User:Ahalosniper

Dark Souls
If I ever get into that.

Frax the Meek
"Can't trust it. Can't trust anything! Not the floors, not the windows. Nothing."

- Frax mutters to himself.

American Idiot
American Idiot is the Stand of ASniper. Though it possesses almost no strength or toughness, making it almost useless in straight combat between Stands, its Protest ability grants its user a unique edge: stopping one action the opponent intends, just by saying "No." With no necessary recharge between uses, the power can be used again and again to bring an opponent to a halt, one action at a time. Its downside, however, is the opponent must be specifically thinking of the action they want to take, thus accidents or an intuitive opponent reacting rather than thinking are still viable threats. The action also has to be specific, thus stopping one punch at a time rather than preventing someone from ever throwing a punch.
 * Ability: Protest

Initially, ASniper appears an enemy to Brojo (Brodie's Jojo?), perhaps flesh bud controlled or under a misdirection, but a weakness is discovered in that the target also has to hear ASniper's protest for it to work, thus making deafened or earplugged opponents immune to his one strength. This accounts for its relatively high range and speed, being defined as "earshot". Its high precision represents the specificity of its targeting intentions, and its high developmental potential meaning the wide range of actions it can prevent.

Joining the band of heroes known as Halo Party Time after his defeat, ASniper later helped overcome a powerful clairvoyant enemy. Though the enemy had rendered ASniper mute temporarily, his previous defeat taught him the protest didn't need to be spoken or heard so much as perceived by the target. Thus, when the opponent tried to stop reading his mind, ASniper protested it by thinking "No!", forcing him to heed every subsequent protest despite disabling his voice.

Mercy Snippets
“You, I take it, are the Lancer of this Holy Grail War.” Rider asserted, the butt of his spear tapping the ground as he lifted its point away to hold like a staff. “With such a title, I can only conclude that were I to face you with my own lance, I would find myself outmatched.”

The spear suddenly snapped into tiny motes of magical light, disappearing as his empty hand went to his waist. “I’ll see how you fare against my xiphos,” Rider called out, and drew the sword belted at his side, “Compulsion!”

Yellow Saber
Yes, I'm serious. Sort of. Not serious enough to do the work myself, but if this inspires you, go nuts.

GoT Servant Classes
Because why not?


 * Saber
 * Eddard Stark (Ice)
 * Brienne of Tarth (Oathkeeper)
 * Jon Snow (Longclaw)
 * Half the fekking kingdoms
 * Archer
 * Bronn of the Blackwater (The Big Fucking Ballista)
 * Ygritte
 * Brendyn Tully
 * Lancer
 * Oberyn Martell
 * Grey Worm
 * Jaime Lannister (Failure at dragonslaying version)
 * Rider
 * Daenerys (Dragons)
 * Robb Stark (Grey Wind)
 * Stannis Baratheon (Cavalry)
 * Caster
 * Melisandre
 * Qyburn
 * Bran Stark
 * Assassin
 * Arya Stark
 * Olenna Tyrell
 * Littlefinger
 * Berserker
 * Robert Baratheon
 * The Mountain
 * Any Thenn

Come Out And Fight
A soft, solitary tap came at the window of Einzbern Castle, and Saber looked up curiously. She was five stories off the ground in one of the magus family stronghold’s towers; the sound was out of place, something her rigorous training told her demanded a reaction. Only after her instincts had spoken did reason suggest it might have been a bird, but she saw no such creature on the ledge outside. Then, to her surprise, a pebble leaped from below, rebounded on the glass with an identical tap, and rattled to a rest on the sill. She set down her feather duster on a table and walked over.

The window suddenly exploded in a shower of fragmented glass and splintered wood as a full-length spear shot through it and embedded in the ceiling, quivering with untapped kinetic energy. Saber jumped enough for both feet to leave the floor, locked in steel-plate boots by the time she came down. Her sword, rendered invisible by swirling magic air, was summoned to her hand as, catching herself, she ran to the hole opened in the citadel’s sandstone wall.

“What is the meaning of this!?” she shouted, scouring the courtyard below.

There, she spotted three familiar figures clustered together and staring back up at her: Archer, Lancer, and Rider. The last gold ripples of Gilgamesh’s Gate of Babylon faded away behind them, the source of the offending polearm. Its owner stood at the end of three overlapping trails in the freshly-fallen snow, clad in resplendent golden armor the same brilliant color as his upturned hair. Next to him was Lancer in a black and dark green striped coat, and beside him, Rider in a stretched white t-shirt looking like he hadn’t so much as noticed the cold wrapped in his own thick muscles.

“Hullo, Saber!” Rider called with a smile, lifting one meaty hand with outstretched sausage fingers. “We’re gonna go fight! Wanna come?” Saber’s shoulders drooped, as did the point of her sword. She sighed, then yelled back, half-frowning, “I can’t. Irisviel says I have to help clean the castle.”

It was hardly the mundane task it sounded. The castle was huge, each floor partitioned into dozens of rooms, and with no one but her, Kiritsugu, Irisviel and Maiya living in it for the duration of the Grail War, dust was settling quickly throughout. By the time the four of them finished, she feared, a new layer would have fallen like dirty snow where they had started.

“Well. . .,” Rider loudly contemplated, “you could always just. . . not.”

Saber’s eyes flashed, tightening her teeth and her grip on the sword.

“Do you think to insult my honor?” She made a cutting motion with her free arm. “I would never think of abandoning my duty!”

She could hear Gilgamesh scoff from all the way at the tower’s top. “Then merely align your duty with your desires. As this world’s rightful king, and your future husband, I order you to come fight with us, and your Irisviel to order it as well.”

“She made Kiritsugu use a Command Seal, king of heroes.” She replied, tilting her head chidingly in his direction. “I couldn’t if I wanted to. And besides, didn’t we just kill Caster yesterday? It’s too early to be fighting again.”

“It’s never too early to conquer one’s enemies!” Rider spread his arms wide. “We all want to.”

“Oh really?” Saber asked. “Then where’s Berserker?”

One of the big, redheaded man’s arms reached back to scratch his head. “Sick. Or his Master is, at least.” Lancer took a step forward, head bowed toward Rider and speaking as softly as he could and still be heard. “You know,” he posited, “you might ask them if you can come out and fight. Defend their sacred honor and so on.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Saber said, glancing back inside over her shoulder. She could hear raised voices through the door at the other end of the room, not angry, but argumentative. Kiritsugu genuinely wanted her to go and fight, saying it would be good for her and better than being cooped up inside all day, but Iri was having none of it, and those battles only ended one way.

The King of Heroes crossed his arms stubbornly. “I cannot bear the thought of being left alone with only these mongrels for company. Take up your sword and join me in vanquishing them. If you do, I swear as king of all creation that I shall give you every pleasure the world has to offer! Feel free to answer wrongly as many times as you like, but I will not leave until otherwise.”

Rider and Lancer turned and shot him disgusted looks, but he took no notice. His eyes were closed and his chin turned away in disdain.

“You know, maybe I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” Rider said.

“Yeah.” Lancer agreed. “I’m taking my spears and going home.”

Just then, a crash sounded from around the corner of the building. Saber and the boys both turned, and heard Kiritsugu’s angry shout as the tall, grey mercenary came into view, Contender in hand.

“Think it’s funny to break peoples’ windows? You Servants get out of my courtyard and off of my lawn!”

The three Heroic Spirits turned tail at once and ran for the castle gate at top speed, shrinking rapidly into ever-less distinct outlines, but Saber’s sharp ears picked up their shouts as they retreated.

“No songs of victory, but time to leave nonetheless!”

“Run on the wind!”

“Wait for your rightful king!”

Notions

 * A Siren's song tempts a soul away from going to their afterlife, the beautiful song turning them back towards life.
 * Literomancer - one who tells fortunes (or uses magic) through written word, perhaps in this world by scribing spells onto scrolls.

The First Priestess
A very long time ago, in the twilight days of the White City, there lived two elves; Vamyar, nephew of the king, and Priori, his beloved, and handmaiden in their home to Vamyar's sister, Estrayis. Being of royal lineage, Vamyar had no control over whom he could marry, and thus could not legitimately court her. Feeling that to tryst in secret would make their love a source of shame, Vamyar asked that they remain chaste until they found a way to be lawfully joined, and Priori agreed. Though the pair were sure to be discrete, Priori's distraction led her lady to suspect her. Estrayis, however, had a secret of her own: she was among the first mortals to learn magic, part of a secret circle of mages taught by the rogue demigod, (X), a vassal of the Goddess of Sorcery, Vasha. Using what she'd learned, Estrayis cast a spell upon Priori to cause her to always tell the truth, and through this learned of her brother's love affair. Scandalized that her brother would choose to love someone outside of the nobility, which would cast aspersions on her whole family, herself included, Estrayis first thought to reveal them, but Priori told her mistress that now, she knew of her mistress' own secret. Thus, the three were forced into a mutual pact of secrecy.

Soon, however, their stalemate was broken by greater forces. By having any contact with mortals, the demigod had broken the decrees of Ira, Queen among deities and Goddess of Life and Light. When she learned of the breach, Ira and a few of her most loyal warrior demigods set foot in the world to hunt down the rogue. Intent on erasing his interference in the world, Ira did not stop upon finding and slaying the demigod, and ordered the purge of all his students. With what she'd learned of Vasha's magics, however, Estrayis was able to hide herself and used Priori to gather the things she needed. While Ira's sunbeams pierced the shadows, Estrayis escaped notice until Ira's gaze found Priori, and she was brought before the Queen of Goddesses for questioning. Because of her lady's spell, Priori could not lie, and Estrayis was shortly found and murdered by Ira's vassals. Grateful for her help, Ira decreed that henceforth, Priori would serve a new mistress and rewarded her with eternal youth, the Goddess of Life thinking nothing of the gift of immortality. Ira departed, leaving behind her first mortal priestess in the world.

Were this where the story ended, all would have been well. But Ira's flippant blessing would soon spoil and become a curse. Vamyar, though thrilled for his love's gift at first, remained fruitless in his efforts to see them wed for an entire year. Though elves change little in so short a time, it struck Vamyar that the difference in their ages had changed. One day, he feared, he would be too old for her, and she would desire someone younger and cease to love him. Priori assured him she would love him even in old age, and knowing she could only speak the truth, it comforted Vamyar for a time. But soon, it gave rise to his second worry. No matter how long she loved him, Vamyar would one day die, by sword or age. Longing to be for her what she deserved for all time, Vamyar became distraught and consumed by the search for a solution.

His searching brought attention unto him in turn, for Cernos, God of Death, had kept an eye on the situation since Ira's intervening, and saw perhaps a chance to match his opposite's power to give unending existence. In the night, Cernos revealed himself to Vamyar, and offered him the chance to endure for all eternity so long as he would enter the death god's service. Willing to do anything to make himself desirable for Priori, Vamyar submitted, and Cernos pierced his skin with a bite, draining the life from him while leaving his body whole. Without a driving life force, Vamyar no longer felt the harrows of time, becoming the first undead. Finding that many of mortality's weaknesses no longer applied to him, Vamyar thanked his new master profusely and went at once to Priori. When she laid eyes upon him, however, Priori was horrified, for when life had left his body, so had the blood from his veins and the warmth from his heart. To rejoice in their eternal companionship, Vamyar asked her to break their chastity, and at that moment Priori knew the man she loved was no more. She rejected him, and though Vamyar cursed her and advanced upon her, she was protected by the breaking light of dawn, and Vamyar fled into the darkness.

Vamyar would return to Cernos, who completed his transformation into the first Vampire, and after gathering strength began to search again for the love who spurned him. But she fled from him, protected by the day and carrying its light with her in the dark. Everywhere she went, Priori left behind the name of a being who would protect those from the darkness who whispered the Light goddess' name. She lived a life of small renown until after the First War, when she allegedly helped to establish a church devoted to Ira's worship. The priests and priestesses she trained were taught to defend themselves against the darkness, and those who dwelt within it. Thus, clerics and the undead have always been enemies.

Thiefy Thingy
See the beautifully-crafted origin of world elements up above? Yeah, this is how they look when the start out:

There once lived a thief whom only thieves can speak of, for unlike the legendary FAMOUS THIEF or notorious FAMOUS THIEF, this thief had no reputation. Which is the best sort of reputation if you’re a thief. He knew how to avoid leaving a trail, and he knew how to build up a false trail, for even the cleverest of city constables to go chasing geese upon.

For instance, he would steal from other thieves just as they thought they were safe after a heist. And sometimes he would return the items, even before the rightful owners had known it was gone. He did it for fun.

He had no attachments, but for one. A watch. Wasn’t even nothin’ fancy, so it couldn’t ‘ave been something he stole. At least that’s what the old thieves say, who sit in speakeasies and drink and guess at such things. Some of ‘em say it was a lady.

This would be the thing that got him caught.

Some long blah-de-blah about how the watch got him caught.

The lesson to a wise thief is that to be a perfect thief, you must have no attachments.

AIs

 * Saber class: Electronic warfare specialists, most adept at fighting other AI.
 * Lancer class:
 * Archer class:
 * Rider class: Ship AIs. Extremely versatile, able to coordinate day-to-day schedules to weapons trajectories and ship maneuvers.
 * Caster class: Research and development AIs, skilled in processing tremendous amounts of data.
 * Berserker class: Assault AIs. Built to infect and wreak havoc on computer networks. Often employed by human rebels attacking civilian grids.
 * Assassin class: Spies, adept at intrusion and avoiding detection.

The Alchemist
Shawn Trudell had been an incredibly gifted child, scoring far above his peers and placing in advanced classes with very little effort all through grade school. But by the time he started secondary education, he'd become so used to getting by with only his natural intelligence that he was unprepared for the hard work required to stay ahead. Though he showed clear signs of genius when it came to the sciences, Shawn coasted through high school on a minimum of effort, interested more in music and entertainment than his classes, and found himself totally out of his depth upon entering college. After dropping out briefly in pursuit of a failed career as a musician, he went back to school and got a job as a chemistry teacher at an inner city high school. His interest in music stayed with him, however, and it was at a flash music festival deep in the backwoods that, by impossible chance, his life was changed.

What the other revelers thought was a shooting star to wish upon, Shawn realized was a meteorite falling to earth, and sure it would impact just beyond the next ridge, set out on an impulse to find it. Hiking miles from the concert alone, near daybreak he found the object, but it was no simple chunk of space rock; it had been purposely shaped in strange patterns, and formed of a material Shawn couldn't identify. While he approached with caution, something within the device sensed and scanned him, and the headache it brought on caused him to lose consciousness. When he woke, having somehow returned home, Shawn realized he could recognize instantly the compounds, molecules, down to the very elements making up everything around him. Recognizing he'd been given a gift, Shawn refused to let his abilities go to waste for a second time, and joined the ranks of the world's superheroes as the Alchemist.

Shawn's abilities don't sound overtly impressive off-hand: identification of elements and an advanced alien knowledge of chemistry. But with a mind like his, knowledge becomes a formidable power. The compounds he cooks up with the most basic lab equipment can be used to burn or blast precise holes in walls to reach trapped hostages, blind an enemy with flashes or great clouds of smoke, or momentarily liquefy asphalt to harden again a moment later and stop a villain in their tracks. Even in the heat of battle between heroes and villains, the Alchemist can come up with solutions to any number of crises, such as mixing a solution of household chemicals to render a mix of explosives harmless, or identifying what makes up the armor protecting a master villain and how to best get through it. While he's no super-genius, his ability as a chemist means he's the hero association's go-to on studying alien elements like kryptonite. While he readily takes part in super-powered confrontations, Shawn still has only the durability of a mere mortal, and can very easily be injured by those with superhuman strength. He regularly sports casts or broken ribs on the mend after coming back from a day he called in a substitute teacher at the last minute.

Personally, though, Shawn's own failings in the past have taught him humility, and the chance to live up to his potential as a superhero has made him much more content as a simple high school teacher. He finds that while he can save lives as a hero, it's the work he does changing young lives in the classroom that's most valuable. He remembers how little of his own potential he acted upon, and makes every effort in reaching out to struggling or unchallenged students at his own expense, even on a teacher's wages. He's often wondered if perhaps one of his students will go on to have a superhero alter-ego, and who knows? Perhaps one of them already does.