Fate/Antiquity (IC)

[Dullahan]

Cuan Yugou
Day 0 - Afternoon (2/3)
Nishi Ward - Kikanbou Ramen-ya

Just kill her. This is the first thought.

(Grit teeth. Exhale. Sigh.)

There is a heaviness in the air here. A heavy scent, or something like a scent. Like the taste of metal, of blood, but infinitely more rarefied. He has noticed it; it was there the moment he stepped inside, perhaps a little earlier. It permeates. It is deeper than the off-camera din of the kitchen, the scent of peppers, cooking fat, a fine sourness, an acrid heat. He knows those things, true. But he knows something else. Some kind of inarticulate reminder. An omen. The effort to disentangle its content - to laboriously work it out into words and sentences with commas and other bullshit - is hovering at just beyond the limit of what he can be bothered with at this moment. It communicates, instead, wordlessly, in the wisdom of the gut. And the gut says - kill her.

Cuan Yugou pulls back the chair and sits down. The seat whines. Old wood. It's too small for him, but everything is. He looks down at the menu and barely reads it. He looks back up at the woman, who is ignoring him, and at her right hand, which is attached to her. Just kill her, he thinks. To himself. Obviously.

It is not altogether a bad idea. As far as he can tell. The appearance of this kind of thing was within the realm of "rational" expectation as far as the dàlǎo told him to expect it. And there are conclusions - he forces himself through this line of thought, grimacing - conclusions to be drawn, unshakeable judgements from definite facts. It is not a bad idea but it is not a distinctly good idea either. For one thing, he wants his feed already. The broth-scent is vaporous, hot and sour. A film of glistening fat slithers from a chopsticked hunch of noodles. And it's with a mild sense of disappointment, not surprise - a mild irritation, perhaps - that this obstacle has thrust its way between him and that. Speaking "rationally" there is nothing to be surprised about. But it irritates him. It exhausts him. It's a pain. This woman is - an eyesore. Just fuck off. Fuck - off.

(Think about it.)

Grinding teeth, as it were down to the nub. There are, the situation insists, two possibilities. (Now reading the menu again. Again. Twice, three times, scanning down its itemised list.) One displays the - what was it called? the curse mark, the seal - one displays this in a public venue. What does that? Something very confident or very stupid. Now elaborate on that. (Black pepper beef? That could work.) There can be no doubt that anyone remotely competent to hold those seals is to some degree aware that what has just walked into the restaurant is something, at the very least, marginally "immaterial." To say the least. And what is her response to this awareness? Nil response. Nil outward response. Therefore either a genuine lack of concern or a controlled outward appearance of such. What does that? Confidence is looking more likely. Confidence. Why?

Because - he winces, he pinches the bridge of his nose (a crunched hunk of cartilage) with his thumb and index finger - she has probably already "summoned."

(He exhales. Deeply this time. The restaurant seems to swell and palpitate.)

It would be more "rational" - and one knows, for sure, that the dàlǎo is paying him to be "rational" in a certain restricted sense - to allow her to make the first move. To observe and discern. Obviously.

Obviously.

Cuan Yugou pushes the chair back, stands up, steps over to the neighbouring table, pulls out a chair and sits down opposite the woman with the mark. He does this not as if taking a risk, but rather as if trying to clarify something - something he himself knows, but does not know.

"Don't look up," he says. Languid, careful, drawling. And then he whispers in Mandarin: <"Make one move and I pull your fuckin' lungs out.">

[Bloble]

Lysander Scriberis Archemiste II
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Nishi Ward - The Midnight Blue

Sarah's outrageous request draws a half-laugh from Lysander's stony face.

"I'm not handing over secrets that aren't mine to sell," he drawls, tapping his fingers against the wood. "Gramps would kill me. But a part-time delivery job sounds find. Going to be in town and walking around anyway."

"The question is..." He straightens his back. "What kind of favour do you think I'd need?"

And what kind of favour would the proprietor of the Midnight Blue be in a position to offer him?

[Steak]

Tanabe Shin
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 3/3)
Higashi Ward - Terada Cemetery

Shin wants to pull back when he feels the icy grip, but pushes on and gives his new partner a strong grip. He gives Assassin's words a nod, and a confident grin in agreement. Not the way he would've put it, considering how blunt his approach is to things. He can't shrug off the implication of being the grail war's boogeyman with Assassin, but there isn't going to be much way around that. Laying low and watching until the right time is going to be the only reliable tactic.

After their hands leave each other, Shin sucks on his cigarette some more, watching the Ghost as his mind relaxes as the atmosphere lightens up. He looks away to collect his things and the duffel bag, but looks back at Assassin when he begins to speak again.

"...But make no mistake, I shall fight and hunt for you, not with you. The opponents we face are of a calibre beyond mortal men. Your safety is most vital, you are now the lynchpin of my existence. Without you, I lose that which tethers me to this world."

This was a truth he was wanting to ignore. The letter mentioned it briefly, the bond he'll start to share with who he summons. He turns again, and sighs out another clouds of smoke, walking over to the bag on the ground.

"Remember that well, my Master."

"I'll keep it in mind. Might be good to remind me sometimes, though. Staying on the sidelines so someone else can do all the work just isn't my style. Just knowing you'll die if I die should help keep me in line when I want to get reckless." He eyes his cigarette, and tosses it onto the ground. He doesn't need it anymore for the time being.

Gathering up his duffel bag, he talks over his shoulder, "Just don't think I'm something too precious you can't work with. Use me, if you really need to. I just hope we can plan and work together, and not act like lone wolves." He nods over towards the dagger. "Grab it, if you want it. Don't think I'll need it anymore."

With that, he starts towards the way he came, back through the forest and towards the cemetery. "Do what you want, but I have a couple more things I want to do tonight. I wouldn't mind having the company."

[RacingeR]

Sanda Rakuin
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Minami Ward - ???

The house Rakuin was renting wouldn’t be called big by any means, but it could be considered spacious. Mainly, because it was mostly empty. In fact, when he had entered it, he’d found it in such a state of abandonment that he’d been forced to spend an extra bit of his funds and a bunch of hard work to make it inhabitable.

But that was why the rent was so cheap, and why he’d been able to acquire it with no questions asked. The landlady had given him a few odd glances, but she didn’t live in the premises, which was extremely convenient for him.

Even more convenient, there was some space between this building and any others in the surroundings, leaving it fairly isolated, and the neighboring house was empty and abandoned. He had spent some time making an escape route and had hidden some provisions over there in case he had to make a quick escape.

He had hesitated before deciding on isolation. Having mundane people around his base was its own form of protection, but… ultimately, what scruples he had left had won over his pragmatism, and he had decided to try and not involve other people in his mess.

And what a mess it would turn out to be.

The muscular monk sat in a meditative pose, his eyes closed as he meditated, a mantra being recited slowly and surely. However, he didn’t empty his mind, instead processing every bit and piece of information he had perceived during the day.

The police were involved in this war, one way or the other. That was the only conclusion possible going by what he had seen and heard today. They were too on edge, too prepared for trouble. In what capacity they were involved, he didn’t know, but too many of this Nakajima’s actions had been suspect.

He had to investigate that man at some point. This city’s criminal elements had to have information about any notorious police agent, and he knew how to find some of the more harmless elements: he had spent some time looking into it just as a basic precaution.

The scum of the society had a tendency to be somewhat pragmatic. If a two meters plus tall bald man with arms the width of their waists showed up and asked a few harmless questions, these guys had a tendency to answer. Well, that was for the future. Right now…

Rakuin’s eyes opened, mouth ceaselessly chanting the mantra, and they ran through the room, going from the few appliances he had bought, including the refrigerator holding most of his food and water (that he had conned from elsewhere, long story), and went to the hidden safe on the other side of the room.

It contained his savings, and one of two of his inheritances: a series of manuscript books about Buddhism and magecraft, some positively ancient. The Sanda family’s long inheritance condensed.

All useless. He had no idea of why he had retired them from one of the few safehouses his family had left and taken them all the way here. The lineage had declined to the point that not even he, as the heir, could use any of the principles and knowledge contained there. Maybe lineages that also used Buddhism as foundation could derive a principle or two out of them, but the rest was so interweaved with the Sanda crest that they were otherwise worthless.

Rakuin’s eyes suddenly became like burning flint, as determination burnt behind them. His chanting increased in intensity as he grabbed two objects enveloped in cloths with sacred markings written on them.

He retired the cloth from the first one, and beheld his second inheritance. An ancient stone, one that still evidenced the work of human hands, and that still emitted a sacred presence that made the room feel more peaceful by merely being there. The monk would never know how his forefathers had acquired it, but his father probably would never imagine that his son would finally find a use for it other than as an object of study.

The second object, a faded and old parchment, emitted a similar energy. Its acquisition had been a lot more recent, and a stroke of luck, as only by coincidence was he able to recognize what it really was. The magus Rakuin had swept it from had gotten too drunk and had bragged too much. Thankfully, he doubted they would remember much of that night, and in any case, they probably weren’t involved in the war. This parchment did have actual value as an artifact, but Rakuin knew it was frail, and wouldn’t survive the ritual. Shame, that, but this kind of summoning ritual was far from being his specialty and he needed all the help he could get.


He deposited both objects in the center of the circular, complex mandala he had drawn in the floor, and then his voice suddenly rose, as the words of the mantra changed, from the usual Hindu formula to now clear, recognizable words.

“O unenlightened ones.”

“Let silver and steel be the essence.”

Power rushed from Rakuin’s core and outwards, climbing through his throat and exiting through his voice, connecting and resonating with the circle. His prana thrummed within, like fire within a forge.

“Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall.”

Wind arose from within the circle. From nowhere, came the echo of empty voices, whispering and repeating the same chant, reciting the sacred word of the Buddha.

“Let the four cardinal gates close.

Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching the Kingdom circulate.”

A sudden glow. The mandala blazes blood red. The light bounces against the closed windows and casts a light upon the seated monk, making him look holy and demonic at the same time. The mark on his forehead blazes almost like the third eye from the legends.

“I hereby declare.

Your being shall serve beneath me, and my fate shall rest upon your sword.”

Rakuin’s hand throbbed with pain, as the back blazed, but the monk was accustomed to tormenting his own flesh in strenuous physical exercises, and the pain barely registered. The red mark jolted to life all of a sudden, three mandalas, one triangular within one circular within one square, materializing on the limb.

“If you submit to this will and law, obeying the sanctum of the Holy Grail, then answer me.”

Suddenly, the giant’s eyes burn. One of his arms moves from its meditative purpose, and grabs the staff resting against a nearby wall. With one gesture, the staff slams outside the circle, and the mandalas engraved on its surface blaze as red as the circle. His voice is now both a command and an oath as it trumpets on, making the windows vibrate with its potency.

“I hereby give my oath.

I shall attain all virtues of Heaven; I shall rule over all evils of Hell.

Come! Carrier of the holy word of the Buddha! Guide us towards Enlightenment and allow us to achieve Nirvana!”

And then, a flash of blinding, pure-white light...

[Elyrin]

What was she, really?

A Heroic Spirit. The hero herself, still existing out on the edge of the World?

A remnant of the person left behind? Would someone like her truly leave a remnant?

Simple data? A recording so detailed it could think and speak as if it were a real person?

A complete fabrication? A separate entity entirely, with no relation besides a borrowed name, who simply didn't know any better?

Dead or never-living as she was, could she really call herself █████ ?


-- she never asked any of those questions herself. Not even an idle pondering at a quiet time she had nothing else to think about. For her, the answers were unnecessary, and the meaningless questions could not even assert themselves over the silence. Unable to reach her, they would have to content themselves with the minds of other monks, other philosophers who sought answers still.


So in silence she would remain. Not in oblivion, for she was well and truly there. But in the silence of meditation, "contemplating" nothing with a "mind" not lacking thoughts, but having discarded them intentionally. In silence unbroken...

...until, one day, it was silent no longer.

"...hm?"

There was no lapse in her concentration, nor error in her technique. She had surpassed such things an age ago, if not longer. No, this sound, the resounding slam of iron to accompany a declaration, came from without.

"-ah."

She heard not the words, but the words were meaningless anyway. A declaration had been made, after all, and out in the "here" that was outside everything, that could only mean one thing.

The monk took a single breath. Inhaled, exhaled. Slowly, she uncrossed her legs, stood up from the lotus position she had held since the beginning, and opened her eyes.


Caster
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Minami Ward - ???


The light was almost like a star had fallen to Earth. Not simply bright, but overwhelmingly bright. Even the sternest sort of onlooker would be hard-pressed to stand firm without a momentary blink.

But all things in life are transient, and just as soon as it began, it was over. If that onlooker did blink, the display would have long since ended, and left no evidence of its happening whatsoever.

Except for her, standing there in the mandala.

She took a few moments to wordlessly examine the room she had been summoned in. The clearly poor upkeep of the building itself, and the feeling that everything in the house was all in this one room... but more than that, the complex mandala drawn on the ground, clearly the work of someone knowledgeable. And the "someone" in question standing before her.

"Ah, good afternoon, good afternoon!"

Taking her naginata and prayer beads in her left hand, she wasted no more time extending her right to the enormous man.

"If I am not mistaken, it seems a monk has summoned a monk. An auspicious opening day if there ever was one!"

The woman's smile was genuine, but the observant would notice her gaze was just a bit too intent. Not just awaiting a response, but watching for something more than words.

[SleepMode]

Zhang Canyuan
Day 0 - Evening (3/3)
Minami Ward - Near the Forest

It wasn’t hard to pick up the smell of fresh, dripping iron. A stinging odor that tainted the crisp, forest air. The creaking of metal cut through the nighttime ambiance like that of worn unoiled machines.
But neither scent nor sound could compare to the suffocating presence, a wave of tightening dread indicating something “beyond his league” stood before him; like a deer before a tiger, or of a faithful and their god.

Goosebumps ran across Canyuan’s skin, and the pit of his stomach dropped. It was rattling uncontrollably now. Hardly comforting signs, all things considered.

Heh, at least it means something was summoned. Now here’s hoping whoever it was won’t turn me into a bloody stain…

Blinking away the daze, the fixer squinted past the parting mist– —

— – And froze.

What stood before the man was a figure regal and ghoulish in equal measure. Clad from head to toe in blackened steel, its appearance reminded Canyuan of western knights. However, unlike their sleek and shining plates, the entity’s jagged armor clung tightly like skin and bone, with tattered cloth meager coverings. Rather than a stalwart warrior, this person(?) was more of a moldering cadaver. Its wiry frame a mockery of what once was, ravaged by time’s passage. A pitiful sight anyone would regard as ‘ugly.’

Yet, there is a dignity to the figure’s sordid state. An unspoken fierceness found only in the strong and the proud. An intangible grace clung onto jealously, no matter how much was lost. Perhaps it is precisely because of its very condition, the entity still stands firm in bitter defiance.

Indeed, once past its initial squalor, Canyuan would dare say the sight before him is beautiful—

Boy.

The specter’s curt greeting was all it took to snap the handyman out of his stupor.

Well met.

“A-ahh, right…”

Ah, of course. It must be that ‘Heroic Spirit’ Mitsurugi mentioned. His ally, a key player and his ticket to winning this 'war.'

“Pardon me, first time to all this, see.” Canyuan let out an awkward laugh. “Never was familiar with all this mystic crap.” Jogging his memory of the given notes, trying to recall the right terms. Lesse, lesse. Contracts, Servants, Masters, Command Seals…

Eeech, better acclimate later than now. He’s got a new arrival to greet, after all.

“With you being here and whatever’s on my hand, guessing the contract ‘tween us is set and put to stone, err…” Canyuan trailed off, then eyed the spirit’s bleeding weapon. If not the right guess, he prays the fellow(?) was not so easily offended from being misnamed.

“...Lancer, I take it?”

[Zurvan]

Assassin
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 3/3)
Higashi Ward - Terada Cemetery

The moment that Tanabe Shin turns his back on the spirit he summoned, Assassin's presence ceases to be. Blending once more into the shadows of the material world, having lost the sensation of an icy gaze watching closely, even the Servant's Master is unable to sense his familiar.

The site that housed the summoning is quickly cleansed, no traces remaining of the blood used to form the magic circle.

All that remains instead, is a lone dagger. A relic of the past, that no longer has any part to play. The story behind it too is best left buried in history.

Then accompany you I shall.

Now from within Shin's mind itself does the familiar voice speak. Another reminder of the fate-forged bond the pair now possess.

Worry not, My Master. You must remember, much as that you are what ties me to this plane, so too does that truth hold for the other Masters in this war. While their chosen champions may prove most fierce in battle, their summoners are much easier targets. There is no need to face these legendary heroes openly, when their enfeebled Masters are their biggest weakness.

Truly the boogeyman of this war.

A monster that could lie in wait around every corner, silently awaiting the perfect time to strike. Who's left to protect the mage when their Servant is already in battle? What's there to do when one's Servant and Master are separated, and the darkness comes for your soul?

As long as they are human, they hold within themselves weaknesses to exploit.

And Assassin at least, seems intent on exploiting such crippling flaws.

However, his own Master's safety comes first and foremost, and as such...

Ah, but if I may suggest a course of action, my Master. You should consider hiding the visage of our pact upon your hand. The world need not know of your involvement, secrecy shall be your greatest ally.

Another small piece of advice is gifted.

[Steak]

Tanabe Shin
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 3/3)
Higashi Ward - Terada Cemetery

Shin looks down at the back of his hand. He nods, and speaks out loud, "Got it. I should have some bandage in my car, should be easy enough to wrap up."

He continues back through the forest, not making much chatter with the new ghost looking after him. There are things he'd like to ask, mostly wanting more advice to prepare for the days ahead, but figures it can wait until the night is over.

Re-entering the cemetery from this side gave an odd angle overlooking the graves, but the place seemed deserted for the night. Shin opens his mouth to say what he's doing, but it should be obvious enough. The ghost can talk, so if he's confused, then he can just butt into his thoughts and ask Shin. Starting from this end, he may as well follow his normal path backwards....

Shin starts to visit some of the gravestones in a scattered pattern throughout the grounds. Some, he just gave a minute of silence standing near them before moving on. Others, he'll pull something from a pocket or the duffel bag he was carrying. A few hundred yen coins placed on a gravestone. Pouring some cheap sake from a bottle near another pair, taking a swig from the bottle for himself to share a shot. He lets out a sigh and curses under his breath as he pulls out a jostled, crushed flower for another grave. This could be the last time he visits like this, what a shitty last present.

Every so often, he glances at his shoulder, as if that's where Assassin's perched. Shin works his way from the back of the graveyard, all the way back to the front gate...

[Zurvan]

Assassin
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 3/3)
Higashi Ward - Terada Cemetery

---Silence.

Whether it is out of respect, disinterest or by simply being nowhere near the scene, Assassin doesn't interject or speak up by any of the gravestones. Instead all that remains is the sounds that nature provides, as well as the actions that Tanabe Shin himself undergoes. The clinging of coins, the ruffling of a bag, the muffled curses under one's breath.

In a way, it is almost a serene scene, were one utterly unaware of circumstances behind the situation itself.

As two killers stood alone in a graveyard, filled with names that hold little to no obvious correlation.

It is only at the final gravestone that the Servant's voice rings within his Master's mind once more.

My Master, your expression is conflicted. Are these the results of your marks, or are they connected to you by strings of worldly attachment?

...Was your face that easily seen through, or did this killer of men knew humans so eerily well that even the faintest hints were noticed without fault?

Even now this spirit formed as a miracle of magic holds no sensible presence in the world itself, but it is undoubtedly watching from somewhere. Eyes focused on the entire area, stalking any potential prey that may show its face. Or perhaps it was just in spirit form, conserving the magical energy until he needed to strike?

Impossible to say.

Do you require six more graves to be dug? The spirits of our enemies may never find rest, but their bodies may as well be returned to the soil of the land.

The only thing that can be said for certain... is that the road ahead will be another filled with death.

[RacingeR]

Sanda Rakuin
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Minami Ward - ???

As the light blinded him, Sanda Rakuin stood up.

Determination filled him as the ritual was finished, and he felt more than saw the presence within the room.

Now he was committed. No matter the outcome or however he ended up playing this, he was in this war. The time for hesitation had long passed.

It was time to meet his partner in this war.

“…”

Well.

She wasn’t what he expected, that’s for sure. Uh, a lot cuter. And were these dog ears? What?

“… Hi.” He answered to her enthusiastic greetings somewhat lamely as he recovered from his surprise. Dog ears. That was very unexpected alright.

… He kind of wanted to pet her now.

No, Rakuin. No petting the living weapon of mass destruction.

He managed to compose himself, the surprise disappearing from his eyes as he considered the Servant before him. Her hand disappeared in his when they traded grips, but he could feel her strength in the grip, and more than anything, he could feel her overwhelming presence.

She was not human. She was a Servant, a being much stronger than he could ever be.

Well, the dog ears had already ruled out the ‘human’ part, he guessed.

… He really needs to stop thinking about the ears and focus.

“Indeed, it is a most auspicious start!” He said, letting her hand go and straightening his posture slightly, his voice recovering its usual sonorous tone. “I am Sanda Rakuin. A wandering monk. May I know how should I address you?”

He had gone out of his way to summon her. Or rather, he had doubted his summoning capacity, so he had taken steps to insure he could give it his best shot. The dual catalysts and the altered chant had been designed for this.

Yet, Rakuin had indeed summoned someone that could perhaps be the most incompatible with him. After all, he knew he couldn’t fake it in front of the real thing. How things would go from here, it was up in the air.

It was not his style to proceed without a plan, but there hadn’t been much he could do to setup some sort of scheme, and in a way, he felt doing so would be more disadvantageous than anything else. He would have to improvise, depending on how things went.

That was why his gaze, too, was probing and intent. He needed to know as much about his Servant’s personality and attitude, as fast as possible.

[Elyrin]

Caster
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Minami Ward - ???


The two monks exchanged the standard pleasantries. A formal greeting, a firm handshake, and an inquisitive gaze. Not anything unusual for her... but of course, it only took her a glance to know neither party was really like that.

"Ahahahaha!"

Not that she was laughing at him. She wouldn't be that uncouth. She was laughing at the irony of the whole situation. The humble abode the two stood in, their words and demeanor, their clothing and equipment. It all looked right and proper to an outside observer. But it was clear to her, and no doubt to him as well, that the Buddha felt like having a laugh that day. Not a bad result in her mind, though.

"Ah, well, now that the usual greetings are out of the way, we can talk like normal people. I never could get used to all those formal proceedings. Such a waste of time. Imagine what people could get done if they focused on the important things instead."

The woman sighed, her ears(and tail) drooping like a dejected dog. But she didn't want to rain on the parade, and it was only a moment before she perked up again and got down to business.

“I am Sanda Rakuin. A wandering monk. May I know how should I address you?”

"My class should be fine. Caster. Best to avoid my real name even in private, so there's no worry about forming bad habits. Or unwanted observers."

The place looked lived-in enough to be a long term residence, at least for a monk. Was there a Bounded Field up? Not that it was likely for the pair to be found out already, but one could never know, and the chances would go up with each passing day.

"Well, best to get the major problems out of the way early, so I'll start: is this building going to be our base? I don't have any personal issue with staying on the move, but when it comes to fighting, I'm better suited to home defense than looking for a fight elsewhere. And, well, sorry for the bluntness, but this place seems to be in sorry shape. It is definitely going to need some work."

[mAc Chaos]

Hashimoto Arata
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Nishi Ward - Kagamihara University

"Sure, I'll give her the name drop. You're a regular at that bar, huh?"

"Hmm, I see," he muses while taking a drink from his green tea. "Something to ask about when I'm there."

It would have been better if he had some sparkling wine to go with this, but it can't be helped at a school.

“Ahahaha…” Quickly understanding that no amount of deflection could dissuade your curiosity, she nervously laughs. The expression on her face is all too clear—this conversation is like pulling teeth. Eventually, she seems to resign herself to her fate, finally piping up. “I ruined an arranged marriage. More accurately, I convinced them to follow their dreams.”

He almost chokes on his yakisoba when Tsukiko drops the revelation. A series of thoughts run through his head. Ruined a marriage? How? Did she...?

But it's quickly quashed by her follow up, explaining the true nature of her contribution.

What replaces it is even more concern. In a way that was even worse, for the magi families deeply rooted in the arcane traditions of generations. A single marriage suffering a lapse would be troublesome, but a triviality in the face of the weight of the family's inherited customs and ways. Children are raised and cultivated to follow in their father's footsteps, to become the standard bearers of the lineage and to carry on the research their forefathers handed down to them. Each generation is a link in a chain that extends far into the past and the future, and no single part of that chain has the right to disrupt and squander all the hard work of their ancestors and descendants. In the face of such heavy obligations, such conceits like "dreams" have no place under the shackles of the bloodline.

In that world, a marriage isn't just a union of lovers -- in fact, it's the opposite -- it's the assembling of two pawns, put side by side, for the purpose of furthering the grand goal of the family's vision. An arrangement is made with an eye towards each family's prospects, their social and political standings, wealth, and what benefits can be attained from the magical bloodline. In short, it's a business transaction: a deal made to further the long term future of the clan.

Then it's no wonder she got into such deep trouble and even had to leave. Interfering with the marriage wasn't just leaving someone at the altar, but flouting the calculated strategies of families who draw up plans to bear fruit since before the participants are born and long after they die. You are not an individual, but a creature subsumed under the banner of bloodline.

Nobody being pleased with her involvement is an understatement.

But then, why is it he found a smile coming to his face hearing such a tale, instead of the consternation that would be the trained reaction he'd always given at such flagrant short sightedness and unvarnished idealism? Yes, it certainly was foolish and reckless and a sign of willfulness.

Hearing all this, he accepts her attempt to close the issue; there's no need to press further. "Yes, it sounds like you certainly got yourself into trouble after all. But do you regret it? As long as you're proud of what you did, there's only your next footsteps to look ahead to."

“I figured everyone who’d end up here would be running away from the Association… Unless you’re the exception?”

He finishes another bite of the heavy, greasy noodles. Their delicious, sweet and savory tang is something he never tires of. Here in Japan, it's something he can enjoy wholeheartedly compared to what passes for such cuisine back home.

Tsukiko's words linger in his thoughts. Running away...? There are some things you can't flee, and can only take with you... even if they don't weigh anything, you can feel their weight.

"Running away? It's the opposite. There's something I'm chasing after. Though..." He pauses. "To chase after one thing means leaving other things behind."

In that sense... "It's the same with you, right?"

[Satehi]

Theresa Octavia
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Nishi Ward - Shopping District

“… if that was a joke, I don’t find it very funny.”

Theresa wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the sudden revelation that the girl she had thought was probably her only friend had secretly been planning on murdering her if things didn’t go her way.

Surprised, because she had never pegged Lumine as the type?
Upset, since her life was at stake?
Or perhaps pleased, since it meant Lumine was taking their goal much more seriously than she had initially expected…?

After a moment’s consideration, she decided upon the last one. Lumine had the right idea. Their plan involved countless deaths- if they succeeded, then in a handful of days she and Lumine would probably become one of the greatest mass murderers in history.

If what they were after was so valuable to them even against such immeasurable sin, then it was silly to be concerned about one or two extra fatalities.

And so, setting aside the fact that Lumine had casually mentioned she was planning on killing her, Theresa decided to respond to her friend’s resolve in kind.

“But I see your point. I’ve been slow, and considering what’s at stake, I see why that’s a problem.”

If the entire conversation up until now was all probing at Theresa’s resolve, then she was honestly impressed. Lumine had her completely fooled.

“I’ll be honest. I’ve never thought promises were worth much. Speaking from personal experience, it’s easy to lie as long as you know you have something to gain from it. But I was in the wrong here, so I’ll play along.”

Putting her decision into words, she continued.

“It’s a promise, then. We’ll destroy this world together or die trying.”

---

At night, the forest is quiet.

Not silence in the literal sense, for one can strain their ears, and perhaps hear the brush of a light breeze against the trees, the gentle slush of water against stone, or the tiny hum of insects. But they are all natural in origin- for this far away from the city, there are no unnatural disturbances. The forest may not be literally silent, but it is free of noise.

For Theresa Octavia, such an environment was ideal. The atmosphere was calming, in multiple respects.

That said, she didn’t just come here for a stroll. Even if she felt more at ease, she knew enough about what was happening to know that there were risks to going too far away from civilization. That was why she had purposely stopped here, a fair distance away from any human eyes, but close enough that one could still see, between the leaves and branches, a faint light that belonged to the nightlife of Kagamihara.

As for why she was here despite those risks, it was simple. Theresa was here to make good on her end of that promise, beginning with the most crucial step-

- summoning a Servant.

Truth be told, Theresa felt quite nervous about this step.

When one imagined a Servant, they typically thought of legendary heroes- figures whose great deeds had left their mark in human history, immortalized in the form of story and legend. She had a hard time imagining that her ultimate goal would at all align with the interests of such a figure. Whereas more ordinary Masters might be able to get along with any Servant, united by their simple greed for a wish, Theresa imagined her desires were a little too much to accept.

That meant she only had two choices. Either keep her Servant in the dark about her ultimate goals, or hope that whoever she had summoned had no particular lost love for humanity- an Anti-Hero, of sorts. Neither option was particularly appealing, but such was her fate.

How things would proceed depended quite carefully on who she would summon, and unfortunately, she had only one shot at the right match.

Her catalyst, her one means of controlling this fate, was hardly of any help. A warped fragment of metal. It was impossible to tell what it was originally a part of, for it was distorted beyond recognition by immense force- but its age and durability guaranteed it was tied to some powerful legend.

And above all else, power was the one thing she required to win this war. Since there were no better options, she had gone with this.

“Fill, Fill, Fill, Fill…”

It wasn’t completely reckless, she thought as she began to chant for the summoning. The grail was said to pick those who matched with the character of the summoner. All she had to hope for then, was that such a figure existed for her.

“――――I announce.
Your being shall serve beneath me, and my fate shall rest upon your sword.”
“If you submit to this will and law, obeying the sanctum of the Holy Grail, then answer me.”

Not that she could imagine what that would be.

“I hereby give my oath."
"I shall attain all virtues of Heaven;
I shall rule over all evils of Hell.”

A burning sensation manifested on her hand, crimson marks taking shape.

“You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！”

And, as the chant finishes…

[palad1n]

Waiting.

She was used to waiting.

The majority of her life was spent on waiting.

And when the wait ended, everything began and ended in a blink of an eye.

To be honest, sometimes it didn't feel real, like everything was but a transient dream. Sometimes, it felt like she had never stopped waiting at all, not even for a single moment; that from the beginning to the end, her fate was to wait, wait and wait until the end of time.

Waiting for something to happen.

Waiting for someone to call for her.

Somewhere along the way, she thought that perhaps her fate had come to a halt; that that day will never come.

Until she heard it.

A faint voice.

Someone is calling for her, and she could feel her fate starting to turn in response.

The wait is finally over.

Wordlessly, she stirred.

And answered the call.

Berserker
Day 0 - Night (Phase 3/3)
Forest

The moment Theresa Octavia's chant was finished, a bright light flashed through the forest like a miniature sun.

It lasted only for a few moments.

When the light fades, a person is on top of the summoning circle on all fours; she is a petite girl with long brown hair, wearing a white dress and a red cloak. What makes it clear that the girl is not human, however, is her amber eyes that glows even in the darkness of the forest, a pair of unmistakable canine ears on top of her head, and a bushy tail; not only that, small chains dangles form her person, and a pair of what seems to be giant collars hugged her form...

For her part, the servant took a few moments to bask in her surroundings; the smell of grass and nature is familiar to her, but it was the faint light and noise of civilization coming from a fair distance away that took her interest the most. However, no matter how much the urge to explore the city burns within her, she knows that she is not truly free, for she could feel a connection with the pink-haired girl wearing blue.

Her master.

She hopes she is a nice master...

Her eyes then landed on a warped fragment of a metal on the summoning circle - the catalyst her master used to summon her - and recognizing it for what it is, she gently took the metal into her right hand as she stands up, caressing it with her fingers before she turned her attention to the pink-haired girl.

The servant, even at her full height, is shorter than her master.

"Servant, Berserker... I hope we can get along, master."

[I3uster]

Reinhold Dietrich Presper
Day 0 - Evening (Phase 3/3)
Nishi Ward - Presper Residence

Compared to the humidity that seemed to fill the room just seconds ago, the air now felt arid and stagnant. It wasn't that the ritual had dried it out, it was simply that the inborne sensitivity to prana that a magus could draw could not occupy any regular "sense". As such, my body simply tried using the senses it had to tell me something it otherwise could not.

This room was basically sucked empty. There were few times in life I had experienced this sensation, and it was always, in a sense, a privilege. It meant that whoever I acocmpanied in that particular moment could command the ambient energy to such a degree that they would absorb it almost entirely. For me, there were only scraps left.

But in this case I did it. Or did I?

As the flashing lights subsided and my eyes once again adjusted to the darkness, the answer to my question presented itself in all its glory.

I had nothing to do with it. I was simply a mechanism to bring something awe-inspiring into the world. Something that should not, or at least no longer be.

What made these wars foolish was not that they were not impressive pieces of work by their conductors. The craft involved far exceeded anything I could assemble by myself. Even with massive assistance creating such a system would mean a drain of time and resources that it would consume the rest of my life, and maybe that of a successor.

What made them foolish were three things.

First, it was unseemly for anybody of regular status to go into an honorless free-for-all to get murdered by whatever street rabble got their "invitation". Generations of work were erased for nothing but a slim chance of success, not in a show of skill but sheer cravenness.

The second was that the success was slim. These were quite ostentatious showings, and as such attracted many outside stakeholders (the worst of them my dear friends at the Holy Church). A winner was never a winner, even should they at the end of the day stand upon the ruined corpses, burying with them generations of knowledge the Clock Tower could not afford to lose.

And the third was the most obvious one in this very moment.

It was playing with forces we could not hope to control.

What worth is a leash on a lion? Three pulls were all I got.

His nude figure stood before me. It seemed as if every spot of his body was chiseled from marble, a lifes work of a master craftsman. But what terrified me more, was the sheer pressure the man seemed to exude on his surroundings. As the initial shock wore off, a keen awareness of my own fear hit me. I realized that my heart had been racing this entire time, its beating drowning out almost everything else. The oldest of all decisions laid before me: fight or flight.

As much as I wished, I could not do either. I was simply frozen in place.

"Hahaha HaHaHa HaHaHaHaHAHAHAHA! YES!"

His bellowing laughter snapped me out of it. Why would I run? These were the spirtis that I've cited. If nothing else, leaving would be rude.

As if to squeeze the dry room of its last traces of prana, the man adorned himself in golden clothing.

"Rejoice. For you have summoned the One, True God of this World."

In this moment, I would not dare to correct his assertion. He had barely lifted a finger, and yet to any magically adept person the man's presence itself was a statement. And yet, still, I had to assert myself in the moment. In the end, I was here for a reason. I could not get lost in the specifics.

This was a familiar.

"I hope God does not mind the Devil's contribution."

I raise my palm. A command seal was prominently displayed.

"You may address me as Master. I am the one who called you."

[Satehi]

Theresa Octavia
Day 0 - Night (Phase 3/3)
Forest

Theresa had a vague sense of what she expected from the summoning.

While myths were not always accurate, gauging off the single Servant she had seen before, she had expected a rather standard heroic figure- tall, probably male, a strong personality of some sort that was hard to get along with- only natural considering they were figures of legend, being called to do the bidding of much lesser individuals. It was a rather vague outline, but she felt safe in this expectation.

The figure standing before her fit none of those criteria.

She wasn’t sure what to think.

Servant, Berserker... I hope we can get along, master."

“Likewise, Berserker.”

Regardless of her physical appearance though, the mere fact that the figure standing before her was a Servant guaranteed that her power was much greater than her appearance may have belied- not to mention the fact that she was Berserker, a class known for mad strength.

“I’m Theresa Octavia, the Master who has summoned you. I’ll be counting on you in this War.”

No, after a moment’s thought, the power of her Servant was not a question to bring up at this point. It was too late to consider- the cards had been dealt, and how powerful Berserker was, was a fact she would have to figure out for herself in the coming days.

Instead, the most pressing concern was the one she had before conducted the summoning-

- the problem of getting along with her Servant.

That was something that was entirely in her hands.

She had run through a couple ideas before this moment- if the Servant seemed like a warrior who enjoyed fighting alongside good company, then perhaps a handshake would work- establishing a more equal relationship, and if they seemed the more overbearing type, some more deference on their first meeting would work… but this did not fall under any such categories. The fact that she was Berserker made Theresa rather cautious to approach her in any way- that was a class reserved for mad warriors, and she knew not what type of insanity afflicted the person before her.

But there was one thing that stood out that she wanted to check right away, even if it may not have been a great idea. It was something that would greatly shape their interactions to come, after all.

“… Forgive me, if this is a sensitive topic, but you…”

Staring more closely at the girl's upper features- namely, the ears…

…Theresa continued.

“… do not appear to be human. Am I correct in that assumption...?”

[palad1n]

Berserker
Day 0 - Night (Phase 3/3)
Forest

“I’m Theresa Octavia, the Master who has summoned you. I’ll be counting on you in this War.”

'Master is counting on me. She said she's counting on me!'

Trying her best to behave and not get too excited, Berserker nods vigorously as she commits the name of her master to her memory. A master counting on their servant might be par the course, but Theresa not only voiced it out loud, she is also being polite about it, which makes it more and more likely that she's a nice master that she could get along with...

She then noticed that Theresa is staring - specifically at the top of her head - and her ears twitched almost on reflex.

“… Forgive me, if this is a sensitive topic, but you… do not appear to be human. Am I correct in that assumption...?”

"Oh... I'm not a human, yes. I just... like taking a humanoid form, though I never managed to fully hide my ears or tail..." She said quietly, touching her ears while her tail swish nervously.

Is this going to be a problem? Does Theresa prefer having a human as her servant?

Will Theresa abandon her...?

Fear gripped her heart, and--

"U-um, but I promise I'm pretty strong! No, even stronger than most servants!" She said hastily, looking around the area they're in before she moved to a pretty strong-looking tree, far faster than any normal human ever could. The tree's trunk itself is thrice as thick as Berserker, certainly capable of withstanding much force...

And yet, with a casual thrust of her hand the tree was toppled like it was made of cardboard, crashing into the earth with a loud noise and startling nearby birds into flying away.

Berserker, for her part, reappeared before Theresa an instant later, her expression a mix of trepidation and anticipation; it's easy enough to see that the servant is hoping to get praise, perhaps even a gesture of physical affection for what she did, while at the same time preparing for the worst if her tail being tucked between her legs is of any indication.

[Katie]

Lysander Scriberis Archemiste II
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Nishi Ward - The Midnight Blue

“Most of the nitty gritty magic business happens under the roof of this very fine establishment. And while I would never give away a customer’s secret, I am well connected,” Sarah says proudly, eager to brag. “Though, the main draw is that I’m willing to sell anything that you couldn’t buy in Japan.”

On cue, she fishes around for something underneath the counter. She pulls out a dazzling sapphire, the brilliance telling you all you need to know.

“I guess it’s better to say I’m a collector of anything interesting. Out here is a bit more wild west, so I’ve managed to get my hands on interesting stuff. Plenty of magi have come to Kagamihara to hide, but they’re not too good at it.” There’s a certain sparkle in her eyes as she talks about reselling people’s hard earned research, taken by who knows what means.

“Don’t get sucked up in her scheme of a pawn shop,” Kasumi pipes in, sounding exasperated. “One favor leads to another, and you’ll be down in both dollars and sense.”

“And where do you expect me to fund your gigs, hmm? Maybe the concept is alien to an artisan like you, but even though money can’t buy happiness, it sure can buy the means.” Kasumi scoffs, but gives you a concerned look that screams “put some real thought into this decision.”

“Anyway,” Sarah continues, “If you’re not digging into materials, there’s information for anyone I don’t deal business with, maybe a small loan if you need a little help greasing the wheels. I can do little, or I can do a lot. All up to you.”

Cuan Yugou
Day 0 - Afternoon (2/3)
Nishi Ward - Kikanbou Ramen-ya

<"Make one move and I pull your fuckin' lungs out.">

<“Oh?”> The Master looks up from her food in defiance and regards you with an amused smile. If anything, your brazen approach has only seemed to excite her, as her smile widens with a distinct sense of curiosity, like a chef wondering what to do with their ingredients. <“It’d be lovely to see you try.”>

Her amused laugh is grating on your ears. Though her body language is relaxed, you can see the way her shoulders tense slightly, as if preparing to defend herself.

<“Really, isn’t there a certain propriety to how these battles go? Awfully uncouth to start a fight in this establishment. People are enjoying themselves, trying to make a living. It’d be a shame to turn it all into dust.”> Her tone is at odds with her words, flippant and unconcerned.

<“You didn’t travel from the mainland to have your life end in an instant, did you?”> she offhandedly tacks on, all too clearly watching for your next move.

Hashimoto Arata
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Nishi Ward - Kagamihara University

Tsukiko softly smiles at your words, though she looks a bit taken aback. Her perception of you was probably a bit old-fashioned. Not many Lecturers would possess more modern sensibilities.

“I—No, you’re right. We’re both in the same boat, then. Running after things without a thought in the world.” She sounds resigned, but not disappointed. More relaxed now, even. “Still, you didn’t strike me as very whimsical… Something put it all into motion?”

Her curious gaze tries to pry out all the answers from your face, but in the end, there’s no conclusion.

“And, er, thanks. I thought I was satisfied with my own decisions, but hearing someone else validate them… It’s a lot more comforting than I realized.” You can hear the buzz of Tsukiko’s phone in her pocket, and she awkwardly fishes it out of her pocket, her good mood turning into an annoyed frown the longer she spends staring at the screen.

“Ah, sorry. Seems like someone forgot to bring something outta storage and I’m the errand girl. Catch you later?”

[Bloble]

Lysander Scriberis Archemiste II
Day 0 - Afternoon (Phase 2/3)
Nishi Ward - The Midnight Blue

Lysander watches quietly as Tenevere gives her pitch. Slowly but surely, a satisfied grin spreads across his face as she speaks, and by the end he is nodding along and shaking his head.

"You're shameless," he says finally. "Breath of fresh air compared to the swindlers back home. They'll sit you down for a glass of wine in their office, explain just how much a passing grade costs, then charge extra for the drink."

The student digs around in one of the deeper jacket pockets, eventually finding what he's looking for. He proceeds to deposit on Sarah Tenevere's countertop an entire fistful of irregularly-shaped gold nuggets the size of rice grains.

"Offering up jewels first. Sly." Lysander says, his own eyes mischievously sparkling. He reaches out and taps a finger against the sapphire. "Did you get this from an Edelfelt? Figures they'd butt into this. As for materials, you might've heard Geology and thought of those prats that show off with pricey gems. I'm not as picky. Always dirt around, and a wealth of good metals lying in it just under the surface. An hour's walk picks up a few grams each time."

With his monetary situation revealed, the magus turns to pondering what he might buy with the gold. While he talks tough, it is in fact most of his savings.

"Take some as payment for the snacks," he decides after a moment, separating some grains from the pile before scooping it back up. He taps his fingers on the counter. "Names is a good start. You gave a good summary of the major players in town. I'd have that expanded. Those here a while and those just arriving, what they're looking for, whoever you're willing to talk about. Information is worth its weight in gold, literally in this case. I can return tomorrow, should you like time to put together a proper dossier."

[Dullahan]

Cuan Yugou
Day 0 - Afternoon (2/3)
Nishi Ward - Kikanbou Ramen-ya

A mild headache builds, pressure massing at the temples. The ramen-ya partway dissolves into background. An interior jungle populates itself with inhuman wildlife. Bundles of qualia strain to keep themselves organised. Hardness of a table's wooden surface. The inwash of voices and thermal-electric hum from the kitchen. Scent of hot broth. This is irritating. He may have just fuckhoused any possibility of getting his lunch here. Partially, of course, he is not surprised. Possibility slipped cleanly and seamlessly into actuality and now he has escalated the situation. A faint inner "rationality" is scolding him for being so rash. Another such "rationality" is making the case for the incoherence of the former. Follow that chain of deductions back far enough and you find - what? She - opposition - whoever she is - was aware of his approach to this shop and decided, in that awareness, to remain here. Meaning what? Meaning she has "chosen" this confrontation. "This" confrontation? Not necessarily. She has "chosen" - in "rational" terms - a confrontation within specified limits. She has made that calculation. Probably he, Cuan Yugou, has just escalated the situation into that bracket. Fair enough. But de-escalation is not his forte. And he does not feel like de-escalating. His instincts are opposed, and they're usually pretty good. But more importantly she displays the wrong "attitude." She has not - this thought sticks out at him like a splinter - "greeted" him properly. So fuck it. Escalate some more. Keep on escalating.

<“It’d be lovely to see you try.”>

To be precise. The woman individually is unfamiliar. No-one he knows, even if she is from the mainland. She may not even be Chinese, by appearance. Her "look" is peculiar. But her "type" - such as it is - is fairly familiar. She is a bitch who thinks she's hot shit. Many such cases. The degree to which her thinking this is empirically justifiable - is yet to be justified. In any case he is not paying attention to her self-indulgent babble. He is watching her. He is noting the way she is moving, or not moving. Tensing. Ready for attack, or defense. There are too many variables here, which is irritating. How much she knows about him. Whether she even knows who he is in the first place. Whether she's a free agent or a proxy. How confident she is in that "contract" of hers, the "spirit", to protect her. All this is shit you have to deduce sitting across the table. He hasn't the patience for it. He cannot muster the patience for it. Perhaps he could, on a full stomach. But he does not. It is fundamentally annoying to him - he cracks one joint in the knuckle, then another in the opposite knuckle - that this human roadblock has thrown itself up at this early stage in proceedings. Fuck this, fuck her, fuck you, fuck off.

A taste of iron in his mouth. Heat in the chest.

There is one of the Thirty-Six Stratagems - he doesn't remember which, and in fact doesn't remember most of them - which goes like, "Beat the grass to drive out snakes." He likes that one. Even when impatient he likes that one. Because it always works. In a manner of speaking.

<“You didn’t travel from the mainland to have your life end in an instant, did you?”>

<"Sure didn't.">

And he punches her in the face. Hard.