Fandom Fate Coda Continued (Closed)

[Gus Gungus]

"... I-I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. Obviously" she added, almost wry past her nerves.​

"Brilliantly observed," came her flat retort, displeasure like a needle of ice straight to the bloodstream. Her voice echoed forth into the darkness through gritted teeth, a short, venomous exhale through the nose having preceded it when the urging step or two forward she took failed to encourage Emily to keep moving like she wanted.
​

"...But... but thats my best friend back there. Closest thing I have to sibling. if... if he died and I didn't try to...."​

"Don't bother finishing that sentence. Let me take a wild guess, little girl, and you tell me how much or how little it makes you think."

She didn't bother keeping her voice down, an odd auditory-visual cue if one paid attention to just how still Shiki could be when she wanted to give off a certain air. There could be a certain security in that, in observing the stance of one immune to the effects pressure or fear could wring from the body, who maintained a surety of step and sense of poise no matter the situation.

This wasn't that. There was no comfort to be found here. It would've been somewhat accurate to say Shiki was still in the way a coiled snake was still, a panther in the undergrowth, but even that didn't quite cover it.

Shiki Ryougi was still like a corpse. Like something with a heart that didn't beat, that had been to the other side, that had no business standing up and walking around with the rest of them. She stood like something that didn't belong.

"If he died, and you did nothing..."



And when she finally turned, the gleam in her eyes and sinister edge to her voice did little to dissuade that notion, words designed to shock and unsettle and gaze an unearthly spiral that once again lingered a touch too long on Emily's neck.

"Would you hang yourself?"



She took a step towards her, hand inching for the kimono sash under her jacket, and the only thing Emily remembered seeing was a blur of motion and a glint of steel—
​

She trailed off, but it wasn't out of nerves or a wayward sentence; it was from an apprehensive frown as her brow furrowed at what her light was revealing.

A thin green mist, coiling and writhing after them like it was alive, a worldess but pained murmur beginning to tickle at the edge of Shiki's ears well before Emily would ever hear it

—which snipped a few strands of hair away if she flinched in the wrong direction, but nothing more than that. Shiki continued her slow, almost hypnotic amble either over or around the artist depending on whether she ended up horizontal or vertical, eyes taking careful note of where her knife had embedded itself in after she whipped it with lethal precision for the haze of mist's most central and obvious death line. She was more interested in the effect it the mist itself, though, and from the way she tossed her voice back up the tunnel with confrontational indifference it seemed she had decided to forego the game of cat and mouse any longer.

"Oi. Anyone listening? We should be far enough from the rest that they're away from the danger for now. Might as well do it here."

She smirked, deathly calm yet sharpened with ill intent.

"Besides, I already have one snivelling little freeloader trailing around after me like a scolded dog. She's not looking for company."​

 

[MyrtenRose]

Nobu had returned.

Much like a balloon being pulled down to earth by its string, the voice of Lucille's servant grounded her a bit. Eyes fluttered fully open, while her head turned in the direction of her voice. "Nobu. You left me," she pointed out, not angry, simply pointing out a fact. "Jamie and her partner saved me," she explained before gesturing at her foot with a severely trembling hand. "But I'm going to die if I don't get this treated." That was probably an overstatement, but to Luci it didn't feel that way thanks to her low tolerance for pain.

"...I did." She agreed with a frown, unable to meet Lucille's eyes with her own as she peered to the side. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't keep you safe from multiple opponents and fight them at my best at the same time. It was too much to juggle." She refrained from pointing out what seemed perfectly obvious to her, that there was a good chance Lucille really would have died if she had not dragged them to her world and fought them there. That part didn't need to be brought up. Yet, at the same time, she'd left her master vulnerable too. Nobu had hoped that no other servant would come upon her master while she was gone, but that turned out to be a fool's hope, clearly. The Demon King had won the battle but had come very near to losing the war. That whole situation ran dangerously close to damned if you do, damned if you don't.

She finally looked back at Lucille, looking her right in the eyes with a supremely apologetic expression. "I'm truly sorry, Private Lucille, but believe me, there's nothing I won't do for my soldiers, or my friends. I'd fight the gods themselves to keep you alive. I swear. You didn't ask for this war, but I'll do everything I can to get you through it." Another thing she kept herself from saying out loud was that it was rare for people to get through war unscathed, and that the pain could get so much worse. Hell, their first battle together and they'd both been wounded. Speaking of which...

"Yeah, I know, we got to get you to the medics, or bring them to you...is there a way to contact somebody for that?" Nobu asked. "If not, I'll get you to them regardless, but gotta thank those two for the save first. Once they're done with their celebratory embraces. Keep the wound wrapped tight and the pressure on. I'll get you fixed up in no time...oh, and master? After I get you to the medics, you think you can send me to storage then? Not that I want to leave you again but this really huuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrttttttttttsssss and I don't know how long I can play stoic about it. I need some heals too." ​

 

[MyrtenRose]

Leonardo stood awkwardly to the side, his arms crossed with a mixture of disgust and sympathy as MJ tossed their physical cookies and then their emotional ones. When they were finally finished, he moved to the opposite side of them that Alucard was on (gingerly stepping over Breakfast's Revenge) and squatted down on the other side to put a comforting hand on their shoulder.

"Hey. You're still conscious, which is better than some, and youre not screaming, so even one more point in your favor. This is... crazy doesn't even really describe it. I'm still not sure this isn't just like, a dream."

The kinda dream he had all the time honestly, which wasn't really helping him parse that as a truth or fiction, but now wasn't the time to think about that stuff; a point punctuated by a flinch as the beam that engulfed war chose then to roar out the remains of the window above them. He looked up at the sight of War, steam rising off him and much of the cloth he wore in charred tatters, but still standing as he snarled and strode back out of view.

"But you're here, I'm here, and there's clearly someone trying to get samus aran to kill us or more likely Masie at this point. Dunno about you, but I'd rather not go out day one, even if winning's a long shot. Lets do something about that, yea?" He said, a bit of forced confidence bringing up a grin as he held up the MC he'd been fiddling with while they'd been down here to show Alucard and MJ the screen; and the radar he'd figured out how to use that showed a master clearly located in the library opposite the wall of the school MJ was leaning on.

They didn't know exactly why but there was something about him, like hints of something they'd known once, or just a general gut punch vibe that had them not feeling as comforted by the hand on their shoulder as Leo probably intended it to be, but they didn't really have the time to process that. They were still struggling to process everything else that was going on. The throwing up had stopped at least, but...the guy was right, crazy was an understatement. So MJ just accepted the intended comforting gesture without saying anything about it or pulling away from it. "Right...right." They said instead, looking at the screen and then slowly nodding. MJ turned to look up at their servant after: "You think you can get them and disable their uh..." Shit what was it called again...? They just shook their head and gestured at Leo's MC. "That thing. Think you can break their that thing? That works, yeah? We get out of here and nobody else needs to die?" Other than Samus, which sucks, it would be so cool to get to talk to her about her life...motherfucking Samus, brought to life right here! ​

 

[Indolent]

It didn't last past that, the young soldier's expression immediately falling into a scowl as she released patience's hand before she strode across the row of stalls, checking with her senses whether they were alone. Unsurprisingly this deep into the school day, they were, and she turned on her heel to march back towards patience with a dark glower. Before the student could formulate any sort of response, she found Leonhart's arm slammed against her throat, pushing her back into the door to hold her in place as he other hand rested over the pocket where the girl's MC was.

"Let's get this straight right away. I'm not here to be your friend. I'm definitely not here to be your toy. The weird eyes one and your brother's servant had it right. I'm a monster. You can trust me to keep you alive, because it keeps me alive. You can trust me to work together with you, because I can't win unless you win. You can trust me to keep your brother safe, because even a monster can understand that. Maybe even your friends, if it helps us win. But that's where the line ends. Are we clear?" she snarled, Patience feeling her skin where Leonhart was touching raising in temperature in a way that had nothing to do hormones or nerves.

Oh god, oh fuck. That actually worked, they managed to get under the guard's skin and make him fuck off. And got to the bathroom without anyone else giving so much a shit. Which, yeah, tracks considering besides the old guy not being a fan of what he thought he saw that it was a number of other people not unlike Patience herself. An enduring trend throughout time was that people tended to be incredibly self absorbed, preoccupied by a number of things. Maybe it was all the more true when it came to teenagers but in any case, it was a goddamn blessing.

Patience naturally let her hand slip out of Kei's, a tired exhale outward as she meandered to a wall just to catch her breath.

She was thankful she'd managed to draw just enough of one before her servant made the Eve's Apple of her throat intimately familiar with the length of her forearm, the surprise causing a squeak and a minor exhale to follow. A series of blinks followed, making it clear she processed what the fuck just happened. A process that occurred within an infinitesimally small time frame as the lithe Munroe returned the sentiment with a bite no less severe than Leonhart's own.

"No fuckin' shit, I know you're no friend. Nor a toy, I didn't do that because I thought it'd be funny, it was the only thing I thought would work and not end with that guard dying for no fuckin' reason. Get the FUCK off of me."

A meager show of resistance was made by Patience as she railed against her own servant, sparing no iota of effort in the act. It was in that moment just how clear the sheer difference there was between a servant and a human. It didn't dissuade her from continuing, instead emboldening her to shove Leon off her person. She wasn't oblivious to the increasing temperature across her skin either, it only inspired further urgency in her motions akin to a cornered animal that was badgered with no relent.

Whether Leon released her or not, Patience remained where she was, drawing breath as she continued with her eyes centered squarely on her servant's own.

"I have the vaguest fuckin' idea of who you are, ye, you're a monster. So what. I don't care about that right now. Do not patronize me, I'm aware we need each other. You realize I'm already cooperating with you?" An incredulous scowl was made abundantly plain within her face, her angular features accentuated by the expression so as to pointedly emphasize her displeasure in all this.

"And there's no ultimatum you can make when it comes to my brother or my friends. They're an immutable condition in our relationship. Burn me, yell at me if you want but I'm not changing my fucking mind on that. Now, all that said... if that's all you wanted to make so fucking abundantly clear, let's get a move on."

The tone of her words were uttered with such finality it was as if she dared Leonhart to find a single point of contention in what was said, to press the issue further. That was the primary, the overtone, with her undertone being borderline invisible but not completely subsumed, the telltale emotional quivering of a frightened person struggling to come to grips with everything.

If Patience had to stay here any longer instead of actually getting a move on, she couldn't be sure if she could suppress the cavalcade of emotions that started in the classroom any longer and avoid a sobbing breakdown in the restroom.

 

[Indolent]

Marcus heard what Yusuke had to say, jolted in terror and a deep sense of dread as the scream came from the tunnel, and, with very distraught but focused eyes, glanced over to Father Trifa with a wordless question.

The priest gave a troubled smile and adjusted his glasses. "I'm truly sorry. While I I can appreciate the young samurai's choice of ritual suicide, befitting the honor of his homeland, it would not be befitting myself as a man of the cloth to endorse it. That aside, there is a ten hour reflection period after a servant is lost before another can be chosen. And that..."

He glanced up and to the side, down the tunnel that Emily had disappeared down, where the green mist that had been faintly spewing forth after the sound of the scream began to thicken, and a figure could be seen loping through the hazy red of the emergency lights a few moments Shinoa's Detection sensed its approach

"...is time I do not believe you have."



The figure cleared the mist entirely and stepped forward, calmly enough. It was a rotund, almost comically spherical human dressed in what seemed to be a black jumpsuit, with an equally bulbous head that was mindlessly chewing on one of its own fingers as it cocked its head quizzically to the side as it regarded the group standing before the pile of half eaten corpses on the tram.

"...Can I eats them?" The creature asked in an almost childlike voice

Marcus' eyes immediately widened in recognition as he glanced around Fox, and he found himself giving an reply out of panic as he spun the servant around to face the newcomer.

"Nah. nope, nope, inedible, taste like shit, dont-"

The other reply came from farther in the mist echoed more than spoke, a feminine tone backed be an almost silent chorus of hundreds.

'YeS.'

View attachment 993739

The thing's mouth widened as its eyes began to glow, and it cackled as it lunged with inhuman speed to with both arms extended for Shinoa as its mouth distended, trying to swallow her top half whole in one go

"Wait, why do I know that voi--" A squawk was the cap of that sentence, an unbecoming punctuation as the realization slammed into Gavin as akin to a sedan struck by a fully loaded freight train.

He was slapping Marcus's shoulder-blade without end, the sheer kinetic transference of it liable to fuse the bones in the vicinity together as he gawped at the one fucking anime he was aware of.

"THAT'S THAT'S FUCKIN GLUTTONY. JESUS CHRIST OH MY GOD SHINOA DO NOT GO ANYWHERE NEAR HIS GODDAMN MOUTH SHINOA YOU GET ME HE WILL EAT YOU AND THAT'S NOT ALL YOU'LL BE STUCK IN A FUCKIN AWFUL PLACE SHINOA TELL ME YOU UNDERSTAND ME WE NEED TO GO NOW RUN--"

 

[Daft Monk]

Atop the war going on all around them, the third youngest McNamara found himself faced with an internal war just as well. The blood-spattered room felt like a prison, trapping him both physically and mentally. He didn't have the strength to move, nor could his violently trembling legs carry him even if he'd tried. So when Yusuke's pleading cries hit his ears, the anxiety-riddled lad almost broke right then and there. To see one of his classmates mercilessly shot down, and to witness one of the renowned Phantom Thieves in such a state as he faded away right before their eyes, all while his sister had collapsed...

He couldn't fathom that he'd nearly thought this war endeavor might be a neat opportunity.

He tried to make himself move, placing both his palms flat on the desk on which he leaned in order to hold himself up where his legs had failed. He was so engrossed in the effort of remaining upright despite his shaking like a leaf that Nadia's first words to him didn't even register, but the abrupt slap to his back from Sho was indeed enough to snap him out of his stupor. "Rrkh!" he grunted, his hands closing into fists as he channeled even more effort into maintaining his semi-standing position. But... What was he saying? How could he be so callous? It made Clancy want to whirl on him, to scream and demand he not disrespect the girl who'd just died in such a way. But in the end, the meek boy didn't have it in him. And even if he did, deep down, he knew it'd amount to nothing. The matter sickened him in the moment, but Sho really did have every reason to remain unaffected by death; though, the mockery was something Clancy could do without.

None of those things much mattered in the moment, though. He had bigger things to worry about, and, loathe as he was to admit it... Sho was right. He had to get it together. He honestly doubted he could, what with his body still trembling uncontrollably and his mind having scrambled more thoroughly than an egg, but he needed to try. If he didn't, then... then what if it cost someone else? What if the next one to fall was Marcus, or Patience, or... or his sister?

The notion of harm coming to any of his classmates was akin to 50,000 volts straight to the nipples, and the male shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it and reacquaint himself with his surroundings alike. It was only then that he fully noted Nadia and Daniel's presence, and mild relief washed over him upon realizing Brighid was with them as well. It diminished greatly, of course, when he noted her unconsciousness and the crimson coating her skin and clothes and who was carrying her, but at least she was alive. Like a prayer to the heavens above, a soft whisper left his lips in the pairs direction, for it was all he could manage; "...Thank you."

Conversely, Daniel looked anything but relieved. Getting thrown in and out of the microzone was bad enough on its own, but he had no clue what the fuck was going on. Especially since both his and Clancy's servants were speaking absolute gibberish, as far as he was concerned. "English, please," he implored them both, though despite the 'please', he sounded more frustrated than anything. Fortunately, 'getting the hell out of here' was something he could comprehend. And definitely a plan he liked the sound of. Eagerly, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, alright. Let's get the hell out of here. I am not carrying Clonamara though, that's--" Whatever he was about to say was promptly cut short by the manhole-turned-bowling ball plummeting straight for his head. Hopefully, one of the servants was able to handle that, 'cause he sure as fuck wasn't fast enough to duck by the time it came into view.​

 

[Kitsune Mask]

Grateful as he was that a mild slap to the back was enough to shake Clancy out of his stupor, Sho Minamimoto could still see the way his meek master was looking at him—along with the others in the room, for that matter. So far, he had just spoken cold, calculated words, having taken no real action to show what he was worth. The reaper didn't like to do much work unless he had to, but he felt that it was getting high time he showed the others that he wasn't just a mathematical genius who observed the group with a crazy glint in his eye. He could be useful and was, in fact, a team player even if he loathed being one. He hadn't exactly witness the Frieza situation, but he intended to prevent anything like that from happening to himself.

That was exactly why, when a manhole cover frisbee of death came whirring towards the head of someone in their group, the man actually did something. With reflexes befitting Shibuya's youngest game master—a promotion not given to just anyone—Minamimoto dug a hand into his pocket and whipped out an object that was none other than a small, round button that looked like something a teenager would have pinned to their flashy backpack. It was purple with white stars decorating it and fixed firmly in its center was a bold letter D. Hand clasped with the pin gravitated in the direction of Danny and the object. It would freeze in midair just inches away from his face, entrapped in a telekinetic force of some kind, before dropping to the ground with a metallic ringing.

"Took out the trash for ya, radian. You can thank me later," he said with a smug grin, lowering his arm and completely ignoring Daniel's request for him to speak English. At least, now the group could see that he was more than just fancy math words. He could fight and he was fancy math words. "That won't be the last one. Getting out of here at 299,792,458 mps is our best bet."
​

 

[Kitsune Mask]

The entirety of Fox's body would flinch in unison with Marcus when the sound of a scream from the tunnel would hit his ears. He was a trembling, jumpy, anxious mess at the moment, almost in no shape to function, and wracked with guilt to boot. The teen's guilt revolved around feeling like he had failed Lucyfer and his final thoughts before vanishing from her presence. At the end of it all, he had been more worried about his own life than anything else. How selfish. How dreadful. Yusuke was utterly disgusted with himself. A girl had lost her life and he had been... more focused on his own mortality. How could someone so worried for their own life be expected to protect yet another master? Marcus didn't deserve him. This person deserved someone stronger, braver, and cooler under pressure. Joker should've been chosen for this, not him.

But, apparently, he was here and wasn't going anywhere. The thief's heart would sink inside the walls of his chest as he processed what the priest had to say. He was stuck here for ten more hours at the very least. Mood swinging as wildly as his samurai sword could, Yusuke growled and grabbed the priest by his collar, glaring with eyes that would flicker briefly with a golden hue. "How could you be so cruel!? Did you not hear the words I uttered? I cannot protect this boy. He is going to die in my charge. I-I simply cannot fail another master!" Teeth gritting together, he shoved the priest back and turned away, pressing his hands against his face. This was all too much to bear. The young Kitagawa was used to traumatic situations due to his rough upbringing, but they were all of the domestic sort. This war-related nonsense was not something he was built for.

Joker, on the other hand, would've been far better at knowing what to do right now. In fact, Joker more than likely wouldn't have failed his first master as Yusuke had. Down to the very core of his friend's soul, Akira Kurusu was built to be a leader, a fighter, and someone who could think quickly on his feet. What would he do at a time like this? Admittedly, Yusuke knew the answer to his question already. Joker would protect his new master, even if he didn't think this person would survive in the end. He would give it his all, down to his very last breath. Though Fox didn't have the confidence he could do the same thing, at the very least he could try, yes? He had to try. It was all he could do at this point.

Despite his fear and uncertainty, he did have a worthy, heroic heart. It showed almost instantly when Gluttony attacked Shinoa, his body moving before he even thought. Before he had even blinked, he was in front of Shinoa, blade drawn, and his persona summoned in front of them. Goemon gave a shove in Gluttony's direction, icy shards spilling out that could scoot the enemy back enough to give them time to prepare. Hands still trembling, even as he grasped his sword, Fox looked over his shoulder back at Marcus. "I cannot guarantee your safety, but I can guarantee every last breath in my body will be spent doing my very best to keep you alive." That was all he could offer for now.​

 

[Kitsune Mask]

A pregnant pause was given as Lucille listened to what Nobu had to explain. "You're so good at juggling you should be in a circus," she commented with the voice of a rusted old robot, intending for her statement to be a joke. "Get it, circus?" Joking was what people did to lighten the mood, wasn't it? And didn't the mood need to be lightened after all they had been through? Lucille honestly wasn't sure, but she could've sworn that was something her grandmother had suggested before. In any case, Lucille decided she was just glad to be alive after all of that. At least, as glad as someone like her could really be.

"I accept your apology, but I don't really understand why you gave it. You didn't inflict these wounds on me and you didn't force our enemies to attack," she stated, blinking owlishly. There were many things she didn't understand in this world, especially when it came to the innerworkings of emotions, but apologizes always confused her the most. More often than not, people apologized for things that weren't their fault, even going so far as to toss them out more readily than a casual greeting. That was one thing Luci doubted she could ever fully understand even with more training to recognize social cues.

When questioned about bringing medical help to them, Luci gave a nod. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her usual cell phone. "I can call for an ambulance, or I can use gps to direct us to the nearest hospital." The redhead made the closest thing she could to an expression by slightly narrowing her eyes when Nobu would insist she kept pressure on the wound. "It hurts to do that." She wasn't going to anything to cause herself more pain, even if it would help in the long run. As for Nobu's plea to be moved into storage after this, Lucille shrugged mechanically. "I'm assuming you do not mean I have to rent a storage unit. I do not have the money to do so anyhow. How do I put you in storage?" In any case, she intended to wait until she had her foot treated before Nobu left her side. It would be a bad call to send away the only real help she had.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

That was exactly why, when a manhole cover frisbee of death came whirring towards the head of someone in their group, the man actually did something. With reflexes befitting Shibuya's youngest game master—a promotion not given to just anyone—Minamimoto dug a hand into his pocket and whipped out an object that was none other than a small, round button that looked like something a teenager would have pinned to their flashy backpack. It was purple with white stars decorating it and fixed firmly in its center was a bold letter D. Hand clasped with the pin gravitated in the direction of Danny and the object. It would freeze in midair just inches away from his face, entrapped in a telekinetic force of some kind, before dropping to the ground with a metallic ringing.

Nadia had just been about to intervene herself, ready to enlarge herself as much as she could in this space and catch the improvised weapon with her enhanced strength. Score a touchdown, as the American teens said, she was sure that was what that planned maneuver would basically be. But it was proven unnecessary, as the other servant stepped up to handle the potentially deadly situation. Quite efficiently, even! "Nice one!" Part of her mind wondered if that was more Jean Grey style, or rocking the Magneto power, or maybe ole Graviton ability...something to ask later!​

"Took out the trash for ya, radian. You can thank me later," he said with a smug grin, lowering his arm and completely ignoring Daniel's request for him to speak English.

"That's still not the right use of the word."​

"That won't be the last one. Getting out of here at 299,792,458 mps is our best bet."

"...It most assuredly is not! Moving at that speed would certainly kill our masters most gruesomely!!!"​

 

[MyrtenRose]

A pregnant pause was given as Lucille listened to what Nobu had to explain. "You're so good at juggling you should be in a circus," she commented with the voice of a rusted old robot, intending for her statement to be a joke. "Get it, circus?" Joking was what people did to lighten the mood, wasn't it? And didn't the mood need to be lightened after all they had been through? Lucille honestly wasn't sure, but she could've sworn that was something her grandmother had suggested before. In any case, Lucille decided she was just glad to be alive after all of that. At least, as glad as someone like her could really be.

"...Okita could learn something from you about making ter--I mean great jokes!" Nobu self corrected almost immediately, deciding mid syllable that Lucille didn't need to have her mood put down after all that she had already gone through. If her mood could even be put down. Jury was still out on that one.​

"I accept your apology, but I don't really understand why you gave it. You didn't inflict these wounds on me and you didn't force our enemies to attack," she stated, blinking owlishly. There were many things she didn't understand in this world, especially when it came to the innerworkings of emotions, but apologizes always confused her the most. More often than not, people apologized for things that weren't their fault, even going so far as to toss them out more readily than a casual greeting. That was one thing Luci doubted she could ever fully understand even with more training to recognize social cues.

"ALL TRUE!" She agreed, more than happy to leave it at that and not have to go into the whole guilt explanation.​

When questioned about bringing medical help to them, Luci gave a nod. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her usual cell phone. "I can call for an ambulance, or I can use gps to direct us to the nearest hospital."​

"Good, good. Sounds like a plan either way." ​

The redhead made the closest thing she could to an expression by slightly narrowing her eyes when Nobu would insist she kept pressure on the wound. "It hurts to do that." She wasn't going to anything to cause herself more pain, even if it would help in the long run.

"But..." ​

As for Nobu's plea to be moved into storage after this, Lucille shrugged mechanically. "I'm assuming you do not mean I have to rent a storage unit. I do not have the money to do so anyhow. How do I put you in storage?" In any case, she intended to wait until she had her foot treated before Nobu left her side. It would be a bad call to send away the only real help she had.

"No. Not that. It should be a function of your device. I think. Not sure, the pointy nosed bastard and those two annoying punks that were with him distracted me with their crappy attitudes I didn't get all of what they said." Nobu shrugged. "Check your thing. The thing that isn't your phone but is like your phone." ​

 

[Gus Gungus]

MJ let out a few last coughs before shaking their head no. They took a few steps back to get away from the vomit and sat down, their back slumped against the wall. “…Sorry.” MJ directed over toward Alucard, with an expression that was equal parts embarrassed and apologetic. “I…I dunno how much choice you had, getting here like this. But probably not how you envisioned a war with a 1000 warriors from god knows what, with who knows what kinda crazy powers, would start. With you having to watch over some kid struggling to keep what little breakfast they got down and all, instead of fighting or whatever. Sorry.” They repeated.

“I just wasn’t prepared for today. I didn’t know this was something I should’ve expected. Just figured on another day at school, not anything like this. War. With like, characters from comics or movies or games and everything. Sounds like a bad joke, but…it’s real. Those people, they died. Right there, just like that. I mean, I’ve seen death before, but it was different. It was…a long time coming. Could prepare for it to come. Try to make myself ready to mourn him. But those back there…it was like…a switch just got turned off. One moment they’re alive and the next, they’re gone, and that realization that this is not a joke and it’s really real and it’s happening hit like a truck pushing 90 on the 495, and I wasn’t prepared for it. And then you…”

They shook their head. “Sorry.” MJ said one more time.​

Leonardo stood awkwardly to the side, his arms crossed with a mixture of disgust and sympathy as MJ tossed their physical cookies and then their emotional ones. When they were finally finished, he moved to the opposite side of them that Alucard was on (gingerly stepping over Breakfast's Revenge) and squatted down on the other side to put a comforting hand on their shoulder.

"Hey. You're still conscious, which is better than some, and youre not screaming, so even one more point in your favor. This is... crazy doesn't even really describe it. I'm still not sure this isn't just like, a dream."

The kinda dream he had all the time honestly, which wasn't really helping him parse that as a truth or fiction, but now wasn't the time to think about that stuff; a point punctuated by a flinch as the beam that engulfed war chose then to roar out the remains of the window above them. He looked up at the sight of War, steam rising off him and much of the cloth he wore in charred tatters, but still standing as he snarled and strode back out of view.

"But you're here, I'm here, and there's clearly someone trying to get samus aran to kill us or more likely Masie at this point. Dunno about you, but I'd rather not go out day one, even if winning's a long shot. Lets do something about that, yea?" He said, a bit of forced confidence bringing up a grin as he held up the MC he'd been fiddling with while they'd been down here to show Alucard and MJ the screen; and the radar he'd figured out how to use that showed a master clearly located in the library opposite the wall of the school MJ was leaning on.​

If Leonardo cut an awkward figure during his purported master's emotional outpour then Alucard was a marble statue of that figure, the very sentiment of unease plucked from a moment and committed to the annals of eternity. He was in no mood to offer any true comfort to anyone, and in truth was no one's choice of trauma counselor even if he had been; his was a difficult countenance to read at the best of times, which this most certainly wasn't. Still, he listened, the solemn stare he kept fixed on MJ attentive even if it offered little in the way of solace.

"...There, there?"

Well, no one could accuse him of not trying. Nevertheless there was a soft, almost imperceptible sigh of relief when their classmate stepped in, and by the time he was through with his own encouragement the vampiric prince had collected his thoughts enough to make a more sustained effort, eyes the color of richest gold in the heat of a forge flitting back open to once more affix them with a stare that was cold all the same.

"There's no apology to make, and you wouldn't be the one to make it if there was. It's... difficult for me to envision the position you're in. Ludicrous premise aside, war and death are a reality of the life I came from. Or... was under the impression I came from."

His brow furrowed, the mere lightest broaching of the subject enough to crystallise the realisation that he very much didn't want to get into it.

"But I can claim some experience with shielding the unwary, which is what I intend to do. Now come. We haven't time for this."
​

They didn't know exactly why but there was something about him, like hints of something they'd known once, or just a general gut punch vibe that had them not feeling as comforted by the hand on their shoulder as Leo probably intended it to be, but they didn't really have the time to process that. They were still struggling to process everything else that was going on. The throwing up had stopped at least, but...the guy was right, crazy was an understatement. So MJ just accepted the intended comforting gesture without saying anything about it or pulling away from it. "Right...right." They said instead, looking at the screen and then slowly nodding. MJ turned to look up at their servant after: "You think you can get them and disable their uh..." Shit what was it called again...? They just shook their head and gestured at Leo's MC. "That thing. Think you can break their that thing? That works, yeah? We get out of here and nobody else needs to die?" Other than Samus, which sucks, it would be so cool to get to talk to her about her life...motherfucking Samus, brought to life right here! ​

The exchange and accompanying query were taken in with the same ever-vigilant eyes by their stoic protector, and when the latter came he let them flicker shut; brow knitting in thought and another soft, rueful sigh given as his mind once more scrolled back through the events of his 'life'. Such as it was.

...and nobody else needs to die?

"That depends."

Only upon further prompting—if any came—did he open them again, levelling the pair with a stare that somehow managed to be somber, hard, and yet overwhelmingly sad all at once, despite the fact that his features shifted barely so much as a millimetre.

"On whether trust is as difficult to come by in your kind as it is in the stories you write."

And then he was gone, form suddenly exploding into a shower of bats that flapped up, up, and around the corner, leaving the two masters alone in the alleyway as the war raged around them.​

 

[Kitsune Mask]

"That's still not the right use of the word."

“Pretty eels make dates and salad.”
​

"...It most assuredly is not! Moving at that speed would certainly kill our masters most gruesomely!!!"

“Hard disagree. They’re at least as tough as 2.8 gigapascals. They can handle it.”

He was definitely doing this on purpose now.​

 

[Daft Monk]

Gavin's protest was met with a heaved sigh, Shinoa's features bearing a solemnity that seemed unbefitting of such a petite and innocuous girl. She'd expected such a response from him, but that didn't mean it didn't weigh on her. Still, she was used to bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders; this was no exception. "I understand," she assured, her voice steady despite the circumstances. She didn't make any effort to stop him when he pulled away, though she nevertheless didn't take her eyes off of them. "However, there is something I need you to understand. There is no mending what has come to pass. The extent of my abilities is to ascertain that the lot of you do not meet the same fate. Bearing this in mind, please; do what you can to bear through the pain."

"...This goes for you as well," she added, casting her gaze upon Yusuke. It was plain to her that he was no real warrior. If anything, he was much more like the students they were protecting; a child, lost and afraid, with no sense of direction in this grim and lawless place. He was a stranger to the arts of war, to the tooth and nail fight to stay alive in a world that seemed to long for nothing more than your demise. She couldn't help but pity him, ironic as it may have been; a child had no place fighting in this war. No place being in charge of another child's life. But the forces that had cast them here had no regard for such things. That was apparent based not only on their masters' situations, but on the priest's answer to Yusuke's words, as well. "You may have had your first master stolen from you... but you've an opportunity to keep that from happening to another. My question is, will you take it? Bear in mind, your life is not the only one on the line." Undoubtedly, it was unfair of her to leverage the children's lives in influencing Yusuke's choice. But it was simply the truth of the matter; the entire situation, by nature, was the epitome of unfair. And they would cope with that fact... or they would die. That was the kind of world they'd found themselves in.

With that in mind, she did her best to disregard Yusuke's plight for the moment. In the case he were to fail to make the correct choice, she needed to be prepared to handle the tunnel's other occupants on her lonesome. Certainly not the ideal scenario, but it very well could boil down to being her only option in the end. "Thank you," she uttered as her master brought up the radar. Except, what was on the screen clued her into the enemy's approach even before her scythe screamed of the new presence. "Shit," she murmured to herself, her eyebrows knitting together as her eyes snapped forward. "There is no more time for chatter! Master, please; activate that phantasm!" she barked. In a swift motion, she was poised for battle, her massive scythe spinning to life as she held her defensive position before the masters. She was fully prepared to cleave the gaping maw charging for her in two outright, but an unexpected blur of movement put her to a stop as Yusuke leaped into the fray, placing himself before her and intercepting the beastly man. She blinked with seeming surprise at this development, but a small smile formed on her lips, the mildest relief washing over her. "Well said," she offered softly, "now duck--"

In stark contrast to the undertones of appreciation in those first two words, the latter carried the steel and authority of a soldier, leaving no room for argument. Assuming Yusuke and Goemon cleared her path as she ordered, her scythe would swing in a clean arc toward Gluttony. Whether or not the blade itself connected was of little import, a wave of demonic flame roaring to life and soaring forth. Hopefully the beast enjoyed the taste of hell.​

 

[Daft Monk]

Nadia had just been about to intervene herself, ready to enlarge herself as much as she could in this space and catch the improvised weapon with her enhanced strength. Score a touchdown, as the American teens said, she was sure that was what that planned maneuver would basically be. But it was proven unnecessary, as the other servant stepped up to handle the potentially deadly situation. Quite efficiently, even! "Nice one!" Part of her mind wondered if that was more Jean Grey style, or rocking the Magneto power, or maybe ole Graviton ability...something to ask later!



"That's still not the right use of the word."

"...It most assuredly is not! Moving at that speed would certainly kill our masters most gruesomely!!!"​

“Pretty eels make dates and salad.”



“Hard disagree. They’re at least as tough as 2.8 gigapascals. They can handle it.”

He was definitely doing this on purpose now.​

​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Oh god, oh fuck. That actually worked, they managed to get under the guard's skin and make him fuck off. And got to the bathroom without anyone else giving so much a shit. Which, yeah, tracks considering besides the old guy not being a fan of what he thought he saw that it was a number of other people not unlike Patience herself. An enduring trend throughout time was that people tended to be incredibly self absorbed, preoccupied by a number of things. Maybe it was all the more true when it came to teenagers but in any case, it was a goddamn blessing.

Patience naturally let her hand slip out of Kei's, a tired exhale outward as she meandered to a wall just to catch her breath.

She was thankful she'd managed to draw just enough of one before her servant made the Eve's Apple of her throat intimately familiar with the length of her forearm, the surprise causing a squeak and a minor exhale to follow. A series of blinks followed, making it clear she processed what the fuck just happened. A process that occurred within an infinitesimally small time frame as the lithe Munroe returned the sentiment with a bite no less severe than Leonhart's own.

"No fuckin' shit, I know you're no friend. Nor a toy, I didn't do that because I thought it'd be funny, it was the only thing I thought would work and not end with that guard dying for no fuckin' reason. Get the FUCK off of me."

A meager show of resistance was made by Patience as she railed against her own servant, sparing no iota of effort in the act. It was in that moment just how clear the sheer difference there was between a servant and a human. It didn't dissuade her from continuing, instead emboldening her to shove Leon off her person. She wasn't oblivious to the increasing temperature across her skin either, it only inspired further urgency in her motions akin to a cornered animal that was badgered with no relent.

Whether Leon released her or not, Patience remained where she was, drawing breath as she continued with her eyes centered squarely on her servant's own.

"I have the vaguest fuckin' idea of who you are, ye, you're a monster. So what. I don't care about that right now. Do not patronize me, I'm aware we need each other. You realize I'm already cooperating with you?" An incredulous scowl was made abundantly plain within her face, her angular features accentuated by the expression so as to pointedly emphasize her displeasure in all this.

"And there's no ultimatum you can make when it comes to my brother or my friends. They're an immutable condition in our relationship. Burn me, yell at me if you want but I'm not changing my fucking mind on that. Now, all that said... if that's all you wanted to make so fucking abundantly clear, let's get a move on."

The tone of her words were uttered with such finality it was as if she dared Leonhart to find a single point of contention in what was said, to press the issue further. That was the primary, the overtone, with her undertone being borderline invisible but not completely subsumed, the telltale emotional quivering of a frightened person struggling to come to grips with everything.

If Patience had to stay here any longer instead of actually getting a move on, she couldn't be sure if she could suppress the cavalcade of emotions that started in the classroom any longer and avoid a sobbing breakdown in the restroom.

Leonhart raised an eyebrow at the tirade, but her expression didn't drift from her own hard edged glare past that, and the first words that came out were laced with a quiet, hardened malice as she pressed a little harder so that Patience didn't have the breath to talk back as she found her feet leaving the floor.

"Bold statements. Good. Some fight will do you well here. But no one knows how they handle the kind of pain you're describing til they feel it, and no one is immutable, on anything. Don't make me test you on that."

She stepped back, letting Patience fall back down to the floor as she crossed her arms.

"Your other friend figured out how to put his servant in storage; do the same with me. I can access my other clothes in there, and you can focus on getting to this meeting place."

 

[MidwayLives]

"So..."

"So what, jagoff? You got a reason to be up in my business? Because I got two barrels full of all kinds of reasons why you should take your Halloween USA rear and back the hell off. Now." Ash warned, his hand never slinking away from his boomstick. The prosthetic hand rested firmly on the steering wheel. The engine rumbled like a lion stretching it's muscles and roaming through the pride that it lorded over, ready to roar at a moment's notice and assert itself as the alpha. Ash's shoe rested above the gas, ready to press down if things got ugly. This guy was too close and Ash couldn't piece it together whatever nasty bullshittery he may have had under his thumb.

If Ghostface was perturbed at all by Ash's non too subtle threat to stand down, it never came across in his tone or body language. "Now now, grampa. Don't get yourself all worked up into a state. You go and give yourself a heart attack, who's going to protect the little brat you got buckled in next to you? She'll be left all alone. No protection, nothing." The serial killer tapped his fingers rhythmically on the exterior of Ash's driverside door and twirled his tactical knife around in the other hand. "Against all the threats that're out there now. Freaks, weirdos, hell, maybe even...." Ghostface leaned in and looked past Ash. Jean couldn't see exactly where he was looking due to the fabric on the murderer's mask hiding away his eyes but she still felt unnerved. As though he wasn't looking at her like a person but rather the same way a butcher would look at a cow for slaughter. "...Just a guy in a mask."

"....Ash..."

"Easy, kid. I got this." Ash looked towards Jean and smiled.

In the split second that it took for Ash to turn his head, Ghostface lashed out and grabbed Ash by the neck. "What?? Is dementia setting in already or something, Grandpa??? You're really gonna sit there and act like you don't remember me? The fun we had in the Entity's Realm? Don't bullshit with me or I'll cut open that kid of yours like she's a fucking side of beef!" Ash tried to pull the boomstick out but given Ghostface's current level of proximity, it made things a touch more difficult than they may have been otherwise. "Kid! *cough* The seat! There's a little pull bar under my seat! Yank it!" Having already gotten accustomed enough to keeping her ass and the rest of her in one piece in the short time she'd been a passenger of Ash's car, Jean reached over under Ash's seat and grabbed the black steel bar and pulled with all her might. The seat went slack and fell back, causing Ghostface to trip and plunge half of his torso into the car through the busted out window. All while still gripping onto Ash's throat with a vice grip. "Ack! G-Good going, kid! Really!" Ash complimented as he used his prosthetic hand to grab onto one of the floating tendrils attached to Ghostface's costume and pulled on it, trying to yank the deranged psychopath off him. "Ugh! The hell you get your mask?? I can SMELL the cheap latex from here!"

"YESSS,YESSS STRANGER WHOEVER YOU MIGHT BE! I'LL OFFER YOU WISHES, PLEASURE, TREASURES UNTOLD IF YOU RID ME OF THIS ACCURSED FESTERING BOIL ON HELL'S UNDERBELLY!" The Necronomicon shrieked from within Ash's glove box. "IF I GO, THEN YOU DIE TOO, YA STUPID BOOK!"

"ah. that's true. damn it."

No matter how far you ran, how hard you tried to hide, or if you even managed to escape. It was all pointless in the grand scheme of things. Once you were drawn into the Entity's realm. Whether to serve as one of it's many killers or as a victim, you were there forever. Fated to be chased, tormented, and sacrificed. Over and over again. Ghostface found it to be endearing work and so to encounter one of those said victims and get not only the cold shoulder but seemingly complete ignorance of WHO he was?? That'd been a resound slap in the face! Who could ever forget him?? He had a look that'd stay in the memories of anyone who'd seen him on a moonlit night, lurking in the shadows as though he were one himself. The only saving grace for Ash being that with Ghostface having stumbled into the car at such an awkward angle with one arm busy choking Ash out, he couldn't wedge his dominant one in and stab him to death. All the same, Ash couldn't maneuver his chainsaw or retrieve his boomstick.

So, thus the two struggled, bashing into the steering wheel and setting off the car alarm as they went.

"Ugh...." Jaden rubbed at their head after having been dropped on the ground like an ungraceful sack of potatoes. The tendrils on Ghostface's back may have just looked like regular pieces of fabric. Many of the survivors who'd encountered Ghostface believed the fact that they floated and seemed to twist in the ominous wind that seemed to follow the masked murderer every now and again as just smoke and mirrors. A cheap trick by the Entity in order to frighten the soon to be victims into believing there was more to this guy than just another psycho with a knife.

They couldn't have been more wrong in Jaden's opinion. The tendrils looked like regular cloth but the energy that kept them floating, spitting in the face of gravity and common sense, was derived not from some kind of special effects that Danny had juryrigged(though he'd debated it when first making his costume) but the influence of the Entity working through it's most proud killer. The other killers could attempt to resist it's overtures or defy it's commands but it knew one that never would. He'd never question it's decisions or ponder why he'd been brought here. If he'd ever get to leave.

To him this was as fun as life got. This was the peak, the top.

Why would he ever want to give that up?

So to feel those things wrap around their midsection? It felt like coming into contact with something completely revolting. As though the teenager's flight or fight sensation had been tripped like a wire, their hair standing up on end. As though if they stayed in touch with this 'thing' any longer than absolutely necessary, some kind of filth would forever leave it's mark. Brushing themselves off to the best of their ability, Jaden finally looked up and saw the nightmare that was unfolding before their eyes. "Danny!" They shouted as they raced over to the Oldsmobile, their MC in hand. "DANNY, STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!"

"Better do *cough* what the kid says, pal! *cough*"

"Admit you remember who I am! Do it and I won't rip your miserable head off, you old FUCK!"

Jaden had known from the word go that their pick of a servant would be unruly. That they'd constantly have to fight to reassert their dominance in the fateful partnership between the two of them. They just didn't think it'd be so early on. Pulling their MC out of their satchel, they pressed a button and Ghostface vanished from sight, the pressure immediately relieved around Ash's windpipe. Though he was still left lying flat on his back in the car.

"...*cough* Thanks, kid."

"Ash....Are you ok?" Jean asked, putting forward the same query that Ash had presented to her, just moments prior after the fight with Harry. Ash rubbed at his throat while looking towards Jean. For such a scrawny looking guy, Ghostface had quite the grip on him. Ash was convinced that he would have figured SOMETHING out but better to not worry the kid. Or make her feel any kind of guilt over not doing more. Dealing with demons and psychos was one thing. Comforting an upset high schooler?

Give him the Evil Force anyday.

"Me?"

"Never better."

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

View attachment 994001

If Leonardo cut an awkward figure during his purported master's emotional outpour then Alucard was a marble statue of that figure, the very sentiment of unease plucked from a moment and committed to the annals of eternity. He was in no mood to offer any true comfort to anyone, and in truth was no one's choice of trauma counselor even if he had been; his was a difficult countenance to read at the best of times, which this most certainly wasn't. Still, he listened, the solemn stare he kept fixed on MJ attentive even if it offered little in the way of solace.

"...There, there?"

Well, no one could accuse him of not trying. Nevertheless there was a soft, almost imperceptible sigh of relief when their classmate stepped in, and by the time he was through with his own encouragement the vampiric prince had collected his thoughts enough to make a more sustained effort, eyes the color of richest gold in the heat of a forge flitting back open to once more affix them with a stare that was cold all the same.

"There's no apology to make, and you wouldn't be the one to make it if there was. It's... difficult for me to envision the position you're in. Ludicrous premise aside, war and death are a reality of the life I came from. Or... was under the impression I came from."

His brow furrowed, the mere lightest broaching of the subject enough to crystallise the realisation that he very much didn't want to get into it.

"But I can claim some experience with shielding the unwary, which is what I intend to do. Now come. We haven't time for this."



The exchange and accompanying query were taken in with the same ever-vigilant eyes by their stoic protector, and when the latter came he let them flicker shut; brow knitting in thought and another soft, rueful sigh given as his mind once more scrolled back through the events of his 'life'. Such as it was.

...and nobody else needs to die?

"That depends."

Only upon further prompting—if any came—did he open them again, levelling the pair with a stare that somehow managed to be somber, hard, and yet overwhelmingly sad all at once, despite the fact that his features shifted barely so much as a millimetre.

"On whether trust is as difficult to come by in your kind as it is in the stories you write."

And then he was gone, form suddenly exploding into a shower of bats that flapped up, up, and around the corner, leaving the two masters alone in the alleyway as the war raged around them.​

Leonardo jumped as the vampiric scion vanished before them, shying away from the bats as they swooped off. He began to lower his hands away from his face, before one wrapped around to rub the back of his head with a rueful frown.

"Kinda feel like he was judging me there." he said absently "Fair thought, honestly; if he's gone, and my servant's still up there, this is pretty bad tactics on your end." he couldn't help but point out. He seemed to realize how that could've come off, and he quickly put his hands out and took a step back to show that he wasn't going to be making any sudden moves. "Not that you have to worry! There's a reason I suggested your guy do it instead of calling War back." he said as he glanced upwards at the din of combat above.

"Its clear you need to get out of here. But its just you thats going to get out of here if this works."


---------------------------------------------------------------------




There was the briefest lull in the fighting between War and Samus as Tarlotte seemingly fled, the Horseman's flesh notably charred as he leaned against his sword for a moment's respite, the bounty hunter's armor punctured with a bullet hole just underneath the elbow, leaking a faint blue liquid in drips. The hallway simply wasn't a hallway any more; the walls on both sides had been torn to shreds by the fight, open to the classrooms on either side and scattered with the remains of concrete, lockers, and desks like a shipwreck of the land.

"You fight well, warrior." War's voice rumbled as he ripped his massive blade back from the floor "But I will not yield. Not til I understand this world we have been brought into"

Samus Aran's response was the sound of her arm cannon finishing its recharge as she otherwise silently raised it again, only to look up at the last moment before a massive metal leg crashed through the cieling and speared her straight through the floor, War back stepping straight out the window to escape being an incidental target and crashing to the ground next to Leonardo and MJ.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


getting into the library would be child's play for Alucard; the doors were unlocked, and a multitude of other openings that would be much too small for humans were simple avenues for him. likewise, finding the lone master in the building wasn't difficult either.

She was the only one that smelled of blood to his senses.

A young woman in khakis and a polo shirt, she was crouched on the second floor, alternating between peering past a window towards the fight and glancing down at her MC in worry. "Come on. just one. Thats all we need. just one in the crossfire and I get out."

"Jeff's the only one that's out so far. Eric's... I don't know if he's just out or dead." came a voice from the MC

"Jesus. I know we wanted to save them but-"

"-You're right" was the preemptive answer "I'll use mine too. See you at the meetup"

 

[Daft Monk]

That was exactly why, when a manhole cover frisbee of death came whirring towards the head of someone in their group, the man actually did something. With reflexes befitting Shibuya's youngest game master—a promotion not given to just anyone—Minamimoto dug a hand into his pocket and whipped out an object that was none other than a small, round button that looked like something a teenager would have pinned to their flashy backpack. It was purple with white stars decorating it and fixed firmly in its center was a bold letter D. Hand clasped with the pin gravitated in the direction of Danny and the object. It would freeze in midair just inches away from his face, entrapped in a telekinetic force of some kind, before dropping to the ground with a metallic ringing.

"Took out the trash for ya, radian. You can thank me later," he said with a smug grin, lowering his arm and completely ignoring Daniel's request for him to speak English. At least, now the group could see that he was more than just fancy math words. He could fight and he was fancy math words. "That won't be the last one. Getting out of here at 299,792,458 mps is our best bet." ​

Nadia had just been about to intervene herself, ready to enlarge herself as much as she could in this space and catch the improvised weapon with her enhanced strength. Score a touchdown, as the American teens said, she was sure that was what that planned maneuver would basically be. But it was proven unnecessary, as the other servant stepped up to handle the potentially deadly situation. Quite efficiently, even! "Nice one!" Part of her mind wondered if that was more Jean Grey style, or rocking the Magneto power, or maybe ole Graviton ability...something to ask later!

"That's still not the right use of the word."

"...It most assuredly is not! Moving at that speed would certainly kill our masters most gruesomely!!!"​

“Pretty eels make dates and salad.”

“Hard disagree. They’re at least as tough as 2.8 gigapascals. They can handle it.”

He was definitely doing this on purpose now.​

A startled string of curses escaped Rockefeller's star quarterback at the sight of the unidentifiable flying object heading straight for his cranium, followed immediately by him stumbling backward and trying to duck down. But with another human in his arms, the effort wasn't an easy one, and he momentarily presumed his life would come to a halt right then and there. And all he could think of in such a moment... was that would be the shittiest, dumbest, most incredibly irritating way to go out. Was he really about to die like a loser, pelted in the head like some unsuspecting wannabe lounging on the beach getting slapped with a runaway frisbee?

Evidently, the answer was no.

Blinking rapidly, the teen righted himself with wild eyes, just in time to see Sho telekinetically casting aside the projectile. "Fuck," he mumbled, his heart beating about a hundred miles per hour in his chest. He tried to say something else, to voice a thank you or a request that they hurry the hell up with getting out of here, but he momentarily had no words. It was a fleeting stall of his brain, his systems slowly working internal repair to get his thoughts running again, but... But....-

Jesus. It was so fucking noisy. Truly, the boy was grateful for Sho's intervention... but the way the strange man and his servant were going back and forth was about to drive him insane. He was stressed out and overwhelmed and still hadn't recovered from that teleporting business, nor whatever situation had caused the blood painting the walls or Brighid's loss of consciousness, and there was way too much noise. He was typically good at ignoring such things, preferring to keep to the quiet sanctuary of his own little world, but he just couldn't deal with it in this specific case. If it were at least coherent conversation, maybe it would have been fine. But the pair were saying way too much with way too little he could actually understand. So, in the middle of Sho's spouting of nonsensical numbers, the boy wound up unable to take it anymore.

"Thanks," he interrupted, turning for the door. "Now can we get moving?" Surely his servant could nitpick and correct the crazy hobo's verbiage later. Preferably, once they were out of this insane otherworldly colosseum.

Quiet and disoriented as he'd been, Clancy managed a shaky nod. The fact that Sho had actually stepped in was a great relief to him, and he tried to take it as inspiration to step up to the plate, himself. Even if even standing or speaking was a major challenge right now. "...He's right," he offered, shakily. He finally removed his hands from the desk and stood on his own, but he found himself staggering as he fumbled to follow after Danny. Curse his jello-y legs. Curse them! Trying to set his own struggles aside, the teen glanced to his servant, desperate. "Is there any chance you can still teleport? Does that work with passengers?" If it did, that seemed like the best way to make a speedy escape. Otherwise, he worried his rebellious legs might be a detriment to the group. There was also flying, but Clancy wasn't sure his stomach would be able to make it if they took that route.​

 

[Gus Gungus]

getting into the library would be child's play for Alucard; the doors were unlocked, and a multitude of other openings that would be much too small for humans were simple avenues for him. likewise, finding the lone master in the building wasn't difficult either.

She was the only one that smelled of blood to his senses.

A young woman in khakis and a polo shirt, she was crouched on the second floor, alternating between peering past a window towards the fight and glancing down at her MC in worry. "Come on. just one. Thats all we need. just one in the crossfire and I get out."

"Jeff's the only one that's out so far. Eric's... I don't know if he's just out or dead." came a voice from the MC

"Jesus. I know we wanted to save them but-"

"-You're right" was the preemptive answer "I'll use mine too. See you at the meetup"​

At heart, cold and unbeating though his may have been, Alucard had no love for violence.

He supposed he took after his mother in that regard, though he long harboured his suspicions that years of solitude followed by slow, gentle rehabilitation at her hands had long since bred any and all sincere desire to do harm out of his father's temperament, at least to a far greater degree than he let on. She was one who fought with every ounce of her being to preserve life, who truly cherished it, and when Vlad Dracula Tepes fell for her not even the raw predisposition towards blood and carnage that had anointed him lord of the dark could stand in the way of such pure, radiant light. It stood no more a chance than one of their kind did basking in the morning sun.

That, more than anything, was what had made his father's final end so painful; waging his senseless, bloody war on the mankind who dared take her away from him, sitting lonely and decrepit in his tower while he went through the motions of revenge with no true zeal. Not what one might've expected from a Dracula seeking retribution, the unsettling revelation that the Impaler he once was had still been there, all along, simply waiting for a slight from humanity egregious enough to bring him back to the fore.

The haunting knowledge that he truly wasn't. That the monster was gone, as gone as Lisa herself was, and all that remained was a broken, empty husk of the man who turned the entire world against him just to see her again.

Their shared disinterest in the violence much of their kind revelled in had made those with the name Tepes true aberrants among vampires, a distinction even his father's own generals perceived in the end as they began to turn against him. Alucard's own aversion went much further. He actively disliked violence, felt nothing but revulsion at the thought of it, could never quite understand why human and vampire alike were given the wits they were only to surrender them to their most barbaric of impulses time and again. Like his father in the end, Adrian Tepes bore no love for violence.

Yet like his father, and decidedly unlike his mother, he believed there were circumstances and events that simply called for it.

That didn't mean he couldn't be proportionate, couldn't exercise better judgment where his father wouldn't bother. A veiled threat, rather than a direct one, for the one schoolchild who seemed to be taking to this entire tedious charade a bit more readily than the others, and seemed oddly keen on separating him from the one allegedly tying him to all of this.



The small, stinging fangs of a colony of bats, rather than the long and fatal incisors of a vampire, for the human with enough cruelty in their heart to opt for violence as their first choice.

They beset her in an instant, screeching, flapping, swarming, her auditory, visual and tactile senses all bombarded with the sudden storm of creatures to the point that she ideally wouldn't even notice when one plucked the MC from her hand. The moment it did their interlinked consciousness shifted directions, twisting through the air away from her until they all formed one shadowy mass, which itself stretched, curled, and gave itself form until in scarcely the blink of an eye the tall, pale, and detached figure of Alucard himself towered over her, only a few feet to separate them.

"A meeting."

He echoed, grip on the MC taut enough in his palm that he could crack it if he applied so much as a fraction more pressure, one eyebrow curling upwards as his cold amber eyes swivelled from it to her. Then he smiled, a coy, aloof smile that revealed more than enough fang to render his private thoughts on violence completely and utterly up in the air.



"Shall we go together, or shall I rip your entrails out through your jugular and use them to manoeuvre you like a fucking meat puppet on strings?"

He loathed violence, that was true. But he was, ultimately, his father's son.

And those who committed violence for callous, frivolous reasons? He cared for them even less.​

 

[MyrtenRose]

“Hard disagree. They’re at least as tough as 2.8 gigapascals. They can handle it.”

He was definitely doing this on purpose now.

​

View attachment 994071​

"I DON'T KNOW THAT'S WHAT I WAS TRYING TO UNDERSTAND!!!"​

"Thanks," he interrupted, turning for the door. "Now can we get moving?" Surely his servant could nitpick and correct the crazy hobo's verbiage later. Preferably, once they were out of this insane otherworldly colosseum.

Quiet and disoriented as he'd been, Clancy managed a shaky nod. The fact that Sho had actually stepped in was a great relief to him, and he tried to take it as inspiration to step up to the plate, himself. Even if even standing or speaking was a major challenge right now. "...He's right," he offered, shakily. He finally removed his hands from the desk and stood on his own, but he found himself staggering as he fumbled to follow after Danny. Curse his jello-y legs. Curse them! Trying to set his own struggles aside, the teen glanced to his servant, desperate. "Is there any chance you can still teleport? Does that work with passengers?" If it did, that seemed like the best way to make a speedy escape. Otherwise, he worried his rebellious legs might be a detriment to the group. There was also flying, but Clancy wasn't sure his stomach would be able to make it if they took that route.

"...Yes that was the plan all along, this guy simply--oh forget it." Nadia shook her head. "Out of here, we go." ​

 

[MyrtenRose]

The exchange and accompanying query were taken in with the same ever-vigilant eyes by their stoic protector, and when the latter came he let them flicker shut; brow knitting in thought and another soft, rueful sigh given as his mind once more scrolled back through the events of his 'life'. Such as it was.

...and nobody else needs to die?

"That depends."

Only upon further prompting—if any came—did he open them again, levelling the pair with a stare that somehow managed to be somber, hard, and yet overwhelmingly sad all at once, despite the fact that his features shifted barely so much as a millimetre.

"On whether trust is as difficult to come by in your kind as it is in the stories you write."

And then he was gone, form suddenly exploding into a shower of bats that flapped up, up, and around the corner, leaving the two masters alone in the alleyway as the war raged around them.

"That...hits deep--"​

Leonardo jumped as the vampiric scion vanished before them, shying away from the bats as they swooped off. He began to lower his hands away from his face, before one wrapped around to rub the back of his head with a rueful frown.

"Kinda feel like he was judging me there." he said absently "Fair thought, honestly; if he's gone, and my servant's still up there, this is pretty bad tactics on your end." he couldn't help but point out. He seemed to realize how that could've come off, and he quickly put his hands out and took a step back to show that he wasn't going to be making any sudden moves. "Not that you have to worry! There's a reason I suggested your guy do it instead of calling War back." he said as he glanced upwards at the din of combat above.

"Its clear you need to get out of here. But its just you thats going to get out of here if this works."

They just stared over with narrowed eyes, every centimeter of MJ's expression clearly saying "are you serious right now" before they more or less exploded in frustration. "Look, dude! I came in today figuring the worst thing that could happen was some pop quiz out of nowhere, but no, some priest comes in, explains how we got conscripted into some bullshit war, that I was now paired with cool vampire elf guy from a show I haven't watched yet because the universe was just like yeah he's an alive person now, I decided, and so we're expected to fight against like a thousand other New Yorkers and whatever crazy powerful character they got at their sides, and people straight up died in front of my eyes, and I've spent the last few minutes struggling to not be sick, to keep it together because I'm embarrassing myself in the worst first impression to cool vampire elf guy, and this is really happening all around us with whatever phantom NYC this is currently going up in flames, and the me from an hour ago was prepared for absolutely none of what I just said, SO EXCUSE ME IF I'M NOT CALLING STRATEGIC, TACTICAL MOVES LIKE I'M THE SECOND COMING OF MOTHERFUCKING GENERAL GEORGE S. PATTON!!!"

MJ fell silent after that other than heavy breathing, hands running across their face as they tried to calm down after all that. It was a far quieter MJ that eventually continued with: "I didn't ask for this. For a war, or to be responsible for someone else's life, or..." They trailed off and sighed. "I guess...you'd either have to find somebody else's device to break...or...have your servant go and--"​

Samus Aran's response was the sound of her arm cannon finishing its recharge as she otherwise silently raised it again, only to look up at the last moment before a massive metal leg crashed through the cieling and speared her straight through the floor, War back stepping straight out the window to escape being an incidental target and crashing to the ground next to Leonardo and MJ.

"--SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT!"

Whatever else they had been just about to say was lost in the shrill screech that followed that crash landing, their arms instantly moving to cover their head.

​

 

[Indolent]

Grievous was a simple servant, all things considered. Outside of a noble phantasm his master was loathe to use this early into the war, there was nothing more to him than his prosthetic, barely organic form, martial skill, and the lightsabers layered across his belt and under his cloak. They were both beasts that beset upon the noblest order of their respective tales, one with a trail of broken heroes left behind him and the other a kill list of jedi knights that shrunk ever smaller as the clone wars raged.



Both their reputations had been earned in blood

The manhole cover was caught in a slam of a step that crunched it into the concrete and snow, the general not even breaking stride in the motion as his lung continued forward and their clash began, and Garou found an immediate, terrible problem with his his initial tactic. The lightsaber was, in its own story, the most iconic and dangerous weapon one could carry. almost nothing could stand against it, and certainly no flesh. The grail system, in depriving Grievous of other, more esoteric advantages, gave him a very simple but potent truth to his blades to match said tale;

There was almost nothing that they couldn't slice through, enemy servants included.

one strike gouged clean down garou's knuckles in an attempted deflect, removing half of the hero hunter's hand before one of his own counter blows caught grievious in the chest, metal crunching underneath from the force of the strike. Grievous snarled and backstepped and let his entire up torso pivot as he swirled the blades in a erratic, inhuman arc to create space-

the battered manhole cover, dented and cracked from turning into a tool for servants to bludgeon each other with, suddenly left Grievous' clawed grip midrotation to go hurling like a misshapen cannonball directly for Danny's head, the angle of the fight having shifted that the general had barely got a glance into the classroom mid exchange.

Braggadocio was the word that encapsulated the outward attitude of the Hero Hunter, the sheer confidence that veered well within the realm of the arrogant was the selfsame one that led Garou by the nose into absurd odds. Hailing from a setting where martial arts at its pinnacle was consistently demonstrated to waylay almost any other medium, it was a corollary inherent to his world that there was nothing he couldn't overcome. It was this expectation he borne with him from the page to reality that was bound to lead him astray as an inevitability and it was a blessing in disguise it arrived sooner than later.

Being able to avert all manner of attacks using the Water Stream Rock smashing Fist was something that came to him as something more than instinct, a sublimated extension of himself, letting him perform feats appropriately classified as super human. Repelling a hailstorm of bullets or altering the path of attacks, including energy, was something he took for granted.

For granted because the Hero Hunter expected to be able to to deflect the energy blades as to develop an opening for his strike, banking on his innate durability and the barest of contact with them.

One might've expected the teen to express shock at the outcome. Instead the Hero Hunter seamlessly acclimated to his new condition, the process occurring within the same span of time between incurring the injury and the flinging of the manhole cover. The sheen of sweat mixed with the dirt and melted snow that almost looked as if it evaporated from his body temperature lent itself to the crazed demeanor Garou took on, adjusting his stance in lieu of his ruined hand.



"Ye, ya'll only need the one after all."

Garou wasn't concerned whatsoever with the fact Danny almost lost his head in a literal fashion, being that he was lost within the throes of combat. What followed was a similar approach from before, except far more violent and that much faster, a radiating crushing of the earth that it erupted radially, threatening to overtake Grievous's position. The intent was to force him on the move with the cover of the blizzard and debris in the air.

A fusillade of the newly rendered debris would be committed, the cyborg being the target in a dizzying flurry from within cover while the glare and humming of his lightsabers was an easy giveaway of Grevious's position. The Berserker servant near adopted the overwhelming bounding of Watchdog Man, the intensity of his maneuver growing as he sought to batter the general towards an opening for the one strike he decided would finish him.

Another well place hit to the damaged chest, to crumple the tin-can freak.

 

[Daft Monk]

Thump thump thump.

Just knowing her medication had flung from her grasp, landing somewhere unknown that was out of her reach seemed to make Maisie's heart issues worse. The girl clutched at her chest with both hands, making no effort to hang onto Tarlotte anymore. "I-I'm going to die," she wheezed, blue eyes widening and glossing over with moisture. There was a chance she was overreacting, but in this situation she wasn't exactly sure. It was hard to gauge just how sturdy her body was in this kind of unpredictable situation. She was in the middle of a war, wracked with anxiety, and being flopped around all over the place. "I-I dropped my meds when we jumped. If we could just go back down--"

Cut off by Tarlotte's leap through the ceiling, Maisie tucked her chin against her chest, moving her arms protectively around her head. She opened one cerulean eye and peeked around, releasing a cry of panic. They were on the roof of the building now. Her lost medication pouch could've been anywhere at this point... Maisie hated to say it, but she was just as afraid of her medical condition as she was the enemy attacking them. She was definitely going to die, killed by either one or the other. When it came to their attacker, she was as helpless as a newborn infant. So the ravenette instead focused on the one battle she could at least feebly attempt to fight. Squeezing her eyes shut, Maisie attempted to focus solely on breathing, trying to block out her surroundings.​

There was the briefest lull in the fighting between War and Samus as Tarlotte seemingly fled, the Horseman's flesh notably charred as he leaned against his sword for a moment's respite, the bounty hunter's armor punctured with a bullet hole just underneath the elbow, leaking a faint blue liquid in drips. The hallway simply wasn't a hallway any more; the walls on both sides had been torn to shreds by the fight, open to the classrooms on either side and scattered with the remains of concrete, lockers, and desks like a shipwreck of the land.

"You fight well, warrior." War's voice rumbled as he ripped his massive blade back from the floor "But I will not yield. Not til I understand this world we have been brought into"

Samus Aran's response was the sound of her arm cannon finishing its recharge as she otherwise silently raised it again, only to look up at the last moment before a massive metal leg crashed through the cieling and speared her straight through the floor, War back stepping straight out the window to escape being an incidental target and crashing to the ground next to Leonardo and MJ.

Fear of death was a natural thing. To be thrust into a situation such as this, with no idea whether you would come out alive or dead... any person with so much as an ounce of sanity remaining would be scared out of their mind. The uncertainty of it all was terrifying on its own, and it was hard to imagine how such a thing would feel with the unfortunate Maisie's additional concerns. Having other individuals trying to kill you was one thing. Having your own body trying to finish you off was something else entirely, a phenomenon that added salt to the wound in bounds. To find yourself in a war against tangible opponents as well as one you couldn't even see was simply unthinkable.

Consequently, Tarlotte didn't care. As her sensitive ears picked up on her master's increasingly sporadic heartbeats, and her golden eyes caught sight of the tears brimming the other girl's blue ones, she didn't feel the slightest sliver of sympathy. No, even when Maisie's trembling, terrified voice filled her ears, the Absolute Angel felt a suffocating wave of nothing. That was how she had to be. How she was designed to be. So of course the ravenette's world shattering had no bearing on her. It didn't pull at her heartstrings, it didn't compel her to listen, and it certainly didn't inspire a painful and unfamiliar sensation of sympathetic pity that left an uncomfortable feeling in her own chest.

...

Damn it.

Why did she feel this way? She didn't know this girl. She didn't know anything! She didn't know why she was here, or what was wrong with her alleged master, or why the idea of the girl's potential death felt so excruciatingly painful. Discounting Sojiro, she'd never seen any humans as worth defending. She wasn't this kid's babysitter, and she didn't owe her any favors, so... so why did that look in her eyes reignite the same urge to protect that she'd felt when--

Whatever connection her brain had begun to draw was cut short at breakneck speeds, broken apart like the rooftop beneath her feet. Unfortunately, even if she'd wanted to listen to Maisie's pleas, it was too late for that for the moment. The momentary pang of anguish was something she was only allowed to feel for just that; a moment. The legs of Batraz expectedly collided with the intergalactic bounty hunter, and gravity coupled with Tarlotte's brute force saw the three of them crashing all the way down through the floor.

"Shut up."

Despite the harsh words, she held her master closer than before, doing all she could to shield her despite the disgust she felt brewing in her gut for doing so. Her voice was quiet and strained, mellowed by her war against the strange mixture of feelings eating away at whatever semblance of a heart her creator may have deigned to provide her, but it was there nevertheless. "I'm not letting mew die." She didn't know if she hoped for Maisie to hear her or preferred it be lost in the din of chaos, but the words had passed her lips before she could stop them, and there was no taking it back. And with that oath on the air, as soon as their descent came to an end- whether it be on the second floor or the first- Tarlotte used Samus like a springboard. The legs of Batraz vanished swiftly, she somersaulting through the air before those same legs reformed and she reared back to punt the woman like a vengeful soccer mom from hell.​

 

[Indolent]

Leonhart raised an eyebrow at the tirade, but her expression didn't drift from her own hard edged glare past that, and the first words that came out were laced with a quiet, hardened malice as she pressed a little harder so that Patience didn't have the breath to talk back as she found her feet leaving the floor.

"Bold statements. Good. Some fight will do you well here. But no one knows how they handle the kind of pain you're describing til they feel it, and no one is immutable, on anything. Don't make me test you on that."

She stepped back, letting Patience fall back down to the floor as she crossed her arms.

"Your other friend figured out how to put his servant in storage; do the same with me. I can access my other clothes in there, and you can focus on getting to this meeting place."

"Urrk" It was less the sound of a person capitulating and more a vociferous outcry as she was lifted by Leonhart, her servant's own strength and her own weight working against her. Matching Sakurei's own glare was a plateau that Patience could only dare dream of scaling let alone reaching. Yet it wasn't enough to quell her from even trying, barely misty eyes making contact in turn as Leon delivered her threat.

Dropping onto her haunches elicited a hiss strained through the teeth, with a "fuck!" on its heel under her breath. A scowl was what Patience managed primarily, her expression fluctuating to the lingering disbelief that Leon certainly noted to be her master still digesting her own circumstance. Despite that, though, Leon would also note that Patience once again locked eyes with her own, her expression strangely placid as her eyes almost seemed to communicate her sheer displeasure of it all on their own.

"Yeah, I'm half-full of crap there, no idea how much I could tolerate. Not that it matters. There's no fuckin' reason for you to test me. Ever. It's the other way around."

Motion articulated inside the pocket containing her MC, with Leon finding her request met without delay as she disappeared in a shimmer into storage.

Patience remained seated for a minute longer, fuming over the sheer bullshit that just transpired and working to dial her own fight or flight response down to normalcy. The teen always had a knack for calming her anxiety in the moment, electing to focus on something and Leon, whether or not she was aware of it, armed her with something of a focal point that allowed her to distract herself from the death scenario she was a part of.

A cursory sniffle as she brushed away her nose, the elder Munroe leveraged herself back to standing before leering to the side, a smoldering glare into the mirror with her own reflection that looked back. A singular word was calmly uttered, the tone that pervaded it nominated clearly the individual in her mind.

"Bitch."

Then she was gone, a purposeful stride out of the bathroom and to the tram, making her way to the subway station at the end of the tracks and up to the meeting place mentioned by her servant.