The first day of the Holy Grail War had begun, the sun rising in the sky to cast its light over the impending tragedy. Perhaps some Masters had summoned their Servants mere moments ago, and some were in the process of doing so now, but there was no doubt that the war had finally begun. For those who don't know any better, it is a typical fall day in Fuyuki. 

The teacher didn't know of the tragedy that would befall the city in the coming days. There are things she does know, of course. "I wish grandfather wasn't too busy with his meeting to make me breakfast" was the one dominating most of them, but currently, there was one thought overwhelming even that.

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late...!"

Sprinting with all the reckless abandon she could muster, the woman skidded into her classroom, where her students were chattering away.

"All right, I made it! Good morning, everyo-"

Wham! The jet coaster of a woman fell over with a terrible sound. 

"..." 

The classroom was filled with silence, in contrast to the clamor from a second ago. Students glanced around at each other, before slipping back into their normal morning routine.

"…Hey. Front row. Wake her up." 

"…What? I don't want to. I'm scared she'll bite me if I go near her…" 

"…She's not a Mimic or anything. She won't go that far." 

"Hey, if you're saying that, why don't you do it?" 

"Uh, I'll pass. I'm not used to this." 

"Me neither! And why would you make a girl do it? A guy should do it!"

In the light of early morning, at the start of dawn when dew gathers as water, the sun arises to provide heat and nourishment, the symbolic renewal and arrival of spring-in-miniature, a pale-skinned, raven-haired figure saunters. With measured, saucy steps he walks into the forested hills beyond Fuyuki, at their forefront is a one amongst their number, now barren save for the Church that rests upon it's zenith.

Before him is a clearing, bathed in the warm and orange light of the sun, his skin prickling with the chill that comes with those first rays of dawn.

A flash of searing brilliance is reflected on a silver knife, its owner having whipped it out from places unknown, and with a bizarre gentleness pierces the virgin earth. With practiced ease, he drags his weapon through, leaving what was once clean and unspoiled now forever changed, a clean and pure field now forever marred.

A rich, loamy scent joins the other sensations at the height of the moment, and the summoning circle is prepared, faced to the open air. Perfect for the man's purposes.

His fingers, long and elegant, caress a well defined chin, and crimson eyes twinkle playfully as their owner considers his options.

"Hmm, oh yeah, this will work." With an effort of will, his Magic Circuits open, beginning to take in the energy of his life and catalyzing it with the Fifth Element that hung in the air, catalyzing as it interacted with the Foundation that laid hidden somewhere within the Spiritual Land of Fuyuki. The torn earth of the circle turned silver in the light of Mystic energies, and with the time now right the man began the ritual.



With a sound of a great storm blowing, silver mist erupts from the earth as immense magical energy is actualized from the far-distant Holy Grail, reaching out through time and space, to grasp for the Hero who would answer the summons of one man:



@Lucker13

"Now this is unexpected." A man stands above the ritual circle, dressed in a sharp gray uniform with small outlines of red running down it. Young looking with bright blue eyes and cut short blond hair he possesses a certain control of himself, checking over his cross like medal near his neck and fixing the cap on his head. Now he eyes the rather well dressed man across from him, a smirk playing at his lips. He finally looks up at a clear blue sky and smiles. With a slight accent he speaks.

"Truly a shame how the war ended up and what came of it. Here I am summoned to another smaller yet as important war to deal with all kinds of other Heroes. I won't ask why you had someone like me as your pick, not now anyways."

He looks back down to this Master of his and gives a cheeky smirk.

"And I won't bother with the obvious as well in who you are. A War is upon us and those slow to act will surely regret it, I just have couple questions before we begin."

He stands straight and gives a proper salute before asking,

"I ask of you Master what is your Name and how may I Manfred von Richthofen be of service in this War."

Servant Gunner

"Now this is unexpected." A man stands above the ritual circle, dressed in a sharp gray uniform with small outlines of red running down it. Young looking with bright blue eyes and cut short blond hair he possesses a certain control of himself, checking over his cross like medal near his neck and fixing the cap on his head. Now he eyes the rather well dressed man across from him, a smirk playing at his lips. He finally looks up at a clear blue sky and smiles. With a slight accent he speaks.

"Truly a shame how the war ended up and what came of it. Here I am summoned to another smaller yet as important war to deal with all kinds of other Heroes. I won't ask why you had someone like me as your pick, not now anyways."

He looks back down to this Master of his and gives a cheeky smirk.

"And I won't bother with the obvious as well in who you are. A War is upon us and those slow to act will surely regret it, I just have couple questions before we begin."

He stands straight and gives a proper salute before asking,

"I ask of you Master what is your Name and how may I Manfred von Richthofen be of service in this War."

Servant Gunner

Thin, pale lips stretch into a smirk, and a crisply pressed sleeve is raised in a salute to the famous Hero before him, "Do I need a reason to seek out the most legendary Hero of the Great War? Unequaled in scope save for the most legendary battles between gods of long forgotten myth?" A dark eyebrow raises up, "Don't sell yourself short, Baron-man, you're the greatest dogfighter to have ever lived, after all. Didn't you know it yourself? The man who controls the air, controls the war."

As the two converse, the magus strides towards the summoning circle, small bits of matter dropped into the still magic-rich soil, enriched and empowered by the castoff of the High Ritual which had just occurred there. Finally, the Master stands before his Servant, nearly equal to him in height.

"My name is Mehdi Al-Beliya'al," His hand stretches out to be shook, "Let's get along, 'kay?" The magus winks, his smile turning predatory.

@Lucker13

“Not even a single misstep, no matter how minor, will be forgiven. Passable is not enough. Good is not enough. Superb is not enough. You must achieve absolute perfection. Anything less is only failure. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father.”

“Then see to it that you apply it. What you hold in your hands is our life and our death, it is our past and our future, and it is your weight to carry until you entrust it to your child.”

“Yes, father.”

“Vary well. THEN MAKE ME ANOTHER GODDAMN CUP! THIS LAST ONE TASTED LIKE LIQUID SHIT MIXED WITH PETROLEUM YOU GODDAMN WASTE OF AIR!”

The child took the pot and the kettle and hurried out of the room, narrowly avoiding the boot thrown at him.



The brown-haired young man sighed as he stared at the swirling dark liquid within his cup in the privacy of his yet-to-open shop, taking a sip and setting it down before dragging a hand over his face for the upteenth time in a single hour and looking for all the world like he wanted someone to end his suffering.

Or wake up and find it all a bad dream. Sadly, he had already tried pinching, and cursed enough to make the neighbors worry when that did not pan out. His sullen gaze slipped, turning into a glare when the red markings on his right hand came into view.

Of all things, it had to happen here and now. He had thought he would have had a bigger margin but noooo, of course he had to get caught up in all this nonsense.

He sipped his coffee, this time a bit more angrily than before.

‘Oh, open a shop in Fuyuki, come for the inauguration and to train the employees for the first month or two, then you can go back to your cozy house’, they said. ‘What can go wrong?’, they said. ‘Think of it as a vacation trip from managing the main branch’, they said.

(Actually, he had been the one to say all that, rather convinced that he was the only one able to turn incompetent monkeys into acceptable baristas, but do not let that detract from his rant)

Now here he was — looking at a prospective week behind schedule and a couple of employees dismissed for it and told to take a nice holiday outside of the city at his expense for the inconveniences.

(Sent to a rather convenient seminar for the sake of efficiency, to at least get something positive out of this disastrous stay in a filthy tea-ridden country)

Oh. And the possibility of death.

He looked around, almost longingly, at the spotless establishment, the laid-out menus, the perfectly cut cakes put on display.

He sipped his coffee again. Angrily.

It was getting cold.

Japan sucked.

And it was with that startling realization that he decided to quit it with the passive-aggressive sad sack act and just be aggressive, marching down the store away from prying eyes, into the back of the shop where his office was and closing the door behind him.

Taking some chalk, pushing the desk to one side of the room and carefully rolling up and putting the rug out of the way, he got to drawing.

And, not for the first time, he cursed his luck.

A while later, done and looking over his handiwork, he lifted the hand with the markings toward the circle now present in the middle of his office, nodding to himself a few times before starting the incantation.

This was not a task he could confront alone, but thankfully this nonsense War also gave nonsense means to the “Masters”.

…

“——Come forth! O’ Attendant of the Table!”

Like that, right? Well, probably not, but so long as it got results...

Light coalesced into his room along the artificial breeze, and Rahma covered his eyes and waited.

@Senseless

Mehdi Al-Beliya'al

<Snipped quote by Lucker13>

Thin, pale lips stretch into a smirk, and a crisply pressed sleeve is raised in a salute to the famous Hero before him, "Do I need a reason to seek out the most legendary Hero of the Great War? Unequaled in scope save for the most legendary battles between gods of long forgotten myth?" A dark eyebrow raises up, "Don't sell yourself short, Baron-man, you're the greatest dogfighter to have ever lived, after all. Didn't you know it yourself? The man who controls the air, controls the war."

As the two converse, the magus strides towards the summoning circle, small bits of matter dropped into the still magic-rich soil, enriched and empowered by the castoff of the High Ritual which had just occurred there. Finally, the Master stands before his Servant, nearly equal to him in height.

"My name is Mehdi Al-Beliya'al," His hand stretches out to be shook, "Let's get along, 'kay?" The magus winks, his smile turning predatory.

@Lucker13

Clasping the offered arm and giving it a few good pumps, Servant Gunner chuckles. "It's hard to argue when put like that. Best for you to lead on then, I'm rather distinct when I travel, especially during the day and I figured we need time to set up a plan of attack and who are priority targets and so on without giving the game away yet."

He looks back at the sky and gives a what can you do type of shrug. He then looks back at his Master Mehdi and gives a grim grin, eyes glowing beneath the shade of his cap.

"Once preparations are over I'll be glad to show these old bedtime story Heroes on how War is to be done."

Servant Gunner

@TehChron

As soon as the arrow was released, Arash felt pure, blinding pain. The pain was all-encompassing, tearing away at his being and his will for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only an instant. When the pain finally, mercifully ended, Arash was no more, his body scattered across the last battlefield he would ever grace. And yet, if anyone were able to find the distant location where his head had landed, they would find nothing less than a satisfied smile on his face.




When Arash opened his eyes yet again (a feat he never believed he'd be able to do again), he was initially confused. The last thing he could remember was taking that fateful shot, and a sudden case of instantaneous death. A fraction of a second later, the rest of his mind caught up, and he understood why he was here. A Holy Grail War, with the Heroes of old brought forth from their graves to battle once again.

Frankly, Arash was a little upset at the situation.

Arash understood that a Servant participating in the War was able to gain a wish should they win, but he had no desire for such a thing. Arash was no great King, he was no legendary warrior (at least, he didn't feel like one), he was just a simple soldier. And yet, the Grail saw fit to call him out. Still, there was no use crying over things he couldn't change.

Arash stood up from his kneeling position to look upon his summoner, his Master for the length of this Holy Grail War. They were a young man of Middle Eastern descent, and had a sort of distinct scent that Arash couldn't quite place (coffee, he would later learn). Arash could sense a deep sense of frustration emitting from his Master, but no great malice could be found. Arash stared down at his Master, and pressed his closed fist against his own breastplate in a salute.

"I am Servant Archer, Knight of the Bow. I ask of you, are you my Master?"

Talia Heigen-Schwertz

---

It hurt.

Every single motion she made hurt.

Pain raced across her body, tears welled up in her eyes.

Why? Why did it have to hurt so much, to carry the pain, the expectations, the wish that they all cried out for, every regret she could hear. Looking into her father's eyes granted no answer.

There was no mercy to be found in this place. But hidden behind that cold mask of a magus, thin pinpricks of pity could be seen.

Nothing of value cannot be gained without equal exchange. Pay for our dream with pain and effort, and soon, one day.

We too, might become like stars.

---

"Oho? You look absolutely dashing in that outfit Rider."

Looking up from an uninteresting magazine, Talia Heigen-Schwertz scanned the entirety of Rider's body, as if there would be some flaw her servant could have made. An utterly foolish notion, but one could never cautious, not even in mundane tasks such as shopping.

If there were any objections to Rider's choice in garments, nothing about her so much as gave a hint as to any. Like a polished pillar of marble, her regal and refined demeanor deflected any probing gaze. It was, however, unfortunate that to many, it only served to make her seem as though she were a particularly precocious child.

The appearance of youth was something to be proud of, yet, it carried with it it's own problems. Something that served as a sore sticking point for Talia. Regardless, propriety was something to be upheld. And Talia was nothing if not a proper lady.

"Very well, let us depart now Rider. Our business here is concluded, and we have much more to do before the sun falls."

Hopping off the bench situated near the dressing room, she gave nary a glimpse behind her, fully expecting her servant to follow after her.

"It is good to see that you know how to dress yourself up. It would have been disappointing to see such a renown conqueror fail to triumph in the battlefield known as 'fashion'."

@Aoko Aozaki

"Is this it? Your ad for the spare room made it look... Bigger."
"It's an entire floor, how much bigger can it get?"
Ariadne was... Not displeased by the chosen abode, since after all it was probably the most popular pub and/or liquor shop in the entire town. She was almost ready to call it the ONLY pub/liquor shop, but there might be another she wasn't aware of somewhere. Then again, she was a more 'living in the moment' kind of person. So she hadn't done excessive amounts of research.
"Well, this is fine anyway." She said, turning to Otoko Hotaruzuka and applying a small bow in his direction. "It is only a temporary arrangement after all, I do not plan to be in town for more than a week or two. Maybe a third to wrap up affairs if required."
"Right, well you already paid for the time, so I guess whatever weird stuff you're up too... Not my business. Just don't trash the place." Hotaruzuka said, and let out the longest sigh possible. The two of them were probably polar opposites as people. While Ariadne considered herself a dedicated, and easy-going person, she could tell that Hotaruzuka was somebody who saw hard work first. She didn't judge. What she was about to do was very much hard work.

Either way, as soon as the door was closed, she set herself to work. She had a lot of setup, and a lot of stuff to take care of in advance. She had to set up her bounded field. Tightening a ribbon around her hair to help apply some focus to her life, she set to work. She would be foolish to summon before she had her bounded field set up. It wasn't hard work, but as the clock hit 8AM, she was only just putting on the important final touches.
"There we go, that should be enough." She huffed, and clapped her hands together. She wanted to be sure she didn't draw any unwanted attention, especially considering the place she had chosen to set up as a shop was right in public view. Though, it was for the best. Bacchic karma adored a place of party and savage humanity. This bounded field would act to draw in all that good will, and amplify her magecraft through it.

"Alright, now for my servant."
While Ariadne had worked on her bounded field, she had also been keeping her summoning circle in mind. Objects had been moved to clear the center of the room, and it being rather barren made that easy to begin with. The latent energy of this place was more than enough. She didn't need a rich leyline to achieve what she needed. She needed a place suited to her system of worship. This place, as a pub, fulfilled that. No matter what part of the world, Bacchus reigned supreme in parties.
Pulling from her bag, she let her catalyst lay on the ground. Three seeds, from a golden apple. Not the ones of chaos, but ones from the golden apples offered to Atalanta. She would have preferred one of the other catalysts her family possessed... But They wouldn't let her take the helmet of Theseus, or the gauntlet of Heracles... She'd just have to make due with the apple seeds. That was fine.

"Let silver and steel be the essence-
She began the chant. Her hand reached out towards the symbols she had drawn. The summoning circle was set in place, and magic flowed through her. Her circuits ignited, and she began to channel.
"An oath shall be sworn here.
I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven;
I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell."

Wind swept up, and the air crackled with lightning. To any onlooker they might notice the odd flash from behind the curtains of the upper floor. But it hardly mattered. The ritual had begun. The ritual was nearing its end.
"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power,
come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!"

SUMMON THE HERO OF GREECE! SUMMON A HERO WITH NO EQUAL!

Summmon... Hippomenes...

@Remon

<Snipped quote by TehChron>

Clasping the offered arm and giving it a few good pumps, Servant Gunner chuckles. "It's hard to argue when put like that. Best for you to lead on then, I'm rather distinct when I travel, especially during the day and I figured we need time to set up a plan of attack and who are priority targets and so on without giving the game away yet."

He looks back at the sky and gives a what can you do type of shrug. He then looks back at his Master Mehdi and gives a grim grin, eyes glowing beneath the shade of his cap.

"Once preparations are over I'll be glad to show these old bedtime story Heroes on how War is to be done."

Servant Gunner

@TehChron

"No time like the present," The youthful magus replies, "We just need to take the time to line everything up, and I have the perfect place in mind to get ready for the action later on." Red pupils dart back and forth, then he steps into the center of the array, where some semblance of the silver mist still clings in spite of the morning air.

Mehdi reaches into the pocket of his uniform, withdrawing an inappropriately sized pot, a gnarled sapling grasping hungrily into the air. Mehdi coos affectionately at it, and the sapling appears to twitch towards the sound of his voice. The magus smirks, and he places the pot into the center of the circle, the object sinking effortlessly into the soft, rich earth. The remaining silver mist is now gone.

"One last thing," he says to his Servant, and with a few whispered words, the grass of the field grows outwards, drinking slightly from his Circuits, and hiding the wounds etched into the earth, and what he had hidden with it. To anyone's senses, this clearing appeared to be just another clearing in the forest. One of countless hundreds.

His job done, Mehdi patted his hands on his pants, "Let's go."

With those words, the two departed back into the city. Mehdi had his eyes on an ideal base of operations:

A trendy fruit bar in the Shinto business district, conveniently named "Fruits of Ecstasy"

"First things first, Gunner, it's time we got ourselves a job."

@Lucker13

The magus was silent for a bit, looking over the summoned Servant with a critical eye.

Though it was less judging, more as though he were measuring...something. This was only reinforced when he started moving around the bowman.

He nodded to himself once he had done a complete revolution, letting his arms fall to the side, and relaxing his expression a bit.

“That would be correct, yes. This nonsense Ritual pulled me in without warning, and I do not expect those without the likes of you Heroic Spirits at their side to live very long. The city is sure to become chaotic in the following days, so I needed one, as well.”

He paused.

“My mana and an anchor to the modern world in exchange for your aid — do you think it a fair trade, Archer?”

He was at least being genuine with regards to offering a hand in partnership, recognizing that they both needed each other.

“Hm, if you are going to stay around here…” He looked at him again. “...Well, your looks aren’t half bad so young girls are sure to come, and I could use help around the store. Finding a fitting uniform might be a bit harder considering those tree trunks you have for arms, but I’m sure we can make it work.”

He started walking briskly out of the room, motioning for Archer to follow him.

“Come, come, we can discuss the specifics over a warm cup of coffee or two, God knows I could use it.”

@Senseless

<Snipped quote by Lucker13>

Mehdi Al-Belia'al

"No time like the present," The youthful magus replies, "We just need to take the time to line everything up, and I have the perfect place in mind to get ready for the action later on." Red pupils dart back and forth, then he steps into the center of the array, where some semblance of the silver mist still clings in spite of the morning air.

Mehdi reaches into the pocket of his uniform, withdrawing an inappropriately sized pot, a gnarled sapling grasping hungrily into the air. Mehdi coos affectionately at it, and the sapling appears to twitch towards the sound of his voice. The magus smirks, and he places the pot into the center of the circle, the object sinking effortlessly into the soft, rich earth. The remaining silver mist is now gone.

"One last thing," he says to his Servant, and with a few whispered words, the grass of the field grows outwards, drinking slightly from his Circuits, and hiding the wounds etched into the earth, and what he had hidden with it. To anyone's senses, this clearing appeared to be just another clearing in the forest. One of countless hundreds.

His job done, Mehdi patted his hands on his pants, "Let's go."

With those words, the two departed back into the city. Mehdi had his eyes on an ideal base of operations:

A trendy fruit bar in the Shinto business district, conveniently named "Fruits of Ecstasy"

"First things first, Gunner, it's time we got ourselves a job."

@Lucker13

SHINTO DISTRICT, FRUITS OF ECSTASY

Times really had changed. Manfred couldn't help notice how much bigger everything was compared to his time and how much bright color was available. Being told information directly into your head was one thing, seeing it firsthand was another entirely. They had stopped shortly at the edge of the City to get him some less eye catching clothes at the edge of the Shinto District, Manfred got himself some easy sneakers, blue jeans and a comfortable red T-shirt. He couldn't resist. He also took the time asking his Master basic questions before they got into the City of what he could do, which turned out to be quite a lot with something as simple as a green thumb.

After the short stop they came to the a store named Fruits of Ecstasy of all things. Only a short time with his Master and he already knew it fit him to a T. It was near a place of intense foot traffic somewhat near the bridge. Turning to his Master who looked eager to explain further, Manfred began as such,

"From what I can see on the menu this is a place that makes, uh, shakes?" Gunner gives a brief squint at all the fruity options available.

"Not the kind of place I imagined to be during a good portion of this War, but with your particular skills I can see why. Are we to work here then?"
@TehChron

Quiet Basement, Western Farms

“Hmm. With that, I think it should be done.” Dusting the chalk off from his hands, a one-eyed young man stood up and looked over the fruits of his work. A perfectly drawn circle, with numerous lines intercrossing in formations he didn’t properly understand but were copied exactly as the image he’d been provided by one of his most recent debtors, who had told him about this event as a way to pay off all of his debts at once.

Truthfully, he was hoping beyond belief that this time, this was real, and that his problems could finally be resolved, and that he could finally, finally, be gainfully employed!

“Um, fill fill fill fill fill fill fill?” In an attempt to read the smudged instructions written in completely illegible handwriting, Tom scratches his head in confusion. Shrugging his shoulders, he tosses away the instructions and picks up his catalyst. A faded and scratched cover for a videotape placed carefully within the center of the circle, as Tom Fruz began his ritual.

Slamming his head down onto the floor, transitioning into a dogeza pose within 0.3 seconds, he begins to chant fervently, “Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

The chant continues, for several minutes, with Tom looking nowhere close to out of breath, but crescendoing higher and higher in volume and pitch. His voice does not give out, but the constant bowing and scraping, impacting his head against the floor, means that he is almost at the end of the ritual.

“-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASESUMMONHERCULES!”

The circle glows, and the (respectful?) call is answered.

@Over Illusion

A prayer. A plead. A hope. That hope reached out. From the land through a conceptual universe born by a timeless wish. From that universe to a place outside of the world, to the Astral Plane, to a storied library of those men made gods through the prayers of man. Prayers of the very same kind that the one-eyed boy now utters, a 'tool of hope' born by will and wishes.

Within that library, the prayer touched "something", and-

"...ah, very well. This prayer of yours, I will grant it."

-A piece of a star fell to earth.

The world pulsed, an aria calling something that should not exist into being. A fake forged by the Holy Grail's right, bound to the world through chain and contract. 

And, before the magus who had obtained a bootleg Italian VHS, something formed. Light coalesced, swirling about madly and stretching out its tendrils as if to applaud the absurd dance it was made to participate in. In the center of this light, a body was fashioned from Ether.

A weight settled on the surroundings. A pressure that exceeded mere magical presence. Rather, it was something more mundane and yet more unique. Appealing more to the mind than to the world, that body alone seemed to oppress the environment even as it took shape. 

Head, arms, legs, torso- come into being. 

It was a figure equally majestic and offensive, horrific and awe-inspiring to the senses.

Something scratched in the back of his mind as he took material form, telling him to utter those words: "Are you my Master?". 

Those words were crushed under the weight of his will. Instead, he strode forwards, lifting the likely-concussed boy from the ground and hefting him up to eye level with himself. Those eyes glinted with a blue steel edge, even as a smirk curled along the edge of his lips.

"...I see."

And then, the boy was released, haphazardly thrown to the other side of the basement. It was fine, it probably wouldn't injure him, probably.

The man struck a pose. His whole body seemed to lean to one side. His left arm was extended outward. His right hand was flayed and covering most of his face. A laugh echoed throughout the basement.

"Ahaha! You are in luck, boy!"

His pose shifted. He had straightened up, and both arms were now behind his head. His stance resembled a yoga stretch, but more hot-blooded and fabulous.

"For you have already found victory!"

Another pose change.

"As you have summoned-"

Another.

"The one and only-"

A new pose. Hands raised to the sky, body angled to accept and praise the rays of the sun, despite the fact that he was in a basement.

"Hercules!"

Aaaaand pose for applause.

---

"Here you go, Mr. Tree!"

Jack was having a pretty swell day, all things considered. The plants that had told him about this ritual that was overflowing with a Mr. Tree that exceeded the modern age apparently weren't lying, which was nice. Sometimes the plants lied, but usually they were pretty honest about these things. Most of them didn't know how to lie. The pitcher plants were usually the biggest liars. Buncha pricks.

Anyway, that was beside the point. The point was that there were no lies this time. Just like he'd heard, all he had to do was get his hands on a nice-looking building, set up a quick line to avoid detection, make a circle, and hope really, really hard that the magic cup would give him Mr. Tree, and it had!

...now that he thought about it, that was a little weird. Why was a cup so interested in Mr. Tree? How did a cup think? Plants could think, but Jack hadn't heard of anyone talking to cups back when he was in the place with the soft walls, so he didn't think they could. Did someone make a thinking cup? That was pretty weird of them. They must have some weird, cup-based motives. 

Well, Mr. Tree was getting watered now, so that was all fine. Apparently other people had their own walking talking Mr. Trees, and the magic cup wanted them to beat up the other ones. A little weird, but given that they were working with a thinking cup, Jack wasn't really expecting normalcy. But it would be such a shame to start beating up people right now. It was a nice day out, and Mr. Tree had just started existing, so he probably wanted some time to relax and talk. Jack was also feeling a little tuckered out from how hard he was praying earlier, so the math did seem to check out.

"Oh, right, Mr. Tree, let me introduce you. This is Harry, and this is Johnny, and this is..."

Gesturing at the various bean plants that had been placed around the room, the idiot savant began introducing the plant-man to his various plants. 

Their partnership was off to a great start.

Having a bedroom connected directly to a bathroom was certainly nice. The amenities of nobility were great. Still. . .

"Hmph. . .What a farce." The young lord of Castle Einzbern tapped her foot as the toilet flushed behind her. Her remark wasn't referring to beloved Rider, of course. It was this fake Grail War itself.

Those fools, thinking any wish would be granted. Thinking there was any salvation in this murder parade. Utter nonsense. This murder parade would only have one conductor, and that'd be her.

In all this chaos, E.E. wanted to find a paragon of humanity, a man who truly embodied the human species.

And then she wanted to savor his degradation and destruction over the course of the war.

But she would dismiss all those thoughts except when they were absolutely relevant, for there were opponents who could possibly glean even her mind. She had no doubt the Magi present couldn't, but if a Caster attempted it. . . perhaps the result could be different. Servants were oddities, after all. She smiled, however briefly.

Yes, her Rider was among them.

After the momentary indulgence of happiness, her smile faded. The young Einzbern took a moment to examine her own features in the mirror, then began to brush her teeth. She signaled at a maid standing at attention nearby, non verbally giving instructions to begin preparing an expedition into Fuyuki City. It would truthfully be quite a harrowing day, though thankfully her cute maids would be handling most of the busy work.

She spat, then gurgled down some listerine- at the same time, Emma's flip phone began blaring back in her room. The noble waltz'd back into her room in a much better mood, picking up the phone herself. She took a moment to survey the maids busily moving about the room. All demi-humans, all homunculi, all adorable. Their albino features were the norm here, and she enjoyed the presence of those who shared her own origin. However, she ignored them for the moment. The phone call was important. It was the 'signal'.

"Am I ready?" The Homunculus responded to a certain someone who had deemed it necessary to call her. It was a notification that the Holy Grail War had firmly begun. Such were the privileges of the Einzbern.

"Anytime!" She then looked around the room full of her collected paraphernalia with a slight smirk.

"Gotcha." E.E. nodded her head in affirmation to some final word from the mysterious caller.

Emma closed the phone almost immediately after the conversation ended, a goodbye utterly unnecessary. That had already been handled. She turned and began to dress in combat gear. When she was done, the homunculus grabbed the guns below her bed and flashily equipped them.

While many would hide in their workshops, E.E. had absolutely no interest in that. In fact, it would just guarantee that Rider lost. They had to be aggressive and constantly on the move. That meant they had to set out immediately to crush their enemies.

However-

Just before that. She would do 'the most important thing to begin the day'.

Emma walked over to one of the posters on the wall, this one being her favorite(depicting some young girls in magical girl regalia). Without a second thought she cuddled up against it, almost as if hugging it. The Maids, normally stoic, gave her extremely worried looks.

"Moe~"

With that, her day truly started.

Basement, Western Farms
@Over Illusion

"Are you my Master?"

A barely conscious Tom nods his head in response to the question, as the Servant pulls him up- or perhaps that was simply his neck flopping about. Whichever the case, the subsequent rough handling jolts him back into consciousness, his body’s emergency instincts kicking in as he impacts against the wall, landing painfully on the cold floor, slowly trying to stem the bleeding as he tries to let his mind put itself back together.

But he is given no such reprieve.

The imposing, the royal, the heroic figure of the one he had summoned cuts through his shifting trains of thought and sears itself into his mind.

There is no more doubt in his mind. There is no other possibility who this could be.

The words his Servant are to say-

"Hercules!"

“-Hercules.”

A single tear falls from his working eye as he witnesses the final pose. His hands come together in raucous applause.

And then, confident in victory, and the relief that he may finally lose his debts, Tom falls to sleep.

“C’mon Caster, we’ve got an entire city to see!”

The empty bookstore was still closed at this early hour, meaning Amara had all the time in the world to summon her Servant. Breaking into the bookstore was fairly simple with basic magecraft. It was also simple to secure a suitable area within the bookstore to create circle. The problem came when she actually had to draw the circle.

She spent a good amount of time drawing up her circle. While others might have used chalk or chicken blood, Amara used metal shavings, with each metal used correlating to one of the celestial bodies. The girl also made sure that the circle was as mathematically possible as she could get. Finally, she took books relating to reach celestial body and had them around the circle.

Oddly enough, these books were backwards, and had images of girls in weird outfits instead of the planets. Also something about sailors? The Japanese were truly a mysterious and strange people.

The books probably didn’t help at all, but it made her feel more comfortable.

Within the circle was the girl’s catalyst, an incredibly torn apart scroll. It was a scroll kept within her family’s vault because of its age and mystery, but it was also rumored to have been kept within the library of Alexandria, making it a prime catalyst for all kinds of great heroes.

Like Ptolemy!

Or Ceasar!

Or like...Ptolemy!

In hindsight, it might not have been the ideal catalyst, but still! She surely summoned a winner in Saint Catherine! Well, since she was a Muslim, she had absolutely no idea who Saint Catherine was. Thankfully, her Servant explained she was also known as Hypatia, which was someone Amara actually knew. Certainly, this expert mathematician was going to lead her to victory!

The two had cleaned up the mess, made small conversation, exchanged their names, some of their talents, and so on. At this point, they were sort of just standing there and wasting daylight. Servants made fine conversational partners (probably), but you can talk while you’re doing something productive!

So, the girl grabbed her servant by the arm, and began to head out of the Bookstore, and into the light of Fuyuki. It would be her first time seeing the day of another country! What an exciting day for her!

Any serious demeanor she had while talking with her Servant earlier was gone by this point. All that remained was the image of the momentary smile of a young girl finally getting to experience the world for once in her life. It was a wholesome moment, a rarity for Fuyuki.

If only the poor girl knew what horrors reality truly held.

---

---

---

“Master, don’t think because I’ve been gone for over 2000 years that my sense of style has faded. My fashion was the envy of the world during my reign! They’d make tablets of me in my casual wear and you’d find foriegn kings wearing it!

Kuuuuhahahahahahahahaaaaaaa!”

He erupted into a thunderous laugh as he spoke about his past. Oh, how the other kings of his era were truly inferior to him. Rider might not have seen eye-to-eye with YHWH, he could understand why his role was to punish but to guard. None of the others kings were competent enough to style themselves, let alone protect the world.

Thankfully, the modern world was full of competent leadership.

Right?

“The book you had was about fashion, right? Once we win this war, I’ll be on the cover of all of them! I wish we had something as efficient as these in Babylon! I’ll be able to educate everyone on a proper sense of style! Of course, you wouldn’t need such a lesson.”

His goal was noble enough.

The Master that had summoned him was truly an interesting case. She was, without a doubt, a top Magus. In that regard, there wasn’t anyone better to have summoned Rider. As a Master, she was ideal.

However, who cared about something as robotic as that?

Nebuchadnezzar was a person. Well he’s a ghost, but metaphorically he is a person.

He wouldn’t care if his Master was a fool who next to nothing about magecraft. None of that mattered. What truly mattered was the type of soul his partner was. A Grand is worthless if they’re lacking as a person.

However, in this regard, his master was also ideal.

She was intelligent, cute, and determined.

But most importantly?

She was a fool, just like him.

Nebuchadnezzar quickly caught up to his Master, walking next to her side by side. He placed his arms behind his head as he walked, letting his open shirt rustle with the wind

“So, Master, where did you want to go first?"

<Snipped quote by TehChron>
SHINTO DISTRICT, FRUITS OF ECSTASY

Servant Gunner

Times really had changed. Manfred couldn't help notice how much bigger everything was compared to his time and how much bright color was available. Being told information directly into your head was one thing, seeing it firsthand was another entirely. They had stopped shortly at the edge of the City to get him some less eye catching clothes at the edge of the Shinto District, Manfred got himself some easy sneakers, blue jeans and a comfortable red T-shirt. He couldn't resist. He also took the time asking his Master basic questions before they got into the City of what he could do, which turned out to be quite a lot with something as simple as a green thumb.

After the short stop they came to the a store named Fruits of Ecstasy of all things. Only a short time with his Master and he already knew it fit him to a T. It was near a place of intense foot traffic somewhat near the bridge. Turning to his Master who looked eager to explain further, Manfred began as such,

"From what I can see on the menu this is a place that makes, uh, shakes?" Gunner gives a brief squint at all the fruity options available.

"Not the kind of place I imagined to be during a good portion of this War, but with your particular skills I can see why. Are we to work here then?"
@TehChron

SHINTO DISTRICT, FRUITS OF ECSTASY


"No, the shakes are what we do for tips," Mehdi replies absently, toying with loose strands of hair as he palms his hand into trees lining the sidewalk before blinking, "OH!" He blinks owlishly before turning a cunning smile towards Gunner, "Yes, you and I need to blend in to our surroundings. Be a natural part of this city." The magus gestures towards the rest of the city, "In this city, we have the three families, who've long prepared for the war. They'll be looking out for oddities. Travelers. Suspicious trespassers into their little grove. But you and me?"

Master turns away from Servant, and approaches the door to the fruit bar, "We'll blend like in. Just another tree in the old forest."

As Mehdi enters the establishment, the pale man strides towards the counter of the fruit bar, where a lanky twenty-something stands at attention with the fearful attentiveness of those trapped in the hell that is the food industry. The raven haired magus closes the distance swiftly, slamming both palms onto the countertop while affixing the young man with a glare.

"Let me see your manager."

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm authorized to resolve any issues you have?" The shorter, nervous Japanese quails beneath Mehdis piercing gaze. The silence draws out for a moment, before he opens his mouth again, "Sir, I-,

"Let me see your manager."

The fruit bartender sighs, his shoulders sagging in defeat before walking towards the back. As he watches him go, Mehdi casts an appraising eye over his retreating figure before shaking his head in dismissal, idly peeling open the upper layers of his outfit, the better to expose his chest to the air.

In a few short moments a dimunitive figure trundles behind the bar, an older woman, still youthful appearing but honestly that told Mehdi nothing.

The new arrival cast an eye over him warily, "What do you want?"

Mehdi turned his best smile to the obvious proprietess, "Are you hiring? My friend and I," he gestures towards Gunner behind him, "Are searching for a place to work for a short while, just raise some money to fund the rest of our trip across your fine..." Mehdi leans over, as if to meet the older womans eyes. He traces her gaze and pauses, then continues to descend further and just turn it into a full fledged bow, "Country."

A faint feeling of heat bloomed over his chest as he felt the store managers hungry gaze linger, before he heard the sound of her throat clearing.

Got 'em.

"We can see what we can do." Mehdi leaned back up, still holding the woman's eye, "I'll need to see some identification for you though."

Red eyes twinkled, and the scent of an alluring, sweet breeze wafted from his body, "No, you don't think thats necessary at all."

She breathes deeply, her eyes going oddly placid as the woman's elevated heartrate took the particules that actuated the hypnosis through her bloodstream, and directly into her mind, "You're right. I don't." She grins simply, a sensation of childish euphoria filling her being, "You smell nice."

"I know." Mehdi smirks, "Now, why don't you tell me if there's any where my friend and I can stay around here...?"

“To think, that this ambrosia would spread even to the far reaches of the East…” Markansas pondered, staring at the open cardboard box in front of him.

“The land of the rising sun even thrust its own mascot on the brand,” He said, stroking a gloved hand across the small cheese-kun plushie that he had picked up at the restaurant, squeezed underarm. In his other hand, he held a glass of wine ordered from the same restaurant, which he sipped intermittently.

“The topping of sin makes a pizza so delicious… Would that the flames of perdition left it warm for longer.” When he’d placed the box down, there had still been a thin steam rising from it, but that had now disappeared entirely.

As he picked up a slice of pizza, his gloves began to soak in the grease of the cheese. A glob of tomato sauce dropped onto his extravagant cravat.

“Oh for fuck’s-”



Markansas licked at the scarf inelegantly, dabbing away the sauce with his tongue. Finishing up, he looked back towards his Servant. “If you require sustenance, devour to your heart’s content. The toppings are bacon, asparagus, and bolgolgi…”

Naturally, he had summoned an excellent servant. A name that resonated around the world. A name that had unleashed a blighted curse upon the world when unearthed.

Well, in truth he was a little worried that that sort of character would be a little too much for him, so it was probably good that it was just a kid, after all.

“So, it’s time to begin-” With poor timing, Markansas took another bite of the pizza, chomping down on his own words. “Begin this festival of pandemonium.” As he finished the slice, he leaned against a nearby grave, placing his palm near his face in a strange pose. At his instructions, the nearby puppet, dressed identically to him but for the mask covering its demonic face, picked up the box of cold pizza.

“It’s simply a matter of selecting our first targets.” He took an elegant, if small, sip of wine. “Unfortunately, my dark eyes of the abyss have been unable to glimpse any opponents. Yes, it’s unfortunate indeed. But a good opportunity for you to prove your worth as the right hand of the king of infinite hells.”

Despite his grandiose speech, it seemed the magus was at a loss as for what exactly to do after eating pizza in a graveyard, and looking to his Servant for advice. Whether the pharoah realised this or not, Markansas was not the type to talk directly.

@Yankee