After being summoned, Saber was fairly annoyed at being brought into a ridiculous excuse for a Holy Grail War, one that involved taking up the role of a high-school student. But, if it meant obtaining the holy relic that she so desired, than so be it; she will participate and follow these absurd rules.
Now, two months later, Saber, who's wearing the school's uniform, was casually sitting down on a table with a few other unnamed Saber class servants. Taking out a sandwich which she obtained from the lunch cart, she prepared to take a bite out of it, only to hear the speakers come on and the OVERLORD's announcement.
Almost instantly, her fellow Saber servants leaped from the table, and engaged in battle with one another, their swords making loud ringing noises through the lunchroom. Looking around, she noticed other unnamed servants engaged in battle.
A serious expression emerged from her face as she was prepared to change into her armor, but she suddenly stopped, realizing that she hadn't taken a single bite of her newly obtained food yet.
"Hm... Well, a knight shouldn't be wasteful of nutrition, especially after just purchasing it... I suppose it would be a bad idea not to finish up before engaging my enemies."
Sitting back down, she quietly began to munch on her sandwich, ignoring the combating servants around her, who were also thankfully ignoring her for the most part. As Saber continued to eat, a thought, that had been bothering ever since she was summoned into this High-school based Holy Grail War, came back into her mind.
...Who's idea was it to have something that was so... degrading as a means for normal clothing... thought the blonde girl as she adjusted her unusually short skirt that was above her knees.
"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm playing a role, sir, what are you doing?"At one end of the cafeteria, a teacher stood watching the fray. He was an elderly man, with a scraggly beard and drooping features. He slouched in the corner of the room like someone who had seen enough violence that the bloodbath in front of him seemed like just another ordinary happening. His eyes, however, belied that world weariness with startling intensity and focus.
An injured caster class servant limped towards him. "Please," she begged, "I need energy! Just a little to heal up, that's all!"
The teacher's piercing eyes turned to the caster, who stopped dead in her tracks for a moment. He looked her up and down, then said, "Normally, we're supposed to distribute prana equally... but for you, I might be able to bend the rule a bit." He ducked momentarily while a throwing knife embedded itself in the wall above his head, then plucked it out, pocketed it, and continued. "Why don't we find somewhere a bit less chaotic?"
The caster readily agreed. She was a bit disturbed by this teacher's unflappable demeanor, but thought she could trust him despite it. They made their way out of the cafeteria, the old man shielding the woman from incoming projectiles and stray strikes. They walked for a bit, with the teacher's arm around the woman to support her, before finding an empty classroom and ducking inside.
The teacher spoke again, softly. "Well, I suppose there's no point wasting more time. Please remove your armor." The caster complied without hesitation. She had been with many men in her life, one more was nothing to pay special attention to.
The teacher stood in the corner of the room and began to remove his jacket, before he realized he was being stared at. He turned to the caster and grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but would you mind allowing an old man his modesty?" She kept her eyes fixed on him. "Please," he added, showing visible discomfort. Eventually, the caster complied and closed her eyes. "Thank you," said the teacher. "Thank you very much."
Suddenly, Caster felt a sharp pain between her ribs. Her eyes shot open and darted to her chest. There was a knife sticking out of it - the same one that had almost hit the teacher. She looked up to see the old man - no, not an old man. Not any more. The teacher's jacket was gone, and where once had stood a world weary official was now a powerfully built, confident warrior. The edge that had earlier been limited to his eyes now permeated his entire being. His beard now looked well trimmed and dark, and his hair seemed straighter and more dignified. As the caster collapsed dead on the ground, his clothes too began to shift. He donned a golden breastplate and perfectly fitting armored leather pants. Finally, an enormous bow appeared in his left hand and a full quiver materialized on his back.
Archer looked again at the fresh corpse. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I don't think you were quite my type." He stared for a moment, then left the room as she began to fade. "Not quite my type," he muttered to himself as he jogged back towards the cafeteria. "What kind of a quip is that?"
edited 20th Nov '11 11:21:26 PM by KyleJacobs
A girl looking much like the Saber munching on the sandwich walks forward, sitting down nearby. "Such idiocy." the girl sighs, laying out the food before her. She didn't pay any attention to the idiots dueling it out in the room, she was only focused on her own food. What was on the plate in front of her was a dish decorated in vegetables and salad, something she deemed 'beautiful'. "Now it's time to eat." the girl known as Saber digs in with a fork.
Before piercing a lone tomato, she finally pays attention to the other girl near her. "Oh my, aren't you a beautiful sight!" the green eyed girl says with a smile. Her look full of admiration. That was probably because the girl before her LOOKED EXACTLY the same save for breast size and stature. Certainly strange but they were ancestors, apparently.
"Oh,it's nice to meet you, fellow Saber!" the girl says as she shoves the tomato in her mouth with the fork.
Truth was Saber didn't really need the Holy Grail. After the incident with her former Master, she feels detached. She's honestly lost without them but she makes due.
edited 21st Nov '11 8:35:50 AM by RagnaTheSaviour
"A-zuh."
Diarmuid blankly stared across the table, meatball sub still halfway in his mouth. Then he bit into it, desperately ignoring the other Lancer and his very piercing gaze. His very threatening... hostile...
The next thing the Fianna knew, his leg lashed against the table, flipping it into the other Servant's face. He swiftly kicked away from it, narrowly avoiding the lance piercing through the plastic-wood thing, ducking under the second thrust.
Diarmuid raised his own weapon - which squelched unpleasantly in his hand.
Oh. The sandwich. He forgot about that. As the other Lancer hurled the table away, Diarmuid hurled what remained of the sub straight into his foe's face. Almost comically, he stumbled, slipped on a smattering of spaghetti, and fell.
Diarmuid hesitated for a brief moment, but then fled. There was no need to fight then and there. It was a chaotic brawl. The circumstances did not favor him at all. Better to fight face to face, with proper rules, rather than this debacle.
In the meantime, he would not present himself as a threat.
Saber turned to the other Saber, who's look emitted admiration... and saw that she looked exactly like her, minus the differences in breast size and statures. Saber stopped eating her sandwich, and examined the other Saber with great curiosity.
Finally coming to a conclusion, she spoke, "That is a petty imitation you have conjured up, Saber. The upper body is far too ample," she said as she indicated the other Saber's breasts, "and your personality is far too off to ever be one of a knight's."
Finishing up her sandwich, Saber turned back towards the other Saber, whom she was fairly confident was an impostor. "Though, I shall show you equal respect for addressing me with such kind compliments, and tell you that you too look rather charming. Now, if you'd be oh so kind as to tell me you're true class, I'd be more accepting of your company." As Saber finished speaking, she took out some canned coffee, opened it up, and began to take elegant sips from it.
"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm playing a role, sir, what are you doing?""My true class? Are you implying that I DON'T have the majesty of a Saber?" Nero turned her eyes into slits, eying the other. "I am a Saber, through and through! How dare you think of me other wise!" and the accusation of being a lowly Assassin was a bit low, or at least that's what she thought she was implying.
"I'll say it again, cretin, I AM A SABER... I'll forgive this single folly but be warned, refer to me as otherwise and you'll receive a swift gale of punishment. Are we clear?" the girl with the red-ribbon takes another bite of the salad.
The two certainly looked a like and that was going to cause some conflict. As if now wasn't proof enough of that.
edited 22nd Nov '11 11:38:12 AM by RagnaTheSaviour
Delicate pink lips like cherry blossom petals parted briefly as their owner took a deep breath, just as he brought the mouth of a small black horn into his own. His face, like that of an innocent sleeping princess of fairy tales, became flushed as the French knight blew with all his strength on his magical horn... eyes closed by the effort as the sound of it resonated through the whole dinning room... especially on the table designated for Riders.
For a moment, silence reigned if not on the whole dinning room at the very least on the table on which the pink haired knight sat. Though not for long... as Astolfo, Paladin of Charlemagne, after setting aside his enchanted horn, rose to his feet with an elegance rivaling that of the finest ladies of Europe. Opening his bewitching peach colored eyes, Astolfo decisively put one of his pure white boots on his seat and then his next delicate step brought him to stand upon the table with a fabulous spin.
"My friends! My fellow Riders of noble horses, wondrous chariots, lovely sheep, enchanting bulls and all other assortment of marvelous creatures you are all deeply familiar with!" Astolfo said, starting a speech which came from the depths of his tender heart. His voice, although soft carried over and enveloped all who heard him "Why do you all fight at the whims of a voice coming from a black box? All of us are irreplaceable companions bound by fate and the time we have spent in this new and beautiful world!"
At this point Astolfo spun around to face the other half of his audience and with a daring hip movement he let most of his weight rest on his right leg... his right hand resting comfortably on his hip while he pointed with his delicate index finger at no one hero in particular. His complexion, like that of a princess, turned now into disappointment as he started a reprimand which would surely tug at the heart of any man "All of you who have lifted your weapons at the wicked call of this 'Overlord' should feel ashamed!"
The Pink Paladin then closed his fist and looked slightly upwards as he continued "Us heroes and companions should fight not at the whims of a hidden voice but because of our own foolish hearts! For grand causes and stupid misunderstandings! Like stealing each other's underwear, drawing on our faces as we sleep, mixing the salt and the sugar, finding other Rider's incredibly intense fondness for their mount slightly unnerving... That is the true reason Riders should fight and spill each others blood on these tables filled with food of uncertain origin!"
Rider then dropped to his knees and lifted a plate which contained meat of a most curious blue and brown color. The Paladin gave it a cute mistrustful look as he brought it closer to his sight and mumbled through a pout "I mean, really, look at this stuff... I'm not certain what kind of beast supplied the meat for this thing. I think I have seen it move on the edge of my sight, its blueness mocking me... Might it be something from beyond Gaia!? Something not touched by the light of our Lord!? It must be! This meat must come from Mars! Venus! Maybe even Uranus! Certainly from Uranus!" declared the little Paladin, going off on a strange tangent as he often did. By this point most heroes had resumed their fight, leaving only a few heroes caught listening to the maddening words of the most incomprehensible of Charlemagne's Paladins.
And so, the chaos resumed, and from the table of Riders came the sound of steel meeting steel, the cries of the beasts they mounted and the continued blabber of Astolfo, sounding not unlike the incessant yapping of a cute breed of diminutive dog.
edited 22nd Nov '11 2:42:23 PM by daltar
Archer reentered the cafeteria to see that the number of surviving servants had been reduced by a considerable amount. "Good," he thought. "That's less people I have to deal with." He noticed two very attractive women arguing, and thought about what his best course of action would be. After a few seconds, he made his decision. "Sorry, honey," he thought, "but I'm afraid pragmatism beats loyalty once again." His own desires were also certainly fueling his decision, but he'd never admit that to himself. He focused for a moment, then put on a big, goofy grin and walked confidently through the carnage towards the two Sabers. "Now, now, ladies," he said loudly as soon as he reached them, "there's no need to argue over this. I really don't see a limit on the number of members of any class, and I don't really think there's any sort of limit on what kind of person can be chosen for one."
As if to prove his point, another archer fired at him from across the room. Archer dodged the shot and fired back, his own arrow embedding itself in the throat of his assailant. All the while, he never dropped his smile. "For example, there's nothing saying Archers have to be cold, cunning planners and can't enjoy themselves a bit, is there?"
The Paladin did not go completely unnoticed, as juicy a target as he was, standing on a table, oblivious to the danger, so interested in his lunch. An Archer trained an arrow upon Rider's head, aiming, aiming... firing. It whizzed over its intended target as Astolfo found himself being brought down by a Lancer.
"Down, Rider, down," Diarmuid growled. The gravity of his words, however, were instantly killed by the beauty of his birthmark working its magic. As it did all the time.
Again.
"Ugh!"
Rider was brought down to the floor, the plate of bluish meat that he held in his hands sailing through the sky to end up in the head of the impertinent Archer that would dare to attack such pure an existence as he.
As Astolpho opened one eye and softly rubbed his aching head he began to say his thanks... but for once in the little Paladin's life his words caught up in his throat.
For in front of him lay one of the most beautiful sights that he had ever lain eyes on. Almost as lovely as his own image in a lake or a mirror, but in a more traditional and maybe rough way. Nevertheless the sight stirred the Pink Paladin's heart, causing a blush the color of his eyes to creep all over his face.
A subtle smile on his lips, through half lidded eyes did Astolpho look as his savior on top of him "Why, my thanks you most courageous hero... You rushing through the crowds to save me from a treacherous attack... My, how heroic and brave a deed this which you performed"
Take in mind that as he uttered these words the Paladin with the face of a princess was running his index finger through the side of Diarmuid's face, poking softly at his birthmark and then letting his finger rest under his chin. All the while the looking like the very image of a lovestruck puppy "Please, I must know your name~ For this boon is something I wish more than all the breaths that remain for me in life!"
edited 22nd Nov '11 4:54:50 PM by daltar
Ignoring Astolfo's rather... dramatic and surprisingly cute speech, Saber returned to drinking her canned coffee.
"I am indeed implying that you do not have the majesty of a Saber, you're acts are that of a spoiled child who has been denied the ability to play with a toy... and I find it quite ironic, for if there will be a gale of punishment, it will be from my blade..." spoke the elegant blonde girl with closed eyes as she pulled her canned coffee from her lips.
Giving off a sigh, she turned towards the other Saber, and opened them. "I also do not like the idea of an impostor wearing my face... however, if you so wish to copy my appearance, at least do it properly, and do it with dignity," she said as she indicated the other Saber's chest again.
"Though, I do believe we will be forced to put up with one another... and so, I will accept thee as a fellow Saber, even if thou are not a Saber for some reason, and I will respect thy wishes," said Saber with genuine honesty. There was not one trace of malice, or ill-intent, instead, her words were full of purity.
And then, Archer appeared. Her face quickly switched from one of amusement and slight interest, to one of distrust. After witnessing his little stunt with another Archer, her instincts were holding true.
"Archer, I promise you that I will end your life if you attempt to do anything that would be degrading to a knight's honor..." spoke Saber coldly. For some reason, she didn't like this hero... something about him bothered her more than the Saber servant beside her, who still looked exactly like her.
"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm playing a role, sir, what are you doing?""Who are you using as a comparison for a Saber? Yourself? The only thing you have going for you are your looks, my dear." Nero continued with the talk, intending to get it across that SHE was a Saber. "You still seem to think I'm some sort of imposter? Do you need my name to prove otherwise?" the Empress of Rome huffed, putting another leaf of salad into her mouth.
She chewed and then turned toward Lancer. The mole didn't affect her, even with her low-magical resistance. "Lancer, how quint." the blonde sighed, taking another bite of the salad. "And... your blade would be no match for mine, fellow Saber. You would be on the ground, begging for mercy. Ahahaha..."
Nero had an incredibly powerful Noble Phantasm, almost god-like. Anything she willed could happen, however the only thing that hindered this were her migraines.
"Do you accept the challenge of a friendly duel?" of course, she was being sarcastic. "After we've finished eating, of course." the girl finished talking, smiling as she proceeded with her meal.
edited 22nd Nov '11 8:15:10 PM by RagnaTheSaviour
Archer took an exaggerated bow and said in the most mockingly grandiose voice he could, "My lady, you have it on my honor that I would never even dream of treating you in any manner other than what befits a fellow warrior. I was simply offering my thoughts on what I found to be an intriguing conversation. I wouldn't dare treat any of my fellow heroic spirits, much less a Saber as anything less than a worthy and capable fighter that is entirely deserving of my respect."
At this point, he stood up and spoke normally. "But in all seriousness," he said, "I'm really not thinking along those lines at all. I've had enough many women try to manipulate me through my... natural urges as a man that I ended up swearing off that kind of thing entirely." Outside of his wife, of course, but she didn't need to know that.
It might have been the sunlight. It might have been a well-timed surge of fire. But it certainly seemed that Diarmuid's face, for a brief moment, sparkled - not obnoxiously like a certain clan of Apostles, but with its own subtle charm. Whatever the source, sparkles were sparkles. Inappropriately timed sparkles, all the more.
Diarmuid knew the look before he saw it. The same lovestruck expression endemic in everybody he came across... and now this young girl (Because, with that face, what else could she be!?). The birthmark struck again, in all its ridiculous glory. True to fashion, Rider did just what Lancer expected (again with the mark). He stoically bore it without the faintest hint of discomfort.
He was a knight of the Fianna, and it was still his prerogative to compose himself as such. Show no discomfort. Still... between leaping into the fray and... this, there was no contest.
"Why, my thanks you most courageous hero... You rushing through the crowds to save me from a treacherous attack... My, how heroic and brave a deed this which you performed." Well. He happened to be there, but Lancer would not argue with that. "Please, I must know your name~ For this boon is something I wish more than all the breaths that remain for me in life!" The Rider exclaimed.
It was then that Lancer realized that he was still crouched over Rider.
Awkward.
Immediately, Diarmuid rolled off of the pink-haired Rider, coughing. "I am Lancer." A pause. In this war, his own identity was one of his greatest weapons. Yet, this practice irritated him; the point of a duel was to openly declare your strength before everyone, not to hide behind shrouds and daggers. Where was the beauty in that?
His Master was going to have a fit. Or, he would had he had a Master. "...Better known as Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, son of Donn, warrior of the Fianna," Diarmuid completed the sentence.
...
Sparkles~!
Astolpho was a little disappointed that his dashing hero Diarmuid (Diarmuid...such a noble and poetic name that was~) decided to be modest and roll off from him. The lovestruck Paladin immediately sat up, his slender legs up to his knees closed and pointing right in front of him and from the knee down sticking out to the sides, his armored hands resting on his lap as he leaned closer to his savior "Ah Diarmuid... it's a great pleasure to know you... This encounter, this brave rescue of yours to this humble Pink Paladin... this must be nothing short of fate, don't you think?"
The small knight then took Diarmuid's hands in his own, a pleading look on his innocent face, pink eyes brimming with the affection that now burned within his tender heart as he begged the Irish knight "Please, let me plead myself to your service, give vows to serve your house, let me accompany you forever and ever more!"
The odd medley of flirting, twin rivalry, same-sex romance, and general mayhem was brought to an end by the tone of the bell, informing all participants that fighting-time was over and that class would be starting.
A few servants remained who were too engrossed in chivalric combat to notice the bell. In the midst of their fight, they were engulfed in a mysterious pink cloud of gas. When the fog cleared up , they were nowhere to be seen (The mystery gas smelt of bananas).
The bodies of everyone who had fallen also disappeared in a poof of gas one by one. As conversation broke out amoung the servants, the teachers were forced to crowd everyone back to their classrooms. One berserker who decided he didn't like being pushed around struck down a teacher and was immediately poofed away as well (as was the teacher).
Time passes
"That'll be all for classes today. I hope to see the majority of you tomorrow."
Finally, as the last class of the day finished, the teacher strode out to the hallway. Immediately, an unfortunate Lancer was seen flying through the hallway, forcing the teacher to dodge both the projectile and the Berserker following it. Class 3-B was left to the students as well: To kill each other or to socialize.
Nero did her best in the classes that she could. And by her best, she means perfect. The girl was incredibly gifted in the arts, and by arts she meant everything. Everything she did was top notch. Her love was top notch as well! "Now my fellow Sabers... I must bid you adieu!" she said as she stood up, getting ready to leave. She sighed and then turned toward her blue-ribboned lookalike.
"Excuse me." she walked forward, giving her a smile.
"Would you like to accompany me to the dorms?"
After the teacher had exited the room, Saber stood up, and stretched a bit. She began packing her things into her bag, and just as she was about to leave, her red-ribboned double approached her.
She still believed that the Saber before her was an impostor, but she shrugged those thoughts off as she heard her question.
"Hm... The company would be quite nice, so yes. Shall we go now, before more chaos ensues?" said Saber as she hinted at the previous Berserker that most likely had flunged the Lancer down the hallway.
edited 24th Nov '11 7:41:24 PM by Wolffang
"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm playing a role, sir, what are you doing?""We shall!" the red-ribboned blonde nodded and then began her trek out of the classroom. She had all of her belongings with her so she didn't worry about losing anything. "Even if this chaos ensues, I believe my majesty and your blade can crush the opposition." she said with a smile. She thought highly of herself as a Saber. The girl had high expectations for her doppelganger as well.
"Rest assured, fellow Saber, I have no intention of offing you at any turn. If we do fight, it shall be the last one this academy sees!" with a loud bellow, she announced the fight to the world.
"What do you say about that, Saber?" she turned toward her friend and smiled.
A man with short black hair didn't seem to notice that the lesson was finished already. Having been completely swallowed by wondrous contains of the book he was reading, Caster looked around, apparently confused. What? Over already?, he thought, slowly standing up and closing the book. He finished the last task given to him by teacher about twenty minutes ago so he had nothing else to do other than continue a book he obtained from fellow Caster. The book was calledNecronomicon and was absolutely fascinating. Caster thought that maybe he can use some of the concepts presented here in one of his new texts.
He wasn't really sure what to do in this so called school. At first, he thought that if he could obtain Holy Grail, he'd be able to revive his love, Beatrice but then, he realized two things. Primo, she was already in Paradise, place so perfect that it would be a crime and blasphemy to summon her down here. Secundo, he was far from good when it was coming down to usage of magic. He couldn't even create a place to work in peace which almost cost him the work of two months, not to mention his life when, during the all-out brawl in the canteen, one of the Berserkers threw a giant axe at him. Caster didn't even noticed it and yet he managed to avoid it, courtesy of banana skin lying on the floor. The edge of the axe almost ripped the book out of his hands though. From that time onward, he was carefully hiding it in the pocket and was checking on it every now and then.
Now, he was confused. Several Servants were already fighting, weapons and armors blazing in the sun, some of them were ignoring the duels and were chatting with each other. He thought that maybe it's a good idea to find a companion to talk. He was sure nobody would want to decapitate him after introducing himself, but that stick had two ends and Caster was aware of that. In that case, he chose to look for someone with that... intelligence in his or her eyes.
Sadly, the only two Servants like that in the class(or at least the only two Caster noticed) were those twin Sabers. He didn't want to interrupt them just so he could say something. He decided to head to his dorm and resume the reading of the Necronomicon, alongside with making useful notes about it.
As he was leaving, he felt a heavy hand laying on his shoulder. Caster gulped, terrified. "Care for a duel?" The voice of the man said with mocking tones in it. Apparently, by duel he meant slaughter.
"Well, as far as I'd love to... I, uh, have plans for today and, uh, well, I'm afraid I'm... uh, not in disposition to fight." He said, without turning his head at the man.
"It isn't a problem at all." The voice said and Caster could feel cold sweatdrops running down his spine like a bloodhound. He turned back and gulped once more, seeing the beard like those of the Vikings and small, azure eyes, piercing through him like spears.
"I... Uh... I-I am t-terribly sorry, Dear Sir, b-but, well, you see... Oh goodness, is that two Assasins behind you?!" He screamed, pointing behind the man. He turned back his head just in time so Caster could apply reinforcment on Necronomicon and swing it with all the might he'd got. His adversary went down, stunned and surprised, but the book didn't take it too well even with spells powering it up.
I hope I'd be able to repair it..., Caster thought as he was sprinting down the corridor, watching the heavily damaged cover of a grimoire.
The short man with black hair plowed headlong into Archer as the latter rounded a corner. Archer was knocked backwards and was barely able to maintain his balance. He looked over the one who had rammed him - short, scrawny, carrying a book... definitely a Caster. Likely a very weak caster, but still valuable if he could get him on his side. "Easy, easy," he said. "Where's the fire?" At that point, Archer saw a large bearded man bearing down on them. "Ah, that would do it," he muttered. He grabbed Caster and began to run down the hallway, yelling, "Come with me if you want to live!"
"Why, thank you, Good Sir!" Caster replied with relief, though he still was watching the incoming enemy with anxiety. The brute was way too fast for them to escape from him, but since now he had some other Servant aiding his cause - or rather, escaping alongside him - they had some slim chance of victory. "But how exactly are we supposed to run away from that warrior? He's catching up, and by offering your aid, you're slowing yourself down and I don't want any more casualties than necessary. I do believe I'll be able to escape in time and safely... I used to see Satan himself and live to write a book about it, so..."
As ridiculous as it may seem, Caster did achieve such a feat. Of course, if not for his mentor, Virgil, he would likely die at the first sight of the danger, but, hey, it still counts. He could try to slow him down with one of his potions, but he really was doubtful about results of said flimsy attacks. He opened one of the bottles, while still handling his trusty improvised weapon in the other hand and started to pour it over the whole length of the corridor. Much to his surprise, it somehow worked: The pursuer stumbled and fell down on the floor, again, dazed.
"Oh, we've got some extra seconds." He said to Archer, smiling. "And once again, thank you so much, Good Sir. Would it be much of a problem if I knew the name of my savior?"
"Yeah, actually," said Archer amiably, still running flat out. "Just call me Archer. And as for escaping, you're not slowing me down much. This is about as fast as I can go anyway, so even if you don't, I'm still gonna have to fight this guy, and by the looks of it, I could use some help. What have you got for offense?"
"Heh..." hummed Saber as she smiled gently.
She felt slightly happy as her apparent twin was full of confidence. She looked back up at her fellow Saber, and responded in a equally confident tone. "Yes, it would be the determining battle that would bring this Grail War to a end."
"Our blades will sing through the halls of this place, and if there are any servants still around to bear witness to them, then they will have the image of their clashes embedded into their memories."
Saber was speaking with great pride, and great confidence, something she hadn't done for so long. It... felt nice being able to loosen up after so long.
"What the hell are you doing?" "I'm playing a role, sir, what are you doing?"

For the first two months after the initial summoning and debriefing, the heroic spirits settled into their student lives. Getting used to (or putting up with) classmates, and enduring the torment of studying. With no word from the OVERLORD for an uncomfortable period, all was calm and the famous figures from around the world got a chance to settle down in a normal life. Some relished the opportunity, doing things they never had a chance to in their preivous lives. Though for those who did not desire such a respite, anxiety took a toll.
One average day during lunch, most the servants were eating in the cafeteria, gathered in various circles of friends. A few stragglers would be eating in class or outside, but they were far and few inbetween. Like a bolt from the blue, the voice on the P.A. came to life.
"*Tap-tap* Oh. Okay. Hey everyone. This is your OVERLORD speaking. I apologize for the delay, we had some... Well... Happenings. Anyway, we're now ready to get the grail war started. Some rules: No fighting during class. Only during lunch or out-of-school hours. That cool? Cool. Okay, FIGHT!"
The voice cut-off leaving the servants to either finish their meals or to engage in an all-out brawl.
It's starting!
edited 20th Nov '11 8:05:20 PM by neobowman