Not quite the Dead Man's Hand

[Miya Kishima]

Strumming on the acoustic guitar that she just happened to have in hand, Miya Kishima silently hummed to herself in some western tune that she happened to hear and enjoy on her trip to Lucca. It was probably some old Western tune, and if one wanted to stereotype this, a harmonica would be appropriate to playing such a tune. It sounded rather good on guitar, nonetheless. Her own voice managed to add on to it, which was nice to hear. Not that it mattered, Miya had complete confidence that her voice would be smooth enough for humming like a harmonica. To many, who passed the woman as she was playing the guitar on top of a park bench, with her legs crossed, and her knees against the seat of the bench, Miya Kishima had the appearance of either a traveling or residential musician. The former would be correct…

But hey, Miya Kishima wasn’t just some any random touring musician. She had a job, a rather fun, if somewhat illegal job. She worked as a thief, and a magical one to boot…well, she can’t cast ice spells or something, but at least she can make herself stronger via Reinforcement, which was extremely useful for heists. And she was good at it, to boot.

…Now was not the time to list credentials and talk about how awesome Miya Kishima is. That’s why a profile was there for, right? She already listed it all…damn Britza and damn Cardinal Vezzoni. Anyways, now’s the time to get down to business.

Miya stood up from the bench and slung the acoustic over her shoulder, and started walking bare feet to her hotel room. No one asked questions when they saw the woman walk with bare feet into the lobby. It was a typical consumer hotel, not the Versilia Palace Hotel, but still fancier than most. Stealing funds from dead people have never been so useful before.

With hands in her pockets, the pockets on the black leather cardigan, and her guitar on her back, Miya walked casually into an elevator, and pressed the button to go up to the thirteenth floor.

…One….two…three…stop counting for the next nine floors now…thirteen.

The woman exited the elevator, pleased that she counted thirteen syllables in the previous thought, a syllable per floor. She was weird like that.

Miya entered the hotel room, a two-bed one. She needed the space for her Servant, after all, and Miya could check in him or her after the ritual. The front desk only knows of another person who’s coming later today.

…How to get this Servant away from this room on the thirteenth floor to the ground floor without being seen, as to make the story more believable…? Servants should be able to survive a drop from high places, right? Or maybe they had some ability to make them invisible.

Nonetheless, Miya unstrapped the guitar on her back and opened the bag on her bed. She took out a sharpie, and eyed the wooden floors of the restroom. The woman than began to draw the magic circle in the restroom, which was rather spacious to say the least. The bath was huge, and the circle was being drawn in the middle of it. Good thing the bath was circular in shape.

Capping the sharpie, Miya tossed the pen behind her and reached into her pocket. In her hand was now a scarf. A red one to boot. No idea where it came from, but Miya just heard that a catalyst would be ideal for this sort of…summoning. She will take her chances, the red scarf has to mean something to somebody. Maybe she would summon a Russian who happened to have a red scarf or something.

Tossing the scarf into the circle, Miya zipped down the cardigan. She would need a little bit more breathing space for this ritual…right, now what was the chant again…?

…Got it…

"Ye first, O silver, O iron. O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract."

A slight itch began to develop on both of Miya’s shoulders, but it wasn’t too distracting.

"Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy blade.
If thou submittest to the call of the Holy Grail and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond."

Now the itch began to spread away from her shoulders. On her back, the two itch trailed until they met on the bottom of her neck, and on her front, the itch trailed down her shoulder and also met, where her sternum was.

"I make my oath here.
I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens.
I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades.
Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words,
come past thy restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance-!"

…

The itch was terrible now, but hey, got to see what the Grail coughed up this time.

[Wild Bill Hickok]

He was sitting in a saloon again. The wood of the building was rotten with mildew and worn rough by wind and time. The room was barren and dead, haunted by the ghost of a past it couldn't escape. He had failed; failed to live up to his promise, failed to live up to the image of the man he thought he was.

"I'm sorry."

I single thought of sorrow, a plea for forgiveness. He had promised to be with her now it was all meaningless.

His perception of his surroundings was blurred. The world around him was faded as if they were but an illusion that would disappear at the slightest touch. It was a dead saloon for a dead world. I was fitting for an existence such as his.

None of that mattered though for he was in the middle of a game. He concentrated on his hand looking over the two pairs and the kicker that sat there. He was playing poker. The faces of his partners were indistinct and blurry like everything else but that was alright. He was in it for the game not the reward. He only cared about the thrill and the challenge, the desire to test his mind and his luck. So what if he lost? He always recouped his losses and then some by the time he was done. No one ever won against him for long and he liked it that way.

The game went on as it usually did, winning and losing in an eternal cycle. As he played memories came to him. Records of a life of hardship and woe, a life that he thought would end it happiness.

"Jane."

The name is a whisper on the wind, a mote of dust floating in the endless sky of his mind. Ye the name stays with him. It was important wasn't it? The name, the face, the woman behind both; she was the person he struggle for wasn't she?

He pushed the thought away, immersing himself in his game to free himself from his memories. In his hand he held two aces; the ace of clubs and the ace of spades. With the aces he held two eights and a nine; the eight of clubs, the eight of spades, and the nine of diamonds.

It was a fair hand and he was sure that he could make something out of it. There five others at the table and all of them faced the door except him. Normally he would be the one to sit with his back against the wall, but he had been rebuffed time and again when he asked to switch seats.

A shivered as he threw away the nine. A memory of pain resurfaced. A memory of blinding shock and darkness. He hesitated for a moment before going for the deck to draw his next card. What was it that he was feeling? Excitement? Fear? What drove him to continue? What pushed him onwards?

The world around him shook in time with the beat of his heart. His hand was shaking and his heart was fluttering. What would happen as he drew the card? What would be his fate?

Suddenly the pounding of his heart became he steady beat of a pair of boot upon the floor behind him. There was the sound of a pistol being cocked and he attempted to turn around. He was too late.

There was a flash and a crack of thunder, and then darkness.

---------------------------------------------

There was a call. A circle appeared in the darkness and brought him forth into the world once more.

A flurry of prana surged up from the circle before Miya. From within the storm of creation a single figure began to take shape. The figure in the circle coalesced into the form of a young man, roughly dressed, and in the manner of the American Wild West.

The young man was of a medium stature, with silver, grey-white hair and blue eyes. He wore simple rough-spun pants and a black button-up shirt over which he wore a brown jacket. Around his neck was a red and white cloth, used to protect his face from the harsh weather of the Wild West. He had two pistols at his waist and his hands rested easily on them

Seeing Miya the man gave her an easy grin and a bow. "Howdy there pretty lady. So you've summoned me." He gave her figure a once over and his grin grew wider. He strode forth and gentle grasped Miya's hand before kissing it in a greeting. "You can call me Archer Master. I am at your service."

[Miya Kishima]

Miya watched the inside of the maelstrom created by her summoning with a pleasant expression on her face. Such a reaction caused by this high-scale magecraft could only be called a success. The question is, who will she summon? It was a scarf, but a scarf nonetheless. This meant the Servant existed when an article of clothing of that type was being manufactured…logically speaking, of course.

Well, who would she summon? Who was famous for wearing a scarf? Perhaps a World War II aviator pilot as a Rider class? Or that one Finnish sniper who was famous for over 500 kills during that very same war? Or maybe even Yamamoto Isoroku, who might’ve had this scarf so very long ago? So many possibilities! It’s really interesting to think about it, and expect some sort of prize to come out from all this speculation.

While humming cheerfully to herself, despite that major itch she felt during the ceremony, Miya saw the form of what appeared to be a…cowboy? Perhaps an outlaw was summoned in this war, and Miya just shrugged. Doesn’t make a difference, really, but criminals do work better with criminals, right? That should be the idea.

The man looked Miya over, and Miya just remained passive in expression. A man has to measure up a partner in many different ways, yeah? And now this man was walking over, grabbed Miya’s hand with the soft grip of a gentleman, and kissed it in greeting, all the while introducing himself as Archer.

Miya smirked. In reply, she gently took her hand away from Archer’s grip and curtsied to the Servant. In a rather sweet voice, although not to sweet to rub off as sarcastic or fake, Miya introduced herself in return.

“Welcome to this world, Archer. I am Miya Kishima, and I look forward to working together with you on this next adventure. Of course, if possible, mind if I have a more formal introduction on your part? Archer isn’t enough, since I would prefer your real name, if you don’t mind?”

[Wild Bill Hickok]

As Hickok leaned forwards to kiss Miya's hand he looked up towards her face to gauge her reaction. His newly minted Master did not disappoint as she smirked at him in reply and curtsied after gently taking her hand away from Hickok.

A flash of amusement and irritation flowed through him in that moment. Amusement that his Master obviously knew how to play the game, and yet irritation that she could not be smitten instantly with a man such as he. It was a minor irritation though and one only born out of a small amount of pride in his own figure. Besides, he was a man who had enough past troubles with women to ever think about romancing his Master.

Standing back up at his full height again, Hickok listened as his Master introduced herself. Miya Kishima was a name of obvious foreign origin to Italy. From his time spent on the railroads Hickok could tell that he name Kishima sounded Asian in origin. Possible Japanese since it didn't exactly match the Chinese names he had heard during his life.

Pulling himself out of his idle thoughts, Hickok answered his Master. "Alright then darlin'; while you can just call me Archer if you want, my real name is James Butler Hickok but most people call me "Wild Bill" Hickok. I've been a lot of things in my life from Stagecoach driver, to scout, sheriff, U.S. Marshal,......hell I even owned part of the Pony Express at one point."

Smiling at Miya, Hickok continued. "If theres a battle you need to fight I'm your man. There ain't a faster shot in all the West."

[Miya Kishima]

As Archer stood up in full height, Miya observed that her Servant wasn’t that much taller than she was. They were both roughly the same height, and to be honest, it bemused her slightly. After all, like Archer measured her up, Miya would in return…after the greetings of course. Archer didn’t disappoint Miya too much though. He would be perfect for some work in Miya’s line of business…

"Alright then darlin'; while you can just call me Archer if you want, my real name is James Butler Hickok but most people call me "Wild Bill" Hickok."

…Wait, Wild Bill Hickok?

"I've been a lot of things in my life from Stagecoach driver, to scout, sheriff, U.S. Marshal,......hell I even owned part of the Pony Express at one point."

Her Servant was a scout? A sheriff? A U.S. MARSHALL!?

Oh, yes, Miya didn’t show her reaction this news. A famous thief, a criminal who was highly wanted, is working together with a lawman, out of all people! Is this a twist a fate? An interesting pairing in the works by the hands of Kinoku Nasu God? Seriously, just what the hell is this? Working together with her most common, and most dangerous enemy, in this war that required perfect coordination and chemistry! Such a necessity was demanded by both Master and Servant!

"If theres a battle you need to fight I'm your man. There ain't a faster shot in all the West."

Still not betraying her emotions by means of her passive face, which was still smirking, Miya shrugged off her jacket, leaving her in her black sleeveless dress. She traced her finger on where the Command Seals were located…the areas where the itches were. It draped around her neck like an Egyptian neck collar, the last piece of the seal folding in between her chest and ending at the sternum.

Yup. It was definitely fate that she was to work with a lawman, out of all people. Oh well. She did pick out the catalyst, and although she expected something different, well, she got Wild Bill Hickok, and he did define the west. Hopefully cowboys make Siegfried the Dragon Slayer and Achilles cower when Archer shows the guns, should she ever come across foes like those.

With that, Miya reached her hand out and shook Archer’s hand. She was earnest in her words, and although she was a little frustrated earlier, Miya knew that it had to be done for the sake of a future with Archer as a partner in this war.

“That sounds promising, Archer. I’m glad that I have an advantage like that on my side. However, I feel that if I don’t tell you this right now, we will have a lot of problems in the future, and I really, really don’t want to have such problems, so I hope you value my honesty here.”

Taking a deep breath, because it would require a lot of oxygen to deal with Archer’s reply, Miya made her confession.

“Yer a Servant, Archer. I’m a thief in my line of work. Sorry to inform you, but your Master is a criminal, a rather famous one at that.”

[Wild Bill Hickok]

After introducing himself, Archer watched his Master intently. Was she going to be disappointed that he was a modern hero? Was she going to overjoyed? He hoped for the latter. Certainly he was no Sigurd or Achilles but he considered himself to be a stout fighter in his own right and barring some type of supernatural protection, he was certain that he could kill just about anyone.

His master kept a passive face, which was worrying in its own right. Her smirk, obviously fake, was plastered on her face like a bad mask. Hickok had spent years reading people so he could tell when someone was trying to keep something from him. His master was obviously displeased with something but he couldn't quite tell what it was.

After a moment's hesitation, his master reached her hand out and shook hands with him. Archer was glad that she was at least that courteous as he didn't know if he could stand to work with some self-righteous or snobbish bastard.

“That sounds promising, Archer. I’m glad that I have an advantage like that on my side. However, I feel that if I don’t tell you this right now, we will have a lot of problems in the future, and I really, really don’t want to have such problems, so I hope you value my honesty here.”

One of the things that Hickok most appreciated was honesty. He had spent too many years as a law-man to get along well with liars. Still, that type of preface made his a tad bit nervous. What was making her hesitate?

I’m a thief in my line of work. Sorry to inform you, but your Master is a criminal, a rather famous one at that.”

Ah a criminal. He thought to himself. He nodded his head in understanding before suddenly freezing as the information finally hit him.

"Wait, what?"

Hickok stared at her in surprise. His master was a criminal?! How could someone on the other side of the law even summon him? Sure, he had some moments where he shot first and asked questions later but he tried to be a good man....

Stopping for a moment, Archer took a deep breath to calm himself down. OK. This was OK. He could deal with this.

Facing his master squarely, Hickok spoke, "Alrighty then Miss, I can understand that but I'll say this now; I'm not going to be involved with any of your criminal activities. I'm willing to work with you since I need you to get to the grail but don't think I'll be your lacky."

[Miya Kishima]

After the information was given to Archer, the Servant had simply nodded, but Miya simply waited for the gesture to disappear as the information finally hit him, and Wild Bill Hickok realized exactly what happened and where his current situation is of this moment.

It made Miya a little sad. She was positive that she would've worked extremely well with Archer if circumstances were different, especially if Miya Kishima wasn't a famous thief. It seemed like in terms of personality, the both of them had traits that both of them seemed to like, and that sort of compatibility would've been perfect for a competition like the Heaven's Feel.

Nonetheless, Miya had a solution as she smoothed her dress.

"Thank you for understanding, Archer, and I plan to do my line of work separately from my position as a Master in this war. If I'm going to undergo criminal activities during the course of the war, it's more out of necessity for money than a need to steal. However, I am fairly confident that I wouldn't need to rob a bank as of now, as I do have money. So I wouldn't worry about myself being a criminal during the course of this war, and I also wouldn't worry about you getting involved in my activities either. I had no plans to use you for any activity as the such seeing that I lost my previous Servant that way anyways."

Picking up the jacket and throwing it over her shoulders once more, and slipping her arms through the sleeves, Miya gave a nod of her head towards the cloth on Archer's neck as she zipped up her jacket.

"Also, if you're worried as to how you were summoned by me, I used your cloth to bring you here. Of course, I had no idea who it would bring, but I like to think that this summoning was a pleasant surprise."

[Wild Bill Hickok]

Archer watched his master as she smoothed out her dress. He had firmly stated that he would have no part in any criminal shenanigans and he was awaiting her reply.

What he heard surprised him.

While he himself was no saint, Hickok had dealt with quite a few career criminals in his time. Nearly all of he criminal scum could not go any real length of time without pulling something. Whether it was cheating at cards, robbing a bank, killing their fellow Man, or any number of other crimes; those that fell onto the wrong side of the law could never leave.

His Master though had claimed that she would stay out of the bank robbing business for the time being which suited him perfectly well. Archer didn't quite know what he would do if he saw his Master rob a bank. He supposed that if worse came to worse then he would cripple her and keep her alive until a replacement master could be found.

At which point he would carry out his own form of justice.

In any matter the cards were on the table and he supposed he could play with what he was dealt. He could do worse for a master.

Watching Miya put her jacket on, Hickok was again surprised to hear that she had used it to summon him. He wondered what she would have done if some random nobody had been summoned instead of him? It was a rather hilarious thought.

"Haha" he chuckled, "You really know how to entertain a guy don't you master?" Adjusting his scarf, Hickok got to the heart of the matter, "Now that the introductions are out of the way, lets talk business. What are your plans? Any general rules of engagement that you want to abide by?"

[Miya Kishima]

Miya simply smiled at Archer’s laugh and comment, and just twirled on the spot. Giving a rather hearty laugh, she replied:

“Of course I have to know how to entertain people. Being a thief, stealing with style and flair has always been something I knew I should be doing. The best sort of thief, in my opinion, isn’t the type that will never get caught, nor can be identified. The best sort of thief is the type of criminal who can earn a name through style and flair, pomps and circumstances, and still remain free to continue with the business. That sort of thief must truly be skilled, to be so flamboyant in expression and action, and yet unable to be caught by the authorities.”

And then rubbing the back of her head sheepishly, Miya added onto her statement earlier.

“Of course, I’ve been doing it so much that it pretty much became my personality and character. It’s a little embarrassing to say that I let my work invade my personality and private life, but that’s how I ended up, sorry to say, My criminal tendencies made my current character, and you might have to deal with that. I still wish to be neutral in how we go with this partnership, so I promise I will do my best not to do anything out of the line that may upset you, especially since I asked you to work with me for this war.”

And seeing the change in the conversation, Miya nodded.

“As for plans and rules of engagement, I feel that most Masters may try to scout the city and landscape very early into the war, and that they may try to do it in the daytime. I feel like that will be the best plan to follow as well, we may end up running into enemies, but at least we can identify it, and as long as we remain in public area, it will be difficult for other Servants like Assassin to kill me. Public murder in broad daylight won’t sit well with the rules of engagement in the war, so I plan to take advantage of it to map out the area. As for combat, we will do the same as everyone else: fight in the night time. That will be the only way we can fight, and after properly mapping out the area for a couple of days before the war starts, we can choose places that will be to our advantage, and scout around each position every night. There will be an attack for sure, and we can use the best possible place for a fight. Any questions? Suggestions?”

OOC: And a question for you, Genki. Do you want to wrap this up in one more cycle, with Bill-Miya-Bill? Any adjustment? Not much left to say in this thread, so we can go ahead and invade some other thread~

[Wild Bill Hickok]

Archer listened to his master as she monologued, letting the soft sound of her voice wash over him. She was a person whose personality was very close to his own. She was a flamboyant, flashy type of person who let the illusion of who they were take over who they used to be.

It was true that the best type of thief, or at least the most entertaining, was one who let you know that they were coming and still managed to rob you blind. The same could be said for his former profession; those that took care of business with a flare were those that made themselves into legends.

But still, he felt uneasy working with someone who was so willing to break the law. It might be hypocritical from someone such as him to say so, but scoundrels can never be trusted. How could he know that she would not betray him in the end to get the grail? In the end he supposed he'd just have to keep an eye on her. Even with her abilities, she would never be able to match him so long as he kept his guard up.

As Archer continued to listen to his master speak, he heard her talk about the general outline for the rule of engagement that they would follow. The rules were simple enough and they fit his style to a tee. He didn't plan to hide and ambush others. He'd face the other heroes with style and come out on top.

Shaking his head, Archer indicated that he did not have any questions or suggestions. "No Master, I think that will work out fine. I suggest that we go somewhere more comfortable for now and rest until tomorrow morning. We can scout tomorrow during the day and patrol at night."

Looking around, Archer scuffed his boot a bit. "So, mind showing me our base of operations?"

(OOC: Lets call it after your next post. There isn't much to do from here.)

[Miya Kishima]

Miya gave another small smile as Archer nodded, indicating that he had no questions or suggestions, and that the plan worked perfectly for him. Well, despite personality and circumstance issues, she should work fine with Archer.

Nonetheless, now was the time for rest, but first...gotta show him the place. Holding up a finger, and then bending it to indicate that she wanted him to follow her, Miya Kishima left the massive restroom where she summoned her Servant, and down the five steps that stood before the restroom, showing the room in all its glory.

...To be honest, if the Versilia Palace Hotel was grander than this place, Miya Kishima would murder many people just to own a suite in that hotel.

The reclining area was in a bit of a den, with four angled couches lining four different corners of this den. Surrounding it was the floor, and in between each couch was a set of five steps leading down into the den, for a total of four set of steps.

On one side of the reclining area, to Miya's right, was a giant window, that gave the perfect city view. Perhaps for Servants who can track Archer and Miya back to their base of operations, or sense Archer's presence, such a window was unadvisable, but Miya dismissed the thought. They had places they can hide in this hotel.

To Miya's direct left was the kitchen, which came in the form of... a kitchen, with all necessary tools and necessities, and a counter right next to it, which had a massive iron grill on the center.

To Miya's front was two doors. Both of them were bedrooms, with stuff like television or wardrobes. In between the bedroom doors and the kitchen was the path leading out of the suite.

...In other words, it was decked out. Pointing to the right bedroom door, showing Archer that room was his, Miya went to the left bedroom door, and retired for the night...

Something she hasn't done in quite a bit of time, given her profession.