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Fate/No Order IC


Junior Member
"Everyone, go out the back way and head towards your rooms. The mages and out servants will take care of this incursion." John commanded and stood by the door between the kitchen staff and the action. Once they were all out of the kitchen, his thoughts turned towards why his servant hadn't answered him. The silence between the two was unnerving and worried John to no end. What was his servant doing? Did whatever bring Luke here, bring something else that could have captured or defeated his servant? No, his servant wouldn't be defeated without him knowing. Maybe she was kidnapped or went rogue.

His train of thought was interrupted when the traitorous son of King Arthur entered the room. "Everyone went out the back and to their rooms. Let's just hope there are not more of them." John answered and walked up and shook the wayward knight's hand. "It's nice to meet you, Shielder. You truly do look like your Father... You didn't see your other Father out there wearing blue with two Excaliburs did you?" He asked and stood back abit, the worry he had only showed for a moment or two.

"Oh... I'm John, Master of Assassin." He added.



Bad Civilization!
Toko took another drink from her little bottle and began a tale of how a man that was called a demon, burnt down the monk’s home in the mountains. It sounded a horrific thing to do for simple access to mountains and because they opposed him; especially if it involved innocents that were also killed in the process. The tale was obviously emotional for the samurai and likely was only being told because of the alcohol flowing through her friend’s body. The man responsible was named Oda Nobunaga who shared Toko’s goals for uniting her land and was once her closest friend.

As the Avenger finished her dark tale she grew quiet, and the Servant of the bow reflected on the revealed truth of her friend’s desire for revenge. Rebecca understood the burning fire of revenge; there was a time when she truly had hated her own people, and Father… only the teachings of Christ had soothed those painful flames in her heart. But her pain seemed minor, if not childish, compared to Toko’s… even her after-life as a spirit had been infected by her pain and lost. So this was why Toko was an Avenger...

After a moment of silence Toko spoke again, warning her to be cautious around the brother of Nobunaga; the new Servant. Archer looked at the direction of the Avenger’s pointing finger. The male Servant certainly didn’t seem evil or cruel. He was rather short and thin for a male; more feminine than masculine. As she watched him converse with Berserker she even thought he seemed nice and polite. Despite the man’s smartly dressed appearance, cute demeanor, and nervousness he seemed to exude while conversing with Berserker; she decided she would trust her friend and be careful around him. However, It wasn’t in her nature to completely ignore another person without great cause… she hoped Toko wouldn’t be too upset whenever herself and the male Servant inevitably conversed.

Toko dropped her pointing finger and apologized; the rage and urgency from before fading from the woman’s voice now. “It’s ok Toko. I understand… it’s always good to talk with friends about our fears, angers, and pains. You can always talk with me about anything... ok?” A question was on the edge of the native girl’s lips… what had Oda Nobunaga taken from Toko that had caused such anguish that it had followed the samurai into death?

Rebecca wanted to know… but she feared causing her friend further anguish. Instead she asked a lighter question, hoping her friend would understand the “mood” hadn’t been “murdered.” With a much lighter tone of voice and playful enthusiasm she asked “Toko what does “Chan” mean? It sounds like such a cute word!” There was so much she didn’t know about her friend’s culture; she would need to finish her three library books quickly so she could checkout new ones about Japanese culture when she was able to.



Dragon's Hoard
"Huh? Didn't I already say? Just consider it an apology for throwing you onto the floor earlier. We're even." Lucas insisted, brushing off Aine's offer of repayment. He gave her a smirk as he pulled her up to her feet and slipped his hands into his pockets. If he noticed anything about her current state of cleanliness, he didn't say anything on the subject.

It came as a bit of a surprise to Lucas to find someone like Aine here at Chaldea. Most maguses he'd known were arrogant and haughty, either eager to prove their superiority to others, or simply so self-assured in their strength that they payed little attention to anyone else. All because of their lineage. Well, at least that was the prevailing sort of personality back when Lucas was still a student at the Clock Tower. He'd always struggled against the view of himself being lesser or someone forgettable, ironically turning himself into the very thing he was fighting against, just a little bit anyways. Aine's personality was... refreshing. She seemed kind, if overly polite, and perhaps a bit on the awkward side, but the fact that she had treated him as another person and hadn't simply ignored him won her a few points in his book. Perhaps soon enough he could say that he got along with more people than his Servant, who sort of had to cooperate with him. Not that he didn't appreciate Archer, but being a Master and Servant pair meant that cooperation was almost assured between them. Archer was a kind soul, and would likely tolerate him even if he was someone much worse.

"How many Masters...?" Lucas parroted Aine's question back at her, following her gaze towards Anastasia and Dr. Roman for a moment before looking back at her. "Ah... I don't know for sure how many are in Chaldea, but the ones I personally know, I can count on one hand. John, Skorl, and uh..." He paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate before shaking his head. "Nevermind that last one. We're all the ones who just returned." He began moving back towards the cafeteria area as he spoke, beckoning for Aine to follow him. Entering just in time to watch Lancelot expire, he glanced towards Saber for a moment before quickly turning his attention elsewhere, either unable or simply unwilling to watch her face for very long. Archer and Avenger were sitting off and chatting together, though their topic seemed a bit serious if Avenger's face was anything to go by... He could check up on Archer later then. Skorl and John, along with Berserker and Shielder were also accounted for, though he didn't recognize who she was speaking to.

"And here I'd hoped we'd have had a bit more time..." Lucas said aloud to himself as he surveyed the damage.

@BlightGiver @SunRaHunter @CatJones @Midoria @AJustKnight


Upsetti Spaghetti
Mordred let out a quick sigh of relief after John explained the kitchen staff had already escaped. Fighting would have been a hassle if they had been there still. John had his own problems however, his Servant was apparently missing. The description was surprising until he admired to be the Master of Assassin. The Arthur who killed anyone who looked similar to her. It was an apt description, but she couldn't recall seeing anyone else who looked like father. An unfamiliar warmth came to her face when he had compared her to Father.
“Sorry. I can't say I've seen another version of Father running around.” There was a brief pause as she looked at the floor before looking back at him. “Could she have been left behind in the singularity?”
It was a ghastly idea, to be stuck in a singularity as it fell apart. Surely anything trapped inside as it collapsed would be destroyed, but would they still be within a realm that the Throne of Heroes could reclaim them as they were destroyed. The realization of what she had suggested made a pit form in her stomach.
“I'm sure it's nothing like that. Maybe she took more damage then you thought and returned to the throne? Maybe you can make a new contract with one of the other Servants?” Her heart sank at the idea of her theory being right and now she was in damage control mode, trying to make up for it.



Tap A to not die as fast.
Poca had a lot in common with her Master. The same pause and unsolicited question hung from their mouth, wanting to be sent into the world, held back by the speaker. There was no question that Poca could ask that would offend her, there was no point in having barriers with anyone now that most of it was in the open. She had nothing to lose in being open about the loss that she had suffered at the hands of her friend. There was nothing Poca or Lucas could take from her by knowing these things about her. There was no risk.

“'What did you lose'. That's what you want to ask right? You deserve to know, if you're curious, plus I have nothing to hide from a friend like you.” Toko took a short breath before explaining, a faint smile passing on to her lips as she spoke, like a fond memory was passing through her minds eye; “He took my wife and first born son. I married my son off to his daughter but she lied and told her Father that my son and wife were going to betray him to an enemy. In the end, I had two options; my son and wife, or my entire clan. I made a bad choice. I should have died in the fires of war against the Oda, with my honor, my son, and my wife. Instead I killed them. My pride killed them.” She took another long drink from her sake.

“But lets not focus on that now! Its a time for celebration, not dour old shoguns!” She finished off her drink before standing up and smashing the bottle on the ground. “Lets party like its my first day as shogun!”

Toko pulled the second bottle of sake from her sleeve and handed it to Poca, grinning like a fool as she did. “I brought this bottle for the rest of you to try some, so go ahead and drink. Poca-chan. Oh, yeah! Chan means cute when you put it at the end of someones name. So you're Poca-chan! Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?” Toko was now lively again, the liquor having taken full effect on her as she ran ramshod over any protests or arguments from her friend, trying to brighten up the dark mood she had created. She knew that eventually Poca would try to talk to her about this again, that it would come up at some other point, but for this moment, she wanted her friend to be happy and enjoy the evening.


Ana kept up her healing with Dr. Roman, watching the flow of blood slowly taper off and cease after a few minutes of concentration. "Funny, right? Bet you never expected to be this close to the fight." she said, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, ahm, Lucas, was it? Can you help me until Madam Da Vinci returns? Possibly you and I can close this wound." She asked, hoping he would listen. "I don't mean to interject on you helping her if you are, I just-, the help would be appreciated." She told him, being forced to pause her healing for a moment to not overload herself.
(agh its short but here)


Professional Brick Thrower
Raikou smiled as Oda introduced himself. 'Oh, I'm quite alright; not a scratch on me. I appreciate the worry, child." She affectionately stated, crossing her arms under her chest. "And it's nice to meet another Servant from the homeland. My name is Minamoto no Yorimitsu; though, everyone calls me Raikou, per my request." She had grown rather interested with all the Servants of varying clans here in Chaldea, but Skorl had advised her against it. 'Clans can sometimes be a touchy subject for some.' His exact past words had said. 'You don't want to bring up old wounds or start anything, so just don't talk about that unless they do first.' Sound advice, for sure. And Raikou loved whenever her master showed consideration for her wellbeing. It gave her a sense that she was doing a good job with his upbringing.

It was her master who also corrected Oda at the pronunciation of the deceased Berserker's name. "Lancelot. A knight of the Round Table; he's got bad blood with every version of Saber. I'm glad he was taken down with relatively little damage; mindless Berserkers tend to go too far." Skorl explained, kicking a piece of debris away. "Anyway, it's evident he was naught but a pawn for somebody else; so our worries probably shouldn't be about him." Raikou bent down and wrapped her arms around Skorl, "Master, please. Do not stress yourself with any more of that talk for today. It's not healthy for you." Blushing, Skorl couldn't help but let her continue, as he became more intrigued at Oda's weapons. "It's not everyday I get to ask this, but I'm interested in your choice of weaponry. How's it work?"


"No, no, no no!" Da Vinci shouted, running back to the cafeteria, with med kit and medical staff in tow. "Ana! Thank you for this; I had to make something of a detour." She called, returning to the wounded Roman. "The few medical staff we have can take it from here, great job." Roman, gaining more breathe, asked Da Vinci to elaborate about her frantic talk whilst returning. "Uh, well...." The Caster hesitated, gesturing the medical team to take Roman to the med bay. "Wait!" He shouted, now far done the hall. "Ugh, I can't tell him that the grail we got from London is gone." Da Vinci complained aloud, not remembering that Ana, and now Lucas, were in earshot.

@LoneSniper87 @Dragonruby
Rider gave a slight jump at the Berserkers name. He had figured there would be famous spirits here, but to have one of the most famous demon hunters of the Ichijo period removed what little composure he had manage to hold on to so far. Every child growing up knew his, or her apparently, legends. The laying of the ogres for the Emperor, including Ibaraki-doji. The slaying of the great earth spider, Tscuhi-Gomo. The four Guardian Kings that served her. And she had been lord of Settsu Province. In every way, she was his superior; as a warrior, as a leader, as a legend. He had not given her the proper bow and had introduced himself casually rather then as a fief-lord for his brother.

His eyes widened as panic set in, realizing the slight he had just given to the older woman. He threw himself forward, violently bending at the waist so his upper body was parallel with the floor. He knew he had been raised better then this, to show respect to those who were above him in rank and treat them with the reverence they deserve. He had always been better at formal proceedings then most of his brothers, they had inherited some of their fathers impish nature.

“I apologize for greeting you so casually, Raikou-ue." He waited for a long moment before righting himself, his face still flush with embarrassment. To meet a member of the Minomoto and act like a commoner meeting an old friend, he knew he looked like an idiot who had never met anyone of reasonable stature. Though, he might be judging the situation wrongly, Raikou seemed rather serene given the situation and his poor greeting. He struck the idea of him being over-bearing from his mind, he had a duty to act appropriately. To his surprise, however, Raikou was very affectionate with her Master. They must have that kind of relationship to be so comfortable with being in each others space. Shielder had explained to him that people of the current age had far less concern showing physical affection. Which means that Raikou had already quickly acclimated to the current cultures of the time.

Despite the display they were putting off, Raikou's master was fixated more on his mode of fighting aside from everything else. His pistols? Surely he must have seen a matchlock pistol before. The pinnacle of military weaponry, the matchlock was a perfect balance of precision and power, all in a neat wood and steel package. Nothing could have surpassed the matchlock weapons. He pulled his current pistol from it's holster, quickly removing the flint from the cock as he did so.

“Well, it's a matchlock pistol. Normally, you put in a black powder charge and a shot into the barrel and then a piece of flint or burning rope in this cocking arm up here,” He showed off the pistol, his thumb pulling the cocking lever back to show where the flint would normally go, and leaving it in the cocked position.

“Then you pull the trigger and it ignites the black powder.” He aimed at the floor and squeezed the trigger, the cocking arm flipping down with a quiet clink as it hit against the feed. “Normally they use a burning rope, but mine uses a piece of flint. Ir was a little ahead of its time.”

Since it still didn't have a fuse on it, he flipped it around in his hand, trying to offer the handle to the Master to inspect it, but instead catching his finger in between the back of the trigger and it's guard, pinching himself. After a short wince, he pulled his finger free and offered it with less flair.


Idiot. Dumb-ass. Moron. Aine smiled lightly as Lucas brushed off her gratitude, only able to blame herself for not being more transparent in what she had been trying to imply. Her foggy mind making it that much more difficult to be more on-putting. She knew she was attractive, her looks had been one of her best non-violent tools to getting what she had needed to survive until she was scooped up by Cheldea, but going through with the actions was a tremendously difficult task. Flirting and being open were as alien to her as the depths of space or the ocean were to everyone else.

Being the meek and polite girl was grating against herself, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything that would compromise that facade. She was stirred into speaking as he answered her question about the number of Masters, thankfully answering the question in the way she had meant to ask. His pause and subsequent answer told a simple story. One of the Masters hadn't made it back from their mission. She wouldn't feel any remorse for a person she didn't know, but she felt a kindred to this unknown person. She would surely follow such a fate. KIA.

She followed him as he made his way into the cafeteria proper. She had found herself grabbing plate of food from this room countess times, but it seems liked every time she had come to eat, the hall was empty save the staff. Now that there was a activity, it felt off, unfamiliar. Just as Lucas surveyed the inhabitants of the room, she followed suit. Rider was there, seemingly not having noticed her arrival. He was talking to a Master Servant pair that were locked in an embrace. Even from the current angle Aine could make out the smaller Master and overtly feminine physique of the female Servant. Raw sex-appeal was one of way of making yourself noticeable to men. She was doing something similar with her own tight shirt and shorts, showing off her delicate legs.

Annoyingly, Rider was getting along with them just fine, being personable and friendly. It was a curious sight to see Servants interact, like two books speaking. She imagined they only had the ability to use things of their own legends to really converse of. Their ideals and opinions set in the stone of who they once were, inflexible. Rider could be doing more important things though. She briefly considered sending him a message to go clean her room but it would be hard to explain why he suddenly up and left. Next to cross her vision was Archer and an unknown Servant. The newcomer was wearing flowing clothes of foreign make, a bottle of some sort in her hands. Her eyes were the same striking color as Riders, but her face had a far more imposing hew to it, even past the blush.

Lastly was a black knight of sorts. A blond woman as tall as Aine was, with a stern face and eyes of dull gold. Rider and Archer gave her the brief fear of the danger they could possess. This woman, thin in frame as she was, was a looming presence of danger. She exuded an aura of evil intent. Aine felt a new wave of sweat creep across her brow, hands and back. Her hands trembled slightly against her hips, pressing against her body to hide the effect the woman was having on her. She turned away from Saber, keeping her focus on Lucas' back, using it as a fixation point to clear her mind. Her rock didn't last long as Lucas spoke again, muttering to himself about not having a lot of time for something.

“Hmm? How do you mean? These attacks aren't a common occurrence, right?” She stood abreast of him, looking up at him with a curious hunger in her eyes at his meaning. If he was getting jittery about the idea that things were about to go sour, he might be the person she was looking for; calling out for comfort only another person could give.

@CatJones @Dragonruby
Ana took a few steps back, hands raised as she looked at Da Vinci with mild concern, slowly lowering her hands. She turned back to the other Masters, looking at them, then to Shielder. "Well that was fun!" She called out to her, mildly sarcastic and partially serious. It was a little rush, nothing major, with no real fighting, but it felt good all the same. She reached Aine and Lucas, glossing over then. "You two are alright? I hope so." She had a genuine concern to her, head slightly tilted as she watched them. "Attacks? I... No, I believe this is our first one... Ever." She told her, walking a bit closer. "I-" she pauses, "Sorry, am I intruding?"


Junior Member
"She was in the room when we returned from the mission." John answered, but it seemed Mordred had already figured out. Though her next words was a possibility that sank his heart. If Assassin was hurt worse than they thought and did return to the throne then John wasnt able to say good-bye to her. "I am going to refuse to believe that Assassin would leave me without telling me." John said with a bit of hope in his voice. "For the two that I know who do not have contracts with a Master yet. One has already denied my request and the other I have promised not to make a contract with her."

John turned towards the back exit of the kitchen, "I'm going to go look for Assassin. She does have presence concealment and maybe lurking around here." John left Mordred in the kitchen alone to search through the halls. Where could she be and how would John's role change in this little group if he did not have a servant?



Bad Civilization!
Archer flinched when Avenger saw through her attempt at controlling her own curious nature. Socially it was a huge blunder; wars between resentful tribes or starving colonists had been sparked over less social ineptitude than this. Archer further broke her own rules on social graces as she listened to her friend’s admittance. Her red eyes widening in honest horror as Toko explained that she had killed her own son and wife to protect her clan from what was once her closest friend. She felt her eyes start to water at the very thought and was forced to look away from Toko in guilt.

Rebecca hated people that sacrificed others for a “greater good.” Toko’s action were like her Fathers… if however, for the opposite purpose. Her Father had sacrificed her so that he could go to war, not to avoid it. Although in the end he had changed his mind… atleast a little. Had he regretted and suffered over giving her up, as Toko did now for her own loved ones?

The samurai leader suddenly changed tones into celebratory action and words. Smashing her little bottle and declaring “partying like her first day as a Tribal Leader.” The woman pulled another little bottle out and gave it to the slightly despondent tribal girl. Even Toko’s explanation on the meaning of chan didn’t heal the girl’s spirits. She looked up at Toko’s smiling face, trying so hard to not fall back into darkness.

The native girl looked at the little cup of alcohol in her hands, entwinned her fingers around the container into prayer and closed her eyes. Sadness struck the young girl’s heart again at a thought… she had lost her husband and child too… hadn’t she? Or at the very least they had lost her when she died. Now that she was a spirit… it felt like she had failed them…

“Blessed are those who mourn… for they will be comforted.”

Opening her eyes Rebecca placed the bottle on her lips and took a deep gulp of the strange liquor. It burnt, and left a lingering stinging in her throat, but she was able to continue her prayers.

“Blessed are the loves that have gone away… and left us with memories of their smiles.”

Another gulp, the sake was stronger than what she was used to, but strangely it was one of the smoothest drinks she had ever had. A refinedness that couldn’t compare to the "rougher" drinks of the settlers and sailors that she was used to partaking in. Even wine wasn’t as… nicely subtle as this.

“Blessed are our c-childern… who we give our world to.”

Another deeper gulp. Throat and eyes burning from what she pretended was only from the alcohol; she forced the dark away and leaped out of her chair. Giving a twirl both physically and mentally, she landed on a table and spread her arms as an entertainer would. She hoped Eliza would approve of the movements as the residing expert of the art of entertainment.

“Greetings friends! New, old, and yet to be! The hunts and battles have passed, and celebrations must be had!” *giggle* “We should not let the raids spoil are parades!” *giggle* “Tales and songs are being sung and old shoguns are getting drunk!” The beginning hints of a tipsy blush was starting to color the tan skinned girl's cheeks; she took another long drink from the sake and she decided it would be her new favorite now… *hiccup* “As food is gathered and given in thanks, for those living and those lost, I offer friendship from the Powhatan to the Tokugawa.”

The “performer” twirled again “on stage” and in particular looked at the new male Servant to gage his reaction towards Toko’s clan name and her friendship offer. It was better to ambush an enemy before they even could become an enemy. Strong alliances were one way of stopping a war bloodlessly before it could even become an option. Continuing her twirl after looking at the Oda she ended it facing Toko, and threw her head back.

She felt the flames inside her stomach (the ones that weren’t caused by sake) and willed it to take form. Puckering her lips, a small gout of flame escaped her throat and formed a fairly crude, if still recognizable image of the Tokugawa crest. The complex shape of flames used the rest of the Greek Fire’s fuel and was only able to burn in the air above her for a dozen or so seconds before fading.

Finished with her “show” the tribal girl curtsied to Toko and took another gulp of the liquid in the cute little bottle. It would be her last taste of the drink as the remaining amount left the bottle, into her increasing needing to start cartwheeling body. “Oh wait… Imma supposed to…” Lifting the bottle she smashed it onto the ground as her friend had before. “Hmmm…. Was I supposed to drink all of it that fast? I should have let Lucas-chan have some too…” the Servant of the bow mumbled to herself.

@CatJones @BlightGiver @TelisOldfield @Dragonruby @AJustKnight @LoneSniper87 @SunRaHunter


Dragon's Hoard
So caught up in his thoughts was the man that he barely noticed Anastasia calling him, taking a moment before he jolted back into reality. "Ah? Oh shit, sorry!" He apologized for his delay. His embarrassment only grew when Da Vinci showed up, and he was left standing there awkwardly. A group of people with a stretcher moved to take the doctor away, and Lucas watched them go, at least until his attention was drawn towards Aine and Anastasia.

He blinked at them blankly for a moment, struggling to come up with a response for them, mentally cursing himself for not paying more attention to what he had been saying. He glanced to the side, wondering how much he should tell them, but he quickly made up his mind. Roman had been planning on dropping it sooner or later, and after this, it was best for everyone to know. "There... was an attack on the support staff earlier... while we were all out on the mission..." Lucas said slowly, trying to remember how much the two girls knew of what had happened. "It wasn't a Servant like this, but some sort of scorpion apparently... Probably a familiar of some sort." He gave a helpless shrug. "That's all Dr. Roman told me earlier anyways. He was planning on telling everyone soon enough, but I went and asked him about it first right after we got back. Didn't think they'd do something like this so soon after the first attempt."

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Archer leaping up to start... dancing? The hell was going on? He figured they'd be a bit more serious about Chaldea being under potential threat. Lucas quickly shelved it as something to inquire Archer about later however, as his attention was caught by Da Vinci instead and he turned back towards her, parroting back her statement. "Wait, what? Did you say the Grail we brought back was gone!? When? How?"

@BlightGiver @LoneSniper87 @SunRaHunter @Midoria
Lancer plopped down onto the table she had used for height in her attack on Lancelot. The rouge knight had been dispatched rather easily, obviously weakened greatly by her draconic breath attack. She watched as Poca and Avenger conversed about their own worldly problems, occasionally following Avengers finger towards the new male servant. She wasn't interested in men, not in any capacity, so speaking to him was a far and away concept. Boys were gross, smelled gross, looked gross. Like a twinkie smashed in its wrapper.

Worse still, he had the smell. As did the woman who came in with Lucas from the hall, another stranger. On women the smell was delicious, sweet and tangy with a copper undertone. On men the smell was like wet carpet. She turned her nose up at Berserker and her master, talking to such an unsightly fiend was a terrible choice. Instead, she chose to focus on what she assumed what his master. The girl was frail looking and attractive. She considered making her over to them and joining the conversation but chose against it.

She would find a better and more secluded time to talk to this deerling, bringing her attention back to Berserker. She hadn't forgotten the older womans threats of a time-out, and was still trying to figure a good time to exact a better punishment for trying to harass a star. A good prank would clear up any misconception of who was the better Servant. Another distraction pulled her away as Poca showed off her stage presence, loudly calling out some teamwork between some people and some other people.

"What a drama queen." Lacner mumbled to herself as Poca breathed fire immediately after her announcement.



Tap A to not die as fast.
It was always a spectacle to watch someone else become drunk. Archer said some sort of prayer, either from her Western faith or her peoples natural faith, before she took most drinks. Toko watched in both pride and besmirched joy as her friend downed the bottle rather quickly, it taking effect with a alarming speed. It seemed like she had released a loose cannon onto Cheldea in the form of inebriated Poca. The smaller woman used her agility to twirl on top of a table and deliver a short speech to the rest of the cafeteria.

It was a simple call to revelry, it would probably seem out of place with the recent fight, but perhaps it would help to relieve some of the stress that seemed to be plaguing a few of the others. And herself, obviously. However, some words her friend chose hit a little close to home in regards to certain feminine things. 'Old shogun?' Toko quietly complained to herself. She had been 73 when she had finally died, but she was in her younger daimyo form. Her current body wasn't a day over 30. She coughed into the sleeve of her shirt, letting the incidental slight wash over her.

It wasn't the time nor the place to cause a scene over something so trivial. Besides, the show Poca put on put the thought from her mind. Being able to shoot fire from her mouth was certainly a rare talent, and the dazzling symbol of the Tokugawa crest that Poca made was a wondrous sight to behold. The feeling of pride and joy she had felt the first time her crest had been used on an official document was the only compatible memory Toko had to compare this moment to. Her admittedly ancient heart danced with glee. She had seen the brief pause Archer had taken, watching the Oda man.

The show finished with a curtsy from the sloshed Bow Master. Avenger attempted to follow suit, her own drunkenness and lack of practice becoming her undoing, as her legs seemingly locked around one another and she tumbled over, sprawled out on her back, giggling uncontrollably. She had needed this kind of relaxation, the kind of drunken stupor that let one forget their woes. Poca smashed the other bottle on the ground only a foot or two away from her, enticing more giggles from the warlord. The giggle continued as Poca mumbled about sharing the sake.

“Lucas-chan!?” She rolled over and crawled to her knees and slowly stood back up. “Lucas-chan? You could call him kun if you just want to refer to him as a friend.” She gave a wry smile at the idea of Lucas-chan. It was funny to hear her friend emulate her customs. Though, she knew of something that would be even funnier.

“Poca, watch this! Hey Oda! Anata wa kegareta kurīpu! Usero!” She called out to the Rider servant. She didn't think about the fact that Poca wouldn't know what she was saying, and that was fine. She would fill her in later. She giggled, not waiting to see his reaction, instead turning back to Archer, a wide smile on her face.

“Does he look hurt?”

@SunRaHunter @Midoria


Upsetti Spaghetti
Mordred's guilt didn't drain away as quickly as she thought it would. Her alternative for why Assassin was missing switched from 'Maybe she's left behind' to 'maybe she's just dead'. His optimism seemed powerful though, as he brushed off the idea of his servant being any danger and she was instead just skulking the facility. If they looked like father they would surely have some of his personality, so it didn't make sense that he would be to shy to meet the rest of the team.

It must have been someone who just looked like father, a doppleganger like the Saber this team had. A nerve struck in her as John went to find his Servant. She wasn't sure whether it would be okay to follow him or not. The part of her that had developed after her Fathers demise told her to follow and help as it would be a knights duty. The other part of her that reminded her that sometimes some things needed to be done in solitude. Her face was a contorted mess of emotions as she made up her mind.

“Hey, call if you need any help.” She called after him, following to the door, looking out the door after him, waiting just inside the door for him to answer. She wanted to go talk to Rider, since it had been a few days since they had last spoke, but she couldn't turn her back on someone else who needed help. She would wait a few seconds for him, but if he seemed determined to do it on his own, she would abide that request.



Professional Brick Thrower
Skorl was having more than his fair share of curiosity sated. Sure, pistols such as Rider's weren't exactly modern weaponry, but when something like that proves itself as just a match or even superior, it's hard for the master to keep quiet. "You must use those with masterful skill. All I really have for offense is just a few crystals; though I've always wanted to try other weapons...." During this conversation, Raikou was very much paying attention to the words being exchanged. "Master," she interrupted. "Firearms are way too dangerous; I completely forbid you from using them, let alone going near them." Skorl winced at this order from his Servant; although, this was something he should expect from her by now. "I don't need supervision for this, Raikou. We both more than understand the risks of guns, but there's..." Skorl was silenced by the Berserker placing her hand over his mouth. "That's final; no firearms."

The hardheaded servant would accept nothing other than total compliance, so Skorl merely nodded. "I'll have to explain her mentality to you at some point." He blurted, anticipating another attempt at censorship from Raikou. "Regardless, everything's been such a mess today. And it's obvious that even in Chaldea, no one is safe. That's just peachy." Skorl complained, looking around at everyone else. Archer had seemingly gotten drunk and was providing a rather degrading display to everyone there. The rest of the servants and master were busy; except for Lancer, who Skorl noticed giving glances at Raikou. At one point, they looked each other in the eyes, before the diminutive servant gazed elsewhere. "How about your master, Oda? Do you think she'd be in any sort of mortal danger here?" Raikou suddenly asked of the servant.

@SunRaHunter @TelisOldfield @Midoria @CatJones

Da Vinci immediately acknowledged her folly, now having set in motion another potential drop in morale. "Damn my big mouth. And did you say Roman told you of the- oh nevermind; I'll discuss that with him later." She grumbled, trying to put pieces together of what to say without upsetting anyone. "Yes, the stupid grail is gone. Most likely taken during our bothersome "chef" trying to kill everyone." With Roman currently indisposed, Da Vinci was now left having to explain things to everyone. Of course, she was always the better half when it came to properly addressing information to people, so the task shouldn't be too difficult. "I'm sorry that your work in London was put to waste. Really, I am." She hesitated speaking further, wanting to give Lucas a chance to think this through.

Although, after a few brief moments, she was prepared to continue babbling on. "At least this proves our common foe can't easily come after us here. Ok, maybe I shouldn't say that, but they obviously need some help, like a distraction caused by a raving berserker/saber knight. Otherwise, they would have just taken the grail at any time." Looking at Ana, who the caster was sure might not be fully in league with all that's been going on so far. "Ok, we'll have to give you the full run through later as well, Anastasia. But right now, we can deduce that the familiar and Lancelot both came from the same place. If that is true, we might be able to take this fight to the enemy's turf instead of this expensive place." Da Vinci extraneously added, surveying all the mangled plastic and table remains of the cafeteria. This allowed her to also notice John leaving the kitchen through the staff exit, 'Oh dear. Something must've gone wrong for him, too. Damn it all!' She pondered, gritting her teeth at the worst possibilities. Mordred's body language showed that she too was in a bit of a kerfuffle, sometimes turning toward the doorway John took.

@AJustKnight @LoneSniper87 @Dragonruby @Syvvaris
Riders face lit up at the compliment's bestowed by Skorl on his marksmanship. It had been one of the few things he had ever been able to snatch away from his brother when it came to superiority. He had always had a natural penchant for rifles and pistols, his father had even called him a prodigy with them, one of the few good memories he had of his late father. Having so many brothers, coupled with being the runt of the litter, left few opportunities to receive praise from either of his parents, even considering how much his mother had doted on him. If only it had been something other then a rifle. Something, anything, other then a weapon of war.

His conscious was grateful that Raikou was less favorable in her tolerance of his preferred weapon. A cold sheet of regret swept across him, he had offered a killing tool to someone against his better judgment. In the same moment, however, he wondered why Raikou would be against firearms, but not the katana she had used in battle. How many had the sword killed, both enemy and master? Was it not the greatest weapon of war for its killing power, its ability to preserve honor? Then again, he didn't know her stance on the sword. He didn't want to pry into the woman's life. She was at higher station then he so it would be rude to just start barraging her with questions.

Thankfully he was forced away from that line of thought by more serious questions from Skorl. Was his Master safe? His smile never dulled but he did find himself chewing on his lower lip, anxious at the revelation he had to put out. He was weak. As a servant, as a hero, as a man. In a fight he could only rely on his horse and pistols. In a one-on-one fight he was more of an annoyance or a weighty issue then a threat. He had sworn an oath when he first met his Master that so long as he drew breath, he would do everything in his power to protect her.

“No. I think she's perfectly safe here. With so many great heroes like Raikou-ue, Saber-senpai and Sir Mordred, I don't worry for her safety. I may not be much but I'll sell my soul to every demon in Hell before I allow anyone to hurt her.” Despite his lack of courage and strength, he kept his voice even. The smile on his face never wavered, either. What was that old saying? 'A samurai will use a toothpick even if he hasn't eaten. Outside, hide of a tiger; inside, hide of a dog.'

He stiffened as someone called at him just a moment after he finished speaking. Spinning on his heels, shock and surprise marring his features as he faced his insulter. The other Japanese woman, the one spending her time with the woman dancing on the table. He still had no concrete evidence of who she was, he was assuming it was Matsudaira Motoyasu, since that would explain how she knew who he was. He had little dealings with anyone outside of his family and the Hayashi family, but his final resting place had been close to Matsudaira lands.

Her insults, calling him a 'dirty creep', were actually rather immature compared to the things his brother had called him growing up. He was surprised to be called out, but his smile returned quickly. They were still very attractive and he was still very terrified by the idea of talking to them. Every attractive woman during his time had been focused on his brother. Probably explained why some of his other brothers never married. So far every woman here was attractive, even his Master was a looker. He had been able to focus on Raikou being his superior to distract himself from her feminine ways. He turned back to Skorl.

“I guess I don't have to introduce myself to those two. They seem to already know something about me. May I ask you as to who they are?”


“Great.” Aine mumbled, put off by the news that Cheldea wasn't even safe anymore. Two break ins on the same day were an obvious hint that it was the start of the problem. To make matters worse, she was aware of the hypocrisy of arguing that she didn't like how powerful servants were yet wanting one stronger then Rider. They all seemed to have more powerful, or at minimum, competent Servants. She made sure not to speak her mind on the matter of servants.

“So, your teams just captured a Holy Grail and yet the enemy still attacked. Wouldn't that mean that not only did they take the grail, but that they have enough sway to attack at will? It seems like we're on the defensive.” Aine noted, giving a pointed nod of the head to Ana, unsure of where she stood in this group[; either as a Master who just came back from the mission or was still new, like herself.

“I'm Aine. Master of Rider.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her jacket. It was an awkward slight towards the other woman veiled behind the fact that she didn't want to make to much contact with her less then acceptable appearance. She sized up the other woman, lithe but attractive, in a seemingly defensive stance with one arm blocked from accessibility. Injury or perhaps a psychological favor of one side of her body over the other? Aine let the thought go. Instead focusing on the matter at hand.

“Unfortunately, I'm not much good in combat. I really only know one type of magic and it's rather draining to use in any powerful capacity.” She was unwilling to admit that her magic was completely anathema to life. She was sure they would be deployed rather soon, assuming the next morning wasn't unreasonable. The other Masters had to be tired and most likely couldn't deploy, but there was no way they were the only team dealing with this situation. That would be ludicrous.

@Dragonruby @LoneSniper87
Anastasia, in all this, just sighed. So much was going on, none of it correlated, and she found the ability to focus on Aine. "Pleasure to meet you." She stepped forward, offering her good hand, keeping her other hand at her side, slightly behind her. "Anastasia, but Ana is just as fine. Master of Shielder." She saw that the woman wasn't inclined fo shake hands, and slowly moved her hand fo her side, feeling a bit like a fool. "I specialize in ice, mainly... I do practice healing magic, however." She informed the other Master. "How new are you? I don't believe I've ever seen you before." She asked.



Junior Member
John was a dozen steps down before Shielder called out to him. He turned around and when he saw the worry in her eyes he felt an unwelcomed pit in his stomach. Her resemblence to Mysterious Heroine X was uncanning; and he felt a sudden emptiness looking at her. It was as if he was falling, being told a close family member died, and hit in the back of the head all at the same time. "I... um..." He started to say before the unresistable urge to look at his hand provoked its intended purpose. The scarlet red command seals had vanished and left a small trace that they were ever there. "I... dont think I need to search for her anymore..." He defeatedly admitted with a nervous smile. It was obvious that he was trying to hold back a tidal wave of emotions.

"Assassin left me..." John whispered and turned away from Shielder with his hands running through his disgruntled hair. His hands couldn't stay still and ran over his face, arms and themselves in desperation to grasp the situation that had unfolded. "Why did she leave me?" He paced around the hallway, having forgotten that he was not alone in the hallway.

"Was it me?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Did I not do something that I should have?"

"Did she leave on her own? Was I not providing enough mana to her?"



Bad Civilization!
“Lucas-kun? Hmm… Lucas-chan sounds cuter though.” Archer mumbled while hopping off the table as Toko called out (what she assumed were funny insults) to the male Servant. Hearing the words, he swiftly turned towards them in shock and looked at them. He smiled at the two inebriated Servants with a hint of nervousness after his surprise faded and went back to conversing with Berserker and her Master.

Rebecca turned back towards her giggling friend and gave her report. “He was surprised! *giggled* but he just smiled afterwards. I think he might be nice Toko-chan… I’mma make first contact!” Forgetting her friend’s warning of the new Servant, Rebecca hopped back up on the table and began expertly skipping from table to table as she made her way towards her new target. On one of her hops she paused for a moment before her next as she spotted Anastasia and Aine talking to each other. A spark of sobriety flashed through her happily swimming mind as she remembered Aine’s Od exhaustion. She still needed to find the pretty Master’s Servant… could it be the Oda?

Turning back towards the male Servant she continued her table hopping with a new, slightly more sober purpose. At the last table she skipped off and landed a few inches away from her target. If she had been sober, Rebecca would have taken a few steps back out of what was likely the male’s “personal zone.” A concept that Lucas had taught her after several “incidents” that had happened when she had first been summoned… she was not allowed to talk about those "incidents" anymore… Lucas was shy boy. Additionally, had she been sober she would have given a proper greeting and curtsy as was expected of a lady. Rebecca however was not sober and was swiftly falling from tipsy into full inebriation as the minutes flowed by.

Looking up at the well-dressed male she gave a flirty, drunken smile, folding her arms "shyly" behind her back, and coyly leaned even closer into the male’s space. “Hello… I’m Poca. What’s your name? You’re new… hmm… are you the Servant of the new pretty little Master I ran into? Aine-chan?” Poca titled her head in “innocent” curiosity. If this was the Servant of Aine, then Archer would have several more issues, in addition to the ones Toko provide her with, regarding this Servant.

@CatJones @SunRaHunter
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Upsetti Spaghetti
Shielder felt her skin crawl. John's pain was visible in his eyes and hands, the way they shook and sought the warmth of his own form. With each question he asked the air, she felt her own form shake in desperation to answer any of his questions. If not for her armor, it would be obvious she was just as lost for for words she was. The way he spoke gave a measurement to how deep their relationship had been.

She removed her armor, once more in jeans and a collared shirt. She approached him slowly, like coming to a wild animal caught in a snare. Grief was a terrible thing to behold but to discount it was to discount where it came from. To grieve means to have loved once. Standing behind the man, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. She knew the kind of grief that he felt. The kind that twists up inside of a person and nestles just below the heart, never leaving; only growing comfortably small enough to live with. Even if they hadn't been lovers, they could still have been friends enough to warm each other with their presence alone.

To make the situation worse, she bore a face similar to the one he had lost. She turned her head away, her hair blocking out her face from view. She didn't have the strength to lie to him, to say it would be okay. It wouldn't be okay; not for a time. That was the evil of grief. The only cure for it is to grieve. There wasn't much else could do.

She imagined it would help some. She had been lonely after Camlann Hill, wishing for just someone else to be there, just be there. It was silence that did the most damage, she thought. The silence of being alone. She kept her hand on his shoulder, instinctively flexing her hand little by little, her deceptively strong finger massaging his shoulder as she did so.



Dragon's Hoard
The information Da Vinci provided was... not good, though that seemed like it was underselling the situation by a fair margin. Cradling his elbow with one hand, he placed his other hand over his mouth in thought as his eyes trailed towards the ground while he processed Da Vinci's words. The enemy had sent in a Servant to distract everyone while they pillaged the Grail for themselves... A Servant... How could they have gotten hold of a Servant? Was their foe another Magus? However, now this meant that they were under constant threat, one much more nefarious than before. At the very least with monster scorpions, or whatever it was they'd sent the first time, it was hard to mistake them for anything other than an enemy, but Chaldea was filled with Servants. If you couldn't trust any of them...? No. Personal health wasn't the biggest target under threat here. They'd gone specifically for the Grail. Right after we'd brought it back. Were they the ones responsible for the Singularities? Or perhaps were we gophers of some sort, doing the hard labor for them to simply snatch up the treasures once we'd mopped up the resistance? He shut his eyes and shook his head as he willed himself to think of other things for the moment. Thinking himself to death would be of no use at the moment.

He glanced up and looked around his surroundings, taking in what everyone was doing, tallying who was present. Aine and Anastasia were making introductions nearby, right besides him really, Skorl and his Berserker were entertaining another Servant of some sort, meanwhile John was being comforted by Shielder for a reason Lucas didn't know of at the moment. Oh, and Archer and Avenger were getting drunk in the corner... For a moment, Lucas felt a sudden surge of anger surging into his chest. What sort of disorganized mess was this? Here they were, just moments after an attack, and already they'd devolved into this... this... mess! Saber, a Servant Lucas wanted nothing to do with, was at least seriousness enough, but she didn't seem to have any other modes either, so that wasn't much of a gain.

Lucas focused, tamping down on his anger. He was being unfair, he told himself. After all, they were all people... Who was he to judge them for their actions after a stressful situation. He had no right to see them as simple resources to act as he saw fit, even if he still found the situation a little frustrating. He gave another sigh. "For the moment it might be best if everyone kept their Servants nearby, no matter what they're doing..." Lucas glanced up towards Da Vinci. "It'd probably be best if we let everyone else know as well... Do we know for certain whether or not they'll be attacking us again soon? I know it might not be possible to truly know, but it'd at least mean the difference between passing it along right now, or at least giving everyone here a bit of time to unwind before we go on with whatever comes next..."



Tap A to not die as fast.
Archers response wasn't what she had hoped for. A deep part of her knew the bubbly servant would get involved in the sorted affair that was the Oda clan. She guffawed at the notion however, she was certain that Nobukatsu was more detrimental to himself then any plot or plan could ever be. When she had been alive, Hanzo Hattori had been her most useful tool off the battlefield. With people she disliked on one side and people she was at war with on the other, Hanzo and his kisho ninja's given her the foresight to choose a winning horse. That horse had been the Oda. The betrayal of Nobukatsu hadn't been a deciding factor, but the response from his brother had been. Punishing his brother in every way; taking his home, his family, his soldiers, his respect, his sense of joy and calm, and finally, his life. It had been the measured response that every warlord took, done with perfect precision. It hadn't even slowed him down, hadn't made him doubt himself. A measured response to a measured problem.

Maybe that's what made Archer so admirable to her. The girl was one surprise after another. Noble heritage of some sort and yet she still acted a lovable fool. Which was precisely why the political ploy made Tokugawa's heart sink. She had no idea the personality of Nobukatsu, only his deeds. Partial bluff, partial bias had created the monster she wanted to see. If he was 'nice', then surely Archer would have a seed of doubt in her trust. A drunken mistake. She hoped to remedy it by intervening, publicly exposing her enemy. If he admitted to it, she could save face.

But instead, Archer was bounding to the man, table after table, yard after yard. A bead of sweat rolled down the warlord's brow. She knew she shouldn't be getting so worked up over something so simple; had Archer really impacted her that much?

She followed suit but keeping her distance from the conversation. She had no interest in talking directly to the shorter man. Archers question was inane, just who he was and who is master was. Her posture and smile was disarming, drunken as it was. It was overkill. His posture had been defensive even when talking amicably. The way he kept his hands hidden from view, and made sure to speak as if everyone was above him. She was curious to see his response, sitting in a nearby chair to let Archer work her magic, so to speak.

'Nice'. The word echoed in her head, an intrusive thought that made the sake in her stomach sour. No Oda was nice. Being an Avenger had it's drawbacks. She wanted, more then anything in the world, to just go off on him. Berate him, slap him, remind him of his lowly status. So, why couldn't she?

@Midoria @SunRaHunter

Saber found herself alone. The others were deep into a world of serenity. As if the attack had never happened. As if there wasn't a hole in the wall. She grit her teeth. She understood that there was little they could actively do, but this fairy nonsense that everything was okay was problematic. They needed to be reminded that there was now a threat around every corner. This kind of situation was not one she could deal with as effectively on her own.

She scanned the others faces, taking note of Lucas doing the same. He seemed on edge but that wasn't to foreign an idea. His servant was acting like a drunken fool, making an arrogant display before everyone else, even when she wasn't trying to. She and Avenger seemed particularly focused on that Rider servant, though there methods were contradictory in dealing with him. The only other 'loner' she could see was Lancer. The pubescent stage queen seemed equally disillusioned with the current state of affairs.

She made her way past the others until she was standing before the 'idol'. She wordlessly took a seat next to the Servant, noting the girl was scanning the others as well.

“The second you're not the center of attention you begin to act so subdued?” She asked with no emotion or inflection. It was almost a statement more then a question especially coupled with her not focusing on the servant in question, keeping a distracted but commanding view of the rest of the group. Almost a regal lion.



Junior Member
For a moment everything except for John's distraught vanished in self-doubt and shock from his servant abandoning him. His fragile reality crashed in on itself when Shielder softly grasped his shoulder. Tears had already started to well in his eyes and he turned to see the womanly figure of Shielder. Shielder had shedded her armor and appeared more womanly than she had a second ago. Though her touch seemed to want to comfort him, she was looking away from him as if she were grieving with him.

"Shielder..." His voice slightly raspy, and it seemed she was feeling the same way as she was because of him. John wasn't sure of what to say to make her seem as if it is not her fault but his. His eyes wondered to the floor then back to her, and composed himself after a deep breathe. For Assassin to leave him without notice was his fault and no one else. "Its not your fault..." He said softly and reached out to direct her chin towards himself. "This is going to be hard to deal with, I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I'm... going... to go relieve some stress." John pulled out a hand wrapped cigarette from the seem of his shirt. "Have you ever tried smoking?" He asked with his concern for Assassin still written on his face.

Lancer gave a coarse look as Saber spoke to her. The older woman was less then pleasant, even when she was trying to be friendly. Lancer shifted on top of the table, her tail swinging dully behind her. She knew that Saber was trying to get a rise out of her, trading psychical combat for verbal. Who was she to act so high and might? The moment there a dull spot in battle she just attacks the nearest person. Lancer realized she should be saying this out loud.

“Yeah, and the second there no one left to fight, you start picking fights with everyone around you. It's like you really don't like us or something.” Lancer grinned, leaning onto an elbow to try and appear nonchalant about the insult.

“I mean, what if you needed help from one of us, but we all thought you're such a butt that we don't want to help you? You'd feel PRETTY stupid then, huh?” The diminutive drake checked her nails, lifting an arm up to look at them in the fluorescent light. She kept finding herself looking at the largest group of people in the room, the one that held her BFF Archer. She was trying to speak to that bloody boy.

Part of her felt bad for her friend. If only could she could smell him, she wouldn't want to be anywhere near him. Then again, Avenger smelled similar too. They both smelled like blood, but not theirs. Like they were just carrying someone else blood with them. It was super raunchy when she thought about it. Aine smelled like the delicious virgins blood, unlike those two. It was all iron and masculine. Saber wasn't much different either. Not a virgin, her son being proof of that, but her armor reeked of other people.

“I can't believe we got another nasty piggy instead of another cute girl for a servant. It's duller then a mid-day show in Manhattan.” She leaned back, laying on the table, before jumping back up as she pinched her tail between her body and the table.

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