Holy Templar Sanctum (Aincrad)

[Bloodedge]

"Headpats for Roland? Sounds like a surefire way to become just like all the others. Or, maybe not. I dunno how that thing of his works; I just know how to deal with it!" Astolfo rambled. He wasn't sure what the specifics were on his cousin's curse, but it didn't matter to him so long as it could be overcome when necessary. Naturally, Astolfo would always make an effort to bring the maddened Roland back to his senses... whenever he finished laughing at the other male.

His mention of their ascent to the 98th floor was met with questions. Mostly, Janessa thought more of an explanation was necessary. Why? Astolfo didn't think they needed to know anything more than that. Charlemagne was going to be an emperor, and the whole of his Party was to live on the 98th floor as a result. Details weren't that important, right? Astolfo seemed beyond confused at the idea of mentioning more─ especially since he could hardly remember what he told them in the first place. "What? Why? We're getting an upgrade! We're in the first Holy Emperor's Party! Go, go! Get all your stuff and go upstairs, it's going to be great!" he insisted. As for why he was so insistent upon the greatness of this situation, well... upgrades were always nice, right? "Don't make me use Astolfo Hypnotism to make you get a move on!"

[Apollymi]

According to Astolfo headpats for Roland would land Olivier in the same situation as other women. The thought of that made the blue eyed lass laugh, almost hysterically. "Hahaha~ I doubt it. We grew up together, and I have no problem chaining him up or making him furniture," said Olivier. She was all about keeping everyone under control, her best friend Roland included. She might have found it strange that his supposed curse never had him fawning all over her, but she figured she wasn't really his type, not that he actually appeared to have much of a type to start with...

Astolfo seemed not to understand the reservations in the minds of these two young women. A quick shifting of eyes occurred between the pair of them as they came to a certain conclusion. Strangely, given the situation, neither wanted to be the one to bring up the particulars here and now. "Upgrades are good yes, it just seems a bit out of nowhere, ya' know?" asked Janessa. Even so, she would prepare, because like the others she'd follow Charlemagne wherever he wished to go, apparently it was currently floor 98. Olivier could only laugh at the potential threat of the use of Astolfo hypnotism. "Well that is all fine and dandy but obviously I am still working right now," she said with a gentle gesture towards her sunken chair. She hadn't heard nor assessed his confession yet, so she couldn't up and leave either. Janessa for her part in this seemed to follow along enough to not think about it too much. "The only thing Astolfo Hypnotism will get you is bitten~" she claimed with her nose turned up in the air. She wasn't a blood lust filled vampire or anything. She had decency and restraint, so long as there were no outside influences. Astolfo was definitely an outside influence. "So give us a few minutes to work and then we'll pack up and go up with you, how about it?" asked Olivier who was reaching over to remove the gag from the mouth of her victim. Surely he had something to say by now. "I did it. I sold my party in to slavery while we were out and returned with a made up story. I didn't think anyone would find out... " that confession was rather quick and Olivier looked down at the man who had spilled his guts so easily. Maybe Astolfo could actually be used as part of torture. "Just kill me. I know you don't want me. I know what I did was wrong. I confess to everything!" the man was so exasperated but he was being truthful, this was a matter of certainty for Olivier. "That wasn't so hard now was it?" she asked him as she finally stood up seeming to have given up her chair for a reason. She gave a gentle nod to Janessa. "Hm, with Astolfo here, I am not actually inclined to drink such a downgrade... do you mind if I do it the quick way?" she asked. "Executioner's choice." Ah what a strange scene this was morphing into... All the while that poor man basically flatted himself into the floor. Even the vampire didn't think him worth a drink. Obviously he was scum.

[Bloodedge]

When Olivier spoke of chaining Roland and using him as furniture, Astolfo's head tilted. She so easily admitted to something that would make many grown men run if they knew her capacity... though many more grown men would throw themselves into the opportunity. "Hmm yeah, not helping! He'd love it eventually, even if he isn't throwing himself at you from the start. And why does Astolfo not get chained and objectified?! Hmm?! All I got was a headlock and a noogie! You hate me, don't you?!" The lad seemed outraged─ at least, his tone did. Visually, he hadn't changed a bit. Such was always Astolfo, sauntering about with no concerns and... maybe half a brain on a good day. Today was a good day.

The women's reactions to their apparent relocation were strange. Astolfo couldn't fathom why they weren't both over the moon about the upgrade. Maybe they were both mentally tapped for the day or something. Either way, he was not beyond using whatever 'Astolfo Hypnotism' was to get them moving. Olivier's work didn't have to take very long at all, and Janessa... "And? Isn't that what happens anyway?" the lad questioned.

Lo and behold, the "few minutes" they needed to get ready wasn't even a single minute, at least not of Olivier's torture. Once she removed the gag from her victim, he nearly told his life story. "That didn't even take a few minutes! He just spilled every bean in France; kill him and let's go!" he exclaimed.

[Apollymi]

Astolfo's lack of logic was showing in a moment like this. He claimed that Roland would eventually come to like the kind of treatment that Olivier typically gave criminals and those who misbehaved. And he seemed to be upset that in his own words he wasn't being 'chained' and 'objectified'. A look of surprise crossed the face of the blue eyed woman as she scoffed at his accusation. "Firstly, you don't need discipline nor are you in need of being humbled, so obviously I wouldn't. Such kind behavior from me is a sign that you are good not that I don't like you," she said with her nose turned up in the air. The nerve of him to want the kind of punishment she typically dished out to the masses. He should appreciate that she spoiled him the way she did, perhaps he'd end up punished for being an ingrate? Ah whatever it didn't really matter.

She'd abandoned her chair and it seemed that Janessa was content enough to kill the man quickly. A magical cross appeared before him and planted itself in the ground and he was lifted, via blood magic onto it. Multple small incisions nailed him with blood to the object while little whimpers and screams escaped him and then Janessa's hands began tracing up his ribs. This was not remotely sexual she was counting. "Make your peace," she said in this moment. The man took a deep breath and before he could even speak her narrow little hand slid between his fourth and fifth ribs, the six inches of her palm traveled straight to his heart and shredded it. His death was mostly painless and instanteous which is more than could be said for the victims he sold into slavery. He bleed out into a drain and then just as quickly as everything else had happened the cross disappeared and his body was left arms crossed over his chest on the floor with a sheet being placed over him. "Alright. Alright... All done. Let's pack it up," mentioned Janessa.

Olivier also began walking towards the door. "Alright alright to the 98th floor," she said seeming a bit less enthusiastic than one might be. She was still sharing those casual glances with Janessa, wondering what all Astolfo hadn't been told. If Olivier remembered correctly, she'd last seen him when Jeanne d'Arc went off in search of the missing Albion. That meant that it'd likely been more than a thousand years, he couldn't know of the changes which happened shortly after that. Whatever the case, they'd begin packing but what else was going on with the Peers of Charlemagne?

[Bloodedge]

Astolfo didn't need discipline or humbling. He wasn't a villain, he wasn't a criminal, and he wasn't a sinner. None of that made a single difference. "Blah! Well you're not doing me any favors by leaving me out of the loop! How do you know I don't need to be tortured, huh? I haven't been made to confess for all my wrongdoing!" Astolfo was very insistent upon there being some sort of reason for his punishment. Obviously, it was in Olivier's best interest to acquiesce at some point, for whatever reason she had in the end.

That poor, broken man in the middle of an execution at least knew some pleasantries before his final moments. Maybe that did include having Astolfo's monstrous crotch rubbed against his face to ruin the whole experience, but he was a criminal! Clearly a non-criminal like Astolfo himself was entitled to the same treatment without the random cock to the face... and perhaps without the crucifixion and immediate heart-destruction from Janessa. In seeing that, Astolfo probably should have been concerned... but was he? No. "Yay! He's dead, now let's go already!" the male shouted while skipping his way toward the exit. A great deal of things were ahead of the group. For Astolfo alone, perhaps that list included being Olivier's practice dummy and... Janessa's dinner? Yeah, that sounded about right.

What else was going on with the group of peers? On the 75th floor, aptly named "Collinia", there were at least four members of the Party. One was a tall, red-haired male in ornate armor. He wielded a massive, burning flamberge against a man of more average height. The second male was platinum blonde, fully clad in more normal armor, and wielded a sword that somehow held off the massive blade of his opponent. Meanwhile, one man taller than the others by more than a full head observed their struggle from the edge of a colosseum they all inhabited. The third male was an elf with armor that exposed his shoulders. His hair was sleek, silver with natural purple highlights. "They don't seem to be making much progress at all. How many days have they been at it now?" he asked another comrade. The elf had only recently returned to the colosseum. As long as these two had been fighting, he wasn't going to sit around and watch for eternity.

[Apollymi]

How did Olivier know that someone like Astolfo didn't need to be tortured? Well, the basics of it was that he didn't trigger any of her natural instincts. That was a rather rare quality that many children didn't possess, given this she was sure he didn't require torture. So, what would she do... "Torture is different for everyone, maybe niceness is yours? Or maybe the right tactics don't exist yet~" she mused. Surely so as not to leave a friend out she'd eventually figure out a way to make him feel included without compromising her own ideals. Of course, Janessa had similar problems and a few more. Here and now, it probably would have been more concerning that she killed a man with no remorse and no one in this room with her cared that she had. She used to feel very bad about being the Executioner and now she'd become quite desensitized to it. "Yeah yeah, let's get out of here," said Janessa as she tried not to think too much about the creepy aspects of moving into the 98th Floor.

In the meantime, Bradamante was making her way to floor 75. She wasn't quite to the colosseum yet, but she would be shortly. And while the tall lad stood off to the side, a young blonde woman with her hair up in a ponytail also watching the on going sparring match between Roland and Renaud. The tall young man wondered how many days these two had been at it, and there would only be a small voice to tell him the number. "Four. Give or take. Apparently, the more evenly matched individuals could go for a week or so before a winner would be determined, or so the old tales say," she said. She'd once heard that a war between two kings had taken eight days and nights before a singular victor was determined. But that kind of endurance seemed inhuman at best. Her skepticism said it was more more likely just assigned a number for the sake of asserting virility or some such thing. Whatever the case, Bradamante entered the colosseum to the sound of clashing swords. "Wooah! They look really into it. Oh? And you guys are here too! That saves so much trouble! Hey! Rey, Lando? Take a breather would ya' I have news!" she claimed.

[Bloodedge]

In the colosseum, the tall male heard a few choice words from his female companion. The greatest warriors could allegedly battle for a week when evenly-matched? He heard something of the sort in recent weeks, and he couldn't really call himself surprised after his own final battle before joining this group. "That's not too astounding. My fight with Olivier took a couple of days at least, so I could see the more monstrous warriors fighting for longer. Some people have no sense of stamina limitations," he commented.

In the midst of their observation, another of their comrades arrived. Bradamante, one of the more generally appreciated of the peers, appeared to comment on the ongoing battle. Regrettably, she called out to the combatants who were far too busy being at each other's throats to register her words. Swords clashed, sparks flew, and no amount of acknowledgment came Bradamante's way. Well... some did, but it was from the elf instead. "Give it a rest. They've been at it for days; they won't hear your voice. What's the news?" he wondered while watching tongues of flame dance around the fighters. Perhaps the battle would reach a natural end soon, or perhaps things were just ramping up... again.

[Apollymi]

"That says a lot about both of your strengths," said the blonde knight whose eyes only shifted at the approach of Bradamante. Well, the two men fighting were her brother and cousin, her appearance here wasn't truly strange. Even so, her desire to stop them before they reached their natural lull was a bit strange. It would be the tall man who was first to mention how long the fight had been going on and who tried to quiet the words of the spear wielding blonde lass, but it wouldn't work. This particular woman already knew that. The girl had come with purpose, given that she even bothered trying to get everyone's attention, there would be no peace until she delivered whatever message she'd come here for, "Bradamante, you know they require a more direct approach," she said to the girl.

A scoff escaped the pigtailed lass. "Ugh, I hate getting between them, it always feels like life or death. It's hot and unnecessary," she claimed only to sigh. "But the message is for everyone here and we have to get going so I'd rather not waste unnecessary time on it either," she said seeming to think about it. Only a few seconds later the girl was bouncing on her toes and slapping her facial cheeks as if hyping herself up to do something outlandish. A pair of little angelic wings sprouted from her back and she was concentrating on the battle, looking for the proper opening to interrupt the fight between her older brother and her cousin. "Eh, one of you wanna help out? I'm not in much danger but it'd be in a pain if I caught a hit I didn't see coming," she asked for a favor. Breaking the pair up was imperative.

[Bloodedge]

"If you say so. I think it says just as much about my weakness. By the end of it all, I couldn't bear another few minutes. I have reason to believe Olivier could have continued for a few days longer," he proclaimed. That battle he alluded to had come to an end after a couple of days, but it had done so because he lost. That loss had resulted in his joining of the Templar Order in a roundabout way, but it remained a symbol of the difference between himself and that sadistic woman. "Being useful requires being powerful. I still have a lot of work to do. Maybe I'll take next," he said about the ongoing battle.

Moving on, Bradamante had news that she apparently wouldn't share with less than the full group. To make that desire a reality, she thought to interject in the literally heated battle taking place. The tall male sighed. It would be irresponsible to let her jump in alone, and lo, Bradamante asked if one of the observers wished to help her. "I don't necessarily agree with this, but I'd be lying if I said there were another way. I'll take care of the heat before it becomes too much."

After taking a deep breath, the elf materialized a large lance with a tip that glowed with holy wind. A shroud of mana that was almost tangible stemmed from said lance as he leapt forward, pointing his weapon toward the sky above both fighters. While the red-haired male named Renaud was charging with his massive, flaming blade, a mighty spiral of wind was made overhead to suck in all the flames. By this intervention, the one called Roland was able to more easily parry that giant weapon. It was then that Roland was intending to spin on one foot, using the other to kick out at Renaud's face. If uninterrupted, Renaud would be left with a jaw that... wasn't quite properly aligned anymore. . .

[Apollymi]

This normally quiet woman gave a bit of consideration to his statement. What she knew of Olivier was that her endurance was on par with someone like Renaud. Given that, a couple of days probably wasn't enough to completely wear her down at all. Even so, the fact that he hadn't simply been captured said quite a bit about his strength and character. No matter his reasons, he'd joined this group and he had a decent amount of power to show for his work. Continued effort would only help and never hurt. "If you take next, Renaud is most likely to give you the sort of challenge you received from Olivier," she suggested. That wasn't a thing to be negatively said about Roland, it was simply how she measured the pair of men.

Too bad that eventuality wasn't coming to fruition at this point in time. No. Because Bradamante needed all of their attention for some large scale announcement. It seemed that the newest addition to their group was willing to help out and a gentle nod would escape their silent friend. "I'll leave it to you two," she said. Watching as a very interesting maneuver was performed by the elf. Beyond that... Bradamante shot herself forward during the commotion, taking up her spear against Roland. In doing so a rather abrupt strike was aimed about the center of his chest. If uninterrupted he would find himself likely on his butt without much of an explanation how he got there. "Hello, earth to meatheads. I have news about our leader and we need to get moving. Jeez, do you go deaf when you fight?!" she questioned in a most exasperated way. Of course, she didn't blame them for enjoying their battles, but they could be at least a bit more conscious of their surroundings. What was more, the tall man had indeed kept his word, not even a hair on her head was a little bit burned by the fires coming off her brother's weapon.

[Bloodedge]

Roland had a few expectancies for his ongoing assault. Of the things he thought could happen, suddenly being launched away by something he hadn't previously seen was not among them. Bradamante's lance collided with his torso. Through the air he went, until he was sliding along dirt in a seated position. Roland didn't seem to be very inconvenienced by this, though his face bore an expression of shock as the girl called his, and Renaud's attention. "Woah! Sorry, but you should know there was no room for distractions. I'd have lost my head without paying full attention to the fight," Roland said.

At the same time, Renaud's charge had come to an end shortly after realizing his flames were being absorbed. It was a bit easier for him to find a break in combat and have an open ear for Bradamante. Of course, he was also the most used to her presence. Renaud was not caught unawares by her arrival at all, as a matter of fact. Part of him had been hoping she'd enter the fight fully when pulling that little stunt. "Don't be stupid. You'd have lost your head in a few seconds while paying attention," the red-haired male said with a confident grin on his face. Casually lifting that sword onto his shoulder as if the gargantuan thing weighed nothing, he stepped forward and looked toward Bradamante. "What news about our leader? Is he dead? Dibs on whoever killed him, if so~"

[Apollymi]

Roland the man who was her cousin apologized. He always did, claiming he needed to absolutely concentrate to keep from losing his head. Of course, Renaud also had commentary which claimed that the other man would have lost his head regardless. In a moment like this Bradamante stood with her hands on her hips seemingly annoyed by the entire situation. "Ugh, pay attention to both your surroundings and your opponent, Lando," she said while preparing to give her spiel. Only she heard the rest of what her brother had to say and simply scoffed. "Of course he's not dead. We, that being me, Astolfo, Anais and Charlemagne just got back from our mission," she started explaining leaving out lesser details because she knew how her brother was. "And the Holy Father has taken an interest in him. Apparently, Charlemagne is first in line to be Holy Emperor," she said. "And that little upgrade comes with us, as in all members of his party, moving to Floor 98," she explained.

Of course, there was a lot of superstition around floor 98. Though Bradamante and Roland weren't old enough to have known the Holy Maiden turned heretic. They'd still been around long enough to hear whispers about her now and again. It seemed in bad taste to Bradamante herself to move into that one's old floor but she couldn't deny the goodness of Charlemagne. "So, basically pack up. We're moving!" she said knowing that the group should be gathering to go to their next place. The blonde haired young woman who'd been observing before had moved close enough to hear the announcement and she was a bit stunned. That seemed to be quite an interesting turn of events, but she supposed she had no problem with moving, nor did she find their leader to be unworthy of praise. It was just a bit odd that someone was about to occupy a floor which hadn't seen real occupation in a millennia at best. "Are we sure that place isn't in ruins?" she asked in an off-handed manner.

[Bloodedge]

Obviously, Bradamante hadn't spent a great deal of time fighting her own brother. "Utterly impossible in some cases, I'm afraid," was all Roland said. Naturally, Renaud could only agree. If he was given even an inch of leeway, someone's head or limb would go flying in a heartbeat. Roland's head would have been gone within moments of that kick, even at the sacrifice of Renaud's jaw. Maybe he should have done it anyway; that would have made up for the disappointment he was soon to know.

Bradamante brought information about Charlemagne, yet it didn't involve his death. What a shame. "No new big boss then, huh? Then this wasn't worth interrupting practice," said Renaud. Ah, but there was something interesting to take note of. Charlemagne was receiving some type of acknowledgment from the Holy Father. Such acknowledgment involved the young man's Party being housed on Floor 98. That was just below the Holy Princess' place of residence, as he recalled. Such prestige was sure to bring challengers into their midst. "Sounds fine I guess. There's nothing left down here anyway," the redhead declared. The blonde observer took issue with the potentials of this move, however. One could say the same about the other onlooker, but he had a different reason. "Even if it isn't in ruins, is it even alright for someone to live there? I'm hoping the grounds were consecrated after that heretic was taken out."

[Apollymi]

Bradamante didn't fight her brother a lot, but she knew enough about combat to know that if someone as overwhelming as Renaud was also less upstanding than a knight, then one could easily find themselves at a serious disadvantage. Yes, that was the truth of the matter, life was a complicated thing and she knew that some had to have better instincts than others. "Excuses." Bradamante was quick to snap just a bit.

The whole conversation with Renaud went about the way Bradamante expected. At least she'd gotten the whole of the bit out before anything bad happened. Her brother sh eknew would enjoy the idea of potentially having some new people to face, and beyond that challengers would make their way up. The question of one onlooker concerned the state of the place, the other the potential consecration of the land. Both were interesting points but one of them was a bit insensitive to the situation. "I don't know the state of it, I came straight here after a minor detour. As for the consecration I doubt the Holy Father would allow unconsecrated lands in his space. So, don't mention it," she said. Her words were the truth as she understood it, but that last bit was a warning she wasn't sure any would actually understand. She looked to the tall man and wondered if she should warn him against mention of the heretic unless he truly wanted to have to explain it to someone like Astolfo. If that one didn't know she was sure it was going to go badly, her cousin was many things, but all she ever heard from her extended family was the greatness of the Maid of Orleans and how she looked after a younger Astolfo. "Anyway, we're meeting up there so let's go~" she stated willing to walk off.

At the same time in the Archives, a certain young woman dressed in dark armor sat at a table surrounded by books. She'd been casually reading for ages, with the lass with the Antlers stumbled upon her. She sat across from her at the table. They had a hushed conversation for several moments and then both stood and headed out together. It seemed whatever was said between them, they were both willing to head out to where they were going without any more fuss or wait. Such was the nature of these sorts of people.

[Bloodedge]

Excuses, the young woman said. What a shame. Roland wasn't the sort to make excuses, and he certainly wasn't making one now. Even in practice, he could accidentally find his life in danger against Renaud due to the redhead's barely-hidden bloodlust. "That was no excuse! I'll strip and you'll see how tough it is!" he shouted. Ah, there was an issue Roland suffered. He'd just threatened his own cousin with stripping, which often resulted in him being labeled a pervert. Alas, there was realization. "Wait, why would I strip..." he looped back, shaking his head. With that, he lifted himself from the ground with the help of Renaud's offered hand. Those two were ready to get moving. However...

The elf was not so sure about taking the floor that last belonged to a heretic, mostly because most of their lifetimes didn't even begin until long after that alleged event. He was still relatively new to this religion compared to many of the others. Apparently, he was not to mention the state of Floor 98, as the Holy Father would surely have left it in a blessed state after that age-old debacle. "If you say so. Either way, I suppose I should expect more of Charles. I'll at least go if he's willing to have us all live there," the tall male said. With that, it seemed all three males in the vicinity were ready to depart with some things picked up along the way.

Archbishop Turpin had taken no effort at all to convince. Frankly, he'd been expecting something along these lines, just not so soon. Charlemagne had taken only a few sentences to convince, or even excite him. Turpin then had the joy of moving between one floor and another to locate a few remaining members of their peerage. Meanwhile, Charlemagne himself was rendered without a task and with all the time it would take his comrades to assemble. He didn't want to wait around on the 98th floor for the 1-3 hours he assumed it would take everyone to be found, informed, pack up and all that. That would have been weird. So then, Charlemagne did something he hadn't done in far too long. He visited the 99th floor for the first time in a few decades. He didn't normally go so long without visiting, not by a long shot, but he had a bit of time to stop by now.