Fate/ Team Fortress
Take notes, guys. This is what happens when a plot monkey seizes hold of your brain and refuses to let go.
Don't expect anything remotely resembling coherency here. Fair Warning!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The Holy Grail War was a ritual that had gone through many generations. Great heroes of humanity's past forged contracts with magi of the present day to compete for the ultimate prize – a wish made to Akasha itself, rewriting the fundamentals of reality to accommodate whatever was asked of it.
One quiet Fall in Fuyuki City, another iteration of the Grail War began again.
However, while the outcome of the war was by no means certain, what was certain was that from the outset, something, somewhere, had gone very, very wrong.
Shirou Emiya had expected a peaceful, quiet night. Dinner, some TV, maybe homework. The usual.
Was he got was chaos, someone – he still wasn't sure who, but it involved a baseball bat – trying to kill him, him stumbling into a shed and accidentally activating some sort of magic rune and what in the bloody hell was going on?
Matters were not helped by what sounded like several extremely loud explosions coming from nearby. Nearby as in 'within the shed', which was problematic enough. The sound of someone yelling something that sounded suspiciously like a drill exercise only served to confuse him further.
"Teeeeeeenn-hut!" There was that voice again. As he waited for the smoke to clear, the only question in Shirou's mind was why there was a man kitted up in what appeared to be combat gear standing in front of him.
The fact that he was holding a rocket launcher was not a particularly comforting one, either.
"Reporting for duty, son! Where are the front lines?"
In the face of such a question, Shirou's only response was to make a confused gurgling noise from the back of his throat.
"You're sure nothing has gone wrong?" Rin Tohsaka's temper was something she had difficulty keeping in check at the best of times, and now was certainly not the best of times. With the Fifth Grail War on the line, her nerves were, to put it mildly, shot. Her dream of participating in the Grail War was about to come true at long last, and everything, everything, had to be absolutely perfect.
Except it wasn't.
The preparations for summoning a Saber-class servant had been gone through in meticulous detail. Well, of course. It was only natural that she'd want the class that had managed to become a finalist in every single Grail War prior.
But something had gone wrong. She hadn't summoned a Saber at all. What she had was-
"Yes, I am." The administrator of the current Grail War stared at her with an unflinching gaze.
"But these classes don't make any sense!" Rin held up the Class Cards up into the light. "First off, why are there nine different class cards? There're only supposed to be seven classes! And these classes! Why on earth is there an Engineer class at all? And what does a 'Heavy' even do?"
"I ad-mit that this Grail War will be conducted IN A man. Ner. Dissimilar to prevIOUS it-erations," and for that matter, something about the administrator that had replaced Kotomine ('health issues' being the stated reason) was… off, although Rin couldn't place exactly what. "But we who are CON. Ducting this exerciSE are fully committed to THE well-being of all participants." There was a soft whirring noise as the administrator turned to regard Rin's newly summoned Servant. "Servant and MASter alike."
How can you possibly be committed to the well-being of all participants? Rin raged inside her head. The whole point is for us to eliminate each other until only one remains! But instead of voicing her complaints she merely slumped her shoulders. If the administrator saw nothing wrong with this…
"Indeed. I look for. Ward to your successful performance in the Holy Cake WAR."
"Holy Grail War. That's what it's called."
"That is what i SAID," there was a long pause. "There will still. BE. Cake at the conclusion, of course."
"Yes…" Rin muttered as she stomped out of the church. "Of course."
"She's a right pleasant lass, ain't she?" her Servant said appreciatively as they left the building.
Rin's only response was a harsh glare. "Shut up, Archer."
"I told ya, miss, my class is Sniper."
"That was gettin' heavy," Engineer muttered as he set the contraption down on the front lawn of the house. With a click and a whir of gears, the machine began to unfold itself from a vaguely cube shaped box into a death-dealing mess of gears, belts, and guns.
"Uh, um, Engineer?" from behind him came a soft, hesitant voice.
"Yes'm?" a bright smile on his face, he turned to regard his current Master.
"Is this really necessary? I mean," she spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness, indicating the front lawn of her house, which was currently strewn with all manner of gears and devices. "This seems a little… extreme, doesn't it?"
Engineer tapped his wrench against his hardhat for a moment. "Now, you listen here, missy. What we're trying to do is win you the Grail War. And you know who we've got to beat to do that? The biggest bunch of mean ol' motherhubbards this side of the Mississippi. And in cases like this, the quickest, most efficient solution is to use guns. A lot of them," a kindly, almost fatherly smile appeared on Engineer as he patted the violet hair of his Master. "Don't you worry about a thing, missy. I'll get this all sorted out."
"Well, yes, but…" her voice trailed off. "I'm really not that keen on this whole 'Grail War' thing, you see."
He nodded. "Ah got that the first time I saw you. But the others, they're not gonna buy it, and they'll be gunning for you whether you like it or not. So, our best bet is to fortify the place and sit tight."
Beep beep beep! RATATATATATATATATA!
"Augh! What the HELL?"
"Shinji? Shinji!" Sakura gave a startled cry as she ran down the path while Engineer scratched his forehead.
"Whoops. Looks like this thing here was still programmed to attack anyone wearing blue," he shrugged. "Best get to fixing that, wouldn't you say?"
"Heheheh," Ilyasviel von Einzbern, better known as Ilya, chuckled from her resting place on her Servant's shoulder. "Wouldn't you like to hear more about my Servant, onii-chan? I'm sure you would"
Staring into the barrel of a gun he could have comfortably fit his head in, Shirou had to agree with her assessment, if only because the more time she spent talking up the hulking brute in front of him, the longer it would be until she gave the fatal order for him to fire.
"Hailing from the northern wastes of Russia! A close range DPS of up to 540! Three hundred hit points! A series of equipment unlocks all designed specifically to negate the weaknesses of his class!" Ilya clenched her fist in a symbol of victory. "Greatest of the Servants, the Heavy!" Her smile only grew with satisfaction as she folded her arms across her chest. "And that's not even getting into his weapon! It-"
A low rumble sounded from somewhere deep within Heavy's chest. Ilya paused and blinked.
"Oh. It looks like he wants to tell you about it himself. Well, why not? Go ahead, Heavy."
Heavy nodded and hefted his weapon into a more comfortable position – a position, Shirou couldn't help but note with unease, left it pointing directly at him. "I am Heavy Weapons Guy. And this," he patted the barrel. "Is my weapon. She weighs one hundred and fifty kilograms and fires two hundred dollar custom tooled cartridges at ten thousand rounds per minute," the grin on Heavy's grew, morphing from the smug satisfaction of a serial killer who knows he's good at what he does to something resembling a clown's terrifying grin. "It costs four hundred thousand dollars to fire her for twelve seconds."
There was an interminable silence in the clearing. Then,
"I will demonstrate."
This was it then. He was going to die. He was going to-
"C'mere, cupcake!" a meaty hand clamped down on Shirou's shoulder and he whirled to see Soldier at his side. Whatever marginal relief he might have felt at this was blasted away by the whirring noise of Heavy's weapon beginning its spin up.
"Save yourself!" Shirou managed to sputter and in response Soldier just aimed a glare at him. (Shirou thought Soldier had aimed a glare at him. The helmet made it kind of hard to tell.)
"No man gets left behind, soldier!" And with that he brought his Rocket Launcher to bear. Only, not against Heavy…
"Why are you pointing your launcher at the grAAAA OH GOD SAVE ME!" Shirou let out a rather pathetic scream as he was suddenly sent hurtling through the air at velocities he believed only achievable by Japan's Bullet Railway system.
Ilya watched her brother and his Servant sail away through the air and shook her head sadly. "So, he thinks he can outsmart us, huh?" she muttered darkly.
"They will not outsmart bullet," Heavy promised.
At the entrance to Ryudou Temple, Pyro stood in a silent vigil.
He had been assigned, an extra participant in the war to stand guard here, not to let anyone pass.
And he did so faithfully.
Up until the knife buried itself in his back, all the way to the hilt.
He tried to scream, but even the air in his lungs had been forced out.
The hallmark of the Your Eternal Reward was a silent kill, after all.
"You should never have been here," Spy glared down. "You are a false class, and have been one from the beginning."
There was no reply from the corpse.
"As you are, you are nothing, nothing but a pale shadow of what I am," pausing to take a long drag from his cigarette, Spy flicked the ashes off with an air of disdain. "Your Backburner unlock is the only worth of your Class now, is it not? And how do you use it? Sneaking, flanking, remaining undetected until the time is right to strike from behind the enemy. All tactics that I have perfected."
With a shake of his head and a shrug, Spy headed down the steps of the temple, into the night.
And so ended the Pyro's only real moment of significance.
After all, who cares about the Pyro?
Certainly not Valve.
(Isn't it sad, Pyro?)
"So, what you are is saying is that, I, the Master in this Grail War, will be the one doing the fighting."
"And you will be hanging back and providing… some nebulous support of some kind."
"I cannot bring myself to believe that is how the Master-Servant relationship is supposed to go."
"I am the Medic class, dummkopf."
"I am aware of that," Souchirou rubbed his forehead. "However, if what you tell me is true, even a weak Servant far outstrips any human's capabilities. I do not see how this is supposed to be work."
"Well, for one-"
"Gotcha!" there was a shout and from the darkness a blur leapt at them, almost too fast for Souchirou to catch sight of. "You're dead meat, chucklehead!" and suddenly he was staring down the barrel of what appeared to be a sawed-off shotgun.
"Sorry, don't like long introductions!" the capped man in front of him was already pulling the trigger, and from the gun a volley of pellets burst forth, anyone of which could punch a golf-ball sized hole through his body.
"Fully charged," a calm voice came from behind him, and suddenly the air was filled with the tingle of static electricity, and the pellets were now bouncing harmlessly off his now-glowing skin.
"What the hell?" the Servant who had attacked them sputtered before cocking his gun and firing again, to no discernible effect. "This is bullshit!" and with that, he sped off into the gloom.
Souchirou waited until the glow had faded before he turned back to the Medic. "That would be your power, then."
Medic nodded nonchalantly as he pushed his glasses up his face.
"And how often can we expect that?"
"Not very," Medic admitted.
"Then perhaps we should retreat to safety for now."
"Fer the last bleedin' time, my class is Sniper!" Sniper snarled as he followed after his Master.
"You have a bow and arrow. That makes you an Archer to me."
"I've got a bow and bloomin' arrow because you forced me to go get one! I always preferred the ol' Rifle to the Huntsman, anyways."
Rin sniffed disdainfully. "I'm not going to win the Grail War with something so uncouth as a slapped together rifle. You yourself said you were good with a bow and arrow, so that's why you'll be using it. Now, let's go find some other Servants to fight."
Sniper paused, running a hand across his chin thoughtfully. "No, that won't work."
"Oh? And why not?"
"Because we're bein' hunted."
"To the left. Trying to hide himself amongst the trees. Scout, if I don't miss my guess." Slowly, deliberately, Sniper drew an arrow. "He's impatient. Eager. Good. He'll break to the right soon enough."
Rin stared at where Sniper had been indicating. She couldn't see anything. "Are you su-"
Boom. A blur burst from the trees, weaving away from Sniper's arrow and circling around the two of them with astonishing speed. Before Rin could fire off a spell a ward, the blur was already on them, and-
Aluminium bat was straining against Kukri. Sniper winced with exertion as he pushed back against Scout's melee weapon, while the more agile Servant growled at being forced into a contest of strength. Then-
A baseball thrown from point blank range smacked Sniper in the chin, and the dazed Servant fell backwards. The stun had lasted for but a second, but it had done its job, and now Sniper found himself staring down the barrel of the Scattergun.
"Clever girl," he hissed.
Scout smirked, and finger started to tighten-
"Gandr!" A magic shot fired by Rin smacked into Scout's cheek and he jerked away, staring at her.
"Ow! Lady, what the heck was that f-" too late, he realized that he had given Sniper an opening. His attempt to twist away was a fraction of a second too slow, and the Kukri cut clean through Scout. His expression of outrage lasted just a moment longer than he did.
Master and Servant stared down at their defeated foe while breathing heavily.
"Well… that went well," Rin finally muttered.
"Could've been worse," Sniper acknowledged.
"We might not make such a bad team after all, Archer."
"Whatever. Come on, let's just go."
"Hey! Engie!" Shinji's annoyed shout came from behind Engineer as he tinkered with the latest of his Sentries. "Let's hurry up and go! That Grail War isn't going to win itself!"
"Go? Go where?" Engineer inquired as he rubbed his greasy hands on a towel. "In case you missed it, my class isn't the best suited for attacking head on. I'm more of a 'sit and wait for the enemy to get cut to pieces against my wall of bullets while enjoying a cup of java' kind of guy. And speaking of java-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Shinji flipped his hands carelessly. "And whatever, I'll deal with your uselessness as a Servant later. But there's gotta be some stragglers we can pick off or something."
Engineer sighed. Sakura had been more than happy to hand responsibility of commanding Engineer to her brother, believing herself unworthy of being a Master in the first place. Well, if his current behaviour was any indication, he was going to get them all killed before too long.
"If you say so, boss," he finally replied. Best he could do for now was to just look out for the kid and make sure he didn't get himself killed.
"Right, I'll get my coat," Shinji paused. "Where's my coat?"
"Ah! It's over here, Shinji!" Sakura stumbled out of her room. "I'd just finished cleaning it, so – ah!" she recoiled instinctively as Shinji slapped her across the cheek.
"God, you're useless," Shinji snapped. "You were supposed to do the cleaning yesterhurk!"
Engineer's steely glare was locked on Shinji as he struggled against the vice-like grip on his throat that had lifted him a foot and a half into the air. Sakura, eyes wide, grabbed at his arm.
"Engineer! No! You mustn't!"
Ignoring Sakura, Engineer continued to fix his gaze on Shinji. "Now," he began slowly. "Ah appreciate that you're my Master by proxy, and you're a teenager besides, which means you're stupid. But if you ever lay a hand on the pretty little miss again, Ah will break your Goddamn spine. Are we clear?"
Shinji's attempts at formulating a response where quickly foiled by the rapidly diminishing amount of air in his lungs. Engineer held his grip for a moment longer before releasing, letting Shinji collapse to the ground in an ungainly heap.
"Well then," he said, still in a tone devoid of any warmth. "Let's go looking for Servants."
Then he paused, blinked, and whirled, staring off into the gloom. Impossible. It could be. But it was-
"SPAH SAPPIN' MY SENTRY!" he bellowed.
Meanwhile, making use of the distraction, Spy slipped into the house undetected.
"I – impossible," Shirou muttered as he stared at the new foe before him. Over the past couple of days he'd had the misfortune of tangling with several Servants, but this was something entirely different. Something… impossible.
"How can… a single Servant… possess so many swords?" he gasped out. Across the plaza, their latest foe smirked confidently at him.
"How, laddie? Ach, now, that's the question fer the ages, ain't it?" Demoman puffed out his chest proudly. "Each and every last one o' these booties were stocked with the treasury of old DeGroot Keep. A time when my family owned alla Bonnie Scotland!"
"Ah, they're not so special," Soldier snapped. "I've got that one over there, and that one too! Never used it much, though."
"Aye, Soldier," the gleam in Demoman's eye was not a pleasant one. "Ya never did know howta treat yer weapons right. That Shovel'a yours is starting to see a little o' the ol' wear and tear, ain't it now?"
"Wha-! How dare you, you miscreant! All of my standard-issue weaponry are in pristine condition, and I won't stand to hear you claim otherwise, you goddamn Commie-Nazi!" And from his backpack, Soldier drew a Cow Mangler, the futuristic weapon already glowing with the energy needed for a charge shot.
"Yer a careless one, Soldier," Demoman had already brought out a shield and hunkered himself low down. "Doncha know I've got protection against those blasts o' yours?"
The charge shot of the Cow Mangler seared through the air – only for Demoman to charge under it, slamming into the Soldier and sending him flying backwards.
"Yer a goddamn pansy, that's what you are. Just because you got both eyeballs still in that thick skull o' yours…"
"I won the War Update, you maggot!" Soldier roared as he clambered to his feet again.
"And gotcherself a fancy pair of Gunboots, eh? Guess you needed something ta protect your little nancy soles everytime you rocketjumped. Well guess what," there was a tiny pop as Demoman popped a Sticky Grenade onto the ground. "This is how ya Stickyjump!"
Shirou watched the Servant sail off into the air for several long moments. Then, he scratched the side of his head.
"Is he, um, is he coming back?"
"Just one question then," Sniper said calmly as he faced down a glowering Heavy.
"You don't mind if I kill 'im, do you?"
Rin's eyes widened. "Don't be stupid! You-!"
From within his coat, Sniper drew out an innocuous looking jar. "Been savin' this one," he nodded thoughtfully, and he flung it straight at the swiftly approaching Heavy.
Heavy stared at his soaking vest in disbelief. "I have been covered in urine," he said.
He drew in a deep breath.
"I DO NOT LIKE BEING COVERED IN URINE!"
With a whir, Sasha began spinning, a sure precursor to the hail of bullets that would soon come. At the same instant, Sniper drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. Pulling back as far as it would go, he shifted his aim directly towards Heavy's head.
The arrow was released at the exact same instant that that the first of Sasha's bullets spat out from the gun, tearing into Sniper, perforating his insides, and sending him flying several feet back. The arrow, meanwhile, flew straight and through, stabbing straight through Heavy's skull.
"AGGGGHHH YADAAA!" Heavy gave an incoherent final scream and collapsed.
Rin, meanwhile, gave a cry of alarm as she scrambled to her Servant's side.
"Archer! Archer, are you okay? Hang in there!"
Sniper opened his eyes, gazing blearily into his Master's face.
"Hey…" he gasped out.
"Don't talk, we'll need to focus on-" she was cut off as he reached up one hand to clutch her shoulder.
"Listen…" he leaned in closer. "I'm… the bloody Sniper, you bloomin'… wanker."
And with that, Sniper returned to the Respawn Room of Heroes.
"What are you doing here?" In the inner sanctum of the Matou house, Zouken glowered at Spy as he entered. "I ordered you to remain at the temple and wait for further orders."
"Yes, I know, but unfortunately, monsieur, there has been a matter that I felt needed to be brought to your attention."
"Yes, indeed. It's like this," Spy took a step closer. "You see…"
It should have been impossible for a knife, no matter how skilfully wielded, no matter if the wielder was a Servant, to kill Zouken Matou with a single stab. And yet the instant the silver blade hit home, Zouken felt a cold emptiness explode through his body.
Killed by a f – facestab… with the last of his vanishing strength, Zouken croaked out, "Goddamn… hitboxes…"
"I never really was on your side." Spy finished as he stared down with disdain at the dissolving pile of insects and worms.
"So," Souchirou began.
"It appears we have been mostly ignored."
"It appears so," Medic nodded sagely.
"I won a pair of opera tickets in a raffle. Do you wish to go?"
"Vell, vhy not?"
"Yer gonna face me down alone, laddie?" Demoman sneered. "You've got stones, but not much else."
Shirou nodded, his face set. "There's been enough bloodshed in this war. I'm going to bring an end to it, right here, right now," he glared angrily at his opponent. "You've forgotten what it is to be a Demoman! Your job is to do area-denial and building destruction. Not running around the field trying to chop people in melee like some idiot! So, I'll bring an end to your stupid dream of being a melee-specialist class!"
"Ha! Well, let's see how well ya do against THIS!" Brandishing one his many weapons, the Demoman charged forward again.
"Trace ON!" Shirou yelled as he focused his prana, forging a shield and bringing it up to block his opponent's wild attack.
Demoman scratched the side of his face. "Laddie, that Chargin' Targe you just traced… it's only proof 'gainst fire and explosions. It ain't worth a Loch Ness Hamster's eyeball when facing something like my Eyelander."
Shirou stared at the sword protruding from his gut. "Now you… tell me…" he managed to mutter before collapsing into an ungainly heap on the ground.
Demoman sighed and tucked his sword away. "Well, that's one o' them blighters down. Now it's aboot time I hunted down the next-"
"GERONIMO!" Impacting the earth at several hundred miles per hour, Soldier silently thanked whatever powers that be for giving him the Mantreads. As he crawled out of the crater that he had left from his return to earth at extreme velocities, he stared down at the mangled form of the Demoman.
"Now tell me my boots are pansy boots, civilian!" he roared.
"And then we decided that we could just share the cake," Engineer concluded as he took a long drink from his canteen. "And we also convinced Soldier that that Shinji kid was a draft dodger."
"That would explain the screams," Rin mumbled from her position on the couch. "You want a cookie, Ilya?"
"No, thank you," Ilya shook her head. She was still a little shell-shocked about having lost Heavy, but otherwise she was coping well enough.
"Shirou should be out of the hospital by the end of this week, too," Engineer nodded as he helped himself to one of the cookies. "All in all, Ah'd say we got ourselves a happy ending."
And meanwhile, far away…
"So where's the next Holy Grail War supposed to take place?" Saber folded her arms as she stared at Archer, who was flipping through a rather thick dossier.
"Some desert town called Dustbowl."
"Never heard of it."
Thanks for reading.