were growing closer to 700. A nuisance, but easily dealt with. And there were meant to be trained magi summoning each Servant, but if her lack of knowledge on the subject was any indication, Misaki had been randomly selected for this particular competition. No matter. She could learn on the go, and it wasn’t as if Magecraft was a requirement. Just a Magic Circuit and the potential, of which she had plenty.

The blood was a symptom, it seemed, of her inability to cope with magic. Was her ability scientifically based, then? Or did it simply mean that the world she was dabbling in was too different from her own? Either way, any information pertinent to the Grail War would have to be given to her later. Especially prana transfer. She certainly wouldn’t be able to provide the alchemist with any at this rate. At least the Philosopher’s Stone allowed for the boost in Territory Creation Kimblee needed to take his own…

As she commented on his power, Kimblee beamed with pride. “I take pride in being one of the stronger Casters.” At least on paper. Many of the other Casters would probably possess Anti-Army or stronger Noble Phantasms with an EX level, to compensate for their lower stats. Although the alchemist’s final Noble Phantasm was certainly strong, he wasn’t sure how strong it would be against other Servants… especially if they decided to team up. But, he mused, that was what his Master’s army would be for. To assist in mowing down whatever stragglers were left that did not succumb to his attacks.

Shaking his head, Kimblee looked to his Master. “I’m not a mind reader: merely a veteran of a different war, Mistress. One where similar measures needed to be taken.” Such seeming innocence hiding a devious mind, and they were of one hand in terms of strategy. The alchemist could certainly grow to admire this girl, and the conviction of her goal. In her he saw shades of the Flame Alchemist. Of that burning desire to take this world for their own, they shared. But unlike the Flame, she had no qualms. No doubts. And that was exactly what this war needed. Those who would sacrifice anything and everything to achieve their goals.

He was almost tempted to give her a round of applause.

But no, now the alchemist had to stand back and watch as the minds of her latest subjects were wiped. It seemed almost a shame… but also a necessity. Otherwise, there were mistakes. People who wouldn’t obey. Kimblee could remember the dust in the air when Major Armstrong had almost helped to women escape the persecution. It was fortunate he had been there, to ensure that the job was completed. Some people let their hearts rule them. But war was war. There would always be casualties. The trick was to remember them, and let the thought of them keep you moving.

The ice was almost like McDougal. McDougal, who thought that he had been fighting against the yokes of his oppressors. What a notion that man had had. Kimblee was just fine playing the subordinate to test his theories and beliefs. Better to stay in your commanding officer’s good graces. And speaking of the devil… it seemed that Misaki had completed the use of Mental Out on her newest batch of recruits. “Well done, Mistress. If this is what we’re accomplishing on the first day, our chances of succeeding in this war are very good.”

The question didn’t catch him off guard, but the alchemist still didn’t have a proper answer for it… mostly because he didn’t really desire much of anything from the Grail. This was his perfect testing ground. The ideal place to match wills with others. After all, Heroic Spirits were formed because of their dedication to their respective causes. What better place to see if that strength would carry them through? Then a thought struck him, and the alchemist smiled. “Tools. An instrument, perhaps. Capable of creating the finest music the world has ever known.” Orpheus had spun a song of creation, enough to makes stones split and gods weep. The song Kimblee desired would do much of the same… Only it would carry destruction in its wake.

The finest song to sing the world to sleep. His Mistress would claim it, then he would challenge her for it. To sustain it or destroy it. A final battle, to test his conviction against hers. But for now, only obedience.

The Sound of Screaming [KV Open]


It wasn’t all that different from Fiore, to be honest. Televisions resembled lacrimavision, telephones and cell phones were in a way very similar to communication lacrima, and other things were the same as well. Other than the fact most people didn’t have magic, and vehicles ran on ‘gas’ instead of it, it was pretty much the exact same as back home.

The one who commited the crime didn’t seem to be taking the subtle approach like many other competitors, however, proving he either had a serious penchant for explosives that he could not contain, or he just had a taste for destruction. Either was possible, and neither option proved that the other was in his right mind. He did seem to be rather clever, however. 

Nobody paid attention to the two by the cafe, mostly concerned with trying to put out the fire and rescue any scavengers from the collapsing building. He cast them a disinterested look, finding their efforts quite meaningless. If they did manage to rescue anyone, chances they would be permanently scarred or disfigured were quite high. Not to mention the ones who were probably going to be dead on arrival to the hospital.

Fire and explosives never interested him that much. He was unsure how some people could find it interesting, finding a few red sparks to be the most fascinating thing in the world. The reactions were interesting, yes. Didn’t mean he would go around blowing up every building he came across merely because he liked the reactions they gave.

“By stating ‘it might have been’, you have practically given yourself away. Either you don’t really care if you’re caught, or you’re just really bad at making excuses. A blatent disregard for smoking laws would not have set off an explosion that big.” Jellal smirked.

“As for who’s asking, I am merely referred to as Caster. That is all you need to know.” Now to see his reaction. Even a flicker of recognition, and he would know if the man was a participant as well. He already has reason to suspect, now all that was needed was confirmation.

Normally, he would be subtle about his actions. Those unlike himself, obsessed with their own petty little lives, would be horrified to know that there was a man of Kimblee’s caliber loose in the city. Which was why he played up his gentlemanly side. True, it was always good to be well-mannered and seem well bred. But people could be quite dense, which was unfortunate. Kindness, generosity… that didn’t matter. Only one’s power and strength of will truly made a difference in the world. It was only a matter of seeing where that conviction would take them.

But that would simply be counterintuitive right now. He could take them unawares, true… However, it didn’t seem like the right option to take at this point. Subtlety was only required around those who deemed themselves heroes. Against those rather less heroic than the title would suggest, it wasn’t necessary. Besides, even an alchemist needed someone who appreciated art around sometimes.

"That’s where you’re wrong. It truly depends on the situation. The amount of gas leaked, the cigarettes lit and their location, the chemicals that could be found in the hospital… there are quite literally hundreds of thousands of variables that could be taken into account when creating an explosion." His pleased smile betrayed him, however. "But I digress. You’re right: I was the composer of this fine disaster."

He had no fear about sharing that now. Mostly because there was not a single thing that could be done to save those poor souls. The Philosopher’s Stone was a hungry thing, constantly needing to be replenished. The patients, doctors and nurses inside could say goodbye to their humanity within. Unless they were anything like the current wielder of the stone, of course.

"A Caster? How fortunate… or unfortunate, as it may be. It seems that we share more than just a view of this lovely sight." The only question now was whether this one would be hostile or not.

(Source: whitesuitedalchemist)

avatar of vengeance (intro)


Heey, the stalking shadow continues regardless, moving slowly towards the man in front of it.

A man, dressed properly in white, had caught sight of the shadow. Of course, the man isn’t someone that Mercurial had ever met a complete stranger to the shadow, but the specter isn’t just any ghast. It is the embodiment of the rage and vengeance of all souls. It knows the man, the people he killed, and takes an interest in him.

His potential for the destruction Mercurial so thirsts for.

A smile as greeting. A grin.

It draws closer, closer than any stranger should be. It lifts a frail-looking hand to touch the man’s cheek, the cold shadows stroking him softly.

Kimblee, the shadow whispers. Music, Kimblee. Music, the shadow calls, its thirst for destruction urging it on. Sing me your music.

The man stopped, intrigued by the shadow. They had always been Pride’s domain… but it wasn’t him. Or else the homunculus would already have torn him to shreds. And yes… the voice was definitely female. Almost melodic. Soothing. But there was menace behind it. Quiet, but unmistakeable. The tone was his own, after all. When he was pretending to be that which he was not.

It drew closer, closer than it ought to have been. A human being this close would probably have felt a slight shock, before their flesh rippled and their body burst in a cascade of blood and innards. It would have ruined the suit, so it was a good thing that this stranger was intangible.

Unflinching. Apathetic. Pride had done this and worse. But girls were much, much more devious.

And yet… it asked for his music. A single piece would do no harm. A single drumbeat. A flash and bang. Smirking, he laid hands on a nearby lamp post. Felt the rush of energy within his hands, hot as a miniature sun it seemed. Then it moved. He stood back. The energy rippled through the lamp post. Three… two… one…

A normal man would have shattered his ear drums, listening to the explosion. But Kimblee was no ordinary man. He was an artist. A musician. And this was but a single note in the symphony he was conducting for Fuyuki City. “A note. Only a note. Unless you show yourself. Your true self. Not a shadow.” Then… then he could begin this dance of destruction.

The Sound of Screaming [KV Open]


If it was reduced to a one on one fight, then by the way things seemed to be, Valentine might be more prepared. No matter where she went, her medical equipment never left her side, and it made her job a lot easier. The skill she possessed with such implements was sufficient enough to incapacitate many a fighter. However, there was still the peculiar and illogical power of magic, and though Valentine wished not to believe in it, the power of the Skull Heart was undeniable. There was magic in that entity, which, by an unfortunate chain of thought, meant that magic had to exist elsewhere. In this Caster’s case, within him. And while she might have the upper hand in the initial standoff, that mysticism might just get the better of her.

“Consider yourself fortunate that your Master is so understanding. I don’t doubt that there are others who would be appreciative of your methods. With that as your aim, I have to admit, you’ve been successful. Again, not the way I would have gone about it, but the end result is the same.” 

The casual back and forth between the Berserker and the Caster was, by anyone’s measure, going absolutely nowhere. Valentine’s goal was to assess whether or not this man was the cause of the explosion, and she had already gotten her answer. She could have simply walked away, but in times of war, turning one’s back on a potential threat was never a smart move. His actions of sadistic reverie, coupled with his deadly glare… Had it been any other person taking in this sight, they might have shuddered.

Instead, Valentine put one hand behind her back, reaching for the pack that held her scalpels. In a pinch, she’d have at least one between each of her fingers, a Checkmate Incision, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice. Such miniature cuts would serve as both minor damage and a distraction tactic, leading up to an EKG Flatliner that might hopefully flatline the Caster.

“If I had a choice, I’d ask for it later. There’s a better chance of surviving longer that way. Letting the rest of the patients pick each other off seems better than doing the job myself. But, that’s my diagnosis of the situation. Maybe you wouldn’t mind giving a second opinion?”

It wasn’t as if Kimblee hadn’t utilized his territory creation. Set aside bombs that detonated upon touch here and there. But he had learned his lesson the hard way in life: alchemists, unless unusually strong, weren’t all that competent in hand to hand combat. Sure, being trained in the military had helped, but against battle hardened combatants who had spent their whole lives defending their beliefs and protecting their lives was not the way of an alchemist or Caster.

No… better to take an opponent unawares. All was fair in love and war, after all.

"How would you have done it, then? Utilizing the Mad Enhancement of your class? Or by leaving a trail of murdered patients as you move from hospital to hospital?"As he talked, the alchemist began to take off the gloves on his hand. Only cloth, and slightly rougher than he would have liked, but they had served their purpose. To hide the circles on his hands, until such a time as they were needed. If the Berserker’s eyes were sharp, she would see the moon and sun tattooed within triangles. What she wouldn’t know was that they were gold and silver within a hexagram: an imbalance in energy. And when that imbalance was transferred… a beautiful explosion occurred.

His eyes didn’t miss her hand, moving behind her back. Those eyes didn’t miss very much of anything. So long as there was a chance of victory in a battle, the alchemist could see possible outcomes and actions. Thank goodness for the Amestrian military. What could she be hiding? Weapons, no doubt. Guns, perhaps. Possibly blades… oh, could it be scalpels? She was a nurse, after all, unless that was merely a disguise. He would have to see what she did next.

"I suppose your diagnosis is correct… for the current situation." By now, Kimblee’s gloves had been almost absentmindedly bunched up into a ball. Tightly packed. "Unfortunately, I’m no doctor. Merely a scientist. And what I know is that for every action…" Red sparks were beginning to play around the cloth ball. It was being charged with explosive, unstable energy. "There is an equal, and opposite, reaction!" He hurled the makeshift bomb towards the nurse, already retreating closer to the flames… and closer to the traps he had set.

Now, it was time to dance.

(Source: whitesuitedalchemist)