It isn't a plea or begging that calls out the shape of the hero called Archer — perhaps something so desperate would hardly reach his ears. It isn't a quite a singular, focused drive that calls on him, though, of course, it may be there, it isn't something that he responds to. Perhaps a man more noble might. Perhaps a hero more dedicated to the 'justice of children', or 'growing a dream' or something along those lines may.

But those are not the Archer she calls upon. Ha, can one even call this a 'man'? This is scarcely more than a boy - thin, lithe. He can't be older than fifteen, at the very, very oldest, but he's most certainly younger. But there's an edge there — he doesn't let it rest on his fair features for long, but there's a certain tilt to his lips as the room is filled with golden light, and thick smoke. A certain look in his eye. There's a question unanswered. If not to fulfill the dreams of his new Master, or to fulfill some honored duty of protecting youth (There is something to be said of his Master being older than he, but it isn't something worth uttering!), then what?

"Most importantly let's do what we want to while we can!"

He steps forward, eyes darting around the room. It's plenty to take in — but none of it means much to him. There's a singular thing worth paying attention to, so far as he's concerned. The girl who called him here. His features soften on that, and he raises his left hand in a lazy, casual, playful wave. "Oh, hi hi, Master~!" It's like watching a chameleon shift in color, between the moments of predatory precision and the snap swap to jovial friendliness and energy. He bounds to her, looking her over from head to toe — leaning closer to her than even some of the loosest bounds of propriety might allow, to say nothing of Japanese custom. His nostrils widen.

He is smelling her. There's no doubt about it. None at all. His tail — twists around behind him, as he leans back. Is he pleased? He pads around her, his finger to his lip, tail swishing behind him, ears twitching slightly. It's a full enough inspection of the girl who called him down, for reasons he scarcely cares for. "Ah, wait, hold on, I think I'm supposed to say something else, aren't I?" Ah, he caught himself. That's probably for the best.

He steps back in front of her, and falls to a knee. Finally, some real sign of obedience, and a more than tacit acknowledgement of their bond.

"Archer, Parthenopeus. Just tell me who to kill, Master."

Perhaps she did not realize what she was doing, saying it quite like that. Perhaps she wasn't aware of what promise she was offering that boy. The consequence of that question — if they're truly to do what they want, while they may, then he will kill. He will taste that glory of combat, on a battlefield far greater than any he's ever seen before.

"Of course," he adds, breaking the position he's taken, and glancing up, eyes shining bright, their pupils catching even the meager light and making them stand out clearly, glimmering even in the shadow, to stare into his Master's own. "If you can keep up, that is."

---

A knife through flesh. The work is exact, but not by way of necessity, only by way of expertise. The blade works through the abdomen, carving vertically, across the stomach and then higher, up the ribs. It's a good start to a long process. Cleaning kills is something that takes a long time, but it's something that takes a long time out of respect for the animal. There's no good cause to rush. There's no good reason to butcher an animal without respecting the life it lived, or to waste something in your blind rush for good meat. Kills are spoiled by the way of letting them be, not by some freak accident. And, so, Pumak will make no such mistake. The hide is cut away from the meat, and set aside. The entrails are set aside, as is the heart. He'll use those today, but the use of the ribs and the horns will come later, as will the hide. By the end of his hour of careful carving, what's left is a sorted pile. A pile of organs — the heart, the brain, the entrails. Meat, sliced into large, bloody chunks. Bone — only the bone he can use effectively. The antlers, the ribs, the larger leg bones. Everything else is either buried or burnt.

He wipes his knife off, and puts it away. A few pieces of venison on a large, thin stone, set over the fire won't take too long to cook through. It's easy work. Easy breakfast. ... It's also definitely illegal, he realizes. Isn't this poaching? He looks at the fat bubbling off his kill, as the meat starts to turn less pink, and starts laughing. Ah, what of it, really? It's not wrong to take what the Earth offers you, so it's not worth holding a law like that highly.

He's about ready, then. Once the meat is cooked, he takes it off the fire. A few new branches are loaded on, that smoke more heavily, setting off a darker, blacker plume of smoke into the air. He lays the heart, the brain, and the entrails near the base, so they burn quickly, catching on fire and crinkling dark. A sacrifice, even if he's rather certain that doesn't do much of anything for him. ... Well, he wasn't going to eat those parts, anyway, so it isn't a great loss to him.

He focuses on that smoke, close enough that it's all he can see, all he can smell. It's enough to make his eyes water, but he keeps his face there regardless. He does not call out in English, or Japanese, to try to address the Grail in such a way. Instead, he'll speak it from the heart, in his own tongue. A dialect long forgotten, from a small tribe, a forgotten subgroup that's been lost to the stresses and marching of man.

It's almost a song, really. He does not sing well at all — certainly not while breathing smoke, for one. But he sings truthfully. He sings of his life. Of the wars that he's fought for his people, of the great spirit hunts he's been on. Of the people he's saved from sickness and death. He even talks about those things they hardly ever tell outsiders — of the funerals he's attended to, of the family he's been allowed to eat, and the family he's been forced to bury. About the battles he's fought, and the men he's killed. Of the enemies he's consumed. But also of the life that he's helped foster to the world — of the babies he's tended to, and the mothers he's saved. Of the loss of his home, to an inexorable force. Of the flight away. Of the years of solitude, communing only with the dead and gone, and the creatures of the rainforest. Of his integration into 'civilized society'. He sings his life story in a rough voice, calling out for a hero that suits him.

"And as my dreams are true - I'll make yours true, too."

Hardly a standard chant, but there's little value in that to this man. Power doesn't come from that kind of thing, he knows. A formal call like that doesn't reach any hearts, he's seen. But history, but painful memories — that's the nature of what it is to call for a hero. To call for an ally, in whatever form they take.

@Kyoka

“Will you be able to glimpse it?” Markansas echoed. “Ohoho… If my illusions have the power to deceive even Servants, I will pride myself on the depths of their darkness.”

As Tutankhamun talked about his abilities, his Master listened in earnest. Speaking with a soft tone for once, he said, “A curse is a terrible thing. A great burden that nonetheless imposes greatness. That is the fate for people such as us. I apologise for dragging your spirit from the great throne only to force you to embrace that… But remember, our wishes are what’s at stake here.” After saying that, he grew silent, perhaps embarrassed at his own sincerity, cloaked as it was in grandiosity.

As the pair strode towards the hotel, they were stopped, as someone notified them about the presence of a certain hero acting in public.

“Oh, how strange. Not only has the greatest hero of Greece been summoned, but somebody wants us to come to a confrontation…” Markansas pondered for a moment. “It’s only natural that the Twelve Labours Luminary would be confronted by myself, The Dark Deva of Destruction. But who is pulling the strings here?”

“Nontheless!” He proclaimed, raising a finger to the sky. “One must not cower away from one’s fate. First we will confront this Hercules. Then, we shall see who will next draw our ire. We will be able to visit my lair soon enough.” He placed a mask upon his face. It wouldn’t do to see the first great hero of this war without fully looking the part of the ‘villain’.



@Yankee@Over Illusion

@ObsidianNoir

Miyama Town

Well if the broad daylight assassin said it wasn't the best idea, who was I to argue? Gesturing with is head, they calmly turn back around while Rapheal thinks of what of been off. First point is that William Fleur is one of the more well known candidates here who specializes in Illusions, so no matter how open they looked their it may very well of been a trap to get people like him. Second is that they knew someone was near them like he did them via the Command Seals and their own Servants keeping them on edge or aware enough.

Sighing for almost being reckless him and Assassin keep walking over the rest of Miyama town. Figuring to reach a point to head over the Bridge to Shinto District they hear over passing civilians of something going down in the Commerce District. Apparently someone calling themselves Heracles was doing stunts and Yoyo tricks of all things, this was too obvious of a call. But it still brought some benefits, since anyone who heard this would most likely gather to see if Heracles really was summoned, a terrifying thought.

"I'm tempted but this would be really risky. I honestly don't want to tangle with Heracles this early if I can help it and whatever other Servants that pop up because of it. The incoming chaos could benefit us and the warning of the Command Seals or Servants would be useless in that kind of gathering." Slightly frowning while puffing a bit more at his pipe he continues."I may want to try keeping to the edges, close enough to engage but far enough to hightail it if need be. What's your take?"

One would think that for someone who was enrolled at the Clock Tower, someone who was held up high with an affinity in all of the elements, someone who was given subtle special treatment for having well-off circuits and for her value as an Average One. They'd be cunning, dangerous, calculating. Someone who knows what to do in situations in a battle royale between magi and their overpowered familiars: The Servants, The Heroic Spirits of Old and Legend talked about by the populace, adapted in various films, expanded in ways that the modern era would milk for some cash.

Someone who is very cautious while also showing aggression. A way to intimidate as shown in the society of the Mage's Association time and time again whether it is through politics or a show of talent.

And yet...

"Two days and I can only get my secret weapon done. Sheesh how do people start this dumb ritual anyway?" Cordula Rothschild Vennschneizen, Fourth Generation to the Vennschneizen Magus Family finds herself sighing at the prospect of a steel statue in the shape of a four-legged mammal, her circuits glowing with her right hand, twisting back and forth as if she had just lifted a dumbbell. She didn't realize she arrived way too early to the Holy Grail War and today supposedly marks the start of the Heaven's Feel ritual hosted by the Three Great Families.

"Well I guess that's that. I should get to work on a life-sized version of me next time I loiter around..." Yet again she speaks to herself, untying a rope as a wide black sheet covered her "secret weapon" to any intruder that might have found their way in whether it is by accident or for the purpose of spying. Two statues of oversized wolves were kept off the side as well as five figurines of hummingbirds on a nearby shelf. Crossbows were installed and positioned in blind spots to prevent from getting spotted upon entering. It's still morning so she has time to get with the summoning. The blonde girl took out a sparkly-looking crystal, glowing with an iridescent tone as she walked up the second storey of the warehouse, her summoning circle and reagents were set all that's needed now is to put it at the center and...

"...should I use my usual chant for my familiars? Nah... guess I should stick to standard." A hand raised, the Command Spell shining brightly above the circle as it glowed brightly. Her mouth opens, a gentle voice comes out:



@Flood

Too long had she suffered in this pit of torment, after having arrived upon metallic wings to bear her forth to Japan! Clearly too many were interested in the same thing as her as well...but why did the line for street food have to stretch for sooooooooo loooooooooong?! It had made her almost cross with things, and those stupid kids trying to shove to the front of the line like the swine they were, though no true heroine could save the day if she could not show patience! So she had waited, until finally the handheld met skewer was glistening before her eyes and was held in her hand. Finally she could get something to eat, and they had also thrown in a free piece of toast with-...hmm? What was that?

A commotion was being had, disturbing the meal of the city's great heroine! Something about a legendary hero back in the world? Wait, he claimed he was the mighty Heracles?! What was she to do? Where was she to go? Was it wont to follow in the footsteps of greatness, to seek a being long past by following the crowd to what would be a legendary encounter???

“Master, I’ll be checking this out. Enjoy your meal. And make sure you’re still practicing when I come back!”

...EEH?!? She still had to practice at a time like this?! She was happy to learn, and had been very open to her servant's desires in this regard. However, the orange-haired girl seemed to pout, before sticking the slice of buttered toast in her mouth and running off in the direction of the crowd. The guitar slung over her back, something acquired en-route to Fuyuki for her to "practice" with at her servant's behest, lightly jostled as she bolted at a dead sprint for the Commerce District.

"Hey! Don't just leave me here alone, Teacher! I want to see Hercules too!!! I'll even practice there, I promise!" she communicated back to her servant.

With food in mouth, and the skewer in the small paper food carrying device it had been served in, the heroine thus sallied forth to the call of destiny! Though some around Zooe could not help but recall the image of a generic schoolgirl, running to get to class on time, as she moved past them.



@ReallyDumb

---

One thing was abundantly clear here...her master was a total idiot.

Not only was he a total idiot, but he was someone with no survival skills to his name. Even a small dog could probably kill the man, given the right chance to strike. It was that sad. It was also frustrating, like he was. Very frustrating. It had taken a lot initially to hold herself back from beating him to death. Yet his magecraft was at least something usable, so he was an 'idiot savant' if naught else, and his circuits gave her the juice to actually function and battle properly in this form. So she had to compromise to a 'certain extent' at a minimum, which she had been doing thus far, though most of said 'compromise' consisted of not butchering the man when he got on her already-live-wire nerves as a Berserker. With that in mind, she felt she was off to a great start for the day as compared to last time someone got on her nerves this much!

"What kind of half-assed, stupid question is that? Choose the damn beef one!"

Of course beef ramen was the best. Did this man grow up under a rock, or in the back of some primitive cave?! By this point already he was pissing her off more, by wandering around in this stupid store for what felt like forever! Then again, it was less stupid than trying to charge out and kill a god without a divine blade in his hands. That she could concede to try to calm herself down. So in this case, she had resigned herself to sigh and grit her teeth somewhat for it all. Albeit she did empathize with the store clerk on this one. 'Sigh' indeed.

Though despite the added frustrations of being laden with the bags of junk food as they left the store, her master did at least admit his level of pathetic weakness and stupidity. Well, at least somewhat. Sighing to herself internally, Yamato deigned to at least respond to the man.

"I'm surprised you've survived this far in life at all, much less doing anything else beyond that. But unless ya' stab me in the back, betray me, throw me to the dogs, or piss me off way too damn much somehow, you've got my support. So yeah, you can count on me. And believe me, you'll know if you piss me off too damn much," the warrior responded, as blunt and brutal as she could be while still admitting her master could count on her.

She'd been loyal to a man who wanted her dead much of her life...wasn't like serving a buffoon was any worse. So indeed, she would remain loyal to this man unless he 'overstepped his boundaries' as the more modern term put it. Besides, this man was her ticket to the Grail and her most precious wish. Anything else that stood in her way would get cut to ribbons, shredded like meat thrown to the wolves, and scattered across Japan's landscape in a bloody mess. That was a promise.

Yet as they talked, Yamato's senses and instincts quickly rang in her head like an alarm. Ah. At least one servant was in the vicinity already, and all it took was a quick glance to the other side of the street to notice. A virtual giant of a man with white hair and tan skin, an utterly alien thing to Japan, sitting on a motorcycle and keeping some sort of careful attention on them. Without skipping a beat, Yamato held up one hand and 'shot a bird' to the motorcycle man with her right arm as the flimsy plastic bags slid down into the crook of her elbow. This was accompanied with a dirty glare, something that spoke further volumes of "f*** off asshole". She dared not speak it aloud, as she had no idea what her master would do if he knew at least one servant was around.

There was also that odd couple with creepy vibes she saw a ways down...who were admittedly coming along the same path they were taking but in the opposite direction. Maybe it was just coincidence, but one of them appeared European physically and she didn't care to be nice to anyone that could be an enemy right now. Or perhaps she was just venting some amount of steam in all of this. Either way she tossed another even more rude gesture and dirty glare at the couple as well. Screw them too, whilst she felt pissed enough as it was. In fact, screw all of these idiots in this damned Holy Grail War at that!

Maybe after this she could take some of her master's money and go to a hot spring. That'd soothe the nerves enough for sure, especially if she found some pretty girls there, despite her passively more frustrated and easily-ire'd state. Then tonight would be time to get serious-...eh?

As another man exited the store, another seemed to run up to him and speak in a hurried voice behind them...just where Yamato could hear. Something about a big Greek hero guy performing in front of a bank? EH??? What the hell was a servant doing, pissing around and bragging in public?! Were they out of their goddess-forsaken minds?! Was her master hearing any of this crap as well? What in the name of the Emperor was going on with this day?!

@Reflection @Lucker13 @ObsidianNoir

---

For some strange reason, William got the feeling Yamato didn't quite like him all that much. Oh well, that's just life! Not everyone is gonna like you, not everyone can make friends with you, you just gotta cherish the friends you do have! Which was... the Einzbern Homunculus! William should go visit her sometime this week, she's around because of this Grail War right! They could talk, have some lunch and tea, maybe discuss how she's adjusting to life in Japan. He was certainly adjusting well, some could even say he's "living his best life" here! Yamato remarked on how amazed she was that William had even survived, but he just nonchalantly shrugged with a smile.

"I have been fortunate enough to live a blessed life away from society, pampered by beautiful maids and skilled attendants throughout my life. I suppose you could call this little break from the usual, an adventure! Something that my ancestor Merlin would have done while serving the King or the Knights of that oh so famous Circular Table." He remarked, simply explaining away his uselessness as if it was something he couldn't do anything about. "But you can count on me Saber, I simply don't have the heart to betray someone as beautiful as you~" It was strange how smoothly he lied, one moment calling her by name and the next calling her Saber as he looked around. The man on the motorcycle was clearly a threat, a Servant judging by how hostile Yamato was to the giant of a man and how on edge she was. His Command Seals burned slightly, he turned on Master's Clairvoyance and looked around subtly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he smoothly muttered an incantation under his breath.

To everyone observing the duo, it would appear as if they suddenly turned the corner into a dark alleyway, ripe for ambush as they seemingly took a shortcut back to their base. In reality, William had seamlessly cloaked the duo then created an illusionary copy into the alley to throw any pursuers off their trail as they walked towards the Commerce District. "Don't be alarmed Yamato, but I've cast an illusion over us to throw our onlookers off our trail. We'll be heading to the Commerce District to see if Herakles is actually there, he could very well be a great threat considering his legend." He didn't mention how he actually wanted to see the yoyo tricks too. Yoyo tricks are fun.





She opened her eyes for the first time in centuries.

Conflicting memories crash together in her head, her story has been corrupted, altered by the false assumptions of mankind. It mattered not. Her lips twitch upwards as she looks around the warehouse, this would do as a temporary warcamp. She would have to conquer another's camp sometime tonight, she would expand her territory as she began her work. The world was corrupt, full of sinners who scorned the almighty and brought down His wrath. This is why she had been summoned after all, her work in this world had not been finished. Her mouth opened and brought forth words with the Authority of A King.

"The God of War descends upon the battlefield. I am A͘t̍̈ͩͣ͂ͤ̚҉̤ī̸̪̩̺̟̪̠ͤ-͕͉̙͖̽̊̎̓ͧ̇̐̕ Altera. I have been summoned forth in the Lancer class to bring punishment upon the sinners who reside in this city. From here forwards, you are now a Hun. As a Hun, you are obliged to heed my commands so we may conquer our enemies and erase the corrupt civilization. You may now thank me."

There was that burning of her command seal... Well shooooot, turns out this coffee shop had a mage in it. A mage in the grail war. As she peeked in, it was clear it could be one of the only two people in the building. Either the tall man changing into his uniform in public... Or the person answering the door. Chances were... The person at the door was a mage, and the other was their servant. Well, time to be really polite, and hope the servant was the nice guy sort.

“Welcome to Oasis. What kind of succor may we offer?”

Succor. It means support. In hard times and etc. She was actually kind of thankful the man seemed rather educated. Proved some kind of point she figured. She could tell he was faking it though. Her magecraft was in freedom of expression, so she knew when somebody was putting on a fake smile.

"Well, I figured I could use... A dark roast. Maybe sprinkle a little nutmeg in for a spike of flavor?" She really didn't know her coffee, but she figured that sounded nice, so it couldn't be that bad. "Oh, and can you make two? I'm ordering for a friend as well." She walked behind Rahma, smiling and even winking at Arash in the process.
"So, since the cafe is empty besides us, maybe you can tell me your name?" She said, directing this at Arash, since he was the only one of the two who didn't have a nametag. Probably a good idea, to keep his secret. Though, the way she said it was almost a flirt.

"Oh, and on the cup, put my name as... Ariadne, and my friend as... Friend, but with a little heart next to it." She added, directing Rahma a little. She figured he'd hate it, but at the very least it was probably something he put up with daily.
"To be honest, this is a rather nice little place you have going. You clearly set up quite the shop. I can see why Neko recommended I stop by sometime. You know, I think she likes you. Though that's just a rumor." She said, blabbering a little. She just had that bubbly chaotic energy, and she couldn't stand silence. "Don't tell her I told you that. But, I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each other soon, you know? Since I plan to get a coffee each morning. I'm not really a coffee person, but your cute waiter boy over there kinda makes me wish I was."
__________________________
@Senseless@Breo
__________________________________________________________________


Well, that wasn't too nice. The King of Persia scowled at that 'bird' delivered his way. Well, he had already been told not to get involved. So, it wasn't like he was going to attack them before, and he had even less reason to do so now. At the very least he knew this figure was... Well a stand out. They might have to talk later. Though with her attitude it probably said there wouldn't be an alliance any time soon. He turned his attention to the road, only to spot a less strange pair. They were talking to each other, and looking at the mage. He couldn't sense any magical energy from one of them, but the other? He caught a slight red on their hand from a distance. A mage. The other, maybe an assassin. He didn't think on it too hard, as the pair were clearly deciding against any kind of attack.

He lightly turned the handle on the motorcycle and began to pull off. After all, he had other things to investigate. Except... "Hey, did you hear Heracles is performing at the bank!"
Rider paused. Xerxes paused. His eyes wide as he looked at the talking duo of regular folk he had been ready to drive right on by. Heracles. The Spartans were descended from him. He knew this. He knew this, and his blood began to boil. He wasn't a Berserker, but he knew that if he was... He would be rampaging right now. He hit the gas, and peeled off. After all, he already completed one mission... Now, for something personal.

Miyama Town ---> Commerce District, Bank
__________________________
@Crusader Lord@Flood@Lucker13

A second passes and she had to remove her shades to blink at what just happened. The tan woman painted in mysterious tattoos appeared before her claiming herself to be an "Altera". Altera? Furthermore she declared her own Master, Cordula, one of her faithful Hunsman. A Hun? Was there an Altera The Hun? Or was this an accent that she herself perceives as Altera. Could it be...? Attila The Hun?

She puts a hand on her chin, her fingers scratching every bit of non-existent beard hair while she looked her up and down with her beautiful emerald irises face to face against Altera's own bright rubies. Everything about her felt off for many reason:

Firstly. Attila The Hun was a War God? She expected something along the lines of a Roman or Greek Hero blessed by said War God, she mentioned Mars. She knew she did.

Secondly. Was Attila always a girl? There were no accurate depictions of Attila The Hun only something along the lines of big, bad and a nasty attitude. The girl before her seemed to be the exact opposite of what "Hun sources" or "Roman sources" say. The beauty before her exemplified what a King was despite her audible roars of warlike tendencies just rumbling the atmosphere of this very warehouse.

She nods, hand put away on the side before speaking up to her Highness, the Great King of Destruction.

"Not to be disrespectful, your Highness, but isn't it Attila? And why are you a girl?" Okay. Getting out there with the straightforward requests, she hopes she doesn't behead her... she even doubts that the Silk Strands could keep her at bay, hell... she didn't want to use her super secret surprise familiar hidden underneath a black sheet. She did remember her Command Spells but would it be enough before she gets met with that long spear just driven towards her mortal gut?

Too much information at once but for some reason, Cordula was able to hold it in externally, she was panicking. If she had the mind of an Atlas Alchemist then perhaps she could formulate a plan properly under pressure.

OKAY BRAIN THAT IS ENOUGH. TRY NOT TO PANIC I'M SURE ATTILA HERE WON'T GO BALLISTIC WHEN I DISRESPECTED HER RIGHT?!

Right? @Flood

It as a warm smile full of kindness and patience that he answered her request with. It was also completely fake, of course, but was that really such a terrible thing? People put on fake smiles every day to deal with whatever was at hand, so it was really only “expected”, wasn’t it?

“Of course, thank you for your kind words, right this way.”

He motioned for her to get in and take a seat at one of the tables still prepared, firmly planting himself on “no comment” territory when it came to any more than compliments to his store. It was the only way to win with customers like these.

“We also have cakes and such, but I will let you look at the menu to see if you are interested, for now…”

His hands practically flew over the ingredients with practiced ease and the flair of an expert, never once hesitating and picking exactly what he needed for the order. There was a sudden silence, only broken by the soft hum of of the man as he practiced his craft and the smile became ever so slightly more genuine.

Nine hundred years’ worth of generations of coffee makers, and in his case, two decades of personal experience added to such. Truly, he was a veteran of this battlefield.

And truly, he loved this part of the job.

As time passed, new people would start filling into the opened store and placing their own orders, but he was confident on Archer being able to handle that much — and he was probably a better fit for a waiter than him anyway.

But setting that aside, he finished both orders promptly and turned to the girl, carrying them on a tray and signed with their names as per specifications.

Yes, even the heart thing that made him want to drag customers over the counter and commit bloody murder.

“Miss Ariadne, your order. Enjoy your coffee, do not hesitate to ask if you want something else.”

@Senseless @Reflection

The Matou Master closes their eyes in a relaxed manner as they are assaulted by the sudden light. Seems like the summoning worked well enough. Momentarily a hand was raised to provide a little more protection. Didn't want the risk of damaging them after all, but that worry was set aside the light quickly fled from the room. In some ways that was a bit more intense than she thought but in other ways relatively smooth.

Her eyes took a moment to readjust to the once again chamber of darkness. Ahh a light source might have actually been helpful for once, annoying. Well not all was bad about that, her eyes adjusted quicker than most would. Tsumugi now saw the servant that stepped forward from the circle. A young boy, a few years younger than herself she would guess. There was also a tail. And a pair of cat ears... There seemed to be something mischievous about him. Or perhaps mischievous was too tame... Malicious? No. Now it seemed to just be a cheerful young boy greeting a new friend. The cats I know would have scratched me by now, in that case so far so good.

"Oh, hi hi, Master~!" The boy, her servant spoke his first words to her with a playful wave. Seemingly enjoying himself.

Tsumugi nodded her head and gave a bit of a lazier wave in response although the intent of a friendly greeting was the same. "Hey there, pleasure to meet you." She was not well versed in greetings. So a textbook response should be fine no? Well chances are it didn't meant much one way or the other how she responded considering what was about to happen.

Her servant broke right through what one might call their 'personal bubble', while others might have been uncomfortable or awkward about it, Tsumugi just kind of stood there and let her servant do whatever it was he was doing. She did not mind watching him, it was quite curious after all. And it was doubtful he would mind her analysing him a little, after all that seemed to be what he was doing to her. She thought? That wasn't exactly clear to her. The sniffing was a little off putting. She was glad she had washed before the summoning.

"Ah, wait, hold on, I think I'm supposed to say something else, aren't I?" The boy stopped what he was doing and retreated, extending their proximity to a more reasonable degree. Tsumugi smiled pleasantly at him.

Her servant fell to a knee before her and said- "Archer, Parthenopeus. Just tell me who to kill, Master." That seemed to settle the contract, and also show her servants eagerness to participate in the war. Excellent.

Bark. Bark. the hounds barked at the top of staircase that led up into the manor.

Looks like someone has come to us. Just in time too. I wonder what they are up to...

"Of course," Archer continued before she had the chance to respond, well that might have been a little awkward on her part but she had a good explanation for that. Her servant stared into her eyes. "If you can keep up, that is."

Something along the lines of a sneer found its way to Tsumugi's lips, although it was not quite as blatant or rude as a usual sneer. She did not try to hide anything in her eyes. Let him have a good look and let him feel how he wants about it. Was the idea, no words were needed. In these eyes her servant would find a strong resolve to do just about anything. Maybe resolve was the wrong word actually. This human didn't seem to really care what it was they needed to do, they would do it without really thinking about it.

Bark. Bark. It was the dogs again. She hadn't meant to ignore them.

"Well Archer. Your first kill might be waiting for you outside my gates as we speak." Tsumugi spoke nonchalantly, it would be good to see what her servant is capable of sooner than later. She would have to trust Archer to be able to handle this situation.

"Although... If they are not necessarily hostile at least hear out what they have to say. If you don't like what they have to say you can go ahead and kill them though. If they happen to be interesting you can wait for me if are feeling patient. I will try to be only a few moments." Tsumugi gave out her orders confidently, she did not feel bad about relying on Archers judgement. This war was to be a team effort so trust in each other should be a given.

Tsumugi closed her eyes. She concentrated. She would gather some familiars, just in case. As the two of them stood in the dark chamber below the Matou manor, bug like creatures began to crawl out of the holes in the wall and make their way towards the centre.

Interacting: @Gracefully
Relevant: @Aoko Aozaki , @Phlogistinator

Miyama Town - Kawakami Gensai

@Lucker13

Gensai huffed at the gesture her fellow servant sent her. How barbaric. There was no need to be so rude, yet this girl seemed to be in a bad mood. Quite frankly, if it weren’t for the bad feeling she was getting and the lack of information, she’d want to cut her down right then and there.

The Assassin hummed in thought, at the words of her master. While she agreed that there was no way she could take on someone like Heracles, the grail giving her more than enough details about the demi-god, she could not deny that a gathering of servants could be a great boon, if only to observe then. However, she wouldn’t be the only one with such thoughts. And while she was adept at keeping a low presence, the chances of servants arriving who were just as adept or even more skilled at detecting were higher than she’d prefer it. Too many threat factors for a ‘mere’ scout mission. Maybe she was being a coward at the moment, but she knew, unlike in her life, that her targets weren’t filled with weaklings that keeled over just by being pushed hard enough.

“Let us stick to the initial plan. Who knows, maybe we can find some stragglers to take out.” She tapped the side of her cheek, while still holding onto him with a smile. “Or we can see those ‘news’. If this Heracles makes such a commotion, surely the local authorities will pay attention?”

As mana collected around the circle and spawned a brilliant, dazzling light, Jigen stumbled backward in surprise. He landed with a thud on the ground behind him and stared up at the bright glow until it took the form of a man. Really, more than a man the guy in front of him was like some kind of Western painting or... wrestling advertisement. Still, he was cool as hell! Before Jigen could greet him properly, the spirit - was he a spirit? - motioned for a moment of silence and went about trying out his new body. At least, that's what it seemed like to the school boy. He watched the man throw strikes that split the air and couldn't believe that the ritual had actually worked. No, really...

It worked?! I - I did it! Good job, me!! I summoned a... a super hero! Or something!

The hero in question lifted his belt high over his head and called out an impressive introduction, and Jigen jumped back onto his feet with sparkles in his eyes and a big grin on his face. The student threw his arms up in celebration of whatever victory he'd apparently had. That suspicious old book had been real all along (narrator: it wasn't) and now he had this giant Westerner to... do something with! Jigen had originally done the ritual with the intent to get some life advice, maybe he'd get some kind of diet and training regime from this guy?

"Amazing!" Jigen cheered, running a quick circle around the muscled man, "Really, you're amazing! Sei-ba? That's your name? Nice to meet you Saber! I'm Saito! Saito Jigen! I - "

The boy slowed his enthusiasm after trying the foreign word on his tongue, as he thought about what the man - Saber - had actually said.

"Wait, what war?"

---

Berserker listened to his master prattle about his supposed illusion and quickly wrote it off as a lie. So a normal hotel, then, if fortified. Perhaps lie was a little strong of a word, he'd have to stick with delusion. Then as Markansas continued after the explanation about his Noble Phantasm, Berserker was very nearly about to just turn his brain off until he was actually needed, but the genuine tone of his master's voice stopped him.

He didn't say anything beyond a mere "Hm," to show he'd heard the magus, but Berserker quietly contemplated his master's words. So, the fool could be insightful when he wanted to. That was... reassuring, somehow. He was an enigma, but for now, Berserker couldn't say he hated the man. Besides, he was right. As terrible as it was, as unsightly as it was, as awesome and fearsome as it was, they wielded that power for their own sake. ...Well said, Master.

Before too long the rumor of a modern day "Hercules" seemed to reach their ears. A little suspicious given the circumstances. It came as no shock to Berserker that Markansas intended to find and confront the man. The thought of facing down a hero such as Herakles was stupid at best, suicidal at worst, but the Pharaoh did just hint that being able to get a lucky hit in on a powerful foe early on might be a good course of action.

"Fine," Berserker said, making his hesitant agreement with his master's plan known with a click of his tongue through their link, "Let us evildoers challenge a hero."

The Great Hercules Show, Commerce District
@Over Illusion

Cradling his head, Tom got back up unsteadily. Waking up from a concussion was never really the most enjoyable thing, as it meant headaches, some soreness due to awkward collapsing positions, and...unfamiliar locations…

Taking in his surroundings, Tom could find nothing to indicate that this was indeed the basement he had been summoning his Servant in. Had the Triad caught him? Or was it those Yakuza from Hokkaido who’d ended up with a soured business relationship? Either way, he wasn’t exactly in a position to find out. His hands fly to the knife he had on him, ready to cut his way out with adrenaline pumping through him before he hears the chants of the crowd.

Her...cules?

Oh that’s right, he had succeeded. Feeling slightly sheepish, he withdraws the hand clasped around the weapon and instead watches Hercules perform amazing feats for the crowd. His Servant likely took the initiative to properly spread his name, so every pair in the war would either view him as a prime opportunity to ally or give a wide berth until they were sure enough of their own capabilities to take on the legend himself.

Slipping through the crowd with ease, Tom positioned himself at the front of the crowd to see his Servant in action. He would burn this sight into his single eye. He would record this legend within his heart. He would-

-be the true judge as to this yo-yo contest.

"Well met. You are the rare example of a worthy opponent."

-The two forces clash, amidst a throng of shocked onlookers. There is no doubt, the attacks each of them have levied are poised to bring the other to an end. There is no hesitation in those motions- these are surely strikes intended to kill.

Even Commodus makes no exceptions. Even though he had simply planned on showcasing his might to the populace, that lighthearted fun became secondary once this battle had begun.

"Y-You...!"

The sound barrier is trivially torn as Commodus' weapon breaks through the air. It strikes through the enemy's defenses with each movement, penetrating past those minute gaps shown. A strained voice escapes the enemy's mouth- even his eyes cannot follow Commodus' assault. Not the sweeping arc of a blade, but a flash of light, woven in a maelstrom lattice. He cannot discern the attack coming for his heart.

And yet, that enemy resists. Standing tall, he tightens his grip on his own weapon. Prediction using the information obtained. Planning using cultivated experience. This is nothing extraordinary, merely the skill that enemy possesses- a simple weapon that anyone can gain through hard work. And yet-

"You've forced my hand."

Against that weapon, Commodus has no choice but to answer with his full force.


And so, space breaks.

---

Commodus stood victorious over his greatest enemy yet. The crowd was awestruck, cheering in raucous glee over the battle, a clash of titans that had sundered the world. And before the victor, the defeated enemy lay, collapsed.

"Th-That power, my 「Walking the Dog」 never had a chance..."

The shattered remains of the reigning Fuyuki Yo-Yo Champion's yo-yo laid in ruins at his side. Before the thoroughly-defeated eleven year old stood the man who had called himself Hercules, whose yo-yo bore a power that shattered the heavens themselves.

Rushing there on his long, noodly legs, Markansas arrived just in time to see the yoyo show conclude with the hero’s use of some sort of technique that seemed on par with a Noble Phantasm.

He paused only for a minute or two, doubled over, to catch his breath. Then, he paused again for a moment as his heart leapt at Hercules’ parameters. Steeling himself and forging ahead anyway, Markansas then broke out into applause. A slow, teasing clap. “Bravo, bravo. No less than I would expect from the Twelve Labours Luminary himself.”

Though Markansas was similarly a bombastic sort, who made little effort to hide his eccentricities, there still existed a ‘taboo’ in his mind. Mystery could not be revealed to those outside of the moonlit world. That much was obvious. But commanding such a hero to stop would obviously be futile. The best option, then, in Markansas’ mind, was to make the situation seem so absurd that any civilians would assume it was either some strange public performance, or the filming of a movie.

And of course, with Masters and Servants alike gathering towards the spectacle, it would be useful to introduce himself.

“To think that one such as yourself would appear here. But it’s only natural that the world would summon forth the greatest hero of Greece to deal with myself, the embodiment of all humanity’s evils.”

He paused for a moment. Hopefully, Hercules wouldn’t take a moment to destroy him now, considering he was already acting in broad daylight. “But of course, it would be premature to come to a confrontation right now,” He said, only a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Travel to the outskirts of the city, and there you will find the first of my Four Kings of Calamity. Or perhaps they are an opponent beneath your notice… If you are willing to risk that the first of my dark designs shall proceed as planned. Fufufufufufu....”

With that absolutely careless bluff, Markansas stopped speaking, ready to run the fuck away from the terrifying Servant at a moment’s notice.

@Yankee@Over Illusion

His Master was suitably impressed. Very good, it would not do to be called by a magus who saw him as only a tool to be wielded, or dismissed him out of hand.

He was willing to do many things, but the fact of the matter was that as a legend of man, Saber still had the ‘pride of a hero’. In that regard, they had started on the right foot, and for that alone, he would be willing to give his services to the boy before him.

That’s right, he would do so! Else his name wasn’t Sab—

…Huh?

Oh…oh dear, so it was like that?

Saber tried to find even the slightest inkling of deception, but the boy’s eyes told him he was being earnest, and genuinely confused about his statements thus far. And then, he was hit full force by the realization that he had been working under a terrible misunderstanding of the circumstances.

The one who had called him forth had not done so out of any intention to join a battle for a wish-granting device, but on pure accident. And now, he was likely to be targeted because of it, in spite of his own ignorance.

…He wanted to laugh, just a bit. If it wasn’t one thing that was the problem, another would rear is head. That was always the problem with him, no?

Go slay a monster, only for it to turn out to have been just a child. Find someone you love, only to lose them to your own stupidity.

Answer a call desiring to finally lay the past to rest, only succeed in bringing about new regrets. Perhaps that was just his fate — hadn’t the Oracle told his father he would die of grief should he be born?

“...I guess I’m just bad luck.” He let out a chuckle, arms folded as he looked at the confused Master.

If he had to guess, he was indeed as inexperienced as he looked, as well. That meant their chances only dwindled further. Saber’s own desire suddenly felt hopelessly out of reach. But even so…

His disposition changed.

To begin with, he had also been approaching this matter from the wrong starting point. He had thought he would be summoned by a proper magus who would have commanded and worked with him to obtain the Holy Grail, but much like this revelation would change how he had to approach the matter of the War, it also necessarily had to change how he approached the relationship.

He had not been called by a man seeking to trample over others for the sake of their wish — and that was what this ritual was at its core, no matter how noble the wish one fights for might be.

He had been called by someone on accident, who had gotten involved in this deathmatch and now Saber would be their lifeline.

Very well, then. He put aside the thoughts of his desired meetings, the disappointment that it would be unlikely that he saw them through and the heartache it brought.

Instead of a warrior answering the call for glory—

“Ah, my name’s actually not Saber. Athens’ Peerles Heroic King, the son of Poseidon, Theseus, at your service,” The smile turned into something far gentler compared to the boisterous smirk he had sported moments prior. “And I feel like we have a lot to talk about, Master.”

—He will once again be a hero for someone else’s sake.

@Yankee

….A hero

A genuine hero.

She had done it. Tabethya had succeeded in her attempt to bring forth a great hero. The Lancer Class servant, clad in silver armor that reflected the limited light pouring itself through the dilapidated house’s window, sparkling as it refracted off of the orbicular shoulder of his pauldron. The autumn wind from the very same window also picked up, gently jostling his cloak as he stood there with an unflinching smile plastered upon his face. He was incredible.

She was awestruck. Tabethya could hardly move.

His eyes shined. A beautiful man whose eyes shone with the vigor and strength required to be a hero. That was the “Servant: Lancer” Tabethya had pulled from the aether itself!

Although Tabethya attempted her best to stifle her vacuous glee at having obtained such a powerful-looking Servant, it was for naught. After all, she had not expected to get too far into this Grail War. She was a weak-willed woman who simply did as her uncle wanted her entire life for as long as she could recall. Therefore, she believed that she would not summon anything of value.

She had imagined summoning some sort of Berserker she would not be able to control and dying within the first few moments of the Grail War. Perhaps, then, she could finally find respite from the wills of others imposed upon her.

But this man was much greater than that.

Oh, introductions. She probably kept her Servant waiting. She had hoped he would not be too angry with her. After all, when people were angry, she usually found herself hurt. That would not do. That would not do at all! She hated pain!

“A-Ah! Yes, yes, yes. L-Lancer, right? I will be your Master T-Tabi, T-ab, Tabetthya. P-Pleasure to meet you! Use me as you like!” she stammered, hardly able to form a coherent sentence around this shining man’s visage.

“W-What would y-you like to do, L-Lancer?”



The sound of fire. The sound of war. Ten shots rang out behind where Rider was standing, and ten rounds landed where the strange man had been summoning his Servant. Though Timur hoped to kill him before the summoning would take place, he doubted he could be that lucky. Or more aptly, he doubted that a man who was summoning within his territory would be so brash as to not have a plan. Even if he was a brutal man, he was cunning in his thoughts around warfare. No one would send a single mage to stall his advancing army, right? However, the enemy could not decern the location of these shots.

Rider did not know who this man was, nor did he truly care. After all, death and destruction were the only things that laid within his wake. Timur could not allow this to occur. To pouch on his property without permission would be against any-and-all of his rulings.

He was the Brutal Khan.

He was the ruler of this land.

The man that would unite[destroy] the world under his rule.

He simply stood there, his brightly incandescent sword in one of his hands. There had to have been at least two dozen meters between himself and the intruder, but this was nothing to a Servant. A toothy smile was present on his face as if he was enjoying himself, his black cape flowing within the wind. His dark armor reflecting the light caught flowing below the treeline from the jewels adorning it.

And it was likely he was. Combat was the only thing he enjoyed as much as women, after all. No, it wasn’t the combat itself. Perhaps, more aptly, it was the spoils of combat that he was truly after.

“This area belongs to me, but I’m a generous man. Leave, and maybe I’ll consider sparing your life! Gahahaha!”

Of course one might assume that shooting the people you are negotiating with would not be the most ideal way to ensure that your desires were met, but to the conquering khan, there would be only shows of strength against opponents. However, Timur was a man who would never lie to an opponent. That was the sort of man who united nearly the entirety of the middle east, India, and the steppes believed in.

However, regardless of his words, he kept looking towards his opponent with contempt, his sword raised aggressively.

---

So this... this is the power of a legendary Hero. William cast his eyes down, clenching his fists as he looked away from the great Heracles. His stats were strong, stronger than they had any right to be. But that could be overcome, it was why he had summoned Yamato as a Berserker rather than Saber, to outmuscle anyone with extreme stats like these. But that Noble Phantasm.... The crowd roared at Heracles's greatest labor while William and Yamato watched from atop a nearby building, hidden from the human eye as William cloaked them in a potent illusion.

How disappointing. How completely and utterly disappointing. Heracles was strong, of this there was no doubt, but this man... he was not the Hero he wished to see. This was a joke in the shape of a man, someone absolutely worthless to William altogether. Were it not for the fact that a crowd of people had been gathered around him, he would ask Yamato to go down there and dispatch this fool posthaste. This was not the ideal of a Hero that William came to see, this was not someone who could reach Avalon. Completely worthless.

"It would seem we've wasted our time here. Let us depart-" But perhaps not a complete waste of time.

A self proclaimed villain steps into the spotlight, to declare himself as the Greatest of All The World's Evils. Whether he be a villain as he claims or merely a fool seeking attention mattered not to William. What mattered far more, was that this was most assuredly a human stepping up to the greatest of Heroes. A Master judging by the red Command Seals that lay on his hand, an ordinary man challenging the gods. Well, not quite the gods but certainly an existence equivalent to a god compared to this boy.

"...one moment actually." William smiled as he pulled out a handful of flower petals from his coat, tossing them into the wind and whispering an incantation under his breath as he cast an illusion across the crowd. Where once there stood a gangly young boy challenging a behemoth of a man like a fool, now there stood a true Demon Lord. Black feathers of an angel danced about him, his presence amplified a hundred fold, nay, a thousand fold! A deep black aura enshrouded him, shadows highlighting the harsh contours of his face as the King of a Thousand Evils challenged the Greatest Hero of The World.

"Ahh, I see that you are quite knowledgeable of even the most esoteric of Reman rituals!"

Gatekeeper smirked, raising a watering can given to him by his Master above his head as he began to pour the water onto himself. Being lightly showered with water in such a way was one of the many "rituals" Gatekeeper had taught his followers. How else was Gatekeeper supposed to keep his muscles glistening, after all? And to have a Master who would only sensibly provide such a commodity... Truly, this 'Jack' is full of welcoming surprises! To have such an intelligent and experienced magus act as his partner in this war for a wish was a great sign of things to come.

Of course, Gatekeeper's opinions of his Master were quite favorable from the start. It wasn't every day that Gatekeeper would be called out by name, something that Gatekeeper blames his bastard brother for. What's more surprising however was the fact that his Master knew of his older name. One that Gatekeeper had chosen to call himself during the inception of his kingdom, and one lost to antiquity. It was a name so ancient that Gatekeeper himself felt the need to answer such a call.

"Mr. Reme..." Gatekeeper uttered to himself once more, out of pride.

Gatekeeper was happy that Jack had held "Mr. Reme" highly, as having such a loyal subject was key to ensuring that his empire would truly prosper. What's more, his particular foundation of magecraft was highly suited for the cultivation of Remus's empire. What would have taken weeks to set up and properly established has easily been condensed to the span of a few days. Soon, victory would be in Gatekeeper's hands. In just a few days, Gatekeeper's own empire would be born anew... and it will shine brighter than even his bastard brother's little pet project.

"Oho, more citizens, then?" Gatekeeper raised an eyebrow as his Master began to introduce his "friends". Dropping the now empty watering can, Gatekeeper summoned forth a beautiful sword of divine origin, holding it in his hand as he raised it into the air.

"Rejoice, future citizens of Rema, and be bathed in the blessings of your new Emperor!"

Raising his free hand up, Gatekeeper sliced his palm open, allowing his deep red blood to spew forth like a monstrous wave of red, and to flow to each of the potted plants, bestowing them with various blessings. Cocking his head back, Gatekeeper laughed maniacally, howling his excitement much like a wolf.

---

_{@Over Illusion}


Ron watched the summoning progress in awe, raising the bottle of Sunny D to his mouth once more. However, before he could actually drink from it, the powerful winds produced by the ritual blasted his bottle away, causing the orange juice to splatter all over his eyes! Egads, that really stings! Much to Ron's misfortune, he was unable to fully witness his Servant's summoning as he began to dry his eyes. It was only after the newly summoned Servant approached him and offered her hand out that Ron's vision was once again restored.

"E-eh?"

For a brief moment, Ron was confused at the Servant he manged to summoned. Was the Knight of the Sun always this small and girly? This was nothing at all what Ron's mental picture of Sir Gawain was! He was suspecting some sort of dignified gorilla wearing a two-piece suit... Perhaps there was a mistake? Perhaps the Knights of King Arthur were all magical girls, transforming into their true knightly form when the situation calls for it? No, none of this made sense... at least, until Ron's eyes adjusted once more, gazing at the large bow slung across his Servant's back.

"Ahh... it all makes sense now. Instead of summoning Butler, I had summoned... Maider! Yes, of course! Why else would you have a feather duster that large? Everyone knows it's maids that look more aesthetically pleasing with such things after all! Yes, yes... this is even better than I had originally planned!"

Crossing his arms and giving a thumbs up with his gauntleted hand, Ron silently praised his first small victory in a series of smaller victories he will experience during the duration of this ritual. The Tohsaka then looked 'Maider' right into the eye, this time with a more serious expression on his face.

"Ron Tohsaka. Second Owner of Fuyuki, and Host of the Holy Grail War. If it is you who has chosen to answer my call, then I am indeed your Master."

Ron held out his hand confidently, reaching to shake his Servant's own once more in order to seal their contract. As soon as he had felt his Servant shake back in agreement, his face would shift once more to the foolish boy that his Servant was first introduced to.

"Now, first order of business is... clean this mess up! Actually, make sure the entire manor is spotless! I'm sure you are able to do that with one of your abilities as 'Maider', yes? Dad would kill me if there was a huge mess when he comes back... oh, and don't worry about me for now. I'll be up here, preparing for the War! Just let me know when you are done~"

And with a wink, Ron was off to his own machinations... I-it wasn't too late to deny the contract now, right?

---

_@Astarte

Arash gave a small smile at the young lady who was addressing him. Now he understood why his Master had been talking about young women before. It seemed that restaurants in this era used physically attractive employees in order to bait customers into ordering food and drink.

Truly, the modern era was a thing to behold.

However, when she asked for his name, Arash knew better than to actually give out his true name. Doing so would be the height of foolishness, even if this young lady wasn't hostile to him. With a lightly amused smile, Arash gave out a sort of alias he thought up on the spot. "My name is Aism Muzayaf, miss." His response was polite and welcoming, but not flirtatious in any manner. This isn't to say that Arash didn't notice the possible flirt that had been aimed at him, except for the fact that that's exactly what was going on. He may have been an Archer recognized by the Gods themselves, but Arash was still Arash.

Seeing that his Master had the young lady - Ariadne, a Greek name originating from the daughter of King Minos, loved and abandoned by Theseus - and that new customers were slowly drifting their way into Oasis, Arash grabbed a few menus and started taking orders. While Arash was a little shaky during his first couple of orders, he did manage to adapt to his new position quite quickly by using his own quiet confidence, and liberal use of his A-Rank Clairvoyance.

Truly, Arash had Armaiti to thank for most of his success, as per usual.

@Breo @Reflection