fate/first order derivative

Part I.12

> continue: iteration 19, day 3, afternoon

So after a few hours of work, this is what I've got:

THIS WEEK! Don't miss the:

FIFTH FUYUKI CITY HOLY GRAIL MASSACRE!

War Is Begun!!!!!

MARVEL in amazement as seven legendary heroes from across time and space compete for the ultimate prize! NO HOLDS BARRED. NO WEAPONS BANNED! Parental Guidance Highly Recommended! THERE WILL BE BLOOD!

Featuring:

- the undefeatable LANCER, master of the Irish martial arts!
- the magnificent SABER, Azure Paladin of Destruction!
- the incredible BER-ZURR-CAR -- Careful! He might drive you insane! ‡

SEVEN WALK IN. ONE WALKS OUT! The battle of a lifetime has arrived! So don't be a loser. Shell out your hard-earned cash today and get ready to witness the blood-stained epic tragedy of your nightmares! LIKE A BOSS.

For information and tickets, contact Tomasu Tomonaga, c/o...

‡ when available, all ticket sales final.

There. That should be enough to trigger whatever keyword filters Kotomine or whoever has set up, provided he's thought to watch the net and all. Stung a bit coming up with a thing for Berserker. That's all still pretty fresh and everything. But hey -- if you can't laugh, you might as well just go crazy, right? (Besides, no matter how I tried dressing it up, the title "Archer" really doesn't scream Heel to me.)

So I try posting it to the official city newsgroup. Sure enough, five minutes later, it's gone. I post it again, just to make sure they got the point, then throw it on a couple of imageboards for good measure.

Right. Now to see how long it takes for them to drop the hammer.

***

> skip to: iteration 19, day 4, late night

A little over a day, it turns out. I'm in my bed, on the verge of drowsing off, when I feel a hand come down over my mouth. I open my eyes. Lancer stands next to the bed, the point of his spear hovering just a few millimeters over my heart. "Listen up," he says. "Only words you're allowed to say here are yes or no. You raise your voice, you lie to me -- and I'll know if you lie to me -- and I gut you like a cheap fish. Capiche?"

I swallow and nod.

"Now -- does anyone else in this house know about the Grail? Did you tell any of them?" He loosens his grip around my jaw.

"No," I squeak. Dammit, I planned for this, I practiced it. Just move your stupid mouth and say the words --

"Good." Lancer clamps down on my face again before I have the chance. "I hate killing families. It's always such a goddamn mess to clean up. Next --"

This might be my last chance. I try to take in a deep breath through my nose without him noticing.

"Aside from that post of yours, did you tell anyone outside the house?" He uncovers my mouth.

I say, "No-and-before-I-die-can-I-get-you-a-drink?"

There's a moment of complete silence.

Lancer slowly pulls the spear back, his eyes narrowed. "... what kind of drink?"

***

> thank god for the irish

Technically, it's more thank God for ancient, magically-binding promises. I lucked out here, in fact. I actually meant to ask if he wanted something to eat -- the legends say his geas made him unable to turn down any offer of food. But I guess this works too?