T-Rⁿ/MoE is an interactive Type-Moon roleplay forum dedicated to all works of the Nasuverse. Rather than one work we pride ourselves on encompassing facets of multiple works of the Nasuverse. It is composed of Fate/Stay Night, Tsukihime, Kara No Kyoukai, and more.
To create a multi-story universal themed experience is our goal. The choices are not just relegated to Masters and Servants, but an infinite realm of possibilities including Dead Apostles, Ghost Liners and many other beings. You can even choose a mere mortal. So, prepare to enter the world of the unpredictable but always exciting Nasuverse, where you can free your mind to extreme possibilities.
Abandon hope all who may enter this world.
Join us for the adventure of a lifetime to shake the very foundation of your beliefs and ideals to it's very core. What will you do with the chance for ultimate power?
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Type-Moon, Fate/Stay Night, Tsukihime, and Kara no Kyoukai are works of Kinoko Nasu - Type - Rⁿ/Möbius of Echelon (T-Rⁿ/MoE) will not claim to own the titles, characters, or information cited within their works as their own ideas.
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Type - Rⁿ/Möbius of Echelon is an interactive, member-based, Fate/Stay Night and Tsukihime roleplay forum.
Chuckling at his youthful landlord's little repartee, he was the last to depart to his quarters. This day had brought him a new acquiaintance, in time, perhaps, a new friend, and one or two paradoxes to tinker in his head.
Saito had not managed to tell him about this... investigative agency in their first set of confessions towards each other, though it did not seem to be something he had been hiding, considering the easy way he had revealed it to him, even if it was while he was talking about it to someone else. Perhaps it was just a skip of the mind; after all, one does not always connect 'supernatural detective work' with 'supernatural creature suppression', and the latter was what he had approximated to be his job before he lost his memories (and sometimes, even now). He wondered if he could tag along to meet this Touko-san when they did... although it might just be another dead-end, and he might be intruding. Perhaps he'll ask to go in a different time...
There was also his theory of how Desmond had not become vampire food, which required a third party... and he fell asleep, pondering many tangents, wondering if they would cross the path he was looking for, the path he had tread.
So it was that, a little uncharacteristically, he was the last to slumber, and the last to wake.
He entered the room, yawning, a hand firmly clasped to cover an absurdly open mouth. "Hngaaaa..." he stumbled in, not at all looking as stately and mysterious as he sometimes had the capacity to be. He had overheard a bit of the exchange of the two, but he did not manage to enter the proverbial stage immediately. "Mr. Faraday, you were the one who screamed, that you were? This one thought it must be a parting bit from a nightmare, that this one thinks... though this one is not sure if my dream was completely horrendous, that it is..."
"Ah, excuse this one... good morning to the two of you, that it is." he cheerily crammed, as he was wont to do. "Pancakes?" Their newest tenant was doing something in the kitchen, he observed, whisking something... was that how pancakes were made? He wondered how they could turn flat after they were mixed around like that... well, maybe just watching would benefit him more than asking, and so he did mostly that. "Anything this one can help in, that this one could?"
Of course he did not know the exact inventory of Saito's place, but maybe he could make himself useful. And... "Father? Mr. Faraday lived in a monastery?" That part did not seem to be discussed yesterday... perhaps it was earlier when he was not privy to the conversation?
A thousand years too late. X.X I hope this is okay. Sorry if Rem's bringing so much up, when we're trying to end the thread X.X
"If your definition of sleeping well includes abruptly waking up from a very nice dream from your insane screaming, then yes. I did sleep well. Thank you very much, sir," Saito replied with snark evident in each word as he rubbed his eyes tiredly with his thumb, index, and middle fingers.
He blinked experimentally as the trio retreated away from his eyes with the residue of eye wax and salty tears. Slowly and carefully he shuffled his feet to look around the already familiar layout of the clinic/house. The sunlight irritated his eyes as he looked up from a nearby window, forcing him to retreat back into the safety of the much darker interior.
Pancakes. It has already been almost a few weeks since his last sampling of the dish. Ever since his arrival in Japan, each morning has been the daily layout of the traditional Japanese breakfast. Today was the day when he thought he could break such a monotonous pattern with something else. But certainly pancakes weren't something he would've thought of. Then again, he wasn't so much of a cook to begin with.
It definitely seems as if having these foreign people as tenants for the clinic was starting to pay off.
"I don't eat blueberries," he bluntly answered Desmond tiredly, "That stuff tastes sour. I got strawberries though. On the bottom drawer in the fridge. Over there."
Taking up one index finger, the onmyouji jabbed it towards the direction of where the strawberries were in the large appliance. Right below where the vegetables were being stored. As he gestured the foreigner where the box of fruits were located, he could hear Remiel arriving from behind, already asking a question that has already been asked. But in another manner.
"Morning, Remiel," he greeted his other tenant with a grin at the sight of the silver-head making his arrival into the kitchen. But then his attention was directed towards the early blooming discussion of religion that had impact on Desmond's life.
OOC: Short post, I apologize. I couldn't think of anything else atm. Oh by the way, I think they're called pastors. Not Fathers. That's something for the Catholic church, I'm sure.
"Aye, apologies for that mate. Bit of a fright in the night, I'm afraid. Odd, I must admit. Haven't truly recalled a dream of mine in quite a while now that I think about it." Not wishing to dwell on the thought of seeing Rico again, even if it was a mere dream, Desmond shook off the thoughts of it. As he made his way to the crisper, he heard the chime of Saito's greetings announcing the awakening of tenant number one. "Mornin' to you too, friend. Yes, I had a wee bit of a scare." An understatement, obviously, given the intensity of the scream his vocal cords seemed to announce.
Finding the strawberries, his face coiled in distaste as he gazed upon them. "Ahh... friend, I hope ya weren't plannin' on eatin' these little red devils anytime soon... as they ain't very red anymore..." Raising his hand out from behind the refrigerator door, he revealed a fuzzy, green mass that he delicately held by the leaves. Making his way to the trash, he disposed of the moldy strawberries with eager haste. "Not exactly something you'd like to find in a clinic, friend. Health and safety will have your arse on a pike for somethin' as nasty as that." Then again, they probably wouldn't be going through his refrigerator for the clinic inspection, but he's seen stranger.
Closing the refrigerator door, he began to turn away towards the rather plain batter when a thought crossed his mind. Doubling back, he opened the freezer in the lower compartment of the machine to attempt to find any bacon. He protruded out of it half a package."Well, friend, if ya wish to help you could fry up this sucker for us." Tossing it to Remiel, he closed the freezer then made his way back to the batter. As the pan heated up, Remiel inquired about his past. "Ahh, yes, for a wee while I was a bit of a monk. But I doubt you wanna here about that."
I was going to make this a bit longer but as I was writing it some immense pain just channeled through my back out of nowhere
[smear:E9CB95]Aye, Friend... [/smear:9B6D2D]
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Template made by: [smear:BF8F00]JohnRevanTitor + Kotomine Kirei + Lunactic Inferno[/smear:805F00]@ Blue Heaven/Aoiro Joukai
He rubbed his eyes for one last time, and seemed grateful enough for the presence and greetings of his two... well, friends might be too assuming, but he would want them to be that, certainly.
Frying, huh? Well, it was called a frying pan, and they were called pancakes... Ooooh, this one sees, that this one does. Well, he might yet be mistaken, since it seemed that what his neighbor wanted him to fry was... bacon. He'd heard of it, and while he may not have cooked it before, he reckoned it would probably be similar to how other meats were fried.
He might be amnesiac, but he'd been in a handful of households already, and housewives liked to tell of their exploits just as much as any... specialist was wont to do. Picking up the slotted turner from its place in Saito's kitchen, as well as the cooking oil, he guessed he was pretty much set. The last time he did this went well enough, and the last time things blew up for him in a culinary setting was a fair while ago... and he'd improved, he'd like to think. After all, frying was required in certain part-time jobs.
Frowning a little at Faraday's assessment of the strawberries (he liked blueberries, and were a little sad they were not available... and he liked strawberries, and were a little sad they were not edible), he proceeded to apply himself to his impromptu assigned task. He turned on the stove. He spread a very small amount of the oil on the skillet and replaced the oil's container where he found it, waiting for the heat to rise. This would be a good time to return to the discussion, he surmised.
"A story is a story, that it is. As for this one, most stories are things this one wishes to hear, that they are." he pronounced, as he measured the temperature of the air above the pan with his palm, the height of which he had dubbed the 'heat pillar', although he did not tell that to most people. "If Mr. Faraday is not inclined to tell, this one is all right with that too, that this one is." Of course, it was implied that, well, Remiel was curious.
"Everyone has plans for the day, that everyone has?" he asked, in what he estimated to be a casual manner. He found some interesting part-time jobs in the newspaper yesterday...
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