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Student, RPer, videogame and anime fan, movie guy. Also memist, but that's par the course. In other words, your garden-variety nerd. Not much else to say, really.

Yeah, I'm a rather bogstandard individual, sue me.

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Saber

District XII




He had remained astralized up until this point as a matter of course. It was only logical to do so from a logistics standpoint and a strategic one.

His Master might've had power to throw around, but this was the more expedient way to manage resources. Nobody could accuse Saber of being wasteful.

And the less he could be "seen", the less likely it would be for information to spread regardless before the time was right. Nobody could accuse Saber of being reckless.

Though it seemed like that state of affairs would change sooner rather than later.. His Master's input only further confirmed what he already knew, and his mind raced with possibilities that he discarded as quickly as he conjured up.

Guesswork without basis was worthless. All he had to do right now was obey, scout and finally see what they were up against for this Ritual.

All he had to do was play his part.

'Just leave it to me, Master. You summoned the first rated Servant, after all!'

The reply, filled with easy confidence and youthful enthusiasm, came to him as second nature as he separated himself from his Master, trusting the magus to know what he was doing just as the man trusted Saber to apply his own judgement.

Without delay, he snuck away and separated himself from his Master and the few people yet remaining in order to minimize risks. Once he was satisfied, he let his form take shape around his core.

...The looks of a young man were suitable, as was the clothing he had gained in this era. Truth be told, it wouldn't be the first or second, or even third thing one would associate with his particular tale, but if nothing else it must have fit with what those of "today" thought -- about his person, his story and his role.

Personally, he thought it could have done with a little less black, but well, beggars can't be choosers.

But if he started critiquing trends, then he only stood to waste the entire night away. In the end, it was not his business. He would do better to simply accept and move on, to find whoever was to be his opponent tonight. And after that? Well, the question would answer itself when it happened.

Going in blind was an irritating risk, but he supposed it couldn't be helped given the situation. He would just have to adapt.


Here it is. I think the faceclaim makes me a bad person, but y'know how it goes.

Interested in applying a Seiba I've had in the works for a while!
SIGMUND
Spring Valley Community Park



His own counter collided properly. The idiot had started shifting before it had even begun, like some sort of prescience, so he had missed a full-force counterpunch — but with his strength, Archer should have still felt it and his head should still be ringing.

For that, he was willing to pay the price of a hit. Sacrificing your body was only a natural thing to do if it propelled you to victory in the first place — the Völsungs had ascribed to that kind of philosophy.

Not to mention, more than anyone else, so long as it was a straight fistfight, Berserker was confident in his body’s capabilities.

His eyes flicked upward, and his other fist came to meet Lancer’s foot, taking his attention away from Archer for a moment. That small bit of negligence was all the bowman required.

The next heartbeat, Berserker was already...sailing through the air?

His gaze flickered back to Archer, his brow creasing.

Was he retarded? Probably.

But he’d have still thought that even a moron would understand that a pinned enemy was better than a thrown one. As it was, Berserker could—

Ah, wait. His gaze shifted slightly, to the side. Hm, so that is what Archer wanted — just throw him on the path of another attack. It was not fast or strong — not by the standards of a Servant, and certainly not by Berserker’s — but it carried something else.

How irritating. Still, it provided an opportunity, and revealed something else to him, as well as allowed him to do something else.

This made it three on one.

Yeah, if it was three on one, then it was worth doing.

His hand rose into the air, and when he swung down, he was holding something. The projectile, whatever it was now, was rent, torn asunder — split in twain almost contemptuously easily.

The lightshow fizzled out and died, Berserker landed safely — and, in his hand, was a sword.

It was a beautiful sword, though simple in its make.

It was a terrifying sword, though unassuming in its form.

There was no doubt that this was Berserker’s vaunted treasure as a Heroic Spirit, the proof of the legend he had left behind. There was no doubt that this was a Noble Phantasm.

There had been no time to call out its True Name, but that was fine — in the first place, what sort of magecraft would require a Noble Phantasm’s release to contend against? Certainly nothing that could be found in this wretched day and age.

The sword was simply greater, so it cut through. That was all there was to it.

Berserker hefted the thing and let it rest on his shoulder, before looking around.

Archer and Lancer were still there. His mind worked overtime.

And he started to laugh.

“Ah, that was a good one,” He said. “Alright, I think I got what I wanted out of the night.”

He had fought them enough. He hadn’t seen their weapons, but judging everything from approach to countenance was good enough for his purposes.

So without pause or decorum — he turned on his heel and started walking away.

“Laters,” He waved carelessly. “I gotta scout out the others, after all. I wanna see if I can’t get into fights with everyone tonight.”

Then, he looked over his shoulder.

“Of course, if you wanna follow, feel free to. But from this point on, I’ll be using this thing, so only do that if you’re ready for us to start killing each other already.

“Speaking of which, I’ll be marking you down as fun ones — so do try not to die to anyone that isn’t me.”


Without waiting for further answers, Berserker left, already moving on to the next one. Restlessness sated, he wondered, which district to go for next?

Of course, there was the possibility that one or both of them would try to pursue. But that just meant he’d have to accelerate things and show he meant what he said.

...Still, wasn't this kind of anticlimactic?

@Yukitamas @Seirei no hai
Sigmund
Spring Valley Community Park



Ants coming together to defeat a greater foe. That much was understandable — even expected, to a degree.

The truth of the matter, however, was that at this point, Berserker only cared to crush one of them in earnest, having all but forgotten the other.

The main goal right now, with his vision tunneling on Archer, was simply to grind his face to dust.

Let him bob and weave all he liked. Truth be told, that suited him just fine. Using Archer’s pushing against his arm for himself, he allowed the limb to move in an almost sweeping motion as if to ward-off the other small-fry that wanted to jump him while he was busy, or at least impede the full extent of the assault. Then—

Berserker’s mind raced.

That’s right, not only had he been a great warrior in life, but the instincts of the beast that he had attained had melded together with his battle experience and skills in order to forge something new.

So long as it only concerned “slaying the enemy”, he would not lose out to anyone. He refused to lose out to anyone. Archer's speed did not surpass his, neither did the other's. And he was confident that he possessed the highest "specs" in the other areas.

With his instincts and his skill, that was plenty.

Berserker’s second fist, already clenched, descended upon the enemy like a hammer, curving over Archer’s arm from the outside as it came upward from his jab and following a clear path toward the red-haired man’s head.

Rather than try to match the footwork, Berserker simply desired to blow his head off by using Archer’s own movements against him. Given that the bowman was moving to the side and upward, that meant a direct collision path with Berserker’s fist was clear.

Whether Archer’s jab hit was inconsequential. Or rather, to Berserker, the jab was a small price to pay in the larger picture.

To begin with, putting your own body, your own life, on the line was what it meant to “fight”.

@Yukitamas @Seirei no hai
Sigmund
Spring Valley Community Park



Ah good, they seemed to have taken his unspoken warning to equal. That was good, that’d be certain to help out.

Then Archer spoke. And the vestiges of good mood left Berserker.

“...Hah?”

The insufferable smirk had yet to leave his face, even as Archer rushed against him, but there was a slight difference in the air about him. The show of strength had not appeared to concern him, so it had to be a different factor.

They were doubtlessly Heroic Spirits of at least some quality. That much was certain just from the exchange Berserker had observed before interrupting, and only further reinforced by their manner of dealing with his “greeting” as it were.

That much was certain to present him with the chances for some fun.

This was certainly what he had wanted out of the night but—

“Hey, you got a pretty big mouth on you.”

He just had to talk.

He just had to open his mouth. He just had to come at him looking all confident-like. He just had to say that one thing.

His temper flared. Rather than try to dodge or take the hit, he instead reared his arm back and snarled.

“Don’t get fuckin’ cocky with me when I didn’t even put my back into it—!”

He threw his own punch. One to match Archer’s. One to overwhelm him.

Berserker’s pride was not unfounded. In terms of physical might, the amount of heroes that would be able to match him was very small thanks to the nature of the wolfskin, even setting aside his own skills as a warrior.

Yet Archer had the gall to look and throw himself against him with no hesitation. There was no doubt in that gaze of his. He truly seemed to believe that — regardless of how strong Berserker might be — he would prevail in the end.

He had the gall to look at him fearlessly.

“Those eyes of yours fucking piss me off! They’ll be the first thing I rip from your face!”

@Yukitamas @Seirei no hai
Sigmund
The Strip —> Spring Valley Community Park




He was scowling again.

Sullenly glancing about at the torn-up street and the clearly shaken-up people, he could tell that he had missed the fun by the tiniest of margins.

It was supremely annoying. But, by itself, nothing he couldn’t deal with.

His legend had not been carved out as that of a hunter among hunters, but the years in the wilderness and the wolf had done something for him in that respect. He moved through the streets, picking up the pace.

On an intellectual level, he understood the idea that they must’ve preferred a more secluded setting to battle, considering the amount of witnesses.

But he just didn’t care. Annoyance kept building up and up. He snarled.

Something made of bone — looking almost like a second jaw — was starting to form on the side of his face.

Closer, closer, just a bit more.

—There.

He stopped in the middle of the street, looking at the figures in the distance, in the middle of the park. His lips twisted into a smile, showing far too many teeth. He started moving, dragging a hand across the hood of a parked vehicle and tearing the metal.

Then, he paused, looked at it for a second and considered.

Well.

Wasn’t it common knowledge in this era that, to avoid vandalism, you should leave your car in a garage?



There was not really much flair to what occurred next, nor was it meant to be a sneak attack of any sort. In fact, he was confident that both of the currently battling Servants would be able to react.

Without pretense or hidden intentions, Berserker announced his presence by throwing a roughly 1500kg hunk of steel toward the two. Whether it hit them in the middle of their clash or flew between both of them after they had built some distance didn’t concern him. He hadn’t thrown with the intent to “hit” in the first place.

This was just his way of extending greetings.

He walked forward, a smile firmly set in place and knuckles cracking.

“Yo,” He called out. “I don’t suppose you lot have room for one more?”

Despite what he had said, it was obvious to anyone that cared to look for it that he had no intention of simply sitting down and waiting for his turn.

...Well, this kind of behavior was, to an extent, expected of his class.

“I’ve been wanting to work out the kinks ever since I got called here you see, and I’ve been very annoyed about having to walk all over the city.”

Muscles coiled, he looked ready to spring into the attack. But it seemed that, for whatever reason — perhaps a sense of sportsmanship — he was letting his quarries have the first move.

...But

There was absolutely no doubt about it.

If they did not take that offer, then he would simply seek to overwhelm them in the following instant.

@Yukitamas @Seirei no hai
SIGMUND
Centennial —> The Strip




Oh? She was following? Instead of staying still and hiding away at their base, she was actually falling in line behind him?

Well, it looked like being bound to a human might actually suck less than he’d expected. Just for that, he reevaluated his opinion and bumped her just that teeny bit higher on his mental checklist.

Ain’t he benevolent?

She even appeared to be receptive regarding his wisdom! This was a better start than he’d expected, really. Still…

“You hear the words but you don’t get ‘em,” He was blunt in his assessment, brow furrowed. But then he shrugged and turned his gaze forward, dismissive. “Well, doesn’t really matter. I ain’t gonna hold your hand when it comes to living your life.”

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Berserker simply picked up the pace, eyes scanning people as second nature.

Trash, trash, trash. Boring, boring, boring.

Man, how long did it take to run into something fun in the modern world?

His scowl became more and more pronounced the more time that passed — and of course, that resulted in more people steering away from him.

He scoffed. Of course, it was full of weaklings too. What, can’t even handle a bad look? Then again, considering how Berserker took challenges, it might be for the best that he didn’t run into anyone headstrong enough to actually play chicken with him.

Unfortunately, he could still feel frustration.

Doubly unfortunately, a frustrated Berserker was still a dangerous Berserker regardless.

But then—

He looked off to the side, slightly upward, and cocked his head slightly at the bent-out-of-shape replica of the Eiffel Tower.

“...That ain’t how it’s meant to look, I take it?”

Well, his frown had certainly been turned upside down surprisingly quickly with just one event. Without missing a beat, he started walking in that direction.

“Hey, girl, tell me if those things in the back of your hand start hurtin’ or something. That means another set’s nearby.”

His hands finally left his pockets, if only so he could start cracking his knuckles. Of course, there was always the possibility that it had been an honest accident, but he wanted to trust his gut on this one.

“Alright then, let’s kick things off strong!”

@GreenGoat
SIGMUND
Centennial, Centennial Hills Hospital Rooftop




Footsteps echoed from behind the girl.

“They are strong tools,” The Servant called out. “But they are also only as good as whatever uses that little head of yours can devise for them.”

Berserker did not particularly dress the way an ancient hero would, perhaps due to his own preferences, but his scarred body must have seen many battles, and the sword at his side only reaffirmed such. But nothing quite compared to the presence he carried with him, that enveloped him like a well-worn cloak and was by itself proof of fact that he was inhuman.

He looked at the girl who had summoned him, and his bright eyes might as well have been those of a beast eyeing prey.

This was no average delinquent.

No, this man was clearly a super delinquent.

Stepping a bit closer, he ran a hand through his hair, glanced down at the city below and grinned — almost hungrily. His smile showed too many teeth.

“And of course, if you use them for the wrong thing, why, they might just get you slaughtered instead.”

The casual tone he’d used made it sound less like a threat, more like he was just stating an accepted fact. Of course, he left out who’d do the slaughtering if she messed up in that department, but honestly, there was no point in stating the obvious. He hoped the little girl would see that much.

“Speaking of slaughtering,” He bounced to a different topic concerningly quickly. “We should get right on with that. The Grail ain’t gonna fill itself and all that junk.”

Stepping to the edge of the rooftop, he kept his winning smile on his face, not even sparing a glance toward his Master.

“At least I’ll try to cross swords with most I can — see who’s a fun one and who isn’t. Intel gathering, you see? Aren’t I just great, taking the initiative on the job like this?”

Well, the way he’d worded it, it sounded less like work, more like he just wished to indulge. Then again, so what if he did? Results would be the same. Having fun while getting them just meant his mood wouldn’t worsen.

“I’ll be moving, you can follow in the hopes of some fun or you can stay here — or do whatever you want really. Ah, but—” He snapped his fingers, then directed his gaze and his smile back toward his Master. “Come to think of it, you dying would throw a wrench in the plans, so do make sure to avoid that, alright? Even if it means using one of those annoying things.

“If you die without my permission, I’ll kill you.”


How did that one work, again? Eh, not his problem. Perhaps that guy would’ve acted more compassionate.

...But Berserker was not that man anymore. He couldn’t be that man anymore. The pride and chivalry of a knight were lost on him. After all, he had maintained his rationality, but the wolf had simply eaten away at different things, even if what he wanted had stayed largely the same.

And this time, that situation would only end with his death.

Still, as he jumped off the roof and started making his way downtown, simply wandering in the hopes of finding a good fight, his smile did not diminish one bit.

“There’s kind of a simple joy in just being like this, you know? In just throwing away everything unnecessary. You should give it a try, Master, you might come to enjoy it.”

He just hoped he didn’t run into annoying insects while looking for interesting things. Those always spoiled the fun.

@GreenGoat
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