Fate/Carnival Rebirth

[The Out Of World]

"You look better without the mustache! You should have tried growing a beard instead, like me!"

Archer, either ignorant of the danger of leaving an angry, but significantly less pissed of then before, dragon to run through a residential area, or far more likely simply not caring about the lives that may be endangered, continued to fire his arrows towards the angry midget. Talking divine shit the entire time.

"Now Fafnir my friend, come over here! I have a gift for you... It's my arrows of love and justice!" A fresh volley of arrows shot forth, prepared to befriend Fafnir with their highly painful electric love.

Click to shrink...

"HAS THE MIGHTY FAFNIR MET YA BEFO-" He pondered for a moment while plowing through another garage wall, only to be met with the crack-thoom of thunder and lightning pelting him over and over again. "WAIT JUST A COTTON-PICKING MINUTE!" Fafnir peeled himself from the charred rubble and cupped a hand over his ear as if to magnify his hearing.

A pair of varmints struggled to open one of the rear doors and eventually settled for kicking the horribly mangled thing off its hinges altogether. They grabbed a silver suitcase and opted to tuck and roll, taking their chances with the asphalt instead of the fists of justice.

Click to shrink...

"THE MIGHTY FAFNIR RECOGNIZES THAT SOUND! IT'S THE SOUND OF GOLD A-JINGLING! HOLD ON GOLD, DADDY'S COMING FOR YA!" The dwarven juggernaut pivoted on his heel and restarted his demolition derby in the opposite direction, plowing through even more civilian residences in the most direct possible route to his swindled treasure.

 

[MrEgret]

And there was much screaming. Painful screams, the kind of scream a man screams when he is in pain. Painful screams that painfully sounded...painful.

A pair of varmints struggled to open one of the rear doors and eventually settled for kicking the horribly mangled thing off its hinges altogether. They grabbed a silver suitcase and opted to tuck and roll, taking their chances with the asphalt instead of the fists of justice.

Click to shrink...

Archer's administration of righteous beatings was rudely interrupted by the sound of hinges shrieking in protest as two of the varmints tried to escape. However, in doing so, they had committed a grievous tactical blunder.

They had just pissed Archer off.

"Oh no you don't, you yella-bellied sidewinders!" Archer growled as she grabbed two of the fallen cowboys' pistols and followed them out of the van. Landing a bit better than her first attempt at boarding the SUV, Archer instead entered a light jog upon landing. Then, she brought her newly liberated firearms to bear, and fired off two shots, with the intention of blasting the briefcase out of their hands.

Now, most beings, mortal and otherwise, would need to perform a complicated and time-consuming process known as "aiming," where one directed their chosen projectile weapon in such a way that it would be more likely to hit the target, before doing such a thing. This was especially true in the current scenario, as the target was much smaller than the "center of mass", and was moving quite frantically besides.

However, Archer had no time for such petty trifles. Those varmints were disturbing the peace, and her bullets will hit their targets if they knew what was good for them, goddammit.

Spoiler: Wise Up!

Archer

Parameters
Strength: D
Endurance: D
Agility: B
Mana: E
Luck: B

Personal Skills
Marksmanship (A+): The ability to hit targets precisely with a ranged weapon. At this level, the marksmanship of a Servant approaches the level of a "spell" or "curse," in that barring a Skill or a Noble Phantasm that can intercept or defend against ranged attacks, the Servant is guaranteed to hit the target that he or she chooses to hit.

 

[BlackHadou]

In the kitchen stirred an almost equally immense man, one whose skin was marred by nearly as many tattoos as the pancake-devouring Berserker. He murmured sour Russian phrases and removed a pancake from the stove with his crusty spatula and flipped it onto a plate with several others of its kind before turning the stove off and exiting out a back door to catch a smoke break.

The kitchen was less awful than the rest of the restaurant, but not by much.

Click to shrink...

Pancakes. Yummy.

Switching to normal form, Angra Mainyu scoffed the delicious ambrosia as quickly as he could, before fading from view, leaving the messy plate behind. Now, where was something easy to get out for his Master?

 

[God and the Snake]

Lancer blinked, his eyes the size of dinner plates as he tried to process the flood of information Leonardo just delivered to him.

".....Master, I shall be truthful with you. I understood only a fraction of what you just said."

Click to shrink...

"No, no, Lancer! It's really simple! You just-"

"You going to talk so damn much about Sudoku, just take thing already." He grumbled and slid the booklet over to the Atlasian agent. "Now buy food or get out. We have 2 A.M. special: vodka for little extra chargings of money."

Click to shrink...

Torn from his plea by the Russian's grumbling, Leo glanced at him, then Lancer, then at the pair of Servants chowing down. He then reached into his pant's pocket and plopped a crumpled fifty dollar bill on the table. "Two stacks of pancakes and a glass of v-vodka for everyone. Just give wh-whatever's left over back to me. In, uh, bacon." His stutter returned as he almost flushed, but Leo soldiered on: He might as well make a good impression before the war started: It made the fights more enjoyable if everyone was excited.

 

[EternalStruggle]

"HAS THE MIGHTY FAFNIR MET YA BEFO-" He pondered for a moment while plowing through another garage wall, only to be met with the crack-thoom of thunder and lightning pelting him over and over again. "WAIT JUST A COTTON-PICKING MINUTE!" Fafnir peeled himself from the charred rubble and cupped a hand over his ear as if to magnify his hearing.

Click to shrink...

"THE MIGHTY FAFNIR RECOGNIZES THAT SOUND! IT'S THE SOUND OF GOLD A-JINGLING! HOLD ON GOLD, DADDY'S COMING FOR YA!" The dwarven juggernaut pivoted on his heel and restarted his demolition derby in the opposite direction, plowing through even more civilian residences in the most direct possible route to his swindled treasure.

Click to shrink...

Intriguing.

"Rodger" honed in on the loud voice of Fafnir. He knew that a ranged combatant would be nearby, either a Caster or an Archer. But to pursue them or to pursue Fafnir...

Best to lock down the winning side. Following the rough path of the trail of destruction, he re-materialized and soon enough began to hone in on the location of the mysterious ranged fighter. He should be getting very close.

Perhaps he would even be around this corner or so...

(@erlking)

 

[Mortifer]

A hedge maze. Why on earth would this house have a hedge maze on top of its already convoluted internal design? Who was his Master? All of these incredibly annoying questions were swirling around in Caster's head as he materialized by his Master within the shrubbery

Destroying the maze would be...possible, but somewhat overkill. However, simply jumping over the walls would be simple, though incredibly undignified. With a sigh, he lowered himself down.

"Hold on tight, Master." He ordered. Once the woman had a firm grasp on him, powerful muscles bunched up underneath him. The hedge maze walls fell away behind them with a rush of wind. Caster bounded across the tops of the hedge like stepping stones, leaving dents in the foliage behind him as he went. The pair sailed over the back wall and onto the ground below.

"Master, if you have any preference for where we should go, now would be the time to decide. If we can evade them for now, perhaps we can return to your home later, and I will be able to ward it against attackers. If I had enough time, well...we wouldn't need to flee." He waited patiently, and also quietly prayed that she was going to step off of his back and not ride him across town like an exceptionally fluffy pony.

Click to shrink...

Taking a moment to stop enjoying Caster's fluffiness, the Master blinked.

"Err..." Taiga thought for a moment, thinking about what she knew of the city. "Oh! There's a pancake place not far from here, where we can blend in good! They should remember me from last time I was there, so whoever is hunting us probably won't think we're suspicious."

Plus, those pancakes were great.

With her piece said, Taiga went back to enjoying how fluffy Caster's fur was.

 

[Fairborough]

Saber blinked, then smiled. He turned around and ran back towards his master. "Hey, Master!" he yelled.

Click to shrink...

The BMW comes to a stop before Mograine gets out, reforming Infinity Edge.

Gesturing at Archer he gripes "Feel like fighting yet?"

 

[LupineVolt]

Taking a moment to stop enjoying Caster's fluffiness, the Master blinked.

"Err..." Taiga thought for a moment, thinking about what she knew of the city. "Oh! There's a pancake place not far from here, where we can blend in good! They should remember me from last time I was there, so whoever is hunting us probably won't think we're suspicious."

Plus, those pancakes were great.

With her piece said, Taiga went back to enjoying how fluffy Caster's fur was.

Click to shrink...

Caster had never been what one would call comfortable with the opposite sex up close and personal. His wedding day had been proof enough of that little tidbit. So feeling a young woman running her fingers through his...fur... was a profoundly uncomfortable sensation that he bit down like the good b-Servant he was.

"Very good. A public place will make it risky for others to attack us." He turned in the way Taiga had directed him. "Hold on, Master." And he ran, paws flying over the sidewalk before he made a leap onto a neighboring building's roof, and across to the next, like a furry comet passing over the city.

 

[IKnowNothing]

"No, no, Lancer! It's really simple! You just-"

Click to shrink...

"Master no, the last time one tried to teach me a complicated game, I woke up outside the mead house with less clothes then I have on me presently."

Torn from his plea by the Russian's grumbling, Leo glanced at him, then Lancer, then at the pair of Servants chowing down. He then reached into his pant's pocket and plopped a crumpled fifty dollar bill on the table. "Two stacks of pancakes and a glass of v-vodka for everyone. Just give wh-whatever's left over back to me. In, uh, bacon." His stutter returned as he almost flushed, but Leo soldiered on: He might as well make a good impression before the war started: It made the fights more enjoyable if everyone was excited.

Click to shrink...

"... The grail did not grant me the knowledge I seek, so I ask, what is vodka?" Lancer asked, genuine confusion written all over his face.

 

[The Out Of World]

Torn from his plea by the Russian's grumbling, Leo glanced at him, then Lancer, then at the pair of Servants chowing down. He then reached into his pant's pocket and plopped a crumpled fifty dollar bill on the table. "Two stacks of pancakes and a glass of v-vodka for everyone. Just give wh-whatever's left over back to me. In, uh, bacon." His stutter returned as he almost flushed, but Leo soldiered on: He might as well make a good impression before the war started: It made the fights more enjoyable if everyone was excited.

Click to shrink...

"Boris!" The ever-so-tolerant Russian roared a fast-paced string of instructions in Russian loud enough to be heard by everyone inside the UHOP and perhaps even outside the humble establishment's walls while adding Leo's funds to the register. Boris returned to the kitchen from his smoke break with a bucket of lard in one hand and a platter in the other, covered with a bottle and glasses of generous size. He set both aside for the moment and prepared the grill once more before heaping a load of bacon and pouring the bucket's contents onto the hot appliance. The eternally cheerful fry cook brought the platter out to the man at the counter and said, "Here you are going Ivan," before skulking back to his greasy lair to tend to the bacon.

Ivan took the platter and prepared a table for the customers, having quickly wiped it clean with a mottled rag. It wasn't long before the duo had a piping hot stack of pancakes and a bowl filled with horrendously greasy, crispy bacon before them for consumption. Tall glasses were filled with the wonderful mix of water and ethanol from the Motherland, too. Meanwhile, Rider violently emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor and passed out face-first on the table.

"Ha! I win this round!" Berserker heartily cheered as he stopped eating his stack of pancakes for the moment, only to begin taking the syrup-covered discs from Rider's stack and renew his face-stuffing rampage while Rider moaned in pitiful agony. Ivan eyed the scene warily from the counter and began leafing through the pages of a copy of Bear Wrestling Monthly. "I am not of cleanings that up." He stated in a dry tone of voice.

More pancake batter could be heard sizzling with patriotic fervor on the distant stove.

 

[The Out Of World]

Pancakes. Yummy.

Switching to normal form, Angra Mainyu scoffed the delicious ambrosia as quickly as he could, before fading from view, leaving the messy plate behind. Now, where was something easy to get out for his Master?

Click to shrink...

Sadly, it seemed Ruler's options were limited to:

A. Stealing pancakes from a ravenous Berserker
B. Stealing pancakes from a burly Russian
C. Stealing pancakes and vodka from a Lancer and his Master

 

[The Out Of World]

Archer's administration of righteous beatings was rudely interrupted by the sound of hinges shrieking in protest as two of the varmints tried to escape. However, in doing so, they had committed a grievous tactical blunder.

They had just pissed Archer off.

"Oh no you don't, you yella-bellied sidewinders!" Archer growled as she grabbed two of the fallen cowboys' pistols and followed them out of the van. Landing a bit better than her first attempt at boarding the SUV, Archer instead entered a light jog upon landing. Then, she brought her newly liberated firearms to bear, and fired off two shots, with the intention of blasting the briefcase out of their hands.

Now, most beings, mortal and otherwise, would need to perform a complicated and time-consuming process known as "aiming," where one directed their chosen projectile weapon in such a way that it would be more likely to hit the target, before doing such a thing. This was especially true in the current scenario, as the target was much smaller than the "center of mass", and was moving quite frantically besides.

However, Archer had no time for such petty trifles. Those varmints were disturbing the peace, and her bullets will hit their targets if they knew what was good for them, goddammit.

Spoiler: Wise Up!

Archer

Parameters
Strength: D
Endurance: D
Agility: B
Mana: E
Luck: B

Personal Skills
Marksmanship (A+): The ability to hit targets precisely with a ranged weapon. At this level, the marksmanship of a Servant approaches the level of a "spell" or "curse," in that barring a Skill or a Noble Phantasm that can intercept or defend against ranged attacks, the Servant is guaranteed to hit the target that he or she chooses to hit.

Click to shrink...

The two gold thieves split up and started running in opposite directions. When Archer's furious steel judgement streaked forward to meet them, they struck excessively dramatic poses to ⌈ Dodge ⌋ the bullets.

Spoiler: Wise Up!

Status
Class: Archer(s)
Titles: ???
True Name: ???
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Class Skills
Independent Action (A+): The ability to act independently of one's Master, even without a supply of prana to support oneself. At this rank, a Servant can persist and even fight without a Master, even when using high-level Noble Phantasms. If the Servant is careful with his or her prana expenditure, then he or she can persist even after the Grail War.

Magic Resistance (C): The ability to resist magical effects. At this rank, the Servant is unaffected by spells consisting of chants of two verses and below. This Skill does not protect against High Thaumaturgy or Greater Rituals.

Personal Skills
Protection from Arrows (B): The ability to defend against ranged attacks via extraordinary means. At this level, as long as the ranged weapon is within the Servant's line of sight, he or she can defend against them. This skill does not work for extremely long-range weapons, or weapons with a large area of effect.

Noble Phantasms
???

 

[Borrowing]

The BMW comes to a stop before Mograine gets out, reforming Infinity Edge.

Gesturing at Archer he gripes "Feel like fighting yet?"

Click to shrink...

"No, not yet. We don't really know what any other servants can do; I'd rather stay back and watch this chaos unfold, and figure out what they can do.

 

[TehChron]

"Pancakes..." she mused. "Discs of wheat-based gruel baked or fried to form a thin bread."
It sounded fine, though the idea of going somewhere else to eat was an alien one.
Nevertheless, she strode outside confidently. Holding herself back from partaking of the current eras style would only inhibit her. She hated missing out. Too much had been lost already.

The vehicle that greeted her was a thing of beauty, and she fell in love at first glance. Draconic in appearance, it met her every aesthetic ideal, and then some. Heavy, brutal, efficient. She wanted it. She threw a sharp glance at the Merchant.

No, it was merely a sign of good taste on his part, nothing more. She imitated his actions and approached it, opening the door opposite to his, and getting in with only a modicrum of discomfort. Her eyes missed nothing, watching his every action, memorizing every movement. The vehicle was useless to her, as she couldn't use it, despite the granted knowledge. Repair, yes. Drive, no. But that could change soon enough.

If there was one thing she was confident in, it was her ability to learn. She would take in everything this local man had to offer, and then place herself within. She'd build her skills and fortune, until she could sit in a position of power once again.

Feminism was a thing, it seemed. She'd not have to hide behind her husbands name this time. Wealth and power awaited her, with just a little time and effort. Just like old times.

Click to shrink...

Tiffany smirked, flicking the engine on with the push of a button. The wonders of modern technology insured that only by having the right wireless signal, tied to his own magic circuits, could his beloved Fafnir be operated.

With a dull roar, the mighty steed took off, arriving at the UHOP within moments, having already crushed several small animals, two public waste disposals, and a filthy drifter beneath the weight of it's passage.

The African American smith got out, opening the door politely for his Servant, before closing and locking his mighty steed.

"Boris!" The ever-so-tolerant Russian roared a fast-paced string of instructions in Russian loud enough to be heard by everyone inside the UHOP and perhaps even outside the humble establishment's walls while adding Leo's funds to the register. Boris returned to the kitchen from his smoke break with a bucket of lard in one hand and a platter in the other, covered with a bottle and glasses of generous size. He set both aside for the moment and prepared the grill once more before heaping a load of bacon and pouring the bucket's contents onto the hot appliance. The eternally cheerful fry cook brought the platter out to the man at the counter and said, "Here you are going Ivan," before skulking back to his greasy lair to tend to the bacon.

Ivan took the platter and prepared a table for the customers, having quickly wiped it clean with a mottled rag. It wasn't long before the duo had a piping hot stack of pancakes and a bowl filled with horrendously greasy, crispy bacon before them for consumption. Tall glasses were filled with the wonderful mix of water and ethanol from the Motherland, too. Meanwhile, Rider violently emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor and passed out face-first on the table.

"Ha! I win this round!" Berserker heartily cheered as he stopped eating his stack of pancakes for the moment, only to begin taking the syrup-covered discs from Rider's stack and renew his face-stuffing rampage while Rider moaned in pitiful agony. Ivan eyed the scene warily from the counter and began leafing through the pages of a copy of Bear Wrestling Monthly. "I am not of cleanings that up." He stated in a dry tone of voice.

More pancake batter could be heard sizzling with patriotic fervor on the distant stove.

Click to shrink...

Tiffany strode through the door in time to witness this scene, pausing for a moment while he took it all in.

"Hey, Ivan." He called out to the Master of the restaurant, "I wanna open a tab. For the booze, and the pancakes."

After getting an answer from the man one way or the other, Tiffany folded his arms over his chest and approached the Berserker.

"You up for another round, fella?"

His hands reach down to his hips, and begin pulling, ever so slowly, the heavy wool clothing that shielded him from the flames he employed in his trade. As the covering articles were discarded, what was revealed was a chiseled mass of darkness, pure muscle rippling in a way that would be determined exceptional even among Heroic Spirits.

"Because a new challenger approaches."

 

[Bladestar123]

Tiffany smirked, flicking the engine on with the push of a button. The wonders of modern technology insured that only by having the right wireless signal, tied to his own magic circuits, could his beloved Fafnir be operated.

With a dull roar, the mighty steed took off, arriving at the UHOP within moments, having already crushed several small animals, two public waste disposals, and a filthy drifter beneath the weight of it's passage.

The African American smith got out, opening the door politely for his Servant, before closing and locking his mighty steed.


Tiffany strode through the door in time to witness this scene, pausing for a moment while he took it all in.

"Hey, Ivan." He called out to the Master of the restaurant, "I wanna open a tab. For the booze, and the pancakes."

After getting an answer from the man one way or the other, Tiffany folded his arms over his chest and approached the Berserker.

"You up for another round, fella?"

His hands reach down to his hips, and begin pulling, ever so slowly, the heavy wool clothing that shielded him from the flames he employed in his trade. As the covering articles were discarded, what was revealed was a chiseled mass of darkness, pure muscle rippling in a way that would be determined exceptional even among Heroic Spirits.

"Because a new challenger approaches."

Click to shrink...

She walked in at a distance behind, ever-so-slightly wrinkling her nose. So many people and not a hint of beaut - oh, two very pretty me - oh, no, they appeared to be be occupied with each other.

Shame. She'd take a better look at them - a much better look - when they weren't surrounded by sweaty muscles. Eurgh.

She preferred ladies anyway, they squirmed less. Walking past it all, she took a long circle around the group, and sat down at a booth, trying desperately not to gag from the body odor.

'These damned pancakes had better be worth it' she grumbled mentally. A magazine to her right caught her eye, from where it was clutched in the pass of one of the Tsarist bears. The ruskies, at least, were worthy of respect, no matter how far they had fallen from their terrifying roots. A slight dip of the head in respect, deeper still when she caught the title.

"Bear Wrestling Monthly"

Ahhh, it was like she was home again. She smiled a little and faced forwards, fighting the urge to bury her fingers into his skull.

The progression of time could be quite inconvenient. No matter. She hungered, and it seemed that the store could deliver. She would permit it to remain sta - my, there were a lot of servants in here.

Finally paying more attention to her senses, she noticed quite a few mana signatures. How odd. Was this some sort of peaceful meeting?

Well then, she'd not be the first to break it. If there was one thing she prized herself on, it was her skills. In education and seduction mostly, but diplomacy came a close third. Good enough.

 

[Fairborough]

"No, not yet. We don't really know what any other servants can do; I'd rather stay back and watch this chaos unfold, and figure out what they can do.

Click to shrink...

"If we're going to be sticking around to watch and you're not going to be fighting, stick close to me."

Mograine looks around, clearly on edge.

"Maybe we should go somewhere up high. I'm worried all this commotion has drawn Assassin in and we just haven't seen them yet."

 

[Borrowing]

"If we're going to be sticking around to watch and you're not going to be fighting, stick close to me."

Mograine looks around, clearly on edge.

"Maybe we should go somewhere up high. I'm worried all this commotion has drawn Assassin in and we just haven't seen them yet."

Click to shrink...

"Yeah... that would be a problem," agreed Saber, nodding his head. "So, will we climb up? Or do you want me to jump while carrying you?"

 

[Fairborough]

"Yeah... that would be a problem," agreed Saber, nodding his head. "So, will we climb up? Or do you want me to jump while carrying you?"

Click to shrink...

"It will be faster to just carry me up."

He turns his head, watching Archer deliver a truly brutal beat down to the hooligans, two of which were... also Servants?

"Quickly, now." Mograine says anxiously, "Looks like things are heating up."

 

[MrEgret]

The two gold thieves split up and started running in opposite directions. When Archer's furious steel judgement streaked forward to meet them, they struck excessively dramatic poses to ⌈ Dodge ⌋ the bullets.

Spoiler: Wise Up!

Status
Class: Archer(s)
Titles: ???
True Name: ???
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Class Skills
Independent Action (A+): The ability to act independently of one's Master, even without a supply of prana to support oneself. At this rank, a Servant can persist and even fight without a Master, even when using high-level Noble Phantasms. If the Servant is careful with his or her prana expenditure, then he or she can persist even after the Grail War.

Magic Resistance (C): The ability to resist magical effects. At this rank, the Servant is unaffected by spells consisting of chants of two verses and below. This Skill does not protect against High Thaumaturgy or Greater Rituals.

Personal Skills
Protection from Arrows (B): The ability to defend against ranged attacks via extraordinary means. At this level, as long as the ranged weapon is within the Servant's line of sight, he or she can defend against them. This skill does not work for extremely long-range weapons, or weapons with a large area of effect.

Noble Phantasms
???

Click to shrink...

Well, shit.

Taking down a bunch of human thieves was one thing, but a two-on-one Servant fight was definitely not part of the plan, especially at this early stage of the game. They looked like they were going in opposite directions, but that could just as easily be a setup for an ambush. Though Archer hated to do it, she should probably peel off for now.

Master, I've got a couple of Servants here with Protection from Arrows, she said over the link. I'm going to fall back for now, until we can form a better plan of attack.

She then ran towards one of the houses before bounding up onto the roof and away from the street. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw some suspicious character pull up in a BMW while she was slapping down those Servants' accomplices. It would probably be unwise to continue fighting in that area for the time being, especially if she needed her Noble Phantasms to take those other Servants down. Who knows who could be watching.

@Wizard_Marshall

 

[BlackHadou]

Sadly, it seemed Ruler's options were limited to:

A. Stealing pancakes from a ravenous Berserker
B. Stealing pancakes from a burly Russian
C. Stealing pancakes and vodka from a Lancer and his Master

Click to shrink...

...

Well, to a normal person, the sane option of 'find food elsewhere' may have presented itself. Angra Mainyu was not a normal person at all.

So he did what any intelligent person would. He appeared. He grasped the pancakes of a burly Russian who could probably snap him like a twig.

"Gotta go~!"

And he bolted like the wind!

 

[Borrowing]

"It will be faster to just carry me up."

He turns his head, watching Archer deliver a truly brutal beat down to the hooligans, two of which were... also Servants?

"Quickly, now." Mograine says anxiously, "Looks like things are heating up."

Click to shrink...

Saber nodded. He picked up Mograine in a Bridal Carry, rather easily all things considered, and braced his legs. Then he jumped onto a roof of a nearby house.

 

[The Out Of World]

...

Well, to a normal person, the sane option of 'find food elsewhere' may have presented itself. Angra Mainyu was not a normal person at all.

So he did what any intelligent person would. He appeared. He grasped the pancakes of a burly Russian who could probably snap him like a twig.

"Gotta go~!"

And he bolted like the wind!

Click to shrink...

Ivan stared at the spot where the strange child had appeared from thin air for several seconds after the matter, as if his brain was struggling to process what just happened. "дерьмо," he sighed and lit himself a cigarette. Poor Ivan wasn't getting paid enough for this shit.

Tiffany strode through the door in time to witness this scene, pausing for a moment while he took it all in.

"Hey, Ivan." He called out to the Master of the restaurant, "I wanna open a tab. For the booze, and the pancakes."

Click to shrink...

"You are wanting tab for vodka? Fine. But if you eat pancake, move over Giant Man and be taking his." The burly bear wrestling enthusiast gestured to the now-unconscious body of Rider. "He already pay for big stack and is not looking to be finish it. Mind vomit on floor, Boris is clean up later."

"You up for another round, fella?"

His hands reach down to his hips, and begin pulling, ever so slowly, the heavy wool clothing that shielded him from the flames he employed in his trade. As the covering articles were discarded, what was revealed was a chiseled mass of darkness, pure muscle rippling in a way that would be determined exceptional even among Heroic Spirits.

"Because a new challenger approaches."

Click to shrink...

"HA!" Berserker let loose a boisterous roar of approval and slammed his fist against the table jovially, causing the plates to rattle and the towers of pancakes to sway dangerously. "I like your fuckin' spirit, kid! But do you think you've got what it takes to keep up with a real hero?" The Servant reached over to grab Rider and casually flung him across the restaurant where he collided with the wall near Leonardo and Lancer. "Come on and see if you can impress the King, brat!"



"DON'T DISAPPOINT ME - IT'S TIME TO FEAST!"

 

[erlking]

"HAS THE MIGHTY FAFNIR MET YA BEFO-" He pondered for a moment while plowing through another garage wall, only to be met with the crack-thoom of thunder and lightning pelting him over and over again. "WAIT JUST A COTTON-PICKING MINUTE!" Fafnir peeled himself from the charred rubble and cupped a hand over his ear as if to magnify his hearing.

"THE MIGHTY FAFNIR RECOGNIZES THAT SOUND! IT'S THE SOUND OF GOLD A-JINGLING! HOLD ON GOLD, DADDY'S COMING FOR YA!" The dwarven juggernaut pivoted on his heel and restarted his demolition derby in the opposite direction, plowing through even more civilian residences in the most direct possible route to his swindled treasure.

Click to shrink...

"You COWARD! Master, I shall return after he has been dealt with!" With a great leap Archer launched himself from the car, releasing another set of arrows to chase the dwarf through the holes left in his wake. As he fell through the air the many many runes encasing his body burst away, and in a flash his true and giant form returned, leaving a large crater in the ground as he landed.

For a brief second he seemed to pause before he let out a roar himself, almost berseker like, before he joined the dragon in breaking his way through buildings. "GRAAAAAAGH! GET BACK HERE FAFNIR, SO I CAN BEFRIEND YOU!"

 

[EternalStruggle]

For a brief second he seemed to pause before he let out a roar himself, almost berseker like, before he joined the dragon in breaking his way through buildings. "GRAAAAAAGH! GET BACK HERE FAFNIR, SO I CAN BEFRIEND YOU!"

Click to shrink...

Wait, there he was!

I rounded the corner and a few others to spot, er, was that a Berserker? No, it seemed to be an Archer. Maybe, appearances could be deceiving. Well, time to intervene.

Although not the same size as the giant, I was still an imposing man. Large, well built and armored in medieval chain mail.

"NOT BEFORE YOU ANSWER SOME QUESTIONS OF MINE, FRIEND! WHAT'S GOING ON AROUND HERE THAT HAS YOU IN A HUFF?"

Step one: intelligence gathering.

 

[erlking]

Wait, there he was!

I rounded the corner and a few others to spot, er, was that a Berserker? No, it seemed to be an Archer. Maybe, appearances could be deceiving. Well, time to intervene.

Although not the same size as the giant, I was still an imposing man. Large, well built and armored in medieval chain mail.

"NOT BEFORE YOU ANSWER SOME QUESTIONS OF MINE, FRIEND! WHAT'S GOING ON AROUND HERE THAT HAS YOU IN A HUFF?"

Step one: intelligence gathering.

Click to shrink...

"I'm hunting a Dragon, but the coward is running away to chase after his gold. That will not do!" Archer answer's loudly as he bursts through one of the holes Fafnir had left, making it far larger in the process. Despite the rubble and clouds of dust that was pluming up around Archer as he briefly paused his run to shout in the direction of Saber.

"If you wish to continue the conversation, then join me in the chase. You're a hero, I'm certain you're worthy of hunting along side me!" At that, he readied himself to return to his run, small runes lighting up along his boots as he reinforced his body to chase down and catch the ugly dwarf despite the time he'd lose talking to Saber.