Wes blushed. Suddenly the off-hand mentions to love and wifehood were becoming very hard to ignore or rationalize as airheaded jokes.
"W-wait. You're serious? Like seriously serious? Me?" he asked, pointing to himself. "You're saying you love me? Why?"
"Do I need a reason?" Her response was callous, but delivered with her own overbearing cheer that it was hard to find any harmful intent in it. "My wish was to do what I couldn't in life, be a good wife. So just by the merit of summoning me, you have granted my wish! Romantic, isn't it? Out of all the people across time and space that were compatible for me, you were the one!"
It was really all she needed. There was no soul mate waiting for her, or a star crossed lover forever out of reach. All she needed to fall in love was for anyone to call out and give her a chance. That was the despair of Tamamo no Mae. That which she found amidst the 3 days of raining arrows before her life was extinguished, surrounded by the corpses of the tens of thousands who proclaimed her a monster.
Her hand had unconsciously clenched around a handful of fabric, grip whiteknuckled yet her face remained the picture of joy and exuberance.
The world was spinning. Her head hurt. Her hand hurt. Ow. The war wasn't supposed to be like this at all. Why did her Servant slap her? Things are moving too quickly. Who's this knight-looking guy in front of me? Oh god is that another Servant? Normally, under a tense set of circumstances, Shinobu would be the type to act quickly. However, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation had caught her off guard, so she was struck silent for a moment.
In the next moment, she acted purely on instinct. It was a tactic as old as time, that she had used to avoid trouble from her parents more times than she could count.
"Ahh, Sorry~!" She makes an apologetic smile and steadies herself upright, making a slight bow in the direction of the woman she had barreled over. Her glance moves to the knight, and then back to her Servant, frowning. "Might you be..." She trails off, her expression thoughtful, while she desperately tries to come up with a way to escape the situation.
Finally, she decides on the best choice. Hopefully, her Servant had the brains to play along. "...a fellow Master?" She finishes, with a questioning tilt of the head. Her expression still contained faint echoes of confused innocence, but she seemed to be getting a better grasp of the situation. She shoots a glance at her own Servant, wondering why he hadn't spoken up, before quickly using Master's Clairvoyance to try and get an idea of the knight's capabilities. What she saw wasn't promising.
She pauses.
What has everyone been saying about her clothes? She didn't really see a problem with them, but this man looked like the religious type, one of those crusaders or whatever they were called. So, she should probably change into something more chaste if the two of them were going to get along.
"I have extra clothes in my bag, back in the other clearing. Would you-" she looks at the girl, who was obviously a Master, "like to, maybe, have a short truce? I'm sure neither of us want to have to fight immediately after summoning our Servants. I surveyed the area before coming here, so I doubt we'll be interrupted here. What do you say?"
Well, it appeared that at the very least Giorgio was able to use quick wit in order to break Berserker’s restraints on his person. At the very least he had overcome the potential threat of “getting killed”, something that many people would consider to be “successful”.
Even better, Giorgio was able to retain control of his Command Seals. He did not want to be forced to make Berserker listen to his orders through implementation of a Spell. If he had felt his life was in true danger, he would not have hesitated to protect himself, but even with having his Servant have a disfavorable opinion of his person. At the very least, he was glad that she was no longer wanting to rip his throat out.
“Small gains are still good,” Giorgio thought to himself. Though he had put on a rather brave face in the wake of his Servant attempting to murder him, he could not say that he was not afraid for his own life. Though believing in his ability to talk himself out of many situations, he was almost certain that was going to end up badly.
“A wish, eh?”
Both Servants and Masters tended towards a desire to obtain within the world. Everyone has the desire to obtain something.
Perhaps it is to obtain material good.
Perhaps it is to change an event in one's life.
Perhaps it is to change an aspect about yourself.
Giorgio cannot say that he believed in any of these concepts. He was merely a man who felt there could exist a bit of excitement in his life had he joined this back-water ritual. Giorgio already had the finer things in his life. Designer Full-grain leather clothes; jacket, pants, gloves, boots, the lot, wealth, a bit of [in]fame even. Spring break only comes once a year. however Giorgio this “once a year” constituted the entire year, but that was an irrelevancy.
“Don’t you think it is a bit too early to drink. Ha ha ... I still haven’t even had my morning coffee yet.“
Well, he did offer his Servant fine wine. Even if it was in passing, Giorgio was not someone to go back on their promises. If his Servant wanted wine after he had offered, he would accomplish his goals. After all, he was not someone to take promises without first being willing to commit to them. A man’s word is, above all else, his most important possession.
Berserker edged on his follow by looking towards her Master, as she had put it only in name, to bring her to the promised wine. Giorgio was not upset with this arrangement. He had not planned to force his Servant to act as a familiar would in the first place. Though Servants could be compared to “high ranking familiars”, they were not truly the same thing. Servants were once people, and their projection of their legend brought them to the Throne to be summoned to battle. And being a “person” made Giorgio not want to impose himself forcefully on them. After all, everyone is entitled to their own agency as individuals.
“Act as you wish. I have no reason to chain you down. I lifted your madness for that reason, did I not? Even though you might not wish to have a positive opinion of me, I still think you are entitled to your own thoughts. I will say that I would prefer you not be so rough next time. However, I will prove you in this war I am more than a suitable Master for you. I, Giorgio Armadi, have a dream: to win this war! Though I might not have any reason for truly winning, since I had summoned a Servant that wishes to win, out of respect I shall give my all to become victorious.”
Giorgio had placed his hand upon his jacket collar and pulled it slightly to the side, keeping his other hand upon his hip in a somewhat flamboyant fashion akin to his own clothing. After all, fashion and appearance was important to Giorgio. Maybe overly so.
Mad Enhancement of such a high rank tends towards making a Servant a drooling creature controlled by their own Master. A competent Master could act as a Jockey to a horse and control them like some sort of animal. However, Giorgio felt that this disgraceful position was less-than-optimal for his humanist philosophies. Even if he would have to kill other Masters potentially, he would at least offer them the ultimatum before such.
“But if you want wine, we shall look for a bar post-haste. Though I would suggest keeping youself in corporal form for the time being. People of our time are a bit weirded out by that sort of garb and I would say it would paint a pretty solid picture on our back.”
Well, a Servant at a bar would probably end badly. At least it was early so there would not be as many people thankfully. And even if it was early and a bar not open, they could most likely find a liquor store to drink in a more private location. Of course, the latter of the options was more likely, as a Servant who takes the garb of a warrior is more than likely to be seen as "odd" in a store. That being said, Giorgio would likely be able to convince the other they could simply a cosplayer. Probably.
Twenty minutes later, the pair pulled up to the church, Rasputin parking at a small lot halfway up the hill. He leaned out the window, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. Yes, this was the smell of piety! Dragging himself out of the car, Rasputin beckoned to his Servant, a look of profound happiness spreading across his pale, wind-chapped features.
"It appears my map has not served us wrong, dear comrade!", he looked back at Vlad, "Come, child! Today, once again, you stand before God in the flesh! Let us celebrate as brothers before the divine, and offer our thanks for this bountiful miracle He has bestowed upon us!"
Rasputin practically skipped- or, no, that was just muscular spasms. Rasputin appeared to skip up the rest of the hill towards the church, beckoning his Servant as he did so. Limping towards the doors of the church, he stopped to catch his breath momentarily before entering, giving his Servant a chance to catch up. Once the two were together, he would confidently stride inside, inviting his Servant in after him and taking up a place at one of the rearmost pews for the duration of the service.
As he'd hoped, the lass apologized without complaint, and it hardly seemed to be a bluff. "Good, to acknowledge one's failings is the first step to purity."
Just as Baldwin released his grip upon the girl's arm, another fellow stepped in to yank her up by the hair. By his looks, attire, and manner of speech, the young King determined him to be some breed of Anglo-Saxon.
Not quite an Englishman, might he be one of those 'Americans' I'd read about in the Throne of Heroes?
While such a man would already be an uncommon sight in the Orient, Baldwin had a deep-seated feeling there was more to it than that. Perhaps this fellow, much like him, had been called to take part in this 'Holy Grail War.' As if his suspicions were not enough, the child's mention of the words 'Master' and 'Servant' all but confirmed it.
If someone else had been summoned as Rider, this chance encounter could have swiftly escalated into the War's first proper battle. But, today was Sunday, and the man summoned as Rider was a man of faith. Thus, Baldwin acted accordingly.
"Only heathens and devils would think to do battle on the day of of the Lord. By my honour, I shan't bring you harm. Now, if you'll allow me a moment, I must attend to her ladyship."
With that, Baldwin turned 'round to face his Master, and made his way over to her. Offering his hand, Baldwin spoke directly to her, his voice tinged with genuine concern.
"Are you quite alright, madam? I would not wish you to come to harm so early in the war."
Even as the Master and Servant moved to enter the Church, little seemed out of place. Save for there being so few people present on this day, the service, from what could be seen, was being performed with a level of competence that was surprising for this Far East nation. What was surprising then, was not the service but the priest. The man was young, younger than one would anticipate. In fact, with his boyish face, it seemed as though he might sooner be a university student than a priest, but the gait and competence he carried himself with was certainly the real thing.
When Rasputin and Lancer entered, the priest in question didn't seem to miss a beat, continuing seamlessly. However, for the briefest of moments, it seemed like his eyes moved to them, those dark orbs glinting with a certain understanding. After all, as a member of the Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament, it would be disgraceful if he had not realized. He hadn't been able to consult the Spirit Board in recent minutes, for obvious reasons, but the nature of a magus, of a heretic, was something he was of course trained to recognize implicitly.
It went without saying that this priest was the Overseer sent by the Holy Church, a relatively young but talented individual known as Father Masuda.
Wes was shocked. The desperation in her smiling face was palpable. So it was true. She really had tried to love the emperor. Love, not seduce or poison, but was discovered by Seimei, and chased out of the palace. Rejected. Her intentions had never once been impure, yet she'd failed to find what she was looking for.
Wes gulped. How should he handle this situation? I mean, this was so sudden! They'd only met like ten minutes ago! Not to mention she was literally clinging to him because he was the first one to accept her. Was this even right? But if he said no, he'd trash his relationship with her forever, which could be disastrous for his chances of winning the Holy Grail War.
Wes felt like dopeslapping himself after he thought that. You idiot! This isn't about the Grail War, it's about her! She's a person too, that's way more important! But... what do I do? What do I say? You can't just say "I love you" and mean it after you've just met a person! At least I can't. But... I mean... I'm not averse to the idea, and if I said no anyway I'd be breaking her heart...
Throwing all of himself into an all or nothing gamble, he reached over and embraced Tamamo, though his head only reached up to her chest. Holding her tight, he said "No. You're not wrong. In fact you're right. I summoned you because we're compatible. The Grail wanted us together. So if this is really what you want, I have no complaints whatsoever. We'll give it our best shot. Whatever you want me to be I can be for you, Tamamo. And I promise, I'll earn your love for real some day. So uh," he added somewhat desperately, "please don't cry, okay?"
He laughed, a hearty deep laugh. It would almost be normal if he did not have such a crazed look upon his face.
"That it is, Master!" Lancer replied. "To be walking Earth again... Why, its nothing short of a miracle!"
A miracle, one worthy of the Prophet himself. What power this grail must have, to be able to pull even he back to walk again. He was almost giddy, throbbing even, with excitement to see what his Master would wish for if he got his hands on the Grail. Ah but he was getting ahead of himself. A war still needs to be fought, and doubtless there would be more interesting Masters to meet.
The car visibly shook as he exited, slamming the door behind him. He can't smell piety like his master can, but he can smell other humans inside. Taking large strides he enters the church along with his Master. Sitting on the same pew as his Master, he turned his gaze towards the priest as he continued his sermon.
He seemed unusually young, but carried himself with a familiar air to Lancer. Kurokiri Hyuuga
This was a first for her.
Never had she met someone as brazen or as strange as Saber was. Within the space of a few minutes, she had already made Kurokiri felt things she didn't know she could. Or... perhaps it was just her? It was not as if Kurokiri really socialize much after all; after work she would usually go straight home if she needed to buy nothing from the shops.
"You are really braver than I thought, Hyuuga. The women of this era really have guts, if they can walk in broad daylight while wearing these things."
It was really odd she could go from almost prodding Kurokiri's breast and commenting about them, to being shy about wearing a skirt. It was enough to make herself feel rather self conscious, checking every now and then to make sure she wasn't flashing her panties accidentally.
"Its normal to wear something like this nowadays." She replied, discreetly holding down her skirt against the wind. The blush on Saber's face was ignored as best she could. Saber wasn't really as brazen as she thought it would seem.
"Hey, Hyuuga, if I remember well what the Grail told me, today is Sunday, right? Then, what do you say about a visit to the Church? Thanking the Lord for this opportunity is something I should do as a hero of the Christian faith. Could we do that, now?"
The church? Kurokiri wasn't really a religious person so she never really went there. There was no reason for her not to go however, they did need to scout out the land after all. The book did mention an overseer of sorts, but she had no idea who it was or if the church still mediates this war.
"Ah, yes! Its not too far off."
Leading the way, it took but a few turns down a few roads before finally they were walking down a path leading straight the church. Kurokiri stood near the church's main entrance waiting for Saber to catch up, wondering idly why her Command Seals were thrumming slightly.
Qiūyuè turned to face the newcomer as he approached. He defiantly struck out to her - he was on the far side of Fuyuki from Shinto where the suits trended to be and even then, his attire was uncanny - plus, the whole 'white' thing. After a brief examination of the man and hearing what he had to say, Qiūyuè turned to give Rider a momentary glare before looking back to the two. She was suspicious but doubtful - wouldn't she have sensed a master? If this is a servant... then where is the master? Are they already planned and acting independently to cover the most ground? Is he even a servan-
Her train of thought was abruptly cut off when the young girl spoke, much to her surprise: "...a fellow Master?" Qiūyuè flinched in surprise before she ran her other hand for her quarterstaff. If it was truly as it seemed - if this young girl was a master and went by undetected - was it a planned ambush? Or was she just overthinking it? After a moment of contemplation, Qiūyuè reluctantly dropped her other hand from her quarterstaff to simply hold it with the one, deciding that if there were to be any chances at negotiations it'd be without a threatening stance.
Yet again, the conversation took another turn that surprised her: "like to, maybe, have a short truce?" Qiūyuè felt conflicted on the matter: one part of her wanted to let out a relieved sigh and another part of her wanted to flinch, but in the end she didn't do much of anything; and to be fair, as the girl went on, it was a convincing offer. This girl is very deceiving - she's defiantly smarter than she looks, particularly in the age regard. What Rider had to say only confirmed it for her. "I would very much like that," Qiūyuè begins to answer with a vague bow, "and with my servant and I in agreement, it seems it may be best; unless there's only objection, of course." She finishes whilst looking over towards the young girl's servant in a bid to query if he has anything to add. Admittedly she nearly said Rider in her sentence, but swapped it out for 'my servant' in case that'd be giving something away.
"..I must attend to her ladyship." came Rider, prompting Qiūyuè to look from Archer to him. "Are you quite alright, madam? I would not wish you to come to harm so early in the war." Qiūyuè raised her spare hand to vaguely wave off his hand, herself already standing, before she comes to answer: "Yes, I'm.. I'm well," she begins to answer before offering him a vague smile, "thank you. I'll make sure to give you my name shortly as to run through the formalities." With that, she looks back other to Archer. Discreetly even to her own mind, it vaguely occurs to her how reliable Rider may be with looking out for her.
There was a brief of gasp of surprise before Wes embraced her. It seemed evident to her that he didn't have experience in this sort of emotional situation, but there was a sincerity in his actions that she found comforting. Her Master, in his infinite compassion and wisdom, had chosen to give her a chance to win her over. If it was anyone else she may have dismissed it as them humoring her in order to maintain control over their Servant, but Wes didn't appear to her as the type.
After all, he was a heretic. A Magus who stood against all established social conventions and norms regardless of the risk in order to maintain his own moral standards. Wes was going so far as to risk his life in the Holy Grail War for the chance to change the world. It wasn't a sentiment she truly shared, Tama was a lover not a revolutionary, but it was one she appreciated in her Master. To find someone who would not judge the world as everyone else and perhaps come to find something worthy of affection inside her.
"Thank you." Her voice barely a whisper as she rested her chin atop his head. She wouldn't dare let him see her face right then. "As long as you keep being who you are, I'm certain we can be happy. It doesn't matter how long it takes for you, just know that I am happy being by your side, and that no force on this realm will tear me from your side. Not even the deepest pits of Yomi could part us!"
Tamamo eased herself free of Wes's embrace with some reluctance. Her eyes moist, but not a drop spilled as her Master had asked. With a fire lit in her buxom that wasn't just the warmth of having buried her Master's face in it she raised pumped her fist in the air.
"Alright! Let's get to it, Wes. There are six Masters and Servant's in the way of our future and I, Tamamo No Mae, will not abide this affront! My passion burns with the heat of Amaterasu's fire and will scour the opposition from our path!"
Wes almost breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis: averted. He smiled. His Servant was weird. Well-meaning, but weird. I mean it's not like he minded, what with her almost literally bending over backwards to please him, but he had a feeling life with Tamamo would be interesting.
Was he ready for it? Maybe. His father hadn't really been the "commitment" type, but the influence he'd had on Wes' life was less than the commercial for a box of Cheerios.
Of course the question "what if I lose and one of us dies" hung over his head like a heart-shaped sword of Damocles, but Wes wasn't worried about that. At least, not like "really worried", he thought somewhat nervously. He'd planned far enough ahead to know that he had a winning strategy, and new ideas were popping into his head every second now that he knew what Tamamo was capable of. He was confident in his ability to win, with whatever methods or measures were necessary.
"Alright, change of plans," he said, standing up and rolling up his sleeping bag. "We're renting a boat. We have to get as far off the mainland as possible. Tamamo, grab that rat!"
Wes pointed to a particularly large rodent trying to squeak past unnoticed in the corner of the shed. Once she had done so, he looked the wriggling rat in the eyes and
With the rat incapacitated, Wes gingerly took it from Tamamo and placed it in an Amazon box with bubblewrap to cushion it. There was work to be done to make this a proper familiar, and this was not the place.
Peeking his head outside, he had Tamamo dematerialize.
Alright, I might need you to do some translating for me, so if we run into anyone speaking Japanese, be ready.
He then approached the warehouse supervisor he'd met with earlier, an American expat by the name of Bob. He'd been working in Fuyuki on a contract for his company for a few years after the divorce. This was to be his last season in Japan.
"Hey, Bob," Wes said.
"<Hurry it up! What the hell are you loligagging around for?!>" he shouted in heavily accented Japanese before turning to face Wes. "Oh, it's you again, kid. What, was the shed not up to your standards or something? I told you it was a shithole."
"No, the shed is actually quite fine," Wes said, putting on a smile.
"Well... good. Because you ain't getting the deposit back," Bob said, ready to get back to work. "Is there... something else you wanted?"
"Actually there is," Wes said. "That yacht over there, parked down the docks a ways away. I'd like to charter it for a few days. Do you know who I'd talk to if I wanted to make that happen?"
Five minutes and some light hypnosis later, Wes had convinced the owner to hand over the yacht in exchange for a rather generous deposit that had put him back more than $30k, leaving him with less than ten of the original fifty thousand he'd brought with him as emergency funds. Any more significant expenses and he might have to start skimming off the top of the accounts of the local crimelord, Raiga Fujimura. Thankfully, it seemed like for now he had everything they needed.
"God bless you, Amazon Japan," Wes said to himself, loading the last of his boxes and climbing aboard the boat. "You ready, Caster?"
Materializing at his side, Caster nodded enthusiastically in response. "Ready and able, Master! With this floating fortress we are one step closer to victory against this unjust world. Then the world is ours!" Firmly planting a foot on the deck's railing she thrust a finger out towards open water. "Take us out Master, so we may begin our work in peace!"
That she wouldn't have to go out and grab grubby rats for her Master to do things to was in no one affecting her opinion of the boat. There would be nothing wrong with other master's living out of sheds that have random rats infesting them, but Tamamo hoped for something a bit more opulent. Being on a Yacht definitely was definitely more opulent, and had a wide range of benefits.
Now what to do now? Oh, I could catch fish for dinner. I'd love to see Wes' face when he accepts my cooking. Then again, I would have to butcher it and I don't want to deal with that kind of mess. With a dejected sigh she turned back to her master.
Both Giorgio and Berserker had made their way from the bridge to a bar that Giorgio had heard about in passing. Of course, being the connoisseur of taste Giorgio was, he had mapped out a few placed he would likely wish to visit during his time in this city. Even if the city itself was not as exciting as something like the Streets of New York, Tokyo, or Paris, it would be where he would take residency for the remainder of his time within the war. He would simply get used to the somewhat lesser city. Not that he would really want to live here. It was merely but the maximum of two weeks would be his total time taken within the city.
‘I really hope they’ll be willing to serve us,’ Giorgio thought to himself. At the very least, he hoped that Berserker would behave herself. Unlike most other magi who trained in multiple disciplines, Giorgio only knew a single “set” of spells. Therefore, any actions caused by Berserker would most likely be irreversible compared to the ability most magi have of “persuasion”.
...In retrospect, this might not have been the most thought-out plan done by Giorgio. At the very least, he hoped that the Berserker would be able to at the very least behave herself, not unlike the hope that a coworker hopes their coworker doesn’t embarrass themselves when the two go out for drinks. Of course, compared to the potential ramifications of a coworker going ballistic and a Servant going ballistic held very distinct effects. One could just have acted in a way where you won’t bring them places next time. The other might kill people. One can select their own poison there.
At the very least, his Servant did seem to have an interest when Giorgio had offered wine to them. Perhaps, even displaced out of time, she was a “queen” of sorts. At the very least, that is what she wanted Giorgio to refer to her as. Perhaps in some regards the two, despite Giorgio not wanting to state any similarities between her overtly barbaric, diva-like self and his civilized, flamboyant self.
However, Giorgio did want to avoid future conflicts between himself and his Servant, but that did not mean that Giorgio would roll over and become the ‘servant’ in the partnership. If she was a Queen, Giorgio would have to be a King. He was not willing to give up his somewhat prideful self to win a war he truly didn’t have much of an interest in to begin with. Despite being a skilled negotiator, at the very least he understood who the person “Giorgio Armadi” was. And he was not someone to back down when presented with a challenge, perhaps to a faulted, stubborn way.
“Let’s go, Berserker,” Giorgio stated to his Servant. They were allowed to materialize as long as others were not seen. After all, magi and magics tended towards secrecy, and even being someone who didn’t care much for being a magus, there existed a ‘code of ethics” he believed should be followed to a degree when dealing with the average riff-raff.
Entering the shop, assuming that it was even open during this time, Giorgio examined the interior of the shop. Every chair placement, every face he could see within the shop. After all, Giorgio was one to believe that everything should hold a degree of perfection about itself. The slightest interior design error would bug Giorgio to the extent that he would not likely be able to enjoy himself within the shop. Luckily for him, everything seemed to check out.
“Ah, hello,” the Foreign man said to the bartender on duty. “My associate and I were looking for a drink if that would be fine with you. It might be a bit early, but we recently arrived in town and it is late where I am from right now. Jet-lag and all, hahaha.”
Perhaps the odd looking woman behind Giorgio was a bit of a mismatch in appearance to a great degree. First off, there must have been at least 15 cm, perhaps a bit more,height differential between the two, as well as the difference in Giorgio’s clothing selection and Berserker’s. Giorgio seemed to wear modern, designer clothing, whereas his Servant wore the battlegarb of the amazonians. However, this was somewhat off-set by the fact that his Servant’s hair styling was a bit … “odd”. Clearly, to someone who didn’t know of Servants, Berserker was a cosplaying a warrior cat girl. At least, that is what Giorgio hoped people would buy when confronted. Perhaps she would believe that both Giorgio and Berserker were cosplayers. After all, Giorgio did remember during his time in Tokyo several people had confronted him asking if he was playing as some character from a popular manga series, but it was merely his average appearance.
“I’d like a bottle of your finest wine, preferably some European import. If your bar is not open, I can take it to go if you’d wish. I wouldn’t wish to disrupt your business normalcies. But I would rather drink my wine in a bar rather than elsewhere, even if it is a tad early. Assuming that is alright with you. Haha.”
While Andrew Jackson was not expecting a fight, he was certainly ready for one in spite of not knowing his full capabilities quite yet.
"Two of them slanty-eye types and one of them not so slanty-eye types. The not-slant-eye must be same as me. One of them 'servants', probably of the 'Rider' persuasion. Yes..." the Archer remarked, mumbling in a barely audible tone to himself with an accent which made him near impossible to understand. This was all among the rest of the commotion, seeing the three collecting their bearings, Jackson impatiently tapping the side of his rifle with his right index finger.
"Yes. I believe a good ol' ceasefire would do just fine. It'll give the little girly here some time to change. While I was up in limbo or whatever, last time Uncle Sam gave somebody a break, the damn fools attacked anyways. It was on their holiday too. For now though, I'm gonna trust all y'all." the President replied, looking out to the adults, then turning his attention down to his Master.
"You hear that?" he asked, stroking the girl's cheek where he hit her. With a light pat, he sent her off. "Get changed. Don't give me any of that 'Archer' shit either. It's Andrew Jackson. You can call me Jackson."
Now, this was a rather odd situation on the whole for the dear Neko-san. You see, a very short time frame before Giorgio had entered the bar, another individual had entered, and done something to the owner's daughter. While she was still undeniably "herself", a small injection of stagnant magical energy had caused a slight shift in perceptions. On its own, this would evaporate, given time, but for the time being it was certainly in place.
However, something else was equally prevalent. This, of course, was the fact that Berserker had entered spiritual form and was thus undetectable to anyone save for other Servants or Giorgio himself; even other magi would not be able to notice her presence. Thus, when Giorgio began referring to an associate of his as though there were two people there when he was very clearly alone, Otoko was understandably confused.
"Jet lag, huh? Well, no sense in turning away good business." She replied, shrugging slightly before deciding to address the elephant in the room. "I'd ask what'd bring you to Fuyuki, but...did ya leave this 'associate' of yours behind at the airport, or something?"
As an aside, if Giorgio was knowledgeable and capable of the most basic abilities that were classified as "Threads of Consciousness" among magi, then he would likely have noticed that someone was in the bar, having never left and never closed her Magic Circuits, who was very obviously emanating the presence of a magus.
Of course, as he was not capable of this much, this observation went unnoticed. How lucky for that magus.
The sun had now fully risen, and hung not far from the middle of the sky at this point. In other words, it could be said that the morning had entered its final stages.
It was thus unsurprising when, with the end of the service, the few who were present in the Church took their leave, with only the Master and Servant who had entered still present. The acolytes, after fulfilling their duty, also retreated to an area further back within the Church; they were of course knowledgeable, at least somewhat, to what was unfolding here, and had no intention of infringing on it.
The Servant and Master outside of the Church, standing opposite it, would notice a handful of people exiting the building. However, none of them seemed to be the Master that Kurokiri could sense, nor the Servant that Saber could sense. It of course also followed that now, Rasputin and Lancer could sense a Master and Servant nearby as well, though it didn't seem that the priest had noticed the same.
Smiling gently, the occasional light catching his silver-white hair, the priest looked forwards at Rasputin and Lancer. "I am glad you chose to attend the service. Even if we walk different paths, a faith in the Lord is to be admired." He stated simply, before revealing his arm. A sprawling band of intersecting seals covered his right arm, and potentially extending further, each one layered in divine protections to prevent petty theft. With that many Command Seals...it would not be an exaggeration to say that, with using them for oneself, even a normal human could stand against a Servant.
"I am Father Masuda, the Overseer of your war for the Holy Grail, sent to ensure the safety of this city's people, the secrecy of the war itself, and to ensure that no disasters come about from this war's progression. I hope that our relation may be an amicable one." He explained warmly. "You must forgive me, though. I have not been able to consult the Spirit Board due to the service, so I will have to ask for your class, Heroic Spirit, such that I can properly make note of such things. Your name would also be appreciated, Master chosen by the Holy Grail."
T. ZETSUMEI Einzbern Castle
"Mm~! That supermarket guy was right, these are good!"
Sitting at a table far too grandiose for a single person to sit at, kicking her legs energetically, a magus of no less than ninety years of age hummed happily. Sitting before her was a small bowl filled with cereal and milk. The cereal in question was of the make commonly referred to as "Honey Nut Cheerios".
"Alrighty, so the Servant summonings should've gotten pretty well underway by now. Feel like they should all be bound by now, so that's cool." She said between spoonfuls of cereal, musing to herself. "I should call Church Guy soon to double-check though. And, hm, should I say hi to the Masters too? What if they try to beat me up and steal my house? Hm...what do you think, Mr. Bear?" She asked, turning her head to a small stuffed animal that was sitting in another one of the seats at the opulent dining table. After receiving no response, the woman let out a sigh. "I really should put a soul in you, one of these days." She mumbled, pushing some cereal underneath the milk for a few seconds.
"Mr. Video, get over here, please!"
At the Second Owner's call, something stumbled into the room. It seemed to be a homunculus, analogous in appearance to a white clay doll of short stature, lacking real human features. Attached to its right hand was what looked like a camcorder.
"Okay, so, get your friends and start walking around town and looking for Servants. I want aaaaall the fights recorded, the movie we'll make from this is going to be great! I can even sell it to the Association once the war finishes!"
"Well for now," Wes said, "we have the exciting work of unpacking and assembling... pretty much everything. All the electronics I bought need to be configured to my laptop, we have spell tags and other neat little weapons to make, and the rat needs occasional tending to for the next four to five hours, at which point I will be ready to release him and start making more rats. And maybe birds. Basically... we're gonna be cooped in the cabin for the rest of the day."
Wes thought for a moment on how to make this task seem slightly less depressing.
"We should be able to finish in time for sunset, though, and once we've completed all our preparations, we won't really have much to do for the rest of the war besides making a few trips to the city now and again. I was thinking maybe... we could fish?" he added hopefully. "Go swimming maybe? It'll be like a vacation. Now, how do I get you started..."
Wes fiddled with the boat's controls. He'd never driven one before but it couldn't be that hard, could it?
Berserker's cowlicky "ears" appeared to flare briefly as she took note of a magus, most likely hostile, trying to shut down her magic circuits and leave the vicinity before being noticed. She wasn't a Master though, so Berserker let it go. It was, frankly, none of her business.
"Give me your finest spirits, whelp," she said to the bartender. "I wish to sample the luxuries of this land."
