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After the Fourth Great Shinobi World War ended, the world was experiencing a time of peace. The villages for once were able to live in relative harmony with one another as they rebuilt, and for once, all seemed to be well. The kage were able to live peaceful lives and soon began retiring, passing on the baton to the next generations. That is until an unknown virus infects the northern coast. The first to fall is the once powerful Raikage, Ay. While many thought this virus was a simple mutation of what may have well been the flu, no one would ever think of the destruction it would cause. Especially when it infected a certain Uzumaki Naruto.
With his death came the malice; with the malice came the destruction; with the destruction came the shinobi' revolt; and with the revolt came the sacrifices. The Bijuu became filled with malice that they sought to destroy the world. Shinobi sought a way to fight them and once again capture each of the Bijuu. Time passed, and a plan was devised. The Jinchuuriki would be sacrificed for the greater good of the world, and with the deaths of nine individuals, an uneasy peace began.
As time continued, the villages began to truly restructure. In a peace that would last 80 years after the downfall of the Bijuu, the world would see the creation of a great many things. Technology was beginning to take root and before long the blossoms that grew from the tree of the advanced mind would bear fruit. A many great things came to be. A railroad between the vast many nations. Mechanical limbs to replace lost ones. Radios that could reach between villages. Everything seemed to be becoming less reliant on the shinobi. Only the need for them never truly vanished. As with the growth of time, also continued the growth of malice.
So here's a thing I'm working on in my spare time. It's a crossover between Fate/Stay Night and Kingdom Hearts. I've put way too much time into planning this one out, but I have no idea how it's going so far. This is long as hell and not even completed yet, but if y'all wanted to skim through it and critique, that'd be swell. Be forewarned, there will be typos as this isn't even the completed rough draft of chapter one yet.
It was without a doubt a tense situation, likely the tensest that the boy before him had ever encountered throughout the few experiences dredged up throughout his comparatively meager lifespan. After all, it wasn’t every day a teenager chose to throw himself into conflicts as merciless and savage as the Holy Grail War. It wasn’t a contest meant for the weak of heart; it was a competition soaked in the blood of the innocent and guilty alike, akin to massacre wherein only those of strength, cunning, and indomitable force of will could possess even a shred of hope for victory.
He knew what to expect, as did any heroic spirit upon being called forth to the realm of the living.
His master was born into a family of considerable power, trained in the ways of magecraft from the moment he was able to stand on his own two legs. After all, only those with nothing short of absolute confidence in their abilities would dare to enter the Holy Grail War with any hopes of success.
His master undoubtedly possessed an elaborate sigil carved into his flesh, through which the redhead could channel the wisdom and power of a lineage stretching back hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years. After all, only those in possession of powerful magical skills would dare to enter the Holy Grail War and expect to live to tell the tale.
His master had trained and practiced for years without respite, mastering every arcane secret without his grasp with a fervor no mere mortal could hope to comprehend. After all, only those with unending drive and determination would dare enter the Holy Grail War and believe themselves prepared enough for the bloodbath that would soon ensue.
Yet as he look into this boy’s face he saw none of these things. What should have been confidence was instead overwritten with bewilderment tinged with fear and apprehension – his widened eyes darted around the room, pupils enlarged to the point where he could barely make out the mahogany hue of his irises. T
Nothing about this boy matched the hardened killer he’d expected to greet him upon his return to the mortal plain.
And once again, Sora found himself wondering what power-that-be he’d angered for such bad luck to befall him.
“Woah, sorry, that got pretty heavy there. The whole ‘being pulled through time and space instantaneously’ thing doesn’t exactly do wonders for one’s mood.” The brunette flashed the cheesiest grin he could muster, showing off two rows of pearlescent teeth that seemed to sparkle with a light of their own in the moonlight.
A few moments of painstaking silence followed Sora’s announcement. The girl just glared at him with an expression so unbelievably icy that Sora felt as though his body temperature was dropping by the second. The boy just sat there, mouth opening and closing as if he was struggling to put the words to his thoughts.
Sora sighed, “Look, you should be able to articulate yourself in front of a pretty girl at your age, spit it out alrea-”
“Who are you? Who are both of you?”
Sora blinked owlishly at the boy’s blunt inquiry. “Um…” He allowed some of his confusion and apprehension to leak into his response, “Shouldn't you already know that?”
The boy just shook his head wordlessly.
“Right.” Great. The kid summoned his servant without using a focus to determine who he’d end up with. “Well my name is Sora, and I’m the certified badass who will be killing people in your stead for the next week or so.”
Now that he had a few moments to get acclimated to his surroundings, things were starting to jump out at him. Like the gaping hole where he assumed a door once stood.
Or the stoic blonde-haired beauty in an armored dress - which, incidentally, was probably going to make his top ten list of 'stupid crap no one in their right mid would actually wear into battle.'
Or the fact that the blonde was a servant calling the boy her master, when Sora was pretty confident that he was the one that was brought forth as the teenager’s servant.
Or the red-haired mortal who was looking between Sora and the blonde with an expression of absolute bewilderment, who clearly had no idea what was happening.
“Why would I want you to hurt anyone?” The boy looked stricken, his expression something of a cross between shock and horror simultaneously.
Sora found himself resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Well you can’t go winning the Holy Grail War by playing nice and holding hands with everyone.
The black-clad man shrugged, "If you’re saying you’ve too much of a pussy to get the job done, just give me free reign and I’ll go chop up the competition into itty bitty pieces on my own.”
“No! What are you even talking about with this ‘Holy Grail’ nonsense?” --> Shirou
“Well gee, the Holy Grail isn’t just a great movie about whips and Nazis. Did plucking me out of space and time addle your brains?” Sora frowned, _____
“I believe that my master ____” ---> Saber
“My master.” ---> Sora
TRANSISTION SHIZ • SHIROU starts talking about... something, dunno what yet • SABER gets tired of being ignored and speakers up • SORa and SABER butt heads momentarily • SABER reacts to lancer trying to take out Shirou in the confusion • SABER defends and launches Lancer outside • SABER says something cool or whatnot and jumps outside to deal more with lancer • Sora makes some clever one-liner and follows her
Sora, the self-proclaimed King of Hearts, master of all Keyblades past and future, savior of all creation, Bane of darkness and all its acolytes. The voice in the back of his head, eerily similar to his own, was undeniably amused for reasons known only to it. A being of irrefutable power, so stubborn and defiant that he could even reject death itself when everything was on the line. And this is how you spend your first moments back in reality? Taunting a scared little kid, and watching someone else fight your battles for you?
“Why Roxas, if I didn’t know about better I’d say you were implying something,” Sora stated aloud in the blandest tone he coudl manage. He already knew what his nobody was going to say – after all, they’d been stuck together for so long that the blonde might as well have been part of his mind. Still, Sora chose to play innocent and let his mind buffy have his moment.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say lounging around that Throne has made you soft, Roxas told him with a bark of laughter. Sora just shrugged, watching the blue-suited man flip about the yard in a manner not unlike some of the superhero shows he’d watched as a kid.
“So my corners are a little rounder than they used to be. At least the beer belly isn’t showing.” Another bark of laughter rang through his mind like the echoing of a dozen chimes. Manly chimes.
And you wonder why the blonde over there didn’t believe you’re the kid’s servant. Sora rolled his eyes.
“Please, you just have a thing for blondes. You’d be taking her side even if she was poking holes in my liver with her sword…” His voice trailed off as he observed the titanic clash taking place before him. “Actually, I guess that’s not a sword. Or maybe it is?”
Beats me. I stopped trying to understand magical weapons after you and Cid made that one gunblade. Sora frowned, rummaging through dust-covered memories of the hours he’d spent with the man in his later years. You know which one I’m talking about
“No I don’t….” Sora found himself smiling at the particular reference his nobody was making. “Oh come on, that was awesome and you know it.”
Why couldn’t you just make it shoot bullets? At least that would have been practical!
“It was plenty practical! Plus it could hold more bullets that way, if you think about it.” Sora frowned and crossed his arms. The two had the same disagreement all those years back – at least then he had Cid to back him up. Now it was just him and the nobody, all alone in his vast expanse that was his ancient mind.
There will never been a time nor place in all the universe where a Gunblade that literally shoots actual guns at people will be useful.
“You just think that because you have no imagination. That thing was great, the patent made us millions.”
No, you LOST millions, remember? Sora felt his shoulders droop slightly at the correction, realizing his nobody was, for once, in the right. Granted millions hadn't been that much for him back in ye olden days, but who honestly liked losing that much money all at once.
“You’re just biased is all, we need a fresh mind to be the judge.” Sora brightened up and waved his hands in the girl’s direction. “Hey! Wannabe Saber lady! What do you think of a sword that shoots guns that can shoot bullets? It’s sounds awesome, right?”
“Now is-” Saber’s invisible weapon collided with a crimson speakers, forcing her to grunt in exertion as she pushed forward and launched her foe backwards through the air. “-not the time for casual exchanges!”
‘Shut it, blondie.’ Sora briefly rolled his eyes at the Nobody’s smugness before turning his attention outward to the situation at hand. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if adding the chainsaw bullets to the guns would have upped the appeal a bit.
“You can’t tell me what to do, you don’t have my command seals.” Sora shouted back at the woman before pausing thoughtfully. "Speaking of which,” Sora turned and called toward the star-struck high schooler, who was still rooted in place at the shed’s doorway. “If you try to use any of my seals to shut me up, I’ll personally lock the doors and windows to every bathroom you ever try to use during this war.”
Shirou just shot Sora an even more incredulous look – something that was just downright impressive, considering how overwhelmed the high school student already looked. “Wait, command what?”
But by the time the redhead had managed to articulate that short phrase, Sora was already gone. Regardless of how annoying the nobody could be, Roxas had a point. He hadn’t lifted a keyblade, or any weapon for that matter, in countless years. While he was pretty sure servants were supposed to be summoned at the peak of their ability, he wasn’t entirely sure. And the best way to test that theory was standing right in front of him, in the form of a spear-wielding menace.
SUMMONS WEAPON, THINKS IT’LL BE A KEYBLADE – ENDS UP BEING THE DREAM SWORD GOES ALL WTF, REALIZES HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT HIS NOBLE PHANTASMS ARE ALSO REALIZES HE DOESN’T ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT CLASS HE IS
Sora leapt forward and delivered an airborne slash into the cloud of dust and debris kicked up by the Lancer’s impact, only to find his weapon passing through thin air. He blinked owlishly as the balls of his feet hit the ground and brought his momentum to an entirely unexpected halt.
That… was not supposed to happen. When he tried to hit something, either one of two things happened. The first – and far more likely – involved his weapon chopping up his target into bite-size pieces in the blink of an eye. Not that he was usually aiming for bite size pieces, it’s just that things tended not to bounce back from being diced like a sweet potato.
Cannibalism was gross. Last time he’d come across that, Jack was playing pretend and Will had been moments away from turning into a glorified cut of Ney York Strip.
In the few cases where he couldn’t finish off victims in a single blow, Sora usually ended up using a follow-up blow a split second after the fact that finished the job. Granted, he almost always assumed that the first strike would never miss, so it wasn’t too often he had to use a second blow. It could be blocked on occasion, but it never outright missed the target.
But in the moment had just passed, neither of those two blows had come to fruition.
He’d missed his first swing – not exactly unexpected, considering his foe was presumably a heroic spirit. But curiously – and perhaps disturbingly – Sora hadn’t the chance to unleash a second swing to correct his miscalculation.
And it wasn’t that the opportunity hadn’t arisen – there was always an opportunity, even if it wasn’t an ideal opening. It was that Sora wasn’t able to take advantage of it due to the sheer speed at which his foe had backed away from him.
The moment his weapon had finished traveling the arc of his first blow, the blue-clad warrior had just vanished into thin air. One moment he’d been standing there, crimson eyes ablaze with intrigue, and the next he just… wasn’t.
Which should have been impossible.
Behind him, Sora could already hear and feel the impacts from the dueling blonde and… whatever one calls a blue-haired girly-man. If he wasn’t so baffled by that turn of events, he would have been downright offended. Granted, if he was in the Lancer’s shoes he’d have gone for the pretty one first to at least enjoy the view.
Sora knew what abilities he possessed, and he knew that at the very least he should have been able to land a glancing hit at such close range. It was a skill honed over decades and centuries of practice, so deeply ingrained in his style that such reflexes were borderline instinctual.
That left the brunet with one question; what sort of monster was he facing?
And what sort of monster was that girl if she was able to keep up with their shared adversary?
“What’s the matter Lancer? If you stand there, you’ll give spearmen a bad name. If you will not come to me, I shall come to you.” The girl smirked at the annoyed twitch suddenly plaguing Lancer’s leftmost eye. Still he managed to keep his composition, speaking with a level, purposeful tone.
“Before you do, let me ask you one thing. Your noble phantasm…” He paused, the moonlight reflecting from his eyes as if it were a triumphant gleam, “Is it a sword?”
“Who can say?” Saber smirked, glancing at the wind-encircled tool clenched in her armored hand. “It may be a battle axe. Or perhaps a polearm. Or it might even be a bow, Lancer.”
“Oooh, oooh, the guessing game! I bet it’s a scythe!”
Saber and Lancer both paused mid-banter, their weapons loosening ever so slightly in their hands – and simultaneously turned to level an incredulous look in Sora’s direction.
“What?” The black-clad swordsman barked out defensively. “Scythes can be practical sometimes. I knew a guy who used one.” He frowned. “Well, I used to know one. Don’t really remember much about him other than the fabulous hairdo. Goddamn Namine.” Sora added that last part under his breath, just for his sake. And for his other half.
Shut your goddamn whore mouth, you spiky-haired son of a bitch.
Speaking of his other half… Sora turned a glare inward at the angry presence raging within the confines of his mind. ‘Oh come on, you know she screwed me over until the very end.’
She was literally perfect, end of story. The nobody’s word were slow, each syllable heavy with purpose and emotion. Some might have backed down at this point, knowing they’d happened upon a rather sensitive topic.
Sora, however, was not that type of person.
‘Whatever bro. You know she wanted me. What with the whole ‘replacing Kairi with herself’ in my mind shtick that went down.’ He paused, considering the wisdom of his next words. ‘So I guess, in a way, she –literally- wanted to screw-’
There was silence. And then.
OH I AM GONNA RIP OUT YOUR FUCKING THROAT YOU- Sora rolled his eyes and concentrated, pushing the nobody’s presence to the back of his mind where his ranting was much simpler to ignore. He’d probably end up paying for it later… but hey, he’d take a victory where he could get one.
“Is now really the time for such irrelevant asides?” Saber half-muttered, her musings barely audible even amongst the dead silence permeating the night air. Still, it was enough to bring the man’s awareness back to reality.
“Hey, any time is story time if you try hard enough.” Sora shrugged and turns his open palms upward.
“I see we have a joker amidst us tonight, Saber” Lancer grumbled, “While you are still a stranger to me, this too shall be where you fall. Two birds with one stone, as they say.” The blue haired man took a step backwards and spread his grip along the shaft of his weapon as far as his arms would reach.
“With you joining our ranks, all the servants have been summoned,” Lancer continued as wisps of red light began to swirl around his polearm. "And after tonight, my master will have one six servants with which to concern himself."
Sora raised his hand. “Actually, you should check your math.”
Lancer paused, casting a cursory “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You said she was the seventh." The black-clad warrior shrugged, "but see, that implies she’s the servant that boy brought forth into this world.”
“There’s no question that I am my master’s servant,” the woman's words were short and taut, clearly irritated with the situation unfolding before her. Undoubtedly she was less than pleased about Sora forcing himself into their duel; then again, Sora didn't particularly care.
“I’m questioning it,” Sora shot back almost instantaneously.
“What, are you saying there’s another servant in our midst tonight?” Sora shrugged and pointed at himself. “Who, you?”
“No, just one of my multiple personalities.” He paused, his curiosity getting the best of him. “Actually hang on, let me check.”
Sora turned his gaze inward, rooting around for the little ball of light that was his nobody. He'd been surprisingly quiet since the whole Namine thing. Normally he'd rage for hours on end, then just give up and sulk for the next couple days. ‘Hey buddy, have you calmed down yet at –‘
I swear, next time you let me out I’m taking our left nut just to spite you! I’ll saw it off with a goddamn rusty bread knife, and then I’ll -
“Okay, nevermind, other me is under the weather right now. Chronic bitchfit syndrome. Don’t worry, it isn’t contagious.” Sora actually winced when Roxas hurled himself against the barriers he’d placed up in his mind to contain the nobody’s unbridled fury. Man, he hadn’t ticked off the blonde this badly in years.
He was out of practice if it took him this long to reduce the nobody to a frothing-at-the-mouth kind of rage.
MORE BANTER! IT’S NEVER ENOUGH. LIKE THAT EMINEM SONG. WITHOUT THE RAPPING, BECAUSE LIKE HELL I’M PUTTING ANOTHER SONG INTO MY FANFIC LIKE I DID BACK IN HIGH SCHOOL WHEN I WAS SOCIALLY INEPT.
“I know not how you came to be here, but I know that you cannot be a servant. Perhaps you are a familiar belonging to this Saber, or perhaps you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, it matters not.” Lancer took a step towards Sora, “You too shall join her and her master in-”
“Is it already marching band season?” Sora pondered aloud, deliberately cutting the blue-clad warriors little monologue. “I didn’t realize they were holding color guard practice already. I think you forgot the flag.” Visibly taken aback, the ethereal light faded away from Lancer’s spear as he leveled an absolutely murderous glare in Sora’s direction.
“A color-what?” A confused, distinctly-teenaged voice rang out.
Later, Sora would find himself retrospectively wondering why his master chose to react to that particular statement, out of all the fantastical things he was seeing and listening to at that point. He’d also find himself wondering if marching bands were even a thing in Japan.
Seriously, with how little space they had, and the lack of good ol’ American football, it wouldn’t have surprised him too much.
Lancer ignored the brunet’s taunt and instead turned to Saber, the crimson glow once again returning to this spear. “Swordswoman! Since this is our first meeting, would you be interested in calling this a draw?” The veins around his eyes seemed to bubble and bulge in anticipation of her answer.
Well, either that or Sora’s brain was addled from being dragged through time and space and stuffed into a fake body made by a giant, glorified cup. Maybe it was a bit of both, really. Still, people’s eyes weren’t supposed to do that last he checked.
Then again, servants weren’t exactly ‘people’ themselves.
“Yo, I’m still right here! Don’t you ignore me! I ignore YOU!”
Saber took a step forward, shoving Sora backwards with a free hand and ignoring his injured pride at being manhandled and ignored so freely. “I think not Lancer. This is where you shall fall tonight.”
“In that case…” Lancer trailed off, the momentary pause in conversation abruptly broken by an explosion of crimson light engulfing his spear and the veins around his eyes bulging out as if they were about to explode. “I’ll have your heart!”
LANCER THROWS HIS SHIT
“I’m the only one who gets a claim on anyone’s heart!” Sora’s voice rang out above the unholy screeching from flying projectile, his arm splayed forward as if to stop it with naught but gloved, calloused hands. The weapon soared through the air like some sort of brain-damaged pigeon, leaping all about and rapidly and, rather erratically, approaching its target.
If the situation weren’t so dire, Sora would have made some comment about Lancer’s shitty aim and needing to use what he assumed to be the handheld equivalent of a homing missile to hit his mark.
But there wasn’t any time. He and Saber had maybe half a moment before that spear reached them, and god knows what would happen when it did. Sora wasn’t about to risk his neck for a half-assed one-liner.
“Get out of the way!” Sora took a step forward, shoving Saber to the side as she had done to him just moments before. He reached deep within him, to the very depths of his magical core, as far as he could reach in his current state – and pulled out everything he could with a roar:
“INCANTATION (IN OTHER LANGUAGE) FOR REFLECT!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Saber watched the brunet throw his hands up as a pulse of white light exploded outward from his open palms. Then her eyes widened as that light swirled forward as if it were some sort of gas, materializing into panel of solid, luminescent in front of her and her supposed ally.
Not a moment after the hexagonal tiles materialized, Lancer’s spear collided with it with enough force to carve through solid granite.
In her astonishment, Saber failed to notice Sora’s grunts and curses of exertion. His fingers shook violently as he expelled even more magic in an attempt to reinforce his spell. The wall flashed and screamed under the stress of the foe’s weapon, cracks spreading through its luminescent form like so many tiny spider webs.
Sora’s barriers were potent; once, they had held back forces that could have torn Kingdom Hearts asunder, albeit for only a short time. A barrier that none had managed to break through in all his years – and it wasn’t enough to stop this Noble Phantasm.
No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t the spell – it was him. Something was missing. No matter how much magic he poured out, no matter had deep he delved into depths of his heart, there just wasn’t enough to get the job done.
And so the barrier he had just conjured was not one that could stop the supernova of a dying sun. Even so, a barrier forged of his own power should have been more than enough to stop a Noble Phantasm.
But in that splint instant he realized something felt inherently wrong about this body. His magic didn’t feel like a solid which he could precisely measure out and mold. It was more like a liquid. Fluid, hard to control, impossible to precisely measure without spilling over the rim of his glass or only filling it up part-way.
The magic flowing from his fingertips was no steady stream, but more akin to a haphazard series of droplets falling from a leaky faucet. Some big, some small, but even if they were all drawn together into a bucket they would not be enough for the task at hand.
And it would cost him her life.
All it took was a mere two seconds for the spear to shatter the barrier as if it were made of glass; but in the eyes of a servant, that might as well have been an hour or even a day’s time. With grace only a woman of her beauty could possess she turned to the side, watching the spear pass harmlessly by her as though it were merely a passing breeze. Sora felt a sigh of relief escaping from between his tightly clenched teeth-
Saber stopped moving. Sora stopped breathing. She looked downed, watching an all-too familiar spear of crimson sunder her armor and dig into her shoulder. A spear she knew she had just avoided, a spear which there could be no more than one of in the entire world. And she could do nothing but watch as it tore a hole through her collarbone and flew through her body.
She stumbled backward, digging her invisible blade into the earth as a crutch in an attempt to stay upright. Her attempt would have surely failed, were it not for Sora’s arm reaching out and slinking underneath her arms as she began to slip backwards.
Lancer skidded to a halt and leveled an absolutely feral glare towards the two. “So, you managed to dodge my fatal strike after all.”
Sora removed his arm as the girl regained her balance. “A curse?” She mused, looking at the blackness covering her wound and the red sparks that leapt from its depths. “No, a strike that always strikes true. One that can reverse time and space itself to hit its mark.”
Sora’s eyes widened in realization. “So that’s how you broke through my barrier.” Lancer just chuckled, twirling his spear about and draping it across his shoulder.
Well fuck me.
For the first time in a while, Sora felt inclined to agree with his mental roommate’s assessment.
“Also how the hell did you figure that out so quickly? Like, do people go messing with the time-space continuum around you often or something?” Sora shot at the bloodied girl, his brow drawn tight in confusion. If it had been up to him, he would have just said ‘oh hey, that’s spear’s magic okay cool’ and been done with it. He’d never been one for in-depth analysis of his opponent’s in the midst of battle.
“That barrier was just weak, plain and simple.” Sora felt his free hand inadvertently clenched into a fist, his knuckles popping one by one at the tightness of his grip. If it weren’t for the bloodied woman struggling to maintain her footing, he’d have launched himself at the blue-clad spearman without a second thought. “Still, I am impressed. Just a mere human yet you managed to call forth a shield that could blow a normal blow from my spear with no formal incantation.”
Sora shrugged, stepping in front of the blonde with his weapon pointed straight at the foe. “What can I say, I’ve had an awful lot of practice. Also, not human. Servant, yo.”
The man grinned and let out a bark of laughter. “I can see now that your earlier claim was merely a bluff. That was the kind of barrier even a novice mage could through up on a whim.”
Nobody noticed the rain cloud forming over Shirou’s head at that statement.
“Yeah, me servant. You servant. She servant, at least I think. We’re all servants. I didn’t realize I was teaching kindergarten again.” Sora frowned. “Not that I ever did, wasn’t cut out for it. Too many diapers.”
Lancer just continued to chuckle. “You’re an amusing one, human. Claiming to be a servant and trying to face me down, even with Saber injured as she is so she can’t protect you. Maybe there’s some fun still to be had tonight after all.”
“You’ve got a messed up definition of fun if your idea of it is stabbing pretty girls, buddy,” the brunet retorted, taking his free hand and wrapping it around his weapon. “I’m not so much into it, myself. In fact, you could say it downright pisses me off something terrible.”
“Also, again, I’m no mere human.” If Sora had been a particularly skilled in strategy, he might have realized at that moment that revealing his identity would be a less-than-wise choice. Of course, he had always been much more suited to the hard-headed approach; screw tactics, just hit harder than they do and make sure they fall first.
“Oh? What does that mean?”
Granted, the years had managed to somewhat temper his brutish approach to conflict. And while at heart he was ______________
“It means that I’m that boy’s real servant.” Sora rolled his eyes, wondering how many times he’d have to repeat that particular fact this even. “Well, I think. It’s no very clear yet, but I’m just going to assume blondie here was brought along to be my personal maid or something.”
Sora audibly groaned. ‘Shut it, I’m in the middle of mid-fight banter here. It’s the most important kind of banter.’
Fair enough. Jackass.
'Yup, still bitter.'
“Two servants?” Lancer’s eyes looked the black-clad warrior up and down a few times, now with only half-hearted chuckles escaping from under his breath. “You jest. I felt your sword earlier – it’s weak. And with her,” he jerked a thumb towards the bloodied girl, “all seven have come forth. There’s no place for your deception now.”
SORA CHUCKS SABER AT SHIROU LIKE A RAG DOLL BECASE FUCK YOU.
With that Sora charged toward once again, lashing out with his blade with a blow meant to bifurcate his foe in one clean swipe. And once again, he found his blade passing through naught but thin air, the target of his ire mere inches away from the tip of his blade.
GOD WRITE THIS BETTER YOU DUMBASS.
With a few backwards steps the key bearer removed himself from Lancer’s reach.
The wheels in Sora’s head started to chug as he watched that damned spear approach his face like a bullet train flying off the tracks. He couldn’t raise his blade in time, and there was no way in hell his reflect magic would be able to manifest quickly enough. That thing would run through his skull like a toothpick through a pig in the blanket.
So instead, he found himself ignoring his choice in food-based analogy and turning to a time-honored tactic favored by the desperate and underhanded: pure, unadulterated shock value.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
Lancer’s weapon, no more than a hair’s breadth from Sora’s nose, froze in place. “Excuse me?”
“No seriously, what is that thing?” Sora’s took a step forward safely out of reach, stroking his chin musingly. “I didn’t know zentai was back in style. Are you going to an orgy later ot something?”
“What does it matter what clothing I’ve donned?” Lancer snapped. This stranger, who looked no older than the boy he had run through not mere hours ago, was talking to him as if he were a parent talking to his child. As if he was trying to demean him!
“Master, now would be a good time to remove yourself from the battle while Lancer is distracted,” Sora picked up Saber’s whisperings behind him and whirled about, turning his back to the baffled Lancer.
“I’m asking a damn question that my master is undoubtedly interested in, lady!” Sora snapped whilst deftly ducking downward to avoid a spear head swinging in the general direction of his throat. “He’s at that age where girls start to smell pretty to him after all! If you really think you’re his Saber you should let me figure this out! He’d appreciate it!”
“What?!” This time a somewhat more masculine and raspy cried out.
“Not now master, I’m getting the details for you, just be patient!” Sora found himself backing up in another series of jukes to avoid a rapid flurry of thrusts cumulating in an undeniably impressive feint.
“Now, is she invited?” Sora jerked a thumb words Saber, ignoring the shocked gap and overwhelming murderous presence the gesture brought forth. “Because if so I’m totally in. Is there a down payment? Background check? Medical examination?”
“You, you- !” A distinctly feminine, uncharacteristically aggravated voice rang out from where an injured blonde currently sat. Seriously, she’d just been in a fight with another heroic spirit, and now she chose to let her little temper show? “Master, quick come to me while Lancer is preoccupied.”
Sora suddenly felt a fear for his life as he realized the girl’s patience was unraveling like a cheap tapestry straight out of a Chinese sweatshop. He found himself reevaluating the wisdom of pointing out the teenage boy’s wet dream of having a girl call him master, and opted for the path that would end without an enraged swordswoman trying to take off his scalp. And then proceeded to ignore said decision in favor of furthering sewing frustration and chaos about this tiny battlefield.
“Hey take it as a compliment, not sexual harassment.”
“Stop your idiotic prattling and DIE!” Lancer roared, leaping forward and jamming his spear downward, only to find his weapon sinking into the rocky soil where his foe had stood not moments ago.”
“Been there, done that, it was boring as hell.” Sora’s voice drifted over from Lancer’s left, who promptly wrenched his weapon form the ground and swung at its source. A single step backwards prevented Sora from losing so much as a single hair on his head. “Well not literally. Hell wasn’t a thing back then.”
Basic tactics 101: when facing an opponent who’s faster stronger, and better armed than you, you do whatever you can to get the upper hand. In the past, Sora would have just spat a Beacon of Sealing from his keyblade through the guy’s chest, locked his heart away, and been done with it. But considering his apparent lack of keyblades at the moment, he had only one option.
Piss off his opponent enough so that he gave into his temper. An angry fighter could be the most dangerous thing of the battlefield, to both his enemies and himself. They could be stronger and more ruthless, sure. But fighting while enraged also made you reckless and careless; that’s what Sora was counting on.
Unbeknownst to him, a certain sword-wielding blonde had begun to take note of the deeper purpose behind his actions.
“Well that was rude!” Sora’s silver blade crashed downward into Lancer’s pole arm, the scraping metal casting a shower of sparks into the night air. His arms trembled and screamed in protest to the force he was applying
“As I was saying before I was SO RUDELY INTERRUPTED,” Sora shouted the last bit, making sure it would reach the blonde’s ears as well as Lancer’s, “If my master’s coming I’m outie. I’m not getting dragged into your creepy underage sex ring.” No way no how. He hadn’t been called to the modern age just to get his ass thrown in jail for getting a little too overexcited about a blonde. He had standards. And morals.
Lancer took an involuntary step back, his face twisting into a scowl of pre disgust. He opened his mouth as if to lash back at Sora’s taunting, but stopped just as the words were about to take form. Instead, he allowed his shoulders to relax and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think you can goad me into carelessly attacking with such crass words?”
Sora tilted his head to the side and dug around in his ear with an extended pinky. “I’m sorry, could you say that again? I think I missed something there, all I head was something about a goat’s ass.”
Lancer’s face blanked, eyes glazed over and seemingly staring through Sora. “I think that taking your life will bring me almost as much pleasure as winning the grail, mortal.”
“What the hell is going on?” Shirou’s voice rang out from a location much close to the house than it had been previously.
“Your loyal servant is trying to shish kebab this guy with his own spear for you,” Sora deadpanned, turning to give the boy a look that practically screamed ‘what the hell does it look like I’m doing?’
“You are not my master’s servant! I am whom he has summoned to fight for the Grail!” The blonde snapped back, a gauntlet-covered hand covering her bloodied shoulder. Sora seriously couldn’t comprehend how she wasn’t understanding who exactly was in charge at the moment. Seriously, of the two of them, which one had been run through with a magical glow stick within the first five minutes? It sure as hell wasn’t him; he’d think that, if anything, would give him some level of authority.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of how wrong you are!”
Speaking of which, Sora also couldn’t understand why she kept going on about who summoned who with a gaping hole in her shoulder. Someone’s priorities were out of whack.
He also took note of the scream of seemingly uncharacteristic rage she let loose. Somehow he had the feeling that he might have to pay for that later, depending on how this whole mess worked out.
“Anyway last I checked I’m the one risking my neck for his sorry teenage butt right now- literally, I might add.” Whirling about he took to the offensive, dashing forward whilst unleashing a rain of blows from every angle possible. Lancer just back stepped and deftly swatted aside each blow, eventually cutting his assault short by swatting away the blade with his spear.
Sora grunted and panted, taking a deep breath and shifting back into a defensive stance. Something was wrong. Even when he was younger he should have been able to keep up an assault like that for a solid ten minutes before needing to catch his breath. That had lasted no longer than thirty seconds, maybe a minute at most.
He felt… wrong. Like he was fourteen again, sparkly new keyblade fresh in hand and facing off against that first Darkside. By the time he had met his end, such battles were barely enough to qualify as a warm-up exercise. He’d fought literal armies of heartless with no pause and struck down the most powerful of beings
So why was he having so much trouble against this freak in the jumpsuit?
Seriously, Xaldin had done more impressive stuff with his spears. Or were they halberds? He never could remember the difference; they both had sharp metal things on the ends of long, pointy sticks, so what was the point in differentiating between them?
I just called them the cocktail skewers of death, Roxas added helpfully. Had he not been fighting for his life and losing, Sora might have been more inclined to chuckle at this other half’s riff. Also, you're a cocksucker.
Sora pointed at Lancer and scowled, dispelling his curiosities. “At least one of those should have cleaved through your face like a hot knife through… well, a pretty boy’s face. The hell are you made of? Quicksand?”
A moment of dead silence. “Oh come on, those are the easiest kind of face to chop into bite-sized pieces. Nice and soft. Butter knives are actually better for the job, but I don’t carry those around with me.”
The silence continued, broken only by the sound of creaking boards from the small staircase leading into the house. “Or was it the quicksand thing? You know, because he’s fast? Quicksand. Quick?” Sora let loose a deep sigh. “Really? Nothing?”
I am so glad you never went through with that ridiculous dream of becoming a comedian.
“A better question would be, ‘how are you so slow?’” Lancer seemingly disappeared into thin air as Sora delivered a heavy swing where he had just been, the momentum causing him to stumble forward and lose his footing.
“I don’t know exactly what you are,” his eyes widened as Lancer’s voice rang out behind him. “But in any case you’re proven you’re at least capable of dodging my blows. Just not this one”
A bark of laughter burst forth from between Sora’s tightly clenched teeth, his mouth already open to deliver yet another witticism as he whirled himself about-
And once more, Sora found himself cut off. Only this time it wasn’t by his foe, or even the blonde-haired beauty. It was from his other half. It wasn't an underhanded compliment, or even a blunt insult accusing him of performing taboo activities with his mother in the wee hours of the night. No, this was a warning,. A panicked, desperate attempt to warn his host of impending danger.
SORA, MOVE! NOW!
And like that, Sora found himself skewered in place. Searing pain erupted in his side as that damned blood-drenched spear carved through muscles and kidney alike, tearing through his back and bursting through his stomach in the blink of an eye.
“This is… bull,” the black-clad warrior grunted out, resisting the urge to cry out as Lancer tore his weapon free of his abdomen in one swift motion. Ruby met sapphire as Lancer locked eyes with his adversary, a single eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth tucked downward as if in disappointment.
“Perhaps you are in truth a heroic spirit.”
“Damn skippy I am!” Sora stumbled forward and help back a pain-riddled gasp. His free hand clamped overtop his latest piercing in a feeble attempt to hold back the crimson liquid seeping from between calloused fingers. In the back of his mind, he found himself wondering why the opposing servant had just now decided to entertain the possibility he was in fact a servant.
Though at the moment, he felt like the world’s shittiest servant.
“Still, even as a heroic spirit, your abilities are… lacking, to say the least.” The spearman coughed out a cold laugh.
“My master will undoubtedly wonder how an eighth servant managed to worm his way into this little skirmish.” Lancer shrugged, stepping forward and closing the gap between the two. “A pity it’s a mystery that you won’t live to answer.”
“If anything she’s the eighth,” Sora scoffed and pointed a shaky finger at the blonde; at least, where the blonde had stood not moments before. He could only assume she’d taken his master inside, away from the conflict at hand. “I’m too badass to be the unplanned birth of the bunch.”
Whatever, it wasn’t a big deal. He could take this idiot on by himself, even with the gaping wound in his gut.
“Unlikely,” Lancer snorted. “You’re slower and weaker than her. I barely had to try and deflect your strikes – your technique is decent enough, but that’s the only remotely exceptional thing about you.”
Sora shrugged, his blade disappearing into a shower of white sparks and his free hand pressed against his newest piercing. “Believe what you want, buddy. I just need a bit to warm up. But in the meantime, let’s try and warm you up a bit too.”
Back in ye olden days, Sora had been known for two things. The first was his looks, because he was god damn gorgeous. Baby blue eyes, perfectly messy and sun-kissed brown hair, and a body the gods would kill for.
His second claim to fame was his martial skill. Tales circulated throughout the universe of his many feats – slicing through entire cities with a single blade, fighting Sephiroth to a draw at the age of sixteen, hell, reducing entire armies to nothing but severed limbs and scattered shadows. His life had been dedicated to the sword, or rather to the Keyblades in his employ.
But he wasn’t just a swordsman. No, he had plenty of tricks that had gotten him through countless close calls. There was the more boring stuff – being able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, reading the innermost nature of one’s heart with a cursory glance, conjuring doors of light whenever he pleased. But in the middle of a fight, what more often than not saved his ass was his magic.
He could shape his mana into protective barriers to repel harm, seal the most grievous of wounds with naught but a wave of his hands, and even bend gravity itself to his will with a single command. Sora’s magic had been all but essential in his various escapades; because no matter what the universe might have thought, he was by no means an agile combatant who could avoid any injury thrown his way.
No, that had been Riku’s claim to fame, darting about the battlefield and tearing apart the soldiers of darkness with lightning-quick blows from his winged keyblade.
Sure, Sora was fast – hell, he was faster than most in his time – but he never came close to that style of combat. When he was faced with a foe he didn’t rely on overwhelming speed or subtle, graceful tactics. No, what he relied on was his sheer tenacity and unlimited supply of brute force.
Sora was a tank. He came in hard, dealing out heavy two-handed blows and absorbing any damage that he could mitigate later with magical potions or straight-up magic. He’d charge his foes again and again and again, and wouldn’t stop until either he or his foe had been knocked down and forced to submit. When his sword wasn’t enough, he’d use his magic to accomplish the same thing.
But there was one magic he could never forget, that was so ingrained into his memory that using it was more instinct that it was effort. His first spell, and oftentimes the last thing his foes ever saw before meeting their ends.
So when Lancer opened his mouth to retort, Sora instinctively dropped to the ground and shoved a fist covered in an orange glow into the ground. The subsequent battle cry echoing from deep within his chest cut off the other servant’s voice completely.
“INCANTATION (IN OTHER LANGUAGE) FOR FIRE!”
Mana flowed from his fingertips like so many rivulets of water, weaving its way through the loamy soil as if they were dozens burrowing worms. They twisted, they turned, they surged forward all in the span of an instant. And when they reached their target, a stream of orange-red flames erupted from the earth that completely enveloped the blue-clad hero in a cocoon of scorching, unbearable heat. In streamed up from the earth like an erupting volcano, the flames twisting and turning in midair whilst swirling around Lancer’s body all the while.
Moments later, Sora’s hand was torn free of his master’s lawn and the pillar of flame had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Beads of sweat stuck to his forehead – not from the exertion, but from the shear heat of the supernatural flames he’d brought into being.
Sora sighed, shaking clumps of dirt from the hand not currently holding his organs in, and staring at the figure standing amidst charred earth and the strands of smoke twirling up into the night sky. Lancer’s arms were crossed in front of his face as if to protect it from the gout of fire… yet the only damage Sora could make out were a few singed strands of hair.
“Okay, that should have turned that pretty boy face of yours into something resembling a burnt pizza.” Sora scowled and shook his free hand, extinguishing the flames that had taken a liking to his glove. “I’m calling bullshit. What, do you have magic resistance rank infinity or something?”
I thought that was the Saber’s thing, Roxas commented, his voice eerily calm. Sora could only assume the blonde had shelved his previous anger to deal with the situation at hand. Which was good – god knows he’d need to help if that didn’t do a thing to the heroic spirit.
“How the hell did you do that?” Lancer barked out, seemingly more annoyed than angry, and definitely more so than injured. “A weak, slow body, and weak magic that lets you make fire and shields. I don’t know of any hero who can do that, fool.”
Sora tutted and wagged a finger. “Don’t question greatness.” He paused, his finger drooping. “Wait, you’re being serious about the ‘weak and slow’ part, aren’t you?”
Incidentally he found himself struggling to keep a neutral face, so that his foe didn’t realize just how hurt he was. Both emotionally and physically. Mostly the latter though.
“The only great thing about you I’ve seen so far is your mouth!” Lancer started forward, dragging the tip of his weapon along the ground and carving a shallow trench amongst the emerald blades of grass.
“Then why am I still alive? If I’m as weak as you say, you must be really bad at stabbing thing with that glorified toothpick of yours. You missed all my vital organs!” Sora barked out a boastful laugh, resisting the urge to throw his hands on his hips and puff out his chest to emphasize his sheer manliness.
Uhhh yeah, about that, Roxas began, his hesitant tone catching his host’s attention.
Sora winced as an involuntary cough racked his body, with it a small trickle of blood seeping out from the corner of his mouth. “Well almost all of them. Dammit, that was the part of my liver I use to drink with.” Another cough, and a half-assed curse muttered under his breath. “That was my good kidney too.” LANCER TRIES TO FINISH SORA SABER POPS UP AND SAVES HIS SORRY ASS MORE DIALOGUE LANCER RUNS AWAY LIKE A LIL BITCH
“Well, that was anticlimactic. You know, excluding the part where you got shanked. But overall, I’d give it a six out of ten.” -->Sora
More like four out of ten. You couldn’t even go five minutes without losing your lunch. Literally.
‘I’ve been here for like ten minutes tops, I haven’t had time to eat anything. It’s not like that filet I had followed me through time and space and wedged itself in my lower intestinal track when we arrived here.’ -->Sora
You don’t know that for a fact. Sora suddenly found himself tempted to stick a finger in his gut and start wiggling it around. Sure, it would hurt him like hell, but it would hurt the nobody just as much. Plus, the bastard wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
Then again, the idea of fingering his intestines was far less than appealing.
“I thank you for helping to defend my master while I’m in this weakened state, stranger.” -->Saber
“Are you two okay? I have bandages in the house, let me go get something.”-->Shirou
“As much as I’m sure she appreciates you ripping off your shirt, I think we’ll manage.”-->Sora
“It’s true, master, this injury is insignificant at best. However, it will dampen my ability to combat potential foes effectively. It would beneficial if you were to resolve this injury now before addressing the matter at hand.”-->Saber
“Huh? Oh… I’m sorry, that kind of magic is way beyond my level. I’m still just a beginner.”-->Shirou
“Well it shouldn’t be that big a deal. You’re the big bad saber, or so you claim. You should be able to patch that up no problem, right?”-->Sora
“I am incapable of magic. My status as a servant does grant me enhanced healing properties, but they still require valuable time that I cannot afford to waste.”-->Saber
“I do know what a servant is, you don’t have to quote the beginner’s manual at me.”-->Sora
“”There’s a manual?”-->Saber
“Well I still have no idea what a servant is. Or what any of this is about!”-->Shirou
“Calm down pony boy, just give me a minute, I just want to make sure I don’t spring another leak from my stomach.”-->Sora
SORA CLOSES UP HIS TUMMY HOLE WITH THE MAGICKS
“That was… amazing! How did you do that?”-->Shirou
“It’s really not a big deal. Take a little magic, shove it into the hole, and watch the wound go bye-bye.”-->Sora
“My master is right. I’ve never seen a healing magic that works so quickly on such a serious injury.”-->Saber
“Oh, I’ve had worse. And I didn’t fix it all the way, I just patched it up enough so that my stomach doesn’t spout a leak all over the kid’s nice clean floors. Wait, you floors are clean, right?”-->Sora
“Good, I hate living in filth.”-->Sora
(Saber goes all ‘owie my new piercing hurts like hell)
“Oh hell, my bad, let me see what I can do.”-->Sora
“Is something wrong?”-->Shirou
“Could you do me a favor and stop hogging all your mana, kid? Kind of hard to regrow tissue when I’m not getting anything to work with.”-->Sora
“But I’m not using any of my mana.”-->Shirou
“Oh come on, don’t give me that. I’m not getting a single drop here.”-->Sora
“Honestly, I’m not. I wouldn’t even know how to give it to you in the first place.”-->Shirou
“Uhhh. Is he being serious?” -->Sora
“I believe my master is not taking this situation lightly.”-->saber
“That’s just…. No, that’s not how this works. I should be able to get something out of you. No homo. kid, you sure you’re a magus?”-->Sora
“I… yes, my father taught me how to use magic.”-->Shirou
“You sure? Last I checked you need mana to summon a servant. And if neither of us are getting anything that leaves two realistic options.”-->Sora
“What might those be?”-->Saber
“Option one is that you royally screwed up your summoning. Like unbelievably, impossibly screwed it up. More so than I thought humanly possible.”-->Sora
“Well the only other option is that she and I were meant to be, and the fates intervened to ensure our meeting.”-->Sora
“I find that highly unlikely.”-->Saber
“You’re right, I’m way prettier. I could do better.”-->Sora
“If it weren’t for your assistance with Lancer, I would not endure such consistent sleights against my character. Choose your next words carefully.”-->Saber
“It’s called a joke. People sometimes make them when attempting to amuse others or diffuse high-stress situations.”-->Sora
“In what world would those comments reduce tensions?”-->Saber
“Isn’t that a city somewhere? Like in the Middle East?”-->Shirou
“City, world, they honestly weren’t that different way back when. Most worlds were just one major city surrounded by lots of sand or water. Well, I guess in Atlantis the city was part of the water. Same concept, I guess.”-->Sora
You’re prattling again.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it Master, that’s way before your time.”-->Sora
“Who are you to speak to me as if I were some… some child!”-->Saber
“That’s my name. Sora. You asked for my name, so I gave it.”-->Sora
“I’ve yet to hear tale of a hero by that name.”-->Saber
“Believe me, I’d might be inclined to do a little dance out of joy.”-->Sora
“Somehow, I highly doubt that. You seem far from the type to keep to your word.”-->Saber
“Woah, pardon me? I thought we were starting to get along here. What’s with the sudden hostility?”-->Sora
“Your attempt to heal me does nothing to disregard the fact that you appeared unbidden when my master called out to me, and then demonstrated a level of skill capable of enduring a heroic spirit’s assault. Both of those facts are nothing short of disconcerting.”-->Saber
“Remember that time I was helping you both out? It was literally less than five minutes ago. Do you regularly act hostile towards people who perform good deeds?”-->Sora
“I don’t know Saber, he seemed like he was really trying to help.”-->Shirou
“Yeah, what the kid said. He’s got good taste in men. Wait that came out wrong, let me try again.”-->Sora
“Master, with all due respect you have yet to understand the significance of the struggle you’ve become a part of. I feel it is best that you defer to my judgment for the time being.”-->Saber
“I really do think he wanted to help. Why else would he try to protect you from that guy’s spear?”-->Shirou
“Spoiler alert – it wasn’t just because I have a thing about saving damsels in distress.”-->Sora
That’s a goddamn lie if I’ve ever hear done before, Roxas chuckled. Most the girls you knew needed rescuing from someone or something at first, and half of them needed the help the minute you met them.
‘Oh come on, that’s not true. The girls I knew were badass!’
Let’s see. There was Kairi, of course. Though she got better later on when she figured out how to use that keyblade of hers like an actual weapon, instead of a glorified baseball bat.
‘Oh please, she could have kicked my ass after those first few months of training. You just talk her down because you were sweet on her blonde-haired alter-ego.’
Roxas growled, and his presence darkened for a moment or two. Other than her, off the top of my head we’ve got… Alice, Belle, Aqua, Jasmine the Arabian beauty, my sweet, lovely Namine, the good kind of fishy-lady Ariel, any of the Princesses of Heart I forgot to mention, that Elizabeth chick, Meg, Jane the hot researcher turned jungle lady, Esmerelda … and hell, that was almost every girl you met in those first two years.
‘That’s bull, what about Yuffie? Aerith? Hell, Mulan was a badass incarnate!’ Sora snapped back. Seriously, some of the best fighters he knew were girls! And even the ones he’d resuced at first turned into terrifying forces of nature later on, especially when the war kicked into high gear.
Let it be known, there were few things Sora feared more than a pissed-off Princess of Heart.
Give me a few hours and I can get to all the rest. Roxas went on as if he hadn’t even heard his host’s objection. I didn’t even get to the place’s we visited after we locked up Kingdom Hearts. Sora suddenly found himself with a perfectly clear image of Roxas leaning over and wiggling his eyebrows at him. Remember that Vanille girl?
‘Okay fine, you’ve made your point.’ Sora rolled his eyes at the smugness radiating from Roxas’s presence, which illuminated his mind like a miniature sun. A sun that Sora wished he could punch oh-so badly without giving himself a black eye and a wicked headache.
TRANSITION BACK TO THE CONVERSATION
“Other than Lancer, I do not know who the heroic spirits involved in this battle are. The leaves five types of servants currently unaccounted for… which means five different enemies you could actually be. For all I know you could be Caster, or maybe even Assassin, attempting to secure our trust only to break it at a later date.”--> Saber
“What, Assassin? Why would you…. It’s the coat, isn’t it? I knew black was a bad choice.” -->Sora
“But he helped you, didn’t he. He made that shield-thing to try and block that spear.” --> Shirou
“And he let the shield fall so that I was injured.” --> Saber
“Hey, I wasn’t seeing you do much to stop it. You just let me do all the hard work while you sat back and enjoyed the light show. And you got a sweet piercing out of the deal. What did I get? A bunch of insults, and my dinner forcibly removed from my lower intestine.”-->Sora
“Even now he speaks in circles instead of stating his purpose in plain terms. No self-respecting heroic spirit would choose to engage in such frivolities at a time like this.”-->Saber
“Maybe I have a distinct lack of self-respect. I never did like authority very much.”-->Sora
STUFF GOES HERE
“It isn’t possible for a master to summon two servants simultaneously. It contradicts every rule set forth by the Holy Grail itself!”-->Saber
“So what, I’m a liar liar pants on fire?”-->Sora
“No, you seem more the type who hides his true intentions behind false words and extravagant mannerisms.”-->Saber
“I can’t help it if I was born funny. Just like you can’t help the fact you were born with a stick up your ass. Actually wait, you'd probably be more fun if that was the case.”-->Sora
“That isn’t helping things! No one else is going to try and kill each other here tonight. Stop it already.” -->Shirou
“Who said I was trying to help things? If I piss her off enough I’m sure she’ll let slip what she’s really doing here.”-->Sora
“Are you forgetting that she saved me from that guy too? She was out there first!”-->Shirou
“You don’t even know what’s happening here little boy, just let mommy and daddy scream it out.”-->Sora
“You would be wise to watch your tone when addressing my master, lest you wish our blades to do the talking.”-->Saber
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that the ‘Saber’ who got her ass handed to her had the right to pass judgment on me.”-->Sora
“That was an unavoidable strike! The finishing blow from Lancer’s noble phantasm! And I was far from defeated. I would have gladly continued fighting had my Master’s safety not been compromised.”-->Saber
“All I hear is ‘blah blah blah, excuses excuses excuses.’”-->Sora
“I shall ask you one last time. Who is your master? How did you come to be here”-->Saber
“For the billionth time it’s… wait, kid, what’s your name?”-->Sora
“It’s Shirou. Emiya Shirou.”-->Shirou
“Right right. No way I’m going to remember that without practice. Japanese names are the worst. But yeah, he’s my master."-->Sora
“Shirou is my master. There is no question about that. And as a master can only summon one servant at a time, the only question is who you are really, and what you intend to do with him?”-->Saber
“That’s enough you two. You can work this out after you’ve told me what exactly is going on here.”-->Shirou
“It feels like we’re going in circles. Mostly because you’re too stupid or thickheaded, maybe even both, to get who’s the real servant here. That’s me, in case that wasn’t obvious.”-->Sora
“I won’t suffer your insolence any longer. Speak plainly.”-->Saber
“I say you’d best back down and stop trying to steal my thunder. I’m his servant. You’re just some second-rate hack, a mistake dredged up from across dimensions and shoved into a magical skin suit." -->Sora
“You truly think so? Here you are, barely able to give Lancer a fight worthy of a warm-up sparring match, and you have the gall to question my authenticity as a heroic spirit?” -->Saber
“I’ll question whatever I want! I’m the king, goddammit!”-->Sora
“I can’t possibly believe someone as brazenly shameless as you could have possibly been a king!”-->Saber
SITUATION ESCALATES SORA LUNGES AT SABER BC SHE HURTS HIS SENSITIVE MALE PRIDE ABOUT BEING BADASS
SHIROU USES COMMAND SEAL ON SORA SORA STARTS TO GLOAT ABOUT SHIROU HAVING HIS COMMAND SEALS SABER DETECTS RIN & ARCHER
“Oh boy, company! I hope they brought breadsticks. I haven’t had good breadsticks in years.” -->Sora
“Master, please stay here. I’ll take care of this new threat and return to you post-haste to resolve this dilemma.” -->Saber
SABER PULLS A HOUDINI AND RUNS TO THE STREET
“Wait, how did you sense people coming? Can you use the force or something?" Sora shouted after the girl, only to realize she was already long gone. "Wait, don’t tell me!” Sora called out in afterthought. With a sigh he seemingly vanished from view, reappearing next to Shirou with an arm draped around the startled boy’s shoulders, “Okay master, quiz time. Does one of her skills involve using the force? Please say yes.”
Shirou just stared at Sora, eyes wide and flabbergasted. The man groaned, kneading the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefingers.
“The force? Oh come on, I know you people have… what did we decide to name it…” Sora snapped his fingers in triumph, “That’s right! Star Wars! You know, spaceships, laser swords, vaguely defined super powers, and countless subpar video games.”
“Of course I’ve heard of Star Wars,” Shirou growled, glancing uncomfortably at the gloved hand perched atop his shoulder. “I meant what do you mean by one of her skills?”
“Well a skill is generally defined as the ability to perform a task, often with a certain level of expertise or minimal competence.” Sora deadpanned, rapping his knuckles against his young charge’s head a few times to drive the point home. Shirou scowled and pushed his arm away, taking a step back form the black-clothed newcomer.
“How am I supposed to know what she’s good at?”
The elder of the two grunted as a hint of exasperation seeped into his tone. “You can use magic since you summoned me.” He threw a thoughtful glace to where the blonde had stood not moments before. “And maybe her too, I’m still not convinced about that.”
Sora shook his head, “Anyway, you Masters are supposed to be able to figure out what Servants are like just by looking at them, or so I’m told. Just shove some magic into your eyes and see what happens, I guess.” Sora shrugged halfheartedly; he wasn’t abundantly familiar with modern magical practices. There were so many different way practitioners could conjure and manipulate mana, he’d stopped paying attention years ago. Most of them used elaborate runes and incantations; as far as Sora was aware, he was the only one left who followed the ‘spit out magic and blow stuff up’ approach in its purest, simplest form.
Granted, if that were the case, jamming mana into his eyes would end with Shirou sporting two new bloody holes in his head. Hopefully he wouldn’t actually try that.
“I didn’t do anything,” Shirou spoke up, his lips turned downward into some sort of frustrated frown. “One second that Lancer guy was about to stab me in the chest all over again, and the next the three of you were tearing up half the neighborhood.”
“Don’t be such a drama queen, it’s just a couple patches of crabgrass.” Sora followed the redhead’s meaningful gaze towards a large, Lancer-shaped hole emblazoned in the back of his home. “Okay, there’s that too. Point to you.”
SHIROU ADMITS HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO DO THE THING
“What do you mean you don’t know how? I could even do that when I was your age! And the only things I knew how to do involved turning big monsters in smears on the wall! Do you know how much finesse that required? Literally none! And I still figured out how to do it!”
SHIROU GOES ALL 'WAH WAH I DIDN'T GET MUCH TEACHING'
“Hell, if she is your servant as she claims it should be all the easier. Just reach out to her through the connection formed by your contract and wiggle around inside of her to get a feel for things." Sora froze, his face twisting into an expression bordering on horror. "Holy crap, what did I just say. I don’t say stuff like that.”
Well apparently you do now. Actually, you’ve been a little snarky ever since you popped up here. Did the trip over make you grouchy or something?
SHIROU GOES AFTER SABER AFTER HEARING STUFF
“Okay fine, interrupt me in the middle of my rant, I’m not bitter.”
SORA TALKS TO ROXAS ABOUT HOW FUCKED HE IS REALIZES HE LEFT HIS MASTER RUN OFF BY HIMSELF AND CHASES AFTER SHIROU USES SABER’S COMMAND SEAL TO STOP HER FROM GOING APE ON THEM SHIROU / RIN INTERACTION
“Oh. Well… gee, this is awkward now. Is it awkward? Because it feels really awkward.”