Impaler Prince

[el-cadejos]

[impalerofblack-blog]

verfurdo:

impalerofblack

♦ ♦ ♦ Not all who carried weapons in this city were Servants, Elizabeth was more than aware of this from her previous extended stays. There was no need to fight regardless, and so she wouldn’t raise her lance against another without purpose. 

Or so she’d claimed, and yet upon the convenient excuse that someone had ‘struck’ her, she’d found both her weapon dowsed in blood while spatter decorated both the skin and garb of her body. And yet she continued along the city streets without batting a single eyelash. Most had the sense to move, but one man did not, bringing her skipping step to a halt.

“You have a lot of nerve blocking the way of an idol, old man! Do you have something to say?”

Fixated upon the novels laid upon display in the windows of a bookstore,  Vlad was almost unusually ignorant to the world around him. When the harsh greeting of He had simply not noticed her, nor was he privy to whom she was. Where the fiendish young woman inspired fear in the others, Vlad looked upon her with nothing but a slight smile of intrigue. Dealing with those who murder carelessly and without remorse was not uncommon for the Impaler Prince, and in truth, he found them boring. But this young woman did hold his attention...

“Hm? Oh, I would beg your pardon. I was not aware that I was in your path, or that your ability to simply dart around was hindered by my presence. So very sorry.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those ‘idols’ that this world holds in such high praise. What a shame, I would have expected one in such high regard would have learned basic courtesy to others, but alas, it seems such a thing was meant for a very different time.”

[impalerofblack-blog]

Of Vile Company

[impalerofblack-blog]

utatai:

There were questions flung her way, and with every inquiry, came a deeper crease in her brow.  Her fingers flexed, forming a fist, pulling back her arm and lifting it in a way to intimidate . “Alright you bearded jizz lord, you want my fist down your throat or my foot up your ass?” 

Eyes looked him over again as her fingers closed tighter around his esophagus.  She would then release her hold a bit, and instead bringing her foot up to kick him in the shin. No words were spoken, as she let him go after he had dished out, what she deemed, an acceptable amount of pain.

Arms folded under her bust as she really took the time to gaze around the area – littered with bottles, trash, it was pretty fucking depressing. There was a subtle twinge of guilt that welled in her chest, as she then quelled it by glowering back to the trespasser. She took out her emotions on anyone around her, it never ceased to change.

Pointing to him in an accusatory way, she began to speak once more: “What are you going on about?” She did not wait for an answer… “This house is NOT abandoned, and I did NOT want to be found. So, you can run along with your answers now or I can make you.” Ah, always the gracious host.

"Bearded what lord...?”

The name held his attention more than her threats in all honesty. He wasn’t certain of how his physical form would handle abuse in this world, but such things were never all that concerning to him as a servant. With a flinch at the blow to his leg, he was released. It seemed whatever anger she had seemed to be very weak-willed...

Her rage did not incite fear, nor even caution in the Impaler Prince. In fact, it seemed to only cause him to be further interested in her situation. Her demeanor was of one ruined by the world, in loathing of oneself and of all around them. What could have created such a painful existence in one so young? Sweeping himself off, he ignored her open threat, and rose to his full height again, his smile not even slightly diminished.

“Ah, but now I have more questions. You do not seem the type to care for such extreme luxuries as a home like this. Someone as callous as you would no doubt find an abode like this hardly worth your time. Did you perhaps ransack the estate and kill its owner? Or did the owner pass this mansion onto you? Then again...”

[sabelvonschwarz]

Under the pale moonlight

impalerofblack

[impalerofblack-blog]

sabelvonschwarz:

Sector 4 was a place the knight found some solemn peace at. With all the different architecture, there was even some reminding him of the west European style back from his time. 

Running his hand along the coarse stone wall he wandered through an alleyway in the dark. The lights were poor and most of it emanated from the marking growing from his chest in it’s teal lights, slowly increasing and fading in strength as if it followed the rhythm of his breathing.

The silence of the night was to be shortlived for the man. He had felt their presence slowly crawling around him. And now the snarling could be heard, it was evident he was the prey of a pack of beasts, still hidden in the dark.

Slowly he pulled out the wooden sword from its sheath on his back. Violence was a commodity for the former king. Reaching an open terrace, Siegfried turned around just as the swipe of the beastkin narrowly missed him. 

Werewolves, there were warnings of them lurking during the night, and here was with three of them. 

Blocking a strike from such instinct running beasts was a trivial thing. Yet they have him cornered and a wooden blade can only cut so deep with each swing on such thick hide.  While fending off one another came charging with a full body tackle to force the both of them down the terrace and down to the market below. Mid-air however, Siegfried turned the best around to be on the recieving end of the crash while having his blade thrust into the throat of the beast, the last gurgle sounds of resistance before the monster went limp. The impact proved fatal for the lycanthrope while its furred body served as a cushion for the landing, wrecking the pavement beneath.

The marking on Siegfried’s chest glowed eerily in the night as he wasn’t the only who tried to enjoy the nostalgic architecture of a past time. Another character was having their own handful of midnight monsters to deal with. However, those did not pay heed to Siegfried as they focused on their own prey.

Grabbing a closed barrel full of apple, he threw it with all his might at one of the beasts, knocking it down to the ground with the barrel breaking and the fruits pouring out.

“ What a dreaded night to have a curse. 

Allow me to even out the numbers. “

Hive City was truly a lovely place, a land that adhered to the many tastes of the residents within it. The sights, tastes, sounds were all made from a multitude of cultures, and gathered for the people of the city to enjoy. It was a great shame that the events in the world often drove the joy from it for the other inhabitants, but Vlad the Third found no reason to restrain his own enjoyment of it, their troubles were not his own.

And so there he was in Sector 4, partaking in this very fine evening with a lovely meal, a foreign cuisine that he had never had the chance to indulge himself in from a distant land he had never heard of. Fingers delicately dipped as fork and knife carved into the succulent meat of what he assumed was a fish. Regal and proud were his mannerisms, taking only humble bites as to savor the seafood before him. But then, there was a shift in his stature, a slight frown crossing his face as ,quietly, he placed his fork onto his plate, and with unerring speed, he lifted his wooden spear up to intercept the charge of the ferocious beast who was quite intent on ruining his evening, impaling the beast through the heart on the spot.

The vicious creature was heard before it was seen, it’s feral panting an unwanted sound in this otherwise quiet night. It felt itself clever for trying to sneak upon a man during his meal, and paid the price. However, the Impaler’s evening was ruined by the intrusion, as the creature’s life blood spilled out upon his plate. With a scowl of disgust and disappointment, the servant rose, before gripping the creature by the snout and neck, and, with a violent crack, brought it’s manic writhing of death to an end.

“Loathsome vermin.”

But it seemed the contest was hardly over, as more of the monsters appeared in the wake of the death of their comrade. Removing his spear from the limp beast that formerly resided upon it, Vlad turned to face the others, a wicked smile upon his lips. He was not facing these out of any thought of calm action, but rather out of extreme annoyance; they had ruined his night so thoroughly, it was only proper that they should suffer for it.

However, it was clear that he was not the only one fighting this night, as a new combatant entered the fray with what seemed to be a barrel of apples. A brow was raised - both in amusement and slight disdain at the waste of fruit - as in strode a very familiar sight, the glow of familiar symbol alerting Vlad to the presence of another servant he had known, a comrade in fact. A smile filled his expression as he took up the bloodied lance alongside the pale haired swordsman.

“A fight is upon us. Your aid is greatly appreciated, but I will not allow you to enjoy it on your own, Saber of Black.”

[geistess-blog]

[impalerofblack-blog]

geistess:

Send me a ☮ for a graphic of your muse’s aesthetic

↬ Lancer of Black

[impalerofblack-blog]

nyxvuur:

For the sake of character development, feel free to ask me anything you would like to know or are unsure of about my muse.

[angstmemes]

Deep Ass Sentence Starters

[impalerofblack-blog]

angstmemes:

“When you think about people who have died, do you picture them anywhere?” “Sometimes it freaks me out that everyone around me has a life as complex and real as my own.” “Do you sometimes suddenly hear your own heartbeat and feel sick because… What if it suddenly stops or something?” “I sometimes just want something really bad to happen to me. Something that’s just really awful. I don’t know why… Do you get that too?” “I can’t stand the thought that I don’t know what’s going to happen to the world in hundreds of years.” “Does thinking about Primary School make you sad, or happy?” “Most pets we keep only become a fraction of our age. Do you think that if they’d know this, they’d call us gods?” “What are you more afraid of, space or the ocean?” “There’s no way anyone can tick everything off their bucket list. We all want too much. It’s frustrating.” “Do you think we’re in control of our lives, generally? Or do you think we just think we are?” “If you knew you were going to die next week, would you tell people or live the way you were till the end?” “I think most people remember the exact moment they realised they were grown up. Because of something said to them, or something they saw… Do you remember that moment?” “One of us is going to die first. Do you think we’ll still know each other to find out who?” “Do you think we’re all capable of murder when it comes down to it?” “I’m so afraid of the moment you know you’re going to die.” “Are there things people have said to you that have legitimately changed you?” “Why do people fear losing things that they don’t even have yet?” “How do I know you even have a consciousness? I can’t know.” “What do you think our purpose is?” “What if everything is just a coincidence? For instance: What if gravity doesn’t exist? Everything has just always coincidentally fallen to the ground.” “If nothing else, we at least won the sperm race.” “If you could send a message to the entire world, what would you say in 30 seconds?” “Do you think other people’s judgments motivate us or hold us back?” “If karma was coming back to you, would it help or hurt you?” “Right, we’ve probably had enough alcohol for the rest of the night. We’re getting way too philosophical.”

[impalerofblack-blog]

Random Actions-Edition {Action Starters}

*punches you in the face*

*dips and kisses you*

*hands you an ice cream cone*

*pokes your cheek*

*turns off the lights*

*spills coffee on your lap*

*throws ball at you*

*hands you a bouquet of flowers*

*drops a sandwich in your lap*

*boops your nose*

*hands you a kitten*

*hits you over the head with a book*

*pats your head*

*runs right into you*

*hands you a puppy*

*pours a bucket of water on the floor*

*slams door in your face*

*hands you a gun*

*tosses video game controller at you*

*puts tiara on your head*

*splashes water on your face*

*throws glitter on you*

*hands you a hamster*

*pushes you into a lake*

*ties a bowtie in your hair*

*pushes you against the wall*

*offers you a doughnut*

*puts hand over your mouth*

*smacks you with a shoe*

*slaps you across the face*

[impalerofblack-blog]

selfrighteousruler:

“Deception? Let me speak candidly, Lancer…”

“You may not be a particularly pious man, but I take my duty to Him more seriously than any man you have ever met, I assure you. I would sooner rip out my own tongue than dare to invoke His name without speaking the truth.”

The mirth in his eyes was gone, his tone deadly serious and emitting from lips that no longer smiled. This man dared to question his devotion? This man dared to presume that he would invoke his Lord’s name in vain? He could feel the mask slipping, righteous anger filling his limbs…but no, he remained composed. It would not do to allow his own feelings to get in the way of his ultimate goal. The evils of the world would be wiped clean, and gaining access to the Grail once again was only the first step he would have to take.

“I will warn you once, and never again…do not question my devotion to HIm. I will grant your wish, Lancer, and I will do so without sullying your grand name.”

After all…with all the evils of the world stripped away, what dark corners would the legend of Dracula have left to hide in? He would see it washed away with all the rest of humanity’s fears. Satisfied that his warning would be remembered, Shirou extended his hand towards the Servant once again and began to intone the ancient words that bonded a Servant and Master. Having no need to summon the Servant, he instead skipped straight to the making of the pact.

“Heed my words. My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail’s call and obey my will and reason, then answer me. Do so, and I will entrust my destiny to your sword.”

Command seals glowing across his chest and hands, all that needed to be done now was for Vlad to reach out and accept the pact.

Despite Kotomine’s apparent anger, the smile on the servant’s face did not fade. If nothing else, he drew further mirth from the fact that he had found something that could actually gain a reaction from the masked visage of this frustratingly obstinate individual. However, it was made clear that making such a retort in the future would be unwise - there were lines that were better left uncrossed. Yet, the strength and devotion of his words lead Vlad to question, even consider the proposition he was granted, rather than write it off as a foolish plot in a world that would disregard it.

There was more to this man than met the eye, more than just the schemer that Vlad had believed him to be. His words held a great strength to them, a deep conviction that defied Vlad’s expectations on every front he had expected. He couldn’t tell if this angered or pleased him, his emotions annoyingly undecided on the factor, but in the end only one thing was apparent; he wanted to understand this man, to come to terms with whom this individual is, this Kotomine Shirou. It was instinct, a desire, that he would not refuse himself. What did he have to lose in this world after all?

As the command seals upon the man before him glowed, the prince could only laugh. He would certainly not lack for entertainment in this world at the very least. Teeth were bared in a wicked smile as he extended his hand outward in acceptance of the pact that was offered. Whether or not the Grail war was coming, he knew for certain, that Kotomine Shirou had big plans in store for this world, and he wanted to witness it all first hand. And if, along the way, his greatest desire could be granted, then it would be clear that the choice he made this day was the correct one...

“I hereby swear, thy offering shall be my flesh, Kotomine Shirou.”

[impalerofblack-blog]

Right to the Lance

[impalerofblack-blog]

scxthach:

{ ᚸ } –– Like moths to a flame, people of like type were bound to fine one another. Even from the darkness that he intended to clothe himself in she could tell what sort of beast he was. A lifetime doing battle with such as he made him easy to pick out in a crowded area. His thirst for battle was palpable, so much so that she felt it sliding against her skin like the warm fur of a predator. Engaging in a crowded area would not do at all.

Knowing that he would follow her she went to a far less crowded area, far away from the bustle of powerless people that inhabited the city. There he stood beneath the flickering street lamps, every bit the bestial presence she had sensed beforehand. So eager was he, yet she matched him only in bestial aura. With most of her back to him she half turned and gazed upon him with divine red eyes.

“I knew to expect other Servants to be within the city, but that one would find me so quickly…” Slowly she turned towards him so that he had her full attention. Thick, long hair framed a toned body accustomed to moving quicker than her enemies. He seemed intent on fighting her and testing those reflexes she had honed.

With her hand grasping the wooden spear she was given upon arrival, it spun deftly in her hands until she held it horizontal in front of her, showing it to him in full. “Pray tell, how do you suppose we fight in such a state? This flimsy excuse for a weapon will break after but one parry from a Servant of fellow capability. I see not how this enables either of our battlelust.”

Ravenous eyes were kept focused upon her with an almost unnerving focus. To test his abilities, he needed one who could match them, which inevitably left one of his own class to do so. But simply because they were of the same class did not mean that they were truly equal, and thus he judged, as only one of his stature could. He judged her from her stature, to her beauty, to her words, and so on, and aside from her dismissive stance on the nature of their duel, she had not left him wanting yet. 

“So easily discouraged? A master of the lance should not be limited by their weaponry, should they not? Speed and precise strikes are what we seek, the lance more a tool to that end, rather than a necessity. Not such like the honor-bound sabers who must adhere to their own code, or the great oafs known as Berserkers, lumbering about.”

A quiet chuckle passed through his lips as his own weapon spun between his fingers, a deft touch carrying it through its rotations in the air, before it finally settled firmly within his grasp. Mirroring her actions, he lifted it so that she might see he was no different than her in regards of weaponry. The only difference now would be of their individual skill.

“A simple contest, then. The first to draw blood or render the enemy’s weapon unusable, shall be the victor. Surely, this would be agreeable, no?”

[impalerofblack-blog]

carosvojuvac:

“Assassin of Red, you say? Hmmm, that is quite interesting. Perhaps I may one day behold her beauty for myself.”

“You would not be amiss in doing so, but I would be wary as to where her hands wander. Her touch has been known to be quite venomous.”

[impalerofblack-blog]

carosvojuvac:

“Now now, no need to quarrel. At the very least we can all agree that our sense of fashion far surpasses that of Assassin’s.”

“This is true, should you not count the Assassin of Red. Her attire was fair in all aspects. Indeed she was quite the beauty.”

[impalerofblack-blog]

prince-of-knights replied to your post:“Fashion is not simply a matter of expression; it...

“…Maybe hes born with it?…”

Maybe it’s...no, he’s actually born with it.

[impalerofblack-blog]

“Fashion is not simply a matter of expression; it is also a question of class. Many of you would do well to learn from your betters of such.”

[impalerofblack-blog]

selfrighteousruler:

Shirou, expecting the Lancer’s answer, simply nodded as he spoke. Yes…he had never truly expected to be able to win Vlad to his side with something as simple as gilded words and empty promises. No…if he desired more than friendship from the man, if he desired true loyalty…he would need to offer him something that he couldn’t turn down, an opportunity that had been stolen from him.

And he knew the exact thing to offer.

“A chance lost for both him and yourself…but what if I were to say that I could grant you that chance once again? The chance to make your wish upon the Grail, and erase forever the bloody stain that has marred your noble name? Lancer…I never desired to stand in opposition to you and yours. I merely desire to see the Grail grant a wish worth granting, a true desire worthy of that omnipotent vessel.”

Placing one arm behind his back and extending the other towards Vlad III, Shirou Kotomine smiled even wider. The bait had been cast…it was time to set the hook.

“Lancer of Black…no, Vlad III of Wallachia. In due time, I shall bring forth the Holy Grail into this world, and the Great Holy Grail War shall begin again. However…this time, I would ask that you stand at my side. I will gather the Servants of this place, summon forth the Grail, and lead those who stand beside me to victory. This, I swear in the name of my Lord.”

For a moment, the smiling features of Vlad turned cold, eyes narrowing in deep suspicion of the male opposite to him. Such potent promises could never be met without a price, and in the case of Shirou Kotomine, deciphering that price could be just as harrowing as actually enacting it. He did not doubt that it could be done; it was whether or not it was truly worth acting alongside this, disturbingly, unknown variable. Such thoughts were quickly hidden away with a laugh, as Vlad let a moment pass before responding.

“You truly are one of the gilded tongue. In the name of your Lord, you say? Were I more pious man, I would rip the very tongue out of your mouth for using in name in such a deception! So vile and wretched you must be to speak of such temptation, akin to the devil himself! Fortunately for you, I am of the same ilk, my workings as a devil well known. Very well, Kotomine. I will cooperate, not for you, but for myself. My tarnished name haunts me even in this world. Speak and you will find my aid at your side.”

“But let it be known, that should you not be able to accomplish what you have promised, I will show you my ferocity in all its cruelty. Not the bestial nature of Dracula, but of Vlad Tepes, Son of the Dragon.”

[fategrandorder]

[impalerofblack-blog]

Of Vile Company

[impalerofblack-blog]

utatai:

There was a precarious noise that emanated from the front door downstairs. It creaked open cautiously, yet not quiet enough to go unnoticed by the intoner who was lazily askew on one of the beds upstairs. A scrunch of her nose accompanied her confused expression as she moved to investigate the cause.

The loud stomping of her footsteps was not masked in any way as she moved down the hall upstairs. Within moments the white clad female was standing atop the banister, glowering down to whomever dare enter the foyer. “Eh…?” 

Single eye scanned the man up and down, her silence acting as her intimidation. Whoever this bearded jizz lord was, he has some measure of balls walking in here like this. Hand placed on her hip, her other would lift to rest on the railing. Eyes closed as she inhaled aggressively, beginning to make heavy steps down the staircase. A loud exhale, before she opened her eyes, and canted her head.

Wait, why did she seem so calm now? 

As she met the last step she would continue walking towards the trespasser in silence.  When she got within a suitable distance she would look up at him, her voice beginning as pleasant. “Oh, I see you have entered my house…”

Eyebrows knitted as she would quickly move her metal arm to grasp this fuckstain by the collar. “What the fuck are you doing in here?!”

It looked just as deserted from within as it did from outside. At some point, recently as well, this building was being maintained by someone. Either that particular person had moved on from this world, or this home had a new resident who didn’t show nearly as much care for it as the former. Vlad was willing to assume it was the first, until his attention was pulled away.

From above, Vlad could hear the steps of someone approaching, his eyes following the resident by the sound of their less than pleasant footsteps. When she appeared, he found his gaze widen slightly; she was quite beautiful aside from an interesting protrusion extending from her right eye, and a notably mechanical arm. He had known about prosthetic limbs thanks to the work of the Grail, but flowers sprouting from one’s eye was certainly not something he had learned about.

Now she had come to greet him, but before he could even probably respond to her first bit of speech, he found himself caught in her grasp, eyes widening in surprise. The last thing he had expected was to be assaulted for his curiosity here, at least physically. Yet, the unexpected turn of events did not frighten him, nor did the wrath of this particular woman. If anything, he was pleased with himself for finding someone of such an interesting nature, and the smile on his face expressed just that.

“Exploring, wandering about, however which way you’d like to say it. I came across this lovely home and wished to inspect it for myself. I didn’t believe anyone truly lived here. Your home was unlocked and unguarded, so I assumed it was abandoned. Or perhaps, there was someone in here was hoping to be discovered. Which is true?”