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"Hercules"
Yo-Yo Party, Commerce District
@ReallyDumb@Crusader Lord@SSW@Reflection

Oh? The Master had accepted in the interests of the Servant. With new eyes, Commodus evaluated that human, evaluated those eyes. Were they the eyes of one who sought his own gain, or the eyes of one who sincerely desired the betterment of another? He could not tell. He could not know. If he tapped into the power of 'him', then perhaps- his guile, his brilliance, they could no doubt see through all manner of deception. And yet, he didn't.

Perhaps it was simple sentimentality, but for this moment, it felt wrong. It felt wrong to use those gifts in this moment, a moment when he spoke not as him, but as Commodus. But, if that were the case...

"I did hear your Master, and yet I received no response from you. We are all born with fate, but it is our choice to accept or deny it. Forcing you to break your fate is every bit as cruel as shackling you to it. Remember, this path we walk, a path of breaking, is an arduous one. If you reach the end, if you escape in full, you may find that your own name has become that of a stranger."

The Faker straightened himself up, towering over the boy king, but there was no sneer or weight that implied superiority. Rather-

"I will take your answer as acceptance in the meantime, however. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Hercules. Do not feel the need to provide your true name, least of all here, where prying eyes and ears lie in wait. If you have prepared a workshop, we may depart for there- elsewise, we may use the residence my Master has prepared."

Stepping at his own Master's side, a single nod was delivered to those he had allied with. In the first place, this could be considered a foolish move, to make an alliance so brazenly, especially when those of the war knew his name. And yet, he did not regret it in the slightest. The people who had seen him today had cheered, and felt joy. The boy he allied with would not have met him had he not done this. All of these acts had led to 'good'.

"The final Servant present here, and those familiars of magi which are watching, an attempt to follow us without revealing yourself and requesting such will be treated as a declaration of war. An attempt to assault us, or to attack the populace here, will similarly be treated as a declaration of war. I trust that you understand the weight this carries. Do not force my hand on this first day- enjoy this world we have been brought into, rejoice in its strange beauty. And when the time comes where we must trade blows, let it be a glorious duel."

Uttering those words, the idol of a fool said his farewell.

The grand yo-yo duel had ended.

For now.
Jack
"Beantown" (Workshop), Shinto Town 
@Cu Chulainn


Jack couldn't help but burst into applause at Mr. Tree's actions. He really was a great partner, the two were already working in sync! His mind was overflowing with ideas for what he could do with the power of Mr. Tree- the bean-related possibilities were endless!

Approaching the now-bloodied bean plants, Jack's eyes lidded shut as he extended a hand out towards them, opening his Magic Circuits and calling upon his magecraft with the same ease as breathing. The beans themselves thrummed lightly, before seeming to absorb the blood that had been splattered onto them, glowing lightly in the moments that followed before returning to simply looking like normal beans. A few seconds passed where Jack was looking at the beans in earnest concentration, before he turned back around to face Mr. Tree.

"■■■■ ■■■■■■■■■■ ■■■■ ■■■■, ■■■■■."

Jack's mouth didn't move, simply smiling impassively at his Servant. No words were said. However, given his existence and his connection to Jack, Remus might feel it. The sensation that 'something was being said', even if he himself couldn't hear the words. After that moment had passed, Jack blinked a couple of times, seeming to realize something before speaking up.

"Oh, sorry about that, forgot to switch back! They said thanks, they really seem to like that!"

Mr. Tree probably couldn't hear the ■■■■■ ■■■■■■, could he? That was sad, but it made sense; even if he was Mr. Tree, he was shaped like a person. It was sad, but oh well! At least Mr. Tree and his friends were getting along. Speaking of-

"Oh, right! So for this war thing, I had some ideas, Mr. Tree!"

And on the two idiots went.


"Hercules"
Yo-Yo Party, Commerce District 
@ReallyDumb@Crusader Lord@Flood@Yankee@SSW@Reflection

A boy had come forwards in the aftermath of his great battle, speaking of All the World's Evils, of Kings of Calamity, of heroes and villains. Roused from his thoughts, he now noticed the presence of other Servants and the reek of magecraft. Others had come to witness the grandeur of Hercules.

Very well, then. It would not do to refuse the show this boy had offered. He would seek out and strike down these Kings of Calamity, a labor of his new life.

...however, before he uttered those words, something changed. The flare of magical energy, the casting of magecraft. His eyes flitted over to the source of the ripple, to a man who had dared to paint over that boy with light and sound. To interfere in a conversation between adversaries? Foolish, yet commendable. However, even that was only a prelude for what came next.

Another boy materialized besides the one who declared himself All the World's Evils. This one was a Servant, one Commodus had been able to see before materialization, and yet one he paid no mind. When the boy materialized in full and was given that moment of credence, though, the expression worn by the emperor tightened.

"You...?"

He looked at the boy, at the Servant saddled by a curse from the moment of his birth, a fate handed down to him due to the sins of his father as ordained by the world. This bears repeating, but Commodus was no magus nor Consecrator. What he was, however, was a person. Like understands like, and so, in this moment, he saw something in that Berserker.

Not knowing his name, not knowing his wish, not knowing that he was cursed, he could feel it. That boy's eyes told him everything he needed to know.

He turned to face the Berserker, momentarily dismissing the rest of the world.

"...one who rebels against the fate that the world forced upon him. A blessing and a curse, one chosen by men and gods before you could speak. Is that the case?"

Gone was the laughter, gone was the absurdity. His words were not screamed. His tone was level, steeped in a weight that was so far distinct from his attitude of moments earlier that one might wonder if he was replaced with an identical doppelganger moments earlier.

"Boy, you who call yourself the embodiment of humanity's evils. You and your Servant, would you care to join me?"

It was not a demand. It was not the edict of an emperor or a god. There was no trace of a threat beneath his words. Whatever the sight of the Berserker had done, in this moment, Commodus was speaking merely as a man.

"The fate that the world shoulders us with, I will crush it with these hands. If your desire is of the same cloth, I would implore you to stand with me."
"Hercules"
Outside a Bank, Commerce District
@ReallyDumb@SSW@Reflection@Crusader Lord@Yankee@Flood

"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.

Eight Lives Yo-Yo Works
Shooting the Eighty-Nine Strings

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.


"You'll have to try harder than that, child."
"Hercules"
Outside a Bank, Commerce District
@ReallyDumb

Yes, it seemed that there was no Colosseum in this land. Tragic, really. He would need to see to fixing that once he had been incarnated. These people had no idea what they were missing out on. What did they have for entertainment? Where did they raise their gladiators? Truly, society had degraded in many ways.

Yet, at the same time, the item in his hand showed him that society had evolved in equally many ways.

Fishing around in his Master's clothes had yielded some useful results. A strange piece of plastic with various numbers on it, the fledgeling bits of information he had been granted by the Holy Grail informed him that this was some form of currency. How interesting, to use something like this as currency. Were such things easy to produce in these days? It seemed so. The modern world was truly an oddity.

The catalyst the boy had evidently used to summon him had been examined. "Hercules Against the Moon Men", it was called, a work from the country his great empire had fallen into. How quaint that such a thing would dredge him from the Throne, yet at the same time, that catalyst alone was not enough. In order to summon him forwards in this form...

"...so that's how you did it, hm?"

For a moment, the bombastic grin splitting Commodus' face broke, replaced by a sort of melancholy. Yes, he was no magus and certainly no Consecrator, but for a person like this, he could see it. It was impossible for him to not see it, after all; it was something that he knew better than anything else in this world. The weight that settled over that human youth, the fate that he was assigned from the moment of birth, it was-

"Ha. We really are a sorry lot, aren't we, boy?"

Words that none but Commodus would hear, before that melancholy was wiped back over with manic excitement.

Yes, that matter had to be left behind. He had plans to work with. He could not simply wait for the boy to wake up. And so, unconscious Tom on his shoulder, the great emperor took to the town. His first stop had been a quaint little place called a 'Costume Emporium', a marketplace which offered the pelts of strange beasts. The shop proprietor must have been mighty to quell this number. Or perhaps they simply purchased them from another? A worthy rival, in any case.

"That'll be seven thousand yen."

For his purchase, Commodus simply handed over the piece of plastic, expectant that the wealth of his Master would be sufficient to acquire this pelt. However, surprise came when, mere moments later, the plastic was returned to him, as well as his purchase.

A renewable currency? Money that you got back as soon as spending it? How excellent! His Master must have prepared this especially for Commodus' own use, how commendable! It would be remiss if he did not make proper use of it, in that case.

A shopping spree ensued, but this was a mere prelude. Preparations had to be made for later in the war, after all. This was the basic doctrine of warfare. Prepare, then eradicate the enemy. He had yet to locate the enemy, so he was stuck in the former stage.

But, there was an often-unknown middle stage. To raise the morale of one's people, to be an inspiration that they could live in pursuit of. A dazzling star above the Earth, a "hero".

"Yes, behold, people of Fuyuki! I, the great Hercules, have returned to the world!"

And that was precisely why he was currently outside of an esteemed investment bank, laying beneath a very nice Mercedes S-class which he was pressing up with one hand, while his other hand kept the unconscious boy at his side. He was currently doing his third set, after which he would pivot to working another muscle group. The populace was, of course, amazed with this feat of strength, as expected of Hercules.

A crowd was forming. Excellent, excellent.

Soon, the yo-yo trick.
"Hercules"
Newly-Unquiet Basement, Western Farms @ReallyDumb


He soaked in the applause, swapping poses every couple of seconds as he took in the adoration of his Master. Or, at least, he supposed the boy was his Master? He never actually clarified that one. Oh well. 

...the applause had stopped. Had the boy gotten tired? It was only natural, he supposed. The excitement of seeing one as great as himself would be a tremendous strain on any mortal body. Ah well. He'd probably wake up eventually. Probably. 

"...magecraft?"

Oh, this boy was a mage of some sort, given the reek that hung over this basement. Or maybe that was mold. 

...yeah, it was definitely mold.

Well, regardless, he was a hero. He was Hercules. He had no plans to stay cooped up in a basement that reeked of magecraft and mold while he waited for his adoring fan to wake up from his nap. How was that heroic?! A hero was one who stood front and center before the masses, dazzling them with displays of might and valor! What sort of hero lived in a basement?!

...sadly, this city was no Rome Commodusland. He could feel it, even without being present. Or maybe it was just an educated guess. Regardless of the method, he doubted this land had a Colosseum, and so he would simply have to make do. Without an arena to showcase their heroics, what did heroes do? 

...well, kill monsters, but there were no monsters around right now. Probably. Maybe.

So, instead, there was only one option! Dazzle the populace on his own terms!

Lifting the unconscious boy up and tossing him over his shoulder, Commodus' steps thundered beneath him as he exited the basement and departed towards the city.

Time to announce to the people that the great Hercules had returned.

"Hercules"
Newly-Unquiet Basement, Western Farms
@ReallyDumb

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

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

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

-A piece of a star fell to earth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...I see."

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

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

"Ahaha! You are in luck, boy!"

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

"For you have already found victory!"

Another pose change.

"As you have summoned-"

Another.

"The one and only-"

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

"Hercules!"

Aaaaand pose for applause.


Jack
"Beantown" (Workshop), Shinto Town
@Cu Chulainn

"Here you go, Mr. Tree!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their partnership was off to a great start.


A question regarding Faker. Should I stick to keeping the sheet private on account of how the class works, or is it okay if I make it public? I imagine there's not an issue with me making it public, and would prefer to do that since the specific character is...well, kind of very unfairly unbalanced unless the other players know his sheet.
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