Brock and Lancer “Nine hundred sixty-eight… nine hundred sixty-nine… nine hundred seventy…” One thousand crunches was the perfect way to start the day. Rays of early morning sunlight streamed through the apartment’s large windows while Brock performed his typical morning routine. “So, what’s the plan for today?” Lancer said as he strolled into the room, flopped onto the couch, and switched on the television. “You think the priest’s back in town yet?” “Nine hundred seventy-nine… He’d better be,” Brock grunted between reps. “We’ve got a carload of snake-dude corpses and its starting to smell, bro… nine hundred eighty-one… nine hundred eighty-two…” Lancer switched on the news, which was more of the same. The strange disease was still spreading; the number of known cases had risen to a hundred. “We can’t lay low forever,” Lancer said. “How long do you intend to hide?” “I ain’t hiding,” Brock replied, while trying to keep count in his head. “We’re just letting things settle down before we take to the field again. And I wanna see Hiroshi before we do anything.” He suddenly stopped and sat up straight. “Shit! I lost count. Where was I, bro?” Lancer shrugged. “Five hundred-and-something,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin. “Liar.” “Fine. Start over, then.” He shut off the television and stood up. “This is a waste of time, Brock. I wasn’t summoned to hang around your apartment all day. This is a war and I intend to win it… even if you don’t seem to give a damn one way or another. Let’s go to the Church, but if Hiroshi isn’t there today, forget about him. I’m sick of sitting on the sidelines.” “Fair enough. He’ll be there,” Brock said. “He’s the referee. How long can he stay away?”
"You're all better." Denis said looking Joan up and down. "We servants heal fast, that car crash was nothing. Denis, no more mistakes this time." Joan said determined. "Agreed, but how should we proceed? I believe it is best we switch locations, lancer knows we are here, we don't want him slitting our throats while we sleep." Joan nodded, the two left the dorm room while Denis'es room mate still slept, never to return. Joan had lost that sense of wonder on her face that she had when she first got here, the sense of betrayal was still fresh in her mind. "We will get him back Joan, we'll get all of them. But for now, lets do some house shopping."
Toshiro and Father Hiroshi Toshiro "Three days. Tell me, Toshiro, how is it that you have yet to eliminate anyone in this competition after three days?" Mitsushida questioned. The warehouse was still, and seemingly empty. Yokiko had been taken upstairs to the security room, where she could watch different areas of the city, all transmitted through blood wards. "The competition is laying low." "Excuses, excuses. I give you the strongest servant and you have yet to prove it's worth. I suppose that hints at how much you value your sister's life." Toshiro clenched his fists and berserker growled from the shadows behind him, red eyes pulsating. "Why shouldn't I kill you right now?" He said under his breath. Mitsushida cackled sinisterly. "Toshiro, Toshiro... the only thing I expect from you is to fulfil your purpose. You were my greatest creation - I'm extremely proud to be your father." An eery smile spread across the old man's face. "And you will bring me the grail. All these years I've waited for another sip of its glory. So don't try to play hero and get on with your task." The only thing stopping Toshiro from unleashing berserker on his father was that it meant death for Yokiko. If he had it his way, he would kill the old man and force his servant to commit suicide. But he couldn't do that. Not now. ------------- Father Hiroshi Father Hiroshi returned to the church in Fuyuki around 5:30 PM. The sun had nearly set, and he would soon have to make the announcement. It was already too late and the mages would be waiting for it. But before he could do that, he had to somehow reach out to the girl, to save her. That's when he heard someone enter. The church was small, and he stood by the altar, so it was easy to see the shadows blocking the doorway - one extremely large and built, and the other smaller and lankier. It was Lancer and his giant master, Brock the American. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. "Good evening, gentlemen. How may I be of assistance?"
Brock and Lancer “Well, look who’s back,” Brock said as he and Lancer stepped into the church for the third time in three days. “We’ve been looking for you, Holy Man.” “Odd time to take a vacation, don’t you think?” Lancer commented. His toe was slightly accusatory. “Do refs always leave the field just as the game begins? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was running from something…” Brock ignored his servant’s comments, for the time being. Hiroshi’s timing was rather inconvenient for them, but he didn’t suspect the man was up to anything. However, someone else was and Brock intended to get to the bottom of it… preferably with the Church’s help. Brock reached the front of the sanctuary and took a seat in the first row, where he could look Hiroshi in the eye. Lancer opted to remain standing and paced near the altar, behind the priest’s back. “I’m not sure how involved the Church is allowed to get,” Brock said to Father Hiroshi, “but I’ve got somethin’ I want you to check out. Three nights ago, me and my ‘friend’ over there were attacked by some strange creatures. Sounds like something a Caster would conjure up, but it doesn’t fit the description of Caster the girl gave us. I don’t think this Caster is a summoner, so I need to know where these monsters came from.” “We’ve got a trunk full of smelly snakemen,” Lancer concluded, “and their weapons and gear. Does the Church do forensics?” He smirked. “Hell, they seem to do everything else these days.”
