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Thread: Golden Apple: A Fate/Apocrypha Oneshot

  1. #1
    超刻 Hyperreal Nuclear's Avatar
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    Golden Apple: A Fate/Apocrypha Oneshot

    Greetings and salutations. If you are annoyed/disgusted/appalled by my writing style/characterization/lack of coherent plot, I am sorry to say that I cannot self-terminate.

    Otherwise, please enjoy.

    >>========>

    The Golden Apple
    "Look, this is the fruit of fate. This glorious treasure once sparked the burning of Troy. Come closer if you wish for it."

    >>========>

    Atalanta ran around the dimly lit streets of the town of Trifas, the small buildings passing by her like a blur. She was tasked by her commanders to support their Berserker, Spartacus, in his suicide mission against the opposing Black Faction. Damn you, Playwright! Atalanta mentally cursed the utterly pompous cause of her current situation.

    The archer’s lion ears perked up, picking up a sound that came behind her. Horse hooves and clattering wheels. Must be a chariot, she deduced, nocking an arrow to her bow before spinning around and firing it.

    She was surprised (well, not really) to find that it is Achilles, the Rider of Red, atop the chariot.

    The smile painted across his ugly mug did not fade, even as he caught Atalanta’s arrow with his hands. “Yo,” he greeted. “Nice night for a relaxing stroll. The moon is out, the stars are—Woah!” he exclaimed, as Atalanta fired another arrow, which he dodged.

    “Has anyone ever told you that you are as subtle as a brick to the face?” Atalanta asked.

    “I’m afraid I can’t say,” Achilles replied with a chuckle.

    >>========>

    Make small talk. Got it.

    “So, what exactly are you doing here?”

    Atalanta glared at him with a look that said that is a stupid question which makes its asker even more stupid than he already is. Nevertheless, she sighed, and deigned his question to be one worth answering. “Shirou sent me in case Berserker needed assistance committing suicide.”

    “So, you’re like the second to Berserker’s disgraced warrior.”

    “Yes. But the real question is: what are you doing here?”

    “Well,” Achilles scratched the back of his neck as he scrambled to find an answer. “I was going to flirt with you a little…” Atalanta’s eyes pierced his invulnerable flesh like daggers. “But since you don’t want that, I guess I’ll help you with your Berserker problem!”

    Atalanta scoffed. “I do not need your help.”

    “You will. Listen. Berserker, I mean, Spartacus has this pain fetish, right? When he gets hurt, he gets stronger.”

    Atalanta nods. “The core of his beliefs, if memory serves.”

    “So what do you think will happen when he meets the members of the Black Faction, who, based on our initial data, are torture masters extraordinaire?”

    Atalanta flipped her hair in defiance to everything he just said. She looks so beautiful when she does that. “I can handle it.”

    “No, you can’t. Berserker will flatten you in less than ten seconds once he begins… berserking. And that’s not saying anything about the Black Faction’s Servants.” She still looked at him disapprovingly. “Look, if this is about you thinking I’ll steal your thunder by killing the other Servants, it’s not. I’ll be on the defen—”

    “This is not about that,” Atalanta said. “This is about you, arguably the most emotionally unstable man in Greece, flirting with me, a virgin huntress sworn to the goddess Artemis.”

    “Hey! I am not emotionally unstable!”

    “Oh really?” Atalanta’s voice gained a mocking tone. “Then what about the time when you dragged Hector’s body all around Troy when he stole your boyfriend’s armor? Sounds like emotionally unstable to me.”

    Achilles grit his teeth. He hated being reminded of the Trojan War. “Alright, fine. I’m not flirting with you any longer. But can we at least make small talk?”

    It took a while for Atalanta to nod. “As long as it is mutually inoffensive, it is alright.”

    “Great. But just so you know, Heracles was crazier.”

    >>========>

    “So, what’s with the ears? And the tail? Are those detachable or something?”

    Atalanta blushed. “O-Of course not. As for their orgin, well… After I was wed to Hippomenes, we… got turned into lions.”

    Achilles was shocked. “No. Way.”

    “Unfortunately, that really was what happened. But this is Greece we are talking about. Are you really surprised at this point? Now focus on the road. You might hit something.” Atalanta said, before speeding away.

    >>========>

    Without Achilles by her side, Atalanta finally raced along in silence. However, it did not take long before the immortal-bodied charioteer caught up to her, prompting her to ask her question.

    “What did it feel like, fighting in the Trojan War?”

    Achilles’ light-hearted countenance suddenly darkened. Atalanta, afraid he would have another anger spike, tried to calm him. “It is alright if you do not wish to answer.”

    “No, no! It’s not that… Well,” Achilles’ face lightened again, and Atalanta breathed a sigh of relief. “It was Hell, to put it simply. Men are screaming everywhere you look, swords and shields and spears clanging and banging and bashing together, and the scent of blood lingering in the air. And that was just for one day. Now imagine walking into that scenery for the next ten years.”

    Atalanta shuddered at the thought of such bloodshed. “Ares must have had a field day with that.”

    “Not just Ares. All the Olympians decided they wanted to play with their toys. All of them save Zeus took sides. Of course, the almighty father of the gods stayed neutral, which meant that he kicked the ass of whichever side was winning so the war would last for a decade.” He kept silent for a moment, before asking, “How about you? How did you feel during the boar hunt?”

    “It was a different kind of Hell.” The memories of that fateful hunt poured into Atalanta’s mind, and she remembers the boar that towered above the walls of Calydon like a mountain, and the streak of red she had made when she drew first blood.

    “I was the only woman at that hunt, you see, so I attracted quite a lot of attention. All eyes were on me, whether those eyes were filled with lust or disdain. Of course, that was nothing compared to the chaos after the fell beast died. I barely won the boar’s pelt through Meleager’s intercession.”

    “Do you have it with you?” Achilles asked.

    Atalanta nodded. “It is one of my Noble Phantasms. Maybe when we return to our headquarters I can show it to you.”

    >>========>

    As they made their way through a park, Achilles asked, “Atalanta, what’s your wish?”

    “My…wish?”

    “Yeah. Every Servant has a wish for the Holy Grail, which qualifies them for being summoned.”

    Atalanta hesitated. “It is a silly wish.”

    “Tell me anyway.”

    Atalanta sighed, nonchalantly dodging a tree root. “If the Grail were to ever fall into my hands, I would wish for a world where children can be raised with love. There. I said it. Are you happy?” She looked over to Achilles, who did not wear the jeering smile she had expected.

    “That’s not a silly wish.”

    Now Atalanta was surprised. This man was one she had dismissed as a shallow idiot, and yet he could say, with a straight face, that her wish was not stupid. She had not detected that Achilles’ responses were increasing in complexity, one more profound than the other. Is this the power of the monster called “small talk”?

    “Elaborate.” Just to be sure he is not ingratiating himself to me.

    Achilles cleared his throat. “In the first place, why would you stake your life for a wish that you yourself dismiss as stupid? Also, I know where you’re coming from. We hail from the same lands, after all. Between the two of us, we know that Greece isn’t exactly Paradise for kids, and Greek parents don’t exactly make the best role models.”

    Atalanta nodded in assent, processing the information she got from his answer.

    “So, did I answer your question?” Achilles asked.

    “More than that, actually,” came the enigmatic answer. So he is not the idiot I thought he was.

    >>========>

    “How about you? What do you desire from the Holy Grail?” Atalanta asked.

    Achilles held a finger in front of his lips. “That’s a secret.”

    He smiles playfully when he sees her scrunch up her eyebrows and pout. “But I have this, well, for lack of a better word, dream I want to fulfill?”

    One of Atalanta’s eyebrows rises. “What is it?”

    “Well, it’s kinda silly but… I've always wanted to make a woman smile. I mean, really smile, you get what I’m saying?”

    “Eh? That is something easily achieved. See?” Atalanta’s smile makes his pulse race a bit.

    “I guess it’s something deeper than that. Every time I meet a woman, I make them feel bad. I made my mother angry across multiple occasions, I made Hector’s wife cry for her husband, and I personally killed Queen Penthesilea of the Amazons in the battlefield. I guess I just want to make a woman happy, you know? Make her feel that someone really does love her.”

    Atalanta considered all this before saying, “I believe that something such as that is fully within your power to achieve.”

    Achilles laughed nervously. Time to drop the bomb. “I know. That’s why I’m kicking myself trying to figure out why you won’t let me.”

    EDIT: The Enter key has been deployed. Hope it's more readable this time.
    Last edited by Nuclear; May 23rd, 2014 at 09:14 PM.

  2. #2
    祖 Ancestor Magus's Avatar
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    A somewhat humorous oneshot, and an interesting talk between two Heroic Spirits about their legends.
    Not Magus! Magic Emperor Magus!

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    What Magus said. It was definitely entertaining, though Achilles's wish is technically off, though it was a pretty good alternative.

    Achilles's wish, per Apocrypha Vol 3 is
    Vol 3 spoilers, read at your own risk
    To fulfill the promise he made with his mother; To live and die like a God. With a side-wish of wanting a conclusive fight with Chiron.

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    ジュカイン Lycodrake's Avatar
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    I like this oneshot quite a bit, but...
    >Hell
    Hades, you mean. They're ancient Greeks - Hel is Norse and Hell is Christian. It irritates me when people do this.
    And then there's "all the Greco-Roman deities are assholes" - Hades and Athena are the least asshole-ish.
    Quote Originally Posted by Seika View Post
    Yes, excellent. Go, Lyco, my proxy.
    F/GO SUPPORT

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    The Long-Forgotten Sight Rafflesiac's Avatar
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    The smile painted across his ugly mug did not fade, even as he caught Atlanta’s arrow with his hands.
    Atalanta's.

    It entertained, that's for certain.
    Quote Originally Posted by Arashi_Leonhart View Post
    canon finish apo vol 3

  6. #6
    超刻 Hyperreal Nuclear's Avatar
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    I was actually at a crossroads when using Hell, mainly because Hades is not all gloom and doom, something which Hell is. But I understand what you're saying.
    The "Greco-Roman deities are assholes" thing was what I imagined to be Achilles' view on them, because it's already been said that he has problems with authorities.
    If I don't get suicidally depressed at the quality of my writing in the next few days, I might write a Karna/Achilles bonding fic.

  7. #7
    Preformance Pertension SeiKeo's Avatar
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    Use the enter key.
    Quote Originally Posted by asterism42 View Post
    That time they checked out that hot guy they were just admiring his watch, yeah?


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    Dapper Deathwing YeOfLittleFaith's Avatar
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    This was an entertaining little thing!



    Quote Originally Posted by RadiantBeam View Post
    Not my fault Shirou is an awesome bro to lesbians.

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    Master of Hermione Alter Kieran's Avatar
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    Very cool - as an amateur classical scholar, I approve!
    “Love will be cruel to who it entices — love will have its sacrifices.”

    — Carmilla Theme




    "Evil isn't the real threat to the world. Stupid is just as destructive as Evil, maybe more so, and it's a hell of a lot more common. What we really need is a crusade against Stupid. That might actually make a difference."

    ―Jim Butcher, Vignette




  11. #11
    闇色の六王権 The Dark Six Imperial's Avatar
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    Achilles had a dim view of the gods, so I'm not surprised to see this story forwarding the "Olympian = asshole" thing when it's coming from his perspective. I'd like to see your stab at Achilles and Karna bonding over their invincibility.

    Nice little one-shot
    Last edited by Imperial; May 22nd, 2014 at 11:40 AM.

  12. #12
    Mate, that's noice as fuck! Vagrant's Avatar
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    Atalanta playing hard to get. Virgin my ass, those bear ears tell a very different story.

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    ジュカイン Lycodrake's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Vagrant View Post
    Atalanta playing hard to get. Virgin my ass, those bear ears tell a very different story.
    Lion ears and tail, dood.
    Quote Originally Posted by Seika View Post
    Yes, excellent. Go, Lyco, my proxy.
    F/GO SUPPORT

  14. #14
    Mate, that's noice as fuck! Vagrant's Avatar
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    I actually feel like they're relatively non-specific, given Atalanta's bear-related abilities and Artemis' connection with bears. I always considered them to be somewhat generic animal ears for the sake of animal ears.

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    超刻 Hyperreal Nuclear's Avatar
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    Thanks to your continued support (I hope), I did not go into a suicidal depression about my writing! Here is the continuation of "The Golden Apple". I hope you enjoy. Also: I own nothing.

    Discernment of the Poor

    “[The ability] expresses the power to grasp the true nature of the opponent possessed by Karna, who was blessed with the opportunity to inquire about the life and value of the weak due to being someone without a single relative.”


    ==============>

    Karna heard the clink of glass as he exited the sacristy of Trifas Chapel. The air inside the house of faith was slightly tinged by notes of wine.

    Someone has been drinking here, he thought.

    His suspicion was confirmed as his eyes lay upon Achilles, his fellow Servant, chugging away at a wine glass as he held its bottle in his other hand.

    “Achilles,” he began. “Why do you imbibe in this house of faith?”

    Achilles waved his hand dismissively. “None of your business.”

    In spite of Achilles’ rude dismissal, Karna sat beside him. While it would have been suicidal to sit beside a drunken Achilles, Karna was not afraid because it was a certainty that he could beat him.

    In spite of everything, Achilles looked fine, despite nearly finishing the bottle of alcohol, as Karna spied. He looked the same, and aside from the smell of wine in his breath and the slight tinge in his face, he took to alcohol very well. A fact that troubled Karna.

    So, in order to engage his seatmate into meaningful conversation, Karna snatched the wineglass before Achilles could fill it. When Achilles complained, he simply replied, “Why use a glass, when you are fully capable of drinking from the bottle?”

    Then Karna snatched that away, too.

    The result was a very disgruntled Achilles, whose full attention was now fixed at Karna.

    “Tch. Now I know why everyone fucking hates you,” he muttered.

    Karna set the glass and bottle beside him and out of Achilles’ reach. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

    “It’s customary for us Greeks to hold a celebratory feast after a victory.”

    “Then why do you look as if you’ve lost?”

    The question appeared to have rubbed Achilles the wrong way. “Then what would you have me do? Fight a fucking war? Huh?!”

    “For your information, we are already fighting a war,” Karna answered. “And no, I would not have intervened in this matter until Atalanta asked me to.”

    That seemed to have stilled Achilles’ wrath. “She-She did? Why? Wait—why you, of all people?”

    “She feels that she cannot confide in Assassin or Caster or Shirou about this, so she chose me. So, care to explain what happened?”

    And explain Achilles did.
    ==============>

    “… We didn’t talk for the remainder of the trip and she hurried off, and then I got into a fight.” Achilles breathed deeply after the last sentence.

    “A fight? With whom?”

    A smile slowly crept across Achilles’ face. “The Archer of Black. Or should I say, Chiron, my mentor. But please don’t tell Shirou.”

    Karna gave a puzzled look. “Why?”

    Achilles looked his hands. "I-I want to fight him on even terms. As equals.” When he saw Karna’s puzzled expression, he said, “Sorry. It’s kind of a Greek thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

    “No, I do. Don’t worry. If Shirou comes to know of this, it will not be from my mouth.” Karna was reminded his own guru, Parashurama. The way he looked with pride as he presented his student with his own bow and quiver and his gaze of disappointment as he cursed that same student mingled in his thoughts, both engraved deep in his mind for all eternity.

    He turned his gaze back to Achilles and the present. “You said something about making small talk. What exactly did you talk about?”

    “Crazy stuff, like her tail, our… job qualifications, and our wishes. Things like that.”

    “Job qualifications? Did I hear that right?”

    Achilles laughed a bit. “You know, the stuff that makes us famous. Our legends. Which reminds me, I haven’t heard about yours.”

    Karna pursed his lips. “I—It does not end well.”

    “Tell me anyway.”

    And so Karna regaled—told, the story was too tragic—Achilles with the story of his birth, his childhood, and his training. Karna told him of the archery competition, of how he humiliated Draupadi, the woman with five husbands, and the beginning of the war. Lastly, Karna told him of how he discovered his heritage, how he had spared his four half-brothers, and how he was slain by his half-brother, Arjuna.

    ==============>

    When he finally finished, there was a moment of silence.

    “So basically, the entirety of your mortal life sucked.” Achilles bluntly said.

    “I suppose you could say that.” Another moment of silence.

    “Don’t you wish you could change that, though? Live your life again, do things differently? I know I would.”

    “Is that why you want to fight this Chiron person?”

    “Well, he’s more of a centaur, but yeah. I wish that I could live to the fullest, fight to the fullest, and die to the fullest. No regrets.” Achilles looked up to the ceiling, seemingly piercing the roof to gaze at the stars.

    “As for me, I would not change a thing.”

    Achilles shifted his gaze toward Karna.

    “Huh? Why not?”

    “Three reasons. First, the gods had already decreed that I would die in that war, so why change it? Second, if I had won, many things that are not, would be, and many things that are, would not be. Third, it would be a dishonor on myself and on those who have been part of my life if I were to, as you say, ‘take the easy way out’.”

    “So, you don’t have a wish.”

    Karna nodded. “Mine was a path of suffering and hardships, but I do not regret taking it. My existence today is simply for me to be of service to my Master.”

    “Who is currently not here.”

    Karna nodded. “Exactly. Which brings me to your earlier question. Atalanta does not trust those three enough to confide personal secrets to. She asked me to explain to you that while your advances on her earlier were untimely and out-of-place, she is now reconsidering her position on the matter. Please give her time to respond.”

    “Basically, she might be more open to me hitting on her.”

    “But not hitting her.”

    Achilles laughed. “That’s something I would never do.” He stood up and picked up the wine glass and bottle. “We should do this again sometime,” he said as he left.

    As Karna quickly turned off the lights in the chapel, he noticed that the scent of wine was no longer present.

    He left the chapel and chased after Achilles, a newfound question that would not go away occupying his mind.

    “Achilles, what is a centaur?”
    Last edited by Nuclear; May 23rd, 2014 at 08:52 PM.

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    Master of Hermione Alter Kieran's Avatar
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    . . . I'm finding these really fun. Which is a bit of a surprise, considering how (generally) unfamiliar I am with the characters - yeah, I've looked them up, but I haven't really given them or their source much thought. Maybe I should . . .

    In any case, I'll be the first to say it: more, please!
    “Love will be cruel to who it entices — love will have its sacrifices.”

    — Carmilla Theme




    "Evil isn't the real threat to the world. Stupid is just as destructive as Evil, maybe more so, and it's a hell of a lot more common. What we really need is a crusade against Stupid. That might actually make a difference."

    ―Jim Butcher, Vignette




  17. #17
    超刻 Hyperreal Nuclear's Avatar
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    Scream of the False Life-form, (Yet Another) Fate/Apocrypha Oneshot

    Just a friendly reminder that I'm not dead yet. This is an experiment, actually; I tried making a fic without any dialogue. Did I succeed? Please comment.
    Oh, and you can listen to this for extra feels: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCchXUlera4

    e==[======>

    Scream of the False Life-form

    “The Servant is capable of emitting an immense scream, temporarily robbing enemies and allies alike of their ability to think and respond; those who do not expect it or are incapable of the mental resilience to withstand it may temporarily lose their ability to breathe.”

    e==[======>

    It was a particularly normal day for Siegfried. Well, it certainly started out that way.

    He walked around the fortress of Millennia, as was his custom, though never too far from his Master’s quarters. He made it a point that he would stop and turn back once he had reached a particular copse of daisies that were being tended to perfection by the castle homunculi.

    It was on those walks that he noticed something… off about Frankenstein, the Berserker of Black.

    She regularly conversed with Astolfo, provided their Masters were both away (Siegfried noted Astolfo’s tendency to take talking to ridiculous new heights; their strange friendship being solid evidence). From what he had heard (not that he was an eavesdropper; Astolfo simply talked very loudly), they discussed nature, the outside world, and the beauty of life in general.

    Siegfried noticed the grief hidden in Frankenstein’s eyes, which, in turn, were hidden by her hair.

    Though her face lit up whenever Astolfo cracked a joke, the sadness never truly left her.

    Siegfried decided that there was a need for investigation.

    e==[======>

    Siegfried walked briskly towards the castle library, incessantly excusing himself for breaking his vow by reasoning that the daisies were on the castle’s west wing, while the library was at the east.

    The library was vast, and the shelves chock full of books seemed, in his view, to be the massive pillars supporting this part of the castle.

    He approached the homunculus librarian and asked for a writing pad and a quill (Siegfried might have asked for a fountain pen, the only other acceptable writing implement in the castle, but he could never quite figure how those damned things worked), a request the librarian granted, though not without a strange look.

    On the paper he wrote Frankenstein’s name in his most legible script and showed it to the librarian. The homunculus nodded and motioned for him to follow.

    When they reached a certain shelf, the homunculus reached for a book and handed it to him. He then bowed and left. Siegfried inspected the book. It was very old, and the pages were barely held together by the spine. The golden ink used on the title had mostly faded, but the impressions left on the cover were still there. The title read:

    Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus
    by Mary Shelley

    Siegfried sat down at a nearby chair. This was going to be an interesting read.

    e==[======>
    Siegfried left the library with even greater determination than when he went in. He pushed aside all thoughts of regret in his mind, saving that for later when the deed was done.

    When he arrived in his Master’s quarters, he turned to spirit form and phased through the wall. After all, his Master could see him, even while in spirit form, so why alarm him further by opening the door?

    All of the rooms in the fortress of Millennia were larger than normal, and that of Gordes Musik was not an exception. Despite the vastness of the space that lay before him, Siegfried easily found his prize on top of his Master’s vanity (not that he needed one, Siegfried’s innermost being thought; the man’s hubris was absolutely massive).

    An ornate hand mirror, wrought entirely of polished silver.

    As Siegfried picked up the mirror, his reflection flashed into his eyes, and he saw himself for the first time that day. His hair was wilder than usual, and his eyebrows were furrowed into a seemingly unbreakable knot.

    Why was he doing this, anyway? Why was he taking such great risks for someone he barely even knew?

    Because he could, came the answer. The same reason he fought the dragon Fafnir. The same reason he aided King Gunther in his conquest of Queen Brünhild. Because he had power, and he chose to use that for the greater good.

    He tucked the mirror away and went outside in search for the next component of his plan.

    Siegfried looked around, in any case anyone was watching. Well, anyone present who might be watching. Sensing the coast was clear, he walked as normally and inconspicuously as possible towards the copse of daisies. He picked a few good ones, taking care not to damage the stems in order to make what he had in mind: a small wreath, intended to be placed on the head like a crown.

    When Siegfried thought that he had picked enough, a problem struck him: this was going to be easier said than done.

    Then again, who cared? This was for a worthy cause, and weaving a daisy chain should be no harder than slaying a dragon, right?

    It turned out that Siegfried was wrong on so many levels.

    e==[======>

    The wreath was, several lifetimes later, finally complete. Now all Siegfried needed to do was lure Frankenstein here. That, at least, was a piece of cake.

    Seeing as he could not sing to the birds (as that would be breaking his vow), Siegfried opted to whistle to them instead.

    He worked up a jolly tune, and, almost immediately, a small flock of birds perched before him and awaited his command.

    He asked (animals are more inclined to do your bidding when asked nicely) them to fetch a red-haired woman in white and a jutting horn on her forehead and bring her here.

    The birds flew away, and Siegfried stood up, hiding the wreath behind his back, as well as the mirror.

    e==[======>

    Frankenstein was rather alarmed at the sight of a flock of birds swarming in front of her. Though they were of different colors and breeds, they seemed to be united in a common goal, and that was pointing her towards the castle gardens. Curious, all Frankenstein could do was follow.

    Upon arriving, Frankenstein immediately noticed Siegfried, the Saber of Black, who wore a ghost of a smile on his face. He beckoned her to approach, and as she did the flock of birds that brought her here flew away.

    She now stood face to face with him. He took something from behind his back, and Frankenstein saw a flash of white. Siegfried then placed this object on top of her head.

    Then he brushed aside the hair that had obscured her mismatched eyes. The last thing Siegfried did was to place a mirror in her hands.

    Frankenstein was rendered speechless when she saw herself.

    Though there was nothing new to her appearance save the crudely made daisy chain resting on her head, that was all that mattered to Frankenstein.

    For her, a cyborg created by arcane science, all that she wanted, and all that she needed, was to be accepted. She wanted someone who could look past her imperfections and accept her as she was. But today, not only was her being accepted, but glorified, as signified by the crown that rested on her head.

    It made her realize that in the end, someone really did love her.

    She found a stray droplet trickling down from her gray eye, followed by another, this time coming from her gold one. And another. And another. That was the time the cyborg found out that she could cry.

    e==[======>

    Siegfried knelt before his Master, a gesture that signaled not only his deference towards his Master, but also a sign of his unrivaled pompousness.

    He knelt there for a long time, as Gordes started hurling insults at him, citing him as worthless, incompetent, and every other synonym for “useless”.

    Siegfried, meanwhile, was engrossed in his thoughts. He did not care how much his Master insulted his name, or how heavy his punishment might get. Seeing Frankenstein wear a smile of pure joy like the one he saw made everything worthwhile.

    He believed that, in some small way, he had saved her from her self-hatred.

    He believed that he was her hero.

    e==[======>
    So. This is quickly escalating into a collection of oneshots (what do you call those, anyway?) and I have no idea what to call it. Also, if you want to see a particular Apocrypha Servant pair interact, tell me in the thread and I'll see what I can do.

  18. #18
    Mate, that's noice as fuck! Vagrant's Avatar
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    Bombastic Shakespeare and rambunctious Astolfo. What grand tales they would tell each other.

    How they'd meet without killing each other is another matter entirely, but Shakespeare can disguise himself as other people so maybe they can hang together at a bar and chat without Astolpho realising who he's talking to.

  19. #19
    Master of Hermione Alter Kieran's Avatar
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    . . . Here I was trying to figure out how to ask you for a tale regarding my favourite Berserker, and you've delivered something beautiful, without my so much as whispering. Thank you very much.
    “Love will be cruel to who it entices — love will have its sacrifices.”

    — Carmilla Theme




    "Evil isn't the real threat to the world. Stupid is just as destructive as Evil, maybe more so, and it's a hell of a lot more common. What we really need is a crusade against Stupid. That might actually make a difference."

    ―Jim Butcher, Vignette




  20. #20
    超刻 Hyperreal Nuclear's Avatar
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    S'no problem! I enjoy writing these as much as you enjoy reading it! <3

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