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How I Saved History (Fate/Grand Order SI)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Charles Flynn, Apr 22, 2020.

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  1. Reality_Impact

    Reality_Impact Abyssal Lurker

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    I sometimes forget that Hindu gods have weird skin colors, alwasy wondered why Karna was pale af
     
  2. nick012000

    nick012000 Gone for Good

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    There's also an ethnic group of white Indians in the north of India. Hitler called the Germanic people "Aryans" for a reason, you know.
     
    LazyGlutton, Charles Flynn and Darko like this.
  3. Threadmarks: Chapter 105
    Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    After our return, I climb out of my Klein Coffin, brush off any attempts to speak with me, and head off in the direction of my room with the intent of passing out and getting a decent night’s sleep, as is my custom after the completion of a Singularity.

    Unfortunately, that plan is interrupted by a familiar purple-haired figure placing herself in my way.

    “What is it now, Gala- sorry, Mash.” Dammit. Even when I know it’s her, I still call her by his name on accident! Dear God, I’m turning into my grandmother. Who I just now remembered is dead. Just like the rest of my family.

    Dammit, now I’m sad. Quick, happy thoughts. Let’s see what we’ve got.

    Puppies?

    All dead in the Incineration, non-starter.

    My books?

    Well, my entire personal library burned up in the Incineration, as did the vast majority of all printed literature.

    Solomon with his testicles in a vice?

    ….Okay, that one works.

    Gala- Wait, no, Mash, dammit, now I’m doing it even in my head, raps her knuckles against my forehead. “Enough daydreaming, Flynn. We need to properly debrief.”

    Wait, hold on a sec. I actually look at him, and yep, that’s still Galahad, fully armored and equipped, shield and all. “Why haven’t you given Mash her body back?”

    “I need to report what I noticed about Solomon.” Galahad informs me, heading off towards the commanders’ briefing room. “I can’t just let her relay my findings, her bias would get in the way.”

    “What bias?” I ask, following after him. “I would have thought she’d dislike Solomon as much as the rest of us.”

    “No, she doesn’t dislike him, although she does acknowledge him as an enemy,” Galahad shakes his head. “Honestly, she barely dislikes anybody. The girl’s too nice for her own good. But I was actually referring to her bias towards you. I noticed a lot of similarities between you and our enemy, and she might be reluctant to share those. For some reason, although for the life of me I can’t figure it out, she actually likes you and thinks you’re a good person.”

    “Yeah.” I sigh as I follow him into the briefing room. “I don’t get it either.”

    Georgios, Caesar, and Tamamo are all waiting for us in the briefing room, along with David for reasons that quickly become obvious when I think about them. Tamamo’s already in fox form, fast asleep and curled up into a fluffy ball. The others are all alert and look at me as I enter.

    I take a seat next to Caesar, near the head of the table, sighing as I do so. There’s really nothing quite like the pure sense of catharsis that is returning from a Singularity. When you sit down, you just feel every muscle in your body relax as the weight falls from your shoulders. Nothing else even comes close. Galahad takes the seat opposite me, and, after we’ve made ourselves comfortable, we set our eyes to the door and wait.

    We only have to wait a few minutes before Roman, Da Vinci, and Romulus join us, and we begin the meeting, with Romulus taking the minutes.

    “I believe that you all know what we’re here to discuss,” Roman begins from the head of the table.

    “Solomon.” I say.

    “The entity claiming to be Solomon, yes.” Roman stresses, looking around. “As you yourself pointed out, the act of incinerating the entirety of Humanity seems wildly out of character for someone commonly revered as the most virtuous and wise king to ever live. We should at least consider the possibility of an imposter.”

    “Bit overly superlative, there.” I remark.

    “Let’s not restart this debate.” Georgios interrupts, placing himself between us before Roman can make a retort. “I don’t think that any of us have three hours to kill.”

    “For what it’s worth, I agree with Roman wholeheartedly,” David says. “I may not have gotten to know my son as well as I should’ve, or spent as much time with him as I ought’ve, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my son would never do something like this. He was a good man. That much, I know with absolute certainty.”

    Roman coughs. “I- I’m going to need to get some water. Da Vinci, take over.” He hurries out, leaving us all staring after him in confusion.

    “Well, okay, then.” I say after a moment, drawing all eyes towards me. “Let’s look to see if Roman’s imposter theory is correct.” I turn to Da Vinci. “Do you have recordings of our encounter with Solomon?”

    “Yes, actually. Putting them up on the screen now.”

    After the recording is done, I look at David. “So. King David. How does his behavior match up compared to your memory of your son?”

    “I didn’t know him as well as I should have, to be honest. Nathan and Bathsheba did the lion’s share of raising him while I was off running the kingdom. I was… barely around.” He sighs, lost in the regrets of yesteryear. “But, all the same, whenever we met, he was always polite and considerate. Nathan told me about how Solomon would plan out every minute of his day, even when he was a toddler, using each and every second to better himself and bring happiness to the people around him. It’s why I chose him to be my successor. I whole-heartedly believed that he would be a responsible and virtuous king.” He chuckles. “Unlike his old man.”

    “So, you don’t think it’s him?”

    “No. I didn’t think that was him before, and I’m even more convinced that it isn’t him now. The Solomon you met moved and talked like a showman, and nothing like my son.”

    “So. Imposter theory is looking more likely, now.” I observe, thinking things over. “The most likely candidate would be the demon Asmodeus. There are stories concerning how he impersonated Solomon.”

    “I’d also like to point something out, here.” Galahad says, raising his hand. “I noticed that for the entire conversation, Solomon, or Asmodeus, or whatever, was copying your usual body language when you’re on one of your over-exaggerated speeches. Beyond that, the way his inflections and pronunciation matched yours almost perfectly. He was even acting like you.”

    “I don’t- well actually,” now that I think of it, he did sound kind of familiar. I just didn’t notice because I was scared shitless at the time. “Okay, so, he was copying me.”

    “And Georgios.” Galahad adds. “When he started actually paying attention to Georgios, instead of just dismissing him as window dressing like he did with me, his body language, behavior, and inflections shifted. He started acting more like a mix between Georgios and you. He was calmer, his movements and expressions less frantic and exaggerated, and he actually treated you with more respect. From this, I’d have to gather that he tends to unconsciously mimic the mannerisms and personality of those he’s engaging with.”

    “That’s actually a decent hypothesis. And one I might be able to exploit. Alright, let’s keep going, people. What can we infer from what we’ve observed thus far?”

    We continue to discuss what the entity posing as Solomon’s true nature might be, and finally devise a working theory: The demon Asmodeus, who’s most likely some sort of incubus, must’ve hijacked Solomon’s body after he perished. I also brought up the high probability that Solomon was a Grand Servant (so glad I read through those files alongside Anderson,) and so the resulting incubus-human hybrid, if he successfully inherited Solomon’s abilities, might also qualify for the Grand Caster position, significantly boosting his abilities.

    I have no idea why Roman started laughing when we told him our theory, though.

    ---​

    The days that follow are slower-paced, and I certainly feel more relaxed than I did before. I go through my routine of resummoning our losses against Asmodeus/Solomon and surveilling/checking up on my various Servants (Mozart’s lounge is actually open for business now,) accompanied by Mash. I only call her Galahad twice. Progress! Mostly, though, I study, go through the motions, and try to work up the courage to ask Medea to teach me poisons.

    But my routine is thrown off-kilter when I open my door in the morning and find myself face-to-face with King David, Spartacus, Erik Bloodaxe, and all three of the Chul Kids.

    “Is this a mutiny?” I ask, already thinking over which of my escape strategies to use. “Because I’m open to petitions, no need to resort to violence immediately.”

    David, the obvious leader of this possible insurrection, blinks in confusion before shaking his head. “No, actually. I was getting some of the guys together to help me with something, and I was wondering if you’d join us.”

    “Is this a sex thing?”

    “Nah. Well, maybe. But not for me.”

    “I’m closing the door now.” I begin to do so, but he catches it before it can slide all the way shut.

    “Wait!” he takes a deep breath, looks me dead in the eye, and tells it to me straight. “I want you to help me get Roman and Da Vinci together.”





    “What.”

    “I think they’d be really good together, and they’re obviously attracted to one another, but they won’t get together unless someone gives them a push. Mostly because Roman doesn’t have the balls to be honest about his feelings, and Da Vinci’s waiting for him to ask. Come on, man!”

    “And… why are you doing this?” I ask pointedly.

    “Didn’t I just-“

    “You told me a lot of things. But you didn’t tell me about why you care enough to do this.”

    “He feels like my son, okay?” David admits after a long, uncomfortable silence. “I know it’s irrational, but he just reminds me a lot of Solomon. The real Solomon, that is. He’s giving everything he’s got, everything he has, all to help the people around him, but I’m worried he’s not happy himself. I just… I don’t want him to end up as some burnt-out, basement-dwelling nervous wreck that can’t even go to the bathroom without asking his creepy nihilistic internet idol for advice, you know?”

    “That’s worryingly plausible. He’s already so attached to the damn thing that it’s borderline disturbing.”

    “So, will you help me?” he asks hopefully.

    “Sure. Two conditions, though: One, we bring Mash in on this, because it sounds like something she’d have fun with, and two, we run our plan through Mata Hari. She’s pretty good with this sort of thing.”

    “Done and done.” David agrees with a confident smirk.

    “So, what’s the plan?”

    “We don’t have one, yet. That was actually what I needed your help with.”

    “Okay, yeah.” I sigh, pushing my glasses up so I can pinch the bridge of my nose. “Let me get out of my sleepwear and into my uniform, and then we can go talk to Mata Hari.”

    ---
    We run into Mash along the way, and she’s easily persuaded to help. Mata Hari is even more easily persuaded.

    Our plan swiftly takes shape, under Mata Hari’s sage tutelage. David’s original suggestion of locking the two of them together in a closet somewhere is refined and reformed into something far more likely to succeed: We’ll lure them out to a table we’ve reserved at Mozart’s new lounge by telling each of them that the other wants to meet them there.

    “I’ll talk to Da Vinci.” David says as we finally begin deciding who does what. “The Chul Kids-“ so glad that nickname caught on- “will be in charge of setting up the reservation and making sure there’ll be absolutely no interruptions.” He turns to me, face grave. “Charlie, Mash, Spartacus, and Erik, you’ll be responsible for getting Roman. Toss him in a sack and drag him back, if you have to.”

    “That’s way too much!” Mash objects with a gasp.

    “I concur. Seems a little too extreme, if you ask me.” I say, nodding in agreement.

    “He hasn’t taken a day off in months.” David informs us with a frown. “He’s been working seven days a week nonstop to keep Chaldea afloat, and it’s taking its toll. This is for his own good.”

    “Alright. I’ll bring the sack.”

    Mash is looking a bit uncomfortable, but honestly, I’m looking forwards to this whole thing. Win or lose, this is gonna be fun.

    ---​

    “So.” I look at the Berserkers as we make our way over to Roman’s office. “How’d David talk you two into this?”

    “He informed me that Dr. Roman was oppressing himself, and that he was worried for his health!” Spartacus bellows. “All oppression must be ended, especially that which is self-directed! There can be no greater oppressor than one’s own self.”

    “RAAAAAAAAAAARG! MURDER! BLOOD! BLOODY MURDER! GUNNHILD THOUGHT THEY’D BE A CUTE COUPLE! EAT ALL THE SPLEEEEEEEENS!”

    “Fair enough.” I look back to the hallway. “All right, there’s his office up ahead. Mash, you’re with me. Spartacus and Erik, wait outside with the sack.”

    I swing the door open wide and walk right on in, noting with amusement how Roman jumps at my entrance.

    “Hey Doc!” I call in greetings. “Got a message from Da Vinci for you.”

    “Is it another request for a budget increase?” he asks, eyes bloodshot. He looks like he hasn’t changed his clothes in days. Or shaved, for that matter. “Because I keep telling her, even if we don’t really have a money economy anymore, things still have value. I can’t do it!”

    “Nope. She wants you to clean yourself up and meet her down in the new lounge. She has something important to tell you.”

    “I’ll go there, then.” He says, rising.

    I hold up a hand to stop him. “Not now, around five. Take some time, change your clothes, shower, shave, and maybe a]get a little shut-eye, then go and see her.”

    He stops, staring at me suspiciously over the bags beneath his eyes. “This is David trying to set me up again, isn’t it? He’s trying to get me to stop working.”

    “He has good intentions in mind.” I protest. “You really don’t look all that well.”

    “I’m fine!” he snaps.

    “Romulus, when was the last time he left this office?”

    Roman’s assistant looks up from his desk in the corner, the corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly upwards in amusement. “When he left for the debrief after the London Singularity ended. He’s been stuck in here ever since. He uses the private bathroom to do his business, sleeps perhaps two hours a day, and has been making Romam bring him donuts and coffee to keep him going. In truth, Roma was beginning to grow deeply concerned.”

    “Right. SPARTACUS!” As the Berserker kicks down the door and proceeds to stuff Roman into the sack, I turn to Romulus, who seems to be holding back laughter. “Hold down the fort while he’s out, willya?”

    “Of course.”

    “Erik! Guard the door. Don’t let him back in for the next twenty-four hours.”

    “BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”

    “I’m not hearing a yes.”

    “BLOOD MEANS YES!”

    “Good to know. All right gang, let’s roll out!” And with that, Spartacus, Mash, and I all head off in the direction of Roman’s room, with a struggling sack full of Roman slung over Spartacus’ shoulder.

    When we get there, we let Roman out of the sack. He lies on the ground sputtering for a bit, before getting indignantly to his feet.

    “I don’t care if you think this is for my own good, I’m NOT GOING!” he snaps. “I have work that needs to be done, I don’t have time to go on a date.”

    “Alright then.” I concede easily, prompting a shocked yelp from both of my co-conspirators. “If you really don’t want to go out with Da Vinci, I suppose it would be unethical to force you to do so. Shame, too. I really do think she cared about you. She’ll be fairly disappointed.”

    “Oh. W-Well, it’s not that I don’t want to date her, it’s that I, well, I just don’t have the time for that sort of thing.” He stammers out, looking completely thrown. “But, well, I guess I should go back to the office, then.”

    “Sure. I’ll just go and tell Da Vinci that you’d rather spend your time with Magi*Mari than with her.” I say as he walks past me, doing my damnedest to hide my smirk.

    “Wait, what?” Roman yelps, turning on his heels with a look of absolute horror on his face. “It’s not like that at all!”

    “Are you sure?” I ask, my smirk breaking its bonds and shining forth in full bloom. “It certainly seemed that way to me. But, well, if you’re certain it’s only because you don’t have the time and not because you don’t have feelings for her…” he’s nodding along vigorously. “…I’ll just have to tell David he’s free to make his move on her.” He freezes.

    “WHAT?”

    “Oh, you didn’t know? He’s had his eye on her for a while. He just wanted to make sure he didn’t cut you off.” A patented lie, of course, but jealousy is a powerful motivator. “But, if you’re too busy, I guess he’s free to press his suit.”

    “LIKE HELL HE IS!” Roman snaps, opening the door to his room and storming on in. “HE THINKS HE CAN JUST MOVE ON IN BECAUSE I HAVE AN ACTUAL WORK ETHIC? JOKE’S ON HIM, I’M GOING! AND I’M SHOWING HER THE BEST DAMN NIGHT OF HER LIFE!”

    I wait until I hear the shower start running before I turn to Mash and Spartacus, who are both staring at me for some reason. “Alright, I think that’s our mission accomplished. We’ll escort him to the date, of course, but the hard part’s pretty much done.”

    “You’re scary, Senpai.”

    “Nah, I’m nothing special. You guys want to hit up the cafeteria after this? Tamamo’s trying out a new buffalo wings recipe.”

    And that’s that. From what I hear from Hundred Face (who hears all the gossip,) the date goes pretty well.

    They go on another one the next week.
     
    Last edited: Jul 10, 2020
  4. Ryven Razgriz

    Ryven Razgriz Not too sore, are you?

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    Ah yes, the dreaded and coveted shipping and dating wars.
     
  5. Bear_Mint

    Bear_Mint The LewdBringer. The Breast Observer.

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    LMAO. That's one way to motivate a workaholic into taking a break. Using one of man's oldest fears; someone stealing yo girl.
     
  6. Delta Green

    Delta Green Know what you're doing yet?

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    No, the Emperor was Georgios.

    Who, as you may have noticed, just realized the powerboost of a sizeable fraction of (surviving) Humanity associating his legend with the Master of Mankind, the most powerful human being to ever exist.

    Additionally, I will never grow tired of David trying his best to be a good dad.
     
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2020
  7. caprica12

    caprica12 Getting out there.

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    I just finished to read this today, and I have to say, I am glad I joined this site! This story is so good and I'm gonna list my favorite Takes(tm) here:
    * Your take on the Master of Chaldea was interesting, with the lack of Guda's charisma but the sass, ruthlessness and cutting realism necessary to save the world, and common sense of bafflement and horror and lack of interest in harem... or women... or men. The unicorn!
    * The relationships what would form because of that. Charles fucking up his PR all over the place, specially in the beginning (and him not knowing the Shit We The Readers Know and so we internally scream at him all over the fic, example n.1 david and roman). Him not having that much contact with Mash was surprising, because Guda-Mashu friendship is almost a guarantee in a FGO fic. Wonder how THAT is gonna pan out.
    * Goetia's everything was so unexpected????? Him mirroring the personalities of the people in front of him was some interesting af meta. Goetia with Charles' sass was so surprising I was like ???? but I like it a lot anyway, ti was so funny. Goetia was so funny and scary and kind of a dick.
    * Also Roman and Da Vinci getting together (on a date at least)!??!? That was super nice, specially with Charles unknowingly using Roman's dad as a blunt weapon lol. (can you imagine Goetia finding out his dad getting in a serious relationship????)
    Anyway I love this story, thanks for sharing it!
     
  8. Threadmarks: Chapter 106
    Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Two days after David showed up at my door, I've finally mustered up enough courage. I tell Mash that I'm not going to need her help today, and that, if I die horribly, it was probably Medea's fault.

    Then, after having to spend about an hour calming Mash down and reassuring her that I was just being overly dramatic, I head off to visit Medea.

    She answers on the second knock. "Another document you need help translating?"

    "No, actually." I say, and she makes a noise of discontentment. "I actually wanted to ask you for a favor."

    "Oh?" her eyes harden. "What sort of favor?"

    "I need you to teach me poisons."

    She looks at me appraisingly. "and why, pray tell, would you want to know this?"

    "Because, as it stands, I'm helpless. Especially once this whole business wraps up, and Chaldea cuts me loose, without any Servants. I need to know how to defend myself. Force of arms is out of the question, I'm not strong physically or skilled with weapons, and I'd be outclassed by any Mysteries they brought to bear. Magecraft's out too, it's a pointless, dying art that needs ten generations of eugenics or some ridiculously improbable bullshit coincidences to do anything remotely impressive. The only thing I've got going for me are my wits and my ability to talk my way out of things. I need an equalizer. And what's poison if not the universal equalizer?"

    "As good a reason as any, I suppose," she notes, a grin creeping its way across her face as she turns and bids me to follow her in. I do so, albeit cautiously. The room is dimly lit, and larger than it was on the floor plan. Various components are scattered across the steel tables she's set up, which I'm pretty sure she stole from the cafeteria, all the ingredients methodically organized and lined up by type. It's honestly a lot more tidy than I pictured it being. In one corner, a row of three large glass tubes stand, each filled to the brim with a sort of thick, black fluid that almost seems to writhe when I look at it.

    Medea rounds on me. "If you are to enter my tutelage, then it will be as my apprentice. You will refer to me as 'Master,' and abide by the rules I lay out for you." She points to the tubes. "First rule, no touching the hydra blood. Ever."

    "Okay, a few quibbles. First, calling you 'Master' might get confusing. Second, why are you cultivating hydra blood in here? That stuff's insanely poisonous!"

    "No, actually."

    "What?"

    "Consider this my first lesson to you, my apprentice: Hydra blood isn't deadly because it contains some form of poison. It's deadly because it possesses the same healing factor as the rest of the hydra." she walks up to the tubes, rapping her knuckles against the glass. "It goes inert and dries up when it's outside a living creature, but the individual cells can remains alive for years. Then, when they're introduced into a living organism, the healing factor reactivates, and they grow and multiply until..." she mimes an explosion. "Pop. Because it's not technically a poison, it can actually bypass most resistances." She pauses. "And you can call me 'Teacher' if 'Master' would be too confusing."

    That's... honestly terrifying and incredibly useful. "So, how are these lessons going to work, teach?"

    "Well, meet with me each morning, at... shall we say ten?" she seems to think it over. "I'll teach you the same way I learned. I'll show you various poisons, and teach you how to make both them and their antidote."

    "Alright, sounds good."

    "And then I'll try to poison you once you've left, and are going about your day."

    "What?"

    "I'll try to poison you, and you'll have to either avoid it, or make the antidote yourself. I'll expect you to return the favor once you've grown sufficiently confident in your skills."

    "This seems wildly unsafe!" I protest.

    "Oh, don't worry, I won't let you die." she assures me, actually smiling. "But I wouldn't recommend letting that soothe your caution. Most of my poisons are very painful."

    "....is it too late to call this off?"

    Her grin rises to a whole new level of pure sadism. "Yes."

    This… may have been a terrible mistake.

    ---​

    And so my new routine begins. Wake up, greet Mash, get breakfast (with utmost caution,) and then head to Medea's room for my lessons.

    Afterwards, make my way through the day, managing and keeping an eye on the Servants, studying in preparation for later Singularities, and, of course, summoning reinforcements/more staff. All while keeping an eye out for poisons, of course.

    She still gets me more often than not, but I'm getting better at spotting them.

    And as I settle into this new order of monotony, punctuated by daily assassination attempts from my utter psycho of a teacher, I do manage to summon a few new Servants. (And get kidnapped by a dragon and fight a Grail War in my dream. That was a weird one. On the plus side, though, I did get Sieg out of it.)

    ---
    "Lancer. True Name Houzuin Inshun. My spear, honed through countless years of seeking inner peace amidst a world of conflict, will strike down your enemies for you."

    "Welcome, then, mighty spearman." I say politely, whilst internally screaming. Seriously, how many different masters of hitting things can this damn system throw at us? It's great that we're basically getting together an army of the greatest heroes of all time, but having an army doesn't mean shit when you can only field them six at a time! Instead, most of them just end up sitting around doing busywork at Chaldea, and I'm stuck running around between them, soothing tempers and making sure our army of special little superhuman snowflakes doesn't end up doing us in, with more at every summon! I can guarantee right now that I will most likely never use this guy. Because there's only so many real variations on master of sticking pointy bits of metal in the enemy until they die one can follow before they become completely redundant!

    But we need to try and get some more people actually good at things other than killing aboard, so here I am, summoning away. And no matter how much I want to, I can't just kill a guy for being annoying and redundant. So instead I keep up my smile, and direct him to Doctor Roman, whilst internally praying that the next one is either somebody useful or someone I can kill without anybody giving me shit over it.

    The next Servant we summon is Lu Bu. Thank God.
    ---​

    "Servant Saber!" the broad, muscular man with no shirt announces at the top of his lungs. "True Name Fergus mac Roich. I go wherever the wine and women are worth my while. Try not to disappoint."

    …we are going to get so many lawsuits. And we're probably going to run out booze again. At least Cu'll be happy. "Save us all some time and just go straight to the bar, all right? Because you're probably not going to be able to do any of the jobs that are still available." I pause hopefully. "Unless you're willing to work as a janitor?"

    He gives a great booming laugh. "The only reason I'm not killing you for even suggesting that is because you're offering free booze. Don't even think about asking that of me again."

    "Yeah, thought as much."
    ---​

    "Mister Flynn. It's good to see you again, I suppose." Jekyll notes. "I have been summoned as an Assassin."

    "Good! We could definitely use a few more doctors around here. Roman's overworked enough as it is."

    "So I see. Are you aware that your uniform is covered in dry blood?"

    "Yeah, I was vomiting it up for an hour this morning. My fault really. I should have expected that she'd poison my glass, instead of what I was drinking. Anyways, I didn't have time to change, since I was already running late. Sorry if it's unprofessional."

    "You were poisoned?" Jekyll asks, a single hand over his mouth in genteel dismay. "By who?"

    "Medea. It's no big deal, really, she does it almost every day. You get used to it, after a while."

    Jekyll is staring at me in blank incomprehension, so I decide to speed up the onboarding. "Anyways, welcome to Chaldea. Go see Dr. Roman for your work assignment."

    He does so, keeping an incredulous eye on me as he leaves. Cu is snickering from where he stands guard.

    "Alright Marjani, fire it up!"
    ---​

    The redhead in green materializes on the summoning pad, looking thoroughly exhausted. "Servant Archer. True Name Robin Hood." He lets out a sigh, a fairly involved one that goes all the way to his shoulders. "Try not to work me too hard, alright?"

    I squeal like a little girl.
    ---​

    "Charles-Henri Sanson." the pale, stoic man announces. "I'm not much of a good man, to be sure, but by your order, I will stand besides you, and destroy all wickedness which stands against you."

    "Excellent! We needed another doctor." I say cheerfully.

    He looked a bit perplexed at that. Or maybe he's just confused by the rampaging unicorn which is currently goring Cu (spandex Lancer,) sliding him up and down its blood-slicked horn.

    "Do you... perhaps need help with that?" he asks cautiously, as Georgios and Cursed Arm take out the beast's rear legs with practiced ease, and Cu gouges out its right eye with his bare hands.

    "Nah. It's the third one this week. By this point, we've basically got killing 'em down to a science." I pause. "Might need you to patch up Cu after you're done, though."

    "And you.. didn't let a rampaging unicorn interrupt your summoning." he observes, looking at me with newfound caution.

    "'Course not. This isn't even the worst summoning mishap we've had. That position would actually be a tie between the time we accidentally summoned the Red Sea, and the time the system tried to summon a Reality Marble." I pause. "Turns out that trying to independently manifest somebody's mental world just makes the summoning matrix explode. Da Vinci patched that, though, so now it's mostly safe."

    "You seem remarkably calm about this." he says, looking at me with outright concern. "Almost cheerful, actually."

    "Yeah, well, I am kind of riding high on not getting poisoned today." I say with a grin. "Of course she'd poison my shampoo! That's textbook her!"

    He mutters something about crazy Americans under his breath in French. "I'll just go see Dr. Roman, if that's alright with you."

    "Fine by me." I turn back to the ongoing struggle. "GO FOR THE THROAT, CU!"
    ---​

    "Servant Saber." the tall, white-haired man in ornate silvery armor says, his features solemn. "My True Name is Siegfried, son of Siegmunde, and slayer of the dragon Fafnir." he dips his head. "My apologies for burdening you with so weak a Servant as myself."

    "You? Weak?" I break out laughing. "Sorry buddy, but I've read the Saga of the Volsungs. Don't sell yourself short like that."

    This is great. Sure, Sigurd was my second-least-favorite Volsung, but at the same time, he's easily one of the strongest heroes I could've possibly summoned, even if he seems to prefer the German version of his name for some reason.

    "Ah. I'm sorry, Master. I am the hero of the Niebelunglied alone. I have no connection to the greatest of the Volsungs."

    "WHAT."

    "Sigurd and I are two entirely separate people." he reiterates. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

    "HOW? YOUR STORIES ARE ALMOST EXACTLY THE FUCKING SAME!" I rant, my eye twitching as I froth at the mouth.

    "I'm afraid I don't know how." Siegfried says. "Perhaps we were originally the same person, but the various cultural interpretations of our legend caused us to diverge into separate individuals?"

    "Yeah." I say, managing to calm myself down. "I guess that makes sense."

    "I'm glad, Master. I'm sorry to have troubled you so."

    "So you've said. Repeatedly. It's rapidly getting old." I push my glasses up to pinch the bridge of my nose, in an attempt stop my growing headache. It doesn't help, which is making me think Medea might've poisoned me again. Or it might be tied to the fact that I didn't just summon the second-most boring Volsung there was, I summoned his overly-apologetic German knockoff.

    At least his stats are pretty good, and that Armor of Fafnir of his is an extremely valuable asset.

    "Go see Dr. Roman, he'll get you set up." I try to turn back towards the summoning platform, and then promptly fall flat on my face as the world goes all spinny. "And carry me to the infirmary. I've been poisoned. Again."​
     
    Last edited: Jan 8, 2021
  9. Reven

    Reven Versed in the lewd.

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    Wow he is dying for Emiya Huh the one guy that would happily be the cook janitor and overall maintaince guy.
     
  10. Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Indeed. But, if my summoning luck holds, he's not getting everyone's favorite superhero/chef/janitor anytime soon.

    He's also literally dying from Medea's various poisoning attempts most days, even if she always gives him the antidote before it goes too far. It has not helped his overall mood.
     
  11. Estes

    Estes Getting out there.

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    Doesn't Galahad have a skill that makes him immune to poison?
     
  12. Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Yeah, but that only works when Galahad is manifested and nearby. And it's not actually completely unbeatable. There are some substances, like Hydra blood, which can bypass it.
     
  13. Reven

    Reven Versed in the lewd.

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    Well While funny Medea is being a sadist about this. If not for the bullshit level doctors on hand he'd be dead even with an antidote. The human liver can only take so much and some poisons leave lasting damage even if given the an antidote because they target certain areas of the body or organs.

    Also some for poisons the only antidote is another poison that cancels each other out.

    Where is serenity? Has she not been summoned yet? I am pretty sure she'd choke medea out before taking you aside and giving you proper lessons.

    After all, Serenity is the poison expert and is much more advanced than anything Medea could have encountered in her life.

    For the Posioning to work out like it does she would have to take into account not only the poison given but if the new poison would interact with any poison or antidote still in your system.
     
  14. Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    She's actually just using the horns from all the various unicorns that have been summoned and killed. Their magical properties effectively allow them to delete all poisons in a specific area from reality.

    Beyond that, I should probably point out that Medea is a self-taught poisoner. She's functionally a very gifted amateur, and never taught a student in her life.
     
  15. caprica12

    caprica12 Getting out there.

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    I have to say that Medea in this chapter is both a terrible teacher and also the MVP. I am with Sanson in this one, life in Chaldea is WEIRD. But well, at least is becoming Charles' new normal, bc it's going to get even WEIRDER.
    Siegfried is here :))))) Nice to see you, man.

    About past chapters:
    * I loved how you made Frankestein an entire different character and give him depth and breath, and the Baggage confrontation was *chef kiss* brilliant and bringing however briefly the sheer fridge horror of the Servant system to the front.
    * David with red hair was also a 100+ move.

    Now that I think about it, Charles could start calling Goetia, by lack of a proper name to call him, Asmodemon. Both a pun AND a Digimon reference.
     
  16. Threadmarks: Chapter 107
    Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    It's been three weeks since London, and that's more than long enough for another staff meeting.

    I walk in and take my seat amidst the hostile and fearful looks of my coworkers. Roman arrives not long after, taking a seat at the head of the table.

    "All right, people," Roman begins. "It's been a while since our last meeting, and since then, a lot of issues have cropped up."

    "And all of them are almost entirely his fault!" Tom interjects, pointing at me.

    "What?" I exclaim, raising an eyebrow. "Name one example of a problem I've caused."

    "Medea." he says with a glare. One that most of the table joins in on.

    "Hey, I'm as much of a victim in that one as you are."

    He laughs. "Hey, Flynn, remember that muffin you gave me yesterday?"

    "Oh, yeah. I wanted to see if it was poisoned."

    "It was."

    "Oh. Neat. Could you please describe your symptoms for me?"

    "I think what they're trying to say is that these... volleying master-apprentice poisoning attempts of yours have gone too far." Roman says, doing his best to be soothing. "Too many people keep getting caught in the crossfire, and even though you say they're all only Medea's, I'm pretty sure that at least half of them are yours."

    "Outrageous slander," I protest. "Name one incident that you think I might've had a hand in."

    "That time every showerhead in Chaldea except yours was poisoned?" Roman's voice is dry as the Sahara as he accuses me.

    "Lies and calumny. Come on, would I really lie about something like this?" I ask.

    "YES!" Everyone at the table shouts.

    "And it's not like the war of the poisons has done any real harm so far. Once I figured out the unicorn trick, the poisonings could be cured almost instantly with no damage to the affected system." Which actually played a big part in my 'poison everybody and then cure everyone but Medea' strategy.

    "Sarah Davis is pregnant." Roman announces.

    "What?" Isn't she one of the bridge staff?

    "She started drowning her sorrows in alcohol and sex after the Incineration," Roman informs me. "We ran out of contraceptives two months ago, and she didn't stop."

    A few of the other staff members, male and female alike, are looking suddenly terrified.

    "She's not sure whether she wants to keep it, yet, but if you keep up those poisoning wars of yours, she won't get a choice." Roman says, his eyes hard as he looks straight at me. "So stop."

    "Message received. I'll tell Teacher."

    "Good. Now, on to the next issue: We're running low on supplies again. Mostly because of Charlie and Medea burning through them in their constantly escalating attempts to kill one another."

    "Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

    "Shut up, Charlie."

    "Shutting up."

    "Good. Now, we've identified a new Micro-Singularity to raid..."

    ---​

    "Teacher, I've got a cease-and-desist order from Roman." I announce when Medea opens the door. "We have to stop poisoning each other."

    "What? Why?"

    "One of the bridge crew got pregnant, and he's worried we'll get her in the crossfire."

    "Who?"

    "Sarah Davis." I pause. "I don't know precisely who she is, to be honest."

    She grabs me by the wrist and drags me inside. "Assemble a bouquet while I go get changed."

    "Um... why?"

    "We need to go congratulate her, of course!" she says, walking over into her bedroom and closing the door.

    I look over what's available. "Do you have any flowers in here that aren't poisonous?"

    "No! Just pick the least poisonous ones!"

    I shrug, and get to it.

    ---​

    "Sarah Davis?" I ask.

    "Yes, who's aski-" she turns and freezes.

    "Hey! We just came to congratulate you!" I say with a smile and a wave that, for some reason, don't put her at ease.

    "Ah-That's... nice..." she squeaks out, her face still pale as she limply accepts the bouquet of nightshade and poinsettias I press into her hands. "Who's 'we?'"

    "Oh, we haven't been introduced!" Medea chimes in, grabbing Susan's other hand and shaking it. She's changed out of her hood into a turtleneck and a set of jeans that suit her fairly well. "I'm Medea. It's a pleasure to meet you! If you ever need any help during the pregnancy, feel free to ask. I've been through it myself, six times, and I know what it's like, but I also know a lot of remedies that can ease the whole thing along."

    Sarah lets out a prolonged whimper, and then keels over in a dead faint.

    Medea and I look at each other.

    "Do you think she's not eating enough?" Medea asks at last.

    "No idea. Let's just drop her off at the infirmary, and then head on over to the Servant Briefing."

    ---​

    And so it is that I step out onto the stage, Mash at my right hand as always.

    "Alright. people." I say, looking out over my audience. "You know the drill by now. Chaldea needs supplies, and we're off to get them, by force if we have to. As to the location..."

    The screen behind me flickers on, showing the Seven Hills.

    "We're going back to Rome."
     
  17. caprica12

    caprica12 Getting out there.

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    Reality ensues, uh? I wonder how that one will go.
    I am with Sarah on this one, even if I don't if she fainted out of panic or excitment.
    And Rome! Ah, the memories... not all of them pleasing...
     
  18. Potates

    Potates Degenerate Spud

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    Flynn will get a smack on the wrist, justify it to himself by saying he's an asshole, and continue to be a twat that creates more unnecessary problems by being a twat while never actually taking responsibility for it.

    To be fair to Rome and Nero, see above comment.
     
  19. Darko

    Darko Connoisseur.

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    Are they going to meet Augustus now?

    Charlies inner self is going to happy dance until his feet bleed!

    "Teach me Augustus sempai!"

    ...

    ... We all know that if he featured in the source material that someone was going to say that.
     
  20. ErickTheRed

    ErickTheRed God-Emperor of Mankind

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    Charlie just need to bring Romulus and Caesar with him and the roman will keel over themselves and give them all the riches in ROMAAAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for ROMA !!!!!!
     
  21. Delta Green

    Delta Green Know what you're doing yet?

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    Augustus:... If you think I'm giving you back my inheritance, you've got another thing coming, uncle.
     
  22. Darko

    Darko Connoisseur.

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    Hey at least you won't get burned on social media because you employee him.

    You know, because most of humanity is dead.

    Hey, don't insult German products. They're some of the most efficient and long lasting on the market.

    So, Charlie and Medea are now basically the Gomez and Morticia of Chaldea?

    You know I don't think anyone ever made this connection before, but this story and its characters remind me a bit of this:



    Charlie is both Otto and Larry, because of his love of history and snarky nature, while Galahad is more like Tuddrussell, because he tends to physically hurt Charlie and hates him.
     
  23. nick012000

    nick012000 Gone for Good

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    So, I wonder who the father is? If it weren't for the fact I'm unsure if male Servants are capable of impregnating human women, I'd totally suspect it was Cu Chullain or one of the other boozehound womanizer Servants.

    Well, at least she's got Medea to act as her midwife. I think that Medea only had two children, though? Were the other four girls, or did she have more children during her "evil witch" phase after she'd murdered her first two sons? *checks wikipedia* "Various sources state that Jason and Medea had between one and fourteen children" Huh. Apparently she did have a son with Theseus's dad after the child-murder incident, though.
     
    Last edited: Jul 13, 2020
  24. Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    They're unsure on the identity of the father, mostly because they don't know in-universe whether it's possible for male Servants to sire offspring. If it is, however, the most likely candidate would be Cu Chullain.

    As for Medea being the midwife, that's not exactly a comfort for her. Charlie's one of the only people in Chaldea that actually talks to Medea on a semi-regular basis. The rest of the living staff just view her as somebody to be avoided at all costs.
     
  25. Threadmarks: Chapter 108
    Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    We file into the Rayshift Chamber. My team for this mission, Georgios, Cursed Arm, Yan Qing, Romulus, Caesar, and Medea, all climb into their Klein Coffins.

    We’re heading back to the time of Imperator Caesar Augustus. When Rome was unified, with the most singularly capable emperor of the entire Julio-Claudian dynasty at its head. No wonder this Singularity would have resolved itself without our intervention.

    But we need supplies, so here we are, sticking our noses in and meddling when we’re not needed.

    “Senpai!” Mash calls out.

    “Mash! Are you joining us on this one?” I ask, a bit uneasily. I remember damn well what happened the last time she went along on one of these.

    “Galahad insisted,” my self-proclaimed assistant says. “He said that letting you go off without him to keep an eye on you would be a mistake, and he needs to talk to you anyways.”

    “Oh. Well, the more the merrier, I suppose.”

    And then we’re on our way.

    ---

    Ah, Rome. The heart of the Empire and easily the largest city in Europe in this particular day and age.

    It still smells like shit and looks like a chaotic mess. Is “still” the right word, though? The last time I was here was about seventy years in the future.

    “Ah. She’s still as chaotic as ever.” Caesar notes with a faint grin, looking out at the city that birthed him. “It’s good to be home.”

    “Roma must concur, nepos Romae.” Romulus says, standing besides him. “It is good to see that the seeds Roma has planted have grown such plentiful fruit.” He gives him a pointed look. “Even if it was after several civil wars.”

    “Again, Holy Founder, I am very sorry about that.”

    “And Roma forgives you. As long as it is not repeated.”

    “So.” I turn my attention away from the Romans to look at Galahad. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

    “Yep.” And then he slugs me in the gut. He pulls his punch, and only knocks the wind straight out of me, but that’s more then enough to bring me to my knees, gasping for air.

    “Thought… we… were past this,” I wheeze out.

    “We were. Then you poisoned Mash.” The other Servants are all looking at us in shock, and Medea in particular has to be physically restrained by Georgios. But they stay back, and don’t interfere.

    “I… What? No!” I didn’t do that…

    Did I?

    I don’t really remember exactly who I poisoned, now that I think about it. Just that I wanted to win. If I inconvenienced somebody, then I’d cure them, and think it was funny how they were so upset about it. Did I- Did I really go that far out of line?

    “Unless you really weren’t the one that poisoned all the showerheads,” Galahad notes, his face set in righteous fury. “But I sincerely doubt that. The others? They’ll let you get away with your shit because you’re the last Master we’ve got, or because they’re afraid of you, or because they think you’re just secretly a good person that’s under a lot of stress. Me though? I know you. And I am one hundred percent done with putting up with you.”

    “What’re you-“

    “You screw things up. You inevitably do. And not because of some deep-rooted trauma, but because there’s something deeply, fundamentally, wrong with you. You don’t care about people. You just see us all as some sort of obstacles or tools, or what have you. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe you do care, but I don’t doubt for a second that you’d sacrifice the people you actually seem to care about if it’d give us an advantage.” He’s breathing hard, looking straight at me. I can’t look him in the eyes. “And you know what?” He sighs, seeming to calm down a bit. “That’s fine.”

    “Huh?”

    “I’m not going to lie. It’s pretty obvious that, whatever your malfunction is, it’s what keeps you going, even if it is what leaves you an insensitive, unlikable jackass.” He sighs, looking around. “Most of the other staff in Chaldea would just break down if they had to deal with half the shit you do. Hell, they’d probably break down just from the trauma of having Medea as a teacher.”

    “First you hit my apprentice and now you insult my teaching methods? Watch your tongue, or-“

    “Shut up. You’re not helping.” Galahad says, shooting her a death glare. My teacher complies. “My problem with you isn’t tied to your apparent inability to form non-shallow bonds, Flynn. It’s tied to your inability to see the results of your issues. You’re unbearably smug, worryingly ruthless, and so easily blinded by the tasks in front of you that you completely forget the big picture. You have a moral code, that much I can tell, but you’ll violate it at the drop of a hat if it’ll give humanity the advantage. When you’re invested in something, you give it your all, and completely forget about the people you trample underfoot in your headlong rush towards the finish line. And it feels like you don’t ever actually change your ways.”

    “So tell me.” I interrupt.

    “What?”

    “Tell me when I’m going too far. Ask me what I’m doing. Force me to take a step back and actually think about what I’m trying to accomplish.” I grin. “Be my Jiminy Cricket.”

    “I don’t know what that is.” Galahad admits.

    “My conscience.”

    “Well, it’s not like you have one of your own,” he grumbles, before sighing. “Fine.”

    “But if changing my ways and doing the right thing means compromising our chances of success in the slightest, I’m not doing it.” I look him dead in the eye. “I’d rather have the world I’ve saved denounce me as a monster than die the moral victor and the last human to ever live.”

    “Fair enough.” Galahad observes. “Just know that if you ever hurt Mash again, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

    “Fair enough.”

    “And when we get back to Chaldea, you’re giving out apologies to everyone you poisoned.”
    “Fine.”

    He nods, and then walks off. “I’ll ask around the city. See if I can find out what’s going on.”

    Once he’s gone, I shakily get to my feet. Honestly, after that, I’m not exactly sure what to do. Evidently, so do the rest of my Servants. The Romans evidently didn’t stick around to watch. Georgios is looking at me with… hope. Yan looks like he’d just got whiplashed about as hard as I did, Cursed Arm is unreadable as ever, and Medea…

    “Are you all right, Apprentice?” she asks, hurrying over to my side. “Oh, I am going to kill that man.”

    “Don’t.” I order. “And I’m fine. Just winded, is all.”

    “I don’t care if you can still use him, he hit you.” She helps me steady myself and starts looking me over for injuries.

    “He also had a fairly good reason for it and said something he felt needed to be said. I’m not going to kill a man just for noticing my failings and doing his best to direct my attention towards them.”

    “You’re too forgiving, Medus.” She seems to realize what she said and flinches. “I-I mean Apprentice. I’ll go and find him and- “

    Not kill him.”

    “Fine. But if he raises a hand against you again, I’m killing him, and I’m telling him that.”

    “You’re being awfully tender, considering all the times you tried your luck at killing me yourself.” I note with an arched eyebrow. “I distinctly remember you laughing while I was trying my damnedest not to choke to death on my own tongue in front of you.”

    “And I still gave you the antidote,” she reminds me primly. “Besides, you’re my apprentice. I’m the only one who’s allowed to kill you.” And on that note, having delivered what was possibly the most weirdly sweet death threat I’ve ever received, she marches off after Galahad.

    Yan speaks up, looking as utterly exhausted as I feel right now. “Does anyone else feel like dropping a bombshell on us, or can we table the soap opera and get back to work.”

    “Yeah.” I mutter. “Work sounds pretty good right now.”

    “Are you sure?” Georgios asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s actually proving quite entertaining for me, at least. Perhaps we might call in another Servant or two from Chaldea for some more personal drama?”

    No.

    “Very well,” Georgios concedes with a faint smile. “Onwards, then?”

    ---

    “Personal drama straightened out?” Romulus asks as we approach him and Caesar.

    “Yes. Kind of annoyed that you two didn’t stick around to see how it ended after Galahad punched me, though.” My stomach is already feeling tender, and there’s definitely going to be a bruise there tomorrow.

    “Roma used Romae Imperial Privilege to give Romam Clairvoyance, and then used it to see the end of your conversation,” Romulus informs me with a lofty wave. “Then Roma began to use it to survey the area and found out what’s going on.”

    “You- you can just do that?” I ask incredulously.

    “Of course.” He says without missing a beat. “Although Roma mostly just uses it to speed through paperwork.”

    “…What.”

    “It’s quite simple: You resolve yourself to read a document thoroughly, activate your Clairvoyance, and then use it to look ahead through the timeline to what you will know after you’ve finished your reading. Then, you sign everything that needs to be signed, and then move on to the next document.”

    I gape at him for a moment or two, and then say the only thing that comes to mind. “That is easily the single pettiest use of Servant powers I’ve ever heard of.”

    “Jealous?”

    “…Yes.”

    “Holy Founder, could we perhaps go into what we’ve discovered about the Micro-Singularity before we talk about how you use your unparalleled abilities to get out of having to read paperwork?” Caesar asks, looking far more worn than he did a few minutes ago.

    “Ah, yes.” Romulus clears his throat, and then launches into an explanation. “You see, Roma discovered that, while peace and libertas had been restored under the just and righteous reign of nepos Romae Augustus Caesar, a great disruption suddenly occurred, five years after the battle of Actium. Cleopatra was raised from the dead, Grail in hand, and, with an army of undead Egyptians at her back, used the Grail to summon a set of five Heroic Spirits that would aid her in casting down the man and the Empire responsible for conquering her Egypt, and killing both her and her children.”

    Oh. No wonder Caesar looks utterly miserable right now. “And this is one of the Singularities that’ll resolve itself without us?” It seems like a fairly deadly one, in all honesty, and it’s hard to imagine even as skilled a leader as Augustus pulling off a win against an undead army and six Servants

    “You didn’t let Roma finish. Cleopatra’s summonings through her Grail allowed the Counter Force to summon a few Servants to serve as counters for the ones she summoned. Further, she didn’t quite get the Servants she wanted. Lastly, and most damningly of all, the last Servant she summoned, Attila the Hun, immediately betrayed her. He called his Hunnic hordes to join him and has been a complete and utter wild card ever since.”

    “How many Servants are left?” I ask, thinking it over.

    “Two stand with Augustus: Menelaus, the husband of Helen, and Roland, Paladin of Charlemagne. Two still stand with Cleopatra: Hector, Troy’s greatest guardian, and Paris, Troy’s biggest fuckup. Attila, for his part, is still fairly unpredictable, attacking whoever seems to have the upper hand, and reveling in the havoc he wreaks.”

    “So we need to-“ I realize, suddenly, that the street we’re on has grown quiet. I look around. The Romans have backed away, forming a sort of perimeter around us as they stare at us with reverent awe. No. Not at us. At Caesar.

    “Make way for the Emperor!” someone shouts, and suddenly, a section of the crowd parts, revealing a litter, borne aloft by four hardy slaves and curtained in Imperial purple. On either side of the litter, two men stand guard, one in burnished bronze with wild eyes and a thick beard, and the other in plate armor that I’m willing to bet is anachronistic even in his time.

    Then the curtain opens, and out steps Augustus. My first impression of him is that he’s easily one of the skinniest people I’ve ever seen. His expression is welcoming and jovial as he looks out over his awestruck people, and then shifts over to religious awe as he sees us. More specifically, when he sees Caesar. I take a step or two back, trying to distance myself from Romulus and Caesar. Something tells me that my presence might cause some awkward complications.

    And then the Emperor bows on his hands and knees, and the entire crowd follows him. “Oh, Divine father, who has descended to this lowly earth to guide us, I beg of you, aid us against our enemies! We, your people, beg this of you!”

    Caesar, to his credit, doesn’t even miss a beat. “Little Octavian? How well you have grown, my son.”

    “I am known as Augustus, now, Great Caesar. By the will of the people I have been raised up to lead them and bring peace and prosperity to Rome as their Emperor!” even his self-abasement is bombastic! I’m impressed. “I beg of you, what god has afflicted us so, by raising up the witch that ensorcelled you whilst you yet lived, and what offerings might we make, that you might see fit to aid us?”

    I think I’m the only one who notices how Caesar’s smile turns ever-so-slightly brittle when Augustus calls Cleopatra a witch. But he doesn’t falter in his showmanship. “The gods which afflicts you are many, for a Vestal has been defiled, and priests have been lax in their duties. But you need make no offerings to me, nor to Quirinius at my side, for we are the gods who most deeply love Rome and have come to her in her hour of need. Now take us and our entourage to your palace, that on the morrow, we might guide you in the appropriate sacrifices, and lead our troops to glorious victory!”

    What follows can only be called an impromptu, hyperpatriotic religious festival that takes three hours to navigate.

    ---

    Finally, we reach the Imperial Palace, and Augustus leads us into a planning hall, Menelaus and Roland still at his side, dismisses the slaves, and then turns to look at me.

    “Alright, Master of Chaldea, what in Hades’ frozen halls are you doing here?” he asks all his previous bombastic joviality entirely gone.

    “How’d you-“

    “Do I look like a fool?” he snorts. “When these two first showed themselves, I made sure to interrogate them quite thoroughly on the situation. You were mentioned, but, as victory drew ever closer, and you refused to show yourself, I assumed that you wouldn’t be appearing, and planned accordingly. But now, with both my enemies on the ropes, you appear. Why?”

    “We were rather hoping to lend you our aid… for a price.”

    “Ah. Mercenary work?”

    “We need to get our supplies somewhere, and our base is in Antarctica, so we can’t grow them ourselves.”

    “Antarctica?”

    “Think of the coldest place you know. Multiply that by a hundred, and then spread it out to cover a land as big as the entire Roman Empire.”

    “Sounds rather unpleasant. Why would anyone go there?”

    “To prove that we can, of course.”

    He snorts. “Very well then, Antarctican. Let us discuss your terms.”

    We do so.

    Unsurprisingly, he isn’t nearly as naively generous as Nero. I’m fairly sure that a sucker that gullible only comes around once every thousand years or so. Instead, he drives a hard bargain, and I swiftly find myself utterly outclassed. Finally, it’s agreed: in return for his payments of food and materials only, we’ll deal with Attila, while his Servants, Menelaus, Roland, and Assassin, wipe out the remains of Cleopatra’s faction.

    “Assassin?” I ask when he mentions that.

    “A surprise for later.”

    Caesar, for his part, looks utterly relieved to know that he’s not going toe to toe with the woman he might have loved.

    And so, we settle down for the night.
     
  26. Illariai

    Illariai I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    $10 on him seducing Atilla, at least if the version summoned is the one that stole Mars' sword.
     
  27. Narmish

    Narmish I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Just so long as no one fully wakes up Atilla, everything will probably be fine.
     
  28. Delta Green

    Delta Green Know what you're doing yet?

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    Fucking A, I want this Augustus as a Servant. No non-sense, no hesitation, no mercy... and a great actor for the public. Nero wishes and dreams she was as good a thespian as Augustus was.

    Seriously, the theater of his appearance was just the kind of political move he was known for. (Although Augustus made a point of moving about Rome as if an affluent Senator, rather than a general. Hence the title Princeps/Prince/First Citizen might have been used here, as it described his political role within Rome and the Senate, rather than Imperator/Emperor which took more importance later on with the Soldier Emperors. Princeps to the people, Imperator to the armies, to summerize.)

    Caesar is right to be very proud of his nephew and adopted son. "That's my BOY! He resolves any Singularity sent into his time period without Chaldean aid! That's MY boy!
     
  29. Darko

    Darko Connoisseur.

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    As long he doesn't demand his potential child doing some fairly weird things, like he had his first son do, the kid should be okay.

    The sass on this saint.

    So you created a way to use a superpower to solve the paperwork dilemma, impressive.

    Guess the Shadow Clone technique has a rival now.

    Can't wait to see Charlie react to seeing Attila, assuming you kept the character looking like they did in the source material.
     
  30. Charles Flynn

    Charles Flynn I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    I might have taken a few liberties, actually.
     
    Darko likes this.
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