@Enkryption

“Mr. Ullser, would you and Saber sit in the hall? I'm sure, you and Ms. Khünbish will find a less posturing and unnecessary questions there,”

Reggie fixed the Director a gaze of scandalized offense. Did this just woman just tell him to go sit in the hall like a misbehaved elementary student? Who does she think she is, his mot-

"...snicker..."

He whipped his head to source of the noise and noticed Medusa had a hand over her mouth and taking a sudden interest with the floor decor.

"...Finding this funny, Rider?, Reggie asked, eyes narrowed.

"....A little bit, yes.", answered Medusa, being honest.

"Et tu, my goddess?"

"If it helps, the Director doesn't seem to be in the position to dole out childish timeouts when she herself is acting very much like one."

Sure enough, the young man would see Ritsuka get into an argument with Da Vinci....while sinking beneath the table and pulling a piece of tablecloth up, as if thinking that would be enough to block the sound of their bickering. With a deadpanned stare, Reggie would turn to others and simply put a hand out toward the Director as if he was giving a presentation.

The Director of Chaldea, ladies and gentlemen., he thought to himself.

“Eheheh~! This seems like a fun dinner party...” the Master of Assassin says, one eye open. “Ritsuka and Leona can argue for hours. If you have questions, I'll answer them. After all, I'm the lucky winner of the Jackpot...”

"Well to start off, what happened to the previous team? How bad has the situation become? How soon are we dropping into a Singularity?"

"I will also echo Archer's question. I'm curious as to what this 'jackpot' means exactly."

"Save the world... Ah." The moment that tidbit had slipped out of Da Vinci's mouth, Michel felt the true weight of the situation hit him like a runaway train. It wasn't as if he hadn't felt it coming: the anticipation had been wearing away at him for days already. There was a difference, however, between worrying about a possible future and staring it right in the face, knowing that the time to turn back had long ago passed him by. Now that he had been called up to rescue the planet, he couldn't just refuse, could he?

"Ahahahahaha..." With a soft, bitter laugh, he dropped his head, and spent the next minute or so focused entirely on his meal. The warmth, the savory tastes and manifold textures, a final taste of home. Barring Caster and the young Katerina, everyone else was speaking their mind, but Michel had nothing to say. What kind of question, or argument, could he possibly make that would change a fate so momentous? He wasn't even a real mage. He barely even understood this mission he was being sent on. So all he could do was keep moving forwards with a smile, and treasure every small moment that remained to him.

He raised a hand when Assassin came, and greeted her Master as she awoke. "Hello there! Welcome to the team." With his plate mostly clean, his attention focused more on the conversation around him, and though he didn't add any questions of his own to the pile, he would be listening very closely to the answers. That clown made him wary, but she knew things, had seen things that might still be beyond even what he was imagining.

And he couldn't forget Cordelia. Cordelia sitting just to his left, looking similarly overwhelmed by it all. Though he'd stayed largely quiet up to his point, Michel couldn't help but clear his throat and raise his voice in answer to Berserker's jibe:

"Isn't that okay, though? Mages are scary." A sly glance indicated the other Masters around the table, many of whom easily qualified as such. "Sometimes fear is the right answer. Sometimes you need to accept that it's best to run. Knowing when to be scared and what to be scared of are important skills too, and if I'm really going into a Singularity then I want that kind of person by my side."

It wasn't a lie. The last team going in must have had bravery to spare, and look where that had gotten them...

"for someone that is late to the briefing, you sure are well inform about the situation." Archer said shagging his ginger coloured hair. His tone is a hint of a sneer and suspicion.

"in any case, before we get side tracked. enlighten us, what do you mean by winner of the jackpot? I doubt that blood on your servant's face is no lame accident."

"Well to start off, what happened to the previous team? How bad has the situation become? How soon are we dropping into a Singularity?"

"I will also echo Archer's question. I'm curious as to what this 'jackpot' means exactly."

“Oi, oi... one at a time, one at a times,” grouses the Master of Assassin, as she opened her other eyes; the silver iris glimmered in the dimmed lights, before been hidden behind a chalk-white peekabang. “Nobody even asked by my name,” she chides, though her tone was playful, amused. “Penni, Penni Statton. Alignment: Benevolent Evil. Yes, this is my natural hair colour, so the carpet does match the drapes. And, yes, this is my natural skin colour. No, it’s not from albinism. Trust me, you don’t want to know how I got these scars.”

Scars. Her words. Despite that she didn’t have a single blemish in sight. Did she mean... her skin and hair were scars? Whatever she meant, it wasn’t up for discussion, as she continued, “To Archer, and you, Rider, I mean: I survived out of 49 Masters. Seven Masters. Seven Servants. Seven Singularities. 7-7-7. The Grand Order: Jackpot... and I won.” Penni adjusted her hat; her somber smile never fading, “Now, to you, Master of Rider,” her silver eye centered on Reggie, “In order: They were all murdered. Killed by Servants and Monsters; some even killed each other, as friends turned to foes in desperation to survive. They did what they believed they had to. That’s just how Mages are. Self-centered. Self-preserving.”

“I’m sure you’re better, though. And, if you aren’t... well, I rolled Assassin and you rolled Rider, so it's just a matter of speed, isn't it...” Penni implied, “Second: I don’t know. Bad, I assume. We made progress, but I was a part of the Seventh Singularity. I can’t speak on the First to Sixth. I can’t imagine they made good progress,” she says, “And, lastly: That’s --”

“In the next hour,” Ritsuka interrupted, with Da Vinci in a Full Nelson, as the Rider squirmed. “That’s how long before the First Singularity will reboot,” she says, “Once it does, you’ll report to your Coffin, and prepare for Rayshift.”

“After that, it’s up to you whether or not that Coffin becomes yours, literally. Unless you wanna back out.”

“Honestly, could you be any more of a buzzkill...” Da Vinci grumbled.

However, it was painfully clear, now, “your last supper” wasn’t dramatic flair on Ritsuka's part, but the potential reality of their lives...

Cordelia couldn't help but smile a bit at the kind words offered by Michel, a bit of spine returning to the girl before she heard the Master of Assassin speak. Killed by Servants, monsters, and each other...Cordelia had to imagine. How easy would it be for a Servant to sneak past Samson and disembowel her? How much of a push would someone as nice as Michel need to wring her neck? She'd quiver a bit, before a hand was gently placed on her shoulder.

Having risen from his seated position, Samson would be in a position to comfort his Master...albeit, he'd use the least comforting words to do it. Negative motivation, one might call it when he said: "Well if you're scared, the Director has generously offered you a benchwarming position. Hell, give the word and I'll raise a fuss and get unsummoned. I'm sure I'd only get a swing or two in before I'm sent back to the throne," Samson said, eyeing the Assassin in particular as he said that. "...But if you're stupid enough for this, then you're every bit the moron I thought you were when you summoned me."

There would be a brief pause as Cordelia sorted out her thoughts, before placing both of her hands atop Samson's. "...You really...are the worst," she said with a nervous smile. "...But fine. On my family's honor, I'll gladly risk my life to prove I'm worth something," she said, looking at the other Masters present, then at her own soup before she picked up the bowl and started wholesale drinking it, foregoing her spoon entirely. Setting the bowl down and wiping her face, she'd stand up. "If that's all director, I'll spend my remaining time preparing my rituals. ...I hope you recover swiftly, Ms. Staton," Cordelia said, presenting herself as every bit the mage's daughter she looked. She'd take a step away from the table, looking back over her shoulder at Michel. "Oh and...thank you for the words of confidence. I promise that I won't run unless its strictly necessary."

Samson would stay behind, seeing as he didn't have much need to help Cordelia with her stuff. Instead, he'd stand against the wall and observe the future going-ons of the last supper. Which may or may not have included sizing up this "Tamamo" that he wasn't allowed to fight. He hadn't gotten a chance to "read" her strength with his skill, but he had certainly felt his body's limitations growing higher while it tried to understand Tamamo's.

@Enkryption

Reggie, belly full of his apparent 'last supper', leaned back against his seat and sighed. He looked to Rider, who gazed back at him despite the blindfold. A second passes.....and both nod to each other.

"Well, if there is nothing more to be said, we'll take our leave and prepare for our mission. Thanks for the food, Da Vinci. Tasted just like home.", Reggie said as he rose from his seat to leave, his Servant doing the same. Before the duo walked out the door, however, the young man gave one final comment to his boss. "Oh, by the way, Director? Da Vinci is right: Your social skills are absolute trash. An angsty preteen would give better motivation and reassurance than you. For your sake and..... practically everyone else's, please work on that."

---

"Well, Medusa....talk to me. How's our shot lookin'?", the young man asked as the lone pair walked the halls.

"....Honestly, it's 50/50.", the youngest Gorgon replied, airing her two cents. "On the Servant side, it's actually pretty solid. Archer, Saber and Caster bring some much-needed maturity and focus to alleviate Lancer and Berserker's battle thirst and aggressiveness. Assassin, however..... I can't get a read on her, but something tells me that we shouldn't completely trust her. She has the look of one who hides much behind a kindly mask."

"You got vibe from her too, huh? We are definitely on the same page when it comes to her. Well, when it comes to the Masters, it's very much a coin toss. Though she may be a tad meat headed, I feel we can trust Cassandra. Chabi as well, even if Saber has to make sure that girl's head ain't up in the clouds too often. Cordelia and Michel..... those two worry me. They don't seem to have much courage and faith in themselves to see the mission through. Doesn't help that their paired with battle hungry Servants. We may need to keep an eye on them. Katerina..... I'm gonna be honest, I think she might bow out of this one. This situation is way too big and dangerous for a kid like her. I'd rather have an older Master as her replacement. Lastly, there's Penni. Much like Assassin, I can't get a read on her, as well. She seems alright, but has the aura of someone who is.... tweaked. And when I say tweaked, I mean someone who might snap at a random moment's notice.

"All in all.....our team is a shot in the dark....", Reggie said with a chuckle before his face became somber and serious. "....and we better hit our mark."

Medusa hummed and gave a silent nod in agreement as the duo made their way to Reggie's prepare themselves for the First Singularity in the coming hour. This was it. The first sign of the coming calamity, as foretold by Bastion's vision. A calamity that Chaldea must prevent.

For if they fail, Bastion will intervene. And if he intervenes..... then Humanity is well and truly finished.

The meeting ended.

Team Theta has one hour to prepare for departure.

Cassandra and Archer were all packed up and ready to go, conditioning their body with a last-minute warmup at the Chaldean gym. Well Cassandra did anyways.

The tomboyish master was determined and focused on the mission as she repeatedly beats a punching bag filled with sand with her martial arts, reinforcing her fist and legs with her fortification magic.

Each strike was precise and filled with intensity. Loud thuds echo throughout the room with each force of her knuckles and shin hitting the leathered sack.

"Seriously? you'll deplete your mana before we even start our mission" Archer said anxiously, adjusting his magical crossbow tape around his right arm, watching his master work up a sweat.

"On the contrary, Archer. this makes me all fired up! gotta keep in tip-top shape after seeing those nice and crazy people at the diner table being part of a team that saves the world. A soldier must keep them safe from threats after all." Cassandra said in between breaths while continuously throwing her hands and legs at the punching bag, not stopping to condition herself.

"Right, I almost forgot, you have a background in the military. I doubt this well-rounded squadron if that's what you're expecting. I mean Penni just blatantly announces that she's evil. doesn't that strike you as a red flag?" The green archer asked.

"Nah, she's cool, a bit puny and pale. but cool." Cassandra said with a simple answer.

With all of her circuits firing through her arms to her fist, The muscled-toned girl unleashes a devastating punch that sends the leather bag flying across the room.

"Yosh! let's go save the world, Archer."

The druid thief was speechless, scared, and yet satisfied with his master's unyielding determination and can't help but smirk in response.

"Oh, by the way, Director? Da Vinci is right: Your social skills are absolute trash. An angsty preteen would give better motivation and reassurance than you. For your sake and..... practically everyone else's, please work on that."

“You talk an awful lot of shit for someone whose hands are free of blood and death,” Ritsuka says. “I’m not here to motivate you, like some two-bit shrink at some cushy, Ivy League Mage Academy,” she says, “I’m not here, to reassure you that it’s all going to be okay, and hold you hands, like your Mommy when your scared.” Ritsuka narrowed her eyes, “I’m here, because your last Director was a self-assured, ignorant fool and now, she’s a puddle of blood in a Coffin, and I was next in line. Because, unlike you, Reginald, I didn’t choose this position - I was forced into it.”


Ritsuka leveled her gaze. “You want some motivation? You want a little reassurance? Don’t fucking die, then. And, remember this, Reginald: You’re eighth in line. Seven Riders came before yours, and they are all dead. 48 Masters died. 48 Servants dethroned. 96 Lives ended, so you can talk shit to me,” she says. “So, for your sake, and practically everyone else’s, please, keep this in mind: You will never understand the stress I’m under. So bear with me..”

“...awkward...” Penni frowned.

Da Vinci melted back under the table with a dramatic groan. This was going to be hell...

EDIT:

“More helpful words from the peanut gallery...” Ritsuka says, trying her eyes on Da Vinci and Penni.

“Helpful? No. I’ve only been alive for, maybe, three, four hours,” Penni says. “But, context does matter, you know,” she says, “After all, you never said they all died this morning.”

Ritsuka grit her teeth, and curled her fist into balls so tight her knuckles were paling. Hadn’t she? Had she not stressed that? No. No, she hadn’t. She was trying to be cordial, professional, yet serious and direct, but indirect - she didn’t want... what...? Them to worry? To be scared? To lose hope?

...or was that what she wanted for herself?

...to not worry?

...to not be scared?

...to have hope?

Did she just want that for herself?

“It’s a hell of a thing, dying,” Penni says. “Clarifies your place on this dusty rock. Brightens colours that dulled with age. Really shows you the fallibility of the Human condition,” she stood up, “In the end, we’re all bit actors, playing a role. Enter stage left. Exit stage right. I’ll be at my Coffin. Come, Mary...”

“It was just this morning... it’s only been -- ”

“Ten hours. Twenty minutes. Forty-seven seconds,” Da Vinci says, “And, not once have you stopped to grieve. To cry. To even... accept,” she says, “Olga Marie is dead. You saw her Coffin. All of them. You need to accept that you have to step up. She isn’t going to walk through that door, and hold your hand.”

Ritsuka looked at Da Vinci, but the Servant didn’t balk. “Those eyes don’t scare me. Not even they, themselves, are brimming with fear. Take a nap, Ritsuka. I’ll handle the Rayshift. You can oversee, when you awaken.” Ritsuka lifted her fists from the table, and dropped her shoulders. “Go.”

“Fou, c’mon. We’re taking a nap,” Ritsuka says.

“About time. I’m tired,” Fou says, abandoning the rest of her cake, and skipping over.

Silently, the two would leave. Sighing, Da Vinci looked back to the remaining. “Thank you for coming. Please, go rest as well. A text will come to you with the code to your Coffin and the elevator code to reach them. Don’t be late,” she finalized the text to everyone, and sent it. “The fate of Humanity depends on it.”