The city was odd.Very odd, the very air itself charged with something. Yet even if he cared, even if he knew of the circumstances surrounding the city and the ritual that descended upon it there was nothing he could do.

To starve, to be cold, to be living a life without friend or family. Surrounding him were but enemies and rivals, that of the dockworkers that so held the treasures of the sea in a vice-grip. The fish that they dug up from deep in the sea were a dreamlike bounty, able to feed one for days. Some of the fish were behemoths that could even be enough to feed one for nine lifetimes.

The fact that humans not only caught such treasures, but also brought them into the harbor by such obscene amounts day by day both terrified, and induced wonder in him. But he was but a cat, so it did not matter what he felt. He simply acted as needed to survive, to not starve.

This city of humans was something that he lived in. It was a place where he survived, a place that he held no love for. There were no great concepts or higher-order thoughts in his mind, no ability to truly contextualize the many things he saw and were surrounded by.

All that he knew is that he lived in a world where he starved, watching a world of plenty.

There was no need to snatch fish, competing with the dockworkers as of late, the rodents that scurried around the city gathering in massive hoards. They too were acting odd, a mirror and reflection to the strange air that settled upon the city.

So they had been eating well as of late. At times the mice were strangely savage, fighting back and acting with a will beyond what they usually held. But they were still food, and so they ate and feasted.

But there was desire for something greater, an easier, more filling meal. All the more when suddenly one day the rats began to dwindle.

Ah, a fish.

Abandoned in the streets of the docks where no human lied. Fresh, still holding the vigour of life, and even a little damp. Strangely he smelled the scent of others of his kind, but did not see anyone else come to contest this prize.

So he, without reservation went in. If it was a trap then it was a trap well worth it. The guiding instinct of a beast warned him, yet the growl in his stomach pushed him on. It was not a matter of deciding that it was an illogical trap, that there was no reason for someone to bait out cats in such a way.

It was simply a matter of food being before him, and him requiring it.

His teeth sunk in, slipping past the scales and he- The world became dark, and he found himself drowning in the cries of his brethern.

What…

What was this?

He was drowning in a sea of cats. His kin were forced together in some cruel sealed off world. The salted breeze was no longer there, and he found himself losing himself to the heat, and hunger and claustrophobia. Let him out, let him out, let him out.

He felt the claws of other cats on his body, he heard the others cry out, acceptance of their situation drowned out by a momentary burst of desire as the newcomer was brought in with the fish.

He clung to the fish. It was his, it was his fish. No matter what world he was thrusted into, no matter how many of his kin crawled upon his body, that would not change.

Something happened.

The world they were stuffed in suddenly shifted, whatever they were in suddenly sent flying at speeds that exceeded that of the devices and vehicles of mankind.

It came to a stop and he heard cracks, of his kin, of his own body.

Blood gushed, bones shattered, and amongst the cries of cats all of them heard one faint and yet clear thing. The death cry of a rat.

Something primal stirred in them, a role of theirs reinforced and fulfilled as a vermin died. Mixing in with their pain, with their hunger, with their confinement. That feeling took a certain form, and mixed together.

Together the cats suffered.

Together the cats witnessed death.

Together they saw the death of vermin.

As night fell the harbor was strangely silent, an unease settling in that even a normal human could feel.

Ah… but more importantly.

He tasted his own blood dripping into his mouth, leaking past a broken fang still clutching a fish.

He still had what was his.

--
@Argonaut




What was he doing? Asked his master.

He was fishing he answered.

What was he doing? Asked his master.

He was getting cats.

Why was he getting cats? Asked his master.

To kill rats.

Why was he killing rats?

Because that was a good thing to do. That was what his intuition told him, what the voices that guided him told him.

To remove vermin from a city one simply used cats. However the way Lancer utilized that logic was perhaps a bit odd, and quite inhumane. The fish that he gathered earlier were used as bait and food to collect the various strays of the city. Then it was a simple matter of transporting them and using them to kill rats. Stuffed in a bag, the gathering of cats became a strange anti-rat projectile, thrown again and again against rats wherever they were found. Lancer, with his sixth sense found many of them indeed.

When night fell he began his self-given task. The population of the vermin in Fuyuki’s Harbor taking an alarming and significant nose-dive as a result.

The broken bodies of the cats were healed again and again after each use.

Quite alarmingly some of those cats were in fact familiars by some of the masters in the war, giving them a confusing view of the inside of a bag, and a very confusing circumstance that was very hard to understand as far as what their familiars were being subjected to. All that was able to be gathered then was the fact that they encountered an oddly (and poorly) dressed young boy.

-





He smiled, then frowned.

“Hideyoshi, Hideyoshi. Your response is not proper! It seems what you are hungry for then is a correction, and a reprimanding!”

Tlilpojuan swung out with a mighty fist. It was a fist Hideyoshi could follow, but one that simply presented an obstacle, a crushing hoof that he could not stand up against. His body could not follow his sight against such a blow, his knowledge could not compensate for the power that it held.

In the first place the punch of what the magus called teacher was one that was born of the arts he studied, and evolved beyond it.

It stopped before his face, the air pressure rushing over his face, messing up the hair of Hideyoshi even further, and also pushing his head back, straining against his neck.

A slight blast of air that was his way of berating his student, holding the fright of a blow, and yet not holding the damage that came with one. Focused in his fist was a certain killing intent, and yet he held himself back and restrained it from being a blow that made contact with his student each time.

“Hungry for food, hungry for knowledge, hungry for strength, hungry for nothing.

One must survive so that they are able to grow and gain knowledge. Lose or not if you survive you can learn. The ways of some of the swordsmen are foolish, choosing death after loss. One must live heartily so they can grow beyond life. There is no sacrifice in tempering one’s self away from the temptations and ills of life if they have not experienced the poisons and temptations.

Another strike roared out, the jab aimed this time at the chest of Hideyoshi.

It stopped moments before smashing into his chest. Before it could shatter his ribs and burst his heart and veins.

“We are hungry for knowledge for knowledge is a ladder. We wish to climb, but there is nothing to climb if there is nothing to learn.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the most eloquently put, but the man wearing the visage of a horse did not care, nor think that it was anything but profound.

A fourth strike stopped before the side of Hideyoshi. A strike that would have shattered his clavicle, and also his neck. A strike that kills, a strike that knocks one down, a strike that cripples. A strike against those who defied common sense that would not simply be rendered useless with a break, that could withstand a strike to their throat through various means.

“We are hungry.” he paused. The eyes of his mask stared into Hideyoshi, a seeming mirror to the strange logic (insight?) the man held at times. Was it a matter of a madman? An enlightened man? A foreigner’s values? A fool?

“We are hungry for strength as the end of our path, as proof of our growth. If we are strong we gain all we wish, if we walk with our hunger then we will attain strength. Ah? As for what comes first that does not matter. As long as it happens. Our path is not a path of thinking of such things, it simply is a matter of thinking that leads us to something.”

He broke away from Hideyoshi, suddenly releasing all the tension and deadly intent held in his body and waltzed right into the manor. Tlilpojuan dug out a bottle of beer and began to feast, alternating between it and some skewered chicken that he and Saber had decided to partake in as they were going from bar to bar.

“We are hungry for nothing because that is our end goal. I shouldn’t have to say that, should I?”

Ah, the most profound and important step wasn’t even thought about or really discussed!...

A most questionable move by a teacher.

“Please, meet Saber. If you don’t mind I’d like to meet your dinner of the day. Let us eat. We can then go to the Matous and ask to sit in at their dinner as well before talking with them further.”

As the sun fell and the moon rose, pale beams of light refracting off the still waters of the growing marsh, a multitude of colors filled the sky. A miraculous sign that shined life into the swamp.

Yet, like a candle thrown into a bonfire, it's life was quickly snuffed away, only lasting a half minute before disappearing into the dark expanses of the sky. The ephemeral beauty of such a sight belied it's true nature. It was not a sign of good fortune, but an ill portent. It was the beginning of carnage, of future massacre and of death.

Underneath the watchful moon, sat upon a gnarled stump with head hanging, Hamel Della Astrologia did not muse upon this omen. Here, in his swamp, it's status of that of a tomb was once again reinforced by the death of his expectations.

A slow, shaky hand made its way up to his face.

Shock and disbelief, along with some elements of disgust and horror stretched across his face as he witnessed what could only be described as a gross extermination of vermin via bag of felines.

There was a wailing of pain, a sick cracking of bones, and a general disregard for the ethical treatment of cats.

The last one was not one of major concern, but the stains left from the impact of his Servant launching his sack at any moving rat was grotesque and sickening. Should he have expected this? Arguably Hamel should have. His servant had a strange idea of how to go about things, and even though he trusted his servants judgement, he was rethinking his choice in doing so.

Capturing cats was a strange action to take, and going to exterminate rats was another one, but then to throw a sack of captured cats as a method of extermination rather than releasing them so they may fulfill nature's duty was something almost tear inducing.

It was infuriating to know that there was reason for his servants madness and that it would most likely lead to victory. And as Lancer threw his Anti-Vermin Conceptual weapon around, he could only cringe.

Dejectedly, Hamel stood up onto his feet and simply walked to the nearest tree.

'Willow,' he noticed absentmindedly. Finger raised, he began to engrave upon its surface a symbol, ᚄ. A pulse of magical energy entered its frame, its branches letting out a groan as it shifted and uprooted itself, taking on a human like structure as it began to move.

As it moved past its master, Hamel closed his eyes and breathed in the still air.

There was still much to do, while he had made many a preparation a week before he had to limit his scope to an isolated part of Fuyuki lest he catch the attention of the three great families. Now, in proper war time he could expand much more aggressively.

Snapping himself out of his musing, Hamel went onward to the next available surface to write on, engraving runes upon any available surface in preparation for any foolhardy person.

Fuyuki Shopping District
His name is Nise Masuta. A relatively simple man who was born in Fuyuki, and expected to die in Fuyuki. His mother was a weaver, and his father an accountant. He spent his days in the bank, checking maths, counting, and collecting the money of others while living off his own small wage. That was until today, when he learned he wasn't just a pencil pusher. He was a mage! A powerful one with all the wit and tactics required to join the Holy grail war! His servant was the mighty Hercules, hero of greek myth. Naturally his servant was in a spiritual form, so he couldn't be seen at the moment. But deep in his mind he knew, he had to go out, and fight other mages. The command seals on his hand were more than enough proof of his role in life. So walked this skinny man, carrying a knife in his hand, and Hercules invisibly by his shoulder. He walked along Fuyuki's shopping district, passing by the now empty stalls and smiling to himself. Why, he knew for sure that if he ran into another master, his power alone would make him win. As if anything could stand before him!
He passed by the bar, and peeking in he saw somebody. Another master? He waited outside, hands in his pockets, back against another building. Waiting, and ready to fight when they came out of their home.

@Scallop@Kyoka
-----------
Fuyuki Bridge
His name is Oki Usotsuki. He wasn't much, and only moved to Fuyuki within the last year. He kept mostly to himself, avoided the yakuza, and worked in a shopping center. But he had a secret. He was a mage. He knew this because he couldn't be hurt. His magic formed a barrier around him, and protected him from all harm. He knew this because he didn't have a scratch on his body. And with his servant, the mighty hero Hector of Troy, he didn't have to worry about the war at all. The command seals on his hand were proof enough that he belonged here. All three perfectly placed on the back of his hand, letting anybody know who and what he was. He sat on the bridge, watching and waiting for anybody who dared try to cross it. After all, if anybody came to the bridge, he would rise, and declare a fight. A fight he'd win with his servant.
"How exciting!" He said, speaking to the air. Hector was invisible, and had gone to wait and spy. He would materialize soon enough. "This war... I can win! All I have to do it see what the other masters and servants can do, and plan the perfect plan!"
How... Daring.

-----------
Fuyuki East - Station

Damu Baka was confident. He wasn't much to look out. Poor, kind of a wimp, but he was a master in the grail war with access to an assassin servant. Jack the Ripper. That's why Jack was invisible right now, because he wouldn't need to worry about him being spotted. Brilliant tactic, and Damu patted himself on the back. His command seals clearly visible for that moment. Now, he just had to find another master, to start an alliance. But who could he trust? Well, if worst comes to worse, he had Jack to protect himself.





Roland was... Well immediately confused when his master made to attack the other. Weren't they supposed to be good friends? And then he realized that customs probably never changed. After all, he could recall the many times he and Astolfo had butted heads as a sign of greeting. Or when he fought another of the paladins over the first cup of wine. Or how the first time he had met Olivier, his greatest companion and his lance, they had met with their blades striking the other. In fact, the idea of clashing swords with other heroes excited him. Without speaking, he waved his hand to their host. "Well, Mr Tohsaka, you and your master are an interesting pair. Don't let him break your nose though, we don't need any casualties on the first night." He smiled from ear to ear, and followed into the manor, before realizing... He had failed to introduce himself. "Oh yes, you may call me S-" And then he paused, because inside the house he could see a shadow. A familiar kind of tilt to the helmet, and... Why did he feel like this was the right place to be.

Roland went silent as he walked towards the table, and the figure came more and more into view. His hand jumped to the handle of his sword, and before either could greet the other, his blade was in motion. Spinning into his hand, the long blade was as light as a dagger in his grip. He spun it around as if it was far shorter than it was, and yet with such grace that he seemed perfectly fine with the longer length. In less than a second he had covered the gap of the room, blade over his head, and striking down with force. "My companion! You live!" He laughed, as if his heart was exploding with emotion. "How are you doing!?" He let his voice fill the house, as he would begin a duel. Not a lethal one, but not a gentle one either. As if he wished to express his love, through a display of sword. "I missed you so dearly, and I prayed that we would see each other again in heaven! But here you are, able to join me once more in our quest for victory!" His blade would flash about, aiming to strike metal against metal. To clash, to dance, to sing a song that only blades could sing. He wanted this. He wanted to enjoy this tender moment with the other servant he could recognize at a glance. "Oh this is a gift from my uncle and God! The angels sing for us!"

@Kyoka@Sageage@Seirei No Hai

@Breo

“The Grail isn’t something I care for myself,” Benita flatly told her Servant. Of course, this was the only logical statement someone in her position could muster to consider, even if it had come out as if a preprogrammed response to his inquiry.

It was simple enough. Though it was clear that a cup as great as the Holy Grail; a shared nomenclature of the chalice that Jesus Christ himself had drunken out of, would be a great boon to whoever had held it within their grasp. A “path to the 「」” that all magi sought after fervorously and without fail, but to deny this idea was something alien to someone who would consider themselves “proper” magi, or at least her records said such to be true.

“I was made to be the victor of this war. And while it is the victory I care of, the Grail itself can go to the birds if that is what wills it. I was designed to win this war, and thus I have no wish, and I have no greater aspirations; a soldier only does the mission they are ordered to, after all.”

Perhaps to a Servant, a being summoned by the Grail in order to be the victor of the contest and grasp the object with their own power; someone who wanted the Grail for the wish it would provide, would be appalled and disgusted by Benita’s clear disregard of the object as an “item for the birds”, but this was the truth. If a heroic spirit was the copy of someone who ended up being a savior for humanity and an inspiration for their aspects, then perhaps the hollow husk of a person, only awakened by a certain individual, was not far off from this aspect.

“If there is an issue with that then I suggest ending our contract immediately. My goal is not the Grail, but my goal is to win the Grail War. And I would not expect anything less than excellence from my familiar (Servant). But my victory would be yours as well. Take from it as you desire, but I shall not partake in the slightest bit.”

A false existence that existed to win a false contest. It would be no wonder that someone programmed in such a manner would not care for the prize. The victory was the only important aspect of this war from their perspective, and though they wished to have summoned an assistant Servant that could support, it was not as if they were against actions on their own. After all, they had always existed on their own, so being able to act independently from their employer’s child would likely have been preferred.

So long as her Servant remained appurtenant she would have no issue in concluding the Grail War as a victor, seeing as his stats were greater than most other Servant examples she had been given. Perhaps it was more clear that a Servant would only have one or two good parameters, but hers seemed to have a higher baseline stat than what should be acceptable as a Lancer, closing in on a legendary spirit ... that she didn't know the name of.



@ManyThings@Breo

It was around this time where Benita and Achilles had reached shot of the Matou house. Of course, the sky flickered with the mighty lights of some unknown force that soared across the sky. Taking note of their trajectory, as well as their beauty, Benita seemed transfixed on these objects before soon being brought back to reality by realizing her surroundings.

A great house.

The place that she had marked on her map.

Taking out her map, she scribbled something with a pen she had before continuing forward.

A Servant and their Master had arrived near the manner. And Benita’s Command Spells began to burn. It was impossible for the Master inside the house to not realize that there was a Servant outside. And though Benita was hired by the Grandfather, there was a chance that the Master inside the house was hostile to their presence.

It wasn’t as if Benita and the Matou Master had spoken to one another ever. And it wasn't as if her employer had ever spoken about them until recently. Surely Mr. Matou had told the Matou Master about her arrival, right?

Even if it was a low chance of possibility, there was also the possibility that the Matou heir cared not for their grandfather’s wishes and simply wanted to take the Holy Grail with their own hand. It would be foolish for Benita to bite the hand of the child like a dog afraid of their master’s child, but if the child was at fault for the actions, she could hardly be blamed as to what would occur.

She waited at the gate, waiting for the other to realize their presence and confront them.

After the unfortunate breach of his definitely well concealed well protected base, Ludwig had went into the normal mode of over thinking. This started with moving all valuables out of view. Then during the day after a brief discussion with "Athena" he had began hiring wanderers and himself to begin the transfer of his laboratory and equipment through the city to an Inn just by the harbour. After a brief conversation with the inn owner, and him presenting a hefty ammount of gold the family had given to him, he had acquired the entire top floor of the inn for the week.

After getting the majority of his equipment there, setting up tubes and a work bench, situating his cauldron as well, Ludwig secured the floor and went back to the bar where he had stationed Archer for the mean time. Walking through the streets, the masked alchemist was almost certainly a sore thumb in his long over coat and the mask with his long blond hair. As strangers whispered and talked about him as he passed by he stood in the middle of the street staring at the sky. As colour and mana blossomed in the oncoming night, he stood there frozen. The grail war was at hand. He was a participant.

A laugh escaped his masked lips as he returned to the bar, gazing upon what remained of his set up, stray bottles and flasks here and there, a large flask remained on the bar top, screwed shut and a label that read in German "tödlich". he smiled as he allowed Archer to stay out of spirt form and nodded to her. "The war has begun Archer! So far since the intrusion there have been no complications, after we arrive at the new base, we shall decide on our first move!" He gave her a smile, just visible poking out of his mask as he turned.

After gathering the rest into a rucksack he passed her too a long coat. "Here! It will help blend in, and truth be told, walking alone is not the best idea, would be nice to have someone else walking alongside me" with that he left the bar and gestured for her to follow before turning a corner and catching his breath. A man with a knife laid in waiting and he had glimpsed him in the nick of time.

Suddenly a small green vial was in his hands. "You who lurks in the shadows! Reveal yourself!"

@Reflection @Kyoka

---

They hadn't wanted him to come here. He was the head of the house, after all. They needed him with them. Needed him to fulfill his role, to lead. If he was being honest, he hadn't wanted to come here, either- a fetid backwater, crawling with the cockroaches of the Association. No quarry to hunt, no skills to hone- nothing but whining children jockeying for more power and influence. Disgusting.



But he had to come here. He had to. And if the idea was sickening to him, so be it. This game of theirs, this "war," it was the only way. The only absolute, the only hope he had. To the victor went the spoils, and he would be the victor. It was the only way his wife and brother were ever coming back.



War. Ha. These children thought they knew war, just because they killed each other. They saw some kind of glory in this, some prestige. But war had a distinct lack of both. He should know. Kirishima were raised in war, baptized in it, forged by it. Their war never ended, not so long as the dead and damned walked the earth. They wanted a real war? They'd get it. He'd deliver a real war straight to their door.



Suzaku Kirishima, deep in the mausoleum beneath the church he'd captured, watched the magic circle before him explode into light, face set in a grim line. There was no turning back now. On some level, he knew he should be worried- pampered and spoiled these Association families may be, but they were still magi. Still dangerous. But he was strangely at ease about the whole situation. Because this was a war, after all. And there was nowhere else a Kirishima felt more at home. Especially if that Kirishima was him.

The light faded, and Suzaku blinked the spots from his eyes as he waited for the dust to settle, and reveal just what sort of Servant he'd summoned.

---

---

Victor had to admit that he may have... slightly underestimated his Master. Though the title still tasted like ash on his tongue, he had to admit that, as far as the possibilities went, Vlado was far from the worst he could have gotten. The boy had taken his contempt in stride, rather than deride him for some perceived lack of respect and decorum, and merely set about assuring him and Franziska of the measures he'd taken to ensure their victory. It was... almost refreshing. Victor sighed, wiping down the surgical blade in his hands, then reaching for the suture.

He gazed down fondly at the patchwork amalgamation on his workbench. He'd started working on Franziska's first "brother" soon after Vlado had finished showing him around the compound he'd secured. Victor had quickly taken up residence in one of the buildings, setting the bounds of his territory, as was proper. He had even been excited to learn that one of the corpses in the nearby graveyard was particularly fresh, courtesy of his Master's machinations. The body had been aged, but still strong and healthy; stubbornness had apparently done the man some good in his life. With some other odds and ends in place, generously donated by some other relatively fresh leavings, and the metals Vlado had procured, his second-born child in this world was coming along nicely.

Franziska padded into the room, concern etched on her features. Victor immediately took notice, leaving the piecemeal corpse behind him- he wasn't alive quite yet, he wouldn't mind- and walking over to his daughter.

"Franziska, dear, what's wrong? Something troubles you?"

The girl shuffled. "...Lights, Father." Victor tilted his head, puzzled.

"Lights? I'm afraid I don't--"

"In the sky, Father. Lights of all different colors, streaking across like stars. I think... I think it's started."

Victor cursed under his breath. He'd hoped he would have a little more time, but it seemed fate had a different idea in mind. He stepped forward, wrapping Franziska in a fatherly embrace.

"Worry not, my dear. Our enemy may be strong, but we are stronger. Rally yourself, my Franziska- we must be ready if we are to triumph." He gave her another tight squeeze, then released, walking back to his workbench. "Send Vlado here- he deserves a demonstration of our capabilities. Then, patrol the grounds for any interlopers. I'll send your brothers and sisters to join you as I finish them."

The girl nodded, hefting her mace. "...Be careful, Father. Some of them can be... restless, when they first wake up."

Victor nodded, hands working in a precise frenzy to finish. "Thank you, Franziska. Take care out there."

He didn't hear her leave, though she knew she must have. Such a dutiful child. Hopefully this one would be just as diligent. He couldn't afford to discipline any unruly children, not at this juncture. He descended back into his fugue, eyes flicking upward to the other bodies he'd acquired earlier that day. And with war on the horizon, his supplies would only grow.

The curtain was rising. It was time to show this little city exactly the kind of play they were in.

@floodtalon

Summoning initiated

Catalyst absent.

Compatibility assessment. Records scanned.

Error. No matches found.

Expanding parameters...

Match found.

Class container selected.

Shaping Saint Graph to container...

The light that blinded Suzaku faded to reveal a tall man, over six feet tall if Suzaku was to do a quick estimation, clothed from head to toe in blue including his hair. A persistent glow emanated from his eyes as they darted all over the room, carefully observing the conditions of his summoning grounds. "How curious..." He muttered as lightning arced off of his body and onto the floor persistently, flexing his left fist which was covered by a strange metallic gauntlet that hummed with energy. "To be summoned here of all places. What an anomaly." His lips formed a smile as his eyebrow quirked up in surprise. Finally he took note of his Master, a stern looking fellow with something to prove. That's good, he was much the same in life.

"I am servant Archer, a man who has grasped the power of the gods in his hands. If it pleases you, you may call me Nikola Tesla. Now then, there is much work to be done if we are to grasp the Holy Grail." And with that, Nikola Tesla took his first step into the Second Holy Grail War, the Holy Grail War of 1888. The same year he crystallized his legend.

---

Tesla stared out at the sky with a smile, taking in a deep breath as he turned the iron rod in his hands over and over. An arc of electricity shot from his shoulder, immediately being drawn to the rod in his hands. A rainbow appeared in the sky, Tesla's smile fading as he stared at the lights with a neutral expression. The rod was tossed to the side, crumbling into dust as he headed back into the church to alert his Master of the new development. He headed to the mausoleum quickly, calling out to Suzaku with an urgent tone. "Master! Are you ready to head out for the night?" He turned the corner to find his Master handling any preparation for the night, stopping as he stared at Suzaku.

"The signal has been sent out, the Holy Grail War begins now. Are you ready to claim the Holy Grail?"

---

Francizka would not need to send Vlado over, for he was already entering the room with a loud yawn. He bumped into Francizka as she left to go get him, knocking him over while she remained firmly rooted in place. Vlado yelped in surprise as he hit the floor, landing on his butt with a thud and a small groan of pain. "Ah, my apologies Franziska. I am not used to such cramped spaces, there is usually much more room to move around in my family home." The european got up quickly with a sheepish smile, rubbing his back end as he mumbled about his tail bone. "Now then, what's this I hear about starting? Has the war already begun?" As he asked this he moved around Francizka, letting her go patrol as he stared at Caster's current project.

"My my, not afraid to get your hands dirty I see. Not like Magus nowadays, so afraid to get a little dirt under their fingernails. They only care about theory, it's so boring." As he looked up he noticed corpses all around, blinking in surprise. "You're quite the busy bee aren't you Sir Victor? Makes me feel lazy in comparison." In truth, he probably was. He had spent the day reading a book on Curse Theory, one he was writing no less. He wanted to look over it one more time before he sent it to the Clock Tower for publishing, nothing less than perfect would be accepted when it came to Curses after all. "I do hope you have a plan for these corpses and you're not just collecting them as decorations." Vlado teased lightly as he sat down in a nearby chair overlooking Caster's work.

“Hmm.”

The Servant had not said anything for a while, merely mulling over her words in blissful silence — forgetting about the situation and her age and simply taking them as they were. Certainly, it would be hypocritical of him to say anything about not desiring the Grail, considering he couldn’t care less about the cup himself, but still. . .

To risk one’s life, to stake everything for ‘victory’ was something he himself had done on a regular basis — and would continue to do for however long this second life he had been granted lasted.

But it wasn’t just ‘victory’ in his mind.

“Well, it doesn’t really concern me, but are you sure that’s all there is to it?” He asked. It simply did not sit right with him. “To begin with, there’s only so much you can do with the time you are allowed, Master — you shouldn’t waste it limiting yourself to ‘following orders’.”

After all, what he had gone to those beaches for was. . .

Glory. Eternal and everlasting, all for the sake of that promise he had made so long ago.

For his mother, his father and his teacher — for their sake, so that they could watch on proudly as he lived and died like a proper hero.

And for his own sake, as well — to show the world his proof of legend, to hear his name in every breath, to burn as brightly as possible before his life was snuffed out, the destiny that awaited all men.

It had not changed even now. His life was that of a shooting star, plain and simple.

“. . .Maybe you should start by smiling some more. It’s concerning to watch so serious an expression all the time — live a little, Master. Otherwise when you make it to the end, you might find out you had been dead all along.”

Ah, perhaps he had stepped on more serious matters than he had intended to, considering he was talking to a ki.

“That said, I won’t abandon you over this. To begin with, it’d be very inconvenient to try and find another magus agreeable to a contract, and I’m not one you can get rid of so easily”

A lopsided smile was shot in her direction before the Lancer let the matter rest and turned toward the building in front of them. It had still rubbed him the wrong way, but there were more important matters at hand for the moment and it wasn’t his place to order her how to live her life. Whether she heeded the advice or not, it wasn’t his business.

That sort of outlook, though. . .

It was still much too sad.

@phonic

---

“Ah,” She stretched her arms up after finishing the latest of her preparations, revelling in a job well-done. “Well, that should be it for now, hm? After all, it would not do to spend the opening night without having even called my Servant, would it?”

It was, after all, a perfectly normal concern given the circumstances — the Grail War had officially begun, and although she was confident in what she’d accomplished with her preparations, she doubted it could not be bettered or that she had accounted for everything — or everyone. It would not do to have her fortress fall like a house of cards this early.

Still, what an interesting opportunity this little vacation had turned out to be.

“I hadn’t expected this little backwater to attract so much attention. . .” She mused, running a hand through her hair and brushing some of the red locks out of her face.

Well, it was not entirely true. The factory was practically bound to send someone considering their stakes in this, as well the other two families involved, but still. . .what a gathering it had turned out to be. She had not expected so many magi holding the rank of Fes — or higher — to pop out of the woodwork like this for a backwater ritual.

Perhaps it was hypocritical of her to say so, but she was, after all, a necromancer — they thrived on battlefields and merely followed them to obtain materials for their research. She had thought to take a break, gather some reagents and then go back home, but this was even better than she had expected.

She smiled down at the black sarcophagus she had deposited in the middle of the graveyard. It appeared that she had not made a mistake when she thought it convenient to bring them along.

Ah, but enough of that. There were matters to attend to.

Her pace quickened as she headed toward the location she’d instructed the corpses to draw the circle in. The job was satisfactory and precise, as expected of her assistants, and she stood at attention in front it.

Raising one hand in its direction, she opened her mouth to recite the words, but at the last moment, she hesitated.

She was not doing something like ‘reconsidering her course’-- far too late for that even if she wanted to. It was just. . .

“Hm, it’s night, the moon shines well enough, the location is suitable. . .but there’s something missing.”

Was she intending to summon at the best possible time? Perhaps she had forgotten a catalyst?

However, all she did was nod to some of the zombies she had risen and stood to the side, holding. . .

—this had to be a joke. A terrible, terrible joke, some would have said as the first notes started playing.

But it was not, and soon, the band she had assembled started playing a soft tune that merged with the background sounds, such as the wind rustling the grass, adding the element she was looking for. This was, certainly, the greatest of her preparations.

There were more, of course, but she did not need the whole orchestra right now. Right, where was she?

“Hm. . .Silver and iron to the Origin. . .”

Right, right, that was the incantation. The marks on her hand began to glow as she went through the lines, but while she maintained an impassive façade, there was no denying the fact that the ritual was quite dull, so she allowed her mind to lose itself to the music, letting her body work on autopilot.

And through it all, the circle began to shine brighter and brighter still—



And the blinding light consumed the graveyard.

@Red Alice

She had followed her Master around the house, an extra hand with the preparations for dinner and in full armor no less. They were to meet a guest today and her Master Tohsaka claimed that they were close friends, despite this claim, she would come prepared if they thought about attacking her Master unprepared, this was a war after all and alliances don't last very long in cases like these. Nevertheless, she knows her status as a Servant and is meant to follow the commands of her Master as per the contract settled upon summoning.

"Saber. It seems our guests have finally arrived, wait here it shall only take a moment. It is my duty to welcome any guests personally."

With a simple nod and a one-word response: "As you wish, Lord Tohsaka." She answered in an androgynous voice and stayed put with her sheath-less sword by her waistbelt. And it was only when night came that the expected guests arrived.

From her spot in the manor she had seen the other Master, who... by her puzzled look hidden from behind her helmet questioned such style. How long has it been? Did people started wearing horse masks? Is this person a reverse-centaur from Greek legend? She does not know, of all the people she has heard encountered in her lifetime, Astolfo's hippogryph, a Saracen giant, a castle made entirely out of glass... there are still some things that need to be answered and the "horse master" is one of them. Of course, she gripped the hilt of her sword upon noting his intent to harm her Master, only to stop just inches away from his face, almost reminiscent of her long-time companion Roland who would often pick a fight both wrong and right. She would smile, lightly giggling behind the mask.

When the other Master's Saber came, her smile just widened and a fangirly screech echoed mentally in her head. To think that Roland, of all people was this "horse man's" Servant.

She gripped her hilt once more, and twisted the mechanism near it, extending her prized sword, Hauteclere into a spear to block the incoming "greeting" with a loud clang from Roland's overhead strike.

"My companion! You live!" The bearer of Durandal greeted. She chuckled with a hearty laugh and matched his attacks with each parry she could find within each thrust, slash and cut. She used the reinforced parts of her armor to block all other attacks that cannot be reached by her spear-sword alone. "Is this how you greet your old friend, Sir Roland? As barbaric as ever, I see. You never change." She remarked, clashing with each strike, twirling her body around and in that armor no less nearly getting scrapes from the indestructible blade that he carried.

"I missed you so dearly, and I prayed that we would see each other again in heaven! But here you are, able to join me once more in our quest for victory!" He cheered once more, only for her to turn his strike into a long clash between blades. Olivier's visor had opened, her sapphire irises looking straight into Roland's own with a challenging smirk. "And I you, Roland."

@Kyoka@Sageage@Reflection

What came next was a most underhanded union of oni and magus -- for one hate-filled technique to meet another, meshing together into a putrid mess of power.

But that was all boring stuff which nobody really wanted to hear about.

With her part in aiding her Master’s research done, she left him to his fun, turning instead to the city which surrounded her, leaving as a spirit. A welcome break from the young man, once the accordion got involved he became a degree more intolerable than he already was.

With the sun still high, she began her search for the targets. It was not time to take lives, but to learn about them instead.

And so she took to the roofing of the town, her form shifting. She held a body for minutes at a time, changing to another at snap of a finger. With the passing of the sun through the sky, wandered the area known as ‘Miyama’ to the locals, the eastern region of the place called ‘Fuyuki’.

She saw much, Master and Servant alike going about their initial activities. For some, she even stood beside them. Her better wisdom told her to avoid a certain mansion, but the one belonging to a ‘Tohsaka’ did little to sway her brazen information gathering. A pair of foreigners, the Whitehall's her own Master had informed her.

But then there was one. A foreign Servant who, by all rights, she should not have been able to recognize on sight. The sight alone was enough to remind her of the Minamoto. The presence of a ‘human’ hero, true and pure. She did not get too close to that one. The flood of information that came with the sight of his armor was enough to stop her from sniffing around too long.

But more importantly was the Servant who resided within the Temple. ‘Ruler’, she had overheard.

Really, it was a productive venture. She returned to her Master’s workshop satisfied with her work, making sure to leave the alchemist to his work. She rewarded herself with silence, huddling away in a corner and enjoying the smoke and quiet.

The Assassin was a much easier to please creature, compared to her Berserker self.

The sun was setting on the town when she emerged from her new base of operations, feet planted firmly on the roof of one of the many, relatively new, buildings that appeared to be littering the region, the signs of a land bustling with fortune and pride. One arm folded across her chest, hand held in place by her other, the hand of which held her pipe loosely off to the side of her lips, she appraised the state of the Japan before her, just in time to see the streaks of light breaking through the sky, catching her attention for the few moments they brightened up the sky.

A suitable greeting for her return. Although not a king, she was an existence on par with -- if not outright exceeding -- such a position. But, of course, she was not so full of herself as to think it was for her in particular. Any fool with half a brain could have figured out that such a brazen display, seemingly without much meaning, was an announcement.

One which she took as a gift.

Taking off with a crack of tile beneath her, she repositioned, a bundle of yellow rags darting through the air, enjoying its newfound body for but a few seconds before shifting.

A girl turned to a woman, face dressed in graceful makeup, her hair turning a radiant blonde to black. The beautiful woman became an old man garbed in the armor of a warrior, his face locked in a rictus of terror, his eyes hollowed out. The living corpse became a humble yamamayu, its body inked in the signature colours of her true form, a decadent gold lined with a vibrant vermillion.

The king of oni settled herself into such a body with ease, the motion of bone and flesh shaping into a different species as natural to her as breathing. Small, a mere insect to be swat aside, she flew, and began her scouting, starting with…

A man standing alone on a bridge. Despite over eight centuries passing since her time as the ruler of Mount Ooe, humanity still feared the dark, heading to their dwellings to cower. So, naturally, spotting the lone man with what appeared to be the Mark of a Master on the back of his hand was not a difficult task.

As was killing him.

Garbed in the form of a monk, she withdrew her hand from the man’s back, and then withdrew once more into the shadows.

It happened as quickly as one might expect an assassination to. One moment he was standing there, proud of himself for his delusional stature, the next there was a hole through his heart, the only hint of a person having done it being the briefest appearance of a temple monk with a lotus flower held in his right hand just before it happened.

Hand washed in the river leading out to sea, off and away, hiding her presence every step of the way, Ibaraki Douji was fully aware that the man was a fake, even before killing him.

She returned to Miyama, intent on gathering more information. If someone was stupid enough to meaninglessly plant fake Masters, then there was no telling what other absurdity the other actors would get up to. Rather than participate, she would watch.

But really, the killing of the fake Master was done more out of frustration than any tactical guile. What a pointless maneuver, one which would not even reveal the capabilities of a Saber, let alone an Assassin.

Perched once more on the low roofing of Miyama, observing the human world, Ibaraki Douji tutted.

“Tch.”

---



Anaxstolas was not alright.

But then, rather suddenly, he was.

Shooting up from his face-down, butt-up position, the boy made finger guns in the direction where his Servant was before he was knocked out by consuming the vile alcoholic spew that was Shuten’s drink of choice.

“I’m totally fine!”

Several hours late. It was even dark.

Then he looked behind him to where Shuten actually was, thrown off his back from his sudden rising. He blinked a few times, putting the two legos together in his very large and very powerful brain.

“Ah. Awawawa…”

The fluffy-haired boy waved his hands about. “Sorry, sorry! My processing was purely focused on balancing my bodies chemical responses to the stuff I drank! It was really hard, it felt like I was gonna die! So I stopped paying attention to outside stimuli.”

“...Which is why I kind of just fell over onto my face. Yeah.”

He’d go with that. It wasn’t because he was fifteen and a lightweight.

That was his story, he was sticking to it, and he goddamn liked it. He beamed at Shuten for a moment, then rolled onto his back and hands, shooting himself back onto his feet in a display of minor athleticism. He offered a hand out to Berserker, the Command Seals on display to her

“Sorry, sorry! I wasted the whole day! We could have been doing other stuff, like visiting the town and getting food. But, we’ve still got time to do stuff! I’m open for suggestions too! I’m not really in this to do all that boring cup fight stuff, so hit me with your best ideas, Berserker!”

He was a very genuine young man, if nothing else. His voice carried an utmost honesty, unwilling to conceal emotions and reactions behind any artificial facades.

Ana was more than capable of constructing actual mental blocks which stopped him visibly reacting to things, anyway.

Strangely enough, the Workshop had continued to grow, even when left to its own devices.

@Kyoka @Sageage @Seirei No Hai

It was a dance, with blade's clashing and dragging against each other. In truth, he hadn't expected such an exciting meeting. But this was Olivier, the paladin he could call his lance. The one he would fight alongside and go into hell with without a question. There was no other he would accept as an ally for this grail war now that he knew she was here. His green eyes stared back into that blue light, and finally, he was satisfied. No, not satisfied. He felt glorious! He let her push his blade to his chest, smiling as that smug look reflected in his eyes.
"Barbaric? Why I take offense to that. I've been nothing but a gentleman since I arrived in this time period!" He pushed back, slowly turning the tables to tower over Olivier. "And what about you? You brought a spear to a sword fight! How dishonorable! Though, uncle would probably laugh at how you manage to have a spear longer than mine." A terrible joke, but if there was any kind of humor he was good at, it was the terrible kind.

Finally satisfied, Roland stepped back, never lowering Durandal until he glanced at the food on the table. "Well well, I see we have a meal already planned out." Roland smiled, and winked to his fellow Paladin and fellow Saber for the war. Taking a seat, he looked to the two masters, who were probably in shock at how easily the two Sabers seemed to get along. "If there was any surprise I expected for this grail war, it wasn't to see you again. I expected uncle, or maybe..." He paused, and bit his tongue. But it was clear who he had thought of. His step-father. The man who had betrayed the two of them to an ambush that had cost them both their lives. "But that is neither here, nor there. It's good to see you again, and to drink with you again, and fight with you again."




Step one had gone over rather flawlessly. The arrival of fake masters would no doubt keep other real masters off the street to avoid confrontation, and better yet draw all familiars to them. So that real masters could operate without the gaze of others spying into their personal business. After all, Xerxes Kaveh wanted to make sure that until he chose to do so, nobody would interfere with his work. And his work, was very important at the moment as he stood at the entrance to the bank. There, the manager stood, already opening the door for him, well after the bank had closed for the night.
"Thank you for your help." The Persian master said, smiling to the older gentleman who had been kind enough to let him into the bank. "You don't realize how much I needed to get inside." He knew the man didn't care, nor could he probably answer that request. The man was no mage, and so to Xerxes that meant an easy use for his... 'Powers.'
"Think nothing of it." The man smiled, and as the doors opened, he and Xerxes stepped inside. A third figure following them. One who had to bend down to step into the room. The bank itself was fairly nice, and it was clearly a result of the value of Fuyuki's wealth. All the rich people sitting around, with their money placed into banks. A western influence Xerxes was sure, as when he had first visited Japan in the 1600's they had still fallen under the sway of a Shogun. How times change.

"Right, you can go pass out in the corner." Xerxes said to the bank manager, holding up a golden rod with an eye at the very top. The gemstone eye in the center shimmered for a moment, and the manager obeyed. Collapsing onto one of the many pieces of furniture that was littered about. Making sure to take the keys before the man passed out, Xerxes walked deeper into the bank. "Berserker, you are to make claim to all the treasures in this bank. Furniture, jewels, gems, bank accounts, and paper. It all has some degree of value." As Fuyuki was a center of western influence in japan, the city drew in enough riches and investors to make this singular bank more than wealthy enough for his needs.

Shuttering the windows, to avoid anybody peeking in while they worked, Xerxes couldn't help but smile. The value of a bank was more than enough for his needs right now. But over time he'd have to start resorting to less... Subtle methods. Besides, robbing a bank wasn't the worst thing he'd be doing today.
The golden light that drifted through the air was more than enough for Xerxes to know that his will was being carried out. In a way, he felt it was right to be stealing from the Matous, the Einzberns, and the Tohsakas. Their wealth and fortunes probably sitting in those very vaults that were being stripped of their gold. Probably for the best. If he had his way, they may not survive the war to even realize they had been robbed.

Taking a seat by the unconscious back manager, he held up a chalice. Placing it down in the table, he filled it once more, and set to work using his time wisely. In particularly he wanted to watch the fake masters. Three of them. The chalice shimmered, and focused on each of the three in turn. Focusing on the one at the bridge at first. The bridge of Fuyuki was the crossroads between the two sides of the city, and that meant, more than anything, that he would be the first to run into actual mages.
And then he was dead. In the chalice, Xerxes could see his killer. Her hand through his heart. Tsk... The Persian sighed, but at the very least this man's death wasn't in vain. He proved one thing to Xerxes. He didn't have a servant like he thought he did. And then the assassin was gone, and the man's body fell the distance into the water with a splash.

It seems the grail war had its first causality. But as he flicked his attention over to another, he saw exactly who he had interest in earlier. "Berserker, wrap it up when you can. We have a place to be soon."




One of them was dead. His heart practically imploded and his body falling into the river below. In a way it was rather pathetic. On the opposite hand, a dead body, even that of a fake master would draw some attention. If discovered. Though it may take a day or two to be fished out of the water.

_____________________________
Fuyuki Shopping District - Nise Matsuda
@Scallop

The man stepped from the darkness, knife spinning in his hand. "Oh, you caught me!" He bowed, and seemed the epitome of a gentleman. "I understand you'd be nervous of a sudden arrival like myself, but lets be honest. I don't believe in the skulking and shadow games that so many other mages are getting involved in. After all, shouldn't this all be good fun?" He glanced over Ludwig's shoulder, as if he was seeing something Ludwig couldn't. "I realize this isn't the nicest of meetings, but I think we could work together? After all, you and I have so much to work with. You have a powerful servant, and so do I. We're both talented mages, aren't we?"" He took a step closer, as if trying to be as friendly as possible. "Besides, I don't even need the grail. I'm in this be-" He paused, as if unsure how to continue. As if... He hadn't been told what he wanted.
But he did know what the mysterious man wanted. That pause broke, and he was on the attack. Throwing his knife through the air, and watching it arc through the air, aimed squarely at Ludwig's chest. Before Ludwig would have time to figure out what was going on, the man tackled at him, striking in the most physical way possible. Suicidal. But... Was that the intent?

---

The Master standing outside matched the description, more or less. Normally, Reiki would have formed a worm body for such an encounter, but in this case she was confident that the shockingly little girl outside was the Italian homunculus whose aid had been arranged for by Zouken. Thus, Reiki stepped outside herself. It was not really such a large risk as Scáthach's runes still provided quite a good defence system, but where a Servant was concerned, all sorts of abilities were possible. With the amount of heroic spirits in the city it would be silly to think that there weren't at least a few who could pass through the defences built into the Matou house foundation and the runecraft of an ancient hero.

A good thing her ally had summoned a Servant. It was always on the table that she should attempt it, and with the cap for participants having seemingly been completely done away with it was only common sense that she would have succeeded. Besides, an advantage like multiple Servants allied together was the only obvious way to ensure victory in a free-for-all with dozens of deadly players like this one.

Reiki leaned on the iron bars of the gate, putting her face between two of them. "Hi there, good evening. I'm Reiki Matou, and you must be Benita Garibaldi!" She shifted her weight and pushed one of the gates open, inviting the Italian and her Servant into the yard.

"There're scads of players in this war, so we'll be in a bad place if we're too aggressive right off the bat." She spoke as she beckoned the two to follow her past a small gazebo which was seemingly prepared for some sort of festivity, and up to the front door of the manor. "Basically, make yourselves at home for now." She made to open the door, and simultaneously Scáthach, who had apparently returned the that unusual, revealing, skintight jumpsuit and golden headdress she had been wearing when she was summoned, burst imperiously forth."Master, that war has started. Modern clothing was a little enjoyable during downtime, but from now on I will be dressing as a proper warrior ought to."

Stopping in the doorway, she gazed down at the new arrivals. Reiki could never judge much from her Servant's expression, but she could've sworn she saw a little smile cross her lips when she met eyes with Benita's Servant. "So, this is my Servant. We can discuss sharing true names if you'd like, but for now you can just call her Lancer. And how about..." She looked the homunculus' Servant up and down properly for the first time and noticed the long spear he carried. "...That might end up being kind of confusing."

---

---

If anyone had been around, they would have been in shock from the sight of a man having his heart destroyed and silently falling off the bridge and into the river. Surely with the poor lighting of night, as their eyes tried to track him beneath the surface, they would not have noticed the things that slipped into the water from ground level.

They swam. Even if it was unnatural for such creatures, they gyrated their bodies in such a way that they efficiently caught up to the dead body of the fake master being carried downstream. Working as a group, platoon sixty-seven pushed their meal up so just his head and shoulders lay on dry land before digging in.

They were efficient. In less than a minute, even his clothes were gone.

And now they were sustained. Much more, and they would have enough energy to breed again.

One man's corpse is another mage's mana.

---

---

Their controller was troubled, but oddly gratified. She had always wanted to use them to fight crime. Besides, a not insignificant portion of the Matou's nonmagical assets were in the process of being stolen.

They had already observed those inside as they entered, and so as they flew towards the bank they shifted into the correct formation for the situation. One enemy was a heroic spirit. Moreover, one with immense physical might even as such spirits are concerned. Thus, even if every unit in the city gathered they would be nothing more than a visual obstruction to him. Therefore, they would assault the Master while remaining spread out in a way that made it inefficient to target each insect with an attack.

They were flying piranhas. Any one of them could shave off a good chunk of flesh if they made contact. They flew silently. The buzzing, a sound that naturally set off fear in the instincts of most creatures, didn't begin until they burst through the door. Then, they split into groups.

A few held back around the doorway as a deterrent.

A large group in a straightforward assault on the Persian man.

A larger one scattered around the room before half reformed behind him while the other half waited for counterattack.

A tiny group, puffed up to look large, flew in front of the Berserker as a distraction.

Another staying close to the ceiling to descend if an opening appeared.

It was nearly instantaneous, as though a sandstorm had entered the room.

Eh, what’s this now? A call?

That’s strange. I’m pretty sure I left it on mute.

Huh? Compatibility summon? I guess I’m interested now. I wouldn’t be too against working with someone that can get me. They must be some amazing underdog or some real cunning fella-

What the fuck was that?

You’re saying the reason it’s me is because a stolen watch and wallet was used as a catalyst?!

YOU GODDAMN LYING-



@Argonaut
A summoning is a grand event. One in which a Heroic Spirit, a being of legend and myth is brought forth from the Throne and given temporary form to walk the earth. A being of mystery, shrouded in mist, takes the stage-

“Fuck that’s pathetic.”

...the smoke clears to a thoroughly unimpressive figure rifling through the wallet that had fallen on the floor. Despite his disparagement, he nonetheless pulls out the meager amount of cash left in the wallet and stuffs it into a pouch on his waist. Giving the watches a quick once-over, he tosses them aside, before finally looking at the person in front of him.

“So, you’re the one who summoned me? Good to meet you. I’m Jack, of the class...Saber. Wow, you really messed around with the summoning didn’t you? In any case, let’s get along, Master.” A beaming smile that almost makes his initial actions upon summoning seem like a lie.

“Anything specific you wanted from me?”

Berserker fell backwards as her master sprang up and landed flat on her back with a pout, displeased thoroughly with being so unceremoniously removed from her chair. It wasn't that he was particularly comfortable to lounge on, but it was the right of a king and the prerogative of a hedonist to use another's body as they pleased. Despite this she didn't spill a drop, her wrist was gyroscope steady and the red lacquer bowl stayed perfectly level throughout her trip through the air.

"Darling, you have the softest bones I've ever felt in my life... I don't think your skull is even hard enough to hold all the thoughts in your head." She sounded disappointed, genuinely rather than mockingly.

Without sitting up she threw the dish back again, finishing her sake and noisily licking her lips, and as was her way immediately began to pour anew. No sooner was the liquid past her lips than she raised her legs up, tucked her knees to her chest, and then threw herself back to her feet with a sudden kick forwards. Again nary a drop was spilled, and again she drained her vessel dry as she walked towards him again.

She stared into the empty bowl as she spoke, eyes following the last few drops at the very bottom as she slowly guided them in a circle with a subtle motion of the wrist. "I think it would be wise, no, absolutely necessary to toughen them up immediately if you want to keep up with the appetites of an Oni." Wistful, contemplative... Neither a particularly safe mood for an Oni to be in.

Her contemplations ended suddenly and in a cacophony, like a bolt of lightning from the blue. She threw the empty dish with every ounce of her strength, and it whizzed through the air audibly. Past Ana's face so close he would feel the shadow of death. Between the trees of their workshop and then through the forest itself- quite literally through parts of it by the sounds of crashing timbers as the bowl sliced clean through their trunks. Off into the distance towards... Town.

Her smile returned, bearing fangs, and with them a giggle. She hushed herself a second later and forced a look of mock surprise, placing a hand over her mouth to further insinuate shock. "Oh no, I've gotten all tipsy and dropped my favorite vessel... I can't possibly drink without it, so we had better go and get it yes?"

As she walked past him her arm linked with his, and her fingers laced betwixt his own with a strength that no human could ever pray to deny. "Come along now, Darling~!" She leaned against his shoulder, smiling up at him with laughter in her eyes while she more or less dragged him along the newly made path of fallen trees. Someone was eager to make up for lost time.

@Art of Fun

---

She had noted her servant' seeming melancholy about not being able to use his lovely castle as a base of operations. A sad thing too, it was a nice place that could've been adorned to her liking and still provided more cover and defensive territory than her current compound. Though this compound, and its bounded field, would very much make do. She had gone over the information on the Matous and Tohsakas and such that could be gathered for the conflict, including a note or two about potential alliances. It had been amusing to ponder over a hot and piping up of Earl Grey tea that she had been brought as she had sat and mulled over the papers in her comfortable chair in the compound's lounge, a goose-feather pillow tucked behind her head for an ease of comfort and tea cakes and cookies on the side table between her and her servant's chairs as she sat. Ah, she could've gone to sleep afterwards if it wasn't for the occasion itself, the darkening sky, and indeed she had a mission to complete.

Telling the maids to ensure the bounded field was strengthened as she had said before, and had sent all but one of her familiars out far before it turned dark to scout the woods and maintain a patrol as she sat in luxury. Even Rider had been requested to maintain a partol of the forest and alert her to the slightest instance of intrusions and such, and indeed beyond his power he seemed like the sort of servant she enjoyed having around as well. Though as paranoid as she maybe seemed in a sense with these defensive measures, she took her primary goal as seriously as she did her hedonistic tendencies and ensuring her favorite tea cakes were able to be produced at a whim by the kitchen maids. Which is to say, very seriously indeed, and she desired victory for this conflict as securely as possible.

Though that word came up again in her mind. Alliances. She had no doubt that, being one of the three founders of this ritual, she would be major target of enemies and anyone who was out to forge alliances with the others. To her it would be natural of the Matou's or Tohsaka's tried to gang up against her somehow, though it made her somewhat lower in mood to think of obliterating Zouken's own flesh and blood to fulfill the Einzbern's most fervent wish. But tis' the life of a mage to deal with such things as they came. However, she needed to make some contact for the sake of making her own connections in this, or at least scouting out things.

To this end, she wrote a couple of letters, handing them to one of her personal familiars, before sending it out with the aim of delivering said letters to a couple of the other familiars she had prowling about already in town, for delivery of course, and then coming back to her. The letters would read something along the lines of "Should you find yourself in need of allies in the face of the Matous and their schemes, i hereby offer alliance with you should you find the need for an ally in this war. Send word to me if you wish to ally".

If they they were desperate enough then they could give her an ally, and vice versa in order to further their own goals in the war, different as they might be in the very end. Though a finale amongst the three families was preferable to useless rabble, though the latter could provide better fodder and an easier time later on. It was a small conundrum of sorts. Simultaneously, she took the time to focus on three other familiars that were outside of the forest to go scout about the Docks/Harbor, Matou Residence (this familiar itself ALSO was carrying the other letter), and the last going to the Fuyuki Outskirts to see what might be around there. And of course one familiar would be headed to the Tohsaka's once it got its letter.

Though as a great crash of impact in the woods shook even the compound floor a good ways away, Sophia sat up abruptly in her chair. Something had impacted her woods, but from the feel of it was far from the compound. Suspicious, and utilizing her magecraft to see through the eyes of her closest in-forest familiar she had deployed she began to move it towards the impact site. At the same time she sent a missive to her servant.

"Something had impacted the woods greatly, likely the work of another servant. Head to the impact site and see what has happened, or if there are any signs of what sort of servant deployed what caused that. I would assume an Archer, but we must be sure," the homunculus said, being to the point and precise in her orders before switching gears slightly, "...ah, and if you so desire dinner is about ready. Servants i do not think need to eat or rest or such, but to deny such a pleasure is beyond me."

That, and keeping that servant of hers closer for the night might bode well in case Assassins or their ilk attempted to strike. Or anyone in general for that matter. The bounded field being in place, and three of her familiars going about, would detect and be able to find any familiars that entered the area. Or any other individuals for that matter. And her servant would be able to handle any servants that could potentially get past things as well, perhaps detect them or such things. However it best woekd out.

Now was the time to switch between familiars over the next while to see what would go on, what she could learn, what she could observe. TGo this end she also called in a maid with a stack of papers and ink and quill. She would need all of this to be jotted down, and writing it down herself would be a bit of a stretch for multi-tasking, unlike any of those Atlas freaks if they were around Fuyuki for this war. Blech. Speaking of which, its wouldn't be unfeasible for Atlas to fund a master all the way over here. A somewhat scary thought, though she herself also had funds. Albeit she didn't have any funds being kept in the local banks, at least, having moved them to the compound alone prior to the war's start. Hah. She wanted to make sure she had her thing close by, just in case other magi got ideas or she needed to purchase things with limited public involvement.

@Cu Chulainn@Reflection

---

---

---

As the odd bird-like familiar flew over the Dock/Harbor area, it began to pick up some odd things as it observed the area below. Other than the usual view of rats and the usual things that stalked the now-quiet area it spied an odd thing. A badly dressed, young boy who was....what was in that bag? As the familiar perched out of reach and observed from a supposedly safe distance, it observed the behavior of the boy using cats as a means to start clearing rats from the docks. With his method, of course a familiar in the air would be drawn to observe the odd and somewhat abusive use of the cats in this manner. However, to Sophia on the other end, it was all an odd sight that wasn't quite normal, especially with the boy's more European appearance making it glaring that he was not from here at all.

Potentially a servant or a master. Noted. Sophia noted this event and details of the observed character aloud to a maid, one standing near her who was jotting down Sophia's observations at a hectic speed.

However, this same familiar would observe an odd thing as well. The concentration of rats was astonishing to say the least, abnormal on levels that could only suggest the potential presence of a magus or a Caster. This too would be noted. Potentially....was this poorly dressed thing combating another magus' attempts to use rats? Regardless, this place was now of note as a potential enemy location, a place a base could be or such, and where at least one potential servant seemed to be taking actions right now.

@Argonaut@Seirei No Hai@Sageage

---

---

---

The second familiar sat a small distance just outside of the bounded field of the Tohsaka estate, upon the lower rung of a tall post for telegraph lines. Sounds from inside could be heard, the clash of something or another at least. Curious, Sophia didn't have the bird enter the bounded field proper. She knew the Tohsaka master would be there, and had the bird wait on its perch. It would be very visible from its position from any window of the western-style estate, and so Sophia hoped the Tohsaka master would have the tact to look outside at some point tonight and see an obvious familiar with a letter visibly waiting.

@Kyoka@Seirei No Hai@Sageage@Reflection

---

---

---

Ah. As this familiar continued on observing the activity on the outskirts, near the edge of a clearing seemed to be a line of trees cut down by some force, in a row as if something had been....thrown. The familiar perched a little ways away, using its vision at a distance to look at the scene, observing from the branches as Sophia had the information dictated down about the location. That path seemed to be aimed towards the town itself, and was perhaps not a coincidence of sorts. Regardless, this was the likely location of a workshop in her mind, since only a servant could perhaps cause that much destruction in that distinct of a path, and that would be valuable for later.

@Froppy@Art of Fun

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---

The final familiar, carrying a letter similar to the one Sophia had dictated for the Matou's, flew into the open and just outside of the Matou bounded field. Observing the yard and house that lie before it, the EInzbern mistress knew this was the place. Question is, would the Matou look and see there was a familiar with a letter waiting for them just barely beyond their boundaries? Her information from before noted that this particular member of the Three Families had some potential alliances in the works. So hopefully the Matou's got the needed letter in good time if they were observant enough.

@ManyThings@Breo@Phonic

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---

Honestly, he wouldn't blame others if they were trying to keep eyes on him as well, though it was not like he wasn't an observant individual in his own right. Some might want to break rules, and getting tabs on him might facilitate that. Yet he also held what could be considered the "sword of Damocles" over the servants' heads in this conflict as was needed, if case masters and/or their servants were thinking of shattering the rules and fiddling with things not to be messed with. He was a judge and executioner, not something he enjoyed but a role he understood and took on with seriousness. And luckily it seemed things were going as planned for now....for the moment.

Of course he had noted with a light grim-ness earlier when he noted the battle that happened briefly back at the temple as well. He had warned those two magi, and now hopefully they would be responsible. That incident, had it put the war in danger of exposure, might have had to force him to intervene. And what was going on in the Tohsaka Manor and in the yard of the Matou's were among the thing he had noted already into the night, though time was short and not long till the true war erupted on the streets, around the outskirts, and in other places. If he needed to act, he would do so without question.

Yet overall in his duties he was not alone, but was one of two Rulers who would be moderating this conflict and its terrible potential consequences that could arise from it. He at least hoped Fuyuki itself wouldn't be annihilated, but if the push came to shove he would put forth the effort to do what was necessary. Ah. That was the signal he had been promised for kicking off the war, those colorful streaks in the sky almost like a rainbow. Though their location of impact was at least out of civilian territory, though a certain master would likely not be happy with the results. Magi and their territorial nature, no better than lions fighting over dominance in the savannah.

It was time for the Grail War to commence, however, and he stood by, waiting. Observing the events that would unfold tonight.

@Crusader Lord @Froppy@Art of Fun
@Seirei no Hai @Argonaut




Smash.

Smash.

Smash.

Smears of gore upon the ground stuck to the pavement with such strength that it filled cracks caused from the impact the sack created in the ground with a tight enough fit to make it as though there was no damage done, simply a replacement or coloring of the ground.

Cries came from beasts as again and again death came to the harbor.

More and more the rats of the harbor dwindled in number. While the nature of animals left them accepting of death and the ephemeral nature of life, holding not the sapience to truly hold onto feelings and grudges the way mankind did there was nevertheless a growing sense of eeriness that settled in.

Doing the work of a butcher was a smiling youth, simply acting out what was within nature. Cats preyed upon rats, rats died to cats.

...Well, there was also a time where a bird that felt like those other cats he been guided towards, feeling that something was odd and that he should pick them up since they weren’t interested in fish, came by. So he threw the sack at it and killed it.

Broken bodies knitted back together, leaving nothing but scars as he placed his hands within the sack that dripped with gore. Pitter patter, pitter patter. Blood, mucus and fat dripped out and splattered from holes rended into the cloth by bones snapped into sharp shards.

“Ah, the bag ripped again..” he murmured as the sack was also repaired through his ability.

Lancer reached down to pat a few cats, smiling as the warmth of the creature met his hand, along with the softness of their matted fur. Even dried out and dirty like straw, it was a comforting presence to the youth who perhaps knew beasts better than men.

He lowered a fish in and cooed, comforting the cats that were mewling in perhaps no small amount of pain.

...But a fish was nice.

That was when he felt it.

Something was coming, something was coming. Danger was coming.

Lancer dropped the sack and manifested his wooden spear. He could hear nothing, nor see anything but he knew that something was coming. As such..

He felt the need to throw, he felt the need to defend. Lancer threw his spear with the might worthy of a servant, at his full power. The wooden spear flew, sending a gale of wind that scraped at the walls of the various warehouses across its path. Any nearby rats that were watching were torn away from the ground, mixed into a whirlwind following the torn wind from the passage of the spear.

The spear struck a bowl, and a battle of strength beyond human limits began with a loud impact that resonated through the entire harbor, sending shockwaves that even caused a nearby fence to be torn away, and nearby buildings to quake. Then it concluded with a quieter impact as the two objects clattered to the ground.

Lancer followed after and picked up both the bowl and spear.

“Oh, someone must have dropped this.” he murmured to himself.

They must be hungry he reasoned. So why doesn’t he do something nice?

Lancer plucked out the fattest cat of the bunch and placed it in the bowl, then threw it back at where the bowl came back from, aiming right at the Berserker of drink.

By the time the bowl crossed half the distance, the cat was unfortunately a mangled mess. Barely recognizable as such.

However it might make for an enticing meal for a monster.

---

Suzaku panted with exertion and excitement, his limbs shaking with the effort he'd put into the spell. He'd... he'd done it. He'd done it! He'd summoned a Heroic Spirit, a Servant! He glanced down at the back of his right hand, specifically the red markings etched into it. Excellent. He then looked up at the Servant he'd summoned and... was caught significantly off guard. Lightning. Lots and lots of lightning. The man was practically cloaked in it. It was... exhilarating to watch, and slightly frightening. Then, he stepped forward to introduce himself.

"I am servant Archer, a man who has grasped the power of the gods in his hands. If it pleases you, you may call me Nikola Tesla. Now then, there is much work to be done if we are to grasp the Holy Grail."

Suzaku blinked. Archer? Tesla?

"...Who?"

---

Suzaku shook his head in wonderment as he walked about the outskirts of Fuyuki, pondering that which his Servant, Tesla, had told him. To be honest, it was a lot to take in. From what he could understand, Nikola's legend was from the future of this world- one in which he'd grasped the knowledge of lightning, harnessed it, and turned it into a power source for all mankind to use. It was difficult to wrap his head around the implications; an Age of Man to rival the Age of Gods. It was a tough pill to swallow, but also strangely enticing, in its own way. He pondered what kind of wonders might be unearthed in such an Age...

But it wasn't exactly what he should be focusing on right now. Right now, he was still at war, and so he needed protection, defenses. As nice as having a Servant around was, he still needed things to keep his sanctum safe, should the enemy come knocking while he was out on patrol.

My taking of the Leyline won't stay secret for long. I need weapons for that eventuality. Which is what led him out here, where the poor and starving congregated. Not people, no- he wasn't that desperate, and killing someone just to get a bodyguard is exactly the sort of thing he disdained. Still, it wasn't like the thought of his plan of action didn't turn his stomach anyway. He'd prefer a corpse, but, if worst came to worst...

Thankfully, at least this time around, his luck continued to hold. The mutt looked like it had already been on the wrong end of too many fights before whichever one took its life. It looked strong enough, though. It certainly hadn't died from weakness. It would need some reinforcement, though... some strong, flexible metals... What he wouldn't give for support from the clan, but they'd been rather clear- if he was set on this escapade, then he was on his own. Inwardly, he shrugged, heaving the corpse of the dog over his shoulders. He wasn't looking forward to explaining his profession to Archer when he got back; the dog would raise enough questions on its own...

---

As it turned out, Tesla wasn't too perturbed by a dead dog or two. Dead was dead, in his opinion; a man after his own heart. Moreover, Suzaku wasn't the only one who'd been busy that day- Archer had had some projects of his own, fortifying their position in the church. Suzaku almost grinned maniacally from the explanation the Servant had given- whoever tried to ambush their position here was in for more than a few nasty surprises, especially given the modifications he'd suggested to his undead. Things were definitely looking up for this war...

---

---

Suzaku had just been putting the finishing touches on the ritual to raise the dogs he'd found earlier when Archer burst into the mausoleum- politely, of course- to tell him that the signal for the war's start had been sent out. Suzaku nodded, then stepped back, careful to avoid the draugr he'd raised. There were a few of them, at least half a dozen, though they lacked the effort he'd put into the pair of mutts he was about to raise. Armor plating just beneath the skin. Flexible reinforcement around the ribcage (the flexible part was important, given the tricks he'd installed in them), plus a few additions by Tesla, to interface with "Keuranos." He wasn't exactly sure of the specifics, but the modifications would be a massive boost to the Wolves' efficacy.

Suzaku raised his hands toward the circle in front of him, quickly addressing Archer before the ritual began.

"Just a moment. Let me finish reinforcing our ranks, and then... we hunt." In a dark voice, Suzaku began to speak as he gathered his Od, and the ritual began.

---

---

"Ah, Master," said Victor as Vlado entered the room, his address far less vitriolic than it had been. One step at a time. He went back to his feverish workings as the boy prattled on, though he at least seemed to have an interest in the work. Good. That was a point in his favor, at least. Victor finished with the corpse he'd been preparing, snipping the last suture with a pair of shears. "Excellent timing. You are to bear witness to the key to your victory."

He grasped the crystal lantern at his hip, raising it to eye level, so Vlado could see inside.

"My life's work, here in this bottle. Oh, certainly, my New Life is enticing. But it is only possible through this. I spent a lifetime working to harness it. I call it, 'Azoth.'" He held the lantern closer to Vlado, showing its contents- a spark of lightning, twisting and warping in odd, sinuous, impossible ways, like some kind of eel or serpent. It was almost as if--

"Yes. It is alive," smirked Victor. "Or, rather, it IS life. The very same energy that flows through and animates our bodies can be found in lightning. My method takes advantage of this principle, in far greater quantities than is considered 'natural,' to do what was once considered impossible- to reanimate, to confer life once again upon that which is lifeless."

The lantern was starting to glow brighter now, illuminating the unhinged smile on Victor's face. "Watch closely, Master. Behold the future. Behold... our victory!" He whipped around, pointing the lantern like a scepter of authority at the corpse he'd been working on. "Return! Be reborn! Azoth!!" A searingly-bright bolt of blue shot out toward the corpse, writhing and twisting around its limbs, sparks sinking like teeth into its flesh, jerking it awake.

"Yes! YES!! It's ALIVE!! IT'S ALIVE!!" Victor cackled insanely as the corpse's eyes flickered open, its fists clenched, and its body catapulted upward, a roar emanating from what was once dead vocal cords. Victor continued to watch with manic glee as he plied his craft, already eager to begin work on his other children.

Oh, this war was going to be fun...

---

@floodtalon

@ManyThings@Breo

“A dog does not question its lot in life, nor does it wish to “be human”,” was the only response Benita said to Lancer’s statements.

She was, after all, someone designed to take the mantle of a greater man. Perhaps then she could be considered similar to a “heroic spirit” in some ways; false imitation of a greater person, walking as if they were said person. But for a “Heroic Spirit”, they are simply a fragment of their existence given form by the Grail, and for Benita, she was a being created to fill the shoes of a greater man.

Looking away from her Servant for but a second, she revealed her face to him after but a second. Perhaps as a joke or due to spite or some other complex emotion to which Benita was not showing completely at the time, she did take her fingers and force her mouth into a smile, though perhaps this was not particularly what Lancer was requesting at this moment. Perhaps creepy in one way, but at the same time perhaps a bit cute; a rather strange concoction of action, but regardless of this, it seemed that Benita was serious about this, and awaited a response from her Servant

However, that was around the time to which Reika Matou had reached the gate, and as such, she had dropped this smile (false).

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Madam Matou,” Benita said as she bowed her head towards the young girl. It was a simple greeting. After all, Benita was not the sort to believe in such fancy things were of importance. Though it could not be considered disrespectful in the slightest. After all, it was the granddaughter of her “owner” of sorts.

“Although I believe you have been informed of my presence; I am Benita Garibaldi. I am here to present the Grail with the Matou family. I hope that you will not be disappointed with my performance.”

It was not as if Benita thought herself lower than the person before her; there was only one person she looked up to as an inspiration, and while this person might have been the same for the “untainted” brothers and sisters she had, her admiration in Zouken was a driving factor for her presence in this war. And perhaps a reason as to why he had selected her for this project.

“Thank you for the hospitality. I shall take your lead, Madam.”

And with that, she had entered the house. Though it was unlikely that anyone would ever want to willingly enter this house, as an “ally” of sorts for the Matou, she had no reason to fear retaliation. She was just a homunculus. Easily replaceable, but at the same time perfectly obedient.

… A servant to their fate and the master pulling upon their chain.

“To start off, while I promise to obtain the Holy Grail for the Matou, I hope you do not mind me acting with autonomy. While I shall present any findings to yourself, and shall relieve any of the spoils of victory to the Matou household, I’d wish to act autonomously in this war. Of course, that does not mean that I am not against coordination. It is really up to you though. While the master of the house is away, I shall leave those details up to you.”

Benita was a “soldier” that simply wished to accomplish their goal, and she would have to compete against many other Servants and Masters, and as such, needed to be able to complete her duties without the logistical nightmare of going through another before confirming an action. She wished to make her own mind up about the existing issues at hand, and while it would not be exactly independence, still wishing to incorporate the Madam Matou into her ideas, she wished to move as her own.

“That being said, I am confused. I was sure that a Grail War only summoned seven Servants, each of their own class. I had never heard of multiple containers within the same war. At least, that is what the information provided to me seemed to suggest. How can there be two Lancers?”

After negotiations with the magus of the workshop had completed, Archer had naturally begun work on establishing his Noble Phantasm, though not without providing a warning to the magus who had done the majority of speaking for the opposite side during those talks.

“Listen, kid. I’m holding off on doin’ that, like we agreed, but there’s somethin’ you oughtta know.”

An odd glint in his eyes reared its head. It seemed that, at least for this, the Archer was being wholly serious. A legitimately shocking development for anyone who had grasped his character.

“That kid a’ yours, he’s different. What I do is hammerin’ our potential, turnin’ a ‘1’ into a ‘100’, yeah? I jack ‘everything you are’ to the peak. Then there are some who design somethin’ ahead of time, make it so that it’s already born as a ‘100’, like that incubus. That kinda style means ya get more control over the final result, but ya also limit them to bein’ ‘somethin’ you can imagine’.”

The explanation was hardly holistic, but it had its own logic to it. One approach was based on enhancing something, and one was based on building something. ‘Building’ meant that you knew exactly what you were getting, which was both a blessing and a curse.

After all, if Archer has used the same approach of that incubus, of building rather than enhancing, then he’d never have been able to give rise to him, that student who exceeded even the limits on what he imagined a hero could be.

“The problem is that yer kid’s somethin’ outside both’a those methods. He’s a possibility, a walkin’ possibility. He’s not somethin’ that should be able to manifest, ya get me? He’s not a ‘1’, he’s an ‘i’. Normally, at his level of Luck, it’d be easy. Give him some trainin’, bing-bam-bitch he’s on the same level as that bro of his. But he’s not bein’ judged to the same standards as Servants, he’s gonna be judged as a ‘possibility’.”

“What yer askin’ me ta do is to make somethin’ imaginary inta somethin’ real, ta turn the ephemeral permanent. That ain’t easy. Even with the Luck he’s got, it’s not enough ta guarantee anything, because his trainin’ will be the hardest I’ve ever dished out. It’ll be on the same level as what the big guy had to do. And I don’t just mean what I made him do for his trainin’, but everythin’ he did, including those damn redemption errands.”

...in other words, that Servant would face a “hell” equivalent to the years upon years that forged the greatest hero of Greece, compressed into the realm of Archer’s Noble Phantasm. What had that hero undergone? Those struggles, the number of humans who could have endured that without breaking in all of history could likely be counted on one hand.

“If he survives, forget reachin’ his brother. He’s got good odds of reachin’ the same level as my number two student in his prime right off the bat. If the stars align and everythin’ goes perfectly, there’s the chance he even hits the level of the big guy. But, it’s basically gonna be a coin toss between if he lives or dies.”

A coin toss. Either become a hero who can stand at the peak of this war, or die with nothing accomplished.

“So, let him be a kid for a while. Have fun, meet people, check out the world. Then, if an’ when he’s ready for that coin toss, I’ll do it, but I ain’t lettin’ that decision get made hastily.”

There was a conviction in that last statement, and for just a moment, behind that fat, short, balding man, it was possible to see the immaterial flicker of something else. Of someone else.

...With those parting words, he had taken his leave.

And so, the Archer took to work on his Noble Phantasm, giving Gin permission to do whatever he felt like doing over the process. The only guidance given for the time being had been “Get drunk as soon as ya can once it’s done and we get ya inside, kid. You’d handle it better than nearly any human, but this place’s rules are a baaad idea ta fuck with.”

The process of establishing an alien world was odd, to say the least. On face, it seemed similar to a Caster establishing their territory, but there was something else present, something deeper to the feeling that the area provoked in the human mind as it took shape.

Or perhaps that was caused by Archer downing more alcohol every ten seconds or so as he worked, or stopping halfway through to make what looked to be flyers advertising the bar. His blood was roughly half alcohol by volume by now.

Well, he was nothing if not productive.

In the blaring wind and radiant light, a singular figure appeared. Distinguishing features were hidden by a rustic and almost tribal black cloak. What little skin could be seen was the lower part of her face, which seemed to hold a neutral expression. What little skin could be seen was pale and seemed rather unnatural, though not in the same sense as the walking corpses milling about. The 'thing' in front of Voronin was not human. They were never 'human' in the first place. All Servants were inhuman creatures, but this went beyond even that.

"It's shoddy. But, it'll do for now."

It wasn't directed at anyone. She wasn't speaking to her 'master'. Not yet.

Caster could only think-

What a splendid Magus.
What a splendid attempt.
What a splendid demonstration.

. . .What a farce. A total, complete lie. But, at the very least, it was one she had decided to tell herself.

There were multiple saving graces that prevented her from simply lashing out at the master in the first place. Of all the classes, Caster was the most suited for such a ploy upon the second of their summoning. But in this case, because of a few minor factors, it wasn't necessary. No, attacking your master on sight was moronic in the first place. Anyone who did that without attempting to understand each other was probably an idiot. Regardless of the circumstances-

This girl would definitely be suitable. Caster was more than patient enough to mold them into a proper magic-user by her standards.

. . . As long as they didn't prove unsightly.

Or something like that.

Taking a moment to examine her surroundings, Caster then finally acknowledged her master.

"I forgive you. This is a blameless crime, not a knowing sacrilege against the arts. Afterall, you Magi didn't decide the world was going to end up like this. I cannot fault you for existing in a faulty system." Caste giggled for a single moment. It was both hauntingly pure and full of genuine hatred.

But that hatred was certainly not directed at the girl in front of her.

Skuld could probably 'reach an understanding' with someone who had an agreeable goal and personality. Most likely. Caster could only assume that was probable, considering she didn't see a recognizable catalyst in sight. Beyond the graveyard and its current inhabitants, she had to suppose.

To Caster, who hated the composition change of the atmosphere and textures, humans were despicable. Thankfully(?), her bloods thickness had been reduced within this particular container. At the very least, the 'thing' presently called 'master' in front of her wasn't fully human. By technical standards, they were a sort of mutant. A 'magus' of the modern era who was reliant on the weak and pathetic 'magic circuits' which were nothing but convenient tools in the Era of Gods. Incantations. Self Hypnosis. It was all rather drole and fairly pathetic to Caster. This was the inevitable result of the road humanity had chosen to take with its human law nonsense. Modern 'Magi' probably couldn't even do contract level magecraft properly anymore.

Pathetic.

"Yes. I'm satisfied with the potential you've presented. I won't ignore such cute efforts. 'Master', I am 'Servant' Caster."

If the girl in front of her had been an 'omnipotent one' of the modern era, she would've lacked interest. But she was a specialist who had over invested in a field of mild interest to Skuld. Someone like that was more moldable than a genius- more capable of reaching the teachings she'd enjoy imparting. Within her cloak, she activated some sort of high class magic with Runes.

The mostly featureless figure tilted its head slightly to the right while watching the mutant standing before her. A smile formed on their face, though it showed no cruelty. After all, she already knew how the girl in front of her would respond.

"However, why don't we drop that little pretense? I would prefer our relationship to be of a 'Master' and 'Apprentice'." Then, moments after leaving it hang in the air-

She frowned. Was it an expression showing agitation? Or perhaps, it was an expression showing disappointment?

"But if you really wanted, you could use a command seal to enforce a normal 'relationship' between us. It's really up to you, isn't it 'master'?"

Caster lent an outstretched hand toward the girl and waited on her response.

---

"Caster. If the situation changes, we'll follow suit. For now, focus on defense."

Annoying woman.

Is what they would probably say about HER, if they had the time and care for complaints. Currently, they did not. All they could think about were the correct numerical formula/equations and going about information processing. Sharing perceptions with 'familiars' deployed across the city. Processing input data. Receiving information from Caster about leyline/magical energy composition and output. Currently, they were in overdrive. It was only natural.

Because, without a doubt, the Holy Grail was not working properly. As a result, the Academy had to be called. A status update that confirmed more than a few fears.

The reaction was not pleasant. Not pleasant at all.

Peregrinus shifted in his perch on one of the older trees. They had taken up a snipers position with several bags hanging next to them off a convenient branch. He could both watch the frontal approach to their territory while also acting as a living terminal for the information flowing in Fuyuki. However, simply watching the few houses and road below was nothing to them. Only a marginal amount of their processing powers were actually focused on this particular body.

This backwater ritual that had little to no relevance had gained the attention and eyes of Atlas. It was unfathomable. It was inconceivable. For they, whose sole objective was to 'Save the World' to see this event as one of any particular importance. But, on the ground, they could tell 'something was definitely wrong'. Based on previous data given by Atlas, the city was being flooded with Magi. What Caster had informed them of, what their familiars saw- confirmed this seemingly wayward data.

Certainly, there were many unknown factors still present. Though the higher ranked Magi were known to him, those of lower status were not. That alone meant a cautious approach to this was correct. Though they had no interest in the holy grail war, survival and information gathering was currently paramount.

Of the current masters known to him, there were only two that he couldn't defeat with just a single bullet. Modern armament and weapons exceeded magecraft, after all. But, if one counted 'those who created things to fight for them', then that number more than doubled. Against those particular opponents, they could have the most trouble.

But they had their data. That was, doubtlessly, more than enough.

Oh. One last thing. The most important thing possible. The ultimate clarification.

". . .And don't go around searching for 'children'. We don't have the luxury for that."