Her body armor, and the Sword of Achilles.Irrelevant:
The DaggerNot Pictured:
The Shield of AchillesPersonality:
Achilles is a docile spirit, most of the time. In any general situation, she acts friendly when talked to, but on the whole spends the majority of her time looking around for enemies. The way that she fell in her legend emphasizes this paranoid behavior, but a lazy and/or kind-hearted master could theoretically teach her how to loosen up. Achilles is naive to the ways of the modern world, often speaking old-english and occasionally rambling into fits of greek when irritated. However, she is a quick learner and will more than likely lose a few of her old behaviors over time. Achilles is blunt, and will say what she is thinking and how she feels straight out. She has no restraint when it comes to her emotions, and will therefore do anything and everything to make sure she gets what she wants and survives at the same time. She has a short-temper, but not much can actually irritate her or set her off. Her main point of irritation is technology, as she hates what she can't understand. She, like most servants, insists on following her master everywhere, even if it means potential trouble for the master in question. She gets attached to people easily, but has an odd way of showing her concern for people, more often than not telling the person any hypothetical ways that they could be killed at the present moment as an ice breaker.
When it comes time to battle, Achilles is a focused opponent, using her warrior knowledge and profound combat prowess to take down her opponents, however, if Mad Enhancement becomes enabled, her focus is lost, replaced by a blind and driving rage that takes over all reason and causes her to fight blindly to kill, no strategy involved, just brute force, unthinkable strength, and surprising speed. Thus is the curse of the berserker.
Achilles' reason for wanting to acquire the grail is one she does not share with any, except maybe a trustworthy master, due to the nature of it revealing her true identity. Her wish is a selfish one, as all she really wants is for her one weak point, the Achilles Heel, to no longer be an issue. Instead of having the weakness, she wishes nothing more than to be completely invulnerable, as to avoid another tragedy like the one during her lifetime.Power Levels:
Mana Capacity: ESpecial Abilities: Mad Enhancement, Rank DPersonal Abilities:Natural Body, Rank D
Possesses a perfect body as a living being from birth. The owner of this Skill is treated as if his STR is always Rank-Up.Spells:
N/ANoble Phantasm: Achilles' Heel, Passive Phantasm, Rank C
The Achilles' Heel is the main embodiment of Achilles' power. Her skin, while feeling soft to the touch, is nigh un-pierce-able. No cut, nor slash, nor blunt force can make her bleed or even feel pain. This "invincibility" of hers covers her entire body, except for the heel of her left foot. Even if it's covered by a shoe, if any Noble Phantasm or Spell makes contact with that area, the Achilles' Heel shuts down, and she is open to being cut, bruised, maimed, bled, etc. The only way for her to re-enable this power, is to have a massive amount of mana injected into her by her master at one time.Shield of Achilles, Defensive Phantasm, Rank C
The Shield of Achilles is a one-use-per-fight shield that can be summoned at-will in front of Achilles' left arm. It can block any offensive ability from any noble phantasm, but, as stated above, can only be used once. Unless, of course, the ability in question is designed specifically to pierce the defenses of noble phantasms such as this, in which case the shield will only slow it.
The risk with using this ability, is that the appearance of the shield is incredibly well known across the world, only people who haven't been truly educated throughout their lives wouldn't recognize it. If she uses it, Achilles risks her identity being revealed.Sword of Achilles, Offensive Phantasm, Rank A
The Sword of Achilles is Achilles' weapon of choice, summoned at will in her right hand. It has no special qualities to make its offense greater than that of any other weapon, however, the Sword of Achilles can never be broken. No matter what attack it blocks, or how many hits it dishes out, the sword is as indestructible as its master. However, this indestructibility relies on Achilles' Heel still being active. If that ability is disabled, the sword becomes as fragile as a stick, and can be broken easily. If it is broken, it cannot be re-summoned until Achilles Heel is re-charged.Rage of Achilles, Trigger Ability, Rank B
Achilles' Mad Enhancement is not on permanently, like most in the Berserker class, but is, instead, on a trigger. This trigger is reliant on a combination of Achilles' love of battle, blood lust, and anger. If Achilles feels all three of these things at the same time, Mad Enhancement is triggered, and stays on until the opponent, or Achilles, lies dead on the ground.History:
Achilles was the daughter of the nymph Thetis and Peleus, the king of the Myrmidons. Zeus and Poseidon had been rivals for the hand of Thetis until Prometheus, the fore-thinker, warned Zeus of a prophecy that Thetis would bear a daughter greater than his father. For this reason, the two gods withdrew their pursuit, and had her wed Peleus.
According to the Achilleid, written by Statius in the 1st century AD, and to no surviving previous sources, when Achilles was born Thetis tried to make her immortal by dipping him in the river Styx. However, she was left vulnerable at the part of the body by which she held him, her heel (see Achilles heel, Achilles' tendon). It is not clear if this version of events was known earlier. In another version of this story, Thetis anointed the girl in ambrosia and put her on top of a fire to burn away the mortal parts of her body. She was interrupted by Peleus and abandoned both father and daughter in a rage.
According to the Iliad (Book 16), Achilles arrived at Troy with 50 ships, each carrying 50 Myrmidons. Achilles appointed five leaders (each leader commanding 500 Myrmidons) who were: Menesthius, Eudorus, Peisander, Phoenix and Alcimedon.
When the Greeks left for the Trojan War, they accidentally stopped in Mysia, ruled by King Telephus. In the resulting battle, Achilles gave Telephus a wound that would not heal; Telephus consulted an oracle, who stated that "he that wounded shall heal". Guided by the oracle, he arrived at Argos, where Achilles healed him in order that he became their guide for the voyage to Troy.
According to other reports in Euripides' lost play about Telephus, he went to Aulis pretending to be a beggar and asked Achilles to heal his wound. Achilles refused, claiming to have no medical knowledge. Alternatively, Telephus held Orestes for ransom, the ransom being Achilles' aid in healing the wound. Odysseus reasoned that the spear had inflicted the wound; therefore, the spear must be able to heal it. Pieces of the spear were scraped off onto the wound and Telephus was healed.
According to the Cypria (the part of the Epic Cycle that tells the events of the Trojan War before Achilles' Wrath), when the Achaeans desired to return home, they were restrained by Achilles, who afterwards attacked the cattle of Aeneas, sacked neighboring cities and killed Troilus.
According to Dares Phrygius' Account of the Destruction of Troy, the Latin summary through which the story of Achilles was transmitted to medieval Europe, Troilus was a young Trojan prince, the youngest of King Priam's (or sometimes Apollo) and Hecuba's five legitimate sons. Despite his youth, he was one of the main Trojan war leaders. Prophecies linked Troilus' fate to that of Troy and so he was ambushed in an attempt to capture him. Yet Achilles, struck by the beauty of both Troilus and his sister Polyxena, and overcome with lust directed her sexual attentions on the youth – who refusing to yield found instead himself decapitated upon an altar-omphalos of Apollo. Later versions of the story suggested Troilus was accidentally killed by Achilles in an over-ardent lovers' embrace. In this version of the myth, Achilles' death therefore came in retribution for this sacrilege. Ancient writers treated Troilus as the epitome of a dead child mourned by his parents. Had Troilus lived to adulthood, the First Vatican Mythographer claimed Troy would have been invincible.
Homer's Iliad is the most famous narrative of Achilles' deeds in the Trojan War. The Homeric epic only covers a few weeks of the war, and does not narrate Achilles' death. It begins with Achilles' withdrawal from battle after she is dishonored by Agamemnon, the commander of the Achaean forces. Agamemnon had taken a woman named Chryseis as his slave. Her father Chryses, a priest of Apollo, begged Agamemnon to return her to him. Agamemnon refused and Apollo sent a plague amongst the Greeks. The prophet Calchas correctly determined the source of the troubles but would not speak unless Achilles vowed to protect him. Achilles did so and Calchas declared Chryseis must be returned to her father. Agamemnon consented, but then commanded that Achilles' battle prize Briseis be brought to replace Chryseis. Angry at the dishonor (and as he says later, because he loved Briseis) and at the urging of Thetis, Achilles refused to fight or lead her troops alongside the other Greek forces. At this same time, burning with rage over Agamemnon's theft, Achilles prayed to her mother Thetis to convince Zeus to help the Trojans gain ground in the war, so that she may regain his honor.
As the battle turned against the Greeks, thanks to the influence of Zeus, Nestor declared that the Trojans were winning because Agamemnon had angered Achilles, and urged the king to appease the warrior. Agamemnon agreed and sent Odysseus and two other chieftains, Ajax and Phoenix, to Achilles with the offer of the return of Briseis and other gifts. Achilles rejected all Agamemnon offered her, and simply urged the Greeks to sail home as she was planning to do.
The Trojans, led by Hector, subsequently pushed the Greek army back toward the beaches and assaulted the Greek ships. With the Greek forces on the verge of absolute destruction, Patroclus led the Myrmidons into battle wearing Achilles' armor, though Achilles remained at her camp. Patroclus succeeded in pushing the Trojans back from the beaches, but was killed by Hector before he could lead a proper assault on the city of Troy.
After receiving the news of the death of Patroclus from Antilochus, the son of Nestor, Achilles grieved over her beloved companion's death and held many funeral games in his honor. His mother Thetis came to comfort the distraught Achilles. She persuaded Hephaestus to make a new armor for her, in place of the armor that Patroclus had been wearing which was taken by Hector. The new armor included the Shield of Achilles, described in great detail by the poet.
Enraged over the death of Patroclus, Achilles ended her refusal to fight and took the field killing many men in his rage but always seeking out Hector. Achilles even engaged in battle with the river god Scamander who became angry that Achilles was choking his waters with all the men she killed. The god tried to drown Achilles but was stopped by Hera and Hephaestus. Zeus himself took note of Achilles' rage and sent the gods to restrain her so that he would not go on to sack Troy itself, seeming to show that the unhindered rage of Achilles could defy fate itself as Troy was not meant to be destroyed yet. Finally, Achilles found her prey. Achilles chased Hector around the wall of Troy three times before Athena, in the form of Hector's favorite and dearest brother, Deiphobus, persuaded Hector to stop running and fight Achilles face to face. After Hector realized the trick, he knew the battle was inevitable. Wanting to go down fighting, he charged at Achilles with his only weapon, his sword, but missed. Accepting his fate, Hector begged Achilles –not to spare his life, but to treat his body with respect after killing him. Achilles told Hector it was hopeless to expect that of her, declaring that "my rage, my fury would drive me now to hack your flesh away and eat you raw – such agonies you have caused me". Achilles then got her vengeance, winning only because of his protection from the gods. With the assistance of the god Hermes, Hector's father, Priam, went to Achilles' tent to plead with Achilles to permit him to perform for Hector his funeral rites. The final passage in the Iliad is Hector's funeral, after which the doom of Troy was just a matter of time.
Achilles, after her temporary truce with Priam, fought and killed the Amazonian warrior queen Penthesilea, but later grieved over her death. At first, she was so distracted by her beauty, he did not fight as intensely as usual. Once she realized that his distraction was endangering her life, she refocused and killed her. As she grieved over the death of such a rare beauty, a notorious Greek jeerer by the name of Thersites laughed and mocked the great Achilles. Annoyed by his insensitivity and disrespect, Achilles punched him in the face and killed him instantly.
Following the death of Patroclus, Achilles' closest companion was Nestor's son Antilochus. When Memnon, king of Ethiopia killed Antilochus, Achilles was once again drawn onto the battlefield to seek revenge. The fight between Achilles and Memnon over Antilochus echoes that of Achilles and Hector over Patroclus, except that Memnon (unlike Hector) was also the son of a goddess.
Many Homeric scholars argued that episode inspired many details in the Iliad's description of the death of Patroclus and Achilles' reaction to it. The episode then formed the basis of the cyclic epic Aethiopis, which was composed after the Iliad, possibly in the 7th century B.C. The Aethiopis is now lost, except for scattered fragments quoted by later authors.
As predicted by Hector with his dying breath, Achilles was thereafter killed by Paris with an arrow (to the heel according to Statius). In some versions, the god Apollo guided Paris' arrow. Some retellings also state that Achilles was scaling the gates of Troy and was hit with a poisoned arrow.
Both versions conspicuously deny the killer any sort of valor owing to the common conception that Paris was a coward and not the man his brother Hector was, and Achilles remained undefeated on the battlefield. Her bones were mingled with those of Patroclus, and funeral games were held. She was represented in the lost Trojan War epic of Arctinus of Miletus as living after her death in the island of Leuke at the mouth of the river Danube.
Achilles was cremated and her ashes buried in the same urn as those of Patroclus.
Paris was later killed by Philoctetes using the enormous bow of Heracles.Roleplay Sample:
(Sample from BBS, as Miku Hatsune)What was that sound? What was that incessent banging noise? Was that the kids in the apartment above? They had to be either stomping or playing basketball up there, that sound was LOUD. Jesus christ, kids. SHUT UP.
Miku grumbled, opening her eyes and vaguely registering her lack of clothing under the silk sheets she was currently buried beneath. She shifted in bed, facing the opposite direction from the window and reached up under the lace-edged pillow that her head was currently resting on. Pulling it up into the sides of her head and pushing hard on her ears to try and muffle the idiotic noise. It worked.. sort of. She couldn't exactly HEAR the noise anymore, but she could FEEL it now. Reverberating through her queen-sized mattress, mocking her, violently shaking her to intentionally disturb her sleep. Fuck it, Miku thought as she slowly resigned herself to releasing the pillow, letting it fall back into place, albeit slowly, as she wearily pulled the sheets off of herself. Miku sat up, stretching her arms into the air and yawning, her impossibly long blue hair cascading behind her and piling on the bed. Miku stood up, noting a pain in her right leg as she did so. Damn, must've slept wrong.
She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep away before looking around the apartment. A simple morning routine, make sure she didn't get drunk and break everything. Alright. The small-ish apartment consisted of only the one room. The entirety of the apartment was the one room,save the bathroom, which left a lot of space in the middle. There was her bed, on the west side. The most elegant thing in the room, lace and silk adorning it. The large dresser containing all her clothing was standing next to the bed. Oak, double doored. On the north side, the kitchen. A stove, an oven, cabinets, a sink (the faucet itself being almost completely white from all the limescale), and a refrigerator (always stocked with what Miku wanted, never quite with what she needed, hence her constant grocery runs). On the east side, a door that leads to the bathroom, a simple 10 x 12 room with a stand-up shower/bath combo with a see-through curtain, a sink and counter with a hairdryer, a razor, tissues, soap, and deoderant resting on it, and a toilet, white, padded. Also on the east side was a roof-to-ceiling see-through door that led out to a 7 x 10 balcony, showing an amazing view of the city, especially at night. There was also a tv, 42" plasma that sat on a small stand against the wall between the two doors. On the south side of her apartment was a coat rack, the door that led out into the hallway of the twelve-story complex (she lived on the twelfth, just for the nice view). Smack dab in the middle of the room was a sofa, about 2 yards wide, that reclined, facing the TV. Black, old leather, comfortable as hell. Miku nodded, making sure everything was in place before walking drowsily to the shower, pulling back the curtain and turning the water on, cranking it up to the place she had memorized as being the heat she was comfortable with and letting the bath water spray out down the drain while she examined herself in the mirror, still trying to wake up.
She was 19, and yet somehow living on her own. Most people wondered if she stole the place. The fact of the matter was, when her parents died she had inherited a small fortune from her dad's record company profits. She didn't know what to do with the massive amount of cash. I mean she really didn't want a huge, elaborate place. So she bought a room with a view and kept the rest saved up. When was she ever going to need it? She didn't have the foggiest idea. She looked her own body up and down in the mirror. Five foot, nine inch height, check, she hadn't grown at all since some time last year. She poked her stomach, a small imprint being left on the pale skin which quickly faded. Miku sighed, she was only a hundred and ten pounds. Really skinny for her age and height. Some would even say scrawny, and that could certainly apply, as a bit of her weight came from her C cup breasts anyway. Miku looked straight at herself in the mirror, making eye contact with her reflection. The pale, blue eyes that matched her calf-length hair met themselves for only a second before Miku turned around to check the water. She slipped her hand under the faucet and felt it, perfect. She slid her hand over another dial in the wall, turning it all the way as the bath water stopped and the shower switched on, the water blasting down into the tub beneath. Miku pulled back the curtain further and stepped in, closing the curtain and facing the wall opposite the showerhead. The hot water, not quite scalding, but close enough to tingle, hit Miku's shoulders and upper back directly, spraying over her shoulders and against the wall. The hot spray had.. a bit of a sleeping agent type of quality to it.. Miku could feel herself dozing off, even standing up like this.. She could vaguely make out the shampoo and soap dispensers on the wall next to her, and she shook her head to try and wake herself up. Come on, Miku, pull it together. The day has started, it's time to face it. Resignedly, she raised a hand under the soap dispenser, raising the other hand to the small, cream-colored button and pushing it in, rewarded by a large dollop of the red soap dropping into her hand. It took her about five minutes to finish applying the soap and rinsing it off. Miku giggled as the soap swirled around the drain before surrendering to its pull and disappearing inside of it. She loved watching that, she didn't know why. As she repeated the dolloping process for the shampoo, she pumped a few extra helpings of it into her hand. pushing the lot of it onto the very top of her head and rubbing it in, allowing the large, foamy, helmet-like mass of shampoo build up before sticking her head into the water, letting the shampoo naturally flow down her obscenely long hair and down the drain. She had discovered quite a while ago that this was the most effective method for washing it. After close to ten minutes, she was satisfied and sure that all the shampoo had been washed out. Reaching for both dials on the shower, she turned them both into their respective "off" positions, and pulled the curtain back once more, stepping out into open air and grabbing a towel from the rack on the wall. She knew that it was pointless to try and wrap her hair in a towel, there wasn't one in the world long enough, so she resigned to simply wrapping it around her body at the armpit, the elongated towel ending around her knee-area, and holding it in place with one hand, using the other hand to grab the hair dryer. She tilted her head to one side, letting her hair fall to that side like a curtain as she moved the dryer up and down, aimed at her hair, effectively drying the length of it in elaborate arm motions and almost fifteen minutes of time. Once finished, she switched off the hair dryer and laid it on the counter next to the sink, walking out into the main room and closing the bathroom door behind her, leaving the lights on as she always did. Fuck going green.
Walking over to her nightstand, her walk faster now that she had showered and was less exhausted, she picked up two small rubber bands from beside the lamp that resided there, Sliding both into her hair, one at a time, and pulling them taut at either side before pulling them back, twisting them once, and fastening them back around, effectively creating two calf-long ponytails on either side of her head. She knew instantly, from the amount of times that she had done this, that she had gotten it right, so there was no need to check in a mirror. She crouched down, opening the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulling out a pair of underwear, black thong, perfect for the figure, good with the outfit she had in mind. She closed the drawer, setting the piece to the side. Next drawer, a skirt, black, long enough to go a fourth of the way down her thigh, blue trim. Nice. She set that on top of the thong. Next drawer, a shirt. This is where her clothing choice got a bit.. weird. Her shirt of choice was a dress shirt, button up, or so it seemed. It had no sleeves, although it still had a collar, and it flared out down below her hips, halfway down the already short skirt when she wore it. It was completely blue in coloration, same color as the trim on the skirt. She nodded in approval and set that on top of the skirt, closing the drawer. Lastly, she opened the next drawer and pulled out a tie. Blue, with a black clip near the bottom, waist-long. She laid it on top of the shirt before standing up, closing the drawer with her foot before quickly changing into the outfit she had laid out, slipping on her thigh-long black boots and stretching. Well, she thought, guess it was time to face the day. Grabbing her key off of the night stand, she walked to, opened, and walked out of, the front door, slipping the key into a small breast-pocket on her shirt before closing and locking the door.
Proceeding down the hallway, she took care in not letting her boots fall too heavily on the floor. It was still early, and there could be people asleep in the rooms on either side of her. She may be a bit of an oddball, but she was still courteous. She sighed, even from down the hall she could hear the banging noise from upstairs. Whatever the hell it was. After about fifteen rooms passed, Miku reached the elevator, pressing the button to find, luckily enough, that it was already on her floor. She walked in and pressed the button for the ground floor, waiting patiently, leaned against the wall, for the elevator to reach the bottom. After an agonizingly long amount of time, the soft "ding" of the elevator and a rush of steel as the doors opened indicated that she had arrived. She strode out into the lobby, her weird hair and weirder clothing attracting a virtual buffet of strange looks from the tourists. Those that had lived in this apartment complex for a while didn't even look twice. They knew that girl, that was Miku Hatsune. A bit of an odd one, but sweet as can be if you got to know her. Miku proceeded towards the doors, grinning at the "woosh" as the automatic doors swished open on either side, allowing her passage through. Once entering the morning air, she sighed contently. This was her favorite place to be, outside, in the open. She inhaled deeply, taking in the crisp scent of downtown karakura's early morning. A still low-in-the-sky sun, not a cloud in the sky, which was a beautiful blue today more than she'd seen in a while, and a fresh grass smell that seemed to overtake the air from the park down the block. Ooh, the park! That sounded like a great idea! Miku turned towards the lush, green city park and began walking, her boots clicking on the sidewalk as she walked, well more like skipped down the road. After the length of the sidewalk and more odd looks from tourists, she arrived. She knew exactly where to go, too. One of the benefits of having lived here so long. Miku walked to a bench nearby and took off her boots, hiding them in a little nook under the bench and to the left. Almost undetectable, great for hiding things. She swiftly removed her socks and slipped those in as well, before stretching her toes out and wrapping them around the grass and soil beneath her feet. It felt good to be out again.
What next? Hmm... The Lake! Miku grinned excitedly as she ran, full pelt, through the soft and fresh grass and the playground towards the lake that she knew was going to be devoid of people. Why? Because it always was. She continued running, her speed far outmatching that of a normal human girl, drawing, you guessed it, more odd looks from the nearby townspeople. "Who is that?" They'd mutter, "Who's the barefoot girl with the weird clothes, the determined look, and the inhuman run?" Miku grinned, she had heard the mutterings a million times and she knew who she was. She was Miku-Fucking-Hatsune. The lake was coming up fast, and she smirked, diverting her run straight towards a tree that sat at the edge of the lake. She ran full-pelt towards it, her smile almost too excited. She ran faster, to anyone else it would have looked like she was going to hit the tree... Until she ran straight up the trunk. Stopping perfectly still, as if on a dime, on a high-hanging branch, she sat down, no fear of falling the short fifteen feet. It may have been a shorter tree, but the view was still amazing. She could see the entire lake, the way the sun reflected off of it, and the various birds drinking from it. But.. she noticed something different.. something.. off. What was it? She looked down, noting a small patch of grass directly below the branch she was currently sitting on. In that patch was the most gorgeous man that Miku had ever seen. What kind of amazing luck was a find like this? She smirked and quietly slipped from the branch, falling the entire fifteen feet and landing, without a sound, directly behind the man. She sat next to him, crossing her legs in a passable imitation of his mannerism, and looked over his shoulder at the book, her cheek only half an inch from his by the time she decided to speak. "Whatcha readin?~" She asked simply, her voice light and airy and her tone playful. "For that matter, who are you? I never see anyone around this area of the park. The lake is usually deserted except for me." Miku moved her head back away from him and grinned wide at him before looking at the grass in front of her, feebly picking blades of it out of the ground before tossing them into the wind.