Chrono Crusade is the creation and intellectual property of Moriyama Daisuke and Fujimi Shobo.
Special thanks to the Lawaifuteca Youtube channel for the inspiration.
La Waifuteca: The Fanfiction Series.
16- Rosette Christopher.
Measurements:
Bust: 84 cm.
Waist: 59 cm.
Hips: 85 cm.
Age:
16 years old.
Height:
162 cm.
Weight:
47 kg.
Eyes:
Blue.
Hair:
Blonde.
What's the Deal with Rosette Christopher?
This waifu has a really sad canonical story. Deal with a devil, lost her brother, died while little else than a teenager, the world then was implied to eventually end in the anime making all of her and her partner's sacrifices in vain.
Google it if you want. Let's not deal with that, shall we?
She's a happy go lucky, collateral damage causing, gunslinging young nun in the 1920s. That's all you need to know for this Alternate Universe.
MUGEN Universe Prologue- by M203.
"The Ley Lines are in chaos..." The little Devil muttered under his breath as he drew his coat a little tighter around his chest. He watched as beneath him, the nuns, ministers and others serviant to the Order of Magdeline milled about, almost in a frenzy. It had been months since the last crisis threatening humainty had been averted, the Sinner known as Aion dispatched, and finally the world of humans and the world of Devils reaching some manner of accord, thanks to Pandemonium being appeased. Chrono put his ear to the warm, tiled roof basking in the morning sun as below, and listened as Ewan Remington spoke grimly.
"I am sorry to have called you all here, but things have been set in motion that may again require the efforts of the Magdeline Order. I am aware that the conflict between ourselves and the Devils may be over, but I am afraid that we may need their aid yet again..."
As usual, Chrono heard as the voice of his partner, the rambunctious, and often obnoxious Rosette Christopher tore the stoic silence of the room in two.
"AGAIN!? But..."
Remington cut her off. "Rosette, I understand that Sister Kate has allowed you and Chrono some time away from your duties but this simply cannot wait!"
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkay, so what is it this time? Devils? An Apostle needs saving? What?" the fiesty nun shot back, only to find a littl hand over her mouth, and a arm around her wait, both appendages beginning to drag her backwards.
"I'm sorry about that, Father Remington," Chrono smiled, embarrassed, and hissed into his partner's ear, begging her to be a little more patient.
"Thank you, Chrono." The tall, handsome minister placed a gold-trimmed tube of ivory upon the desk of the Mother Superior, all in the room letting out either a gasp of disbelief or a murmur of suspicion.
"It is," Remington cautioned, looking down at the elegant cylinder. "The final Revelation of Fatimah, the scroll which holds the secret words given to those Faithful, words which pertain to the remaining time humanity has been allowed by God."
The room was plunged into silence as Remington slowly, carefully twisted the top of the cylinder and with delicate fingers, extracted its cotents, unfurling the scroll.
None approached it, save Remington himself, who slowly, solemnly turned it around to face the assembly before him, and then nodded to Chrono, the Devil who had taken up residence in the House of God itself. The little Devil stepped cautiously forwards, and paused several feet away from the huge oak desk.
"Father Remington... I feel..."
If it were at all possible, Remington's features grew even more grim. "What is it you feel, Chrono?" He noticed the eyes of the little Devil begin to grow wide with fear, as his lips began to tremble.
"You do understand it, don't you Chrono? You do know what this means..."
Rosette came to his side, and together the pair stepped cautiously ever-forwards, until they looked almost directly downwards at the ancient Hebrew letters, a strange shape, sitting omniously in the corner of the parchment.
"This can't be..." Chrono stammered.
Remington nodded, and beckoned the pair of them into his chambers. As the door closed behind them, hrono noticed a petite little girl, her light blue hair tied into the most adorable pigtails and kept where they were with little ribbons.
Remington turned to face tha pair. "Rosette, Chrono, I would like you to meet one of my colleagues. This," he presented the adorable little creature, "This is Dokuro-Chan. As you may have guessed, she is as I am. Except fr the fact that she is from our Covert Operations Section." It had already been a while since Remington had revealed himself to be an Angel during one of the more brutal battles against the Sinner Aion and his cohorts.
Rosette took a shallow step towards their 'visitor', and then poked her repeatedly in the head. "So, what's all this about? We're suppose to be on extended leave, you know!"
Behing them, Remington took up the Scroll of Fatimah and nodded to the tiny Angel, who began to speak in a voice so soothing both Rosette and Chrono were mesmerised.
"We need you, Rosette. We will be leaving immediately."
Chrono's jaw dropped, as the young Angel took Rosette's and and began pulling her towards the door. He found the and of Father Remington uopn his shoulder, holding him back."But why!?"
Remington spun him around, and brought is face again to the scroll. "It doesn't burn your eyes, does it?"
"Wait..." Chrono whispered in disbelief. Heavenly objects never had a good effect on Sinners like him. "No, it doesn't..."
Remington sighed. "That is because the power behind this sigil is still sealed...it has been sealed for the last one thousand, eight hundred years." He spoke matter-of factly as he indicated the star-shaped brand at the bottom of the page, seemingly burned into the Nile-reed paper.
"One thousand... no... impossible!" Chrono stammered.
"You are needed elsewhere, Chrono," Remington stated flatly, "Because if we are right, and the rumors about the Relief Office in Heaven shutting down are true, then we may again need the help of the Devils who aided us before."
The Minister let out a sigh.
"Before this, we dealt with Devils. But never before have we dealt with a God..."
Before his eyes, Chrono watched as the paper surrounding the star-shaped brand began to smoke, as if it were burning. The words left his lips in a lisp of awe, but mostly it was fear.
"The God of Destruction... is coming?"
Remington's silence spoke volumes.
En conclusion: A toda monja le dibuja unas piernotas un ponja.