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Schnee Corp Lawyer

STILL not over Birthright's ending
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
(If you know you know if you don't you don't)

[Tram platform]
"Obviously"

Leonhart answered Patience's query with an exasperated arch of her eyebrow before she glanced back out at the smattering of people making their way through the platform with a general wariness, not actually expecting another master to come out here so soon but likewise not so relaxed as to not keep a whether eye out as she continued talking. "Your group was the only one that was roped into this mess unwillingly; she signed up for this and came ready to compete if that rifle was any indication. Just pretend it was your brother she shot at and not me" she added with a sardonic frown as she accepted they were likely safe and glanced down to watch Patience fiddling with the menus.

There was a messaging system, but there weren't any names assigned to them; just numbers, going all the way from 1 to 1000. She saw a number at the top corner of her screen, a small 987.

Likewise, the button that was supposedly what she had to press to enter the FWZ was simple to find, always visible in the bottom corner for easy access, but pressing it didn't have the intended effect as a message instead floated across the screen.

'Error. Grand Opening Melee still in effect; entry not permitted for 18 more hours.'


"Looks like we're stuck together till they get out. Unless you think they get cell service in there" she added blithely. "But until then we should get somewhere safer than a random subway platform. Where in New York are we?" She asked. She'd spent some time here with Malleus during her training; if Patience was freezing up she was sure she could find somewhere safe enough till they could get their bearings and she could sort her thoughts on what she made of this whole mess. The important thing was getting as far from this building as they could;

As far away from the monstrosity that was still lurking on the other side of the dimensional fold.

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[Tram Platform; FWZ]

Em let out a quiet squeak as she was suddenly yanked away from the rest of the group, her shoes desperately trying to find purchase on the ground and failing as she ended up in Shiki's grip. Marcus cursed slightly and cancelled the resummoning process, the bits of Frieza that had started to form flickering back out of existence; Nothing like that to escalate the situation. "Hey man, I know we got off the wrong foot and all but there ain't no need for this, we can figure this out, but not if you just run off-"

That was as far as he got before the knife went to Emily's neck, and the young artist froze in place at the same moment as her best friend did.

"Stop" Marcus said, more forceful, a mixture of fear and protective anger swelling behind the tone. "Do not-"

Perhaps unsurprisingly to anyone, Shiki didn't listen to him, and Em let out a strangled gasp before they disappeared into the shadows.

"Shit!" Marcus hissed as he almost fumbled his MC in his haste and started to let Frieza back out before a voice came from directly behind the three still there.

"Is that wise?"

That a man so large and with such a presence when he wished it managed to get behind all of them, Shinoa included, with not a single hint to his approach seemed impossible, yet there he was standing, the usual smile on his face replaced with a slightly troubled frown as he adjusted his glasses to the sight of Marcus actually fumbling his MC out of sheer surprise.

"Christ, man, the fuck you mean?!" he hissed, whatever fear he probably should've felt at the priest's arrival subsumed entirely by this rush of protective anger as he grabbed his MC off the ground. "I know you're psychotic and all that, but I'm not just letting my best friend disappear into the fuckin ether-"

"You wish to rescue her, obviously. That is why I ask if your choice is wise. Lord Frieza is not... what one would call a savior, yes? Could you truly trust him not to catch your friend in the crossfire? More than that, look here-" he said, a large hand crossing over marcus' shoulder to point at what looked like a radar on the screen, where four dots were blinking in relation to where they were, and four more in the direction of the tunnel. "Miss Demagne and her wonderfully social servant are not the only competitors in the tunnel. Violent chase may be cause for disaster."

That at least got Marcus to pause, his finger hovering over the button that would unleash the galactic conqueror on the school again. "...Not like I got other options, right?" he snarled.

"Normally correct" The priest agreed with a nod "There is usually a ten hour refraction period after a servant is killed or dismissed before a new replacement may be summoned. However, consider it a.... favor, of sorts. A repayment for the trouble I've caused with my interference. After all..."

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[Class 201; FWZ]


It was very simple.

The two servants who had even a chance to notice had not reacted in time.

Both distracted either with the melee below or the sounds of combat that rang behind them. One moment Lucyfer was standing at the edge of the hole in the wall, and the next she was stumbling backwards with a look of mild surprise. There hadn't even been a chance to feel pain, so large was the bullet that passed through her heart as she fell backwards to the ground with a thud, glassy eyes pointed at the ceiling in an empty stare.

Yusuke could feel himself becoming lighter, his hands turning see through before his eyes in a twinkling flow of light, as if he was turning to sand and stars at the same time, a fated trip to oblivion with the death of his master.

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[Tram Platform; FWZ]

"it has already cost one of your classmates their life. And likely her servant's as well. Unless... you'd rather have him"

The weight of those words sat fell across Marcus' shoulders, heavy as steel. He didn't even know who it was, or which servant 'he' was, but someone he'd sat in the same room as five minutes ago was already gone.
The same thing might happen to Em if he didn't act.

"Fine." he answered, his tone short, mournful, and furious.

The priest smiled, and touched his MC with his finger; a golden light flowed through it and into the MC, and in that same moment, Yusuke found himself standing on the platform with the others, his form no longer splitting into nothingness as the priest removed his hand to spread his arms wide. "A new pairing, and a new chance for you both. May it prove fruitful-"

"shut the fuck up man" Marcus snapped before he grabbed Yusuke by his shoulders to look him in this eyes, his tone frantic as he shifted gears

"I don't know what just happened up there, but my friend just got kidnapped down that tunnel, you game to help?"
 
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[Rooftop, Reality Marble ; FWZ]


The grappling hook went slack a moment after it was yanked, the rest of the line flying upwards from suddenly being cut from below. Not a moment after, a figure flickered into the view, as if coming into focus like an old TV screen

It was a man in baggy military garb overlain with sleek armor, similar in design if on a much smaller scale to the robotic beast below. A helmet covered his head, with a thin, glowing blue visor crossing its front like an x and what looked like a small jetpack strapped to his lower back. A revolver was in his hand, the gun almost comically small for how large the bore was for its caliber as it levelled with Nobu’s skull-

And never fired. Whatever Nobu did in response, it passed harmlessly through the pilot as it flickered back out of existence the same way it came, an illusion or hologram-

*BANG*

A bullet that matched the calibre of the gun the illusion held suddenly ripped through Nobu from below, through the higher part of her leg and straight out the shoulder from the same side. It would be wrong to say nothing vital was hit, but it was far from the sort of wound that would put a servant down, and the man below cursed under his breath as he immediately twisted to the side and powered the jet booster that had diverted his path in the first place and left the holopilot in his place to blast through the window of a nearby building.

The titan, however, was not holding up as well as the pilot; the casing around its core seemed much tougher than the limbs, and while the barrage of fire was scarring it, it wasn’t wasn’t getting through to the insides. The limbs were not so lucky. One leg buckled entirely as something vital was ripped apart in its knee, and an arm was sacrificed to shield the the one wielding the chain gun as it kept up its relentless fire on Nobu; in hopes that even if the rounds weren’t reaching the warlord, they were keeping her focus on it more than she wanted.


—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


[Rooftop; FWZ]

Nobu’s plan was valiant, and tactically sound; Lucille was wounded and not easily moved, and a machine of war split into two dangerous parts like the titan and pilot were a difficult force to defend such an immobile and fragile target from. Removing them all from the equation to allow Nobu to do her work was logical.

Unfortunately, just as she was intending to do with the paladin of Charlegmane and his master, the pilot and their master had already acted to create an alliance of their own.

In other words, there was a master and servant still outside of the phantasm.

“Seems like they’re not coming back soon, wherever the went.”


A gruff voice came from far too close to the rooftop, before a white haired man in a red jacket and black hammer pants with a young woman in his arms suddenly leaped from the side of the building to the top. He put her down and glanced up towards the sky. “Looks like those other two aren’t comin back either.”

The young woman, dressed in jeans and a Rise Against long sleeved t-shirt, shrugged. “Okay, well… kill this chick then, and we can go right?”

The man looked at Lucille with something close to pity before he crossed his arms and glanced sideways at who seemed to be his own master in this war. “Why? Isn’t it the same thing if we just smash her stupid phone-thing?”

She shook her head, pointedly ignoring Lucille entirely to instead look over the side of the rooftop. “No. I don’t trust that she’s not gonna take revenge or something, or that masters can come back in, or whatever. I need the wish, so just do it.”

“...” he sighed, the decision not seeming to sit well in his stomach, but nonetheless his hand reached to the sword hilt on his back. “...Fine. This time, just to make sure you get somewhere safe. But we’re gonna have a *chat* about this after.”

“Fine, whatever, just do it already. Didn’t expect someone named Ragna the bloodedge to be so squeamish” she mumbled hurriedly as she continued to look anywhere else.

He pulled the sword from his back, and the already large looking blade unfolded into a single edged sword longer than he was. “...Sorry kid. I’ll make it quick.” He muttered as he stepped forward and raised his blade

It came down faster than Lucille could see.

The sword that intercepted it was even faster.

It pierced Ragna’s arm midswing, halting the blow entire as its weilder twisted in the air with a wordless exclamation of intent to use the blade like a pivot, wrenching Ragna off his feet and tossing back towards the other end of the rooftop.

Astolfo landed in a roll with a determined grin, flicking the blood off his slender sword as he glanced behind him to where his hippogriff had landed next to Lucille. “Quick, master, get her- oh, yikes, is she already hurt- Grgk!”

He barely managed to get his sword up in time to catch the overhead smash from Ragna, the force of the blow shattering the concrete beneath his feet and making his arms scream in effort and pain.

“That hurt, you little shit” The self proclaimed bloodedge snarled despite the grin on his face.

“Heheh… No.. hard feelings?”
Astolfo offered, his arm shaking under the continued pressure from his opponent as he glanced to the side and noted how incredibly unfair it was that the stab wound from his super cool dismount was already starting to heal.

“None, honestly”


“Oh!”


“Still gonna kick your ass though, twerp.”


“Oh.”


The other master just stared at the scene in shock, before she pulled out her MC and began fumbling through some menus or another.

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[Hallways, third floor; FWZ]


The blast crashed into the metallic legs of Batraz, scorching the heavy metal and forcing Tarlotte and likewise the Maisie in her arms to skid backwards from the sheer force, but the armor held. The bounty hunter assaulting them leapt through the hole she’d just created and spun her arm cannon to point directly at them-

One of her pauldrons exploded into metal shards as the crack of a gun firing filled the air, the sound heavy like a mortar shelling as it was joined by the metallic thud of armored feet landing on tile as War leaped back through the opening with a snarl on his face, his massive sword held defensively in one hand across his form and a large bore pistol in the other. Samus immediately wheeled for the nephelim, and War immediately lowered the gun and leaned as much behind his sword as he could as another beam of light tore through the hallway, engulfing war entirely and spearing through the sky above Alucard and the two masters he’d ensconced with to the ground below.
 
"Haha, um... What?"

Most individuals likely would've taken pause upon hearing the strange 'blessing' Lucyfer bestowed upon her servant, but Brighid McNamara was far from being 'most people'. Her initial assumption was that she must've simply misheard the girl; it wasn't like that was an uncommon occurrence. But even if that hadn't been so, she wouldn't have been likely to falter from her course. When her heart was set on something, she saw it through without hesitation; and, right now, the one and only thing she wanted was to be there for the people that needed her. So her stride went unbroken, her smile remaining as brilliant as ever as she approached one of Rockefeller's many resident crown weirdos. She still didn't fully get what was going on, but supporting her brother and this other girl and her weirdly familiar partner guy would be a good start to achieving her wish, right?

But that wasn't meant to be.

It happened too fast for the young woman to comprehend. One moment, she was happily on bounding over to her fellow senior; the next, her vision was painted in violent shades of red. She felt the blood spattering across her skin before she saw it, her eyes having briefly closed as she'd offered her classmate a bright smile of greeting. She was slow to follow through on the abrupt, almost primal instinct to open them, her previously relaxed and peaceful body having gone utterly rigid as every rational ounce of her being screamed to spare herself from viewing the sight that awaited her. But she couldn't stop herself, her eyes slowly opening only to find the space Lucyfer had previously occupied horribly, painfully empty. The blood painting the walls around them and dripping down her own face was clue enough as to what had happened, but instinct was a cruel beast. Betraying her, body beginning to tremble, her eyes drifted downward. They were met by Lucy's own, of course; it just happened to be that those eyes lacked even the slightest trace of spirit remaining within them. Mortified and petrified, Brighid watched the life fade from those eyes, still as a stone save for the light quivering of her lip and the near-violent shaking that took her by storm.

"...a... a-a....... AAAA--"

The scream that wanted to bubble to the surface in response to witnessing her classmate's lifeless corpse caught in her throat before it could be released in full, strangled and forcefully snuffed out. The cause was fortunately nothing external, but rather, an internal defense mechanism. A shutdown of the mind and body in the face of something she simply couldn't comprehend; an experience that she rejected with the entirety of her being. The sound of her grieving wail died in her throat as her bright eyes fluttered shut, her knees buckling before the rest of her body went limp, bound to fall to the floor as the world around her faded to black. As consciousness left her, she was met with something almost as unbearable as the horrific sight she'd just witnessed. A deafening voice resonating in her mind, shaking her to the core of her being. A notion that, combined with the violence, had overridden her ability to stay conscious.

Y o u ' v e b e e n h e r e b e f o r e
 
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The grappling hook went slack a moment after it was yanked, the rest of the line flying upwards from suddenly being cut from below. Not a moment after, a figure flickered into the view, as if coming into focus like an old TV screen

It was a man in baggy military garb overlain with sleek armor, similar in design if on a much smaller scale to the robotic beast below. A helmet covered his head, with a thin, glowing blue visor crossing its front like an x and what looked like a small jetpack strapped to his lower back. A revolver was in his hand, the gun almost comically small for how large the bore was for its caliber as it levelled with Nobu’s skull-

And never fired. Whatever Nobu did in response, it passed harmlessly through the pilot as it flickered back out of existence the same way it came, an illusion or hologram-

*BANG*

A bullet that matched the calibre of the gun the illusion held suddenly ripped through Nobu from below, through the higher part of her leg and straight out the shoulder from the same side. It would be wrong to say nothing vital was hit, but it was far from the sort of wound that would put a servant down, and the man below cursed under his breath as he immediately twisted to the side and powered the jet booster that had diverted his path in the first place and left the holopilot in his place to blast through the window of a nearby building.

The titan, however, was not holding up as well as the pilot; the casing around its core seemed much tougher than the limbs, and while the barrage of fire was scarring it, it wasn’t wasn’t getting through to the insides. The limbs were not so lucky. One leg buckled entirely as something vital was ripped apart in its knee, and an arm was sacrificed to shield the the one wielding the chain gun as it kept up its relentless fire on Nobu; in hopes that even if the rounds weren’t reaching the warlord, they were keeping her focus on it more than she wanted.

She did not say anything outright, but the way she cocked her head at the man's appearance, spoke of her interest in more modern technology. Firearms of this era...she can only imagine. To speak nothing of that device upon his back. Oh, the advancement of man over the centuries, there was undoubtedly much to appreciate with it. It was simply a shame none of it would be explored from this man. A separate rifle was already lined up, firing to match that pistol's trajectory, but it never did. It just soared through the empty air...and through the projection of the man without so much as a hint of damage. Her eyebrow started to raise, but she was not able to even begin questioning that.

The sound of another gunshot rang out amidst her and the big machine's respective barrages, and then there it was, that oh too familiar sensation. Pain. It spiked throughout her whole body as the bullet tore through her thigh, and then her shoulder. She fell from her hovering flight, initially landing back upon the ground on both feet, but swiftly dropping down to one knee, and it was only through the sheer focus of one well-versed in warfare that her barrage against the machine did not let up in the slightest, not allowing herself to be vulnerable to that assault. Her will pushed her through the pain, and she rose back up to standing. The spray of blood from her shoulder now stained her face, and there was no longer a smile or any hint of playful enjoyment in those eyes. In complete contrast to the her that had brought them all here in the first place, she didn't say so much as a single word.

She only glared, directed towards the man.

qZYyvkG.jpg


That said it all, as far as she was concerned. Enough. Enough of this!

Her gaze broke for a moment, eyes darting towards the huge machine as if she meant to deal with it first...before she was simply...gone from where she had been. She'd urged the rifle under her feet to fly forward before it had even finished materializing, and the Archer class servant shot forth like she was a bullet herself. Nobu came through the window herself in pursuit, a weapon in each hand. The gun in her left rose up, just as the one under her feet disappeared to join the barrage against the machine outside, and she pulled the trigger with her own fingers directly, but it was not intended to be a killing or even a wounding shot. Her intent was only to knock the pistol from the man's hand as the sheer momentum from her flight carried her forward...

And she sliced out with the sword in her right hand towards the neck, Heshikiri-Hasebe aiming to sever the man's head from his body entirely with one stroke.

It was true that she was an Archer class, that she was renowned for, or infamous for, her usage of firearms, something that had been considered taboo by the traditionalists of her time...but she was no less a capable samurai than any of them, trained by some of the best of her time. Whether by sword or bullet, it didn't matter to her so long as victory was achieved. So she hoped, anyway. A quick death for the man, that is what she believed he'd earned for drawing first blood. Such was her hope.​
 
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"Obviously"

Leonhart answered Patience's query with an exasperated arch of her eyebrow before she glanced back out at the smattering of people making their way through the platform with a general wariness, not actually expecting another master to come out here so soon but likewise not so relaxed as to not keep a whether eye out as she continued talking. "Your group was the only one that was roped into this mess unwillingly; she signed up for this and came ready to compete if that rifle was any indication. Just pretend it was your brother she shot at and not me" she added with a sardonic frown as she accepted they were likely safe and glanced down to watch Patience fiddling with the menus.

There was a messaging system, but there weren't any names assigned to them; just numbers, going all the way from 1 to 1000. She saw a number at the top corner of her screen, a small 987.

Likewise, the button that was supposedly what she had to press to enter the FWZ was simple to find, always visible in the bottom corner for easy access, but pressing it didn't have the intended effect as a message instead floated across the screen.

'Error. Grand Opening Melee still in effect; entry not permitted for 18 more hours.'


"Looks like we're stuck together till they get out. Unless you think they get cell service in there" she added blithely. "But until then we should get somewhere safer than a random subway platform. Where in New York are we?" She asked. She'd spent some time here with Malleus during her training; if Patience was freezing up she was sure she could find somewhere safe enough till they could get their bearings and she could sort her thoughts on what she made of this whole mess. The important thing was getting as far from this building as they could;

As far away from the monstrosity that was still lurking on the other side of the dimensional fold.

"I. That-- that doesn't matt-- oh my god..." Patience tried to mount a counteroffensive to Leon's words, before spluttering with her eyes downcast, slightly wide as if in defeat. Not by the point her own servant made but by the shattering realization of the underpinning ramifications of being in this war. She'd only survived and exited the FWZ because another master-- another human being-- was dead. Even though they'd come to kill another human being themselves.

Somehow, she never thought that her veneer of pragmatism would've been so easily shattered. There were certainly many times she'd, indubitably along with many others, envisioned scenarios of her own imagination where the rudimentary principle could be boiled down easily to this. Them or her. There was a stark contrast between making a decision and asserting one's own comfort with the outcome of that decision for an imaginary situation and actually coming to grips with it following one set in reality.

There was still something to be said for Patience managing to glean from the MC device in her its features, making note of it as the minor process of the parallel in her mind.

"I'm not set on leaving my brother behind, nor my friends. If he shows up back here, I need to find him--." Her features knitted, a clear conflict betrayed by her face as she understood why Leon said what she did. "We're in Manhattan, this terminates at the 34th subway station. I'll... I'll just leave a text to my brother, Marcus, and the others. So they have something when they get back. Hopefully."

She took a breath or three, trying to still herself, away from the perfectly human response to break down and cry, and peering around the vicinity herself with a somewhat sheepish demeanor uncharacteristic to her.

"Better get rolling before someone recognizes me and asks."
 
"it has already cost one of your classmates their life. And likely her servant's as well. Unless... you'd rather have him"

The weight of those words sat fell across Marcus' shoulders, heavy as steel. He didn't even know who it was, or which servant 'he' was, but someone he'd sat in the same room as five minutes ago was already gone.
The same thing might happen to Em if he didn't act.

"Fine." he answered, his tone short, mournful, and furious.

The priest smiled, and touched his MC with his finger; a golden light flowed through it and into the MC, and in that same moment, Yusuke found himself standing on the platform with the others, his form no longer splitting into nothingness as the priest removed his hand to spread his arms wide. "A new pairing, and a new chance for you both. May it prove fruitful-"

"shut the fuck up man" Marcus snapped before he grabbed Yusuke by his shoulders to look him in this eyes, his tone frantic as he shifted gears

"I don't know what just happened up there, but my friend just got kidnapped down that tunnel, you game to help?"

A simple statement to encapsulate Gavin in this instance? He was shitting the proverbial brick. The priest's presence alone was sufficient enough to bid something of a primal response within his very fiber that he never thought was possible, an overwhelming dirge internally that spelled his doom on the horizon if he didn't make space between himself and this entity. His presence was stifling that Gavin thought he'd been subsumed if he lingered any longer.

Which was why he found himself surprised that he still had scant enough courage to even speak.

"Wait, what the fuck does that mean. Why's he here, what happened to Lucyf--" His eyes grew wide with his pupils narrowing in tandem, going still entirely as the likely happenstance manifested in his mind.

"Oh fuckin no way, nah. Can't be, you're fuckin' with us. Jesus christ." The shock came so sudden he exhaled a heave while trying to take a breath, it was closer to a strange squawk than anything else. Tears would've begun to pool within the corners of his eyes before he shook his head, remembering his sister's disappearance and that Em had been just taken, by her own servant of all people. By Shiki, who almost instilled in him the same sensation as the priest did.

"Yeah. We. Yeah we gotta go get her. Then get the fuck outta here."

He cast around and instantly located the periwinkle haired servant of his, "Hey, Shinoa. Yeah, whatever you're gonna say... save it. It's all around a bad idea in an all around shit situation. I... I really need yer help with this."

We can't lose anyone else.
 
"...a... a-a....... AAAA--"

The scream that wanted to bubble to the surface in response to witnessing her classmate's lifeless corpse caught in her throat before it could be released in full, strangled and forcefully snuffed out. The cause was fortunately nothing external, but rather, an internal defense mechanism. A shutdown of the mind and body in the face of something she simply couldn't comprehend; an experience that she rejected with the entirety of her being. The sound of her grieving wail died in her throat as her bright eyes fluttered shut, her knees buckling before the rest of her body went limp, bound to fall to the floor as the world around her faded to black. As consciousness left her, she was met with something almost as unbearable as the horrific sight she'd just witnessed.​
"..." As it turned out, Nadia arrived just in the nick of time to keep the fainting Brighid from hitting the floor. She practically dived for it in her rush, catching the...older(?) girl in her arms. That could have been a concussion, or a cracked skull, or just a minor headache, but whatever it could have been was removed as a possibility. But...others had not been so lucky. Her gaze traveled over, catching a split-second glimpse--and immediately she got up, still holding onto the poor unconscious girl with one arm, the other snapping up to cover her master's eyes with her hand to spare him that sight. She only hoped she'd been fast enough to do so. He may have been--actually, no, so far he really had been a pretty big jerk but regardless, that was not something he needed to see. "Master, we have to get out of here. Preferably as soon as possible!" She didn't take no for an answer, one handed pushing him out of the room.

As soon as she made sure the corpse was no longer in his sightline, she removed her hand from his face and gingerly handed Brighid over to him. "Here, hold her please. Carefully." She hoped that would keep him occupied but...though she'd done her best to keep him from seeing the body and hoped he had not gotten even a glimpse of it, it would not be that hard for anyone to deduce what had happened, with the blood that currently covered Brighid. Or the walls. But nobody could say she had not tried to spare him the realization.

She glanced left and right, staying as aware of her surroundings as possible. There was so much fighting around. It was madness. No telling what could come around a corner next. "Master, I...you need to be kept as safe as possible. You and her-" Nadia nodded at Brighid. "-and the best way I see keeping you out of harm from this chaos is here." She unzipped her uniform a bit, just enough to reveal a crystal necklace which she tapped with her index finger. "I...have a microscopic lab I built there. It's safe, secure. You should be protected from any danger long enough for me to get us out of here. But...it would cost a phantasm. Do I have your permission?"

Please say yes, quickly, she thought to herself.


 
1654384345276.png

Though she couldn't speak for the rest, Shinoa certainly hadn't forgotten Shiki's presence. Rather than fear or animosity, the woman's return to their stairway hideaway only provoked the slightest sense of dread. Leonhart had already run off, and Shiki had long since made her utter lack of regard for her own life plainly clear both in her earlier confrontation with Frieza and her demeanor in the Velvet Room. What came next was practically guaranteed.

Even so. She wasn't fond of the idea of letting the girl waltz off with her assigned petrified child.

"Please. Reconsider," she implored as the first portion of Shiki's speech drew to a close, her voice strained as she wrestled with trace amounts of concern. Wrangling her own unruly squad was one thing, certainly, but this was more akin to attempting to talk someone down from a ledge. Something she was decisively less experienced in, and found herself struggling to manage, especially in the midst of the already mounting tension with Marcus's intent to release Frieza. "Surely you understand tha--"

Frieza's sudden appearance- and equally abrupt disappearance- were enough to give her pause. Her grip on her scythe tightened marginally, but she tried to set that aside for now and refocus on the matter at hand. Only, that situation had worsened, too. Her eyebrows furrowed as her and Marcus's words were met only with a silent threat in the form of the knife going to Emily's throat, but there was no time for her to react before she became acutely aware of another presence in their group. Her whole body stiffened as her head snapped to view the new arrival, her crimson eyes wide. "How--"

Were it not for the presence of the masters, she likely would have already been mid-strike by the time the start of that question had hit the air. As it were, she was forced to quickly dispel the mortification of an enemy somehow foregoing Shikama's inherent detection ability as a whole, and was instead left to try to juggle about five different problems at once. The priest was- for the moment at least- displaying no signs of hostility. The impossibility of the feat he'd just accomplished aside, he was lower on her list of priorities, for now. His words, though, were enough to make her lips press into a thin line. The loss of one of the children's lives was tragic, but not unexpected, if she were to be utterly honest. Not with how rash and reckless the group had appeared at a glance, some more than others. But, unfortunate as this revelation was, it didn't shake her. Her apathetic nature spared her the sense of grief she wished she could feel, instead delivering another message of it's own.

These kids weren't going to listen to reason. That revelation would become their drive to play hero.

Sighing in dismay, the youngest Hiiragi's shoulders sank slightly as she relented, deciding to spare herself some trouble by peering over Marcus's opposite shoulder(or rather, around his arm) in order to view the radar the priest had mentioned. She ran the calculations in her head, quickly forming estimates on the essentials as best as the device allowed; how far away the enemies were, roughly how long they had before Shiki and Emily encountered them, how quickly they would need to move to reach them before that could happen...

By the time the transfer of servants was done, she was as mentally prepared for what awaited them as she could be; whether that was a little, a lot, or not at all. She wasn't sure this info or the transfer could be trusted, given who had provided it to them, but right now it was all they had. They'd have to take it. Even if the new guy cut a much less imposing figure than Frieza. Disregarding that though, Gavin's frantic utterances regarding Lucyfer were met with a pointed shake of Shinoa's head, her free hand reaching to give his wrist a gentle squeeze in an effort to ground him. "We haven't the luxury of worrying about that right now." It was a calm statement that undoubtedly came off callous, but she was willing to play that part. If her master and his friends became angry with her for her apathy, that would at least be something they could feel that wasn't sorrow or despair.

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Releasing her grip on him, the petite girl glanced down the tunnel, her expression unreadable. "...You don't need to waste your breath explaining to me, either. You are already set in your goals, aren't you? I can see it all over your faces." Her poker face broke with those words, a small, almost sheepish expression delivering a stark contrast to her battle-ready posturing as yet another sigh escaped her. "My, what an undesirable predicament we've found ourselves in... But I suppose we'll just have to make do." Better to follow the pack than have them charge in defenseless without her. Her gaze flickered over the group at large, her faux indignation melting back into utter neutrality. "In any case, assuming you all truly have no intentions of listening to reason... I propose we make haste. Masters, please remain close to me as originally stated, ideally with one of your radars active for my convenience." She normally would assume she wouldn't need such a thing thanks to Shikama's abilities, but the priest's display of slipping past such had her on edge. As for Yusuke... "If you are up for the task, I request that you take the lead and serve as our vanguard. Unless, of course, that sword of yours is merely for show?" Once confirmation was given, she'd have to hurry in relaying the remnants of her quickly-forming plan.

Hopefully this wouldn't go as horribly as she envisioned ಥ_ಥ​
 
She did not say anything outright, but the way she cocked her head at the man's appearance, spoke of her interest in more modern technology. Firearms of this era...she can only imagine. To speak nothing of that device upon his back. Oh, the advancement of man over the centuries, there was undoubtedly much to appreciate with it. It was simply a shame none of it would be explored from this man. A separate rifle was already lined up, firing to match that pistol's trajectory, but it never did. It just soared through the empty air...and through the projection of the man without so much as a hint of damage. Her eyebrow started to raise, but she was not able to even begin questioning that.

The sound of another gunshot rang out amidst her and the big machine's respective barrages, and then there it was, that oh too familiar sensation. Pain. It spiked throughout her whole body as the bullet tore through her thigh, and then her shoulder. She fell from her hovering flight, initially landing back upon the ground on both feet, but swiftly dropping down to one knee, and it was only through the sheer focus of one well-versed in warfare that her barrage against the machine did not let up in the slightest, not allowing herself to be vulnerable to that assault. Her will pushed her through the pain, and she rose back up to standing. The spray of blood from her shoulder now stained her face, and there was no longer a smile or any hint of playful enjoyment in those eyes. In complete contrast to the her that had brought them all here in the first place, she didn't say so much as a single word.

She only glared, directed towards the man.

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That said it all, as far as she was concerned. Enough. Enough of this!

Her gaze broke for a moment, eyes darting towards the huge machine as if she meant to deal with it first...before she was simply...gone from where she had been. She'd urged the rifle under her feet to fly forward before it had even finished materializing, and the Archer class servant shot forth like she was a bullet herself. Nobu came through the window herself in pursuit, a weapon in each hand. The gun in her left rose up, just as the one under her feet disappeared to join the barrage against the machine outside, and she pulled the trigger with her own fingers directly, but it was not intended to be a killing or even a wounding shot. Her intent was only to knock the pistol from the man's hand as the sheer momentum from her flight carried her forward...

And she sliced out with the sword in her right hand towards the neck, Heshikiri-Hasebe aiming to sever the man's head from his body entirely with one stroke.

It was true that she was an Archer class, that she was renowned for, or infamous for, her usage of firearms, something that had been considered taboo by the traditionalists of her time...but she was no less a capable samurai than any of them, trained by some of the best of her time. Whether by sword or bullet, it didn't matter to her so long as victory was achieved. So she hoped, anyway. A quick death for the man, that is what she believed he'd earned for drawing first blood. Such was her hope.​


"Ah shit-"


The pilot twisted in mid-air, still in flight, and with the sort of precision that came from not just training in but excelling at the art of battle, managed to squeeze off a shot at the same moment Nobu fired hers, the bullets collided mid air, the two servant empowered rounds ricocheting off to shatter through the walls on either side, and for the briefest moment as he dragged the sight back down from the kick to level at Nobu and her single action matchlock, he thought he'd managed enough to claim the victory he and his partner were striving for

Then Nobu's sword sung, faster than he could react. He didn't think it was even possible with the wound of that caliber on that side of her body. But while the grail system had heightened his abilities far beyond what he had before, it did not give him the same physiology as a true servant; one borne of a spiritual core and form.

None of these thoughts were any he had as the sword sliced through his neck even as he tried to lean back, his form crashing into the wall behind him with enough momentum to go through it but none of the control he'd had seconds ago as he rolled into the wall passed it in a crumpled heap.

He didn't die immediately, even as his lifeblood drained out in violent spurts from the egregious wound. He had a few final moments of thought, and importantly, eye control, to do one last thing for his master and partner before he died. But die he did, and his form slowly began to split apart into light and stars that rose up and through the ceiling to nowhere.

For a moment, there was silence, Nobu able to have a reprieve with nothing but her Incredibly Loud Own Theme Music to accost her thoughts, but soon a voice rang out.

"Enemy servant. I request a negotiation for the fate of my master"

Either the robot had lied earlier, or something strange was going on; the servant was dead, but its tool remained.
 
For the briefest of moments, Em tried to fight against the grip Shiki had her in, and had even opened her mouth to shout, but something stopped her before the sound came out. The acrid scent of scorched flesh suddenly slipped much fuller into her nose as they made their way into the tunnel, and it took everything in her not to vomit as they began to speed past the source; a woman, seemingly in her thirties, who’d come into the FWZ clearly much more prepared than she had. She was wearing a military ballistic vest, and a few feet from her hands was a modern marksman rifle, clear enough in design and intent but the specifics far away from anything Em would have a grasp on past that, her brown eyes were stuck open, staring at the wall from where she’d landed on her side with a permanent look of terror.

Anything specific past that was impossible to parse; her entire back had been blown open like some twisted flower bloom of melted military armor and shattered bone.

If that caught Shiki’s attention at all, it didn’t keep it for long.A feeling that something was wrong tickled at the edges of every sense, much at the same time, a simple and honed sense of danger and magic from her travails with both her families setting off warning bells that Something was farther down the tunnel. Moments after the feeling, the first visual signs started form, barely visible in the dark of the tunnel even for her eyes, thin as it was; a green mist, snaking along the ground like tendrils of darkness just the slightest bit deeper than that of the emergency lighting below. A service tunnel of sorts had an entrance to the side, or the group behind them may have been willing to accept them back into its fold, but forward there was a certainty of violence
 
[Rockefeller Courtyard; FWZ]

General Grievous did not answer Garou immediately. He stood back up in silence, his body contorting with roboting smoothness despite the labored breath that accompanied his form tilting back upwards with a directness that seemed similar to a vampire rising from its coffin, his claws digging into the earth to assist in the action as he tossed aside a lightsaber that had been crushed in his hand in a reflexive squeeze from the blow he’d taken, and pulled another from within its cloak, this one alighting with a greenish hue as he eventually rattled out an answer.

“...No.. you are no… jedi. he spat the word more than spoke it “But perhaps I spoke too soon. You are closer to me; you do not rely on petty tricks, no force to help you. Commendable. It will mean your death, but.... commendable.”

He rose to his full height and spread all four sabers equidistant, his jaundiced eyes narrowing before he strode forward in a blur, every saber but one swinging at him in a triangle cross section.
 
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"I. That-- that doesn't matt-- oh my god..." Patience tried to mount a counteroffensive to Leon's words, before spluttering with her eyes downcast, slightly wide as if in defeat. Not by the point her own servant made but by the shattering realization of the underpinning ramifications of being in this war. She'd only survived and exited the FWZ because another master-- another human being-- was dead. Even though they'd come to kill another human being themselves.

Somehow, she never thought that her veneer of pragmatism would've been so easily shattered. There were certainly many times she'd, indubitably along with many others, envisioned scenarios of her own imagination where the rudimentary principle could be boiled down easily to this. Them or her. There was a stark contrast between making a decision and asserting one's own comfort with the outcome of that decision for an imaginary situation and actually coming to grips with it following one set in reality.

There was still something to be said for Patience managing to glean from the MC device in her its features, making note of it as the minor process of the parallel in her mind.

"I'm not set on leaving my brother behind, nor my friends. If he shows up back here, I need to find him--." Her features knitted, a clear conflict betrayed by her face as she understood why Leon said what she did. "We're in Manhattan, this terminates at the 34th subway station. I'll... I'll just leave a text to my brother, Marcus, and the others. So they have something when they get back. Hopefully."

She took a breath or three, trying to still herself, away from the perfectly human response to break down and cry, and peering around the vicinity herself with a somewhat sheepish demeanor uncharacteristic to her.

"Better get rolling before someone recognizes me and asks."
"We just need somewhere out of the way, that other masters won't look for." Kei replied. "I'd say your house, but that'd imply you'd trust every person in that class with your life. Somewhere else? Somewhere your just your brother would know?"

She caught the eye of the security guard, who narrowed his eyes and started to walk towards them. She sighed.
"Either way, we either need to move or I need to kill that man. Take us to the nearest bathroom."
she ordered, not bothering with explaining.
 


*SHUNK*

The knife plunged down, meeting resistance at first against the flesh. The cries to stop were heard loud and clear. They were just as delightful to listen to as they'd been back when he was serving under the one that everyone called 'The Entity." Truth be told, he still couldn't wrap his head around whatever the deal had been with that, but one thing was certain. He never complained about it, any of it. Just the idea that he'd be able to kill and torment for as long as he desired, no consequences, no angry townsfolk driving him out of town once they'd connected the dots and found out he was the infamous serial killer rampaging across their beloved locales. No matter how much the victims that the Entity picked out struggled, they were incapable of fighting back. Their punches, kicks, all meant nothing to him. It wasn't as though he couldn't feel pain or that he was immortal. Though it'd be absolutely killer if he was.

They were just helpless. No matter if they escaped him or any of the other killers that the Entity had enthralled.

They'd never find a moment's peace.

This was their life now.

To die at his hands. For all of eternity.

He couldn't have asked for a better 'job.'

"Please....stop...."

*SHUNK*

He'd raised the knife and struck it down, more snap in the wrist this time around. The tip of the blade broke through and the serrated edge on the underside of the knife ripped at the flesh. Meaty strips were peeled back like a blossoming flower as blood began to pool at the surface of the wound. The lights shining overhead in the school's hallway only enhanced the beautiful display of carnage. A part of him wished that he could have seen his reflection in the blood as it spilled out. To see the life fade from his victim's eyes, the man who butchered them, visible in their eyes, and even the very blood that he'd spilled. It gave him a high that no drug or sexual activity could ever hope to match in it's intensity. Trying to think of himself as anything other than a murderer at this point? It made him want to gag.

Gag....

There was an idea.

Leaving the knife embedded where it was, he reached inside his cloak, the tendrils on the back of his costume floating and swaying behind him. The man pinned below him had tried talking things out initially. He claimed that there was simply nothing to gain from this pointless violence. That if they all joined together that maybe they could get to the bottom of this and innocent lives wouldn't have to be lost. He'd made mention that he'd died before in whatever series he'd come from. Some creature clung to him and blew him up. So, if they put aside this lunacy and joined hands, they could stop this before it got out of hand.

He laughed in the guy's face.

Being 'real' or not. Having an existence to look forward to, to fight for, it didn't really even come close to disturbing him. Someone could swear up and down that all that he'd managed to accomplish was absolutely nothing. That none of his kills were real. Nobody had really died. Maybe that was true. His victims and even he, himself were little more than the creation of a group of individuals working together to tell a story.

It didn't change anything for him.

Murder was still murder. Which meant that it was still as fun for him in the 'real' world than it'd be when he was fictional, the tool of another's will. So, he'd disregarded the man's attempt at parlay and had fought with him, eventually ending up atop his foe, his knife pressed into the man's chest up to the hilt. The man tried to gurgle something but the knife had punctured his heart. It wouldn't be long before he'd be too far gone to even croak. He'd choke on his own blood and that'd be that. He'd disappear or do whatever it is would happen when one of them kicks the bucket here. Possibly leaving nothing behind.

That just wouldn't do, would it? He needed a reminder. Something to smile at in his downtime. His left hand snaked up the man's chest, tracing a finger through his pectorals before the palm eventually rested on his adam's apple. Then he squeezed as tightly as he could. The man's body began to convulse and shake as his airway was forcefully constricted. He'd either die choking on his own blood or through his assailant crushing his windpipe with his bare hand. As his master sat nearby, her hands bawled up to her face, her voice a soft, miserable mewling as she tried in vain to call out for her partner's life.

"P-Please, let Yamcha go! We'll leave you guys alone! PLEASE!"

It was always so funny when they pleaded like that. Just a real laugh riot. Ignoring the kid's pleas, he pulled out an older looking camera. Might have been one that you may have seen in Best Buy or Radio Shack during the late 90s, early 2000s. He held it over Yamcha's tortured face and finally spoke. His natural voice heavily modulated by a voice changer built into his mask.


"Say cheese.~"


*SNAP*

The picture showed up and he couldn't have been happier. He'd wager that this 'Yamaha' or whatever only had a couple of minutes, if not seconds left. If he was going to be as generous as possible, he'd wager maybe five minutes to choke to death on his blood. Less than a minute if his trachea was just caved in. But where was the fun in letting only one of the party in on the festivities? Glancing over at the guy's partner, he wagered that she couldn't have been older than seventeen-eighteen. Just a frightened kid caught in something horrific that she had no choice in.

Perfect.

He stepped off Yamcha's body, walking over the guy's face as he went, just to add an extra bit of mockery to the proceedings.
"C'mere, kid." He asked, his tendrils reaching out and scraping against the nearby lockers "I'll give you a taste of what I gave him. You two wanted us to work together right? Well, here's your chance." The girl couldn't bare to look at him as he approached, shards of broken glass crunching and cracking under the soles of his boots. "You can feel what he's feeling right now." Once he was close enough, he knelt down and gently cupped the teenager's chin, tilting her head upward. Her makeup was a complete disaster due to all the, frankly understandable, crying she'd been subject to. She'd picked Yamcha of all people because, well, she had a thing for underdogs and a guy like that was about as underdog as you could possibly get.

She just had the misfortune of running into a serial killer with the blessing of a god.

"Please....Please I'll give you my MC...You win, ok??"



"It's not winning until you're both dead."



She couldn't believe what she'd heard. Didn't this guy care at all about winning. Was he that concerned with being an absolute psychopath? He could just take the MC from her, smash it, stab it, throw it out a window, whatever. Then she'd be allowed to walk away from all of this. She could return back to whatever her life had been before all this. Instead, the only thing that her bloodshot eyes, red from tears, stared into were the black eyesockets of the plastic mask staring back at her. There was no man behind it. She was sure of it. It was a monster.

"Say ah."

"No...No please-ahhh-urgk...."

He could have just ripped her jaw off. Could have just ripped her whole head off if he put his back into it. But that was sloppy and it ended things way too quick. She had some more tears to shed. He was sure of it. Forcing her mouth open, he stuck two of his index fingers into her mouth and began pressing down on her tongue, intending on ripping her lower jaw off once the strain became too much. She'd die and so would her servant. A nice twofer to kick things off. "pw...pwese...." She mumbled, her words staggered because of the oral intrusion as drool ran down her chin. "dront.....dront kill me....."

"..."

He raised the camera to get a good full view of her miserable face.

*SNAP*

Her body shook like she'd been plunged into a sea of ice. He was going to kill her and there was nothing she could do to stop him. The only thing she could hope for was that....That Yamcha died before she did. He wouldn't be able to kill her if that happened. He'd have to let her go or risk being erased himself. ....What a sick fucking position he'd put her in!!!

"Danny. That's enough."

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"....What?" The masked man looked over his shoulder. There was another teenager present. She'd been the one who had called him forth. They had only dabbled here and there in the game that he hailed from. If they were being honest, they were pretty bad at it and the lack of a voice chat didn't help entice them to keep playing. But they enjoyed the lore of the various survivors, the killers, the Entity. All of it really got their writing blood flowing. Almost as much as he wanted to spill that same crimson gold. So, when it came time to get mixed up in this craziness, they picked one of the many masked maniacs that existed upon Dead by Daylight's roster.

Danny Johnson aka The Ghostface.

"Take the MC from her and crush it. Now."

"...."

"I won't tell you again."

Ghostface looked back at the girl and then back at the other student.

The girl could hardly speak at this point. Her pleas for mercy had devolved into animalistic howling and whimpering. Hoping that just SOMETHING would bring this to an end. She'd gotten in way over her head and she wanted to just die or get away. Something to make this nightmare come to a grinding halt.
"She's an enemy, ain't she? So, I'm doing you, us, both a favor. Ain't that right, kiddo?" Ghostface argued as he began to press his fingers down a bit rougher, causing the girl to shriek as some of her teeth became dislodged from the exertion, spilling out past Ghostface's fingers and falling onto the tiled floor with little clicks and clatters. "AAAAHhhhhhhhh!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" The girl shrieked and as Ghostface chuckled, he was about to go for the finish. Yank her whole bottom jaw off and maybe toss it on Yamcha's soon to be corpse.

Then he heard rustling and a backpack being unzipped. Looking back, he saw his own MC on display.
"You....You wouldn't."

"I'll sooner seal you away and put myself at risk than let you kill one of us." They said, coldly, their index finger hovering over the storage button. Walking over to Yamcha's side, the servant was just out of it. In a minute or two he'd be gone. His eyes had already started to roll back. "I don't care what happens to....things like you and him. You're just little more than ideas brought to life. For a given sense of 'life.' But she's real, she has a life and I won't let you take it. Now, let her go and crush the MC."

"..."

He didn't want to be locked away again. But it'd be so anti-climatic to just....

"Ugh."

He pulled his fingers back from the girl's mouth and grabbed her MC. He ripped his knife free from Yamcha's chest, causing a mini blood sprout. He raised the knife and smashed it down into the MC's screen. Sparks flew and circuity buzzed and hissed. The device was done and so was Yamcha. As the Z-Fighter's corpse began to fade away, the girl quickly scrambled to her feet and ran for the hills, screaming as she went. Watching as she went, bitterly disappointed at the lack of a double kill, Ghostface sheathed his knife and folded his arms as his master walked alongside him.

"You're a spoil sport, you little bitch."

"And you're a vicious murderer."

'Well, yeah, obviously."

"Let's go."

The two exchanged glances and moved on further down the hall.
 
Mr. Higgins's homeroom class had fallen into utter chaos.

Even without consideration for the several holes littering the walls and the general disarray of the room itself, the state of its occupants attested to that much. Clancy had done his best to set aside the ongoing cacophony outside in order to focus on the small handful of people still in the classroom, but despite the universal agreement its occupants had given to his suggestion of staying close, tragedy struck. He practically felt the resounding boom of the gunshot long before he saw it, as though it had already pierced him through the chest, but... he wasn't its target.

The realization came all too late. By the time he'd been able to process the sound at all, let alone what it meant, one of his classmates was already bleeding out on the floor. Time caught up to him, and his eyes went wide as he took a trembling step forward, reaching out for something he couldn't grasp. His entire body shook with duress, mortified by the sight unfolding before him and yet utterly powerless to stop it. He was on the verge of losing his breakfast when Brighid's scream cut the air, breaking through the pounding headache that had overtaken his senses.

"Br--"

It was a garbled yelp more than a yell, and he immediately choked on the name in his struggle to refrain from puking. He coughed violently, but tried to reach her nevertheless; an ultimately fruitless effort. He collided with one of the desks instead, leaning on it for support as he fought with all he had just to stay upright. His vision felt blurry and dark despite his glasses remaining in place, and he couldn't rid the sight of the blood coating the walls from his head. He barely even processed that Nadia had swooped in to his sister's rescue, his bleary blue eyes whipping to Sho with desperation instead. "W-... W-we have to h-... help her," he pled, "please." He might've been useless on his own, might have lost a sibling before, but they had to get this right. He wouldn't be able to bear it otherwise.

----------

"...Holy fuck," Daniel murmured upon his entrance to the scene, his stomach sinking at record speeds. It had all happened too fast for him to keep up with, but the brief glimpse of crimson and the sound of Brighid's screams he had caught before Nadia covered his eyes were enough to clue him in that something terrible had happened. Morbid curiosity pled for him to push her away and assess the situation for himself, but he was no match for a servant's strength. All he could do as she pushed him out of the room was squirm whilst babbling incoherently, the mild playfulness he'd exhibited with her on their way here entirely gone. "H-hey, the fuck, man?! We can't just leave! They're still--"

The moment her hand lifted, he looked ready to charge right back into the classroom. At least, until he caught sight of the unconscious Brighid in her arms, which soothed a fear he hadn't realized he'd held... that was, until he noticed the blood thoroughly coating her. His body went stiff as a board as Nadia passed the girl over to him, though he held her with the focus of someone handling glass, his green eyes full of questions he didn't have it in him to voice. His mouth opened and closed as his mind raced, but he ultimately came up short of whatever it was he wanted to say, the question dying before it could ever be born. Instead, he tried to listen to what his servant was saying to him, but it all just sounded like gibberish. Fuck, why didn't anything here make sense?!

Doing all he could to keep his cool in what won the award for the most uncool situation he'd ever been in, the blond took a shuddering breath, tightening his grip on the unconscious Brighid as he finally spoke. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he scowled, though his exasperation was directed more at the situation as a whole than Nadia herself. He wished he'd broken his routine. Wished he hadn't taken his morning run, or that he'd taken longer in the shower, or that he could've caught pneumonia or some bullshit over break. Anything to have kept him from winding up in this living nightmare where any step he or his classmates took could be their last. But sitting here feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to get them anywhere, and he wasn't eager for a repeat of whatever the hell had just gone down in the classroom. "I don't know what a phantasm is or what kind of crazy lab could fit in a necklace, but fuck, whatever'll keep us safe, do it!"

A pause followed, and he stole a glance back in the direction of the classroom. The irritation wavered slightly, giving way to something rare. Something vulnerable. "...Just... don't forget the others in there, too." Assuming there were any left. It wasn't a worry he ever would've expected to have, yet here he was.​
 
"Ah shit-"

The pilot twisted in mid-air, still in flight, and with the sort of precision that came from not just training in but excelling at the art of battle, managed to squeeze off a shot at the same moment Nobu fired hers, the bullets collided mid air, the two servant empowered rounds ricocheting off to shatter through the walls on either side, and for the briefest moment as he dragged the sight back down from the kick to level at Nobu and her single action matchlock, he thought he'd managed enough to claim the victory he and his partner were striving for

Then Nobu's sword sung, faster than he could react. He didn't think it was even possible with the wound of that caliber on that side of her body. But while the grail system had heightened his abilities far beyond what he had before, it did not give him the same physiology as a true servant; one borne of a spiritual core and form.

None of these thoughts were any he had as the sword sliced through his neck even as he tried to lean back, his form crashing into the wall behind him with enough momentum to go through it but none of the control he'd had seconds ago as he rolled into the wall passed it in a crumpled heap.

He didn't die immediately, even as his lifeblood drained out in violent spurts from the egregious wound. He had a few final moments of thought, and importantly, eye control, to do one last thing for his master and partner before he died. But die he did, and his form slowly began to split apart into light and stars that rose up and through the ceiling to nowhere.

For a moment, there was silence, Nobu able to have a reprieve with nothing but her Incredibly Loud Own Theme Music to accost her thoughts, but soon a voice rang out.

"Enemy servant. I request a negotiation for the fate of my master"

Either the robot had lied earlier, or something strange was going on; the servant was dead, but its tool remained.

Her stare lingered upon the now defeated foe, his blood less gushing out and more spurting violently, but she said nothing. Nobu remained silent, even as the man's form began to disappear. It came apart. changing, rising, and fading from sight beyond the ceiling above. It was only when he was fully gone, that she lowered her head in a small bow. He'd drawn blood on her in a good battle. That was worth respect. After a few moments she lifted her head and took a deep breath before gritting her teeth. This wound really fucking hurt, despite the attitude she'd expressed outwardly, or the focus to push past it. The only reason she did not let out a scream of pain now, one louder than even the still ongoing sound of her theme, was that she first heard someone...or something, calling out for her. Addressing her directly.

Nobu sheathed her blade, the rifle in her hand vanished, and with a grimace she turned around to step back outside. How...how was the machine still here? She had no idea. "Negotiate? The man is gone. You, aren't in much better state yourself. What possible reason could I have to negotiate? What would I even get out of that?"
 
Okay.

It was time to face the facts right in their, well, face.

Ash wasn't in the best shape of his life. Age did strange things to you.

It'd taken his teeth, his bad hip, his bum knee.

Okay, okay, he was in pretty rough shape.

"And this little prick firin alakazam and shishkumbyeya ain't makin things any easier!!"

He'd lost both his shotgun and his chainsaw. The guy looked as scrawny, a real twig boy if he was being honest. Looked like he'd crumple like a tissue box after Ash's off day from S-Mart. However, something had caused quite the stir in Ash's little duel with David Copperfield here. Something had crashed into the ground and it didn't look like Hairdo was too far behind. A lesser man might have asked for his help but Ash didn't need no fancy kung fu to settle this. Closing his eyes, he exhaled.

"Alright, pal. Prepare to get that wand shoved up your-"

Before Ash could finish his no doubt colorful threat, he was blasted yet again. This time the shot hit him right in the face, knocking his dentures out and across the courtyard. Cupping his prosthetic hand over his mouth, Ash's eyes shot open. That was the final straw! You could knock his boomstick out of his hands, sure. But the second you messed with his car or his dashing good looks? You were sentencing yourself up for an ass kicking that'd be known throughout all the circles of Hell and maybe even up in Heaven too.

Brushing one hand over his forehead, the office worker that'd picked Harry Potter of all characters, mainly due to a childhood idealation. If a nerdy looking kid with glasses could grow up to really make something of themselves like Harry did, maybe Gary could finally escape his mundane 9-5 office job. The only thing currently standing in the way of that goal was a young girl, a screaming book with a face, and a geriatric Bruce Campbell. "Harry! What are you waiting for!? T-Take her out already! Kill her!!!"

Jean had been able to use the Necronomicon to block one of Harry's earlier strikes. The book had absorbed most of the initial impact but as a servant, Harry still packed enough power to send it and Jean flying back. Her baseball cap fell to the ground as Jean crawled back, too afraid to get back up to her feet despite the Necronomicon's insistence to the contrary. "STAND UP YOU STOLID CHILD!!! YOU'LL DOOM BOTH OF USSSSSSS!!!!!!"

Jean's hands scrunched up mounds of dirt as she panted and mouthed for Harry to stay back. "A-Ash!"

"Kid...."

It wasn't just himself he was fighting for out here. That kid needed his help.

Closing his eyes, Ash reached down and hoping for a little bit of that luck that came with being the Chosen One, he hoped to grasp his fallen boomstick. Peeking out with one eye, he felt that familiar woodstock and grinned as he raised the firearm. For all he knew Wizard Boy would throw up some kinda shield spell or something if Ash tried blasting him directly. Which is why he was going for a different target entirely.

"HEY! DESK JOCKEY!"

Gary glanced over at the insult. Something that he mentally berated himself for. He provided a valuable service to the community! He wasn't...Wasn't just some slouch who sat hunched over at a desk all day!

"Abracadbra this."

Ash said, defiantly, though it probably would have sounded a lot cooler with teeth.

"W-What did you say?? I couldn't understand-"

*BLAM*

"A....AHHHHH!!" Gary shrieked as his left hand exploded like a ripe watermelon. Fingers went everywhich way, shards of bone tore bloody streaks across his face and glibs of flesh landed in his hair and stained his white buttoned up shirt. Bringing the barrel upwards, Ash blew out the smoke ebbing out from the end of them. He'd been aiming for the shoulder but something about taking out the guy's hand felt fitting, almost....Ironic in a way, right? That was how it worked? "How about you drop that tablet before I leave you without any hands to wipe your sorry ass, pal?" Ash ordered. He normally wasn't a fan of using his weapons on anything BUT deadites. Attacking regular people is the stuff of rumors that assholes back in Elk Grove and Dearborn made up about him. Even here, though he'd defend his actions by saying that it was to protect Jean, he still couldn't help but feel a bit bad.

But then he remembered how the guy had almost killed a kid and suddenly he didn't feel so bad.


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"Sit and spin, assholeeeeeeeee!"
 
"...Holy fuck," Daniel murmured upon his entrance to the scene, his stomach sinking at record speeds. It had all happened too fast for him to keep up with, but the brief glimpse of crimson and the sound of Brighid's screams he had caught before Nadia covered his eyes were enough to clue him in that something terrible had happened. Morbid curiosity pled for him to push her away and assess the situation for himself, but he was no match for a servant's strength. All he could do as she pushed him out of the room was squirm whilst babbling incoherently, the mild playfulness he'd exhibited with her on their way here entirely gone. "H-hey, the fuck, man?! We can't just leave! They're still--"

The moment her hand lifted, he looked ready to charge right back into the classroom. At least, until he caught sight of the unconscious Brighid in her arms, which soothed a fear he hadn't realized he'd held... that was, until he noticed the blood thoroughly coating her. His body went stiff as a board as Nadia passed the girl over to him, though he held her with the focus of someone handling glass, his green eyes full of questions he didn't have it in him to voice. His mouth opened and closed as his mind raced, but he ultimately came up short of whatever it was he wanted to say, the question dying before it could ever be born. Instead, he tried to listen to what his servant was saying to him, but it all just sounded like gibberish. Fuck, why didn't anything here make sense?!

Doing all he could to keep his cool in what won the award for the most uncool situation he'd ever been in, the blond took a shuddering breath, tightening his grip on the unconscious Brighid as he finally spoke. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he scowled, though his exasperation was directed more at the situation as a whole than Nadia herself. He wished he'd broken his routine. Wished he hadn't taken his morning run, or that he'd taken longer in the shower, or that he could've caught pneumonia or some bullshit over break. Anything to have kept him from winding up in this living nightmare where any step he or his classmates took could be their last. But sitting here feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to get them anywhere, and he wasn't eager for a repeat of whatever the hell had just gone down in the classroom. "I don't know what a phantasm is or what kind of crazy lab could fit in a necklace, but fuck, whatever'll keep us safe, do it!"

A pause followed, and he stole a glance back in the direction of the classroom. The irritation wavered slightly, giving way to something rare. Something vulnerable. "...Just... don't forget the others in there, too." Assuming there were any left. It wasn't a worry he ever would've expected to have, yet here he was.​

This boy cursed a lot, enough that even Shay would have been impressed, and that was saying something. Anytime that poor girl stubbed her toe or something else accidentally, it was like flipping a switch. They came out rapidfire...but that was neither here nor there. "I understand, but there's no time to explain properly. The important thing is, you should hopefully be safe for the time being, and...there are a few medical beds for this one to lie down in." Nadia nodded towards Brighid again, even as she fished out the MC, put it in one of her master's hands and guided him through letting her access said phantasm. Once that was done, she slid the device back into one of his pockets, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The last thing he saw from her was a comforting smile. She hadn't missed the vulnerability in his last statement, or the look in his eyes when he'd said it. Hypothesis on his character proven accurate, even jerks have soft sides. "I won't forget. Trust me. I'm a superhero." The words were barely out of her lips before she disappeared from view, his surroundings wildly warping with such a disorienting mix of shapes and colors that flashed all around them. Blink and you miss it. It only took a second or two for all that to settle, and now the pair had the new sight of her home away from home before them. A mostly pink sky, with just some hints of orange, bathing the crystal lab she'd forged herself in warm hues. It wasn't exactly the most utilitarian design, but it was hers and she loved it.

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A path had been carved into the land before them, leading right up to the giant front door.

-------

With that done, and their safety at much less risk, Nadia stood and stepped back into the shattered classroom. She cleared her throat. "Ahem. I should say, she is safe." She reported to Clancy, confident in her belief. Whether Brighid would be fine was something else entirely, she'd just been witness to a classmate getting shot, right before her eyes...but at least she was removed from the chaos of battle. "I could get you to her as well, if you are okay with that, but we servants have to help with..." She trailed off with open gestures to the sounds and chaos going on around them. "Until we've broken the devices of one of the others in this conflict and earned your freedom." Wasp refused to even entertain the idea of murder.​
 
[Rockefeller Courtyard; FWZ]

General Grievous did not answer Garou immediately. He stood back up in silence, his body contorting with roboting smoothness despite the labored breath that accompanied his form tilting back upwards with a directness that seemed similar to a vampire rising from its coffin, his claws digging into the earth to assist in the action as he tossed aside a lightsaber that had been crushed in his hand in a reflexive squeeze from the blow he’d taken, and pulled another from within its cloak, this one alighting with a greenish hue as he eventually rattled out an answer.

“...No.. you are no… jedi. he spat the word more than spoke it “But perhaps I spoke too soon. You are closer to me; you do not rely on petty tricks, no force to help you. Commendable. It will mean your death, but.... commendable.”

He rose to his full height and spread all four sabers equidistant, his jaundiced eyes narrowing before he strode forward in a blur, every saber but one swinging at him in a triangle cross section.

"Most people-- monsters even!-- don't get back up from that usually. Then again, nothing bout this is usual!" The one of his words were as commensurate with he posture he adopted, utterly lackadaisical in every respect. A pointed emphasis of how he considered showing any effort to be beneath while while simultaneously reveling in the thrilling realization of his circumstances.

Though that did nothing to distract him from his convictions of earlier, to ferret out the bastards who dragged innocent kids into this pointless WHILE becoming the biggest monster around to rearrange the world's status quo. The two were not mutually exclusive and the latter definitely would benefit the former! (ฅΦωΦ)ฅ

"Yeah, like I said. Not a Jedi, dunno what that is, but bet I'm better. Though!"

The martial artist slid into a pose as a physical response to the last of the cyborg's words, a subtle understanding between the two that the following exchange was probably meant to bring their battle to a conclusion.

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Garou finished saying as Grievous launched himself, "I don't bat an eye at pulling tricks if it wins me a fight, you trash!" A dull gunmetal glinted against the snowy urban backdrop before disappearing, a clanging reverberation as the manhole cover of earlier the teenager kept on hand flung like the ultimate skipping stone intended for the jedi hunter's legs amid his mad dash. With the hero hunter hot on its trails, frenzied glee burnt into the features of his face, his hands moving in a dizzying blur to deflect the sabers intended for him in tandem.

His objective was to unsettle Grievous with the combination of the two to lead into a flurry of blows aimed for the upper torso and the joints of the limbs that split into two pairs apiece, intending to disable the bastard entirely and crumple him like a tin can. Maybe.

The Hero Hunter was definitely gonna kick the Jedi Hunter's ass for belittling him!
 
For the briefest of moments, Em tried to fight against the grip Shiki had her in, and had even opened her mouth to shout, but something stopped her before the sound came out. The acrid scent of scorched flesh suddenly slipped much fuller into her nose as they made their way into the tunnel, and it took everything in her not to vomit as they began to speed past the source; a woman, seemingly in her thirties, who’d come into the FWZ clearly much more prepared than she had. She was wearing a military ballistic vest, and a few feet from her hands was a modern marksman rifle, clear enough in design and intent but the specifics far away from anything Em would have a grasp on past that, her brown eyes were stuck open, staring at the wall from where she’d landed on her side with a permanent look of terror.

Anything specific past that was impossible to parse; her entire back had been blown open like some twisted flower bloom of melted military armor and shattered bone.

If that caught Shiki’s attention at all, it didn’t keep it for long.A feeling that something was wrong tickled at the edges of every sense, much at the same time, a simple and honed sense of danger and magic from her travails with both her families setting off warning bells that Something was farther down the tunnel. Moments after the feeling, the first visual signs started form, barely visible in the dark of the tunnel even for her eyes, thin as it was; a green mist, snaking along the ground like tendrils of darkness just the slightest bit deeper than that of the emergency lighting below. A service tunnel of sorts had an entrance to the side, or the group behind them may have been willing to accept them back into its fold, but forward there was a certainty of violence​


Under most circumstances, such a certainty would've done little to divert the path of Ryougi Shiki. Often was the time, in her lowest and most private of moments, when she wondered if such a thing had been keeping step with her all her life from the day she first learned to walk, like a twisted second shadow; the certainty of violence. No, that didn't quite cover it.

The certainty of more.

So it couldn't have been for her sake that the latch to the service tunnel was thrown open and Emily brusquely flung inside, the Ryougi clan heiress never one given to placing too much time between thought and action as she closed it firmly but silently behind them and bent the locking mechanism out of place. She backed up warily a few steps, unblinking eyes just about the only thing visible in the darkness to someone like the Demange girl's unadjusted vision as she continued monitoring the door, vents, and any potential entrances that weren't airtight, and only after enough time had passed that she could be sure they'd evaded immediate pursuit did she turn and shoulder past Emily without a second care.

The only sparse effort at communication she made with the student for the next several minutes was an impatient motion to follow if she didn't do so immediately, followed by another sharp yank of her arm if that didn't do the trick. Once the artist's legs were working it was silence, Shiki doing little to alleviate the grim mood that had set in as she led them deeper and deeper into the tunnel; only when she could be certain they were out of earshot of whatever enemy had awaited them back there did she venture a brief, uttered sentence without turning, rough and laconic.

"Have you ever thought about how you're going to die?"

Perhaps unsurprisingly, it, too, offered precious little in the way of reassurance.​
 
—The other master just stared at the scene in shock, before she pulled out her MC and began fumbling through some menus or another.​


Full transparency, all pretensions of being a good person put aside, Jamie had been absolutely intent on just sort of burying her head in the sand and getting the hell out of here before she could get too attached to anyone, or anything, or any of the bullshit that was about to kick off. She needed to... she just needed to think, to get away from everything and everyone and take a few deep breaths so she could collect her thoughts, figure out what she was even supposed to do with all this. There wasn't a single part of her that believed she was gonna do anything except die if she started getting caught up in her feelings and tried to play hero now.

And then Astolfo told her that there was a second master, and a second servant, and explicitly confirmed that their intention was to straight up murk poor, struggling Lucille who never so much as raised her voice to anyone, and jesus fucking christ she hated him. SHE HATED HIM. Saber would NEVER have done that, she would've just let her suit herself and run away; Or just handled the problem by now all by herself, 'cause she was awesome.

Huh. She was really taking this whole 'not getting Saber' thing harder than anyone could've expected. Ohhh, crap, was she the weeb?

Not enough of one to know who the hell anime boy with big sword and red longcoat #27865 was, apparently, but she was almost positive those traits alone probably made him more of a badass than goofy little Astolfo could possibly hope to handle. Which meant her options were really limited here, and UGHHHHH GOD SHE HATED HIM.

Whatever deep inner vein of salt the past twenty minutes of her life had uncovered could probably be attributed with her next course of action; which was to take one look at Lucille, very swiftly decide someone in her present state of agitation had absolutely no business trying to move a person in that condition whatsoever, rapidly switch focus to the enemy master, and try to absolutely body her with a diving spear so she could start bashing her hand—and the MC it was grasping—into the rooftop over and over, the adrenaline fuelled fit of madness overtaking her enough to wrench a nigh feral scream from her lips.

"FUCK! YOU! MYSPACE IS DEAD AND RISE AGAINST WERE NEVER GOOD AND, AND, AND YOU'RE WHY THE WORLD FUCKING SUCKS!!!!!!"
 
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This boy cursed a lot, enough that even Shay would have been impressed, and that was saying something. Anytime that poor girl stubbed her toe or something else accidentally, it was like flipping a switch. They came out rapidfire...but that was neither here nor there. "I understand, but there's no time to explain properly. The important thing is, you should hopefully be safe for the time being, and...there are a few medical beds for this one to lie down in." Nadia nodded towards Brighid again, even as she fished out the MC, put it in one of her master's hands and guided him through letting her access said phantasm. Once that was done, she slid the device back into one of his pockets, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The last thing he saw from her was a comforting smile. She hadn't missed the vulnerability in his last statement, or the look in his eyes when he'd said it. Hypothesis on his character proven accurate, even jerks have soft sides. "I won't forget. Trust me. I'm a superhero." The words were barely out of her lips before she disappeared from view, his surroundings wildly warping with such a disorienting mix of shapes and colors that flashed all around them. Blink and you miss it. It only took a second or two for all that to settle, and now the pair had the new sight of her home away from home before them. A mostly pink sky, with just some hints of orange, bathing the crystal lab she'd forged herself in warm hues. It wasn't exactly the most utilitarian design, but it was hers and she loved it.

717940247a993dcc2c5fa7c038f02129.jpg

A path had been carved into the land before them, leading right up to the giant front door.

-------

With that done, and their safety at much less risk, Nadia stood and stepped back into the shattered classroom. She cleared her throat. "Ahem. I should say, she is safe." She reported to Clancy, confident in her belief. Whether Brighid would be fine was something else entirely, she'd just been witness to a classmate getting shot, right before her eyes...but at least she was removed from the chaos of battle. "I could get you to her as well, if you are okay with that, but we servants have to help with..." She trailed off with open gestures to the sounds and chaos going on around them. "Until we've broken the devices of one of the others in this conflict and earned your freedom." Wasp refused to even entertain the idea of murder.​


The plan was sound, all things considered; much easier to protect the masters shielded in a miniscule place. However, there was a singular issue that became immediately apparent;

The Mobile Contracts did not shrink with everything else.

Danny just vaguely processed that in the process of shrinking, the object in his hand suddenly became massive in a very disorienting moment before he found himself on the path leading to the lab, and from Nadia's side she saw the pair of mobile contracts clatter to the ground. Moreover, trying to touch Danny's just... didn't work. Brighid's she could pick up, but it was if Danny had force field around it that stopped her from even grazing it, no matter how hard she pushed against the mysterious force. additionally, there was one other problem; a message on the screen.

'Warning; relative distance to master greater than thirty feet. four minutes till automatic forfeiture'
 


Ghostface had many opinions about everything that was going on. While he'd swallowed the proposition that he was some kind of fictional character pretty easily(hey, in his eyes it was a plus. It meant that dozens of people could look at him and be inspired. To engage in their inner passions. Whatever they may have been, though of course he strongly leaned towards a career in journalism himself with vicious cold blooded murder really being more of a side hobby.) as it was really no different from having something telling him what to do.

Whether it was the Entity, or some loner degenerate with cheeto dust flaking off his fingers and making either his keyboard or the buttons on his controller of choice all sticky and stuck, or some pain in the ass kid. It was just a change in employer as far as he was concerned. But while the former may not have cared how much he killed or the innate joy he took in the act, this chick was a real oddity to him. They claimed that because he had never really existed beyond being code and lore in a video game developed by a bunch of Canadians that his life carried about as much weight as you might give to a fridge or a car. Equipment that served a purpose but nothing worth equating to the weight of an actual human being's life. Which on one hand meant they'd let him go as ham as he wanted on someone like him. Stabbings, disemboweling, mutilating, the whole nine yards. They'd disappear and it'd be as though it never happened! But thanks to the handy technology of photography, he'd never forget even as the corpses faded away.

But on the other hand, and this one really stuck in his craw, the kid just wouldn't budge at the idea of letting him murk an enemy master. Disabling them so they weren't able to fight back any longer was one thing. Breaking a leg or giving them a compound fracture in their arm. Maybe if the enemy master was really persistent, cutting off their hand or a couple fingers. Killing them outright though in lieu of just crushing the MC or murdering the servant themselves? Simply out of the question. Jaden just didn't hold a servant's life in the same vein that they did a regular human. In their eyes, the students and other masters were the ones truly suffering. Nobody they knew could fire energy blasts or ooze out of shadows or whatever else. Yamcha was a pushover compared to the rest of the Z-Fighters but he still possessed enough power in him to destroy the Earth, hypothetically speaking of course. Someone with power like that even if they were or claimed to be on the 'right' side just couldn't be allowed to live. They'd have to go and so Jaden had Yamcha snuffed out without even blinking an eye. The fact that Ghostface enjoyed it was an unfortunate and gross side effect.

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"Y'know, sooner or later, we're gonna run into some real scumbags."


"Bigger ones than you? I kinda have my doubts, Danny."

"Oh, joke about it while you can. When they're sending their servant to crack open your skull or rip your heart out, you'll be wishing that I'd just taken the easy route out and slit their guy or gal's throat wide open." Ghostface said, even going so far as to wag a finger disapprovingly in Jaden's direction. "Besides, how long can you try to play off this moral high ground bs? That kid back there really liked that Yamaha guy or whoever he was. You think they'll just be cool with it if I start cutting open their boy's guts right in front of em? While they're powerless to do anything about it? You ever think about that? What do you think will happen?? That they'll THANK you for sparing them and killing the other guy instead?? I don't buy it."

Jaden stopped walking and frowned.

"I can tell that you've been giving it too much thought."

"Heh...."

Of course he laughed. Ugh.

"It's...It's just in human nature to do whatever you have to in order to survive. People can form attachments to just about anything. Animals, shows they've become fond of, even inanimate objects. But if it ever comes down to the wire like it did back there? The girl might have been traumatized but she would have been just as happy being let go. To live another day and try to recover from ending up mixed up in this sick freakshow that so many of my peers and I have ended up in. That girl actually used to be in one of my classes"

"Oh yeah? What class?"

"English."

"Really, huh. Well, I guess she'll need to retake it. Might be hard to speak the language with all those missing teeth."


One of her pauldrons exploded into metal shards as the crack of a gun firing filled the air, the sound heavy like a mortar shelling as it was joined by the metallic thud of armored feet landing on tile as War leaped back through the opening with a snarl on his face, his massive sword held defensively in one hand across his form and a large bore pistol in the other. Samus immediately wheeled for the nephelim, and War immediately lowered the gun and leaned as much behind his sword as he could as another beam of light tore through the hallway, engulfing war entirely and spearing through the sky above Alucard and the two masters he’d ensconced with to the ground below.
*BOOM*

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"Ooooh...! Sounds like things are really kicking off, huh?"

The argument or debate or whatever you wanted to call it was over. At least for the time being. The kid could say whatever they wanted, it was all just noise after a certain point to the murderer. If he hadn't walked down the path that had been designed for him, he never would have met the Entity and while he still have kept on murdering all the same, getting a chance to do it on a supernatural scale? He'd have to be an idiot to turn it down and this was no different. Sure, the kid was a harsher warden than the Entity had ever been. But he'd get his kicks in regardless of the kid's wishes.

One way or another.

"...Let's go check it out. See if we can save a life or two."

"Blegh."

The very thought made him wanna wretch. But together off the two went to the third floor! A fierce wind causing the lockers nearby to open and slam over and over again as they went. The shadow of death was on the move and hungry for more, MORE carnage!


 
By the time the transfer of servants was done, she was as mentally prepared for what awaited them as she could be; whether that was a little, a lot, or not at all. She wasn't sure this info or the transfer could be trusted, given who had provided it to them, but right now it was all they had. They'd have to take it. Even if the new guy cut a much less imposing figure than Frieza. Disregarding that though, Gavin's frantic utterances regarding Lucyfer were met with a pointed shake of Shinoa's head, her free hand reaching to give his wrist a gentle squeeze in an effort to ground him. "We haven't the luxury of worrying about that right now." It was a calm statement that undoubtedly came off callous, but she was willing to play that part. If her master and his friends became angry with her for her apathy, that would at least be something they could feel that wasn't sorrow or despair.
Frieza's disappearance didn't even so much register with Gavin, though Yusuke's did so perhaps there was a queued sequence in the back of his head. Regardless. The younger Munroe was reeling from the revelation that his reaction to his own servant's words came as a surprise to no one that knew him.

"Wh-- fuck's wrong with you? A kid, my classmate, someone I knew-- dead! Croaked."

He ripped away from Shinoa, not at all receptive to her efforts with the cascade of emotions plain on his face as it all mounted together. His sister had disappeared, a classmate died, and the seriousness of the war was becoming all the more apparent. Never mind the inextricable possibility of his own demise if he wasn't careful at all. If he hadn't developed a general anxiety disorder by the end of all this bullshit, that'd be a fucking miracle in his eyes, even with the years of therapy to follow.

Having someone that made fuckin' Satan come to Earth, Kenneth Copeland, look mild by comparison in Trifa added an edge to the situation as a whole.

"Jesus fuck." If anyone had been on the verge of a shutdown, it was looking to be him, his emphasized word pointedly punctuated with a sharp silent.

Releasing her grip on him, the petite girl glanced down the tunnel, her expression unreadable. "...You don't need to waste your breath explaining to me, either. You are already set in your goals, aren't you? I can see it all over your faces." Her poker face broke with those words, a small, almost sheepish expression delivering a stark contrast to her battle-ready posturing as yet another sigh escaped her. "My, what an undesirable predicament we've found ourselves in... But I suppose we'll just have to make do." Better to follow the pack than have them charge in defenseless without her. Her gaze flickered over the group at large, her faux indignation melting back into utter neutrality. "In any case, assuming you all truly have no intentions of listening to reason... I propose we make haste. Masters, please remain close to me as originally stated, ideally with one of your radars active for my convenience." She normally would assume she wouldn't need such a thing thanks to Shikama's abilities, but the priest's display of slipping past such had her on edge. As for Yusuke... "If you are up for the task, I request that you take the lead and serve as our vanguard. Unless, of course, that sword of yours is merely for show?" Once confirmation was given, she'd have to hurry in relaying the remnants of her quickly-forming plan.

Hopefully this wouldn't go as horribly as she envisioned ಥ_ಥ

"Ye. Just... find Em. Then my sister. Please, get the fuck outta here even." He muttered, his hands fumbling with the MC as he sought the radar capability at his servant's request.
 
The plan was sound, all things considered; much easier to protect the masters shielded in a miniscule place. However, there was a singular issue that became immediately apparent;

The Mobile Contracts did not shrink with everything else.

Danny just vaguely processed that in the process of shrinking, the object in his hand suddenly became massive in a very disorienting moment before he found himself on the path leading to the lab, and from Nadia's side she saw the pair of mobile contracts clatter to the ground. Moreover, trying to touch Danny's just... didn't work. Brighid's she could pick up, but it was if Danny had force field around it that stopped her from even grazing it, no matter how hard she pushed against the mysterious force. additionally, there was one other problem; a message on the screen.

'Warning; relative distance to master greater than thirty feet. four minutes till automatic forfeiture'

"...................................."

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"...............................................Oh. Oh dear." Somewhere in the back of her mind, she made a mental note that using her phantasm to send other masters to her crystal lab would disqualify them in less than five minutes. A just as bloodless approach to victory as breaking their MCs, it was nice to know that a girl had options. Of course, any nice feeling from that and all thoughts on that were completely overshadowed by this unanticipated effect. She had just promised to make them safe and in doing so, she put herself at risk of disappearing from this new existence. She couldn't even take hold of her own master's device. Some kind of field repelled her every attempt, keeping her hand at bay.

Nadia sighed. A quick glance over to Clancy followed and she raised a finger. "Hold, hold that thought." Wasp seemed to more or less blink out of existence, in truth she just instantly shrunk to beyond a visible size. She appeared in her familiar slice of the microverse, and thankfully her master and the poor unconscious one had not had the time to really get anywhere in here, so she would not have to track them down. She dashed up to the pair, coming to a stop with a sheepish and apologetic look on her face. "Hi again. Sorry about this. I really thought that plan would work better." She planted a hand upon his shoulder and then all three of them popped back up in an instant back where they had been in the FWZ.

Whereupon she instantly knelt down by her master's dropped device and leaned her face in as close as it could get before yelling. "There! Stop your countdown, obstinate machine! We have returned!!"
 
"We just need somewhere out of the way, that other masters won't look for." Kei replied. "I'd say your house, but that'd imply you'd trust every person in that class with your life. Somewhere else? Somewhere your just your brother would know?"

She caught the eye of the security guard, who narrowed his eyes and started to walk towards them. She sighed.
"Either way, we either need to move or I need to kill that man. Take us to the nearest bathroom." she ordered, not bothering with explaining.

"I mean, besides my closest friends in the Marcus and in the club and... Emily, too, I guess? Yeah, that's a no to my house. There's only one place I can really think of right now, it's a stupid gaming cafe not far from here, Hex & Company. Relatively speaking. We go there sometimes, our own little stupid sibling thing we do." Patience answered, rambling over her own words as she fought to rein herself under control.

Despite being totally in the right to completely lose her shit like any normal rational person would do. ( ´ ▽ ` )b

"But like I just said, we're not leavingohp he's looking our way." Her words came to a halt, almost a choke in her throat that followed with a sheepish expression which certainly did nothing to discourage the guard's wary eye.

She was already blowing it, a sore thumb nattering at a figure that wasn't so much as out of place in the school as to be utterly anachronistic, easily mistaken for a member of a reviled organization of the 1940s.

Without really thinking about it, Patience interlinked her fingers into Leon's own, pulling her closer to herself much to her own servant's discomfort with certainty before leaning in to affect the air of a new couple performing egregious acts of PDA. What looked to be a whisper of sweet nothings really was a shaky urging to follow her along for that bathroom. In spite of the awkwardness underpinning that entire thing, to those watching, it mostly passed as genuine. At least on Patience's part.

A practiced quirk of the head and a sultry indication with the eyes before Patience pulled Leon along after her, she'd have made her way for the bathroom in question with an iota of urgency to her movements cementing that she really had every reason to be there with seemingly her girlfriend.

She's gonna fucking set me on fire for this, I just know it. Not my ideal brand of hot.

Hopefully it was before long they made it there and they could further hash out the details.

While ignoring the fact that Leon totally looked like a Nazi paraded through the station with a student as their significant other! Maybe it could be written off as a very convincing cosplay out of the blue. Do these people even remotely have any idea about Dies Irae oh my god. ( ´ ▽ ` )b
 

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