[h1]Team Rider[/h1] [h2]June 22nd, 2021 3:16AM[/h2] [h2]Winter Palace Food Truck[/h2] A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Outside, only the wildest weekend partiers were still at it, but inside, the food truck was flooded with blue light as usual, Naoko staking her beauty sleep on getting this done. It had been on a whim, really, to summon her Servant that night. It wasn’t like she had anything that could be considered a proper catalyst, and it wasn’t like she NEEDED her Servant immediately, despite the nebulous start date of this Holy Grail War. No, it was nothing more than a whim, and there she was, mixing materials and tossing them on the floor with the casual reverence of someone who threw salt over their shoulder. Some dust, some ashes, some flour. Add in a smidge of salt, a dabbing of sugar, and spread it all evenly. Dip your hand in cold water and scatter the droplets, before sweeping a perfect circle with your bare foot. One part of it was carelessness. Another part of it was whimsy. She held her ‘cookbook’ in one hand and took particle ingredients with her other hand, aware of the positioning of every spice in her kitchen. And, when that grand mess was made, the words she spoke were of similar nonsense, nothing like the revered incantation that the documents of the Grail War spoke of. The power of language superseded the sounds they were composed of, and served simply to guide meaning. When the language of magic could be imposed regardless whether it was Japanese, English, Latin, or anything else, it simply made sense that she could get away with a looping, sing-song ‘lata lulila lulula lilula ta, lyrr viva tou ro tono’. Did it? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t here to win, only to live to see what happens after. And, in a shuttered food truck of an auspicious name, with a dispassionate heart and vagarious formulations, the woman with cherry blossom hued hair evoked the meaning of power and control to draw out a being from a higher dimension, a baser dimension. --- The food truck shivered for a moment, the blue lights rapidly flickering as the circle was traced in a pale silver glow. Another shudder, another temporary loss of electricity, and the circle flashed a brilliant crimson. The temperature within the food truck began to decline rapidly, as if the circle were sucking all the warmth from the room, its glow becoming brighter and brighter. The shivering grew more violent, the suspension crying out in complaint as spice bottles fell from their places and onto the floor. Amidst the chaos, the sound of rushing wind began ripping around the inside of the poor, abused food truck. All at once, both the shaking and the sound of wind came to an immediate halt. An uncomfortable silence fell over the venerable food truck, the temperature inside dropping low enough to see one’s breath as the summoning circle changed from red to a pale blue. The silence continued… And continued… And continued… And contin- The sound of trumpets rising into a boisterous crescendo blared in the confined space, and the circle exploded into a blinding violet light, rocking the poor, poor food truck one final time. As the cacophony of the trumpets abated, it was replaced by a chorus of (perhaps overly) enthusiastic laughter from the center of the circle. From the fading light, a petite figure materialized. Silver eyes flashed towards Naoko, ruby lips curling into an amused smile. The Servant wore a flowing dress of deep purple, with tiny gems glinting from amongst the fabric like stars. A crown, embedded with countless glittering gemstones, rested atop to woman’s head. She swept her chestnut hair away from her face in a dramatic flourish, her diamonds shimmering. “I am Yekaterina Alekseyevna!” A theatrical hand motion accented the proclamation. “Her Imperial Highness, The Empress and Autocrat of all Russians!” Another. “I have been summoned into this era as a Cas-... wait no.” The bejeweled woman briefly turned her back to Naoko as if to collect her thoughts. For a moment she mumbled to herself. “Rider, really? I suppose that’s fine, but it seems a bit… ineffective… NEVERTHELESS!” The Servant spun around on a heel, leveling her index finger toward the white-haired girl. “I have been summoned into this era as a RIDER class Servant!” “AM I” The finger swung through the air as Rider took a step forward. “TO ASSUME” Another dramatic motion of the arm and another step forward. “THAT YOUUUUUU” The finger stopped about an inch from Naoko’s nose. “ARE MY MASTER?!” Rider smiled, overflowing with pride at her introduction. “Hmm? Well?” -- The first thing Naoko did when everything started going full magical was to pop in her AirPods. The noise cancelling capabilities may not have been enough to save her precious eardrums from the sheer volume of trumpeting (off in the distance, she could almost swear that someone was yelling at the truck to shut the fuck up), but that was fine. At the very least, there was no tornado of force that would burst out from the circle and scatter this particular mess all over her truck. And it was even a plus that she didn’t end up getting shanked by some psychopathic murder-stabby Servant. Pride was downfall, but at least Empresses were pleasing to the eye. With that long finger jabbed an inch away from her nose, the food truck owner did what any reasonable 21st century person would do in such a situation. She leaned forward slightly and licked the gloved tip of Yekaterina Alekseyevna’s finger, before retracting again, a sweet smile spilling over her features. Flashing two V-signs pointed at her dimpled cheeks, before she proclaimed, with less bombast but just as much feeling, “Yup, that’s me! Naoko Busi- bleh, Bushiro, super nice to meet you, Your Majesty. Mind if I call you Rina or something? Rider’s a bit obvious, after all.” -- Rider raised an eyebrow as her new Master licked her glove, but giggled after a moment. “Ohoho… A pleasure to meet you Naoko.” She looked perplexed for a moment at the question of nicknames, bringing her hand to her chin. “Hmm… hmm…” Catherine crossed her arms, nodding as if she had reached some grand conclusion. “As an Empress, I am partial to ‘Your Majesty’... but you are my Master, so I’m willing to make an exception… but only for you! I will not tolerate disrespect from the others!” Once again, Rider felt the need to bookend her statement with a dramatic hand flourish. “As for a nickname, however… I think I would prefer Cat… or if you prefer to maintain some secrecy… I suppose you could even call me Sophie? That was my name once.” Catherine’s eyes drifted around the food truck, noting the scattered spices. “With our pact being settled, Naoko, would you mind explaining where exactly we are? This seems an… odd choice of residence.” The empress began walking around the food truck, inspecting the contents of a few spice canisters. -- “Cat…” Naoko rolled that over in her mind, then shook her head. “No, I’ll go with Sophie then, Sophie. Feel free to call me whatever you want as well. I might be the Master, but you’re still the Empress, yeah?” As the brunette’s attention drifted away from her and back to the surroundings, however, Naoko got out her own brush and broom, opting to get some cleaning done now that the chaotic ‘summoning circle’ was no longer required. A couple of light words caused portions of the dust to sift into the pan, while more natural ingredients were swept up handily with a broom. “It’s my food truck,” the girl replied as she cleaned, “The Winter Palace, Boston’s one-stop shop for season-aware, locally-sourced sweet and savory desserts. Dunno how much you know about the era you’re currently in, but it’s like...imagine a carriage that holds a kitchen that you drive around town to sell your stuff to people.” She nodded at that, humming a tune on the minor scale to add some rhythm to her work. “And don’t touch that one, Your Majesty. I’m still a mage after all, so, you know...not every canister’s something you’d normally want to eat.” -- “Yes, yes. Sophie will be fine, nostalgic even.” Catherine nodded, smiling. The mention of the food truck’s name, however, caused her to freeze for a moment, her lips trembling for a moment before she erupted with laughter. “That is glorious!” She leaned against the wall to contain herself. “The Winter Palace… well Naoko, you should treat it kindly!” The Empress patted the counter. “I’m fairly certain your food truck was what brought me to you. The grail must’ve known I’d feel right at home in the Winter Palace.” Catherine giggled to herself a bit longer until her Master mentioned the contents of the canister she was holding. Rider turned it over a few times in her hands before giving it a slight sniff and frowning. She placed the canister back in its place, dusting her hands off. “Indeed… I’d hate to think of someone eating… that.” As Naoko finished cleaning the interior of the food truck, Rider stepped toward the front of the vehicle. “Well then, if this kitchen can move, let us see this city! I am excited to judge what the Americans have managed over the years. This nation was in its infancy during my time, though I had a great deal of interest in how their little experiment would fare… certainly more than what happened in France.” Rider grimaced at the last bit. “But come, come, let me see this modern era.” -- “Oh yeah,” Naoko laughed, as she gathered up the remains of the circle and dumped it into the compost bin, “America’s gone superpower since. Basically all the world’s smart people go here now, instead of like, say, the UK.” There was a slight pause, and then, the woman flashed a mischievous grin. IDs could be faked easily, and she knew at least a couple places that must still be packed. “Pretty late at night, so there isn’t much to see, but hey, Sophie, wanna go clubbing?” -- “Hmm… impressive, I suppose. I can’t say I’m surprised about Britain’s fall from grace, though.” The Empress smirked. “...though the Americans can thank me for the League of Armed Neutrality.” Catherine’s eyebrow raised at the mention of clubbing. “Clubbing? Is that a pastime in this country? That seems a rather peculiar hobb- Oh, OH. You mean dancing, then…” Rider’s expression mimicked her Master’s. “Absolutely.” The Servant glanced down at her attire for a moment, frowning momentarily until her eyes lit up with sudden realization. “Master, do you have a… um…” Catherine tapped the palm of her hand. “A… smart…. phone?” Catherine nodded, deciphering a bit of the modern knowledge the Grail had provided. “And could I borrow it for a moment on our way?” A confident smile crossed the Empress’ lips as the machinations came together in her mind. -- “Think fast,” Naoko replied, practically flinging her phone at the Servant. There was no doubt that Sophie [i]wouldn’t[/i] be able to catch it, after all, and in the 1% chance that Rider’s reflexes were indeed that bad, it’d certainly be a memory to laugh about in the future. While the empress did what she wanted with humanity’s most brilliant gem, Naoko bounced into the driver’s seat. To start with, Peacock sounded suitable. The truck guttered a couple of times in agony before chugging along the vacant streets, heading to the deeper parts of downtown. -- Rider snatched the phone from the air, her face lighting up as she rapidly tapped at the screen, nodding every few seconds. As she rapidly scrolled, searching for some treasure hidden deep in the depths of the internet, she spoke up. “What sort of club is that we’re going to, Naoko?” The devious smile returned. “I’d hate to be… overdressed.” A light flashed from the back of the food truck. “That being said, does this seem alright?” Rider took a seat in the passenger seat, grinning. Her glittering royal dress was gone, replaced with the fruits of her searching. In place of the crown, a black snapback with a Supreme logo emblazoned across its front. The dress had been traded for a black crop top, a short black skirt, and a matching fur coat that looked as though it might be worth thousands. The outfit, of course, was topped off with a pair of Gucci sunglasses, night be damned. -- Naoko glanced at Sophie from the rearview mirror and laughed, before hitting the accelerator. “More than enough,” she responded cheerily. “Guess I’ll have to spend most of the time ensuring the rubes aren’t slobbering all over you, Your Majesty.” She wasn’t planning on changing much about her own outfit anyways, so serving as pseudo-wingman and bodyguard for the richly dressed brunette was perfectly fine with her. As an afterthought, Naoko tossed a black card at the Servant as well. “If things go as expected, I probably won’t even have to worry about next month’s payment. Use that as you wish.” -- “Oh it wouldn’t be the first time, but I do appreciate the support, Naoko.” She watched as the lights of the city passed by them. “And if you’d like anything to wear I can certainly provide it. Being a Servant has its perks.” She giggled, glancing over at her Master, a faint glow emanating from her hands. “Although I doubt the Grail intended for my powers to be used for instant makeovers, it’s certainly a possibility.” The black card sailed through the air, landing neatly in between Catherine’s fingers. “Thank you Master. Should we need more funds, I have some ideas… other uses of abilities the Grail probably didn’t intend.” A prideful grin cut across Rider’s face. -- “Hm,” Naoko tilted her head, giving it some thought. “Naw. Sometimes, you just wanna go berserk without worrying about spilling your martini on your dress, you know? Feels like one of those days for me. And who cares what the Grail thinks? Objects don’t get rights!” With a dangerous swerve, Naoko managed a pinpoint parallel parking maneveur before hopping out of the truck. Compared to all the Audis and Teslas polluting the free parking space, the cheery decals of The Winter Palace was hardly appropriate, but being appropriate never fit her devil-may-care attitude to begin with. Grabbing her cane and an unmarked pouch, the food truck owner swung open the door and greeted her Servant with a cheesy grin, cocking her head towards the door of a truly underground club that pulsed with deep electronics. “Don’t suppose your gifts from the Grail involve a self-rolling red carpet?” -- “I fully understand! There are many ways to enjoy a party!” Rider laughed loudly at Naoko’s observations on the Grail as The Winter Palace swerved into place. “You drive nearly as bravely as I do, Master!” Catherine stepped out of the truck gracefully, a portrait of elegance. “Hmm… not quite, which is quite unfortunate now that you mention it. I could set off some fireworks though! Or perhaps we could ride in on white horses?” Rider giggled, gliding towards the entrance. “Or would that be too passe?” -- “A bit extra, yeah,” Naoko grinned. “Maybe in the future.” Passing by the bouncer was easy enough, at least. Even without ID, a couple bills shoved in the bald man’s hands was enough to get the mismatched pair into the throbbing heart of Peacock Night Club. It was an underground establishment with a grungy decor and poor ventilation, but the almost- intoxicating fumes of sweat, perfume, and alcohol made it a delight in its own way. Halfway down the stairs to the main dancefloor, Naoko could already feel the thick and heavy bass drop down in her stomach, while strobe lights turned the crowd into a writhing mass of bodies. There were a few fans installed, more to offer circulation than any real respite from the moist warmth, and LEDs attached to them created circles of light. The DJ, wearing the head of a giant, pink cat-bear mascot, did his part to liven up the party on top of a raised platform, while the building itself seemed to shake from the collective jumping of the dance mob. With a sideways glance, she checked out Sophie’s own expression, wondering what her thoughts were of this unrestrained debauchery. -- Rider’s lips curled into a wide smile at the spectacle that was unfolding noisily around her, the flashing lights glinting off of her shades. “Positively brilliant.” The Empress clapped her hands together excitedly, bouncing in time with the music. “Debased. Dirty. Pulsing with all things sinful… but it looks like such fun!” Catherine took a step toward the dancing mob, twirling back around in delight and waving for Naoko to follow her onto the dance floor. “Well, I believe it’s time we joined in, don’t you agree?” As she found her way in amongst the dancers, she began to think that this modern era would suit her just fine. -- With a laugh, Naoko scattered caution to the wind and joined her Servant, drinking in the hypnotic beat. Sipping on expensive drinks and hip-checking cybergoths, they cavorted around the dirtied dancefloor, shouting their lungs out to be heard. More than a couple times, Naoko had to kneecap someone who was a little too drunk to be breathing on Sophie, and more than a couple times, Sophie ended up enticing them regardless. It was a wild affair, a sordid affair, filled to the brim with chaotic energy, and as the hands on the clock ticked by, the club became quieter and quieter, drained of the frenetic energy it once had, until finally, there was only a beauty and a beat. Letting out a long breath, Naoko leaned against the brick-and-mortar wall, nursing an iced water. Her cheeks were flushed and her breath was shallow, but more than that, her smile was infectious and sharp, sugar sweet despite the dark, mind-numbing atmosphere. “Hey, Sophie,” she said, warm eyes gazing without focus upon the nightclub, “What do you think of me now?” -- Rider dove into the chaos of the Peacock with glee. The sights and sounds of modern exuberance washed over her, but despite how out of place she should’ve been, despite how alien it should have felt, she revelled in it. She drew attention, of course, as she always had. Eyes followed her, numerous drinks had been sent her way, and on at least one occasion a fight broke out between some of the more intoxicated of her admirers. It was as she had said before. The Peacock was the furthest thing from refinement, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the base spectacle. In fact, she was so caught up in the festivity of the night that she didn’t immediately notice as the room grew less and less lively. As the energy of the room finally breathed its last, Catherine walked to the bar, her outfit nonchalantly transforming into a long red dress as she walked, the sparks that glittered around her only scarcely discernible amongst the club lights that continued to flash rhythmically. Catherine stepped behind the bar, mixing herself a drink before she approached Naoko. The Servant took a careful sip as she joined her Master at the wall. A slight frown flickered across her face for a moment as she surveyed the room. Gradually, her eyes swept back around to Naoko. “Mmm, it’s as you said before… you are a Mage.” Rider took another sip of her drink. “And while the ways of Magi might not fit with the tastes of an Empress, they are not wholly alien to us either… especially when there’s a war to be fought.” The liquid swirled in Catherine’s glass. “I would say though, Master, that for the sake of the pact between us… it’d be best to fill me in on your plans.” The Servant spoke almost with a lecturing tone for her entire evaluation, halting in silence at the end to let her words hang in the air. After a few seconds though, she turned toward Naoko with a smile and a wink. “So where do we go from here, Naoko?” -- Naoko nodded, solemn for just a moment, before breaking out into a wide smile again. “Oh, if this is your jam, you’ll [i]love[/i] the next place.” [hr] [h1]Rider[/h1] [h2]Present Day! Present Time![/h2] [h2]Winter Palace Food Truck[/h2] The sunlight of the early afternoon shone down on the modest crowd that surrounded the Winter Palace. Rider beamed cheerfully, her fingers tapping enthusiastically at the cash register as customer after customer came through the line. She'd grown used to this already over the past few days. It was a strange occupation for an Empress to take up, certainly, but she had come to find it amusing in a quaint sort of way. Besides, the customers seemed to like her, which was always a plus. As another customer approached the truck, Catherine adjusted her apron, a bright blue affair with an overly ornate logo that she had created a few days before. Tying the draw strings tightly around her waist, she flashed a bright smile to her newest customers, a group of teenage boys who seemed to be part of some sort of sports team. "Hello and welcome to the Winter Palace! My name is Sophie! Is this your first time?" Rider spoke in a sweet, energetic voice that had proven quite effective at drawing people in. The enthusiastic hand motions that accompanied her greeting only sealed the deal. She was determined to be a symbol of perfection at her occupation, whether that be Empress or fast food employee. "Y-yeah, y'know, first time we'd ever noticed this place." The boy smiled nervously. Rider's lips curled into a wide grin. "Well then, you are in for a treat! If I might recommend something, the super strawberry crepe is a Winter Palace specialty! You won't find anything else like it in Boston!" "Sure, I'll get one of those then! And uh, and a drink... and... um.." Rider leaned forward, motioning toward the others. "And what for you all? You know, if you all get something, I can actually give you a discount! It will be more than worth it, I can promise you that!" The other boys nodded with varying levels of enthusiasm and began looking over the menu, gesturing toward items on the menu and mumbling their orders to the first boy. Finally, they finished. "R-right, so that'll be, uh three super strawberry crepes, and four large cokes, and um, the tuna ice cream?" Rider smiled weakly. Naoko had very interesting taste when it came to her menu. "Right then, well, with your discount, the total comes out at... twenty-two dollars and thirty-five cents!" The boy laughed nervously, pulling his wallet from his pocket. "Oh, and one more thing... could I get... your, uh... your number?" Catherine laughed politely, adjusting her apron. "I'm afraid I don't have a phone. But if you want to talk, you can always find me here at the Winter Palace! Plus you can get the discount for returning customers, isn't that right, Naoko?" Rider turned toward the back of the vehicle where her Master was preparing the order. She had taken to inventing discounts on a whim... it didn't really matter that they were a few cents at most.