If you want to get real technical, it's Herakles. Yay Greek!
True, but since Moczo intends to adopt in-story myths *cough* Hrunting *cough* I thought I'd suggest the Type-Moon wiki version. Unless of course the wiki version was actually a translation mistake instead of standard issue Type-Moon brand creativity...
[rant]What really bugs me about Disney's version? They turned archer Philocthetes, the man who killed Paris, into a freakin' Satyr [/rant]
True, but since Moczo intends to adopt in-story myths *cough* Hrunting *cough* I thought I'd suggest the Type-Moon wiki version. Unless of course the wiki version was actually a translation mistake instead of standard issue Type-Moon brand creativity...
I are bone of the bone translation is ungood
Steal my buddy to file my brood
English is not the well known with the translator is also known not to I
endurance mangling above myth of hundred
but names are will never accurate
praying thusly
the not limit with the translation error is works
Well mostly I would think it would give him more chances to troll Rin. Her hard, tower-like defense is crumbling, so if she did go to see him, he'd be reaching his hands deep in those crevices of weakness and trying to uproot her. This would be just one more part of her trails to overcome her demons as you've said. Plus you've got a wealth of things Kotomine is hiding from her; her father's killer, how her mother went insane, how he pulled the strings to unhinge her 'uncle' Kariya, I even think he knew what happened with Sakura in the 4th War(I might be wrong, I need to read over Fate/zero again). So much stuff, she's a troll's paradise.
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Quote:
Originally Posted by Tiresias
Talkin' about Heracles
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy
Talkin' about Herakles
Fair enough. To which all I can say is that I have never seen a translation of this series, be it MirrorMoon's, the official anime, or the official Manga, where he was not called 'Hercules'. Hercules is just... well, the name people use. Everyone knows it's supposed to be Herac(k)les, but nobody actually calls him that.
Also, I liked that Kevin Sorbo thing. It was so delightfully cheesy!
Well mostly I would think it would give him more chances to troll Rin. Her hard, tower-like defense is crumbling, so if she did go to see him, he'd be reaching his hands deep in those crevices of weakness and trying to uproot her. This would be just one more part of her trails to overcome her demons as you've said. Plus you've got a wealth of things Kotomine is hiding from her; her father's killer, how her mother went insane, how he pulled the strings to unhinge her 'uncle' Kariya, I even think he knew what happened with Sakura in the 4th War(I might be wrong, I need to read over Fate/zero again). So much stuff, she's a troll's paradise.
Well, the daddy issues are probably going to be touched on the most since by deciding to save Sakura, Rin is outright defying/contradicting the ideal and beliefs her father left behind for her when he died. So that's definitely one weakness Kotomine will take great pleasure out of trolling.
Quote:
Originally Posted by LostHanyou
And through all this, he likes Rin quite a bit.
Kotomine is such a glorious bastard...
Honestly, in the final fight, I'm half tempted for him to actually feel proud of her for coming so far.
To which all I can say is that I have never seen a translation of this series, be it MirrorMoon's, the official anime, or the official Manga, where he was not called 'Hercules'. Hercules is just... well, the name people use. Everyone knows it's supposed to be Herac(k)les, but nobody actually calls him that.
...can't argue with THAT, I guess Damn the Romans
Quote:
He tossed aside his sword, now useless having pierced the thing's skin even once, and projected a new weapon, a shining golden blade as beautiful as the last weapon had been ominous, and brought it around in a ruthless stab through the thing's spine. Is that enough for one life? Can't be sure, but even if it is it won't slow him for...
Did he actually killed berserker once? And was the golden blade Caliburn?
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Quote:
Originally Posted by Tiresias
Did he actually killed berserker once? And was the golden blade Caliburn?
Hmmm... maybe and maybe? I was deliberately being vague on both so I can more easily screw around with things later .
Actually, on that note, I recall reading somewhere that Godhand regenerates lives if Berserker manages to avoid dying for long stretches of time. Anyone know anything about that?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Haak
If Archer remembers Caster, shouldn't he be able to spam Rule Breaker now?
Possibly in his timeline he never saw her Noble Phantasm? We don't know the details. Maybe it was like in Fate or HF where she died very quickly and he never saw the thing, which would mean it isn't in his version of Unlimited Blade Works.
Actually, on that note, I recall reading somewhere that Godhand regenerates lives if Berserker manages to avoid dying for long stretches of time. Anyone know anything about that?
Possibly in his timeline he never saw her Noble Phantasm? We don't know the details. Maybe it was like in Fate or HF where she died very quickly and he never saw the thing, which would mean it isn't in his version of Unlimited Blade Works.
Huh? Emiya DID see Rule Breaker in both Fate and HF (proving to be a massive Chekhov's Gun in the latter route). Unless you're refferring to Archer which is just a real mind screw.
Location: Pennsylvania. It's sort of like a real state.
Age: 39
Quote:
Originally Posted by Haak
Huh? Emiya DID see Rule Breaker in both Fate and HF (proving to be a massive Chekhov's Gun in the latter route). Unless you're refferring to Archer which is just a real mind screw.
Well, I was just using those examples to imply similar events, not identical ones. Maybe in Archer's timeline it was like Fate, only Gilgamesh showed up at the house two minutes earlier and killed the Hell out of Caster before she took the knife out. We don't know, so...
Right at the bottom it says "Due to Ilya's high amount of mana, Beserker's stored lives will also regenerate over time after they are used". So he CAN regenerate his lives but it's not an ability of God Hand.
Right at the bottom it says "Due to Ilya's high amount of mana, Beserker's stored lives will also regenerate over time after they are used". So he CAN regenerate his lives but it's not an ability of God Hand.
Ah, thanks! I probably should have looked there first, considering...
HF implies that Ilya has at least some idea of who Zouken is, yes (and vice-versa...).
Quote:
In that case, wouldn't she know it would be wise to kill him first and foremost and would be worth giving the command spell to do so?
No, because she can't. Smashing his body to pieces can't kill him. If she really tried, she might just be able to force him to possess Sakura, but even that is pretty unlikely.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ricky Controversy
Spoiler:
Fate/Last Forge
Prologue
“Discretion. There is such a thing as discretion, you know.” The voice said. It filled the ears of the man tied to the only chair in the room, starting to sweat profusely from the brightly burning lamp just an inch above his head. “I'm sorry, is that uncomfortable? I wasn't really expecting you to be so tall.” The voice was conciliatory, its owner fidgeting sympathetically just beyond the swath of light. His (her? its?) form could only be seen vaguely, a weak assurance it was human despite evidence to the contrary.
“Bullshit! You let me go this instant you bastard!” the man snarled, chomping at the bit as he shifted his weight futilely. “Don't you have any idea who I am?” The man flinched and rocked back when an arm shot out from the darkness, brown leather glove gripping the rim of the lamp.
“Hey, hey don't shift around so much, it causes problems.” The voice spoke casually. It had to be a woman didn't it? No, on second thought, that sounded like a man. A boy, maybe? “It's a rickety building, you know?” A single firm tug on the lamp and a cloud of plaster fell from the ceiling onto the man's face, wires loosened.
“Are you listening to me? I'm going to have your head for this, I'm—” Then, a forceful push, and the lamp sailed into his face, the rim scraping against his scalp, one of the white-hot bulbs searing and shattering against his face as he was tipped to the floor.
“Oh, I know exactly who you are, good sir,” the voice said grandly, apparently deaf to the shrieks rising from before his feet. “Punjit Rasharl. Born May 8th, 1983 in Mumbai, India. Three sisters, two brothers, divorced, one son. You are President of Brahmin Electronics which has become quite prosperous as of late—”
“God, I have glass in my eyes you crazy son of a bitch!” Rasharl said, clawing at the fragments in desperation.
“—and you have glass in your eyes.” The voice paused, then the figure stepped into the halved lamplight, stooping down over the prone man. “But what I'm more interested in is the reason your company is suddenly so prosperous. It's the processor you've developed. It's quite a fancy piece of work. Maybe too fancy...for a normal human?” These words stopped Rasharl cold just as he'd finished removing the shards. When his one survivng eye opened, it was wide and fixed on the featureless gray mask, encircled by tattered scraps of brown leather. Even in the light, the form seemed a mockery of humanity.
“You...what are you saying? We've been—”
“Secretly developing that chip for eight years, right? I know that little PR cover well enough, I helped you cook up the details, Mr. President, sir.” The voice suddenly carried a lilting, feminine note of familiarity, and the prone man felt the last of his will to struggle leave his body, forced out by shock. “See, this brings me back to my main point. There is such a thing as discretion. Because I employed some, you never gave a second thought to how strange it was that one of your board members should happen to find just the right adviser for your needs right before you shipped the new hardware. Because you didn't employ any—” the gloved hands suddenly wrapped around the throat of the listless Rasharl, closing tightly “—it's absolutely pathetic how obvious magecraft was in your design. Miracles of science happen, but not on your R&D budget and not on your time frames. Did you even think of the consequences if normal people were to discover magic exists because—oh, I suppose you're dead now, aren't you.”
The figure released the crushed throat, leaving the body to lay in ruins while it stepped back into the shadows to retrieve a can of oil and a box of matches. After opening the can and dousing the surroundings, it hands retreated into the mass of rough leather scraps the concealed its body and produced a still-boxed pre-pay phone. It tore open the box indelicately and quickly punched in a few numbers with one hand while it stood the chair upright with the other and sat in it, swinging its legs back and forth.
“It's done. I just have the cleanup left. ...No, he didn't even have any spells to try, enhancement is all he knows—well, knew. ...Yeah, it's safe to do a wipe. ...Good, I'll expect my pay in three days. ...No, you'll have to find me all over again if you need me. Goodbye.” It shut off the phone, throwing it carelessly to the floor as it rose from its seat.
“Hey, guess what?” it asked the still body at its feet. “That was the board member that introduced us two months ago! Good times, good times. So, listen. Turns out he's a magus himself, and he called me in to try and put some hush hush on this whole processor thing when he found out about it. Remember when I told you to dumb it down a bit? Yeah, I was trying to prevent all this. So I don't want you to take it personally that some guys are going to destroy everything related to your research and life, so it will be just like you never existed. But, you know, it was your fault. Toodles!”
The figure crossed the shadows to the rotting wooden door, struck a match and threw it, turning its back as the room went ablaze.
--- --- --- --- ---
The sun had just begun to rise, the first rays of white filtering in through the library window, falling upon the seated form of an elderly woman. She sat there serenely, eyes closed, hands folded in her lap, her posture practiced and upright.
“Madam,” she heard her butler say as he entered the room. “A guest has arrived for you, a young lady, it seems.” That puzzled her somewhat, and she opened her piercing ice-blue eyes to study the butler's face a moment.
“I see. Send her in.”
“Certainly.”
She turned her head to peer out the window and heaved a sigh, her body aching as she shifted about ever so slightly in the cushioned seat. The unexpected always exacerbated her weak condition, and she had to confess that she'd been expecting a man from the voice she'd heard. The butler returned with the guest in tow and...
A man was exactly what she saw. A proud man with something of the aristocracy in him. His face full but not overly, with a healthy color and an angular jaw. He had a broad-built frame in an immaculate black suit, that took confident strides towards her. The woman looked at her butler in shock for a moment, then repressed a look of understanding.
“Ah, yes, come in!” She gestured for the striking visitor to approach. “That will be all, Pieter.”
“Certainly, madam.”
Both elder and visitor watched as the butler excused himself, closing the great mahogany door behind him.
“My name is Hildegaard Kroner,” the woman began. “My butler said he saw a woman. You must be quite a clever illusionist, Mister...?”
“Mister, Miss, for all you know either one works. It's not that clever. We spoke on the phone before and I was using a specific voice to influence what you'd see of me.”
“Oh, so what I see is a trick as well?” The woman inquired, narrowing her piercing eyes at what she perceived as a kind of challenge. She mustered the mana to her eyes for a true sight spell, but the form before her did not so much as flicker. “That's quite something. You are as good as the rumors say.”
“Hm. What else do the rumors say?” the man asked, forcing a polite smile as he cast his eyes to the carpet.
“That you tire quickly of negotiations. So, then, the reason I...or rather, my colleagues and I wish to hire you.” She gasped as pain needled her every nerve when she made the effort to rise.
Especially after using mana like that. Once up, however, she walked towards the man and spoke in a low tone. “You exclusively deal with magi who make spectacles of themselves, yes?”
“Absolutely. For a fitting price. Just because I think it's right doesn't mean it should be free.” the man said, arching a brow knowingly.
“Naturally.” Hildegaard nodded. “Then I have a name in mind that should spark your interest. Mugen Ken. I trust you know of him?” she said, smiling enough for her white but crooked teeth to show.
“Know of him?” the man asked, looking amused. “Who doesn't? The superhero of Japan, a man who doesn't die even if you kill him. The name means 'Unlimited Blades' in English, I think. What about him?”
The woman frowned at this, wondering if that question was in earnest, or sarcastic, and liking neither possibility. She regained her composure and locked eyes with him.
“We want you to deal with him. He's the greatest spectacle of them all. You see, he uses proje—”
“Yes, projection magic, I know. He's quite liberal with it. Distressing, really.”
“So you'll do this?”
“Of course not.”
“Excelle—what did you say?”
“I said I will not go after Mugen Ken.”
“But—”
“Listen, I know how older magi tend to lose sight of reality with all their politicking, but first off, that's an incredibly high-profile target, and a controversial one. A lot of people would be happy to have him dead, but even those people would be asking questions because he's such a hot topic. Second, the man is insanely powerful. Sure, anyone can beat anyone given the right circumstances, but those would be hard to come by here. Third and most importantly, I don't see the threat.”
“But he blatantly uses magic every day with news cameras watching! Millions of people have seen it!”
“...except that he's so fast that nobody except a skilled magus—such as yourself!—would ever notice he's replacing his swords. To everyone else, it just looks like he keeps using the same ones. He knows what discretion is.”
Hildegaard's face soured considerably. The rumor mill had painted a picture of this person in her head that was clearly exaggerated. He was supposed to be a monster, a fanatic begging for handouts. Resistance was the last thing she'd accounted for. Yet, all was not lost if she were willing to be just a little flexible.
“Well, I had not intended to tell you this,” she said, closing her eyes and heaving a great sigh to punctuate her disappointment, “but my colleagues and I have it on good authority that another Holy Grail War is soon to take place in Fuyuki City. We believe very strongly that Mugen Ken will assert himself in it to try to contain the situation. This will, of course, greatly increase the risk of the War becoming a public event, which would be...” she let the sentence hang in the air, and that seemed to perk the man's interest.
“I see. Well, that clears up all my objections, but raises one last question.”
“If I answer it to the best of my ability, will you take this job?”
“For that and fifty million Euros, yes.”
“You are a costly man, but very well. Ask.”
“Why do you think Mugen Ken will get himself involved? How do you know he's even aware of the Grail? He doesn't have any connections to the Mage's Association or the Catholic Church, last I heard.”
“Ah, certain information in our possession suggests that he was a participant from the previous Holy Grail War.”
“A master?”
“Likely, but possibly a servant.”
“...well, you certainly aren't making it much easier on me, but that should be enough.” the man said, raising a hand to stroke his chin. “I'll do it.”
“Excellent.” Hildegaard reached into a sleeve with the opposite hand and produced a folded piece of paper for the man. “The supply point will be in Fuyuki City itself, the particulars are written there, and more information will be waiting for you when you arrive.”
“Right, right. You can call me Cloth,” the man said, stuffing the paper into his shirt pocket. “I'll contact you as soon as I get to Fuyuki.”
Hildegaard nodded and watched him walk to the door, studying him with uncertainty. Was someone who asked so many questions and complained so much really the beast she'd been described? For a moment she wondered if she'd simply hired a different person altogether.
Still, his illusions are powerful... For some reason, an idle thought passed out her lips at that moment.
“Cloth, I suppose it would be futile to ask what you actually look like?” She thought herself frivolous for asking, but could only watch as the man suddenly stopped at the door. Without a word, he turned to look over his shoulder, and on that handsome face was a smile like an infection, twisting its away across his features. His eyes were hungry, and she had to resist the strong urge to collapse from the sudden change. When she regained control of herself, he was gone.
--- --- --- --- ---
Tohsaka Rin was no stranger to mixed feelings. The life of a magus only grew more complicated with time and growth, and being a prodigy made the age of twenty-five rather difficult.
And the Association has never been shy about taking its dues, she thought reflexively. This is something else entirely, though. Her eyes remained sharply focused on the double doors across the room from her even as she worked to effect boredom. Her bi-annual seminar had ended earlier that morning, her bags were packed, and now she'd be missing her flight out of Heathrow.
Sorry, Shirou. In truth, that anything would prolong the ten days they'd already been apart bothered her more than the idea of being directly summoned by The Clock Tower's lords. She let herself glance over to her left, where a secretary was very clearly picking up on Rin's frustration.
“Was ist die Zeit?” she asked carelessly, the secretary jumping in his chair, a horrified expression on his face. Rin wondered at it, then blushed at her error, furrowing her brows tightly. “What time is it?” she forced the English out.
“Ahh, um, it's, it's...” the man had sunk completely behind his desk, and scrambled to get a good look at the face of the small clock on his desk. Apparently at a loss for words, he mutely turned it to face her, his body clearly ready for a dive. Rin sighed and saw it.
“Eleven-fifty...no chance of making it now.”
“N-no chance of m-making what?” the secretary flinched again, and Rin wondered what business such a person had working for the Mage's Association.
Then again, that could be why he's only a secretary. She shook her head. “Hey, I'm not trying to kill someone every time I speak German.” She folded her arms and looked away, not expecting the point to find any purchase in the man's thick skull. As she heaved another sigh, the door across from her opened slowly, the chamber bailiff stepped outside.
“The lords will see you know, Tohsaka-san.” The man spoke with painful formality, and even more painful pronunciation. Rin felt quite certain he was taking a jab at her.
“Listen, I'm going to get you one day,” Rin said, murmuring under her breath when she passed him.
“Very good, Tohsaka-san,” the bailiff replied without missing a beat, expressionless. She hadn't the time to give him her best death glare as he shut the heavy door behind her. A wave of understanding, then trepidation washed over her when she scanned the room and saw none of the attendant officers milling about.
Just the lords and I to have a chat, eh? Promising. She smiled ruefully and took her customary position facing the semi-circular table, equidistant from each of the six lords. Or rather, five, and all of them making a show of not engaging her. By now, she understood what that meant. Letting me speak first because there's nothing I can say. Nevertheless, she ventured an observation.
“Lady Kroner isn't here.” She nodded to indicate the empty chair to her right.
“Quite. The Dean of Mineralogy has had to tend to matters concerning the Kroner family holdings in Africa,” one of the seated men replied. Light green eyes studied Rin from underneath a proud brow, and a close-cut head of coarse, gray hair. The acid-burn marks along the left side of his jaw were the mark of Harkaitz Ezkibel, a lecturer in the Universal Studies department.
“Matters?” Rin tried to push her luck.
“Quite,” Harkaitz repeated, smiling. When he twisted his lips into that shit-eating grin, Rin thought it somehow made his burns even uglier. She averted her eyes to scan the rest of the room. The powdered face of Benoite Moreau, summoner-bitch extraordinaire; and the fat, ever-sweaty face of Dusko Adzovic made plain their annoyance, while the other two remained calmly focused on her.
So those two don't like Harkaitz today, she thought idly. Keeping track of Clock Tower politics was about as easy as capturing light. Both take a sorcerer.
“Well, I'm here in response to your summons.” She died a little inside at the subservient words, but knew it would speed the process along.
“It is, in actuality, extremely serendipitous that my esteemed colleague Hildegaard Kroner should be absent owing to the maintenance of inherited familial properties whilst you prepare to embark on a homeward journey yourself,” Benoite said, turning her eyes up to the ceiling as she did. Rin frowned and let the purple notes echo off the walls for a moment.
“For God's sake, Benny,” a bored-looking, red-bearded man groaned, face resting firmly in his palm. “What she's trying to say is that we want to talk to you about Fuyuki City. It—”
“Mister Wesson, I take exception! My communication was perfectly eloquent and effe—”
“Shut the Hell up, Benny!” Wesson slammed a fist against the table.
Rin would have allowed herself a laugh during the brief hush following, but the words 'Fuyuki City' held her spellbound. “What about my city?”
“Right. Another Holy Grail War is going to happen, and it's happening there.”
No. No! Absolutely not. There is no way, ever, in a thousand year's that I'd let you! These thoughts fought for space inside her mind, but all her body managed through the shock was a weak “...what?”
“Masters have already started making their way there. I would expect things to begin in earnest within the week,” Dusko observed, patting his face down with a handkerchief. The casualness with which he said such a thing did not surprise Rin. No, the magus in Rin was not bothered at all. But every other fiber of her being rejected it.
“The care of Fuyuki City is fully the responsibility of the Tohsaka sisters. Sakura wouldn't clear this, and I sure as hell won't!” she shouted, regaining herself. Her hands clenched into fists immediately. “Not after what happened last time.”
“Or the time before, or the time before that?” The haggard voice came from a pensive-looking older man, his brown eyes seeming to see nothing as he faced Rin. “Or no, just because last time you saw it first-hand? How cruel, daughter of Tohsaka...”
She felt the slight pang of hypocrite's guilt when she looked into the weary face of Tamian Sophia-Ri. He had supposedly once been a vigorous man, the Clock Tower's respected and feared Dean of Spiritual Evocation. Rin learned during her first year as a student that his daughter had passed in the same war as her father. If any of the lords evoked a sense of sympathy—
No, Rin, focus. “Master Sophia-Ri, I appreciate how you feel, but that is exactly why I can't allow another war to happen on my watch. I won't preside over more death.”
“How dare a magus say such a thing, you Tohsaka are only good for tending the grounds of a killing field!” Tamian shouted, voice quavering. “Just because you have felt the sting of it now does not give you a right to...” Rin watched as he trailed off into bitter murmuring. Again she rebuked herself and mustered her composure.
“Even so, Sakura and I have withdrawn the Tohsaka family from its relations with Einzbern. We can't conduct a Holy Grail War, and even if we could, why would we want to?” She glared hard at the lords, the clear blue of her eyes turned to ice.
“Because you do, in fact, still have some business with Einzbern,” Harkaitz smiled again.
I swear to God, it gets uglier each time, Rin thought, hoping for some comfort in familiar ideas. Her heart fell into her stomach when she saw the disfigured lord lift a gold-leaf silken scroll from his desk.
“Perhaps you'll want to read this.”
She swallowed hard and approached the table, reaching out to take the scroll, hands shaking despite her best efforts. Unrolling it, Rin had a memory to match to her feeling. Something she had only seen once before was in her hands: a letter from the Einzbern family, the German written in flawless calligraphy over the elaborate illumination of an angelic woman holding aloft a grail. The white seal was made not of wax, but of a milky resin that changed color at her touch. She remembered well stumbling upon it in her house when she was a child, a thing that the very same father that oversaw her ruthless magus training had hidden from her, a confirmation notice for the Fourth Holy Grail War.
But this one is directly addressed to me. Rin's eyes widened and she suddenly felt dizzy, but made her best effort to step back calmly from the table as she read.
Tohsaka Rin, Proprietor of the Fuyuki City Spiritual Lands, Warden of the Holy Grail, Guest Lecturer of the Mage's Association London Branch and Master of the Fifth Heaven's Feel.
I have written to you with the intention of notifying you of an abnormality which the Einzbern family has discovered. In attempting to cultivate a more perfect homonculus for the purpose of achieving a Heaven's Feel independent of a spiritual focus, we have lost several models due to features unrelated to their design or intended deterioration. After extensively researching the problem at the cost of twelve homonculi, we found that their ailment was caused by their connection to the Grail itself and further, that the Grail's behavior is growing unstable.
While we have been unable to determine the exact cause of this instability--perhaps those who attempted to destroy it in the previous war should have been more thorough?--due to our inability to investigate Fuyuki City itself per familial oversight regulations, the gravity of this situation has made itself apparent to us in that the last three homonculi produced violent magical phenomena entirely independent of their will. We have managed to contain any knowledge of the situation, but we believe the time has come where we must take definitive action. We cannot predict what phenomena may begin to occur outside of our control if the Grail continues to destabilize.
To this end, we insist that you lend your aid in overseeing this Sixth Heaven's Feel. Not wishing any offense, this event will take place whether you wish it or not; our sources tell us that the Grail has already chosen two Masters at the time of this writing, including a magus loyal to Einzbern. We have also prepared a homonculus that has so far proven capable of withstanding the current Grail. We would obviously, of course, prefer to work with the understanding of our old collaborators. Expressing the Grail successfully may stabilize it, but at the very least we shall have a better opportunity to research it and find a solution, but it cannot be overemphasized that we must rely on Fuyuki City's spiritual focus to avoid further risk.
Respectfully,
Jubstacheit von Einzbern, Eighth Patriarch of the White Magi of Creation
Rin didn't know what to feel. Flashes of nostalgia for her father aside, there was no denying that everything about the scroll checked out with what she remembered, especially the imperious overuse of 'we'.
The 'we' that is 'he'. Pompous or not, however, she knew better than to think the head of the Einzbern would waste another magi's time—or more to the point, his own—writing a false letter. So, the Grail was returning to life. Even though Saber... Though the years had calmed her some, her first reaction to sheer confusion was anger.
“Wh-why do you have this letter!? It has my damn name on it!”
“An Einzbern courier delivered the missive directly to this facility's administrative department six days ago, but it was deemed prudent to withhold it from you until such time as it would not pose a risk of interfering with your lecture course,” Benoite said, a slight smile tugging at her tightly pursed lips.
“Looks like that was a good idea, way you look like a ghost and all.” Wesson leaned back in his chair. “The messenger boy did say something interesting, though.”
“Yes, yes.” Dusko let out a chuckle that shook his pudgy face. “The boy said 'Don't be surprised if you have to find new tenants for Fuyuki City soon.'”
“I think the whole thing's quite interesting, really,” Harkaitz said. “Something like the Holy Grail suddenly becomes unstable while its territory is managed by Tohsaka Rin...it raises questions.”
Rin's whole body shook, her blood boiled furiously, and yet she made no sound. The situation was clear: frustratingly, horribly, insultingly clear, and she couldn't do anything about it. Whatever Einzbern was really angling at, he'd done a lot of damage already.
“I assume we have an understanding, Tohsaka.”
She directed her glare firmly at Harkaitz, who seemed to be getting the most pleasure out of all of this.
Now would be a fine time to acquire some Mystic Eyes of Death. But he did not wither or even flinch under her gaze, and instead gestured dismissively for the door.
“There's a car waiting outside to take you to Heathrow, and the Church's supervisor is waiting in it. The flight arrangements are made. We are looking forward to the results of this war.”
Rin bit her lip, closed her eyes tightly, and spun about on her heel to walk out with the quickest stride she could, flinging the door open, directly into the bailiff's waiting hand. She heard him call out to her as she hurried out of the great anteroom.
“Always a pleasure, Tohsaka-san.”
“Fuck you!”
--- --- --- --- ---
The lady of Tohsaka was not very ladylike with the chauffeur that met her by the curb. He considered himself lucky to escape with both hands still attached after attempting to take care of her luggage for her, and scampered around to climb into the driver's seat of the car. Rin slammed the trunk shut after carelessly throwing her bags in, then with equal carelessness threw herself into the curbside seat, finding herself on a soft cushion made of person.
Silence.
“Listen,” Rin said, not even bothering to look at the person beneath her buttocks. “My morning just turned very sour, so either you move, or the Church will need to send a new supervisor.”
“Ah, um, of course.”
That's a girl's voice. She wondered at that, conjuring up and just as quickly banishing the image of a female Kotomine. I don't need lunch anymore. The body squirmed its way out from under her slowly, and Rin glanced off to the side to study the emerging shape. She was a short, stocky young nun with a rounded face, violet eyes gleaming gently from under her brown brows. Her habit was everything Kotomine had once described, black, white and austere all over. The only thing apart from her face one could see where her neatly folded hands in her lap, and a small wooden cross hung from her neck on a piece of ragged twine. By all accounts she seemed harmless, and Rin found herself looking out the window to set the sudden guilt aside.
“What's your name?” Rin asked.
“Graziana Nucifora,” she replied. She paused, studying Rin, then seemed to remember something. “Ah, Japanese, right? I did a missionary stint there for five years, I hope my Japanese is still good enough”
Rin nodded slightly. “It is, though I have to admit I've never heard Japanese in an Italian accent.” The young magus turned to smile lightly when the girl let out a hearty laugh, charming in its lack of pretense, refreshing after the smugness of the lords. Suddenly, she felt less inclined to brood, and she shifted in her seat to face the nun. “So what do you know about the Holy Grail War?”
“Oh, as much as anyone, I suppose. Ah, I mean not anyone, but I've been taught my role well, I should think. The Church takes this all rather serious.”
“Mm.”
Silence again.
“Tohsaka Rin, is it?” the nun asked. “Is something bothering you?”
What a stupid question. “The fact that we're in this car, going to my home city to do what we're going to do.”
“But you've been in a war before, right? As a Master? Doesn't that mean you approve of it?”
Oh, true. “I used to, before I actually went through it.”
“I see. Well, I'll do my best to make sure things don't get too out of hand, but I'd appreciate your help if you're willing!” Graziana chuckled her good-natured chuckle again, but Rin simply looked back out the window and frowned.
You poor girl, you don't have a clue what you're getting into. For a moment, she almost wished Kotomine were still around. Though he was a bastard, his implacable “I see” response always gave one the sense that at least somebody was in control, a relief amidst the chaos that a Holy Grail War thrived on. She turned her thoughts inward, on the Einzbern letter, and they rode to Heathrow in silence.
Later, in the airport, the two young women waited for their flight, Rin lost in her thoughts until she heard an excited whisper from Graziana.
“Oh, the news is so exciting these days!” she said. Rin looked to her, then quickly turned her gaze upward to the ceiling-mounted television showing the global news. She recognized the familiar skyline of Tokyo, where helicopter cameras frantically followed the rushing form of a red-coated man with a sleek dark-gray helmet and a short sword in each hand. He kept pace with an armored car, deflecting bullets with the flat face of the black blade, and deftly threw the white with incredible strength, bursting one of the rear wheels.
“...footage captured earlier today shows the Japanese vigilante known as 'Mugen Ken' apprehending members of the Ikebukuro-based 'Red Fist', a notoriously violent gang known for its recent high-profile bank robberies...” Rin smiled as the BBC reporter described the event, her eyes glued to the scene as 'Mugen Ken' overtook the swerving, braking car. He turned to face it and sheathed his twin swords at his hips, reaching up the back of his coat and drawing out a monolithic black blade, holding it out in front of him. The car collided with the blade, pushed it back, pushed it back, but never broke it. After a brief skid, the car was completely still, the terrified gang members stumbling out, barely able to keep their feet.
“Isn't it just so thrilling? Just like a comic book!” Graziana said.
“Yeah, he's pretty amazing.” The heir of Tohsaka nodded, savoring the warm feeling in her heart.
“He gives me the shivers. If there's a man worth breaking a chastity oath for...”
Rin turned to face her with a look of abject terror and, without a word, stood up and walked off in search of the nearest bathroom.
“What's wrong Tohsaka? Tohsaka?”
Hmm, interesting....
So, Sakura is free, reconciled with Rin and treated in at least some sense as her 'equal'? I'm interested to see their relationship. Also, I like how they managed to press-gang Rin into allowing the war....
Quote:
Originally Posted by Moczo
Well... I'd say it depends on Shirou. Rain is a Sakura/Rin story, and Kotomine was important because he was a perfect opposite to Shirou. So I'd say it's cut-able unless you're going to be focused extensively on Shirou's development too, alongside the main plotline. And even then, it depends on how close you want his development to be to what it was in HF, I guess.
Yeah, I'd say it could probably go, if necessary. And, I can certainly see why it would be necessary....
Quote:
Originally Posted by RadiantBeam
Well, the daddy issues are probably going to be touched on the most since by deciding to save Sakura, Rin is outright defying/contradicting the ideal and beliefs her father left behind for her when he died. So that's definitely one weakness Kotomine will take great pleasure out of trolling.
Yeah, definitely. Kotomine will dig hard at her relationship with Sakura and her father. He never gets much chance in HF, because she never openly cared for Sakura, whereas here he can troll her hard.
Just a teensy little semi-update/announcement for Rain, because I feel like it. After a bit of debate, next chapter is going to be a breather chapter before I plunge back into the main story of HF. Originally I wanted to go straight into the story, but now I think it's better to really give the characters a chance to adjust and think about what happened in chapter 3.
“Grandfather, are you sure about this?” the purple haired girl questioned.
The person being questioned, a person so creepy looking one could mistake him for a zombie, chided. “Hush, young one. You dare to doubt the judgment of your elder?”
If it had been any other girl, she would have shrieked in terror at the old man’s gaze. But Sakura had suffered worse under him, becoming so conditioned to horror that almost nothing would faze her.
“No, of course not. But I was under the impression that nii-chan was the one to be a Master. He seemed so adamant about it.”
Zouken Matou chuckled at her reply.
“The incompetent fool just couldn’t accept the worthlessness of his self. Someone who is void of magic potential cannot hope to summon a Servant. If I want, I can make some kind of artificial Command Spell for him and have him control your Servant, but I prefer to have my pawns operating with full potential.”
The girl, still unsure about the whole ordeal, added another point.
“But I thought you said that it was too early to summon a Servant? Only one of them has been summoned, right?”
She can be surprisingly perceptive for a human doormat, Zouken thought. Maybe I didn’t break her enough.
Truth to be told, Zouken didn’t intended to secretly participate this early. The war haven’t even started yet; the fallen priest of the Kotomine Church has yet to summon a new Servant, which the old man is sure to happen once the battle royale has officially began.
But the Einzberns had, for the lack of better word, cheated. Using their magically infused homunculi, a Servant of overwhelming power and skill has been summoned. The Matou patriarch has managed to indentify it as Heracles of the Twelve Labours, a legendary demigod from the Age of Myths renowned for his incredible strength and proficiency with weapons. With such a usable pawn in their grasp, it’s no wonder the Einzbern were so certain in victory.
It could be worst. Heracles has the potential to become any servant besides Caster and Assassin. At least by being a Berserker he wouldn’t be able to use most, if not all of his weapon-form Noble Phantasms. But because of this, Zouken had decided that he would rather try his luck hoping that by chance he would summon something useful instead of a leftover; trickery runs better with quality tools.
“Things have changed. Don’t worry about anything, for I will guide you not only for this summoning, but throughout the entire war.”
Zouken reached for his pocket, and slowly produced an item.
Through his sources, the wretch has managed to get his hand on a feather once belonging to an eagle that nested at the ancient fortress of Masyaf, once home to the infamous Hashashins. The man’s goal was clear: to summon the greatest assassin he can get to aid his shadowy schemes.
“This will be your catalyst. With it, you will have a better chance to summon a suitable Servant. Now, do as I’ve taught you and begin the ritual.”
Sakura sighed. Deep inside, she still wished to not be involved in this whole affair. It’s not that she was afraid of what Shinji would do to her once he knew, since it would in the end come to one thing, and she’s already used to it. No, she just hate the idea of being part of a conflict that bears no meaning to her.
But as the soft-spoken girl has learned through her years as a Matou, resisting the patriarch was useless. Better to just go on and be done with this ritual as soon as possible.
“Yes, grandfather.” The girl stepped near a summoning circle that has been prepared beforehand and found it to suddenly glow.
"I call upon thee, the Holy Grail." Sakura whispered. "Hear me; for I ask be granted for me, a mighty Servant."
The surrounding air began to swirl, forming a wind that rotates around her.
Nine lives in exchange for my own.
What was that? Just now, Sakura could’ve sworn that she heard something, a voice of a person. It’s as if the person talked in a foreign tongue, with a language that she wasn’t familiar with, yet she could somehow understood its meaning. But it didn’t feel as if the person spoke to her, more like as if she’s eavesdropping.
"I call upon from the greatest Heroes of mankind. Give me the right of Master over one champion, and grant me their strengths.”
Lightning-like sparks ignited around her, following the wind current for a while before being condensed in to the center of the circle.
It matters not how we complete our task... only that it's done.
There it was again. A male voice. Who?
"I...Sakura Matou...command it!"
Sakura could felt the gust of magic power as it was sucked into the summoning circle, which glow incredibly bright for a second before its light dimmed.
Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.
Something materialized from the circle, moving upwards and adding more shape. After a moment, the purple haired girl realized that it’s a person.
Both Matous thoroughly observed the man. He was wearing a black costume, his head covered by a hood with a shape somewhat reminiscent to the head of an eagle. The cloak that was seemingly part of his armor were made up of three layers; each layer was longer than the one above it, with the middle layer being the only one with red as its color, and the longest, lowest layer was segmented, giving the whole piece a look that resembled eagle’s wings.
“Servant Hashashin. By your summoning I have come to participate in the war. My blades are at your disposal, and your wish is my command. And so I ask you, are you my master?”
Sakura was so dumbfounded by the sight of the tall figure in front of her, she only realized after a while that she was the one being addressed.
“E-ehm, yes, yes I am. My name is Sakura Matou, and I will be your master for this war.”
“I see. And who is this person besides you?”
Uh oh. Sakura didn’t know what to say. “Grandfather, can you explain it to him?”
The old creep didn’t immediately answer; he was still busy analyzing the servant, whose appearance puzzled him mainly by the fact on how different he was compared to previous Holy Grail War Assassins. His clothes were not entirely black, he has a sword, and he wore no mask. On the other hand, he was also equipped with a set of throwing knives, which was also utilized by previous contestants of his class. And the old man was interested with two things: one is his left arm, whose hand lacked a finger and seemed to emit an aura of certain death, while the other is a small orb attached to his belt, from which Zouken could feel the presence of exotic magic similar to none of those of his knowledge.
Not bad. Not a certain-victory material, but somewhat promising.
“Oh, please forgive this old man for forgetting his manners. I am her advisor. As you can see, she’s a bit young, so she needs the aid of her seniors to win this brutal conflict.”
“Is this true, milady?“
“Eh? Oh, yes! Grandfather will guide me during the war. You can consider his orders as my own.” Sakura replied as he remembered the old man’s instructions.
The Servant paused for a while before letting a faint smile.
“As you wish. What is your bidding then?”
The older Matou let out a small laugh. “Ah, such eagerness! Let us not do battle now, we have yet to know all off our opponent. For now you can tell us about yourself; I assume telling your name would be useless due to how your kind thrived in secrecy, so you can brief us about your abilities instead. In the mean time, let us enjoy dinner.”
“Understood. Shall we go milady?”
“Ehm, Assassin-san, can you just call me ‘Sakura’? Calling me milady is a bit…”
“Hmm? Ah, I see, it would be suspicious if by some chance someone hears about it, small probability as it may; we must always prepare ourselves for the unexpected, afterall. Very well Sakura-san, in return you can call me…Al.”
“Al?”
“Yes. Just Al would be fine. Shall we go now, Sakura-san?”
“Of course.” Sakura could only hope that senpai would not know about this. Oh please, don’t let him be involved in this!
On the dining room, the head of Zouken Matou was already in full gear, busy designing a multitude of schemes with the Servant as one of its variables. The Assassin would be a fine complement for Sakura once her powers have truly matured. Looks like there would be a chance for victory this time. If only he realized that back then, the Servant has already activated a Noble Phantasm: Eagle Vision, a pair of Mystic Eyes that allowed the user to see the true intention of those within its sight and sense how people as well as objects relate to him.
And thus the Assassin, who had spent his entire life fighting evil from the shadows, decided that he already has at least one target to vanquish. Now to concoct a plan of his own.
“Grandfather, are you sure about this?” the purple haired girl questioned.
The person being questioned, a person so creepy looking one could mistake him for a zombie, chided. “Hush, young one. You dare to doubt the judgment of your elder?”
If it had been any other girl, she would have shrieked in terror at the old man’s gaze. But Sakura had suffered worse under him, becoming so conditioned to horror that almost nothing would faze her.
“No, of course not. But I was under the impression that nii-chan was the one to be a Master. He seemed so adamant about it.”
Zouken Matou chuckled at her reply.
“The incompetent fool just couldn’t accept the worthlessness of his self. Someone who is void of magic potential cannot hope to summon a Servant. If I want, I can make some kind of artificial Command Spell for him and have him control your Servant, but I prefer to have my pawns operating with full potential.”
The girl, still unsure about the whole ordeal, added another point.
“But I thought you said that it was too early to summon a Servant? Only one of them has been summoned, right?”
She can be surprisingly perceptive for a human doormat, Zouken thought. Maybe I didn’t break her enough.
Truth to be told, Zouken didn’t intended to secretly participate this early. The war haven’t even started yet; the fallen priest of the Kotomine Church has yet to summon a new Servant, which the old man is sure to happen once the battle royale has officially began.
But the Einzberns had, for the lack of better word, cheated. Using their magically infused homunculi, a Servant of overwhelming power and skill has been summoned. The Matou patriarch has managed to indentify it as Heracles of the Twelve Labours, a legendary demigod from the Age of Myths renowned for his incredible strength and proficiency with weapons. With such a usable pawn in their grasp, it’s no wonder the Einzbern were so certain in victory.
It could be worst. Heracles has the potential to become any servant besides Caster and Assassin. At least by being a Berserker he wouldn’t be able to use most, if not all of his weapon-form Noble Phantasms. But because of this, Zouken had decided that he would rather try his luck hoping that by chance he would summon something useful instead of a leftover; trickery runs better with quality tools.
“Things have changed. Don’t worry about anything, for I will guide you not only for this summoning, but throughout the entire war.”
Zouken reached for his pocket, and slowly produced an item.
Through his sources, the wretch has managed to get his hand on a feather once belonging to an eagle that nested at the ancient fortress of Masyaf, once home to the infamous Hashashins. The man’s goal was clear: to summon the greatest assassin he can get to aid his shadowy schemes.
“This will be your catalyst. With it, you will have a better chance to summon a suitable Servant. Now, do as I’ve taught you and begin the ritual.”
Sakura sighed. Deep inside, she still wished to not be involved in this whole affair. It’s not that she was afraid of what Shinji would do to her once he knew, since it would in the end come to one thing, and she’s already used to it. No, she just hate the idea of being part of a conflict that bears no meaning to her.
But as the soft-spoken girl has learned through her years as a Matou, resisting the patriarch was useless. Better to just go on and be done with this ritual as soon as possible.
“Yes, grandfather.” The girl stepped near a summoning circle that has been prepared beforehand and found it to suddenly glow.
"I call upon thee, the Holy Grail." Sakura whispered. "Hear me; for I ask be granted for me, a mighty Servant."
The surrounding air began to swirl, forming a wind that rotates around her.
Nine lives in exchange for my own.
What was that? Just now, Sakura could’ve sworn that she heard something, a voice of a person. It’s as if the person talked in a foreign tongue, with a language that she wasn’t familiar with, yet she could somehow understood its meaning. But it didn’t feel as if the person spoke to her, more like as if she’s eavesdropping.
"I call upon from the greatest Heroes of mankind. Give me the right of Master over one champion, and grant me their strengths.”
Lightning-like sparks ignited around her, following the wind current for a while before being condensed in to the center of the circle.
It matters not how we complete our task... only that it's done.
There it was again. A male voice. Who?
"I...Sakura Matou...command it!"
Sakura could felt the gust of magic power as it was sucked into the summoning circle, which glow incredibly bright for a second before its light dimmed.
Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.
Something materialized from the circle, moving upwards and adding more shape. After a moment, the purple haired girl realized that it’s a person.
Both Matous thoroughly observed the man. He was wearing a black costume, his head covered by a hood with a shape somewhat reminiscent to the head of an eagle. The cloak that was seemingly part of his armor were made up of three layers; each layer was longer than the one above it, with the middle layer being the only one with red as its color, and the longest, lowest layer was segmented, giving the whole piece a look that resembled eagle’s wings.
“Servant Hashashin. By your summoning I have come to participate in the war. My blades are at your disposal, and your wish is my command. And so I ask you, are you my master?”
Sakura was so dumbfounded by the sight of the tall figure in front of her, she only realized after a while that she was the one being addressed.
“E-ehm, yes, yes I am. My name is Sakura Matou, and I will be your master for this war.”
“I see. And who is this person besides you?”
Uh oh. Sakura didn’t know what to say. “Grandfather, can you explain it to him?”
The old creep didn’t immediately answer; he was still busy analyzing the servant, whose appearance puzzled him mainly by the fact on how different he was compared to previous Holy Grail War Assassins. His clothes were not entirely black, he has a sword, and he wore no mask. On the other hand, he was also equipped with a set of throwing knives, which was also utilized by previous contestants of his class. And the old man was interested with two things: one is his left arm, whose hand lacked a finger and seemed to emit an aura of certain death, while the other is a small orb attached to his belt, from which Zouken could feel the presence of exotic magic similar to none of those of his knowledge.
Not bad. Not a certain-victory material, but somewhat promising.
“Oh, please forgive this old man for forgetting his manners. I am her advisor. As you can see, she’s a bit young, so she needs the aid of her seniors to win this brutal conflict.”
“Is this true, milady?“
“Eh? Oh, yes! Grandfather will guide me during the war. You can consider his orders as my own.” Sakura replied as he remembered the old man’s instructions.
The Servant paused for a while before letting a faint smile.
“As you wish. What is your bidding then?”
The older Matou let out a small laugh. “Ah, such eagerness! Let us not do battle now, we have yet to know all off our opponent. For now you can tell us about yourself; I assume telling your name would be useless due to how your kind thrived in secrecy, so you can brief us about your abilities instead. In the mean time, let us enjoy dinner.”
“Understood. Shall we go milady?”
“Ehm, Assassin-san, can you just call me ‘Sakura’? Calling me milady is a bit…”
“Hmm? Ah, I see, it would be suspicious if by some chance someone hears about it, small probability as it may; we must always prepare ourselves for the unexpected, afterall. Very well Sakura-san, in return you can call me…Al.”
“Al?”
“Yes. Just Al would be fine. Shall we go now, Sakura-san?”
“Of course.” Sakura could only hope that senpai would not know about this. Oh please, don’t let him be involved in this!
On the dining room, the head of Zouken Matou was already in full gear, busy designing a multitude of schemes with the Servant as one of its variables. The Assassin would be a fine complement for Sakura once her powers have truly matured. Looks like there would be a chance for victory this time. If only he realized that back then, the Servant has already activated a Noble Phantasm: Eagle Vision, a pair of Mystic Eyes that allowed the user to see the true intention of those within its sight and sense how people as well as objects relate to him.
And thus the Assassin, who had spent his entire life fighting evil from the shadows, decided that he already has at least one target to vanquish. Now to concoct a plan of his own.
I agree it's really good Rate it if it gets enough rate it will be turn into a real fanfiction though it already sounds like a first chapter
Exactly what I have in mind.
So Tiresias, can you continue this? Pretty please I don't play assasin's creed but from what I know it will be really cool to see Altair messing up with other servants
2010-10-24, 09:32
[/rant]
Author
I don't play assasin's creed but from what I know it will be really cool to see Altair messing up with other servants 
