nick012000
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No, I was referring to how Gilgamesh is likely to react to being disrespected.
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How I Saved History (Fate/Grand Order SI)
- Thread starter Charles Flynn
- Start date
Darko
Connoisseur.
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Archer Gil would just kill him, while Caster Gil may be more amused by his disrespect.
Granted Charlie is good at talking his way out of shit, so it possible that he could convince Archer to spare him.
Charles Flynn
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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He didn't have that knee-jerk reaction just because they mentioned a king, he had it because they mentioned a king in America. He can accept a monarchy in past situations where it is endemic, but not in his home, where it has no place being.
FourthPear
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Oof. Please tell me Jackie isn't in this singularity at least.
Darko
Connoisseur.
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I don't think she's going to be involved in this Singularity.
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I almost missed this story because I don't frequent the SFW creative writing thread all that often. I really enjoy how you're handling the Nasu servant craziness versus their historical accounts. It's a refreshingly different change of pace, along with your willingness to go off the rails.
Chapter 115
Charles Flynn
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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"So," I finally say, after half an hour of walking in silence. "Is there a faction besides the Celts and the Americans?"
"There's the Resistance." Fionn says, turning to look at me.
Besides me, Arash readies his bow, and changes direction. "Master, chimera three klicks to the south-southeast."
'Atalanta, chimera, three clicks south-southeast.'
As Atalanta runs in to attack the Phantasmal before it can become a problem, Arash's bow begins to thrum, firing his deadly arrows with perfect accuracy.
The early warning and interception system was Arash's idea, and easily one of the best strategies we've implemented thus far. Monsters are dealt with before they even see us, and threats we can't take out are avoided.
"The Resistance?" I repeat, feeling hope begin to well up inside me. Maybe there's an actual good-guy faction in this whole mess! One which I didn't just royally piss off!
"They formed in response to the war crimes of both the Celts and the Presi-King. They strive to protect the people of the United States of America, regardless of race, class or creed, and resolve this Singularity."
"And you know all of this because…"
He holds up his thumb, and I nod in understanding. Then I frown as I remember something. "Wait, how is there even still a war going on? Your Noble Phantasm gives you infinite access to perfectly accurate intel, why haven't the Celts already won?"
He grins. "Well, that one was easy. I just played the fool as convincingly as I could. Nobody really thinks about what you can do and makes you work according to your actual ability when you act like an uncontrollable womanizer."
Diarmuid blinks. "Wait, WHAT?"
"You didn't really think I was THAT much of an idiot, did you?" Fionn asks, raising an eyebrow as Diarmuid boggles at him. "I realized that, if I actually acted serious, they'd make me do more work, and then I'd just stain my honor even further."
"So… this whole time…" Diarmuid starts to tear up and then hugs his lord. "Lord Fionn! You acted like an insufferable ass in order to preserve your honor, and the lives of those around you?"
"Um, yes?" Fionn says, patting his weepy subordinate on the back awkwardly. "I… just said that."
"My king! I should never have doubted you!" Diarmuid continues, while Fionn shifts uncomfortably in his arms. "I had begun to question if you were truly the virtuous and wise lord I served in life when you made me fight off that army of robots single-handedly while you visited that brothel back in Missouri, but now it's confirmed beyond the shadow of a doubt!"
"Errrr… yes." Fionn says, silently begging me to save him from this unspeakably awkward moment with his eyes.
"Hey, Diarmuid, Atalanta needs a wingman to help her fight some of the monsters." He jumps to attention and lets Fionn go. "Could you go with her on interception duty?"
"As you would have it, Master of Chaldea!" Diarmuid says, running off, and leaving me with just Arash, Galahad, and Fionn.
"Thank you." Fionn says when Diarmuid's out of earshot.
"No problem. You know, I wouldn't mind a heads-up on who's who, and what Servants are in what faction. Also, you know, the general strategic overlay."
"No problem." He seems to think it over for a second, clears his throat, and then begins. "The whole Singularity started after the Revolutionary War was won. Medb of Connaught was summoned and gained the Holy Grail."
"That's your queen?" I ask to confirm.
"Yes. She used the Grail to wish for Cu Chullain to become a cruel and powerful king that could rule by her side as an equal. Then, together, they launched into a brutal war of conquest, birthing an army of warriors and summoning various other Celtic mythological figures to aid them. That's when Presi-King Thomas Edison showed up. With Karna and Blavatsky at his side, and working together with George Washington and the Revolutionary Army, they managed to hold off the Celtic onslaught long enough to retreat to the West Coast. Along the way, the French, Spanish, and Native American tribes they encountered were forced to join them, or else killed at Edison's order."
"What." That's… that doesn't make sense. "Edison did that?"
"Yes." Fionn says, looking at me oddly. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Thomas Edison was a pacifist." Seriously, what would make him do something like this?
"Huh. That's strange. Wait let me check something." Fionn sticks his thumb in his mouth, and then stands stock-still for a few seconds, before pulling it back out. "Huh. Okay, you're right. He was a pacifist, but apparently the spirits of America's presidents decided to possess him in order to strengthen him and get rid of his pesky moral hangups."
"Wait, how is that even possible? Did all of America's Presidents qualify as Heroic Spirits?" I swear to God, if Warren G. Harding qualifies as a Heroic Spirit, I will probably die laughing.
"Most of them are Wraiths, actually. The only two in the Edison Collective who qualify as Heroic Spirits are Theodore Roosevelt and Andrew Jackson."
"Yep. That'd explain it." And by God is it depressing that Andrew Jackson is on the Throne of Heroes. "So. Continue?"
"Ah. Yes. Edison managed to hold the Celts off long enough to get an industrial production chain up and running, forcing every last non-combatant to work day-in and day-out. That's when the Revolutionary Army and most of the Heroic Spirits that had previously supported him broke off and formed the Resistance, partnering up with the Native American tribes of the plains."
"That sounds promising. Now, then. Use that thumb of yours to lead us to their nearest base and tell me some more about the Singularity."
---
Fionn has just finished confirming for me that yes, Darth Cu still has the original's geasas, when Arash speaks up. "Master. There is a patrol of men armed with muskets. Judging by the quality of the patrol's uniforms and equipment, I would have to say that we may have found the Resistance."
'Atalanta, fall back to my position and take Diarmuid with you.'
Right. Time to figure out how I want to present myself on my initial approach. Peaceful and willing to cooperate is certainly the best way to go, certainly, but should I have Fionn and Diarmuid conceal themselves?
No, that's just going to end up alienating them. Best to be open and honest.
But first…
"Fionn, what are the chances that they'll cooperate with us if we approach them openly and honestly state our intentions? Taking all possible factors into account, of course."
He sucks his thumb. "Approximately 92.4% chance of successful cooperation."
"I'll take those odds. All right people! Weapons away, hands in the air, we're going to meet them!"
Seriously, I love having Fionn on my side. It's like having the internet back! I can look things up again, and instead of my primary source being Wikipedia, it's Ireland's answer to King Arthur!
The patrol comes into view soon. Five men, two black, two Native American, can't really tell which tribe from context, and one white. The white man looks like he's their commanding officer. Not really surprising, considering the era. They start when they see us, all standing with our hands in the air, completely unarmed. Wish we had a white flag to wave.
"Could you take us to your camp? We wish to parley with your leader and offer our assistance."
After about ten minutes in a huddle, talking in hushed voices, they do so, keeping their guns pointed our way at all times.
---
The camp is a ragtag affair, tents and teepees interspersed, with no particular sequence defining which one will appear next.
We're led into the command tent, where-
Oh. OH MY GOD!
A man in war paint, in the garb of a chieftan, stands at what's clearly a planning table. Across from him is George Washington himself.
I'm in the same tent as the father of my country! I can die happy now.
"So," America's first President begins, looking me over. "You're the Master of Chaldea, correct?"
"Yes!" I say, trying desperately not to squeal like a little girl. "Charles Flynn, and it's an honor to meet you, sir!"
"Oh, Creator, not another one," the Native American chieftain grumbles. "I'm Geronimo, although I doubt you actually care about who I am. Coyote's teeth, it's Billy all over again."
"An honor to meet you as well, Mr. Geronimo." I affirm, remembering my manners. "I've heard a great deal about your exploits, even if I'm more familiar with Sitting Bull."
"Of course you are," he grouses. "Everyone is. But thanks for being polite, I suppose." He looks back at the map. "Are my reports correct? Have you killed Karna?"
"Errr… yes, but, in my defense, it was… well, in my own defense. He and Blavatsky were insisting that I come with them to meet their king. I suspected foul play, so I shot first."
"All the same, son, you've dealt us a heavy blow," General Washington says, his face grim. "Karna was one of the only people who were keeping this war a stalemate. Now that he's gone, we're in serious trouble. It's only a matter of time before Medb and her armies overrun us."
"I kind of figured as much," I say with a guilty wince, before perking back up. "But, all the same, I come bearing gifts." I pull Fionn up to stand beside me. "Ta-Da! I present to you none other than the one and only Fionn Mac Cumhaill! Formerly aligned with the enemy, but I managed to get him to admit the error of his ways and join us. One of his Noble Phantasms is the Salmon of Knowledge, with grants him omniscience whenever he sucks on his thumb. In short: With him on our side, we have unlimited, real-time actionable intel."
The two legends, one living, the other dead, look my offering up and down and then turn to each other.
"I'm not entirely sure about trusting a former enemy, but that sounds tempting indeed," Geronimo says after a moment.
"True. With that sort of active intelligence, we can finally put our Hail Mary into action." Washington says with a nod. He turns to look at me. "Excellent work, Flynn."
"My thanks. May I inquire about this 'Hail Mary' you're planning?"
"I'd prefer to keep the information between Geronimo and myself for the time being. We'll need all hands on deck, though, so I'm afraid that I must ask you to aid us once again."
"In what respect?" I ask. If they aim to embark on this plan without telling me what it is, President or not, he's got another thing coming.
"I'll need you, and whatever Servants you can summon to make your way between the various Resistance cells and tell them to make their way to the rendezvous point. We'll need them assembled within a single week."
Oh. Oh, that's going to be tough to pull off.
"How many, and how far apart?"
"Don't worry, you won't be going to all the Resistance cells," Geronimo interjects. "We'll plot a route to gather a good number of them ourselves."
"Alright. What route would you have us follow?"
They look over the map for a moment or two, before Geronimo traces out a path on one large map, and then hands it over to me. "Here. This will take you through all the Resistance camps you need to visit, and then back up to the rendezvous point in Nebraska."
I look it over and- Oh, dear God Almighty in heaven. "This takes us through nine states, most of which seem to be in enemy territory."
"Well, you have a smaller group than we do. Unlike us, you can avoid notice."
"Fair enough."
To cover that much ground in a week, though…
Jesus, this is going to be a living hell.
"Let me summon up the Servants I need, and gather some supplies, and I'll be off." I pause. "I assume you'll want Diarmuid and Fionn to stay with you?"
"Yes. We have greater credibility with the rest of the Resistance, and as such, should be in charge of introducing them and explaining their role. If they go with you, they may lead to Resistance members mistaking you for an enemy."
"Is that acceptable to you two?" I ask, giving the two knights of the Fianna a look.
"Fine by me. As long as I have a chance to fight, and help out, I'm good." Fionn smiles as he says that.
"I concur with my lord." Diarmuid says. "A worthy battle in service to a righteous cause is all a knight like me can ask for."
"Then I have no objections," I say, folding up the map. "I'll go and make my preparations."
---
"So. Atalanta? Galahad? Arash? Your thoughts on the matter?"
"I believe them to be truthful, and have good intentions," Arash volunteers. "From what I can see, they aren't plotting anything behind your back."
"Yes. Although I'm not entirely sure I'm alright with them dropping the biggest workload straight onto our shoulders," Galahad says with a huff. "I saw the route, same as you. We'll need to ride day and night if we want to pull something like that off. Horses can't do that."
"You have the riding skill, right?" I ask.
"Yes, but I can't push a horse beyond its natural limits."
"Damn. Atalanta?"
Her ears twitch, and she suddenly looks at me with a start. "Yes?"
"Do you have any thoughts on how we should do this?"
"Not really. I kind of drifted off when you guys kept on talking."
"Alright. Let's contact Chaldea. I need to ask some questions before I decide who to call in."
---
"So, first off, is it possible for me to resummons fallen Servants while I'm in a Singularity?"
"Theoretically, yes."
"Good." I'm going to want to get Serenity back. Terrible mistake or not, she proved capable of killing Karna. I'm going to definitely want that sort of utility available when we go up against Medb and Cu V: The Empire Strikes Back.
Roman sighs. "You're planning something, aren't you?"
"Yep. Who knows? It might even be fun."
"Flynn, when you have fun, people die."
"That is blatant slander, I tell you. I enjoyed movie night, and nobody died there!"
"Barely."
"The zombie unicorn was in no way my fault, Roman!"
"Okay," Galahad interjects, sliding between me and Roman. "While I enjoy mocking Flynn as much as the next guy, maybe even a little more, now really isn't the time."
"Fine, fine. Here's my main question: Does Bayard have the same properties as the horse of the same name in the Matter of France?"
Georgios steps into the hologram. "Yes, although he can only carry up to four riders. Beyond that, he becomes somewhat unwieldy, and has difficulty turning."
"Good. I know who I'm calling in, then."
Soon, the team's assembled: Georgios, Tawara Touta (because we need to get our provisions somewhere,) Medusa, and Cursed Arm. I contemplated calling in Sanzang as well, but with her sense of direction, she'd get us all lost.
And then, once we've gathered provisions, we ride out, letters from Washington with us to vouch for our allegiance.
---
The ride is hellish. Georgios, Arash, Galahad, and I all ride on Bayard, who it turns out really does grow bigger and longer to accommodate each new rider. Medusa and Touta both start out on a horse given to us by Washington, but, after a run-in with a manticore pack, trade up for on of the vanquished Phantasmals. Atalanta, for her part, simply lopes along at full speed, loping along on all fours as Agreus Metamorphosis reshapes her limbs. I don't know where Cursed Arm is. He said he'd stay with us, and then activated Presence Concealment.
We ride through the night and the day alike, with occasional short breaks for food and water, going at speeds no normal horse could ever manage. After the second such break, I start riding side-saddle. Galahad laughs at me for it, but he starts doing the same when I point out that Mash has never ridden a horse in her life and won't be ready for the saddle sores.
The first Resistance cell we check in on is gone, their camp a burnt-out ruin. I sleep soon after, still on the saddle, while Galahad does the same next to me, Arash making sure we don't fall off.
The next camp we visit, on the other hand…
---
"There are two archer Servants there," Arash announces, his Clairovoyance coming in handy once more. "The mortal Resistance members are all long since dead, but Robin Hood and Billy the Kid are both still alive, and under siege."
'Atalanta, head in. Kill the Celts and break the siege. Cursed Arm, look for a commander. Medusa and Touta, keep to the skies and snipe the enemy from above.'
"Galahad, Archer, and I all get off here. Rider, head on in and give 'em hell."
"As you command, my Master."
Galahad catches me in a princess carry before I can fall on my face when I roll off Bayard.
"Put me down," I grunt.
"Gladly."
I then promptly fall flat on my face when I try to stand, which leaves Galahad howling with laughter.
By the time the enemy's been finished off, ten minutes later, I've just about gotten the hang of walking again. Just in time too, because the two Servants we just saved have come to meet us.
"Thanks for the save," this Singularity's version of Robin says, Billy the Kid at his side. "You with the Resistance?"
"Yes. Master of Chaldea," I say through gritted teeth, standing rigidly. My pelvis isn't numb anymore. I really wish it was.
"You're not very talkative, are you?" Billy comments with a grin.
"Rode 24/7 to find you. Getting back in the saddle after. Take the letter and go." I offer them the letter with a pained grimace. Everything hurts right now.
They mercifully comply, and I'm left staring at Bayard. Come on, Charlie. Get back in that damn saddle. Do it for America.
After I'm done screaming like a little girl, Galahad and Arash join me on Bayard, and we set off once more.
Two more bases that day, both empty. I sleep just as poorly the second night as I did the first.
The day after that is little more than a pain-filled blur. Circuits burn. Bathory found, sent to Washington, more horse. I fucking hate this horse.
On day four, I pass out multiple times. Finally, they make me get off the horse and sleep, setting up camp.
---
"You shouldn't have done that," I grouse as I get back onto Bayard. I'm properly fed, watered, and rested, which just means I'm now cognizant of how much time we just wasted.
"Not much point of getting through it in a hurry if it means you end up riding yourself to death in the process." Galahad points out, and I have to reluctantly concede the point. "Besides, you're not the only one that needed rest. Mash hadn't gotten proper sleep in days."
"Fine, fine. Let's just go."
We actually made pretty good time. Because we stopped so infrequently, and our chosen mounts didn't really need to rest, we managed to make most of the circuit in four days. Albeit, I nearly killed myself in the process, but still, God damn I'm good. Although, the fact that almost all the bases we visited were charred ruins probably contributed to our alacrity. We didn't have to stop very often.
We have one last stop left, and then we can go on our merry way.
---
"All right, people, fan out and search."
The camp is empty, for some reason. And I hear singing. Terrible singing.
Galahad and I follow it to its source, Galahad taking the lead. Upon rounding one row of tents, however, he blanches, and turns back.
"Why did you stop?"
"No reason. In fact, there's nobody there. At all. We should go."
"If there's no one there, then who's singing?"
He looks panicked. "Absolutely nobody. There's ummm… a phonograph! Yes, that's it."
"I'm pretty sure that those haven't been invented yet," I say, trying to proceed. Galahad blocks me.
"Look, why don't we just turn back? Go on to Washington, tell him we tried. We did try, after all. We've gathered plenty of Servants!" Galahad's chattering like a chipmunk, waving his hands about wildly and grinning just a bit too forcefully.
"Why don't you want me seeing this Servant?" Actually, for some reason, now that I think about it, this singing sounds ridiculously familiar. And for some reason, it fills me with a creeping sense of irritated dread.
"Because I know that if you see her, you'll do something stupid. So, can we please just go?"
"Well, alright, I suppose-" I pull up the corner of the tent we're against and roll under the gap mid-sentence, then get to my feet and sprint towards the direction the singing's coming from. Galahad tackles me after ten paces, though.
"Alright, I'll say it plain: We're leaving." He frowns when I don't respond. "Flynn? What are you- Oh no."
He follows my gaze.
In front of a makeshift stage, three Celtic warriors sit chained to posts. One of them killed himself, the other managed to file off his own ears using the chains wrapped around him, and the third seems to have gone completely and utterly mad. Judging by the two other posts with empty chains around them, there used to be more in the audience, but they managed to escape.
But that's not what I'm looking at.
I'm looking at the prima donna at the center of the stage, singing her heart out while singularly oblivious to just how bad she is. Blond, busty, and clad in a grotesquely perverse mockery of a wedding dress, there's no mistaking her for anyone but Nero Claudia Caesar Augusta Germanica.
"Oh, this is not going to end well." Galahad mutters above me.
"There's the Resistance." Fionn says, turning to look at me.
Besides me, Arash readies his bow, and changes direction. "Master, chimera three klicks to the south-southeast."
'Atalanta, chimera, three clicks south-southeast.'
As Atalanta runs in to attack the Phantasmal before it can become a problem, Arash's bow begins to thrum, firing his deadly arrows with perfect accuracy.
The early warning and interception system was Arash's idea, and easily one of the best strategies we've implemented thus far. Monsters are dealt with before they even see us, and threats we can't take out are avoided.
"The Resistance?" I repeat, feeling hope begin to well up inside me. Maybe there's an actual good-guy faction in this whole mess! One which I didn't just royally piss off!
"They formed in response to the war crimes of both the Celts and the Presi-King. They strive to protect the people of the United States of America, regardless of race, class or creed, and resolve this Singularity."
"And you know all of this because…"
He holds up his thumb, and I nod in understanding. Then I frown as I remember something. "Wait, how is there even still a war going on? Your Noble Phantasm gives you infinite access to perfectly accurate intel, why haven't the Celts already won?"
He grins. "Well, that one was easy. I just played the fool as convincingly as I could. Nobody really thinks about what you can do and makes you work according to your actual ability when you act like an uncontrollable womanizer."
Diarmuid blinks. "Wait, WHAT?"
"You didn't really think I was THAT much of an idiot, did you?" Fionn asks, raising an eyebrow as Diarmuid boggles at him. "I realized that, if I actually acted serious, they'd make me do more work, and then I'd just stain my honor even further."
"So… this whole time…" Diarmuid starts to tear up and then hugs his lord. "Lord Fionn! You acted like an insufferable ass in order to preserve your honor, and the lives of those around you?"
"Um, yes?" Fionn says, patting his weepy subordinate on the back awkwardly. "I… just said that."
"My king! I should never have doubted you!" Diarmuid continues, while Fionn shifts uncomfortably in his arms. "I had begun to question if you were truly the virtuous and wise lord I served in life when you made me fight off that army of robots single-handedly while you visited that brothel back in Missouri, but now it's confirmed beyond the shadow of a doubt!"
"Errrr… yes." Fionn says, silently begging me to save him from this unspeakably awkward moment with his eyes.
"Hey, Diarmuid, Atalanta needs a wingman to help her fight some of the monsters." He jumps to attention and lets Fionn go. "Could you go with her on interception duty?"
"As you would have it, Master of Chaldea!" Diarmuid says, running off, and leaving me with just Arash, Galahad, and Fionn.
"Thank you." Fionn says when Diarmuid's out of earshot.
"No problem. You know, I wouldn't mind a heads-up on who's who, and what Servants are in what faction. Also, you know, the general strategic overlay."
"No problem." He seems to think it over for a second, clears his throat, and then begins. "The whole Singularity started after the Revolutionary War was won. Medb of Connaught was summoned and gained the Holy Grail."
"That's your queen?" I ask to confirm.
"Yes. She used the Grail to wish for Cu Chullain to become a cruel and powerful king that could rule by her side as an equal. Then, together, they launched into a brutal war of conquest, birthing an army of warriors and summoning various other Celtic mythological figures to aid them. That's when Presi-King Thomas Edison showed up. With Karna and Blavatsky at his side, and working together with George Washington and the Revolutionary Army, they managed to hold off the Celtic onslaught long enough to retreat to the West Coast. Along the way, the French, Spanish, and Native American tribes they encountered were forced to join them, or else killed at Edison's order."
"What." That's… that doesn't make sense. "Edison did that?"
"Yes." Fionn says, looking at me oddly. "Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Thomas Edison was a pacifist." Seriously, what would make him do something like this?
"Huh. That's strange. Wait let me check something." Fionn sticks his thumb in his mouth, and then stands stock-still for a few seconds, before pulling it back out. "Huh. Okay, you're right. He was a pacifist, but apparently the spirits of America's presidents decided to possess him in order to strengthen him and get rid of his pesky moral hangups."
"Wait, how is that even possible? Did all of America's Presidents qualify as Heroic Spirits?" I swear to God, if Warren G. Harding qualifies as a Heroic Spirit, I will probably die laughing.
"Most of them are Wraiths, actually. The only two in the Edison Collective who qualify as Heroic Spirits are Theodore Roosevelt and Andrew Jackson."
"Yep. That'd explain it." And by God is it depressing that Andrew Jackson is on the Throne of Heroes. "So. Continue?"
"Ah. Yes. Edison managed to hold the Celts off long enough to get an industrial production chain up and running, forcing every last non-combatant to work day-in and day-out. That's when the Revolutionary Army and most of the Heroic Spirits that had previously supported him broke off and formed the Resistance, partnering up with the Native American tribes of the plains."
"That sounds promising. Now, then. Use that thumb of yours to lead us to their nearest base and tell me some more about the Singularity."
---
Fionn has just finished confirming for me that yes, Darth Cu still has the original's geasas, when Arash speaks up. "Master. There is a patrol of men armed with muskets. Judging by the quality of the patrol's uniforms and equipment, I would have to say that we may have found the Resistance."
'Atalanta, fall back to my position and take Diarmuid with you.'
Right. Time to figure out how I want to present myself on my initial approach. Peaceful and willing to cooperate is certainly the best way to go, certainly, but should I have Fionn and Diarmuid conceal themselves?
No, that's just going to end up alienating them. Best to be open and honest.
But first…
"Fionn, what are the chances that they'll cooperate with us if we approach them openly and honestly state our intentions? Taking all possible factors into account, of course."
He sucks his thumb. "Approximately 92.4% chance of successful cooperation."
"I'll take those odds. All right people! Weapons away, hands in the air, we're going to meet them!"
Seriously, I love having Fionn on my side. It's like having the internet back! I can look things up again, and instead of my primary source being Wikipedia, it's Ireland's answer to King Arthur!
The patrol comes into view soon. Five men, two black, two Native American, can't really tell which tribe from context, and one white. The white man looks like he's their commanding officer. Not really surprising, considering the era. They start when they see us, all standing with our hands in the air, completely unarmed. Wish we had a white flag to wave.
"Could you take us to your camp? We wish to parley with your leader and offer our assistance."
After about ten minutes in a huddle, talking in hushed voices, they do so, keeping their guns pointed our way at all times.
---
The camp is a ragtag affair, tents and teepees interspersed, with no particular sequence defining which one will appear next.
We're led into the command tent, where-
Oh. OH MY GOD!
A man in war paint, in the garb of a chieftan, stands at what's clearly a planning table. Across from him is George Washington himself.
I'm in the same tent as the father of my country! I can die happy now.
"So," America's first President begins, looking me over. "You're the Master of Chaldea, correct?"
"Yes!" I say, trying desperately not to squeal like a little girl. "Charles Flynn, and it's an honor to meet you, sir!"
"Oh, Creator, not another one," the Native American chieftain grumbles. "I'm Geronimo, although I doubt you actually care about who I am. Coyote's teeth, it's Billy all over again."
"An honor to meet you as well, Mr. Geronimo." I affirm, remembering my manners. "I've heard a great deal about your exploits, even if I'm more familiar with Sitting Bull."
"Of course you are," he grouses. "Everyone is. But thanks for being polite, I suppose." He looks back at the map. "Are my reports correct? Have you killed Karna?"
"Errr… yes, but, in my defense, it was… well, in my own defense. He and Blavatsky were insisting that I come with them to meet their king. I suspected foul play, so I shot first."
"All the same, son, you've dealt us a heavy blow," General Washington says, his face grim. "Karna was one of the only people who were keeping this war a stalemate. Now that he's gone, we're in serious trouble. It's only a matter of time before Medb and her armies overrun us."
"I kind of figured as much," I say with a guilty wince, before perking back up. "But, all the same, I come bearing gifts." I pull Fionn up to stand beside me. "Ta-Da! I present to you none other than the one and only Fionn Mac Cumhaill! Formerly aligned with the enemy, but I managed to get him to admit the error of his ways and join us. One of his Noble Phantasms is the Salmon of Knowledge, with grants him omniscience whenever he sucks on his thumb. In short: With him on our side, we have unlimited, real-time actionable intel."
The two legends, one living, the other dead, look my offering up and down and then turn to each other.
"I'm not entirely sure about trusting a former enemy, but that sounds tempting indeed," Geronimo says after a moment.
"True. With that sort of active intelligence, we can finally put our Hail Mary into action." Washington says with a nod. He turns to look at me. "Excellent work, Flynn."
"My thanks. May I inquire about this 'Hail Mary' you're planning?"
"I'd prefer to keep the information between Geronimo and myself for the time being. We'll need all hands on deck, though, so I'm afraid that I must ask you to aid us once again."
"In what respect?" I ask. If they aim to embark on this plan without telling me what it is, President or not, he's got another thing coming.
"I'll need you, and whatever Servants you can summon to make your way between the various Resistance cells and tell them to make their way to the rendezvous point. We'll need them assembled within a single week."
Oh. Oh, that's going to be tough to pull off.
"How many, and how far apart?"
"Don't worry, you won't be going to all the Resistance cells," Geronimo interjects. "We'll plot a route to gather a good number of them ourselves."
"Alright. What route would you have us follow?"
They look over the map for a moment or two, before Geronimo traces out a path on one large map, and then hands it over to me. "Here. This will take you through all the Resistance camps you need to visit, and then back up to the rendezvous point in Nebraska."
I look it over and- Oh, dear God Almighty in heaven. "This takes us through nine states, most of which seem to be in enemy territory."
"Well, you have a smaller group than we do. Unlike us, you can avoid notice."
"Fair enough."
To cover that much ground in a week, though…
Jesus, this is going to be a living hell.
"Let me summon up the Servants I need, and gather some supplies, and I'll be off." I pause. "I assume you'll want Diarmuid and Fionn to stay with you?"
"Yes. We have greater credibility with the rest of the Resistance, and as such, should be in charge of introducing them and explaining their role. If they go with you, they may lead to Resistance members mistaking you for an enemy."
"Is that acceptable to you two?" I ask, giving the two knights of the Fianna a look.
"Fine by me. As long as I have a chance to fight, and help out, I'm good." Fionn smiles as he says that.
"I concur with my lord." Diarmuid says. "A worthy battle in service to a righteous cause is all a knight like me can ask for."
"Then I have no objections," I say, folding up the map. "I'll go and make my preparations."
---
"So. Atalanta? Galahad? Arash? Your thoughts on the matter?"
"I believe them to be truthful, and have good intentions," Arash volunteers. "From what I can see, they aren't plotting anything behind your back."
"Yes. Although I'm not entirely sure I'm alright with them dropping the biggest workload straight onto our shoulders," Galahad says with a huff. "I saw the route, same as you. We'll need to ride day and night if we want to pull something like that off. Horses can't do that."
"You have the riding skill, right?" I ask.
"Yes, but I can't push a horse beyond its natural limits."
"Damn. Atalanta?"
Her ears twitch, and she suddenly looks at me with a start. "Yes?"
"Do you have any thoughts on how we should do this?"
"Not really. I kind of drifted off when you guys kept on talking."
"Alright. Let's contact Chaldea. I need to ask some questions before I decide who to call in."
---
"So, first off, is it possible for me to resummons fallen Servants while I'm in a Singularity?"
"Theoretically, yes."
"Good." I'm going to want to get Serenity back. Terrible mistake or not, she proved capable of killing Karna. I'm going to definitely want that sort of utility available when we go up against Medb and Cu V: The Empire Strikes Back.
Roman sighs. "You're planning something, aren't you?"
"Yep. Who knows? It might even be fun."
"Flynn, when you have fun, people die."
"That is blatant slander, I tell you. I enjoyed movie night, and nobody died there!"
"Barely."
"The zombie unicorn was in no way my fault, Roman!"
"Okay," Galahad interjects, sliding between me and Roman. "While I enjoy mocking Flynn as much as the next guy, maybe even a little more, now really isn't the time."
"Fine, fine. Here's my main question: Does Bayard have the same properties as the horse of the same name in the Matter of France?"
Georgios steps into the hologram. "Yes, although he can only carry up to four riders. Beyond that, he becomes somewhat unwieldy, and has difficulty turning."
"Good. I know who I'm calling in, then."
Soon, the team's assembled: Georgios, Tawara Touta (because we need to get our provisions somewhere,) Medusa, and Cursed Arm. I contemplated calling in Sanzang as well, but with her sense of direction, she'd get us all lost.
And then, once we've gathered provisions, we ride out, letters from Washington with us to vouch for our allegiance.
---
The ride is hellish. Georgios, Arash, Galahad, and I all ride on Bayard, who it turns out really does grow bigger and longer to accommodate each new rider. Medusa and Touta both start out on a horse given to us by Washington, but, after a run-in with a manticore pack, trade up for on of the vanquished Phantasmals. Atalanta, for her part, simply lopes along at full speed, loping along on all fours as Agreus Metamorphosis reshapes her limbs. I don't know where Cursed Arm is. He said he'd stay with us, and then activated Presence Concealment.
We ride through the night and the day alike, with occasional short breaks for food and water, going at speeds no normal horse could ever manage. After the second such break, I start riding side-saddle. Galahad laughs at me for it, but he starts doing the same when I point out that Mash has never ridden a horse in her life and won't be ready for the saddle sores.
The first Resistance cell we check in on is gone, their camp a burnt-out ruin. I sleep soon after, still on the saddle, while Galahad does the same next to me, Arash making sure we don't fall off.
The next camp we visit, on the other hand…
---
"There are two archer Servants there," Arash announces, his Clairovoyance coming in handy once more. "The mortal Resistance members are all long since dead, but Robin Hood and Billy the Kid are both still alive, and under siege."
'Atalanta, head in. Kill the Celts and break the siege. Cursed Arm, look for a commander. Medusa and Touta, keep to the skies and snipe the enemy from above.'
"Galahad, Archer, and I all get off here. Rider, head on in and give 'em hell."
"As you command, my Master."
Galahad catches me in a princess carry before I can fall on my face when I roll off Bayard.
"Put me down," I grunt.
"Gladly."
I then promptly fall flat on my face when I try to stand, which leaves Galahad howling with laughter.
By the time the enemy's been finished off, ten minutes later, I've just about gotten the hang of walking again. Just in time too, because the two Servants we just saved have come to meet us.
"Thanks for the save," this Singularity's version of Robin says, Billy the Kid at his side. "You with the Resistance?"
"Yes. Master of Chaldea," I say through gritted teeth, standing rigidly. My pelvis isn't numb anymore. I really wish it was.
"You're not very talkative, are you?" Billy comments with a grin.
"Rode 24/7 to find you. Getting back in the saddle after. Take the letter and go." I offer them the letter with a pained grimace. Everything hurts right now.
They mercifully comply, and I'm left staring at Bayard. Come on, Charlie. Get back in that damn saddle. Do it for America.
After I'm done screaming like a little girl, Galahad and Arash join me on Bayard, and we set off once more.
Two more bases that day, both empty. I sleep just as poorly the second night as I did the first.
The day after that is little more than a pain-filled blur. Circuits burn. Bathory found, sent to Washington, more horse. I fucking hate this horse.
On day four, I pass out multiple times. Finally, they make me get off the horse and sleep, setting up camp.
---
"You shouldn't have done that," I grouse as I get back onto Bayard. I'm properly fed, watered, and rested, which just means I'm now cognizant of how much time we just wasted.
"Not much point of getting through it in a hurry if it means you end up riding yourself to death in the process." Galahad points out, and I have to reluctantly concede the point. "Besides, you're not the only one that needed rest. Mash hadn't gotten proper sleep in days."
"Fine, fine. Let's just go."
We actually made pretty good time. Because we stopped so infrequently, and our chosen mounts didn't really need to rest, we managed to make most of the circuit in four days. Albeit, I nearly killed myself in the process, but still, God damn I'm good. Although, the fact that almost all the bases we visited were charred ruins probably contributed to our alacrity. We didn't have to stop very often.
We have one last stop left, and then we can go on our merry way.
---
"All right, people, fan out and search."
The camp is empty, for some reason. And I hear singing. Terrible singing.
Galahad and I follow it to its source, Galahad taking the lead. Upon rounding one row of tents, however, he blanches, and turns back.
"Why did you stop?"
"No reason. In fact, there's nobody there. At all. We should go."
"If there's no one there, then who's singing?"
He looks panicked. "Absolutely nobody. There's ummm… a phonograph! Yes, that's it."
"I'm pretty sure that those haven't been invented yet," I say, trying to proceed. Galahad blocks me.
"Look, why don't we just turn back? Go on to Washington, tell him we tried. We did try, after all. We've gathered plenty of Servants!" Galahad's chattering like a chipmunk, waving his hands about wildly and grinning just a bit too forcefully.
"Why don't you want me seeing this Servant?" Actually, for some reason, now that I think about it, this singing sounds ridiculously familiar. And for some reason, it fills me with a creeping sense of irritated dread.
"Because I know that if you see her, you'll do something stupid. So, can we please just go?"
"Well, alright, I suppose-" I pull up the corner of the tent we're against and roll under the gap mid-sentence, then get to my feet and sprint towards the direction the singing's coming from. Galahad tackles me after ten paces, though.
"Alright, I'll say it plain: We're leaving." He frowns when I don't respond. "Flynn? What are you- Oh no."
He follows my gaze.
In front of a makeshift stage, three Celtic warriors sit chained to posts. One of them killed himself, the other managed to file off his own ears using the chains wrapped around him, and the third seems to have gone completely and utterly mad. Judging by the two other posts with empty chains around them, there used to be more in the audience, but they managed to escape.
But that's not what I'm looking at.
I'm looking at the prima donna at the center of the stage, singing her heart out while singularly oblivious to just how bad she is. Blond, busty, and clad in a grotesquely perverse mockery of a wedding dress, there's no mistaking her for anyone but Nero Claudia Caesar Augusta Germanica.
"Oh, this is not going to end well." Galahad mutters above me.
FourthPear
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...oh my god, what would happen if Charlie summoned Bride Nero?
What will happen if this singularity's Nero is Bride Nero!?
edit: holy shit NINJA'd by the damn chapter!!!!
What will happen if this singularity's Nero is Bride Nero!?
edit: holy shit NINJA'd by the damn chapter!!!!
Silver W. King
King of Adventures
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Bride Nero isn't the one from the Rome Singularity, I don't think she would have met Charlie at all.
...Huh, I wonder if Charlie won't screw up this relationship. It's technically a clean slate, and he did regret how he acted toward Nero during Septem, so who knows.
...Huh, I wonder if Charlie won't screw up this relationship. It's technically a clean slate, and he did regret how he acted toward Nero during Septem, so who knows.
Lurkwaffle
Know what you're doing yet?
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Ehh, even odds Flynn burns that bridge harder than the Grail hit Fuyuki. Assuming his Nero-induced PTSD doesn't kick in and he Zabaniyas her faster than you can say "umu", anyway.
Charles Flynn
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...You do remember that she... y'know, enslaved him? He's still got the burn scars around his neck to show for it. He regrets not paying more attention to her and keeping a closer eye on her. He regrets not keeping an eye on her and playing her properly, and letting his dislike for her keep him from properly appeasing her.
All the same, he still hates and dislikes her. And he never really got to express that to her face in Septem, due to the fact that he had to suck up to her.
There's a reason Galahad's reaction to Flynn seeing Nero again is "This is gonna suck."
FourthPear
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Oooooh fuck, please don't do what I think you're about to do. We get it, a lot of the servants look way too sketchy to trust without outside knowledge like we have. PLEASE do not give us a repeat of Jackie and break this poor umu's heart!
Darko
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Now don't be so hasty Diarmuid.
Your boss may still be a huge asshole, just not as much as you thought.
He went to the brothel didn't he?
If those stories of him killing animals are true, then his pacifistic beliefs may not be all that strong.
Hey, you can't say the guy wasn't...interesting.
Interesting like a car wreck.
He's a bit jealous of these guys and the fact that they found ways to escape her singing.
Thought he'd have those healed.
Considering they have Paracelsus it should have been fairly easy.
Charles Flynn
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Don't worry. He's not going to kill her.
All the same, there is zero chance of them having a good relationship.
Much like Rome, that bridge burned a long time ago.
FourthPear
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Charles Flynn
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He totally went to the brothel.
And Flynn kept the scars in part because he didn't want to waste resources, but mostly because he wanted to keep what felt like the only tangible proof of his adventures with him.
*With regards to the electrocuting animals stories, I should probably point out that Edison wasn't the one who conducted that demonstration. It was actually a separate anti-AC activist that Edison funded. Edison himself was a proud believer in nonviolence, and was in fact a vegetarian.
Last edited:
Silver W. King
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Oh yeah, I did forget about that. I'm too used to SI stories where the SI doesn't have that much of an antagonistic relationship to other characters. Or least, not one that leaves physical scars.
Shame, kinda wanted to see some semi-redemption arc for Nero, even if it's through Bride Nero, but I guess it's just gonna all go to hell anyways.
...Wait, did Charlie meet Elizabeth yet?
Charles Flynn
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Yes, both in Rome, where he barely interacted with her, and here, where he delivered the message, but doesn't really remember her thanks to how much pain he was in at the time.
Darko
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Knew it.
So I guess he'll have something to show off to the ladies in the rest of the world when this all ends, because I think most of the women in Chaldea are keeping their distance from him, aside from Medea.
She may still get one, but that probably won't improve her relationship with Charlie.
He may not have her killed, but he isn't going to start being her friend.
He apparently sent her one of Washingtons letters in this chapter, but it was offscreen.
Limbo
God knows I was just trolling, right?
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After reading this, I formed the opinion that Assassin EMIYA would absolutely love this guy. He is everything Kiri was in life, hyper pragmatic, willing to do bad things for the greater good, and not held back by anything even coming close to "honor" or "chivalry". They'd mesh well.
Plus, Kiri's Valentine's day gift is a fucking gun rather that candy. That always made me laugh.
Plus, Kiri's Valentine's day gift is a fucking gun rather that candy. That always made me laugh.
GetRektNuub
~Guts and Honor~
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Is it bad that I can't see the SI clearing the Lostbelts even if he somehow manages to clear the Singularities?
Chapter 116
Charles Flynn
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I push myself up, shaking Galahad off of me, and make my way towards the stage, examining Nero over more closely. She looks younger than she did in Rome. No bags beneath her eyes, less lines on her face, and she actually looks like she put some effort into her appearance, unlike the Nero I met in Rome, who always looked fairly unkempt. It's her eyes that are the most different. They aren't bloodshot, and lack that look of desperate mania I came to associate with her.
She doesn't seem to recognize me, which I can only count as a boon, especially as it allows me to do this.
"You must be the Servant that Washington sent us to find!" I call cheerfully. "No, no, don't tell me who you are, I think I can guess." I rub my chin in contemplation. "That blond hair, so clearly born from the line of Germanicus, that imperial air of command and control, in spite of your gender, why, there is only one person you could be!"
"Yes!" she cheers smugly. "It is I-"
"Lady Agrippina!"
I don't think I've ever seen someone's face fall that fast before. "What?"
"Oh, no need to be so modest, my lady! In spite of your sex, and the ruthless means by which you seized power, you ruled justly and righteously, to the point that, if your worthless, ungrateful excuse for a son hadn't gotten too power-hungry and stabbed you in the back, you would likely have been called a second Augustus!"
"I- you- I AM NERO, YOU IMPUDENT TROGLODYTE!" she snaps.
"No you're not." I manage to keep my face completely still as I lie to her face.
"I think I would know."
"I've met Nero. He was a fat, greasy, effeminate man. Unpleasantly sweaty and lecherous, too."
"What?" she seems to have no idea what to make of that, but then marshals herself. "Well, no wonder so poor an imposter deceived you, seeing as you lack even half a brain, you wretched little toad."
"Yeah, whatever." I hold out the letter. "You going to take the letter or not, Fake Nero?"
She stalks over and snatches it out of my hands. "Irrumator."
"Specta tua verba, scortilla Graeca."
She stops, staring into my eyes with naked hate. I just smirk back at her, while she takes great panting breaths, visibly restraining herself from strangling me.
Down boy, this is serious.
"If we were in Rome, I would have you crucified."
"Wouldn't you be a bit busy fiddling while it burned?" I ask mildly.
She snarls, and is about to lunge at me, when Galahad places himself between us. "Okay, that's enough out of the both of you!"
"Keep your Master properly muzzled, knight, and we will have no issues."
"Now why'd you have to butt in when I was winning?" I complain, rubbing the back of my head irritably. I think I might've picked up lice somewhere in this Singularity. I wonder if I could get rid of them by having Medusa use her Mystic Eyes.
"Winning?" Nero repeats incredulously. "I was about to beat you senseless!"
"Thereby conceding defeat," I reply, feeling the smugness course through every vein of my body. "After all, only witless, inbred fools with more muscles than brains have to resort to physical violence to win a verbal duel. To do so is to admit that you can't beat me with words, so you have to use force instead. Or, to put in words your pitiful little excuse for a brain can grasp, that I'm better than you."
"I will end you!"
"Oh, such temper! So quick to jump to the death penalty! You really are your uncle's daughter."
She takes a deep breath, and then smirks right back. "Well, at least I can actually fight my own battles, Master of Chaldea. How does it feel, knowing that a woman is more of a man than you?"
"How does it feel knowing that the only reason you aren't just another in a long line of identically named Roman nobodies is the machinations of the mother you murdered, Lucia Domitia Ahenobarba?"
"Oh my God, just fuck or kill each other already!" an unfamiliar voice shouts in exasperation. Well now that I think of it, it's actually slightly familiar.
"Ah. Fergus mac Roich," I say as I turn to look at him. "Figures you'd be working for Medb." 'All Servants, we have a hostile enemy actor on hand at my position.'
"Yes. Today, I regain the honor I lost from my indecision at Cualigne!" he boasts, thumping that absurdly phallic sword of his against his chest. "I will follow my queen's orders without question, and without hesitation."
"I take it that you're the one who destroyed the Resistance cells we ran into on our way here?" I ask, stalling for time. Wait. 'Cursed Arm, what's your current position?'
'Right behind Fergus mac Roich.'
'I freaking love you, man.' I send back, grinning wildly. 'Zabaniya him when I say "assuredly," all right?'
'Understood.'
"-but he left when he heard about Karna biting it. Said it wasn't worth it anymore, and without the chance to face him, it would just feel empty." Fergus sighs. "Shame too, he was a handy guy to have around."
So, he was partnered with Arjuna. Good to know.
"While the strongest of the Pandavas was almost assuredly a major force multiplier for you, I don't doubt that you could have pulled it off without him."
"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya." Fergus' eyes go wide, and he tries desperately to turn about and face Cursed Arm, only to fall on his side, desperately gasping for air, and then perish.
Yes!
Flynn & Arm Heart Extractors LTD is back in business!
"Right, that's Fergus dealt with. Good work team! Except you, Nero. You were pretty much useless."
"Like your loins?" I actually wince at that one, which just seems to encourage her. I don't mind, though. It's only fun if she thinks she can win.
Sadly, Galahad, buzzkill that he is, just has to break up our little verbal sparring match, and so we trudge our way back to the horse in silence.
---
Nero joins us on our way back to the rendezvous point. Although, honestly, now that I don't have to keep my opinion of her to myself or do all her paperwork, I find myself not minding her company, bizarrely enough. She's fun to argue with, at the very least.
It takes us a day to get there, and when we do, the camp is bustling. It's twice the size of the one we departed from six days ago, at minimum.
"Incredible!" Nero says as she looks at the hustle and bustle of the camp. For some reason, quite a few of the Resistance soldiers run when they see her. "My camp was never this large!"
"Probably because no one wanted to put up with your singing," I say.
She turns angrily, hands on her hips, while, at my side, Galahad quietly groans. "Not again."
"OH? And like you could do any better?" she fires back.
"Of course not. In fact, I would have to say we're equally terrible. The difference between you and me is that I, at least, don't make a fool of myself by acting beneath my station out of the delusion that I'm something I'm not." I grin. "Unlike you, I'm not one to give myself out to any passerby in a desperate bid for approval."
"Are you calling me a whore?" she asks dangerously.
"Wouldn't be the first time, but no. I'm calling you an actor and a performer, which anyone in Rome would tell you is just as bad." I smirk. "Are you sure you're even Roman, scortilla Graeca?"
"I am Rome, mongrel," she sneers back.
"Careful, there. Your father's showing."
"And your father is- Dammit!" she tosses her hands up in frustration. "This isn't remotely fair! I barely know anything about you, while you have evidently studied every last facet of my life religiously, like some kind of stalker!"
"I mean, I did write a paper on you."
She sighs. "Was it any good?"
"I got an A on it, so yes. It wasn't very flattering to you, though."
"Of course it wasn't." She looks down, and then smirks. "Your fly's unzipped."
"Wait really?" I look down to check, and the next thing I know I'm flat on my back with my ears ringing as Galahad looms over me anxiously.
"Flynn? Can you hear me?"
"Yeah," I manage, shaking my head and getting unsteadily to my feet. "What happened?"
"You finally pushed Nero too far and she decked you," Galahad reports, looking supremely irritated. "And I honestly don't blame her. Now, I hope you've learned your- WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"
I manage to quell my laughter long enough to talk. "didn't think she had it in her to swallow her pride like that!"
"…You have issues, Flynn."
"Yep. Still, I think I might actually have to call her a friend, now!" I say, grinning like a loon.
"I- What?" Galahad squawks. "Did you- Did you here anything I just said? Setting aside what she put you through in Rome, ever since you met in this Singularity, you've done nothing but bicker, you've taken every chance you can get to insult and pick fights with her, and she's returned the favor, up to and including physically assaulting you! How do you take all of that into account and come out with 'friend?'"
I just look at him.
"Why are you looking at me like that? It's a legitimate question! None of that even remotely sounds like any friendship I've seen! WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?" he finally snaps. I just point at him. "Why are you…" His face goes slack as the penny finally drops. I just laugh harder.
Then I'm flat on my back again, with my ears ringing even harder, and Galahad looming over me again, frustration writ large on his face.
"Cold-cocked me, huh?"
"Yep."
"Feeling better?"
"Much. Although you're still the most infuriating person I've ever met." I throw an arm around his shoulder and he pulls me to my feet.
"Help me to the medical tent?" I ask. "I don't think getting punched out twice is doing my brain any favors."
"Don't worry," Galahad says, matching my stumbling pace so I don't just get dragged along as we make our way to the tent. "I don't think any amount of brain damage could make that garbage fire you call a personality any worse."
"Hate you too, buddy. Hate you too."
---
After I've received a clean bill of health, I make my way to the command tent. I can hear voices coming from inside. "-and beyond that, he is the single most disrespectful person I've ever met! He bears my imperial majesty no reverence, and has not the slightest care for my greatness, or respect for my imperial position!"
"Really?" a semi-familiar, girlish voice says from inside the tent. "He seemed alright to me. Bit brusque, but not all that bad."
"Liz, you haven't had to deal with him like I have! He's an ass!"
I push my way in to the tent. Nero's still ranting to… is that Bathory? She's in this Singularity? I kind of remember something like that, but it's all fuzzy. Well, good to have her here. Anyways, Nero's back is still to me, although Bathory looks like someone who just realized they're watching a train wreck in progress.
I walk up behind Nero.
"He seems to take pleasure in infuriating me, and never misses an opportunity to provoke me!" Nero continues, oblivious. "And I can never seem to beat him! He always has a comeback, or just gives one of those insufferable smirks of his, and it just makes me want to strangle him! And every time, the urge just gets harder and harder to resist!"
Ooh, that's an opening if I ever heard one.
"Wow, struggling to keep your hands off me every time we meet?" I say from behind her. "How shameless."
She freezes, and then rounds on me, hissing like a cat and hoisting me by the collar. "HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?"
"Enough."
That one makes her hands tense around my shirt as she lets a strangled shriek. Huh. I can actually see down her dress from here.
Down, boy. I get it, she's actually really attractive when she's angry, now go away before someone sees you.
Nero hovers in front of me, her face a few inches away from mine, struggling to bring herself under control. The moment seems to stretch into an eternity, with neither of us seeming to want to break it.
"What is going on here?" General Washington demands as he enters the tent.
Nero drops me. "Absolutely nothing. Just a mild interpersonal disagreement."
He looks at me. "Flynn?"
"On that, and only that, she speaks for us both."
He sighs. "Very well. Stay in attendance. Now that you're here, and fit to attend, I've called the others to order. They'll be arriving soon."
He steps up to the map table, while Nero and I move to opposite sides of the tent.
'Flynn? What the hell was that?' Galahad sends as we walk to the corner opposite Nero's.
'Hell if I know.'
Regardless, the various servants enter, one at a time. First in after Washington is Geronimo. The next two are Billy and Robin. After them-
Oh. No way. No way that's really him. I have to restrain myself from squealing like a little girl when I realize that yes, it is in fact him.
Into the tent walks none other than Abraham Lincoln, dressed in a snappy suit, with his top hat securely wedged atop his head. He goes up to the map table besides George Washington.
"General."
"Mr. President."
I straighten my back and walk up to the map table, suddenly feeling like I've been childish. Galahad follows, looking confused.
"Are we waiting on anyone else?" I ask.
"Yes, two more."
"Very well." I turn to face the man widely remembered as America's greatest liberator. "It's an honor to meet you, President Lincoln."
"Please. The pleasure's all mine," he says with a smile.
Okay, okay, Charlie. Breathe. Don't say anything, you'll make a fool of yourself. Just… Just breathe.
Awkward silence reigns for a few more moments, before we're mercifully interrupted by the last two to arrive: Fionn and Diarmuid.
"Very well," Geronimo says, bringing all eyes to him. "We can begin."
"Indeed," Washington picks up. "I would like to begin by thanking you all for coming here. Today's plan will be a risky one indeed."
He rolls out a new map, this one apparently colored to represent who holds what territory. "This is the state of the war today. As you can see, things aren't looking good. Edison's been pushed further back, up into the northwest. He's lost Blavatsky, and in another week, they'll overrun him."
That gets a wave of concern.
"So. What do you propose we do?" I speak up.
"In a straight clash of armies, we can't beat the Celts. However, we do have a great number of Servants." He looks around between us approvingly. "Thus, our strategy. We go for the decapitation strike. Take out Medb and the corrupted Cu Chullain and the whole front collapses."
"I can work with that, actually," I interject. "I don't really do fair fights. An assassination is straight up my alley."
"Well, then." The General steps back from the table. "Do you have any suggestions?"
As I step up, I feel a grin burst into full bloom on my face. This is going to be fun.
She doesn't seem to recognize me, which I can only count as a boon, especially as it allows me to do this.
"You must be the Servant that Washington sent us to find!" I call cheerfully. "No, no, don't tell me who you are, I think I can guess." I rub my chin in contemplation. "That blond hair, so clearly born from the line of Germanicus, that imperial air of command and control, in spite of your gender, why, there is only one person you could be!"
"Yes!" she cheers smugly. "It is I-"
"Lady Agrippina!"
I don't think I've ever seen someone's face fall that fast before. "What?"
"Oh, no need to be so modest, my lady! In spite of your sex, and the ruthless means by which you seized power, you ruled justly and righteously, to the point that, if your worthless, ungrateful excuse for a son hadn't gotten too power-hungry and stabbed you in the back, you would likely have been called a second Augustus!"
"I- you- I AM NERO, YOU IMPUDENT TROGLODYTE!" she snaps.
"No you're not." I manage to keep my face completely still as I lie to her face.
"I think I would know."
"I've met Nero. He was a fat, greasy, effeminate man. Unpleasantly sweaty and lecherous, too."
"What?" she seems to have no idea what to make of that, but then marshals herself. "Well, no wonder so poor an imposter deceived you, seeing as you lack even half a brain, you wretched little toad."
"Yeah, whatever." I hold out the letter. "You going to take the letter or not, Fake Nero?"
She stalks over and snatches it out of my hands. "Irrumator."
"Specta tua verba, scortilla Graeca."
She stops, staring into my eyes with naked hate. I just smirk back at her, while she takes great panting breaths, visibly restraining herself from strangling me.
Down boy, this is serious.
"If we were in Rome, I would have you crucified."
"Wouldn't you be a bit busy fiddling while it burned?" I ask mildly.
She snarls, and is about to lunge at me, when Galahad places himself between us. "Okay, that's enough out of the both of you!"
"Keep your Master properly muzzled, knight, and we will have no issues."
"Now why'd you have to butt in when I was winning?" I complain, rubbing the back of my head irritably. I think I might've picked up lice somewhere in this Singularity. I wonder if I could get rid of them by having Medusa use her Mystic Eyes.
"Winning?" Nero repeats incredulously. "I was about to beat you senseless!"
"Thereby conceding defeat," I reply, feeling the smugness course through every vein of my body. "After all, only witless, inbred fools with more muscles than brains have to resort to physical violence to win a verbal duel. To do so is to admit that you can't beat me with words, so you have to use force instead. Or, to put in words your pitiful little excuse for a brain can grasp, that I'm better than you."
"I will end you!"
"Oh, such temper! So quick to jump to the death penalty! You really are your uncle's daughter."
She takes a deep breath, and then smirks right back. "Well, at least I can actually fight my own battles, Master of Chaldea. How does it feel, knowing that a woman is more of a man than you?"
"How does it feel knowing that the only reason you aren't just another in a long line of identically named Roman nobodies is the machinations of the mother you murdered, Lucia Domitia Ahenobarba?"
"Oh my God, just fuck or kill each other already!" an unfamiliar voice shouts in exasperation. Well now that I think of it, it's actually slightly familiar.
"Ah. Fergus mac Roich," I say as I turn to look at him. "Figures you'd be working for Medb." 'All Servants, we have a hostile enemy actor on hand at my position.'
"Yes. Today, I regain the honor I lost from my indecision at Cualigne!" he boasts, thumping that absurdly phallic sword of his against his chest. "I will follow my queen's orders without question, and without hesitation."
"I take it that you're the one who destroyed the Resistance cells we ran into on our way here?" I ask, stalling for time. Wait. 'Cursed Arm, what's your current position?'
'Right behind Fergus mac Roich.'
'I freaking love you, man.' I send back, grinning wildly. 'Zabaniya him when I say "assuredly," all right?'
'Understood.'
"-but he left when he heard about Karna biting it. Said it wasn't worth it anymore, and without the chance to face him, it would just feel empty." Fergus sighs. "Shame too, he was a handy guy to have around."
So, he was partnered with Arjuna. Good to know.
"While the strongest of the Pandavas was almost assuredly a major force multiplier for you, I don't doubt that you could have pulled it off without him."
"Delusional Heartbeat: Zabaniya." Fergus' eyes go wide, and he tries desperately to turn about and face Cursed Arm, only to fall on his side, desperately gasping for air, and then perish.
Yes!
Flynn & Arm Heart Extractors LTD is back in business!
"Right, that's Fergus dealt with. Good work team! Except you, Nero. You were pretty much useless."
"Like your loins?" I actually wince at that one, which just seems to encourage her. I don't mind, though. It's only fun if she thinks she can win.
Sadly, Galahad, buzzkill that he is, just has to break up our little verbal sparring match, and so we trudge our way back to the horse in silence.
---
Nero joins us on our way back to the rendezvous point. Although, honestly, now that I don't have to keep my opinion of her to myself or do all her paperwork, I find myself not minding her company, bizarrely enough. She's fun to argue with, at the very least.
It takes us a day to get there, and when we do, the camp is bustling. It's twice the size of the one we departed from six days ago, at minimum.
"Incredible!" Nero says as she looks at the hustle and bustle of the camp. For some reason, quite a few of the Resistance soldiers run when they see her. "My camp was never this large!"
"Probably because no one wanted to put up with your singing," I say.
She turns angrily, hands on her hips, while, at my side, Galahad quietly groans. "Not again."
"OH? And like you could do any better?" she fires back.
"Of course not. In fact, I would have to say we're equally terrible. The difference between you and me is that I, at least, don't make a fool of myself by acting beneath my station out of the delusion that I'm something I'm not." I grin. "Unlike you, I'm not one to give myself out to any passerby in a desperate bid for approval."
"Are you calling me a whore?" she asks dangerously.
"Wouldn't be the first time, but no. I'm calling you an actor and a performer, which anyone in Rome would tell you is just as bad." I smirk. "Are you sure you're even Roman, scortilla Graeca?"
"I am Rome, mongrel," she sneers back.
"Careful, there. Your father's showing."
"And your father is- Dammit!" she tosses her hands up in frustration. "This isn't remotely fair! I barely know anything about you, while you have evidently studied every last facet of my life religiously, like some kind of stalker!"
"I mean, I did write a paper on you."
She sighs. "Was it any good?"
"I got an A on it, so yes. It wasn't very flattering to you, though."
"Of course it wasn't." She looks down, and then smirks. "Your fly's unzipped."
"Wait really?" I look down to check, and the next thing I know I'm flat on my back with my ears ringing as Galahad looms over me anxiously.
"Flynn? Can you hear me?"
"Yeah," I manage, shaking my head and getting unsteadily to my feet. "What happened?"
"You finally pushed Nero too far and she decked you," Galahad reports, looking supremely irritated. "And I honestly don't blame her. Now, I hope you've learned your- WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"
I manage to quell my laughter long enough to talk. "didn't think she had it in her to swallow her pride like that!"
"…You have issues, Flynn."
"Yep. Still, I think I might actually have to call her a friend, now!" I say, grinning like a loon.
"I- What?" Galahad squawks. "Did you- Did you here anything I just said? Setting aside what she put you through in Rome, ever since you met in this Singularity, you've done nothing but bicker, you've taken every chance you can get to insult and pick fights with her, and she's returned the favor, up to and including physically assaulting you! How do you take all of that into account and come out with 'friend?'"
I just look at him.
"Why are you looking at me like that? It's a legitimate question! None of that even remotely sounds like any friendship I've seen! WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?" he finally snaps. I just point at him. "Why are you…" His face goes slack as the penny finally drops. I just laugh harder.
Then I'm flat on my back again, with my ears ringing even harder, and Galahad looming over me again, frustration writ large on his face.
"Cold-cocked me, huh?"
"Yep."
"Feeling better?"
"Much. Although you're still the most infuriating person I've ever met." I throw an arm around his shoulder and he pulls me to my feet.
"Help me to the medical tent?" I ask. "I don't think getting punched out twice is doing my brain any favors."
"Don't worry," Galahad says, matching my stumbling pace so I don't just get dragged along as we make our way to the tent. "I don't think any amount of brain damage could make that garbage fire you call a personality any worse."
"Hate you too, buddy. Hate you too."
---
After I've received a clean bill of health, I make my way to the command tent. I can hear voices coming from inside. "-and beyond that, he is the single most disrespectful person I've ever met! He bears my imperial majesty no reverence, and has not the slightest care for my greatness, or respect for my imperial position!"
"Really?" a semi-familiar, girlish voice says from inside the tent. "He seemed alright to me. Bit brusque, but not all that bad."
"Liz, you haven't had to deal with him like I have! He's an ass!"
I push my way in to the tent. Nero's still ranting to… is that Bathory? She's in this Singularity? I kind of remember something like that, but it's all fuzzy. Well, good to have her here. Anyways, Nero's back is still to me, although Bathory looks like someone who just realized they're watching a train wreck in progress.
I walk up behind Nero.
"He seems to take pleasure in infuriating me, and never misses an opportunity to provoke me!" Nero continues, oblivious. "And I can never seem to beat him! He always has a comeback, or just gives one of those insufferable smirks of his, and it just makes me want to strangle him! And every time, the urge just gets harder and harder to resist!"
Ooh, that's an opening if I ever heard one.
"Wow, struggling to keep your hands off me every time we meet?" I say from behind her. "How shameless."
She freezes, and then rounds on me, hissing like a cat and hoisting me by the collar. "HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?"
"Enough."
That one makes her hands tense around my shirt as she lets a strangled shriek. Huh. I can actually see down her dress from here.
Down, boy. I get it, she's actually really attractive when she's angry, now go away before someone sees you.
Nero hovers in front of me, her face a few inches away from mine, struggling to bring herself under control. The moment seems to stretch into an eternity, with neither of us seeming to want to break it.
"What is going on here?" General Washington demands as he enters the tent.
Nero drops me. "Absolutely nothing. Just a mild interpersonal disagreement."
He looks at me. "Flynn?"
"On that, and only that, she speaks for us both."
He sighs. "Very well. Stay in attendance. Now that you're here, and fit to attend, I've called the others to order. They'll be arriving soon."
He steps up to the map table, while Nero and I move to opposite sides of the tent.
'Flynn? What the hell was that?' Galahad sends as we walk to the corner opposite Nero's.
'Hell if I know.'
Regardless, the various servants enter, one at a time. First in after Washington is Geronimo. The next two are Billy and Robin. After them-
Oh. No way. No way that's really him. I have to restrain myself from squealing like a little girl when I realize that yes, it is in fact him.
Into the tent walks none other than Abraham Lincoln, dressed in a snappy suit, with his top hat securely wedged atop his head. He goes up to the map table besides George Washington.
"General."
"Mr. President."
I straighten my back and walk up to the map table, suddenly feeling like I've been childish. Galahad follows, looking confused.
"Are we waiting on anyone else?" I ask.
"Yes, two more."
"Very well." I turn to face the man widely remembered as America's greatest liberator. "It's an honor to meet you, President Lincoln."
"Please. The pleasure's all mine," he says with a smile.
Okay, okay, Charlie. Breathe. Don't say anything, you'll make a fool of yourself. Just… Just breathe.
Awkward silence reigns for a few more moments, before we're mercifully interrupted by the last two to arrive: Fionn and Diarmuid.
"Very well," Geronimo says, bringing all eyes to him. "We can begin."
"Indeed," Washington picks up. "I would like to begin by thanking you all for coming here. Today's plan will be a risky one indeed."
He rolls out a new map, this one apparently colored to represent who holds what territory. "This is the state of the war today. As you can see, things aren't looking good. Edison's been pushed further back, up into the northwest. He's lost Blavatsky, and in another week, they'll overrun him."
That gets a wave of concern.
"So. What do you propose we do?" I speak up.
"In a straight clash of armies, we can't beat the Celts. However, we do have a great number of Servants." He looks around between us approvingly. "Thus, our strategy. We go for the decapitation strike. Take out Medb and the corrupted Cu Chullain and the whole front collapses."
"I can work with that, actually," I interject. "I don't really do fair fights. An assassination is straight up my alley."
"Well, then." The General steps back from the table. "Do you have any suggestions?"
As I step up, I feel a grin burst into full bloom on my face. This is going to be fun.
Silver W. King
King of Adventures
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
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Welp, apparently "a clean slate" isn't in your dictionary...but apparently "hate sex" is?
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Narmish
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jun 29, 2018
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- 591
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So MC can actually stand Nero Bride and has some sexual tension with her? I am guessing that Nero either as a servant (thus separate from the beast) or as a bride (more outward looking than inward) is more tolerable? I am mostly just thankful this isn't a replay of how much MC can drop the ball when he dislikes a coworker.
Bear_Mint
The LewdBringer. The Breast Observer.
- Joined
- May 29, 2020
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Well, that went better than I expected. Scornful banter between two people with the possibility of hate sex. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if every romance Charlie has is hate sex.
FourthPear
Frequent Flier.
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2017
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I dig it. That's why I like his interactions with Galahad/Mash too.
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