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    1. ManyThings 8 yrs ago
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21 days ago
Current You almost got the cheese touch....
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2 yrs ago
My Discord's stolen don't message me there :<
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5 yrs ago
There are stupid questions, but if you pretend you were just joking you should be okay.
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5 yrs ago
The best business pitch is to throw the business ball past the business batter to the business catcher.
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5 yrs ago
I sometimes hear about someone having skeletons in their closet. Ok? How do you know they're still in there? You can't just assume a skeleton is gonna stay still. This is your house, not a graveyard.
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Riverside Workshop, Southern Moor




"Thank you. This is probably the last real moment of rest I'll have for a while, so I appreciate it." Making sure the door was shut behind her, Fiore sighed, taking a seat and tilting her head at the tea set. Even though Caster was working alone here, he had..? "Ah, it seems like you have plenty of useful attributes."

Adding a bit of sugar, the magus took a cup. The ability to calculate the future was something that could be crucially useful in its own way. "Even if I had summoned some legend like Achilles, there's nothing he would be able to do except go head-to-head with the enemy. The direct approach won't always work, especially against monsters like the Three Families of Fuyuki."

The tea was good... Of the various leaves brought from Trifas, he had even calculated which brand she most liked to drink on days preceding stressful undertakings. Yeah, this was a Servant she could work well with, even if he was a little odd at times. Of course, if his mind was that sharp... "Can you tell I'm trying to praise you?" Fiore let out a quiet, awkward laugh, and tried to smile. "Sorry. It's because next I'm going to start working you as hard as possible. That 'Enchant' ability of yours is only as strong as the man-hours you put into it, right?"

Resting her feet but not her mind had definitely been the best way to put it. Since the moment she had confirmed Carroll possessed the same sort of ability that Shakespeare was known for winning subspecies wars with, her mind had been at work trying to figure out the best way to apply it. While over half the shelves in the room were filled with literature of Caster's choice, two short cabinets near the window had been filled by Fiore personally--and every book inside was completely blank. An author needed somewhere to write, after all.

"I have to focus on my own craft, so I can't hold your hand through this part. The items in question will be sent up here individually." Fiore was the sort of person who often came off as inexperienced and overly kind, but if Caster was so good at calculating, he damn well better have been able to calculate that she wasn't about to let him slack off.




Miyama Town




There was really no time for slacking off, apparently.

It would have been pleasant to walk through Japanese streets on his own two feet again after nearly 200 years, but Lancer wasn't in material form. He followed his Master as the wind, passing through buildings and cars, focusing primarily on detecting the presence of any nearby Servants while giving a half-thought to the mage's mutterings about Japanese culture.

His Master was obviously prepared to fight in the Grail War itself, but Lancer couldn't help but feel that he wasn't particularly ready to operate in this country. "We like them because they kill bugs and ward away sickness. If people knew there were mages peeping through the little critters' eyes, they might think twice." It must have truly appeared to any outsider that the foreigner was talking to himself, because Raiden's voice was only audible inside his Master's own mind. He was still unsure exactly what sort of man he was dealing with, so he actually put a bit of energy into explaining this. "Finding a gecko in your home's a sign of good fortune, and you should never ever kill one or drive it away. If you don't know stuff like that, Master, then I should be doing the shopping in your stead!"

The Lancer's invisible presence followed Berzinsky as he moved away from the small businesses and into the housing section of Miyama town. Even in the hour since they had first started pet-shopping, the energy of the city had changed and grown stronger. Most of them weren't close enough to be fully made out, but more Masters had definitely summoned their Servants during that time. The tournament would be starting soon.

"...We have a lot of matches ahead of us."

He wasn't exactly groaning. Judging by his tone, Raiden was looking forward to them.

"Before the evening rush starts, tell me something, boss." He continued, not sure if this was some kind of sore spot for the man. "Why lizards? No matter how you look at it, you're even more into them than we are."

Some people just had their weird obsessions, right?

Riverside Workshop, Southern Moor




This was right around the time they would have done it, if things had been different. Fiore would be in Trifas, with her brother and the rest of their clan. That night, they would've summoned their heroes and made a miracle happen. It would've been scary, turning her back on everyone at the Clock Tower, but she would've been surrounded by people she had faith in. This was much worse. This was all wrong. The people she had been standing beside were gone--either dead or under house arrest for the crime of conspiracy against the Mage's Association.

The true crime would be not finishing what they had started.

Instead of Trifas, she was in Fuyuki, hiding in a vacant building that overlooked the river Mion from its East bank. It wasn't dilapidated, but even after setting up a workshop in the basement, the whole place felt pointedly alien to her. Not home-like in the slightest. Still, it was a well-balanced location that served her nature as a magus about as well as any Eastern land could, while also meeting her other requirements. That, of course, included a Study where her Servant could do his work.

It had been a gamble, summoning someone like this. His page on the Wiki was so small that Fiore wasn't certain if he had ever actually been summoned before or if it was just one of those filler pages with a smattering of speculation. The fact that it was so unclear was just another example of how unusable the Wiki was, but everyone who had made it to this point was hopefully past the point of needing to use something like that. When it came to "Author" Heroic Spirits like Shakespeare and Dickens, they had the major advantage of being relatively young and therefore easier to obtain a catalyst for. Even if that auction for Cúchulainn's right boot was legitimate, word would've travelled quickly if she had gotten involved. Staying beneath the Three Founders' radar for the moment was key. As for why she had chosen this man in particular...

It had been a hunch about what sort of abilities he would have, and in Fiore's eyes, it had paid off. He wasn't strong in the way that a warrior like Beowulf, or even a witch like Circe was strong, but with him by her side, she could win. He could get her across the finish line.

A hand that wasn't trembling in the slightest rested on the knob, then pushed open the door to the study.

"Caster--!"

Actually, there was a hand pulling on that door from the other side as well. Fiore stepped back with a start, but it was too late. The surprise and the extra force applied to the door had been enough to send the being on the other side falling flat on its behind.

"Ah..."



Stunned into silence for just long enough that it began to feel awkward, Fiore collected herself as quickly as she could and extended a hand. The homunculus was already halfway to his feet at that point, so what followed couldn't properly be described as helping him up, per se, but he took it nonetheless.

"Sorry, Goro. I'm just here to see Caster. You can go." She did her best to make eye contact with him while she spoke. It was hard, knowing what he was and what would have to happen to him, but she couldn't be a coward. Not anymore.

She imagined the homunculus had been sent by her Servant to fetch something or other, as he had been assigned to be the Caster's attendant, but since he hadn't been prompted to explain what he was up to, he just bowed and left the room without another word. As soon as he moved down the hallway, the homunculus standing guard--Either Gordon or Gordius. Fiore couldn't really tell those two apart--Left his post and trailed behind. They both walked with the same steady, balanced gait.

At least they don't have much in the way of personality, she thought to herself, hopefully.

Fiore took a deep breath, looking her Caster up and down. His Parameters were... Certainly telling of the function he was meant to serve. She had provided this study, and given him leave to furnish it with anything that could be reasonably obtained. Every artist had different things that would inspire them to work, after all. "Are you settling in all right, Caster? Tonight will be the start of everything, meaning this place could be attacked at any moment... And, well, I'm not strong enough to protect you yet."

She half-smiled, wondering if it would really come to that.

No, if things went to plan, that was definitely how their war would end.

As long as her legs still worked, she would keep moving forwards.
@Undyingregret as far as I know, yeah. Hop into the Discord if you can!


I saw Zouken vent

Berserker of Black

@Letter Bee@GreenGoat

Thusfar, Nennius had done nothing in the war except stand at his Master's side. The boy seemed agreeable enough, although he was clearly the furthest thing from the leader of this group, and not particularly powerful. For the first time, though, the little guy had given Nennius a new command: he was to stand at the side of Darnic, the mage leading their team. It was a big step, for sure.

Tall, dark, and quiet, he followed along with the situation as best as a mad warrior could be expected to, not saying a word of his own accord. After all, formulating his minimal thoughts into minimal sentences was effort enough when he actually had an interest in or understanding of the situation.

For his part, Nennius didn't seem to react or ready himself at all when Darnic raised his hand. After all, he was a shield, and what else was a shield for? If somebody attacked the guy he was standing beside, they would get themselves killed. He understood how that worked without needing anyone to explain it in detail.

Besides, it sounded like his Master had a shot at getting married, here! Never hurts to be a wingman.

A Committee to Greet You

@Yukitamas@HiddenBlue

It had certainly been a rough night for the Purple Faction. They had suffered damage, defeats, and losses, and now another one of their enemies was making a show of confidence, calling out for them to mount a defence or be annihilated. It was extraordinary to see things get so heated on the first night of a Holy Grail War, but this was not a story of the ordinary. One had to roll with the punches.

...Still, wasn't there any chance to just put this off and deal with it some other time?

Scarcely a minute after Yamadiya sent up the flare, someone appeared in the glare of the car's headlights. Several someones, in fact. A welcoming party. And boy, did they ever look like a bunch of punks. The Philosopher Kings truly did have all kinds.

Four of them were directly in the road, all crouched or slouching, except for one who held himself off the ground in a cross-legged position, supported by his palms, while his other pair of arms were crossed at his chest. There were at least a half-dozen more scattered on the roadside, leaning against trees or sitting on branches, and they all seemed to be shirtless or in buttoned-down dress clothes. Perhaps someone in the car could tell, or perhaps they couldn't, but these people were Mixed-Bloods of the Oni Kind.

"Hooold it!" The man at the centre of the road called out, raising two of his four arms. The other two, which were supporting his weight off the ground, appeared to be coloured with a slightly different skin tone--most likely taken from another through some savage technique. "Clearly, you know where you are. You know who we are. But listen: there's no need for violence between us on this night. If you turn back and retreat to your Faction's base, we won't pursue you!"

...Judging by the expressions of the other Mixed-Bloods, they didn't think there was much chance of this offer being accepted. In fact, they may have been more interested in fighting. Bloodlust was in the air.

And on top of that, it was impossible that Yamadiya or Jason would fail to detect that there was a Servant nearby, not too much further up the road. They weren't visible from here, but they didn't seem worried about hiding their presence, either.

"Our Factions may be at war, but we can postpone the conflict a little, no? It seems that both your group and the Red Faction consider us to be the first target for destruction, but aren't you hoping that the Reds'll be more exhausted than you by the time we've been butchered? Retreat now, and if they ask, you can even tell them that you made an advance into our territory! What do you say?"

It certainly seemed like everyone here was more than ready for the offer to be turned down.

And if Jason jumped the gun on the whole monologue and just ploughed into the diplomat with his car? Well, they were ready for that, too.

Brutality Night

@SSW[@Yukitamas Again]

The Black Faction's Lancer and Assassin had certainly made a mess of the terrain after their opponents had jettisoned them. Quite a racket, too. As the two of them planned to continue their march on the enemy, the forces of Purple were well aware of where they had landed.

Unlike with that other group, it was already clear how powerful and aggressive Lancer and Assassin were. There was no need to send a probing force, and no use in sending someone to warn them away. At this point, the only thing worth doing was beating the pair of them into the dirt.

The one who came for them was huge. A giant over three meters in height, golden eyes and black skin, covered in white markings. Trees were splintered at his approach through the countryside, caring for nothing in his path except the enemies at the end of it. This Heroic Spirit--for he could have been nothing else--was undoubtedly ancient, in both presence and appearance. Adorned in gold, with a massive axe clutched in each hand, and a crown of black horns and emerald flames on his head.

He wasn't raging or hollering, but there could be little doubt that this was the enemy's Berserker.

On top of that, he wasn't alone. There did not seem to be any other Servant in the area, but rustling and scratching in the distance indicated that a group of something was following in this Berserker's wake. Perhaps one of the Black Faction's fighters could catch a glimpse of one or two of them as they wove between fallen trees and standing stones. They were definitely humanoid, but whether they were Dead Apostles, Mixed-Bloods, or some new travesty of nature, their manic grins indicated they probably hadn't been informed about the fate of the Santa Maria's crew.

Berserker's approach was far too noisy for him to have been on top of his enemies in an instant, to say nothing of the footsoldiers reinforcing him, who obviously couldn't keep up with his mad dash. He was still a few leaps and bounds short of reaching Assassin and Lancer by the time they could lay eyes on him, but he wasn't one to waste time. Mid-run, the huge warrior raised an arm, and hurled the axe from his left hand with all of his might.

Just from that display, there was no doubt that this was a Servant in possession of top-class physical power, as one of his weapons tore through the air towards Judah's torso.


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