ReallyDumb

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Fox
Meeting, Hot Springs

A fox was standing at the entrance of the hot springs. Why was a fox standing there?

Even the fox had no real understanding of why it was here. It had been told to come here, adn that the master would do the rest, but it personally had no knowledge of the meeting taking place here.

Yawning, it took a step closer, and revealed what it was to the rest of the people there. It was no true fox- it’s appearance was too blurred, too smooth to be real. The odd coloring only lended credence to it’s existence as a being unlike what one would normally see or find in the wild. It’s mouth opened, and a woman’s voice came out.

“Greetings, one and all. I apologize for being unable to attend the meeting in person, but certain matters held me up. As such, I have sent this familiar here in my stead. Thank you for the invitation to this meeting. I hope this shall be productive.”

The fox gave a yip, and walked to where the rest of the gathered participants were. Kosara’s nature probably resulted in her being the last to arrive. If any other were to arrive after her, she would most certainly be surprised.

Jack
The Bar, Shinto

...there was nothing in this bar to distract him. A small blessing for his pained self, and also a crushing curse.

He picked up his glass with his forearms, and drank it dry. Adapt. Improvise. Overcome. Tenants he had held to his life as a thief to defeat any security, to secure any loot.

Look at him now. Having to work to drink beer.

The quiet man behind the bar had not bothered him when he had stumbled in here drunk. He did not acknowledge his existence either.

Of course he would not. Jack the Thief was nothing. Jack the Knight was a failure. Jack the Hero knew nothing of victory, only ashes of defeat.

A part of him, the Knight, cried out. He was not without merit, it said. He ignored it. Worthless merit. Merit without effort. Nothing.

The beer was bitter.

Good, Jack thought.

The taste of losing his spoils was far more bitter.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Western Farm

@Argonaut@Reflection@Scallop

There was only one direction a thief should expect an attack from. A fleeing thief shows only one side of himself to his foe, his back. A strike from behind is a cowardly act, but in the case of chasing a thief, it is the only direction a pursuer can strike from. Thus, to expect and be able to fend off attacks from the rear is something of a specialty for those who are skilled in running away- a running retreat is only successful if you can live and retreat.

A blow was coming.

A blow was coming, and Jack knew he could not avoid it.

He turned to defend, the miracle still activating. A defensive guard, properly put up and defending himself from immediate death.

Not Enough.

The blade wielded by the Paladin slammed into Jack’s guard, demolishing it with ease. A Giant. No. Stronger than a Giant. A strike that exceeded the idea of “what was possible for a human”. A strike that stood near the pinnacle of “strength”.

The guard crumpled, but it’s existence saved Jack nonetheless. What would have been a cut to split him twain was held back, barely by his own strength and the guard of Durandal itself and a miracle, to become a scathing blow which cut his hands clean off, the blade clattering to the ground with them.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.

Jack bit his lip and ran off again.

A complete and utter failure. The loss of his hands, that is. The blade was no longer the danger, not with that cursed fire gone. He could not have saved the people from the horn, but he saved them from the blade. He had contented himself with that victory.

Now it was nothing but ash in his mouth.

“Cursed paladin! Not a hint of honor or remorse, not a pause of grief! Nothing but greed for your blade! Take it and begone, man with no more honor than a thief!”

The wounds throbbed.

He could feel the pulse of his Master’s command seal as it washed over him. Too little, too sparse. He ran on.

Ran from it all.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Kosara
Home Base, Southern Moor

Hmm. The shelling had finally ended.

Finally. It was a horrible nuisance. Perhaps now she could relax a bit.

Well, at least her time hadn’t been wasted. In front of her stood her familiars, no longer simply wraiths or spirits, now with grotesque exaggerations of features. Teeth that ended in fangs, ribs that showed through, skin of varied colors that stood out, and a wooden cudgel in hand.

“Go, and search.”

The beings obeyed.

Jack
Western Farm

@Reflection@Scallop

In the line of work as a thief, you left behind victims of all sorts by your actions. That was entirely understandable, and a part of the life you signed up for the moment you stole your first piece of coin. Everything one would “steal” has an “owner”, else it is no longer a theft but rather a “taking”. Thieves, the true thieves that Jack calls himself one of and acknowledges, do not take things that cannot be returned.

Lives are not the target of a thief. A hypocritical statement from a man who killed two others the day before, but not one he bothered himself over. They had broken the cardinal rule first, and a knight does not let that go.

So, in not taking lives, in leaving behind those with grudges, it is perhaps inevitable in the line of thievery that one will ultimately “meet a former mark”. Whether that be by design or happenstance, it is something that must be prepared for by all thieves.

Thus the appearance of Roland, and the lady atop the Elephant from that day when the flames rose, was a bygone conclusion in the eyes of Jack.

Thud Thud Thud.

@Reflection

Roland moved to speak.

Perhaps, there might have been a time in which discourse might have been possible. Perhaps, diplomacy might have been the way in which the sword was returned, without bloodshed, without fear, without a mess.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Just as infinite a word as “if”.

Jack knew better. The woman- no, the she-devil. He knew her kind. Bloodthirsty, determined, and willing to step the extra foot past the line. Their appearance upon the elephant won them no points. The paladin’s actions in the flames, consigning civilians to their death, lost them sympathy. Finally, the nature of “those who pursued thieves”, in order to regain their items, had long been burned into Jack. The Giant, bearing down upon him, the earth shaking with their steps, as they growled, roared, and made the world spin as they screamed in indignance and hatred of the thief.

There was only one answer.

Jack the Thief, ran.

His feet flew, in the middle of Roland’s second line, the blade springing to his hand. He ran, ran faster than any in the war might have ever seen him run before, cloak flapping in the wind as he brought up the sword.

”Durandal: Ultimate Unbroken Hallow”, the sword glowed to a blinding degree.

”Escape to Safety.”

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Kosara
Home Base, Southern Moor

@Yukitamas@BlueHelix

A short rest was something Kosara had believed she was allowed after her work of the day, attempting to further defend her and her Servant’s territory from the threat of that grand fire she had seen. But work is never over. A tingle on the edge of her senses. A feeling of foreboding, a premonition of death.

A call from her own servant through their karmic link, mentally transmitting the situation to her. The frown on her face deepened as she considered her options, before swiftly deciding on her path.

“By the order of my Command Seal, Rider, return to me.”

A defensive battle against an invading army.

Perfect.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Workshop, Fuyuki Park

The blade falls, and Jack turns. The smile drops from his face as he sees the distraught expression the girl has. The death of her father in front of her eyes. No matter how poorly the tale ended, the girl and her father had been living in a slice of the tale, the moment of birth, of joy and happiness. To destroy that dream, that happiness, could not be seen as something one could forgive nor justify.

And yet.

He would be the one to boldly say such words. To deny that happiness, with the knowledge that her fate was locked onto a path of naught but despair if the world was not changed.

The thief walked forward. This time, what was stolen was not a core, a blade, or one’s strength. No light appeared. It was the lips of the girl in despair, drowning in her heart from grief.

To say there was a Jack who had the privilege of a peaceful life, of a happy ending- one where he lived to the end of his days with someone -there was none. All he could be was a thief, and at best, a knight of guile. But a knight has his honor.

For once, he’d make a promise to keep. For once, he’d decide to stand by someone and stay.

Jack looked her in the eyes.

“I promise to make you happy.”

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Workshop, Fuyuki Park

@EnterTheHero@floodtalon

The theft was complete. The light faded, and by his side was a- a girl? Clothed in a white dress and a horn sticking out from her forehead, and a look of wonder on her face, he found himself looking at her a bit longer than he intended. Quickly recovering, he sends her a wink. No matter the circumstances, a thief without charm may as well just be a common burglar.

The increasing glow of the red seals on the hand of the magus draw the attention of Jack. The mouth of the kidnapper begins to move. Were this any other situation, Jack would have taken this moment to run. His target had been deprived of a prized possession, and any ordinary thief would have no desire to stick around and have their risk their neck.

Not this time. Not with the fate of innocents who had gotten kidnapped on the line, with a request from a man who promised something well worth Jack’s efforts. No, this time he wasn’t just the thief. He was the man who slew giants in their homes, in their sleep, and on the fields of battle when needed be.

In this case, he could act with the speed needed. A sprint from his position, to the master, fist cocked back coming in for a blow,

A tad bit late.

The blow blasts into the body of the magus, and then through him, the strength of a servant with his skills active, one of the Knight Class no less, striking the unprotected flesh of a human. To call it anything less than a complete victory in favor of Jack would be laughable.

But perhaps not so. Distracted by the appearance of the delicate girl and her appearance, he had moved a step too slow. The light of the seal glowed to a peak, before it stopped.

Turning aside from the Master with his torso blown off, Jack faces the Caster. He should fade now with his point tethering him to existence gone- but a surprise. The Noble Phantasm he was left with, the light of creation of Victor Frankenstein, the lightning bolts of animation lashing out everywhere to bring the workshop to life. Jack made to run, not willing to die from the final grudge of a Caster, but found his path blocked.

The girl who had been summoned to his side grabbed his arm. Smiling gently at him, she growled and faced the lightning, stepping in front of him, interposing herself and the lightning.

The errant bolts, flung out by the Caster and aiming to strike at the Workshop and bodies found themselves redirected to the girl who had been created and born as Frankenstein’s daughter- later called his ‘monster’.

The lightning faded into sparks, drawn into the girl and taken as her own. A smirk, no, a shit-eating grin spreads across Jack’s face as he says the last things Victor will hear.

“Thanks for the gift, dad.”

Durandal is swung. The light of greed shines once more on the dying body of the Caster.

The thief makes his exit.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Fuyuki Park

@Argonaut@Cu Chulainn

Negotiations had been successful. Moreso than expected, given how much he expected the Matous to begin a smear campaign against them. Riyu had to stay behind to keep her clear of any tricks a servant could pull, but the gun experience that the local offered made him decently worth bringing.

Dropping his one-eyed companion onto a decently tall building facing the warehouse Jack had managed to track the kidnapping duo to with aid from his Master, the thief hopped onto the ground and began rummaging through his bag. “Nope, nope, ooh right ten tons of gold, nope, right, here we go.” Pulling out Durandal, he takes in a deep breath as he walks closer to the warehouse itself.

There wasn’t exactly the time nor freedom for a proper heist. A proper casing, a successful understanding of the target, nor a solid exit plan. None of them were developed ahead of time. He had left his master farther away from the battlefield in order to keep her from potentially getting caught in the fight, but that wasn’t any sort of promise an outside force wouldn’t target her. Not after last time.

Sighing, Jack twirled the blade and crouched, torso parallel to the ground. Knowledge of the target, knowledge of the dangers ahead, knowledge of the guarantee of escape- none of those had been something Jack had possessed the very first time he’d climbed that beanstalk. Breaking into an unfamiliar place, but this time, with a purpose beyond himself. Maybe even befitting that knighting he’d gotten.

The doors wouldn’t exactly open up for him, though.

“Guess I’ll just let myself in.”

@EnterTheHero@Floodtalon

A sprint- the ground he stood upon, shattered. The tiny body of the hero known as Jack became a blur, a speeding bullet crashing into the hideout of the criminal who had abducted people in the confusion of the fire, cutting with the holy blade a flurry in front of him with a strength that was unexpected of his frame. Landing with tremendous force, he cratered the ground beneath him and stretched out his free hand.

A gallant thief could play at a hero if he wanted to. And all Heroes were obligated to make the proper entrance.

“Theft of the Heavens.”

The light blazed.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Hiding Out, Native District

“Hmm. Well that didn’t work out like I expected.” Jack mused as he held the blade Durandal in his hands, a spoil of the night before. Stolen from hands of virtue, with the honor of a thief. Snorting at the overblown ideas of honor, he tossed the blade back into his bag. A jaunt and a secondhand chair at the Round Table and part of him thought he held to the ideals of chivalry. Of course not.

Picking up Ruler’s letter, he reads the words and frowns. The culprit of the flames. The words of the Matou Master to his had revealed some troubling truths. There was another who was already going around wearing the face of either himself or his master, a culprit for an unknown crime that had offended the Matous personally, enough that they would easily believe that he had instigated or worsened the fire. It was common enough for a well-known criminal to have his name used by scores of lesser scum in the hopes that riding the coattails of a legend would let them more easily threaten and intimidate others or set false standards to be viewed as.

But to take the name of another before they were known? Either it was a targeted smear campaign, or another party was simply committing atrocities under a false guise in order to protect themselves from the fallout. So it would require another servant with the capability to transform into others, or trick outside viewers to see them as someone else. Nobody fit that bill. Not right now.

There were too many thoughts running through his mind. Looking out, an unexpected sight causes him to blink. Brilliant lights flash in the sky, before fading out.

“Hey Master! I’ll go visit our helpers from last night. I think they’d be open for an alliance. We’ve got a gigantic target on our back right now, thanks to Ruler and likely Matou. I think you should come along to stay safe. Better by my side, wouldn’t you say? We should also search for others we can target on the way.

Besides, who knows who we could run into?”

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Miyama Town

There was only one thing left to do for a Thief who had accomplished his goal.

Run.

Putting away the blade hastily, Jack watched it vanish into his pouch, no longer weighing him down or out in the open. A giant elephant burst onto the scene, further solidifying his resolve to leave. Jack would steal from the great Giant who lived at the top of the Beanstalk, yes, but only one item a day, for he knew better than to test his luck like so.

Without taking into mind the items that he could have picked up as further spoils.

Without thinking of aiding his impromptu helpers.

Without thinking of anything but survival.

Jack the Thief ran for his life, away from the flames and to his own master.

Fate/Factitious Paradigm

Jack
Foreign District

The blade sunk into flesh, tearing and ripping, as the saw dragged along skin. The feral grin on Jack’s face widened as his blade finished it’s arc, only for it to falter as Roland turned and faced him with ease, finishing his action and blowing the horn at him.

For a bit, the world was quiet.

BWEEEEEEEEEEM!

@Reflection

Then it transformed into a literal wall of force in the form of noise, blasted out and sending Jack flying off. Though he managed to land semi-gracefully, directing his fall to avoid rubble and fire, he still stumbled slightly on getting back up on the cobbled path. The unexpected blast had distracted him, thrown him off course, and strangely enough, something foreign, a heavy weight weighing down on him as a burden. A skill or Noble Phantasm of his foe, then. Likely the latter with how the Horn seemed more grandiose and the effect was lingering. Shaking his head, he looked up and witnessed as a new servant, a diminutive girl with horns come crashing down on his mark, and yet another servant, a man far above flung bolts of thunder down.

@Froppy@floodtalon

Jack’s eyes flashed as he scanned the newly transformed battlefield, watching as the lightning slammed down around Roland, reducing his own radius of movement, as he was forcibly locked into combat with the horned girl. Taking in a breath, he decided to take advantage of the honestly miraculous event that had just fallen into his lap. Opportunism was the name of the game, as they say.

“Theft of the Heavens!”

A ball of light shines in the hand of Jack as another engulfed Roland. With how many assistants Jack had now, if this didn't work now, it never would.

It was time for a game of chance.