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Student, RPer, videogame and anime fan, movie guy. Also memist, but that's par the course. In other words, your garden-variety nerd. Not much else to say, really.

Yeah, I'm a rather bogstandard individual, sue me.

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David Ríos

The winds buffeted against him, even with Lancer’s own aid. It was imposible to not feel the strength behind the blow, even if it hadn’t reached him, even if he was still alive and whole.

There was an jolt of fear. This is the sort of battle he would be facing from now on? It seemed ridiculous, it was ridiculous, and he wondered if he would be ready to deal with that sensation in the coming days. He gulped, feeling like he had been dunked into cold water, as though his limbs had lost all feeling, almost as if he was drowning –

And then he forced the feeling down and decided that no, it was not an appropriate time to panic or break down, not now at least. The past could not be changed, but the future could, and if he did not want to end up dead before the night was over, a calm state of mind was more conductive to that sort of objective tan the madenned ramblings of someone consumed by fear.

Yeah, yeah. Break down later, survive now. Good starting plan.

The first thing he noted – and arguably the most worrying, of course – was that what the golem possessed technique. This was more tan the brutish swing from a being that knew no better – the positioning, the angle, the way it flowed. Wonderful, more things to worry about. It had been rather clear this was not something that could be called ‘average’ in any way, but showcasing this now? Ah, damnit. This was bad, this was bad, if it can do this, then what other tricks did it have hidden as of now?

Ah, useless, useless, he could not rule out possibilities yet, whatever plan was made would not have a 100% guarantee of success. If only. . .

“Lancer, I am afraid—I do not really have much to tell you right now.” He’d have chuckled if he found any humor in the situation, but honestly, he wasn’t the sort that could carelessly laugh at the prospect of one’s own death. Call him a coward if you must. “First, I would request that you leave me a safe distance away. I will be no more than a hidrance if you have to worry about my safety while fighting this one. That said, I will still hopefully be of assistance, at least as far as mending any wound you might take.

That said I don’t presume to know enough to tell you what to do. It would be regrettable if you had to reveal your aces in our first battle, but I Will not tell you otherwise if you deem it necessary. In short: feel free to go wild.”

There was no small chance someone had seen the symbol Lancer displayed anyway. So while ideally those tools would not need to be wielded so soon. . .

. . .Well, ideally, he doubted they would be fighting this thing in the first place. So what was that about going with the flow? Or however that line was supposed to go.

“Join up with the others and coordinate forces – seems the most prudent course for the moment.”



Even as he felt the aftershock of the strike, he did not flinch—in fact, if anything, his scowl only deepened bit by bit as he observed that their enemy might, in fact, not be as simple-minded as he had hoped it to be.

Troublesome, troublesome. But now it was not the time to worry about such things—instead, he tightened his grip on the sword kept his Master behind him—the role of guardian was, at least, something he excelled at. Capitalizing on the opportunity offered by the fact that it had chosen to momentarily focus on the other group, he continued to carry Marguerite to what would hopefully be a safe place. He was not the fastest of Heroes, but he liked to believe he was not too shabby when it came to aspects outside of his resilience.

. . .He would not retreat, he knew that much—whatever it was, it needed to be put down, and it needed to be done fast. At least if his Master was safely out of the line of fire, he could fight with less worries looming over him. But even so.
“. . .It is probably going to be one of those nights.” He muttered. “Ah, well. I will do my best against that, Master—so please be safe. Not much else to say at this point in time.”

And with that, he turned back towards the battle, trying to formulate a plan inside his head. There was always, of course, his own Noble Phantasm—but he was leery of using it, for his own Master’s sake if nothing else. However, should the worst come to pass, it might very well be the only option.

Then again, he hoped the night did not get any worse than a Castle-Golem dropping like a literal bomb amidst what was supposed to be a relatively peaceful setting. Perhaps that was a bit too optimistic. Sharpening his gaze, he decided to choose carefully his next target and see if an average attempt bore fruit. A test, so to speak.

The towers were, of course, the first to catch his attention. What would happen, he wondered, if he tested his sword against one of them?

As far as plans go—well, not the most elaborate thing, but he had to start somewhere, didn’t he? Perhaps much too simplistic, but at least if he could get a measure of its defenses, then he could judge a more appropriate course of action. Of course, the main ‘body’ would probably require to be annihilated in order to truly best this foe, at least with no more esoteric means at hand, but. . .

Taking a breath he did not really need, he charged into battle again, sword held tightly with both hands, displaying his form in a manner that could only be called brazen, as though daring the foe to attack.

Baby steps. Let us test the waters first before fully commiting.

Siegfried’s eyes had slid towards the towering behemoth that addressed him, more akin to a giant than a human in size, if not in demeanor. Looking at everyone else and then at his choice of attire, he realized that, yes, he was quite out of place in that regard – but well, there was not much that could be done regardless. He would catch the eye of normal people either way, and it was not like he could conceal his back, so it was simply less of a headache to just carry on like this. That said, there was no reason not to be courteous.


Until there was, he supposed. The breeze kicked him first, the hair in the back of his neck stood on end, almost like a jolt of electricity had shot through him, his eyes turned towards the source, a hand making its way towards the handle of the greatsword at his back.

His fist clenched, his heartbeat stilled as he observed it draw closer and closer upon them, almost a single moment stretched into infinity. This was. . .

No good. No good, no good at all. Ah, damnation, he had expected a simple affair and he should have known better than to tempt fate like that. But those were thoughts for another place, another time – what mattered now was that Ruler’s sole warning had not fallen on deaf ears.

Indeed, he moved. With quickness beyond normal men, he turned and practically lunged towards his Master in an attempt to get her out of the line of fire. Certainly, it would be a somewhat disorienting experience, but better be alive to lament that than dead, right? His features bled into a frown, looking over his shoulder towards the newest monstrosity to have arrived. In spite of himself, he felt his heartbeat quickening yet again, but he reminded himself – before engaging, it was paramount to ensure his Master’s safety. If it was required, he would fight, but not until he completed that task. Good thing, too, it would give him time to formulate possible strategies to employ in his head.

That said – he had a feeling he would not particularly enjoy this fight at all. Give him an enemy his own size to battle one on one against, he would be a happy man – or he would have, a long time ago, before he bathed in Fafnir’s blood.

“. . .But a literal moving fortress? That is not nearly as fun.”

The irony of the statement did not escape him. He just failed to care for it. Regardless, now it was not the time to either jest or dawdle. His eyes narrowed as he noticed it taking in the Prana of the surroundings, almost greedily, accruing that light. . .

That. . . Could not possibly mean anything good.

“Master, apologies if I was too rough, but will you be fine by yourself? I don’t believe we can let that thing be, so it seems we will be rushing into battle sooner than I would have liked. At least this time it won’t be by our lonesome. . .even if the enemy seems far harder to take down.”

Well, at least this one seemingly did not insult him with its mere presence. Small steps. Even then, however, he knew those words rang true. Balmung could be said to be overkill against one individual opponent, his own greatest weapon was something suited to battle armies with, but even if this was one individual opponent, he could hardly say it was the average. So. . .he was not particularly certain about its capacity to take the castle down. For the first time, he felt that perhaps a different kind of Holy Sword would have been better suited to the task than his own.

To say nothing about the unease he felt as it absorbed more and more magical energy. That did not bode well, at all.

“That said. . .I think the first order of business should be trying to stop it from gathering more mana. Or kill it before it does.”

A disgustingly simple plan. Then again, he did not have much else to go on.

Of course, it was easier said than done, considering the amount of question marks said course of action still left them with. Ah, well, he supposed he could think as he fought, or at trust his Master to figure something out.

At the very least, he would not allow her to fall here.


David Ríos

He froze for an instant, feeling as though the world slowed down around him. The wind caused him to stumble, almost fall, but his Circuits opened and, with single word spoken almost in a trance, something he had managed to accomplish after turning it into a true reflex, he felt magical energy flood his limbs to an extent, giving him the ability to stand on his feet.

Fat lot of good it would do him if that thing managed to catch him. Without even thinking, he ran, dignity thrown out of the window in the face of a much more pressing need – that of surviving to see another day. He knew which battles to pick, and right now, as he frantically sought to put as much distance as possible between himself and that golem, that castle, he knew it would do him no good to try and stand his ground, fight here. It was not an enemy he could take advantage of, at least that he could see, and therefore, the most efficient course of action was to not get killed and leave Lancer without a Master.

At least they were not alone, and even though a small part of his mind told him they could be put at a disadvantage if they revealed too many cards right now, he told that part to shove it and retreat into the darker recesses of his conscious. For the moment, what mattered – what actually mattered – was dealing with this uninvited guest in whatever manner was the quickest and easiest.

They just had to find it.

Considering its lack of care for discretion, they had to do it fast, as well.

Ah, he had hoped his first battle in this ritual to have been perhaps a more dignified affair, instead here he was, running for his life, his back to the enemy and already going on tangents. Mother and Father would be – actually, he was not sure. At least it seemed to work out, as far as getting out alive went, so maybe they would not mind too much. Decorum was secondary right now, and he hoped they would agree.

“Lancer!” He said, perhaps heard perhaps not. Who could tell, amidst these roaring winds? “I’ll be counting on you today, too!”

Nothing wrong with relying on his partner, he guessed. He did feel a little disappointed that he would be unable to provide much aid beyond healing, but it was better than nothing. Or so he hoped.

Terribly sorry for vanishing, but my last weeks have been a hellish mess of projects, exams and needing to go to the hospital.

Getting hit by a car sucks. Who knew. But yeah, I was still an idiot for not dropping a heads up about it -- sorry.

Sundown, Eastern Fields. The message had been clear and brokered no room for argument, and considering the nature of the sender, he could not very well refuse. It put him on edge, in a way – at least on a certain level, to be surrounded by so many potential enemies, and his eyes narrowed at the thought of how his last confrontation had gone down.

In that regard, he knew it was not really a pressing concern – after all, to attempt something at that time would be almost guaranteed to be suicidal, but he was cautious nonetheless. It was a matter of how he was as an individual, and simply could not be helped. At the very least, it’d allow them to actually scout the competition, even if it would be the same for them.
And so, at the appointed time, in the appointed place, he approached the gathering with certainty in his step. He made no attempt to hide his presence – at least in so far as this temporary ceasefire would be concerned, it would serve no purpose. He materialized with little fanfare, lacking any sort of modern fashion choice that he could have used to blend in at any one point. Balmung was slung across his back, resting in its sheath, and he hoped he would not have to retrieve it in the following hours, but. . .

Well. Better be prepared anyway.

It shone softly, that greenish sigil etched across his entire chest, reaching his cheek and making his appearance all the more striking. Certainly, to someone looking at him right now, he could very well seem a knight straight out of a fairy tale. Looking at the other attendants, he tried to force the tension to ebb away and act polite – after all, common courtesy should be observed, correct?
“Good evening.” His voice was firm, but soft – nothing like a boastful bellow, or a haughty declaration. Merely a simple greeting, before he fell silent once more. Perhaps he was just not much of a people person, perhaps he saw no point in saying further at the moment. Or maybe both. Not much one could tell when he sported that grim, stony-faced façade that seemed to fit him like a well-worn cloak.

It probably was like one. After all, a tragic hero can’t ever really escape being one, can he?

But, well. . .no time to dwell on that. His piece said, he awaited to be addressed or for his Master to give a command. Subservience was not a habit he had managed to break within his lifetime, and he seemed to be unlikely to break it now of all times.

A shame, really. Perhaps he would be better off if he was just a more outgoing man. But, well – words were never really his forte, anyway.

@ConstantlyComic @Anyone Who Cares

David Ríos, Eastern Fields

To say he was expecting to be called would be a lie. And for an instant, it had worried him – like so many things tended to, these days. But it seemed he was not in trouble – and, in fact, this appeared to be a wonderful time to scope out potential adversaries. Plus, he would be able to confer about the presence Lancer had felt, though the thought was pushed to the back of his mind for the moment.

He had considered whether it was wise of him to go, obviously, but he could not help but feel it was the right choice to attend in person instead of looking through Lancer’s eyes. He surely felt it would, at least, serve to build up his relationship with his Servant – and he could not very well stay cooped up in that house for the duration of the war, anyway. He would have to leave, eventually, for one reason or another – might as well take the chance and see the city by himself while the opportunity of risking little by doing so presents itself so graciously.

The arrival could have been better timed, perhaps early to try and get a gauge of the overseer of the war himself, but alas, that was not to be, and it seemed quite a little party had formed by the time he stepped foot into the clearing.

Quaint, so very quaint. They had provided snacks, even! Very nice of them, though his first thought had been checking them for poison before deciding that he could lower his guard a bit – attempted assassination would not be a smart thing to attempt here and now, of all times, would it? So, with what he hoped was a relaxed smile, he approached the group. Lancer would keep watch for both of them. . .or so he hoped, anyway. It’d be quite embarrassing to die because he was too trusting, of all things.

“Hello, sorry if we are running late.” He offered an awkward chuckle, or what passed off as one, anyway. At least breaking the ice could be the first step.

That, however, did not really stop him from still being somewhat on edge. So many things could go wrong, so many potential problems that could arise. . .

Calm down, get your act together, and try to scout some of the competition while you are here anyway.

@Ijoyen @Anyone Who Cares

Fuyuki Hyatt, Day Two

He seemed content to stare out from the window, scanning the horizon with eyes that saw much, yet nothing. He had been on edge — that much was clear by his gait, from the more prominent frown adorning his features to the way his very posture seemed more stiff, arms folded before his chest as he sought a foe that might or might not have been there. The methodical tapping on his finger against his arm was the only sound that came from the Servant, lost in thought as he was. Perhaps a certain other would have had better chances of discovering any hidden observer, but Siegfried was not that man, and so, pondering such matters was pointless.

Rather than an actual act of surveillance, it seemed it was simply the posture he had chosen to think last night’s events over.

It had been unbecoming of him. Shameful, even. Normally he always held his emotions in check, but those few hours ago, he was afraid to say he had almost been swallowed up by them. It was not even something that thing had done, he had merely felt so completely disgusted by its mere existence that he had not thought twice about other moves that could have been made.

A victory was a victory, but at what price had this one come? His frown deepened, and the rhythm of the tapping increased. It was not even something that thing had done, rather, it felt as though he simply had no choice but to detest it for what it was.

If nothing else, that had been new.

Perhaps there is some truth to a certain statement — things that are too alike do end up repelling each other. His jaw twitched, as though the idea itself, though not spoken aloud, caused him to flinch. Surely…

His Master spoke behind him, and he left those thoughts aside for a later moment. There were more important matters at hand than what ate at him, and it would not be a problem until it impaired his ability to act as a Servant.

Forgetting about one’s problems is much easier than confronting them.

“If that is your wish, Master, then let us depart when you are ready. I will keep to myself in Spirit Form unless my presence is required — there is little need to have other Masters and Servants catch a glimpse of me, should we run into them.”

Of course, it would also allow her to gather her strength further after the events of last night. Balmung was not a toy to be wielded carelessly, and in a way, he felt ashamed to have needed to use it so early even though she had given permission.

Sorry, Master. It seems you did not contract with as good a Hero as you had hoped.


David Ríos

Riverside Cottage

He paused, at the exit, humming to himself a tune he had picked up some years ago, its name forgotten already, but still memorable enough to have him subconsciously do this when thinking at times. Looking down the street, he felt he could safely bet he would not be the only one to attend the meeting with the Overseer today. Though it was the norm to present oneself after a successful summoning, it was also something he felt people would ignore if it was too inconvenient. And certainly, he felt there were few who would disagree with the idea that there were more productive things to get done in the first night than visiting the church when that could easily be pushed to a later date with little complaint.

Taking that into account, he considered what his Servant had asked. Certainly, staying materialized would allow an even quicker response should the need arise, but…

“Well.”, his tone contained a small flicker of unease. It seemed that her report last night had shaken some alarm into him, even if the investigation they had attempted afterwards had not borne fruit. “I would suggest that you keep to Spirit Form when we approach the church unless your presence is required, Lancer. Stay vigilant, of course, but I do not think — or, at least, do not want to think — there are Masters or Servants that would chance an attack in broad daylight, much less in the accorded neutral ground when we arrive. It should be fine so long as we do not veer into the more isolated areas. At least this early, that is.”

Witnesses, after all, were such a bothersome affair to take care of. Really, it was by far easier to everyone involved to keep the secrecy that had been made the norm, even if one did not take the Overseer into account.

So all considered, he felt his orders were reasonable. Hiding as much of his Servant as possible before the actual engagement would be the most beneficial in both the short and long run. He had been dealt his hand, so it was up to him to make the most optimal plays he could with it.

Losing was not an option. His family’s — his pride had already been placed as chips upon the table. To lose would be the same as dying even if no hero of antiquity or magus of modern times actually took his head.

But that was fine. He had already known that the moment he arrived in this town, and he had accepted it.


I've had problems this week due to basicaly an unreasonable amount of deadlines on exams and group projects. Not even Saturday was free.

But I should be able to get something done today. Sorry.
David Rios

Riverside Cottage

He moved with a sort of deliberate slowness, perhaps still tired from the events of the night prior. Though he had managed to do as he had wished even after the setback, he had to admit — it had still been a night he had spent somewhat on edge.

He knew that other Servants scouting — or even assaulting this place — were a risk, but that was a known factor, unlike whatever it was that Lancer had met. Still, it would not do to keep losing sleep over the detail when he had so little to go on, so he simply focused on the day ahead and thought of how to best spend the daylight hours.


“Ah, that’s right.” He muttered before taking a sip from a mug filled to the brim with coffee. He had mentioned one thing yesterday night that it would be best to take care of as soon as possible, hadn’t he? It was hardly an absolute necessity, but he figured — might as well make a good impression, right?

Noting that the mug was already empty, he left it at the counter and started walking, picking his jacket on the way out. Opening the door, he had to close his eyes, if only slightly, due to the sunlight reaching them.

He grumbled to himself. A morning person, he was not — he sighed as he recounted this little fact about himself.

“Lancer,” He called out. “We are going to meet the Overseer — better to get the official registration done as soon as possible and then perhaps spend the rest of the day scouting the city at large.”

Perhaps he was foolish, going by himself instead of sending a familiar, but manners were much too valuable to ignore them so. With that thought, he started walking again — should nothing happen on the way there, it would be a relatively quick affair to get there, meet and greet and get out.

Come to think of it, this would be the first time he stepped foot in a church in a long time, wouldn’t it? Ah, well — matters for another time.


Shinto Streets

The Servant nodded. There were no more words exchanged as he closed his eyes for but an instant before gazing upwards, resolve of steel gathered. His grip on his weapon's handle tightened, then slackened slightly and he reared back, as though to swing.

Such thing was foolishness, of course. Siegfried was not so mighty that a mere swing would send a current of razor wind towards the demon, nor would Balmung enlarge like a certain staff in order to reach the opponent that high up. Besides, he had already acknowledged that a normal swing wounding it was an impossibility at most.

But that was fine. After all, Noble Phantasms were meant to achieve something that should have been an impossibility, the true trump card that propelled Servants above their station.

Wisps of energy akin in color to a waning sun emerged from the pommel of the greatsword, more specifically, the jewel embedded on it. This was something unknown to this world, which had left that part of its history behind — the Fifth True Element, Ether from the Age of Gods. It wrapped around the blade, coalesced as though an espectral sword that sought to overlap with the one Siegfried held.

This was the weapon that had once bathed the world in twilight, the sword that had struck down the Evil Dragon, Fafnir, in a time long past. His muscles tensed as coiled springs, ready to release, and he spoke the words

Phantasmal Greatsword - Felling of the Sky Demon!


Twilight expanded as he swung, a crescent of raw, undiluted power with the sole purpose of destruction. This was the second Noble Phantasm the Dragon-Blooded Knight possessed, a weapon able to rend armies with little difficulty. The beam was directed upwards, seeking to engulf its master’s enemy, to leave behind not even ash.

In these circumstances, the Demon’s position was indeed a fortuitous one — were he to have unleashed it in any other direction but upward, while it might not called as much attention, there was little doubt the land would have been razed beyond repair. As it was, it would miss the buildings and simply vanish into the night sky.

@ConstantlyComic@Moonlit Sonata

Shinto Streets

Landing on his feet and tearing up pavement in the process, Siegfried looked up at the demon as it buzzed in the air, former strategy discarded. Maybe he was just much too cautious, but launching himself towards it — at least at this moment — simply did not seem like the best of ideas.

It is the same maxim that rules ballistics, after all. A bullet cannot switch targets after being shot, and in this case, Siegfried would be that bullet. Without footing, he would be without the advantage afforded by superior dexterity whereas the flying creature would be unimpeded, and leaving his Master alone in the ground seemed as a terrible idea, so instead he endeavored to make his way back to her as fast as he could, ready to lash out in her defense if necessary. Taking note of the height and the position, he could not help but note, in the back of his mind, that the situation was ideal to minimize collateral damage went if he used that.

...Of course, using that came with its own share of risks and potential problems that would arise, but if anything, his mind reached two possible paths of action open at this time. Certainly, there were probably more, but those two were the most straightforward of the lot. Without turning to his Master, he spoke.

“If I try to reach it, I will be at a disadvantage in the air and you will be left unprotected. There is also no guarantee it won’t just fly away and then come for you, Master.” His grip tightened, and were Balmung a normal sword, the handle would have broken under such duress. But it was not, and so, it did not. “We can attempt to make a retreat — but it has already proven its speed, and I cannot move at full throttle if I am to carry you, so that would leave the option of me covering for you until you reach safety and then withdrawing, but that also assumes it will not target you. At worst, it may slip by and reach you if that were the case. At best, we just manage to move this fight somewhere else.” There was a pause. “The other option is for me to use my Noble Phantasm. It would be orders of magnitude above a standard attack, so assuming the rejecting force is the same, it would not be enough to save it. But there are witnesses or spies to consider.”

Siegfried’s Noble Phantasm — the true strength of the Phantasmal Greatsword which could raze an entire opposing army if used with no restraint. Normally, he would not consider wielding it in this area — if let loose, it would cause great harm. However, with the enemy so willing to place itself on the skies…

Well. Its title was appropriate in this circumstance, to an extent, was it not?

Yet at the same time, it implied taking a great risk, for, should any be gathering information from the battle at this moment, the very instant he spoke the name the entire veil of anonymity that helped Siegfried keep his greatest weakness secret would come undone. No, even beyond that, if even a single individual, regardless of involvement in the war, was gazing in the wrong direction the moment he let it loose... Well, it was not a subtle thing.

Few Holy Swords were, really.

“If you have any other idea, Master, I will listen.” He said. “If you wish that I enact any of the plans, I will. But I ask that you give the order promptly.”

@ConstantlyComic @Moonlit Sonata
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