[center][h3][color=6ecff6]Boston[/color] Park Plaza[/h3][/center]

Dully, Luna nodded back, following his lead without much more input of her own as Otto promptly removed himself from the situation. Not a great first impression, he figured... But she had no desire to cross paths with Otto von Habsburg again. Her instructions had been clear, avoid the war, let the Servant hash things out with all the evil people they did nothing but rant about. Her stomach slowly began to untie as she realized with certainty that he wasn't going to be coming back in. It was just too awkward to sit at the bar after that, she found herself cruising the lobby without aim. Fireworks blared in the distance, some festival she had no clue about, he decided. Wasn't really a party city, but they found ways, and there were plenty of people who just had their next big ball canceled, so, it made sense. Police cars, lights on, rolled by outside. Another daily sight in the city. Perhaps to another one of those strange murders.

Her phone rang. The odd thing was hearing it ring instead of vibrate for the first time in years. The lobby filled with ringing, various tones forming an otherworldly screeching drone. The televisions hung in chic fixtures flickered way from sports and talking heads to flat tone backgrounds, scrolling white text, and their own ear grating siren. Luna looked down at her phone, fingers clenched across the screen.

[b]MEMA EAS - URGENT SHELTER IN PLACE issued for SUFFOLK COUNTY, MA[/b]

[i][b]Assassin?[/b][/i]

White noise flooded her senses. She felt herself stagger downwards, the soft rush of something cushioned catching her. The feedback scorched her thoughts away, the sudden pull on her body felt like it would shrivel her to ash. Hoarse screams, the roll of thunder, the splatter of rain. Darkness. She cupped her hand across her Command Seal.

[right][h3]Mirage [color=6ecff6]Umbral[/color] Waltz/[color=6ecff6]Clear[/color][/h3][/right]

[center][h3]Franz Burine [color=6ecff6]Plaza[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][@LukasVolkov] [@King Cosmos] [@ERode] [@DrowsyPangolin] [@Reflection][/center]

Negative effect on target. Well, she was working on a budget. If a handgun could solve all the world's problems the wraith would not have been called there. Stoic in their rage, their solo eye did not peel away from Berserker as the pawns turned to focus their fire on her. [i]Anywhere but the crowd[/i]. The Berserker even poised himself to follow. She would welcome close combat, lips soundlessly moving to voice the name- Then everything went wrong. Silver bolts poured in from their surroundings, smokeless trajectories lining back to the rooftops. Not the attacks of the Archer from before... but a second? The tug on her soul meant that a Servant had arrived. Two Servants. One yet to come into sight, but even as they fell through chaos the warlike mind of the Assassin Servant churned through information. Before the first volley struck the Berserker from his pose, that single, hungry eye locked with the eyes of the blue haired Servant perched far above. [i]Vultures[/i]. Come to make spectacle of the carnage. Servants summoned to claim the Grail, to indulge war. When would those bows turn on her?

An explosion of movement called her focus away, tangled vines and bloodspray springing into her peripheral vision. Bullets pelted the surrounding furniture as she flopped to the floor. She grimaced under her mask as a mass of viciously barbed vines rose up over the sill, batting glass away with reflexive twitches towards contact and carrying chunks of mutilated flesh along their sinuous lengths. The vines lashed out at Assassin and she rolled backwards over her shoulders, scrambling to a crouch only to find her feet pulled out from underneath her. Supernatural strength tugged at her ankle, more Grasper vines seeking a tighter hold as already she felt a row of injections along her skin. The response was nearly instantaneous. The hand at her belt slid upwards, magazine run home as her thumb tapped the slide release. She shot through the vine at her ankle and turned. Numbness had already shot through her leg, sagging the feeling from her limbs. She wouldn't let it show. Vines coiled around her arms, lashing out at the tattered tails of her coat. It sheared away, a single black cable running from the ragged infantry coat to her fist. 

The last tug free of her garment spun her around, turning her to the passing Rider. The other Servant, atop a white horse, what else? Glimmering and gold, refined and untouchable where they strode. The moment was brief, the musket in their hands smoking as they spared a glance down to the trapped and wretched Wraith. A shoddy sight scowled back at Rider, face hidden beneath a mask and eyepatch, her coat mostly torn away to reveal a body of shadowy bandages and dated looking field harnesses. A step back and a swift jerk of her hand to her side was enough to pull the trigger. Metal clunked together as the OSS issued firing device lit the fuses of the grenades bundled in the Assassin's coat. A cluster of incendiary devices roared to life. Glittering shards of white phosphorus formed a blazing star beneath the Graspers, white vapor briefly burning hot enough to melt iron expanding into a majestic puff of toxic, snowy death. The Rider and the Assassin disappeared to one another in the cloud.

Dazzling fragments drifted in the air around her, burning out in a harmlessly small radius around the event as Assassin ran from the windows, streaking between pillars and rows of soft couches as the gunmen still inside the hotel kept up their barrage, but cared only for the one man without a gun. She felt no trail to the Servant outside, but his hand unmistakably glowed with the sign of a Master. Her body burned, not from the heated air but from the venom flowing through it. The tip of the vine that got her still wriggled around her calf, gouting its paralytic into her bloodstream. Stopping cost lives. Magic flowed around the Assassin, but the minor disturbance of her weak Noble Phantasm being activated immediately felt overshadowed by the pulse which rippled through the lobby's air. A ripple in space along the ceiling. She had only an instant to process the effect before a spear barreled from the sky towards her face. A blue shimmer flickered across her hands, and as she held her hands above her head an enormous slab of steel landed in them. Wheels adorned its bottom, spinning uselessly in the air. The reinforced window immediately caught the spear tip, splintering the screen but holding it fast. Twenty seven holes dotted its front face, ceramic and kevlar long since cleansed of storied blood. Too unwieldy to use as a shield in the ordinary sense, the Assassin hefted the black plate over her, angled forward. Bullets bounced from its surface, as did helmets and sheets of mail and daggers and swords. Her arms bowed with the impacts, but she was then singular in her purpose. With all the agility her poisoned body could still muster she leapt from table to table, skipping over couches to charge Katherine's proxy Master. Finally their boot came down on the floor with intent. Her whole body pitched forward, grip shifting across the hand-holds to hurl the giant shield, embedded weapons and all, straight for the face of that wretched Master. Assassin's back bowed, an axe scraping beside her spine as soon as her guard was lowered, more to follow, more bullets to find their mark. Her form could accept such damage. The lives depending on her were not so fortunate.

[center][h3]A Baseball [color=6ecff6]Park[/color]
Intermittent Homicidal Disorder[/h3][/center]
[center][@DrowsyPangolin] [@Demonic Face] [@Ever Green] [@USS Iowa][/center]

Chain link fence, artificial grass, graffiti. They'd found themselves at a low rent baseball diamond. The light of day was far gone by the time the teams stalked one another to the field, the pink haired reveler yoking their squadron along as the shadowed car of Team Saber followed. An eerie silence fell across the evening as the two teams chatted, the cheerful voice of the Lancer screeching over the quiet of night as Saber's master fortified himself with a cigarette and a quick check of his weapon. 

“Well, let’s take a look. Doubt they’ve got a ball game planned.”

As his hand would reach for the door, as his eyes would gaze out into the dark, Rocco Moretti came face to face with ߆ߺߕo߃ߊߓ߂ ߚ߇ߝߋߚ ߙ߂߆߆ ߢf ߸߮ߐ ߹߁ ߮ߎ߉ߌߺߣ߇. Fragments scratched across pitch dark outside of the car window, voided resentment swallowing the sight of the world beyond that arm's grasp. Pieces of faces swam in the inky soup, the only movement allowed in one reality gripping instant. They sunk, jaws fading away, ears shutting into nothing. Bubbles boiled across its flat face as it pressed into the window, swelling to cover the entire pane of glass.

The dark flared with daylight, white and red streaking through the featureless flesh before the glass exploded inwards. A shrill cry filled the air, more a painful ring that came with a sudden increase in the environmental pressure than an actual discernible [i]noise[/i]. The car was launched onto its side, ruptured left side raised towards the heaven. Cubes of safety glass rained through the cabin, Saber's side also bursting as the curb grew deeply acquainted with the car door.

The scent of night spilled in. Furnaces cooking in the distance, grease and oil... Copper, blood, the scent of a monster. The scent that summoned monsters. Rotten, acrid, stupefying. The baseball diamond disappeared from view, the front window pointed helplessly down the road and suddenly locked into portrait orientation. Pedestrians stood frozen in place down the road. Hoodlums squatting by the alleyside, frozen with their heads and empty eyes turned upon the car. A man unlocking his front door, hand still wrapped around the barred door added on, preoccupied with staring at the accident in progress. A man on motorbike, tipped over and not caring for his pinned leg as his tinted visor tracked them rolling into the sidewalk.

A long, tar colored arm wrapped the front of the car, slithering like a serpent across the hood and down to the road surface where fingers unfolded from its limb, fanning across the broken glass, flicking some chunks around before pulling one prism in particular from the mound. The arm attached to the hand began to pivot around it, the car shaking as a glimpse of the creature's hulking body showed through the sky-facing windows. It climbed surprisingly fast, its observable form simply a tangle of arms. A few shorter arms clung to the broken-in window, dangling into the cabin harmlessly before, with a wet plop, it crashed to the ground. Dozens of handprints pressed into the shape of the roof as the black looking glass of its 'face' angled into the space of the front window. Red sparks flared in the depths, an imprint of a closed eye swelling with motion underneath its lid, dancing back and forth from Master to Servant. Deep, vibrating clicks resounded within it, the hum of a contemplating giant.