Oh my god, has anyone here seen Ushio and Tora yet? I thought I'd check it out because I liked what MADHOUSE did in terms of adapting an older manga like Parasyte, but this show... this fucking show...
Caster, huh? Well that was disappointing. Still, she felt strong. He'd have to trust in that feeling.
Darryl grunted.
"In case you didn't notice, I was kind of kidnapped and dragged here by that asshole priest. He looks the type..." Darryl muttered, holding back any further comments about altar boys or unmarked vans. "Anyway, my knowledge of the situation is about zilch. I'll admit though, the opportunity excites me. Now that I know this is the Holy Grail War, I'm itching to get started. It feels like I'm about to jump out of my skin here. As for the details..."
He tried out the clairvoyance she'd spoken of. Let's save those for later. Right now, let's hear what crazy has to say. I don't really like being stuck in a cramped room with a bunch of other Masters and Servants, but this guy knows something we don't, and I don't like that. There's a reason he brought us all here, and if I know types like him, he's going to tell us. I've got an Azoth sword, a few Mystic Codes, and a bag of rune stones hanging off my belt. We can use them to distract him and the other Masters once he's finished monologuing.
He looked up at Caster for the first time. You do have a way to get us out of here, right?
Darryl watched the circle come to life. The runes he had prepared would hopefully be a useful catalyst. Algiz, Nauthiz, Ansuz, Inguz. Once he had formed the Ford of the Forked Branch, he had invoked the history and heritage of the Red Branch Knights of Ulster, setting a distinct time and place in history for the Throne to pull a hero from. He'd been thrown in blind, but that did not mean he could not alter his fate and obtain a powerful Servant.
A Red Branch Knight or hero of Ulster would certainly make a fantastic Knight-class Servant. I can't be too greedy and hope for Saber, but I'd certainly settle for a Lancer or a Rider. Though hopefully it's not a Berserker, having to deal with a riastrad could get out of hand...
Other circles came to life around him. Considering the circumstances in which they'd come together, it seemed like they'd all been brought here against their will by someone for some unknown reason. Probably that damn priest over there. Darryl knew he was an Executor, but there was effectively no difference. He was a priest of the church of violence sent forth to purge demons and heresy and slaughter the infidels. So what does he want with the Grail? What does he intend for us? Will he kill us once our Servants have been summoned?
One of them puked. Darryl's face crinkled. Really, dude?
He saw a form take shape somewhere to his right in front of pukey, a young girl, younger than some of his preteen cousins. She very obviously was a knight of the sword, and she carried a shield with the crest of a lion. British then. Definitely Saber. Darryl sighed as his own circle continued to process the information it had been fed. The runes. His blood. It had indeed been too much to hope for Saber. Seeing how he didn't desire Archer, it didn't disappoint him much when he saw one materialize next to the half-blind magus.
Lots of women here. You'd think stuff like Genghis Khan being female would've gone down in the history books. Then again, with how they probably treated women back then... man, tumblr would have a fucking field day with this.
That's when his own Servant materialized. A tall robed woman with red hair and crimson eyes emerged from a cloud of smoke or energy the color of oak, and Darryl was immediately intimidated by her. She was a hero of quite some stature. Literally. She had to be, what? Eight inches taller than him? Ten? Twelve? She was a beauty too, what little he could see of her beneath that willowy black cloak.
I think they'd call this "a tall glass of water" down South, Darryl thought nervously. He had no intentions of oppressing his Servant. If anything, he'd probably fawn over them. These were his idols after all. But still, he didn't want to be treated like some peon, and it was hard to make a good first impression and impress them when the other party towered over you by a full foot.
Well I guess I'll just have to impress her the old-fashioned way then. And hey, at least she can't complain when I don't look at her eyes, right? he thought dryly.
That's when Darryl noticed a conspicuous lack of a weapon on her person. A bow or a lance couldn't be concealed in a set of robes like that, and Saber had already been summoned. Rider then? Who was she?
"... Cé go bhfuil tú?" he said hesitantly, testing her in his (admittedly rusty) Gaelic. "Is é mo ainm Darryl. Tá mé do mháistir. I think..."
"Who are you? My name is Darryl. I am your Master."
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Lancer
Lancer felt her spirit being drawn from the Throne. Ooooh, this is tingly!
The circle glowed with a bright orange flame. Out of it walked an indiscernible figure wreathed in fire. Not that they couldn't be seen, but... they couldn't be recognized. It was if they had no shape, or that the shape they had was constantly in flux. Details like facial structure, height, hair length, everything couldn't be pinned down. All that you could say for certain was that it, they were human. That was all.
"Hmmmm... so this is what the physical world feels like. Is this my body? I don't like it."
Finally this anonymous being settled on a form, the flames flickering away as they stepped out of the circle, their geta clopping on the cold stone floor. They stopped in front of Lee, who they instinctively knew was their Master.
"Hello hello, this is Servant Lancer, reporting for duty! Are you into maids or S&M? My personal preferences are shibari and Chinese water torture, but I'm flexible! I'm also totally up for a ménage à trois if that's what you're into! Call me 'Iwami-chan', kay?"
This Servant clearly wasn't taking this seriously.
There we go. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go collapse on my bed like I haven't sleep in days, because right now my eyelids feel like they're heavier than neutron stars.
Darryl appeared dazed and confused like everyone else, but in actuality he'd been jolted wide awake by a sudden burst of adrenaline the moment the spell was released and had been trying to adequately piece things together since then.
First I was in the Clocktower. Then I went to the library. This doesn't look like London or even England, and it sure as bloody fucking hell isn't a library. So something must have happened. What next? I checked out a book. Okay, what kind of book? Anything dangerous, forbidden knowledge man was not meant to know. No, it was a book on nordic runes vs. celtic ones, and I fell asleep reading it in the librar. Does that mean this is a dream then? No, too real. I wouldn't have the contingencies I came up with for situations like this if it was a dream. Which means...
Darryl's mind raced with the possibilities. So it's true then...
Doing everything he could to not let on that he was awake and self-aware, Darryl quietly drew runes over the circle in front of him, chanting in Gaelic. If someone was going to use his blood to summon a Servant, it was going to be one that he wanted.