Gamestar Forum

MMMMMM

Seal saw that zen's door was **** open and she found him, asleep on the bed. Being very tired and not paying attention to what she was doing, she decided to cuddle up next to him.

See, Seal has this thing with cuddling. It makes her feel safe and relaxed. She put her head on zen's chest and focused on his heart beat and his breathing. She then fell asleep again.

Sierra

"GOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT!" Sierra shouted while running towards them. She shoved the grapefruit into FF's mouth hoping it would do something. ((FF, you choose wat happens))

((Posting for Seal))

MMMMMMMMMM

Seal, yet again felt her kouhai instincts kick in. She ran towards where everyone else was and charged at the door, which was already open, but she didn’t know that so she ran  into the mirror, breaking it.

Nick

The teenager emerged into the clearing, and his eyes fell upon his unconscious servant. He immediately began to survey the area, noting the deep trenches and craters that scarred the ground.

So this is a true servant battle... Despite his extreme annoyance, he sill couldn't help but feel awe at the sight.

Nick crouched now over the body of Berserker, who's breathing was noticeably getting shallower and shallower. His probing fingers found the deep wound at the back of the neck, the deep purple coloration that surrounded it, and the small measure of purple liquid that had leaked out onto the skin.

Poison, eh... and the dosage must have been absolutely ridiculous to put him down through his mad enhancement. Though he may not have had a chance to set up all the way... Still, the fact that the other teams controls servants this lethal is disconcerting.

This wound would have killed an ordinary man a thousand times over... it's definitely beyond a magus' ability to fully heal. What a waste.

Still, Nick wasn't ready to give up just yet. He was still a master, damn it, and the most powerful one in this war at that. He would NOT be eliminated here.

So he sat. And he thought. And thought. And still he continued to think, with part of his brain growing increasingly worried as Berserker's breathing weakened further. The Servant's pulse had temporarily stopped twice before realization lit up Nick's eyes for the first time. His frown of deep concentration was once again replaced with that trademark icy grin, but this time, it actually reached his eyes.
"So you'll just be unable to stop until you kill someone?"

"Precisely. Those were good times, they were, in the olden days; My sword would come out, and I'd get that rush. In the war against the Goths, I actually butchered a whol-"

"What if you're not strong enough? What if you CAN'T kill the enemy, even with mad enhancement?"

"If you insult my power again, I will kill you, master or not."

"I was speaking in hypotheticals."

"Doesn't mean it wasn't annoying."  Berserker fixed Nicholas with a glare, which Nick returned evenly, looking not the least bit bothered. Truthfully, he was used to his servant's rebelliousness by now. There was no way on Earth Berserker would kill him before they won.

"If you must know... My madness isn't just an on-and off switch. A better analogy would be pent-up pressure, but that doesn't cover it fully either. It's... well, it's a built-up-pressure with the catch that as soon as the pressure is allowed to escape, the new pressure increases. Like... Like a leak appears in a balloon, and you start squeezing it, and the squeezing gets stronger with the passage of time, or like if you just pulled a heart out of a corpse but you ripped out the big artery as well, which ends up-"

"I got it. You don't need to continue."

"Heh. Heart talk makes you squeamish, doesn't it? You really ARE a weakling..."

Nick just gave Berserker his trademarked 'Are you serious?' look.

"So, you can't have just said that it gets stronger over time...why? Was that phrase too convoluted for you?"

"Um... hearts are funner. Like, much funner. And balloons. Those are fun. Red ones... Besides, that wasn't even the complete analogy. I WAS going to go into a whole explanation of fat buildups in the artery, but if you want the short version... The Madness doesn't strengthen smoothly and incrementally. It increases in leaps and bounds. When somebody annoys me... especially if they're a midget kid like you. When somebody scratches me, though I honestly doubt anyone can. And most of all..." Berserker licked his lips slowly. "When I come close to killing somebody. THAT riles me up like nothing else!"

Nick looked thoughtful. "So... whenever one of these things that trigger your bloodlust happens, it's like you get mad and squeeze the heart HARDER... That's handy. They all seemed to be designed to ramp you up when the fight gets hard."

"Yeah... squeezing harder... that's a pretty good description. But the fight isn't really HARDER, since, y'know, my fights are never HARD...  Let's say it's funner."
Nick slowly raised Berserker's hand, which still loosely held the legendary blade; raised it all the way up and slit a shallow incision across his forehead, which wasn't all that dangerous or painful but which he knew (from countless experimentation) bled heavily.

Even as the first drops of Nick's blood began to fall onto Berserker, his eyes flashed open. There were no pupils, no irises... only red.

Looks like we just hit EX.

Nick leapt back as Berserker rolled over onto his front and vomited.

Ugh... That poison is potent indeed. Even now, he's barely conscious. That lancer is truly impressive.

Berserker craned his neck behind him, saw Nick, and growled.

Okay, I'm done with part one... I got him awake. Now how to make him dematerialize without him killing me? His infuriating skill makes command seals ineffective.

"Berserker! I am your master! Dematerialize now, or I'll have to put you down myself."

In response, the servant managed to push himself up to his knees. He tried to lift his sword, but he was too weak too even swing it properly. Berserker held it low in his left hand, not bothering to use it properly but unable to stow it away, and instead. rose shakily to his feet. Even as this took place, a new plan crystallized in Nick's mind. When Berserker conjured his sword from the scabbard, the mana drain increased... which taken to it's logical conclusion, meant.... Well, it would be worth a shot, anyway.

"You're far too weak to kill me in your current condition, Berserker. Is there no way to break you out of your Mad Enhancement?"

Berserker took a swing at with his right fist, feeble by servant standards but still much stronger than an ordinary human. Nick merely scrambled backwards again. This time, however, he appeared to be less nimble. His foot fell into one of the trenches Berserker had formed, and Nick tripped and collapsed onto his back.

Come on now, Berserker... come closer...

A cruel smile opened across Berserker's face as he made his way to where Nicholas lay.

Mad Enhancement makes your fights funner, right? Come on then. Let's have some fun.

Berserker reached down and grabbed the front of Nick's shirt, lifting him clear off the ground and smirking victoriously.

Before suddenly screaming and stumbling backwards, dropping Nicholas, as a being of pure flame spawned inside him.

Now it was Nick's turn to smirk, looking down at the place where he 'fell.' Two handprints and two footprints, where his appendages touched the ground. And the servant had walked into it like a fool.

Nick felt Berserker's mana drain on him suddenly collapse sharply as the sword vanished.

Just as I thought. The swoord, as a Noble Phantasms, is coumpounded to the existing mana drain; thus it will be deactivated before Berserker dies. And since it's the source of his Mad Enhancement, that's broken now.

"Can you speak now... Heidrek."

"Yeah... In retrospect, your plan still seems convoluted. You dealt a killing blow to me, so my sword disappeared... but I had A rank battle continuation, so you knew I'd survive for at least a minute afterwards... AND you know that injuries sustained during Mad Enhancement don't become more damaging when the Mad Enhancement ends. But... aren't I dying anyway, now? You managed to buy me a few minutes of sanity before I died, so congrats on that, I guess..."

"No, you still don't understand. A minute is more than enough for you to dematerialize, Heidrek. And since your condition stabilizes a lot in that state, I'll be able to get you to healer and the materialize you... and you're maybe slightly patch-up-able. Your Noble Phantasm is gone forever, and it would be impossible to recover your health fully, but I still want a servant in this war. You'll be crippled but alive and usable. So come on. What are you waiting for? Dematerialize! Now!."

Heidrek, the Terrible King of the Goths, smiled a genuine smile for the first time. "No."

"NO?! What do you mean, Heidrek, just dematerialize already! You still want to live, right? Still want a chance to WIN? Does this war mean NOTHING to you?!"

"Again, no. Fighting isn't fun without my sword. And I'm as a servant, mediocre at best, now that my Mad Enhancement is gone. Frankly, it's better to die than live in shame like this."

"What? Don't you want revenge against that Lancer?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm going to kick her *** if we're ever summoned in the same war again. Now shut up and stop trying to get me to dematerialize. You can't convince me, and you can't force me to. I can resist one command seal like that, thanks to my skill... knew that would come in handy."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"You wanted to kill me?  Now you're giving up? That doesn't sound like something the Terrible King of the Goths would do. You're scared of no man. Except me, apparently. And the corpse I used to kill you? Mortal. Not even a Magus. You're legends must have been exaggerated, after all."

"Shut up." Berserker suggested pointedly. "If WE'RE ever summoned together, I'll kick your *** too."

"So this is it, then? You're abandoning me? Our battle? Our wish?"

"That is an accurate way of putting it, yes. This actually feels really good. Almost like I'm killing you after all."

Nick's eyes blazed with anger. "You... You may be able to resist a command seal, but even you cannot ignore two! By these, my first and second com-"

"It's too late for that, Nicholas Hemingway. May we meet again."

The man faded into pinpricks of blue light, which dispersed into the wind. Nick put his head down, punching the ground hard enough that his knuckles bled. He lifted his fist now, observing how the redness of his blood mingled with the deeper redness of the three now-useless command seals on his hand. Then he stood up and slowly began to trudge back to the clubs.