The Loli Grail War

[Twelveseal]

Warning!!! This fanfiction contains pornogrophy. The author is not responsible for damaged brains or that "unclean" feeling.
I need to repost this it seems. I may not be posting much in it, but I will when I can. The first couple of posts are reserved for Character Sheets. I'll fill them in when I get a chance.

For those of you interested... The RP idea thread.
Table of Contents courtesy of Darthcourt.


Masters

• Emiya Shirou, Master of Archer
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: F
  • Endurance: F
  • Agility: E
  • Prana: G
  • Spirit: F
  • Luck: E
  • Class: Archer
    
    • Independent Action: E
    • Projectile: C
    • Item Creation: C
    
    
  • Order: Knight
    
    • Eye of Mind (True): D
    • Riding: G
    • Magic Resistance: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Magic Circuit (True): G
    • Transcendece (Fake): E
    • Expert of Many Specializations: E
    • Magecraft: H
    
    
  • Phantasms
    
    • Unlimited Blade Works, Infinite Sword Creation: ?

  
  
• Matou Sakura, Master of Archer
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: G
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: F
  • Prana: F
  • Spirit: D
  • Luck: F
  • Class: Joker
    
    • Magecraft: E+
    • Magic Circuit (Fake): E
    • ?
    • Willpower: D
    • Magic Circuit (True): G
    • ?
    
    
  • Order: Pariah
    
    • Regeneration: G
    • Independent Action: G
    • Intuition: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Charisma: H
    • Golden Rule: H
    
    
  • Phantasms

  
  
• ?, Master of Assassin
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• ?, Master of Assassin
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Matou Shinji, Master of Avenger
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: F
  • Endurance: F
  • Agility: E
  • Prana: G
  • Spirit: F
  • Luck: D
  • Class:
    
    • Charisma: D
    • Pretension: D
    • Explorer of the Stars: F
    
    
  • Order: Expert
    
    • Disengage: D
    • Expert of Many Specializations: E
    • Golden Rule: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Tohno/Nanaya Shiki, Master of Avenger
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: E
  • Endurance: G
  • Agility: C
  • Prana: G
  • Spirit: E
  • Luck: E
  • Class: Slayer
    
    • Mental Pollution: G
    • Nihilism: D+
    • Veil of Deceit: E
    
    
  • Order: Knight
    
    • Aristeia: C++++
    • Riding: G
    • Magic Resistance: G
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Mystic Eyes (Pure): G
    • Presence Concealment: D
    • Willpower: E
    • Regeneration: G
    • Resilience: G
    
    
  • Phantasms
    
    • Shinigami, Mystic Eyes of Death Perception: ?

  
  
• Illyasviel von Einzbern, Master of Berserker
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: I
  • Endurance: F
  • Agility: F
  • Prana: EX
  • Spirit: F
  • Luck: F
  • Class: Harbinger
    
    • Child of Alchemy: EX+++++
    • Independent Action: E
    • Transcendence (True): C
    
    
  • Order: Pariah
    
    • Regeneration: E
    • Intuition: A
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Magic Resistance: D
    • Charisma: E
    • Golden Rule: E
    
    
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Makidera Kaede, Master of Berserker
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Kuzuki Souichirou. Master of Caster
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: D
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: D
  • Prana: E
  • Spirit: F
  • Luck: D
  • Class: Striker
    
    • Iron Fist: C
    • Savagery: E
    • Resilience: C
    
    
  • Order: Pariah
    
    • Independent Action: E
    • Regeneration: E
    • Intuition: C
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Chinese Martial Arts: C
    • Presence Concealment: C
    • Veil of Deceit: E
    • Precision: E
    
    
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Ryuudou Issei, Master of Caster
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Caren Ortensia, Master of Lancer
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Inui Arihiko, Master of Lancer
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength: F
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: F
  • Prana: F
  • Spirit: F
  • Luck: C
  • Class: Harbinger
    
    • Elemental Ancestry: D++++++
    • Independent Action: D
    • Transcendence (True): E
    
    
  • Order: Knight
    
    • Savagery: C
    • Magic Resistance: E
    • Riding: G
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Charisma: G
    • Eye of Mind (True): G
    • Regeneration: G
    
    
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Tohsaka Rin, Master of Rider
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms
  
  
• Mitsuzuri Ayako, Master of Rider
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Fujimura Taiga, Master of Saber
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Luviagelita Edelfelt, Master of Saber
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• ?, Master of Saver
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  
• Rion Rance, Master of Harbinger
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • Strength:
  • Endurance:
  • Agility:
  • Prana:
  • Spirit:
  • Luck:
  • Class:
  • Order:
  • Personal Talents
  • Phantasms

  
  

[Twelveseal]

Servants

• Archer 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: ?
  • Master: Emiya Shirou
  • Strength: D
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: C
  • Prana: EX
  • Spirit: B
  • Luck: D
  • Class Talents
    
    • Independent Action: C
    • Projectile: A
    • Item Creation: A+
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Eye of Mind (Fake): A
    • Magic Resistance: D
    • Riding: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Charisma: C
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms
    
    • ?: ? A golden sword with unknown properties that appeared alongside Archer at her summoning.

  
  
• Archer 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: EMILYA (Emilyasviel von Einzbern, Emiya Shirou)
  • Master: Matou Sakura
  • Strength: B
  • Endurance: C
  • Agility: D
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: B
  • Luck: E
  • Class Talents
    
    • Independent Action: C
    • Projectile: B
    • Item Creation: A+
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Eye of Mind (Fake): A+
    • Magic Resistance: E
    • Riding: C
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Magic Circuit (True): E
    • Transcendence (Fake): H
    • Immortality: H
    • Transcendence (True) H+
    • Pretension: A
    • Mystic Eyes (Pure): G
    • Regeneration: G
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms
    
    • Nine Lives Blade Works, Hero’s Style: EX+++++ Type: Support/Anti-Unit/Army. Max Range: Varies. Max Area: Varies.
      A fighting style derived from a multitude of sources, including Cu Chulainn, Heracles, Sasaki Kojiroh, and countless others whose weapons were included in the Artificial Phantasm. A Divine Mystery in and of itself, this technique allows for the wielder to use his Pretension Ranks to emulate the entire Talent list of a given individual in addition to the Talents normal benefits, at no additional cost. It is a natural extension of the use of the original Artificial Phantasm and the techniques of ancient heroes.
    • Unlimited Blade Works, Infinite Sword Creation: A+ Type: Support. Max Range: 1-99. Max Area: Varies.
      The Reality Marble of Emiya Shirou. As one who has deviated from the origin of this ability, it does not function at normal capacity. It cannot be materialized. However, it grants the wielder several benefits. It functions as its Rank in Affinity (Sword), Eye for Art, and Magecraft (Gradation Air) at A+ Rank.
    • Apotheosis, I am the Bone of My Sword: EX+++++ Type: Support. Range: Self Only.
      The true manifestation of EMILYA’s rendition of Unlimited Blade Works, the fusion of internal and external worlds. When this Noble Phantasm is active, EMILYA ceases to be comprised of flesh and blood, her body now made entirely of Noble Phantasm-grade swords warped and distorted in such a way as to appear as a human body. This Phantasm adds it’s Rank to Transcendence (True), Immortality, Regeneration, and Magic Resistance. In addition, it grants access to Mobility (Flight), Eye for an Eye, and Blade Mastery at this Rank. Lurking at the core of this new body, in place of a heart, is a certain sword, usable only through the emulation of another weapon located elsewhere within the frame.
    • Last Trace, Exceed Origin: E+ Type: Support. Range: Any Created Objects.
      A technique that has manifested as a Divine Mystery in its own right. This simple, passive Noble Phantasm increases the Rank of all Items produced by the wielder by 4 Ranks, while at the same time allowing them to be subjected to Variation, distorting them into a desirable new form, and allowing to the user to manifest the item overflowed with Prana, as a Broken Phantasm, if so desired.

  
  
• Assassin 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: ?
  • Master: ?
  • Strength: ?
  • Endurance: ?
  • Agility: ?
  • Prana: ?
  • Spirit: ?
  • Luck: ?
  • Class Talents
    
    • ?
    • Precision: ?
    • Veil of Deceit: ?
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Golden Rule: ?
    • Disengage: ?
    • Expert of Many Specializations: ?
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Assassin 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: ?
  • Master: ?
  • Strength: ?
  • Endurance: ?
  • Agility: ?
  • Prana: ?
  • Spirit: ?
  • Luck: ?
  • Class Talents
    
    • Presence Concealment: EX
    • Precision: A
    • Veil of Deceit: D
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Golden Rule: G
    • Disengage: A
    • Expert of Many Specializations: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Avenger 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Kohaku/Night of Wallachia
  • Master: Matou Shinji
  • Strength: E
  • Endurance: C
  • Agility: D
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: A
  • Luck: A
  • Class Talents
    
    • Eye for an Eye: E
    • Resilience: E
    • Nihilism: C
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Regeneration: A
    • Intuition: EX+
    • Independent Action: B
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Magecraft: A+
    • Territory Creation: C
    • Item Creation: D
    • Mechanical Genius: D
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  

• Avenger 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Tohno SHIKI
  • Master: Tohno/Nanaya Shiki
  • Strength: A
  • Endurance: A
  • Agility: B
  • Prana: E
  • Spirit: C
  • Luck: D
  • Class Talents
    
    • Eye for an Eye: B
    • Resilience: C+
    • Nihilism: A+
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Regeneration: B
    • Intuition: F
    • Independent Action: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Demonic Blood: A+++++++
    • Vampirism: E++++
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms
    
    • Angra Mainyu, This World of Sin: EX++. Type: Support. Range: Varies. Max Area: Varies.
      A potent Noble Phantasm derived both from the Taint of Angra Mainyu and SHIKI’s personal will. This power grants an equal Rank in Prana Well and Sorcery Trait, Eye for an Eye, and Curse Mastery, as well as Magic Circuit (True). The Sorcery Trait condition allows for the summoning and manipulation of the Curse form of Angra Mainyu, though the manifestation must have a valid source. The body of an Avenger is itself a valid source, though.
    • Blood Maiden, Scarlet Sacrifice: B. Type: Support.
      The bound familiar of the vampire, in this case, Yumitsuka Satsuki. A largely independent existence, she must receive Prana or blood from an external source, usually her Master. In turn, he may use her as food as well. She has her own stat block as well, though as a familiar, her abilities are roughly half those of a Tier 7 Character. AP=21, PP=21, TP=21.
    • Nazar, Mystic Eyes of Life Perception: A+ Type: Anti-Unit/ Support. Range: Varies. Max Area: Varies.
      An ability similar to Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, this ability allows the user to see the flow of life-force on targets as lines and spirals. These flows can only be seen on creatures, not objects. By cutting or piercing these phenomena, the user may drain the life-force from a target with great ease. This Talent allows the wielder to ignore the Resilience property when making attacks, as well as to ignore armor. In addition, it seals the Immortality Talent of the target, and adds to both damage and Attack values.

  
  
• Berserker 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Arcueid Brunestud
  • Master: Illyasviel von Einzbern
  • Strength: B
  • Endurance: A
  • Agility: A
  • Prana: A
  • Spirit: C
  • Luck: D
  • Class Talents
    
    • Mad Enhancement: A+
    • Battle Continuation: A
    • Might: B
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Regeneration: C
    • Intuition: G
    • Independent Action: A
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Vampirism: EX++++++++++++
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  

• Berserker 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Tohno Akiha
  • Master: Makidera Kaede
  • Strength: B
  • Endurance: B
  • Agility: A
  • Prana: B
  • Spirit: C
  • Luck: D
  • Class Talents
    
    • Mad Enhancement: A
    • Battle Continuation: E
    • Might: E
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Regeneration: C
    • Intuition: C
    • Independent Action: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Demonic Blood: A++++++++++++++
  • Charisma: E
  • Golden Rule: E
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Caster 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Len and White Len
  • Master: Kuzuki Souichirou
  • Strength: E
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: B
  • Prana: A
  • Spirit: B
  • Luck: C
  • Class Talents
    
    • Magecraft: EX++
    • Territory Creation: EX++
    • Item Creation: G
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Golden Rule: G
    • Disengage: A
    • Expert of Many Specializations: C
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Savagery: A
    • Variation: A
    • Independent Action: E
    • Transcendence (True): G
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Caster 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Nursery Rhyme
  • Master: Ryuudou Issei
  • Strength: E
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: D
  • Prana: B
  • Spirit: A
  • Luck: A
  • Class Talents
    
    • Magecraft: A+
    • Territory Creation: EX+
    • Item Creation: E
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Golden Rule: E
    • Disengage: C
    • Expert of Many Specializations: A
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Pretension: D
    • Reality Marble: EX
    • Variation: A
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Lancer 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Vlad III
  • Master: Caren Ortensia
  • Strength: C
  • Endurance: A
  • Agility: EX
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: D
  • Luck: D
  • Class Talents
    
    • Pole Arm Mastery: A
    • Celerity: C++
    • Battle Continuation: A
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Eye of Mind (True): A++
    • Magic Resistance: A
    • Riding: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Lancer 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Seventh Apocryphal Holy Scripture/Nanako
  • Master: Inui Arihiko
  • Strength: C
  • Endurance: D
  • Agility: A
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: C
  • Luck: C
  • Class Talents
    
    • Pole Arm Mastery: A
    • Celerity: A++++
    • Battle Continuation: C
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Holy Smite: A+
    • Magic Resistance: A
    • Riding: D
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Aegis of Faith: A+
    • Animalism: G
    • Variation: G
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms
    
    • Ciel, Vestment of the Master: Ex. Type: Support. Range: Master. Max Area: 1.
      A special Noble Phantasm that targets the Master and not the enemy or Servant. Allows Nanako to revert to her pile-bunker form, as well as producing a host of armaments and vestment. These automatically appear on her Master, granting him access to her Talents and Ability scores through Addition.
    • Black Keys, Keys of Providence: A++. Type: Anti-Unit/ Anti-Spirit. Range: 1-60. Max Area: 10.
      A form of instantaneous Item Creation that produces Black Keys from Prana, allowing them to be fired like bullets. Is treated as an equal Rank in Precision, Projectile, and Item Creation. In addition, all items created are considered to be Noble Phantasms, and have the shadow binding and sealing property inherent in them. The phantasm is the ability, rather than the item produced.
    • Roa, 17th Incarnation: A++++. Type: Support. Range: Master. Max Area: 1.
      Grants the collected memories of Roa’s skills and Talents to the Master, allowing access to Magecraft of the Kabbalah, Numerology, Thaumaturgy, Necromancy, Sacrament, and Alchemy schools while active. In addition, grants access to High Speed Aria and Kuji Kiri.

  
  
• Rider 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Altrouge Brunestud
  • Master: Tohsaka Rin
  • Strength: B
  • Endurance: C
  • Agility: EX
  • Prana: B
  • Spirit: A
  • Luck: E
  • Class Talents
    
    • Cavalry: A
    • Riding: A
    • Military Tactics: D
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Eye of Mind (Fake): A
    • Magic Resistance: E
    • Riding: See Above
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Vampirism: A++++
    • Willpower: H
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms
    
    • Primate Murder, White Beast of Gaia: Rank: EX++++.Type: Support/ Familiar. Range: 1-2. Maximum Area: 2
      Appearance: The physical appearance of Primate Murder varies. In its passive form, this Noble Phantasm appears as a awkward, clumsy, floppy-eared puppy with long white fur that dangles to its paws. It’s muzzle is long and slender, with the faintly arrow shaped nose projecting significantly further than the actual mouth, which slopes back, giving the face a faintly rat-like appearance. The tail is long and covered in long hair as well, though the length decreases as it nears the tip. The body is slender, and the paws overlarge.
      In its active state, the beast is roughly the size of a Clydesdale horse, its oversized paws hand-like. It is still slender, and clearly has physiological features, such as a missing collarbone, that are not common in canines. The creature is more a chimeric amalgam of multiple predatory animals. It just happens to most closely resemble a dog. Its forelimbs are capable of free independent movement like a cat’s and it is capable of walking upright with a swift but awkward gait. It is very graceful in this state, and is remarkably efficient at leaps, swimming, and climbing.
      Description: The White Beast of Gaia, the embodiment of Gaia’s absolute authority over the life and death of her creations. In this case, humanity. The beast acts as the primary mount and weapon of Rider, adding Rider’s Talent Ranks to its own in order to determine Combat Ability. Murder is a Tier 13 Familiar with its own Talent Ranks and Phantasms.

  
  
• Rider 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: GORGON
  • Master: Mitsuzuri Ayako
  • Strength:
    
    • Stheno: A
    • Euryale: D
    • Medusa: D
    
    
  • Endurance:
    
    • Stheno: C
    • Euryale: E
    • Medusa: D
    
    
  • Agility:
    
    • Stheno: B
    • Euryale: A
    • Medusa: A
    
    
  • Prana:
    
    • Stheno: D
    • Euryale: B
    • Medusa: D
    
    
  • Spirit:
    
    • Stheno: C
    • Euryale: B
    • Medusa: A
    
    
  • Luck:
    
    • Stheno: E
    • Euryale: D
    • Medusa: D
    
    
  • Class Talents
    
    • Cavalry: B
    • Riding: A
    • Military Tactics: A
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Eye of Mind (True): B
    • Magic Resistance: B
    • Riding: See Above
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Stheno:
      
      • Divinity: EX++
      • Holy Smite: F
      • Holy Awe: F
      
      
    • Euryale:
      
      • Divinity: EX++
      • Holy Smite: F
      • Holy Awe: E
      
      
    • Medusa:
      
      • Monstrous Strength: B
      • Divinity: E-
      • Mystic Eyes: B
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms
    
    • GORGON:
      
      • Triumvirate, Three Sisters: A: Type: Support. Range: Self Only.
        A rare type of Noble Phantasm found in the possession of holy trinities, this allows the possessors to be treated as a single being, despite having multiple unique and independent bodies. This Noble Phantasm allows the Three Gorgons to share the same Order and Class Talents, but have unique Personal Talents, as well as have full Ability Points allotted to each of them. However, this sort of Phantasm is a double edged sword. Should one Gorgon be fully destroyed, the other two will die as well.
      • Gorgon Shell, Venom of the Gods: A++++: Type: Support. Range: Self Only.
        The Transformed state of the Gorgon Medusa. This nightmarish beast gains the Might, Celerity, Savagery, and Resilience Talents up to Rank A. In addition, it adds an 8 Rank bonus to the Rank of Medusa’s Mystic Eyes, effectively making them EX Ranked.
      
      
    • Stheno:
    • Euryale:
    • Medusa:
  
  
• Saber 1
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: ?
  • Master: ?
  • Strength: C
  • Endurance: E
  • Agility: B
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: D
  • Luck: A
  • Class Talents
    
    • Blade Mastery: A+
    • Regeneration: E++
    • Resilience: C
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Precision: A
    • Magic Resistance: A
    • Riding: C
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Saber 2
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: ?
  • Master: ?
  • Strength: ?
  • Endurance: ?
  • Agility: ?
  • Prana: ?
  • Spirit: ?
  • Luck: ?
  • Class Talents
    
    • Blade Mastery: ?
    • Regeneration: ?
    • Resilience: ?
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • ?
    • Magic Resistance: ?
    • Riding: ?
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Saver
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Yamase Maiko
  • Master: ?
  • Strength: B
  • Endurance: EX
  • Agility: A
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: A
  • Luck: D
  • Class Talents
    
    • Reality Marble: EX++++++++++++++
    • Holy Smite: G
    • Holy Awe: G
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Chinese Martial Arts: A++
    • Magic Resistance: A
    • Riding: E
    
    
  • Personal Talents
    
    • Battle Continuation: C
    • Expert of Many Specializations: C
    
    
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Archer 3
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: Gilgamesh
  • Master: Kotomine Kirei
  • Strength: D
  • Endurance: D
  • Agility: C
  • Prana: D
  • Spirit: EX
  • Luck: A
  • Class Talents
    
    • Projectile:
    • Independent Action:
    • Item Creation:
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • Magic Resistance:
    • Riding:
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  
• Harbinger
  Spoiler:

  
  

  • True Identity: ?
  • Master: Rion Rance
  • Strength: ?
  • Endurance: ?
  • Agility: ?
  • Prana: ?
  • Spirit: ?
  • Luck: ?
  • Class Talents
    
    • ?
    • Transcendence (True): ?
    • Independent Action: ?
    
    
  • Order Talents
    
    • ?
    • Magic Resistance: ?
    • Riding: ?
    
    
  • Personal Talents
  • Noble Phantasms

  
  

[Erlkonig]

Posting in epic thread.

[Twelveseal]

I do not own anything made by Type-Moon or related companies. This is not for profit.

A Bite to Eat
Something was watching her. Someone else, some presence, moving about the house. It was far too early for her brother. Years of conditioning, honing her body and senses in the martial arts, had granted her enough ability to gauge the interloper within her own home. She had come to trust those hard-won abilities. She had come to rely on her experiences, on her sparring, and showed not an ounce of suspicion to prying eyes. Her hands continued their work, carefully crafting the meal that would become her lunch.

There it was again. That shifting presence, just on the corners of perception. A shadow of movement. The faint presence of a subtle predator just beyond her vision. Using the movements of her task to hide her true intentions, she glanced at the mirrored surface of a hanging pot, seeking this ominous hunter.
There! Standing in the doorway, using the frame as cover. Pale skin and black leather. A cascade of lavender, a band of violet. A crimson brand like a scar. The very presence of this being was beyond any human scope. Even to her senses, the Qi pouring from this creature was immense. This was not a thing of this world. It was not of this time. It had no place here, nor was it welcome. And yet here it was, an intruder into the comfortable confines of reality. Why was it here? Why now, why her? This creature from beyond the grave, peering at her from behind a veil of weird leather. How could it even see her? And yet she was certain it could. For the Gorgon of legend, the dreaded Medusa, had come to this time, this place, to hunt. And now, Mitsuzuri Ayako had been chosen as the beast’s prey.

She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

She could feel it. The presence grew. The monster prepared to pounce. She felt the pressure change, deepen. In the next instant…

“Onee-chan, we’re hungry!” “What’s for breakfast, Onee-chan?”

The voices ringing through the kitchen break the tension as readily as the silence. The two sisters step through the threshold, virtually identical. One, probably Stheno, from what she knew of them, reaches back in passing and hoists their younger sister by the back of her dress, carrying the tiniest of the child-like Gorgons single handed. Medusa hung limp, a virtual rag-doll in the hand of her elder sister.

The white gowned sisters moved with the eagerness of children, which was fitting all things considered. Medusa found herself plopped unceremoniously on a cushion at the table, her head striking it with a resounding thud that made Mitsuzuri cringe inwardly. Dents to the table aside, the little Gorgon simply lay there, head down on the table unmoving. Her sisters didn’t seem the least put off, Stheno settling opposite her tiny sister, and Euryale beside her, leaving only the place next to the would-be hunter, Ayako’s preferred cushion, empty. “Is this breakfast, Onee-chan?” “Will there be baklava, Onee-chan? I want something sweet.”
Nevermind the fact that the elder sisters were entirely too demanding, and the abject silence of the youngest downright creepy, baklava was well beyond Ayako’s skill. She had no idea about Greek dishes, so they’d have to put up with Japanese for now.

“No, there isn’t any baklava. Unless one of you wants to show me how to make it, of course…”

“No thanks, Onee-chan!” In unison, no less, veritably dripping with disgust at the thought. “Aren’t you going to join us, Onee-chan?” Cheerful, now?

Heaving a sigh, Mitsuzuri Ayako finished putting away the unused ingredients and joined the sisters three at the table. “Itadakimasu!” And set to work on her own food. A part of her wondered if she should check on the seemingly unconscious child, but a larger part told her that would probably be a bad idea. Just a gut feeling, but…

As she continued eating, her mind wandered to the events of the past night. The strange appearance of the three girls claiming to be the Gorgons of legend. The sudden, mind numbing battle with the silver haired girl and her jagged spear. The inhuman strength of the one called Stheno, the impossible speed of Euryale, and that looming, monstrous presence that seemed to flow from the smallest like a raging torrent. The only reasons she hadn’t pulled her hair out by now due to the sheer insanity of it all were engraved on the back of her hand, two twining serpents surrounding a single, leering eye. A stigmata that proved her worthy. Of what, she had yet to fully understand.

A Holy Grail War? A Miracle? Things like that were impossible. And yet, so were the child-gods sitting at her table. This was all too much, too fast.

“Please pass the soy sauce, Onee-chan.” Stheno spoke up, breaking her reverie. The three sisters had hardly touched their food. In fact, Medusa still hadn’t moved from where she’d been dropped. That… probably wasn’t good. “Uhh, sure. Here…” Mitsuzuri handed the bottle across the table, stretching over the downed goddess. As she did “Um, is she all righ…”

The Gorgon had sat up. The movement was so quick if barely registered, less like a human being sitting and more like a cobra rising in preparation to strike. Mitsuzuri found herself looking down into the face of the predator-child from before, the realization of just how open she was dawning too late.

The Gorgon exploded into motion. By the time Mitsuzuri realized Medusa had moved, it was already too late. Her back went numb for a second, followed by a shock of pain. The Gorgon-child had pinned her, flattening her to the floor in an instant. But…

Just how the hell did that thing get inside her shirt! The shock of pain, the sensation of something snapping, and a sharp lance of pain over her left breast! “Gah! Ah! Ah! Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!”

Tiny monster writhed like a serpent in her clothes, heaving her blouse up to reveal a torn bra and exposed breasts. The Gorgon had latched onto her nipple, suckling not on milk, but blood, tiny teeth pricking. Why!? What the hell!? She tried to pry the little bloodsucker off, but Medusa was firmly clamped. Just yanking her off would do way more damage… She started pounding the child-sized leech in the ribs, hoping to get her to let go, each breath a yell of “Get off!” or a gasp of pain.

A faint numbness, a faint heat was starting to spread from the bite, something lapping and… This is bad. This is very bad. This is starting to feel… not so painful. “Getoffgetoffgetoffgetoffgetoffgetoff…ah! Ah getoff!”

Just as things seemed to be going in even more sordid directions, the slender hand of Stheno once again reached down to Medusa’s back. All suction, all clamping, instantly ceased. The little monster had gone inert again, like someone had simply ripped the batteries out of an electric toy. The limp child was easily lifted by her elder sister, held aloft single-handed beside Stheno’s head. The two elder sisters stood over her, looking down with a mix of concern and curiosity.

Gulping breath, trying to get over her panic, Mitsuzuri examined her bite. A faint ring of teeth marks, blood welling ever so slightly from them, her nipple stiff and sensitive from too much stimulation. It hurt, really. It kept hurting, as a faint line of blood started to form and run. What the hell kind of monster kid was that! A Vampire!? Was she poisonous!?

“Are you all right, Onee-chan?”
“Wh-what the hell was that!?”
“Imouto-chan gets really hungry sometimes, Onee-chan. She can’t control herself…”
“But it’s alright. You’re all right, right Onee-chan?”
“Y-yeah. But what the hell!? You mean she drinks blood!?”
“Of course, Onee-chan. Normal food isn’t enough to satisfy the needs of Gods…”
“It’s great that you’re all right, Onee-chan! After all, we have to take good care of each other!”

The smile that spread across the faces of the elder sisters was enough to chill the blood. With a flick of her wrist, Stheno sent the tiny Medusa sailing through the air over her back, the limp child landing somewhere out of sight with a dull thud.

The two remaining Gorgons reached for her, hunger in their eyes. Where was her brother!? Why wasn’t he awake? Had they already eaten him!? She desperately tried to back away, but sprawled on the floor as she was, facing enemies whose power far outclassed hers, she knew she was already lost. What, what could she possibly do!? Only one thing:

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

Thus began Mitsuzuri Ayako’s first morning as the Onee-chan of the Gorgon’s Three.

[Erlkonig]

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

[Twelveseal]

Matou Family Morning

For the first time in many a year, dawn had come to the Matou household. The light of the warming sun played upon walls and floors long accustomed only to the gloaming darkness. Lancing past drawn curtains and shutters thrown wide, the sun’s blessed radiance drove away the fearful night. It was as if the whole of the world had agreed that this place need be sanctified. For on this night past, a miracle occurred.

Two young girls had come to this house from a place at once near and far. They were holy children, saintly youths who had no place in the lair of the darkness. And thus the coming dawn had a greater meaning. Light and life had returned to this place of misery and death.

The young lady of the house, Matou Sakura, had set about her morning ritual as any other day, the curious stigmata on her hand concealed behind a simple bandage. Today, just as every other day, she would prepare herself and then travel to the home of a young man who was the unwitting light of her life. There, she would care for his needs as his happiness cared for her heart. If she was a bit lighter of step this morning, if she felt an ease of tensions long held, she was unaware. To her, it was a morning like any other. And so she had set off, leaving the two young girls with her elder brother, Shinji. She felt a bit of worry for them, but knew the strength they possessed better than he, and knew that they could defend themselves well from any advances he might make.

Fifteen minutes had passed since Sakura had left the house in the hands of her brother, the children, and her sleeping “grandfather,” just returned from one of his many business trips. In that short amount of time, the young child called Archer had done the work of a veritable army of servants. With speed and precision beyond compare, beyond human ability, the girl with long red hair had opened every window in the house she could find, swept, dusted, scrubbed, and had begun to vacuum the carpeting, drawing out the hidden cache’s of filth piled up by too much disregard.

Near the ominous stair hidden in the wall, a small girl sat. In her hands was a glass jar with a curious thing in it, which Archer had yet to see clearly. The girl, called Avenger, quietly shook the jar from side to side, a simple, slow motion that stirred whatever floated inside. She sat upon the top stair, looking down into the blackness, an eternal night beyond the reach of the sun. What captivated the girl, in her classical Japanese attire? What drew her attention to the darkness lying below? If one listened, there was the sound of a slithering within that void. The scent of old decay floated from within, however distantly. This was a place that Archer would not be able to clean, surely. So what was it that drew Avenger so?

For a moment, Archer thought. Where was the man of the house? Where was Matou Shinji? Surely not… He couldn’t be. Archer knew all too well what dwelt in that black recess. And so too did the Matou heir. That was no place for a human being. That place belonged to the crawling things born of nightmares. And then he heard it, over the din of the vacuum.

“Are you sure this will make me a Magus, Avenger?” The voice of Matou Shinji rose from the bleak depths.

“Of course, Onii-chan! All you have to do is trust in Avenger-chan’s potions! They never fail!” The child on the stair answered with an angelic smile. A smile that seemed empty for all its perfection. Archer felt a slight chill despite the warming light. There was something… not… right about this girl. Turning off the cleaner, Archer made her way over to the stair to stand behind Avenger.

Peering into those foul depths, she caught the faintest sound of movement, the echo of breathing, and the slithering sound of unholy worms. Was Matou Shinji really so foolish as to… Archer looked at Shinji’s Servant, at the red-headed Avenger quietly kicking her feet on the steps. Was she humming something?

“Umm. So all I have to do is drink this, and then I’ll be able to control the worms? They’ll let me be a magus, right? So I just…” After what sounded to be Shinji convincing himself, there was the sound of a stopper being pulled, of swallowing. A gasp of breath. “So, now I just need to go down there and… control them, right?”

“Avenger, what are you doing? Get him out of there. He’s your Master, right? If he dies, you die.”

“It’s all right, Archer-chan. Avenger-chan knows exactly what she’s doing.” That unnatural smile turned towards him. “Now Onii-chan, just go on to the wigglies down there! Avenger-chan’s special medicine will make sure you’ll be fine!”

There was a deep intake of breath, and then the sound of footsteps. Was he really…? What had she told him to make him walk into that pit of, of things!? All too soon, however, an odd sound came from the darkness. “Wha… ugh!” Followed by a thud, and the sound of gasping. A moaning was coming from the darkness… but the voice sounded… strange. Was that really Matou Shinji? A slithering sound erupted from within, followed by strange gasps and short screams. Archer’s eyes bulged, unable to see around the curving stair to the scene below. Maybe if she stood where Avenger was? But the Servant wasn’t moving.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream, so high it didn’t sound like it could come from the throat of a grown man erupted from within. The rapid sounds of footfalls, rising from the depths, the sound of vile slithering, of dark crawling terrors. Archer’s face whipped up from the Avenger to look into that abyss, to see what was happening. She prepared to rush to the aid of the boy, even knowing his nature. From out of the darkness, a naked form emerged, a… What the hell!? That… that… What the hell!? Archer’s eyes bulged at the impossible site before her. What power had that potion held to produce such a dramatic transformation?

The form of Matou Shinji was… No, that couldn’t be. Archer was seeing things. That’s… that’s the only possibility. Such a transformation, just from a simple potion? No. Just no.

“Oooh. It’s too soon, Onii-chan! You’re not done yet!” And the Avenger lashed out with the bristles of a broom resting beside her, shoving the emerging form back into the pit, knocking it over to roll into the darkness. “Avenger-chan will let you know when you’re a Magus, Onii-chan, er. Is that right? Maybe?” Avenger seemed not to know how to handle the circumstances herself. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Archer-chan! Onii-chan will be just fine. After all, those things don’t kill that type of person, right?” She turned as she spoke, facing Archer fully for the first time.

In her hands was a simple glass mason jar, filled with a mysterious fluid. Inside that jar, thrashing like a dying fish, was a strange worm. Great prongs stood from behind its head, and its long body tapered like a whip. The whole wretched thing looked like some vile gamete. Archer knew what that worm was. Archer knew all too well exactly what that worm was “But, but how…?”
Avenger giggled, her smile seeming to be genuine for a moment. “Avenger-chan knows what she’s doing. Her plans are perfect, and her potions never fail! Most of the time, anyway.” Her smile is a bit sheepish now.
“Say, Archer-chan! You wouldn’t happen to want to try one of Avenger-chan’s potions, too, would you? I have another one just like that one…” She points into the darkness below.

“So Archer-chan. Would you like to try being an Archer-kun?”

[Twelveseal]

Room Service

He was having that dream again. A sea of flames surrounded him, their intense heat baking his flesh even as he ran. The screams of the dying filled the air, warring with thick clouds of smoke and ash for dominion of the night’s sky. Every drop of water baked off him by the hellish blaze while a pitch black sun cried filthy tears for the dead and dying. The cries of the people around him hounded him like the wild hunt, preying on his will to live. Why him? Why not any of the others? Pain and fear and envy and despair were carried into the flames and burned to nothingness. The fire would consume him as it did everyone else.

All he could do was run. All he could do was live for all the people who couldn’t. If he had even a single spark of life left, he would not die. There was nothing left of him but life, even though that too was swiftly fading. He would not give up, without purpose or hope, he would still not give up. If he did, how could he face those who had died without even his chance?

He ran into the dancing darkness, the heat only growing. He ran, knowing he would die.

Dawn broke over the nightmare field, as he lay dying, unable to move. A face appeared above him, a face with a smile of pure joy beyond even his understanding. How he wished he could be like that person. He strained to see, knew that the face should be familiar, knew the path of the dream, but for some reason, he couldn’t make out the details of that visage.

Then there was a light, and a coolness that washed away his pain. He felt all the wounds visited upon him fade to nothing in an instant… But this wasn’t how the dream went. The coolness that had pressed upon him focused below his waist, and there was a sensation of pressure, as if a weight were pressing down on his hips. A scent, strange and alluring, filled his world as the visions of that holocaust fled. The world had become a place of warm, moist breezes and soft, caressing silks.

Why? Why had this dream become so different? The pressure on his hips shifted, and the heat moved. Something in him answered that heat, growing quickly into a fire. What had caused such a drastic change? The heat above him spread, the pressure shifting farther, and the haze of sleep began to fade. He was waking up, this dream that had stirred primal yearnings passing with it.

Blinking blurry eyes, Emiya Shirou began to wake up. He began to stir, hearing the vibrant songs of the birds as he did. But… his body was strangely heavy. His foggy mind didn’t fully process it. It was a little hard to breathe, as if there was a weight on top of him. It made it hard to move, whatever it was. What on earth was laying on him? Wiping the sleep from his eyes with the back of a hand, he looked for the first time at what was laying on him.

And froze.

A young girl, a loose shirt and a pair of pink and white striped panties her only clothing, was laying on top of him. Her eyes closed, the tiny, silver-haired beauty reminded him of a china doll. He tried to lean a bit, hoping to find some way to lever her off without waking her as his mind began to catch up.

What had he done last night!? Where had the girl come from!? Who was she!? Why was she here!? How old was she!? Could he have done that to her!? How the hell was he going to explain this to Fujinee!?!? Could he really have... Wait! There was something. The sensation of pain, a faint memory of something impossible. Something extraordinary had happened last night, but what…

“Hnnnaahhh!” The little girl yawned and stretched, reminding him of nothing so much as a cat first waking. She pushed up on his chest with one hand, her weight pushing him down, and blinked scarlet eyes veiled behind long lashes at him.

“Good morning, Oniichan.” She slumped against him, her slender arms wrapping around him, her weight pressing on him. Between the dream and this… He felt himself stirring. No, this was bad… He could smell her scent, feel the warmth of her through thin cloth, her body on top of him beneath the covers. He felt it. He was jabbing her, pressing against her. But the look on her face, that was not the look of a young girl. She was smirking at him. That was a teasing look that had no place in this situation. Why did she have such an expression?

“Hmmm? Oniichan is feeling better this morning! Good!” A laugh like tinkling bells, and her small hips ground against him in a way no child ever should. The girl, eyes smiling even as her mouth smirked, leaned forward and pressed teasing lips to his. He was too shocked to react. The slight brush of soft lips ended, the girl leaning back as she levered herself up using both hands against his stomach. The girl was straddling him, just above his… He could feel her small butt brushing against the tip. This was really, really bad.

“You were hurt pretty badly last night, Oniichan. You’d better not get too vigorous now, or you won’t get any better…” Her face still held that taunting smile, even as her hips wiggled, slowly crushing his reason. “Hah. Hurt? What do you…” And then he remembered.

A night of madness. A tiny child atop a great white hound. A strange creature like a hellish serpent. A fierce battle that left him running for his life. The wild fangs of the viper gouging him, and the buzzing voice of an unknown savior. The return home, only to find the child with the sword and shield. A desperate flight to his sanctum, and salvation in the form of this radiant girl. The child that Tohsaka had called Archer. The walk to the church. The realization that Archer was someone he had to protect. Someone who swore to protect him. He had come to believe her in that short time.

Only to find her double seeking his head. The rending claws of an inhuman maiden. The feel of his own guts splattering the pavement as his consciousness faded… How was he alive? Had Tohsaka saved him? Had this child somehow staved off that bloodstained monster?

“How? How am I alive right now?”

“Oniichan was hurt really badly last night, but you have something special inside you.” Her smile is still mocking, and she begins to bounce, just above his lust. She’s giggling a bit. “All I had to do was give you a little Prana to stimulate it.” Her smile seems almost lewd, and the giggling starts where it left off.

Mustering his willpower against the growing tide of desire, he reached up and caught her wrists. “Just stop. Hold on for a minute. How did you save me again?” What she had said, the way she said it… Something about that statement sounded volatile.

She began leaning back, his hands still holding her wrists down, as she peered down at him with that smirk.

There was a rush of air and “Good morning Semp-!!”

Standing in the now open doorway to his room was the familiar form of his friend’s sister, the girl who had cared for him in his moment of weakness, Matou Sakura. All color had drained away from her face at the sight of him, a tiny girl in mount. Her mouth hung slightly open. She began to lean back, taking a single step into the hall. If she took one more, she would certainly bolt, but that second step wobbled. Her knee buckled, giving out. She began to fall as her eyes rolled back.

“S-Sakura!!!” Before he knew it, Shirou had lunged from his futon arms reaching to catch her. The girl in his bed forgotten for the moment, Shirou grabbed her and pulled her in. “Sakura! Sakura! Are you all right!!” Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids, and she was muttering something over and over again in a voice too quiet to hear, but she seemed to be all right. She had just fainted, he thought.

Not sure what to do, Shirou lifted the unconscious girl into his arms and carried her to his now vacant futon. He settled her in, hoping she’d be all right, as the girl from before, Archer, pouted at him from the other side of his bed. “I need to go get breakfast ready, and come up with an explanation for someone. Can you take care of Sakura until I’m done? Make sure she’s all right? I need you to let me know if anything changes, ok?” He couldn’t look at the girl without blushing a little. He still remembered exactly what she had been doing, how it felt.

She must have seen it. Her smirk returned full-force. “All right, Oniichan! Leave it to me!” And she pumped a tiny fist. He stood up from the bedside and turned to leave.

At which point he felt the world spin, a weight slamming into him and shoving him forward, the slender limbs of Archer wrapping around him. “You’re too good for her, Oniichan, but I’ll do it for you. But there’s one condition.” “Wha-what kind of condition?” He felt the firmness of her slight body pressing against him, rekindling that fire within. “Oniichan has to let me make sure his health is juuuust fine. Ok?” Ah, well. That wasn’t a bad thing, I guess. Heaving a sigh, he pried her off. “Alright, but I have to go get ready for Fujinee. If Sakura wakes up, let me know. And don’t tell her anything about what was going on, ok. She doesn’t need to be involved with the world of the Magi.”

“Sure, Oniichan!” Her beaming smile ended the conversation, and Shirou Emiya hurried off to the kitchen, thinking about how he was going to explain the sudden appearance of a mysterious little sister.

Maybe he could say she was Kiritsugu’s, and that she had been living abroad due to some custody issues, or something. Maybe Fujimura would buy it…

He glanced at the holy stigmata on the back of his hand, so like a bow and arrow, and wondered just what lay in store for him.

[Twelveseal]

Pancakes

She pounded away at the batter with a vengeance, a thousand curses pouring from her lips. The whisk in her hands whirled with the fury of a tornado, yet not one fleck of the sticky mess flew free of the bowl. She had already added everything that was needed, even the ridiculous amounts of brown sugar that deranged girl had demanded. Yet she continued to thrash the stuff with a fury. Why? Why!? Because! Was making pancakes for that brat something fitting the station of the Voivoda of Wallachia!? No!

Cursing under her breath with the skill of a seasoned war veteran, Vlad III, the legendary Impaler Prince of Wallachia labored at the work of a lesser woman. Why!? She had earned her place and position! Hard won battles, dark and terrible deeds, sins that would never wash away, all piled upon the shoulders of the small child. She had withstood indignities, slavery, betrayal, abuse, injury, torture, rape, and more in her life, and had come back stronger each time. She had earned the fear and respect of the people who had raised her to the title to shame the traitors within her own family.

And she had been reduced to making pancakes for twit. Where was justice!? The Impaler Prince, brought down to the frailty of her youth, and made to cook for a wretched priest and his daughter. Nevermind that Cheshire Cat Thing that hung around like a crow on a battlefield. What had she done to deserve the wretchedness of her life, only to find her own afterlife so… so… humiliating. She slashed the whisk through the air, a distinctive whistling sound, and the telltale noise of gore splattering echoed in her ears, even so far from a battle. Her imagination was starting to run wild. What she wouldn’t give to just mount them all on a spike and be done with them.

But she couldn’t. That girl bore the marks. The crossed spears. The sign of the Impaler’s pact. What was done was done. And so, Vladette, as she was now called, made pancakes. She bit her lip, careful not to pierce it with one of her newfound fangs. She began to pour the batter into the heated skillet, careful not to overlap them.

As she worked, she remembered her clash with the strange spirits the night before. The three figures that had come to deface the church, the symbol of the God Vladette had served, and still did. Those three monsters, roving about without a leash, and that young woman they had led astray. Their power was maddening. An army could not defeat them.

But that was fine. An army could not defeat her, either. The soil itself had given her strength, her faith and skill granting her the means to drive those pagan things back where they came from. It didn’t matter if they had come there for her, or for the ruin of a symbol of their own downfall. They had not succeeded.

The clash of spear and shield, the scent of shed blood and roar of the wind as blades ripped the night air to pieces. These memories flowed through her mind, bringing a respite from the stream of invectives. Though she was a person of great accomplishment, of leadership and scholarly pursuits, a person of the faith, she was first and foremost a soldier who had come to appreciate the finest of battles. And certainly, those were the greatest of foes she had ever fought. The blood in her veins heated with a passion for more battles to come.

She flipped the pancakes.

It wouldn’t do to get too excited when there was no one to fight, after all. The scent of rich sweetness had long since filled the room, and footsteps could soon be heard as she entered. Heavy footsteps.

Behind her stood a tall man in the black robes of a priest, a man with the air of a warrior, a soldier like herself. She had known him for that the moment she saw him. But she had also felt the wrongness in him. This was a man who was as unnatural as her own false life. This was a man she should never trust.

His eyes judged her somehow, weighed her on some inner scale. Against what measure she didn’t know. Somehow, he made her… uncomfortable. Nevermind his authority over her Master, his status as a priest in a church she could feel as hollow was enough. She could smell the blood in the basement, even without going there. This man was only barely human.

His heavy tread carried him to the stove, where he stared at her work. “Make another batch as well, Lancer. Add this to it instead of the sugar.” He reached up into a cabinet above the stove as he spoke, pulling down a sealed glass jar. He set it on the counter and turned, leaving her with the new ingredient. Her eyes widened. Inside the jar were tiny flakes of numerous shades. Some sort of dried spice… She turned it and read a strange word on a piece of tape wrapped around the jar. Habanero. What the hell was that!? It was bad enough that her Master, her Oneechan, was making her cook, but now this weird priest wanted her to do it over!?

“Bah!” She tossed the jar into a corner, aiming perfectly for the garbage can. The sound of shattering glass, though new to her, was an oddly appealing thing.

The sound brought the priest back into the room. Where before there had been an odd ghost of a smile on his face, now there was only a coldness. “What was that?” “I slipped.” A simple statement, she didn’t even bother to hide the smirk. Flakes of the odd spice still drifted in the air over the can, slowly fluttering.

It was odd. His expression didn’t change in the least. He simply reached out and placed his hand on her head, as if to deliver some sort of lesson. It was the grip that followed that was so surprising. The man was strong! With one hand, he lifted the tiny Lancer clear of the stool she was standing on and held her aloft.

For her part, Lancer merely dangled there, unmoving. Was it shock? Pain? Fear?

Hell no!

She was pissed. Wide, child-like eyes seemed to bulge, turning a shade of red more natural on a vampire than anything even remotely human.

“Unhand me you treacherous dog! Heathen Cur! False Priest! Infidel! You worthless…” The stream continued on and on, the curses muttered under her breath from before loosed in shrill screaming fury. Turning the whisk into a brutal weapon, the dangling girl rammed its curving wires into the priest’s body over and over again, each blow striking a vital point. Splatters of batter tagged each strike clearly, like blood from fresh wounds. Blow after piercing blow flew, the priest’s eyes bulging, his mouth hanging open.

It was a testament to the man’s durability that he could withstand even a single strike from a Knight, let alone the whistling rain pounding him now. What supernatural resilience did he have? Or was she merely holding back? Perhaps the whisk was just that poor of a weapon? Yes, blame it on the whisk. It was an import, after all.

After what seemed an eternity, though it was surely no more than a few seconds, the priest’s hand went slack. Eyes rolled back, the man fell to his knees, then collapsed forward. Lancer quickly, elegantly sidestepped the falling man, chuckling at his foolishness. Had he really thought she would do nothing? What idiocy had caused him to think he could handle a Servant in such a manner?

For a moment, she thought she heard the chuckling of a youth from somewhere in the depths of the church, but… There was no presence. She must be hearing that bizarre cat again.

She returned to her place, quickly flipping the pancakes onto a waiting plate and turning off the stove. How convenient technology was in this modern era. She set the skillet in the sink to was after it had cooled a bit, and turned to serve the super-sweet pancakes to her Oneechan in the next room.

Except her Oneechan was standing in the doorway already. A look of exasperation was plastered across the young woman’s face. “Oh Lord, forgive this wayward child.” Showing not a single ounce of concern for the downed man, she looked around the room. Lancer’s eyes followed her gaze.

Pancake batter was plastered to the walls and ceiling in countless places. In stripes from a whisk that slashed the air, in spots where a twisting, thrusting implement had flung off bits.

“Your second chore for this morning, Lancer, is to clean this room. It was a bit lower on the list, but it would be bad if this was allowed to dry.” And she took the plate of pancakes, heading back to the next room, a strange cat-thing looking in. It looked for all the world like it was laughing at her. She had to contain the anger, to stop the fury shaking her tiny frame. It was just another indignity. Just one more small humiliation. Just…

The young Lancer’s morning had only just begun.

[Twelveseal]

Tenderizer

She felt like she had been beaten. Which made sense. She probably had, not that she remembered it, having just woken up. She was lying on the floor, cold, half-naked, and aching in every particle of her being. It was like someone had taken a thousand tiny ball peen hammers to her. She tried to sit up, but her muscles, stiff and sore, quivered and she slumped back to the floor for a. Somewhere overhead, there was a monstrous sound, wailing of impending, inevitable doom.

It was an alarm clock. Her mind still hazy with sleep, or maybe a mild concussion, Tohsaka Rin finally managed to drag her woefully unwilling body from the clutches of gravity. All that just to sit up. The world was coming more into focus, and with it, more sensations.

Such as the melodious sound of a chainsaw ripping through a particularly resilient tree. Oh, wait. No. It was just her Servant snoring. So much for the sleep of the dead. Sleep to wake the dead, more like it. The snore stuttered and her eyes bulged. Survival instincts honed through a night in hell kicked in as the little girl rolled around and lashed out with a foot. The blow would have likely taken her head off at that distance, such was the strength of a Servant. Only the sublime technique of the Tohsaka family’s Kempo allowed her to dodge the strike, heaving a ragged body to the side as the foot cut through the air.

What had ever possessed her to let that thing crawl into her bed in the wee hours of the morning? She half remembered thinking something about cuteness… Cuteness be damned, that little monster had nearly killed her last night! No matter how graceful, elegant, and refined she was while awake, saying that Rider was a restless sleeper was the understatement of the year. She rolled. She kicked. She punched. She elbowed and kneed. She glomped with enough strength, with both arms and legs, to make a girl see stars. She even bit… wait. That one could be really bad!

Heaving herself to her feet as quickly as she could, and wobbling a bit despite her best efforts, she got ready to head to the bathroom and…

Her body froze in place before she was even aware of it. She tried to move, and then just stopped. Her hair was standing on end, a cold chill touching her skin, giving her goose-flesh. Electric current was running up and down her spine, the most primal parts of her mind screaming conflicting orders. Freeze. Run. Freeze. Run. Over and over again those two options were running through her mind. Her stomach was turning over itself, and she tasted bile in the back of her throat, foul and stinging. Tears were starting to form at the corners of her eyes. Yet she couldn’t even look up. It was as if some unholy spell had overcome every ounce of resistance she had developed as a Magus. What was causing this? What made the room, her own bedroom, feel like a promise of oblivion?

One eye, like glacial ice, had opened. It was looking at her. That thing she had resolutely refused to acknowledge. That thing her mind had tried to ignore, to overlook. The white dog. The white hound, aberrant body like a mix of dog, cat, and weasel, was looking at her. One solitary frigid orb, half lidded, had focused all of its attention on her. And her body had responded in the only way it knew how. It had prepared to die. Freezing had won out. Flight was impossible. If the dog wished for her death, she would die. It was as certain as the fact that she had been born. This dog would kill her, and her much vaunted Magecraft, her great skill in the martial arts, her treasury of jewels strong enough to challenge even the mightiest of modern magi, would do absolutely nothing to stop it.

Death looked at her through the eye of a white hound. And death whuffed. And death went back to sleep.

Tohsaka Rin, genius Magus, heir of nobility, top of her class, struggled to keep her bowels in check in the face of a puppy she could lift one handed. That fact alone made her want to gag. The only thing that kept her from retching right there was the fact that no one else had seen it happen. No one would know that the White Beast could cause such a reaction in her, let alone with such a look. It was unbecoming for a Magus to fear death, after all. Even if it was solely the part of her brain that was that had anything to do with that reaction.

Freed from the eyes of death, Tohsaka Rin rushed to the bathroom, seeking to solve a problem that had not existed before the thing had looked at her. After finishing her business, she set about checking her body for any bite marks the little brat might have left. Bruises she could fix, cuts and scrapes, even broken bones and some minor organ damage. But a solid bite from her Servant… That was more than a physical wound. There was no cure for that.

Finding her skin unbroken, Tohsaka set about preparing for the school day. She went back over the events of the past few days, considering how things had played out. The strange phone call from that fake priest about the date of the Grail War changing unexpectedly. The appearance of the priest’s daughter. The rushed summoning. And now this. She hadn’t even gotten the Saber class. Not even a Knight. She had gotten the Rider. Her head hurt. But it was the best she could do on such short notice. She’d have to make do. Not that the thing she had summoned was weak.

Certainly not. If her opponent was truly human, she was guaranteed victory before the battle had even begun. Even those Servants and Masters who might have been more, or less, than human would still be at a disadvantage to the monster at her command. And the girl’s ability to regenerate Prana on her own… Certainly, she was one of the best Servants a skilled Magus could ask for. But still, Tohsaka had her misgivings.

This was the earliest the war had ever occurred. Early September. And it hadn’t even been a full decade since the last war. Not to mention that Kotomine had seemed nervous about something. He had continued to glance at the Spirit Board, as if there was something wrong with it. It was a dangerous time, but she might need to ask around. That novice Sajyou might have heard something. Or maybe the Sashirono family. They tended to be well informed, for hybrids. Even that strange one, the young man in black who lived on the other side of the hill… No. Maybe not him. Something wasn’t right with that one. His presence reminded her of her Servant too much. Plus, it was easy to miss the road that led to his house. She’d walked by it more times than she could count without realizing it.

Maybe she could go ask the Matou’s… Their pact had been one of non-interference, but in a situation where the Holy Land could be endangered, her status as the Second Owner took precedence. Plus, she could check on… things. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. Start with the Matous, and go from there.

Finishing up, Tohsaka stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room, only to find a bleary eyed child standing there, her nightgown and hair disheveled with sleep. In one hand was the white dog, held more like a cat and looking for all the world like a white mop head with teeth, and the other rubbed fitfully at a sleep-caked eye. Looking at that image, and noting that the dog wasn’t producing the same detestable reaction it had so recently, Tohsaka was struck with an understanding. She knew why she had let Rider sleep with her. Cuuuuuuuuuute!

The little girl’s mouth was moving. It seemed she was mumbling something. Walking over to the petite Servant, she asked “What was that, Rider?” It was a surprisingly gentle tone. “ ‘M thirsty, Oneechan.” It was a simple question. It was a cute question. A cliché, really. Cute little girl wakes up in the middle of the night and wants a glass of water.

Except this was Rider. She didn’t want water.

And she was holding something that could paralyze Tohsaka Rin with a glance.

As she crumpled to the floor under the dog’s gaze, her Servant spoke. With a drowsy, slurred voice devoid of malice, she said “Don’ worry, ‘Neechan... won’t… turn you…”

And a pair of sharp fangs pierced her neck.

[Twelveseal]

Needs Food Badly

“Oniichan…”

Hmm? ‘S too early. I’m sleepin’

“Oniiiiichaaaaan.”

“ ‘S too early, ‘m sleepin’”

“ONIIIIIICHAAAAAAAN!”

“Leave me ‘lone”

“ARIIIIIIIIII-HIIIIIII-KOOOOOO-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!”

“Gyaaah!” A tremendous weight slammed into his abs, blasting the air out of him in a mighty whoosh. Along with it went all vestiges of sleep. Eyes bugging, Arihiko Inui found himself once again face to face with Nanako-chan, now sprawled with all the grace of a dead goose across his stomach.

“Good Morning, Oniichaaan!” She beamed up at him, her face radiant with childish joy. Somewhere deep inside, something stirred. It was a feeling he could not hope to resist. Slowly raising one hand, with a beatific smile, the young man prepared to do something he probably shouldn’t.

He drove his fist into the top of the brat’s head. “Good Morning, Nanako-chaan!” His smile was a lot more forced than hers.

“Owowowow. Is that any way to treat your imouto-chan? Abuse! Abuse!”

“It’s only animal abuse! It won’t hold up in court!” For whatever reason, this had turned into a chase scene inside his room. Just what waited at the end, who could say?

“Oniichaaaaan! We need more carrots! The icebox is empty!” No. He could tell. Death lay at the end of this chase.

He had fully stocked that refrigerator last night.

“Raaaaaah. We’re having horse for dinner!!!” Yet for all his desire to strangle the horse thing, he had to admit, it wasn’t so bad. It had been only a short time since they had said their farewells, expecting never to meet again. And yet here they were. It was as if they had awakened from a strange dream, only to find it had been real.

Eh. Poetic stuff really wasn’t his thing. He’d just catch her, beat her senseless, and then make her compensate him for the food she ate. Wait. Was he contemplating bestiality again? Ok, so she was a bad influence. Still though, who would have thought just how crazy things could get?

It had all started a few weeks ago, when Tohno’s delicious, er, lovely little sister had said something about a Grail thing in this city. Supposedly, it could solve all of their problems, from Tohno’s bad health, to finding their missing classmate, Sacchin. Of course, there was supposed to be some kind of competition, and it wasn’t supposed to start until later that year. Go figure.

Arihiko hadn’t really bought into it. I mean, sure, he had seen a paranormal thing here or there, and Sacchin had always given him some weird vibes. Not to mention Tohno himself, or his imouto. But, I mean seriously. A Holy Grail? A real, honest-to-God, Holy Grail? No way. And it had been a casual conversation, anyway. Nothing serious. It was like, I dunno, a Temple Pilgrimage, or something. It was just some weird tourist thing, right?

Unfortunately, he got a look at Tohno’s eyes back then. He knew that look. Tohno was going to do something, probably really cool. And he was going off to do it alone. Hell no. Tohno had had plenty enough adventures for one year it seemed, what with that hot foreigner that kept showing up, and Ciel Sempai. And the Maids. And that little girl with the funny ears. And then there was that girl with the braid. It seemed like he was forgetting someone… Eh, must not be important. No. Just no. Every time Tohno got that look, he wound up with another girl chasing him.

Not this time. This time, it was Inui Arihiko’s turn! So he had asked around. Turns out, Fuyuki was a pretty popular place in the summer. And as it turned out, one of his sister’s friends (she had friends!?) owned a timeshare out that way. It was a sweet beach house with a great view overlooking the bay. And the bathing suits. And what wasn’t always in the bathing suits. Problem was, if Inui wanted a shot at whatever this adventure was going to turn into, he needed more than just a spot to crash. He needed Tohno-kun. Besides, it just wasn’t cool to leave a brother out, you know. Unlike some people who shall remain nameless…Cough cough _Tohno cough.

Well, it stood to reason that the best way to get Tohno on board was to bring up the beach house. But it didn’t do them a lot of good if this thing only went on during the winter. It was a real let-down. Everything was good, except for the timing.

But then that cute maid with the smile said something awesome. Apparently, some person she knew called Mr. Chin (how the hell did she know some strange foreigner when she never left the house?) and this guy had told her about a change of date. Apparently, something had happened that had bumped the time-table up.

It was a blessing of the gods! Everything was set. Except now they needed a ride. Maybe Tohno-chan could hook them up with that limo of hers…

As it turned out, she couldn’t. Some kind of business had come up, and she was out of the trip. There went part of his incentive, but by this point, he was getting psyched for it anyway. And she was awesome enough to loan them enough money for plane tickets two ways. One way, and then enough cash for both the stay and the tickets back. Damn! He really wanted to marry into this family…

So, everything was set, bags were packed, and away they had gone. Apparently, there was some kind of weird ceremony thing, traditional whatsit or whatever that they had to do, but it could wait. They got settled in, explored the kickass beach house, checked out both sides of the town, and generally hung out.

Problem was, Tohno seemed pretty tense the whole time. It was like he had something on his chest. Finally, a couple days in, Tohno finally spilled. He told Arihiko about his weird-ass eyes. About the Tohno family. About the crazy vampire shit that had gone on earlier that year. He told him about the girls. Oh, sure, there were things he left out. Arihiko was willing to bet he’d banged more than one of them. Lucky bastard. But damn! And the thing was, he could tell it was true. Even without Tohno showing him how his eyes worked on a lead pipe they’d found laying around the back of the house. They had known each other a long time. He could tell when Tohno was lying.

And he definitely wasn’t lying.

That sobered Arihiko more than anything else. That blonde woman was a vampire. The little girl was a succubus. And a cat. The girl with the braid was an alchemist, some kind of magic-user like in a video game. Ciel was a vampire hunter. The maids were psychic. And his cute little sister. She was a demon. Or something.

What.

The.

Hell.

Ok. Maybe he didn’t want to marry into the family. Then again, he had considered doing the horse thing. On second thought, a demon is fine, too.

Well. All said and done, Arihiko realized he had shoved his nose in some crazy shit. And that was just the beginning. Because he knew he wanted a piece of the action. He may not have had crazy Eyes of Kill-it-now, but he had kept the pace with Tohno well enough over the years. He’d always felt a little different than everyone else. Maybe he had what it takes?

So he’d given the ritual a try when Tohno had. And it worked. Nevermind the weird-ass thing Tohno had summoned, though. Arihiko had wound up with this damn horse again.

And now here she was. In his house. Eating his carrots. Again!

It’s on!

[Twelveseal]

Brother, where art thou?

The wind roared, a storm caged inside the building. Light and power, fierce beyond imagining, ripped through the fragile air, scattering it with the power of an unbound void. He felt as if he were going deaf, as if her were going blind, as if he were going mad. The world had been torn asunder, shattered and broken by a strength beyond mortality.

The fragile walls of the place shook with each pulse of energy, each surge of Prana. Not for the first time, Tohno Shiki wondered just what it was he had determined to do. Staring into the maddening void, he stared into an impossible future. Could he save Arcueid from her lust for blood? Could he rescue Akiha from the curse f her own birth? Could he cure Sion and Satsuki? Could he save himself from his own fate, from the weakness of his body and the ruin of his terrible eyes? With eyes that could see the unseen, he stared into a realm no mortal was meant to.

In that moment, looking beyond the pale, an understanding dawned. For in looking into the realm of the dead, he looked into the face of the world. And he learned. His mind shattered and was reborn time and again, so that the Tohno Shiki who stood there was the same and yet not. For the Tohno Shiki who stood there knew better than ever before what it truly means to die.

His stomach heaved. He wretched everything he had eaten onto the floor. His vision swam and blackened to nothing, crisped away by a sight that his human mind could not handle. He had looked into the realm of oblivion for only a fraction of a second, but it had been more than anyone had been meant to see. Not even the twisted Circuits lodged in his eyes and brain were enough to buffer him completely.

Fighting to remain conscious, Tohno heaved desperate gasps of air into a throat burned with stomach acid, into a nose that smelled blood and filth. Into lungs that felt as if they would burst. Outside the realm of his own body, the storm of power raged, driving him to greater and greater stress. His body itself could feel the unnatural power roiling from that rift.

He collapsed, nearly falling in the pool of wretchedness he had just plastered to the floor. His eyes still couldn’t see, but it felt as if the world itself were spinning, his body having some kind of fit. It was like a seizure, muscles spasming out any semblance of control. His hand burned, deep and agonizing, as if to the very bone itself. And still the wind roared.

He couldn’t see it, nor could he hear it over the gale, but he felt it. There was a presence in that maelstrom. Someone was there, standing. Waiting. Watching him writhe on the floor like a landed fish. He felt a weight settle into him, pulling at pathways in his body that he had never felt before. He felt the energy that had always flowed through his eyes flowing outward as well. It was as if his eyes had grown into something else as well.

The wind had begun to die, so that now he could hear the fluttering of cloth in the night. He absentmindedly wondered if Arihiko had had any luck. If he stayed blind like this, he wouldn’t be doing anyone any good, Servant or not. Damn!

His mind had begun to resolve itself into something a little more reasonable, his body more under control. But he still couldn’t see.

So he listened.

And heard a voice.

“Shit! Don’t tell me you’re my Master, you thief!” Huh? That voice sounded familiar, but…

“Damn! Damn! I’m definitely going to kill you right here and now!” What the hell!? Ok so that was definitely… Oh crap! And he couldn’t see!
He could feel the presence advancing, skirting the vomit. It was way more powerful than he remembered, but… The voice was off. And it felt smaller. He delved into the instincts he had discovered since the last time they had met. He gave himself over to the blood of the Nanaya. The Demon in front of him… he would certainly kill it.

If he could see.

The best he could hope for now was…
“Huh?” There was an odd rustling sound, cloth fluttering with no wind.
“Wh-wh-what the hell!?!?!?!?!?!? It’s fucking missing!?!?!? WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Huh?
“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME!?!?!?!?!? YOU BASTARD!?!?!?!? FIRST YOU TAKE MY NAME, THEN YOU TAKE MY PLACE, MY SISTER, AND NOW FUCKING THIS!?!?!?!?!? GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There was a resound thump, followed by what sounded like crying. The Demon was crying.

Maybe it was the vision from before, the understanding that came with it. Maybe it was past experience, after all, he had gone blind like this before. Maybe it was fate playing some kind of sick joke. His vision was returning.

Lying on the floor, crying, was a small child with shoulder-length white hair. He was sure the eyes were red as blood, even though they were squeezed shut. A small dagger was clutched in one white-knuckled, shaking hand, and the body was wrapped in a simple kimono that had come loose. The person was unmistakably Tohno SHIKI, the true heir of the Tohno family. The person who Shiki had long ago called brother. The person who had lost the battle with his demonic blood. The person who had become the vessel of an unholy vampire. Even with the strange red marks, like twisted blood vessels crawling across its skin, it was clearly Tohno SHIKI.

There was only one problem. There was something horribly wrong with the Tohno SHIKI collapsed in anguish on the floor.

It was a girl.

[Twelveseal]

Mountain Dawn
The rays of the sun scattered the clouds as the great sphere rose above the horizon. Elsewhere, the people of the city of Fuyuki were just stirring from their rest. The light raced through quiet streets and sleeping homes, heralding the day to come, carrying life and warmth to all of humanity. All was right. All was at peace.

Despite the ominous forest surrounding it, one of the first places touched by that warmth was the temple atop the mountain. It was one of the best places in the city to see the stars at night, and the coming of the dawn. The great height, so far above the city’s lights, gave a clear view of the sea, of the vast blue horizon, the play of the clouds becoming a radiant canvas in the boundaries betwixt day and night.

It was a breathtaking sight.

And it was of no consequence to Kuzuki Souichirou. Certainly, there was a beauty and meaning in it. A spiritual and philosophical essence that he could appreciate.

But these were things that did not concern him.

Focus.

Purpose.

Meaning.

These were the things which Souichirou sought. These were the things into which he delved, not in the world, but beyond it. These were things he sought within himself.

And so Kuzuki Souchirou had begun this day like any other. With focus, purpose, and meaning. With breathing.

He found his center, his body resting in the simple Lotus Position. He felt the flow of blood in his veins, the breath in his lungs passing into that blood. He felt the minute sparks of nerves firing. He felt the molten flow of Qi throughout his body, slow but hot like fire. Swift and cold like ice. It was all of this and more. His breathing aligned with his body, reaching a state of perfection, however limited. Within him, all was in harmony. If he had found the power to look without as within, he would have found the comparison full with meaning.

But to one whose focus was forged through years of strict conditioning, such luxuries did not exist. All there was, the moment.

He faced away from the sun. He faced away from the coming dawn, as he had for over an hour already. He faced the placid lake, a caldera that held a tranquility mirroring his own inner world.

Within the Temple, the monks had already begun to stir. And yet not one looked at Kuzuki. They had long since known him, and knew of his habits. No, many envied him. He had a determination that few could match, as if he held himself to a standard beyond all measure, and yet falling just within his scope.

However, one thing was different this glorious morning.

For today, Kuzuki Souichirou did not sit alone.

Beside him, silent and unmoving as a stone, as Kuzuki himself, sat a cat.

It was a black cat, dark as the deepest night. It was a small cat, more a kitten, really. And in the course of its days, someone had tied a bow around its neck. A simple collar, certainly, marked by the clear sound of the bell hanging from it. It was a fine cat, clean and well-groomed, with a fine coat. Its eyes were striking, the color of rich heart’s blood, and carried the weight of ages. To look at this cat, truly look at it and understand, was to see a fragment of a memory of elder Egypt and her subtle gods. Certainly, this cat had a bearing worthy of Bast.

Together, the two figures sat in silence, their thoughts their own. And this was as it should be, too. No words were needed between a cat and its master. There was only the moment. Meditating on that which is beyond the worldly coil, the two faced the lake in which ancient secrets lay hidden still, listening to the wind’s whispers as the reflection of dawn shone up from the clear waters.

The light rose up their bodies, filling them with its heat. And Kuzuki rose with it, body stretching, muscles tensing and loosening as he began to stretch. Still the cat sat there, unmoving. But were its eyes watching the man? Perhaps. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light.

The lake, filled with the colors of the dawn, bore witness to the secrets of Kuzuki’s technique. And the cat watched, its council known only to itself. Each strike, each step, every breath and shift was flawless. Movements beyond the reach of sport, to the true depth of Budo. This was a technique beyond purpose in the world, as meaningless to the world as the man’s inner searching had been. For of what value to the world is the purpose of a single man in this era?

It was such a question that Kuzuki Souichirou would one day defeat.

The clarion chime of a simple bell spoke volumes. In that moment, Kuzuki understood.

For now, at least, he would not fight that question alone.

The bell chimed again, and whether it was an omen of good fortune or ill, he knew it meant change on the horizon.

And so it was that Kuzuki Souichirou and the cat, the spirit Caster, greeted the morning.

[MrTags]

*Rolls on the ground twitching and shaking*

My brain, give me back my brain... epic but sooooo soooo...

*twitch twitch roll* loli argh

[Erlkonig]

It's so GOOOOOD... And so MOOOEEEEEEEE, and so HNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

[Twelveseal]

Three’s a Crowd

She was sitting in comfortably at the table, peacefully eating a fine breakfast that the light of her life, her beloved Sempai, had painstakingly crafted for her. He himself sat opposite her, quietly eating as well. The time passed slowly, lazy, relaxing. It was just that kind of restful quiet. For some odd reason, Fujimura-sensei hadn’t arrived, otherwise that peace would have been different. It was just the kind of thing that filled her with happiness. But not today. Today…

Today, the food tasted like ash in her mouth. Their juice was sour. Today, everything was wrong. Today it was vile. Today it was impure. Today it was underage… ahem. That was unbecoming.

The food was fine. Sempai’s cooking was perfect as always. No matter what he said, his food always tasted better than hers. Maybe she was a little biased, but it at least tasted better to her. So why was there so much wrong. It wasn’t like she had walked in on… No. No. It was all perfectly fine. She was his little… sister.

That she had never heard of.

That looked nothing like him.

That was clearly not human.

No. It was all fine… Something inside was starting to crack. She heard it in her mind. Like the sound of a window spidering after an impact.

She had known something like this might happen. Her Grandfather had ordered her to observe the house for over a year now, just in case such a thing did happen. After all, Emiya Kiritsugu had won the previous Holy Grail War. As much as she hated that command, hated betraying her Sempai like that, she secretly blessed that old man for the chance to spend time with the man she loved. Was she blushing? She hoped not. She kept her head down as she ate, just in case she was.

Emiya Shirou had always been a potential enemy of the Matou Family, and as the heir apparent, that meant he had always been her enemy. At least according to Zouken. But she had seen just how… umm, inexperienced… he was as a magus, and had managed to convince her Grandfather that he was no threat. Still, she was lucky. He had wanted her to continue the surveillance.

But things had taken the worst possible turn they could have. A few days ago, Sempai had developed an odd bruise on his left hand. And it had bled. It had such a strange shape, like an elaborate tattoo. To anyone who saw it, that’s what they would have called it.

Unless they were a Magus. That mark was the beginning of a powerful pact with a familiar of nearly god-like power called a Servant. A hero of the past, or present, or even future, drawn from a place beyond time to serve as the champion of a Magus in return for a single wish.

It was a mark of worthiness. It was a mark of honor. It was a mark of power. And it was proof that they were enemies. Because only one person with those marks could be victorious in the War they heralded. And she, too, had those marks. This tiny girl, pale silver hair and eyes like blood, overflowing with so much Prana that it was a wonder the air itself wasn’t solid, was turning Sempai into her enemy. Oh, Sempai! Why couldn’t you have just… just… just stayed out of it!!

It was a certainty that her grandfather would make her fight. It was a certainty that no matter how hard she tried, she could not resist the torments he would force on her. He would take her into the basement, and… she wanted to cry. She wanted to just give up.

And then she had found them doing… that! She had wanted to touch him for so long… for so long, and she hadn’t. He deserved better than a filthy woman like herself. He deserved someone who was pure, someone who he could trust. Someone who could make him happy. She couldn’t do that. She knew she couldn’t do that. She knew she had no right to be here. But she was selfish. She wanted to be near him, even if he never looked at her, even if he never touched.

No matter how much she wanted his hands holding her, caressing her, she knew she was unworthy of him. She felt sick. She wanted to die. She was here, taking advantage of him even now. She was here, getting in the way of this l… this lo… this love he had found. How could she possibly compare to a hero?

So here she sat, bitter disgust flavoring Sempai’s meal. And that in and of itself only made it worse.

The young girl sitting beside Sempai seemed to be enjoying the awkward silence. After all, Sempai hadn’t said anything after introducing her. He hadn’t even given her a name. He just said that she had crawled into his futon from the other room at some point in the night.

She wanted to believe him. She trusted Sempai. But she didn’t trust that girl. There was something about her… She felt familiar somehow. It was really weird. She felt like there was something in common between them. If they had something in common, then she… yes. She was definitely a lewd girl. No one her age should act like that. No one should crawl into Sempai’s room and do… She couldn’t finish that thought. She knew the moment she saw.

She wanted to do that with Sempai. She was jealous of this little…muuuu.

“Ah, I-uh, I need to go get lunch together.” And Sempai quickly stood up and headed back to the kitchen, his food finished. Ohhh. She had made Sempai uncomfortable. If she had just not come today…

There was a light chuckle. Matou Sakura turned at the table, now shared only by the two girls. The pale vixen sat there eyes half-lidded in satisfaction, that nasty smirk on her face again. It was that same face that had greeted her when she had woken up in Sempai’s f-fu-futon. She could feel her face reddening. She still remembered his smell, lingering in it… She felt it stirring inside her, and tried to clamp down on the lust, and what it brought. That… that was bad.

Wait. The smell. It had smelled like Sempai, warm and musky and… and she needed to stop, or it would get worse.

Ah. Ok. Better. It hadn’t smelled like that other… thing. So they hadn’t. Umm. Ahhhh. She felt a weight off her chest. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they looked.

“Are you through convincing yourself we didn’t do anything?” That smug little brat. Muuuuu. That wasn’t nice of her.

“I trust what Sempai says. I’ve known him for a long time, after all.” She was quite confident that she knew Sempai far better than this little sl… Ok, so she was angry. She needed to calm down. This wasn’t like her.

“Ooh. I see. So you know him much better than me. I understand. Sooo… how was he?” Wha… What did she just say!? “I-I…” Her face was beet red, she knew. And it wasn’t the only place flushing, thinking about Sempai.

“Oooh. He was just great with me! And sooo big!” Her hands were spaced so… so far apart! Oooh. Could Sempai really be that bi… Stop! Stop! Stop! Bad. She was starting to feel warm… If only she were normal, but, she could feel them stirring.

Taking a deep breath, she settled herself. For some reason, it was easier than normal. She coughed into her hand, using it as cover to make sure her nose wasn’t bleeding.

“And he knows just how to use his hands, too!” Ok, this is getting ridiculous. “And his tongue…”

“Enough!” It was quiet, but with force. “Sempai and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re a pure family.” That almost hurt to say. But it was true. That’s all she could ever be to Sempai. It was more than she deserved, even if she wished with every fiber of her being for more. She should be happy with the time they shared. It was enough. It had to be enough.

“Oh? Are you sure? We could share him, you know? After all, you’re pretty cute, too!” Wut?

“Hmm? How about it? We can take turns, and then maybe…” That did it. The worms were on the move. She felt a warm trickle down her lip. Her nose was bleeding. She had to go to the bathroom, now. NOW!

Otherwise, this was only going to get worse, fast. Ohh. Doing such a shameful thing in Sempai’s home.

Again.

And Again. And Again. At this rate, she might be later for Archery.

After a while, she felt a bit better. It wasn’t perfect, but it was manageable. She was really starting to not like this Servant. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know the girl’s Class. If she didn’t at least find that out, her Grandfather would put her back in the pit for an extra hour, she was sure. If she was lucky. And he was in a good mood.

As she came out of the bathroom, she looked around, and… that girl was standing right next to the door.

“Feeling better? You should invite me next time.” Her smile felt sincere, but… Oh no, she wasn’t letting this start again. This girl… was she more perverted… was she actually more impure that Sakura? Even with the violations, the surging passions, she strove for self-control.

But this child… It was as if she didn’t care. Or maybe she cared too much. Was she really serious? About all of it? No. No. The room hadn’t had that smell. They hadn’t…

“You know, I bet I know what you’re thinking right now. Just so you know, there are lots of rooms in this house.” That smirk, that wicked little smirk. And now she wanted to run up and down the halls just to see if it were true, check every room and closet and even the shed.

But doing that would mean she didn’t trust Sempai. She had to trust Sempai.

“You should think about my offer. It’d be a lot of fun!” From that smirk to a genuine smile again? “You should respect your elders a little… more?” Why was she laughing?

And with that, the little girl walked off into the houses depths, leaving Sakura alone in the hallway.

She needed to find Sempai and get going, or she’d miss practice. She had to ask him something before she left.

She found him finishing up the cleaning after preparing his lunch. And for a change, he handed her a box as well. “Here, Sakura. Since I did the cooking, I went ahead and made our lunches together.” The Bento was filled. She could feel the weight. As much as she hated to admit it, she did love food. She’d have to work it off somehow, but she felt he was really spoiling her. And that alone made so much of this morning worth it.

“Oh, umm. Sempai. What did you say your sister’s name was, again?” He stopped for a moment, surprised. “I thought I told you earlier? Her name is Archer.”

She nearly dropped the bento.

Because her Servant was also Archer.

[Twelveseal]

Cracked

It had been a long night, and would likely be an early morning. Neither of which were really that weird for Tohno Shiki. He had grown accustomed to that kind of thing over the past months. Between Arcueid’s nocturnal habits, his sister’s love of strict rules and early mornings, not to mention all of the late night patrols he had taken, he had started to get used to running on only a few hours of sleep.

Not that it was particularly healthy for a guy with anemia. But what can you do?

Heh. Sometimes event those hours in bed weren’t really sleep. Between Arc’s growing libido and keeping Len fat and happy, well. He really needed a good rest. Just a nice, long sleep. On the plus side, his sister and Ichigo-san had vouched for them needing a leave of absence from school, so they had managed to dodge that particular flying sword of blood.

Speaking of which, he seemed to be finding those somewhat common, at least as of last night. Somehow, the ritual in that book his sister had given them went a little… haywire. Like something Kohaku would make level of haywire. Instead of summoning some legendary hero, the way the book had described, he had wound up with a very unhappy step-brother. Who had somehow become a very unhappy step-sister. And who also happened to be significantly shorter than he remembered.

The last time he had seen this guy, he had been wrapped in bandages, shocks of hair turning black, or was it white, and getting nailed, literally, by Sempai. Combine that with the fact that he had looked into something that he had the distinct feeling was supposed to be beyond the scope of human existence, and that it had messed up his eyes even more than they were…

He really, really just wanted to sleep. Arihiko had been lucky. He had summoned something weird, too. That horse thing Shiki had seen in his room once. But at least he got along with Nanako. She seemed like a good kid. It was strange. They were nothing alike, but she reminded him of Len somehow. And Sempai.

He tried to ignore the lines across his vision. Even with his eyes closed, he could see them now. He saw them on the back of the lids themselves. Now that was strange. Before last night, he had been able to escape them by closing his eyes. But not anymore. The glasses that Sensei had given him, which had worked so well for eight years, weren’t good enough anymore. Since last night, he could see lines through them, as if the glass were cracked. In fact, he wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see lines on the glasses. And that scared him.

But there was something stranger still… He had always gotten very sick when looking at the lines. The longer he looked, the harder he focused, the more it hurt. Arcueid had told him that he might burn out his brain that way, ending up a vegetable. That, as well as Sensei’s lessons all those years ago, had given him a healthy respect for his eyes.

But now he didn’t feel sick. Now, his head didn’t hurt. He had gone to bed, his vision still blurry, with the only things in focus the lines. And now they didn’t bother him at all. And that, more than anything else before, scared him.

He felt that killer creeping up on him. The one killer he couldn’t stop cold.

Himself.

Fading in and out of consciousness on the edge of sleep, these were the thoughts of Tohno Shiki. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to have Arc hold him right now. Or Len come and sit beside him. It was a weakness, but we all have such. And right now, he was facing the one thing in life he feared the most, only half awake, caught in the fringes of a nightmare that would have done Wallachia proud.

He didn’t notice it, at first. Something sliding into the western-style bed, so much like his own at the old mansion. Something cool to the touch, but growing warmer. He felt a comforting presence, something that chased the nightmares away. He felt an odd sense of peace come over him as slender limbs encircled him. It was as if his mind had conjured Len to comfort him, silent and reassuring, and he went back to sleep fully. It would be a long time before he would wake up.

Many hours later, the smell of something cooking wafted into his room. It seemed as if one of the others had started cooking. Since it smelled so good, maybe they had been cooking for a while. He didn’t really recognize the smell, but he did remember that Arihiko had said something about buying a cookbook, last night. Apparently, he had decided to learn some new dishes. Something about things that didn’t need carrots.

What ultimately got him up, though, was a lot less pleasant than he was used to.
“Hey, Shiki!” Heavy footfalls in the hallway.
“Seriously, dude. It’s time to get up. Even I don’t normally sleep this late. Well, at least unless it was a good night, anyway! Ahahaha! Come on. Up we go!”

And the warmth binding blankets were ripped away by a loud ogre.

“Huh!? What the hell!? Shikiiiiiii!” Ok. He was awake.

And stuck.

Looking down, there was a tiny girl latched onto his chest, arms wrapped around his chest, legs wrapped around his waist. Ok. It looked really bad. At least she had clothes on though. Had Len followed him? She could change shape, after all. Changing the shape of her ears, turning her hair brown, darkening her complexion a little… Ok. No. It wasn’t Len. The girl clinging to him like a koala was definitely not Len. For one thing, she had slept through Arihiko yelling. And for another, she was chewing a hole in his nightshirt.

And that’s when he realized it. He knew someone who had looked kind of like this… And that outfit was all too familiar…

“Uhh. Shiki. Is… that… Sacchin?” Shiki was thinking the same thing, but his eyes were still having trouble focusing.

“What? I heard somebody call my name?” A feminine, shudder, voice came from the door. SHIKI was standing there, though he, er, she looked like a blob of white and light purple at that distance. He really needed to see a doctor about his eyes. This was serious. It hadn’t gone away at this point, and the only things he could make out now were lines and dots. Wait, some of the dots actually looked kind of like… spirals? Had they always been like that? He was starting to wonder if he was really seeing the lines with better clarity as well…

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing with my slave!?” Huh?

SHIKI stomped into the room, reached onto the bed, and caught the Sacchin look-alike by the band of her skirt, heaving her off the bed by main force. Somehow, she had woken up the moment he touched her. Tossing her aside, she landed on her ass, seeming almost to bounce once, before drawing her knees up under her chin and sitting, back facing him. He thought he heard sniffling.

“Umm. Yumitsuka-san? Is that really… you?” The little figure twisted around to look at him, snaggle-toothed fang showing, crimson eyes welling with tears. But were they tears of loss, or joy?

“Tohno-kun… you remembered me?” It was almost painful to hear. “You do realize that’s not really his name, right? I’m the real Tohno-kun, okay? Call him Nanaya-kun, or something.”

“Tch. You’re more of a Tohno-chin now, anyway. I wouldn’t let it bother you, short stuff.” Arihiko’s as eloquent as ever.

Okay, okay. This needs to stop before it explodes.

“Umm, who’s watching the food?” “Hmm? Oh shit!” He realized Nanako had to be somewhere, but since she didn’t have fingers…

As Arihiko raced off to save whatever it was that was starting to smell a little scorched, Shiki found himself alone with a couple of vampires. Maybe that wasn’t the best decision.

“So, uh, what’s going on here, anyway? I know I summoned you, but how did she get here? And why is she tiny?”

“Hell if I know. I was under the impression that we were pulled from the Throne of Heroes, or something, to take part in a Holy Grail War. Whoever wins gets a wish. All we have to do is kill anybody that gets in our way, and we’re set. Of course, that means that every other Master is an enemy, so eventually, you’ll have to fight that idiot in there and his horse. But, considering you basically killed me, I’m not too worried. As for why she’s here? She’s my bitch. I turned her, if you remember. Well, she never got free of me. When I died, she became the new vessel of me, or would have if it hadn’t been you and that damn nun. So yeah, spiritual connection, all that crap. She’s eternally connected to me. If I get revived, she get’s revived. After all, she’s kind of like a Noble Phantasm of mine. Well, actually, she is one of my Noble Phantasms.”

His mind was spinning. What the hell was this? His brother was his sister, the girl that had had a crush on him since middle school looked like she belonged back in middle school, and now he was hearing about crap like having to kill his best friend. From a guy that eats people. And just what the hell was a Noble Phantasm, anyway?

“Hey. Did you guys buy any coffee? I’m fucking thirsty.”

This was not going according to plan.

He blamed Kohaku.

[MrTags]

Satsuki Alert Satsuki Alert Moe Level has increased to the red zone.

Release of Moe recommended all Moe valves to open.

MASSIVE MOE BLUURRRGGHHH!!!!

And he still blames Kohaku...

[ItsaRandomUsername]

By AZURA, BY AZURA, BY AZURAAAaaaa....

The moe epiness has returned in full force! Twelveseal, you are STILL my personal God!
I'm having a Cuteness Overload right now, this is SOOOO good.


I'm still looking forward to the Nanako/Arihiko epicness.

[Twelveseal]

I know, right? I keep wanting to make Arihiko and the crew the MC's. But I'm trying to keep it fair. Hell, I even wanted to add a good subplot for Shinji.

[Twelveseal]

Ultimate

It was an ocean of flames as far as the eye could. Rock boiled and frothed, and streams of noxious vapors and ash billowed into the sky, hiding the stars with hellish light and choking shadow. From one horizon to the next, beyond sight and mind, this place was hell. It was the beginning and the ending. It was beyond the scope of even young Dante’s childish imaginings.

Not one mortal soul could live in this place. Nothing could originate here save the most primal of elementals, those who were truly nothing but the will of the world given a semblance of life. This was a place upon which no life had stood. This was a place where no life could take hold, no sentience grow. It was a virgin world, untouched by the march of ages, a hell-world. It was complete. It was absolute. It was perfect.

Until now.

For Death had found the world.

The storm of smoldering filth parted before an alien terror, riven apart by a force from beyond. The roiling darkness parted like the red sea, revealing the light of the heavens. A terrible swirling took shape in the vile air, cooling it, calming it to stillness. The seething tides of molten stone slowed, turning to black, and then ash grey. It was the first scar, the mark on the body of the unsullied world.

It was proof or mortality.

It was the sign of the Crimson Moon.

Standing amid the law within the chaos, there was the form of a man. Perfect in very detail, surely, if this was not the first man, then it must be his twin or his model. Clad in nothing but a wetsuit, scarlet and white, the blonde-haired death rested his finely muscled body. He leaned against an odd thing. A surfboard.

It’s contours were as perfect as his own, but the model was strange. It was oddly long, and rounded. It was unlike the modern boards seen in human hands. No, this hearkened back to the original surfboards, mighty things upon which the greatest of kings rode. It felt as if it should have a throne upon it. Certainly, it was an odd surfboard. For it was not made of wood. Nor was it fiberglass. It was something else entirely.

It was power.

The board had been forged long ago, made from the pure spirit of the Moon’s Grain, the same force that had given birth to him. It had served him well for eons, riding the waves of his own world’s seas. It had cut the waves of countless worlds, be the water or acid, magma or condensed nitrogen. It had dominated the gulfs of space and time, overcome the whorl of black holes and cut through the glories of untold suns.

It had ridden upon powers cosmic, this might board.

And now, after so long loaning it out to another Ultimate One, the blood-red moon had finally reclaimed it. He could do no less. It was the best board in the universe. It was the Ultimate, this silver surfboard.

It was proof of just how serious he was.

No one had ever defeated him in anything. No one. Not one creature in the whole of the multiverse had bested him in combat. Until that man. Until Zelretch. And now he would prove what a fluke that was. That upstart… that impetuous little punk. Brunestud would eat him alive and screaming. At surfing anyway.

Immortality be damned, his jaw still hurt.

Fuck that. He hadn’t come here to wax poetic, anyway. He was here to dust of his old skills. It had been a long time.

For the first time, the strange, alien world rang out with the sound of words. Those who heard them would have thought them to be their own native tongue, no matter what language that was. “Let’s go!”

The bubble of sanity caved. The tide of chaos and doom rolled in. A silver board thrust forward as feet heaved against crumbling stone, shattering it to nothing. Flying forward, the oldest of vampires slammed the board forward, parting the tides of the world into a wall. Such was the power of the king. But would it be enough? He heaved himself into the molten tide, unharmed by heat and poison. Lava dripped off him like water as he rode up paddled up into the molten wall. A thousand feet and more, it began to curl, and the king stood up.

And he surfed.

It was a good idea to start small, but he didn’t have a lot of time. He’d practice a bit, and then move on to harder things. After all, it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot. And he would need every moment of hard practice.

After all, he was going to face the only person who had ever beaten him.

At anything.