Chapter 5: The Gang Bets On A Catfight

{It's Always Sunny In Trifas is written in front of a live studio audience.}

After Johan had stopped convulsing on the floor and recovered enough to actually talk, Trent had started elaborating on his plan. "So, part of the reason why I suggested bringing Carmy into a throwdown with Semi-truck was because she gets a fame and homeland boost due to us being right next to Hungary. On top of that, if we fight them during the day, then the vast majority of the Red Faction won't be able to help her due to them all having supremely flashy attacks." He had actually sat up as he explained, hands at his side, the feather that he'd used to stab his friend hidden up a sleeve. The blond was forced to grunt when Carmilla swatted him lightly, unimpressed with his nickname for her.

"Except Shake and Bake," Johan interjected, levering himself to his feet with a grunt. His everything hurt, but he was coherent and capable of movement, so he counted it as a win. He glanced at Jekyll, who had snapped out of his cold rage to fuss over Johan and was now standing to one side as composed as ever. "But I think the Doctor can handle that, especially if I'm actually providing him with mana now."

He raised an eyebrow at Jekyll, who nodded, replying, "Oh, certainly. Where before I was barely able to manifest into this world, now I'm sure that I could use my Noble Phantasm, at least for a short while."

Something about that statement twigged something in Johan's memory, and he pulled out the grimoire that he'd woken up with. He paged through it rapidly, and eventually found what he was looking for. "If I can figure out how to use this friggin Magecraft, I might be able to extend that amount of time…" He snapped the book back shut after marking the page. "...But it'd probably be better to do that later."

He looked up at Trent, then glanced at Kairi and Mordred. "So...any ideas for what Bone Daddy and Saber should be doing?"

As Kairi spluttered in confusion, Trent leaned forward, and prepared to stand up, his back cracking as he did so. Carmilla peered at his incredibly dirty and dusty back, her face twisting distaste at the accumulated filth. The blond cleared his throat and admitted, "Well, I'd hoped that Mr Shishigou would be on standby outside as a getaway driver, while Smoldred would wait in the distance to keep her from being noticed."

"The Hell'd you call me?" the aforementioned knight all but roared, once again marching up to Blackmore, eyes blazing in fury. She was about ready to shake him when the others all gave her disapproving looks, which caused her to stop. She then gave him a quick punch to the kidney, sending him to the ground, wheezing in pain.

Surprisingly, it was neither Carmilla nor Johan, but Jekyll who commented, "You deserved that, you know."

Trent hacked out a cough, eyes wide and watering as he choked, "Alright, stopping now. Also, I did say that I'm an asshole. Needlessly antagonizing people is my comfort zone."

"Every day, I wonder if this is some punishment for my acts in life. Then I realize that this was just the most twisted compatibility summon ever," the Assassin grumbled, her lip curled in disdain as her sunglasses hid her eyes.

Johan stroked his chin as though pulling on a lengthy beard, then spoke. "Remember the wizened words of words of our dear Elizabeth Báthory-obsessed friend: Your rights end where other people begin." He shook a finger at Trent with mock severity. "Only antagonize people who can't turn your body into a cubist art display with their bare hands."

"Listen man, I need to get my fix somehow, it's either needling people or accidental bird race wars. Take your pick." Even as he said that, he shuffled back up to his full height, groaning as he rubbed what would obviously bruise. Though he did look to Carmilla, who had sent a mental squeak across their link when the albino had mentioned her old name."And it's not my fault Gawain and Lancelot didn't crack short jokes…"

"I'm sure that between the Knight of the Sun's potatoes and the Knight of the Lake's philandering, Saber received more than the requisite amount of torment from the other Knights of the Round." Johan replied dryly, sparing a glance at Saber to see how close Mt. Mordred was to erupting again.

While she definitely wasn't amused, she didn't look about ready to erupt, and instead interjected, "Feh, those guys wouldn'ta done it unless they thought they could get away with it! Gareth might, but only by accident."

"Yes, well, she did a lot of things by accident, like seducing all those knights and princesses," Trent chuckled at the thought of Lancelot's biggest fan trying to get along with Mordred and ending up insulting her. "Actually, wouldn't Kay've? No, he'd have gone after Arty, for sure…"

"Can we please stop gossiping about the Round Table? It's getting rather old at this point, and while slapstick is all well and good, I'm sure that the only one waiting for you to get kicked up and down the crypt by the Knight of Betrayal is the Knight of Betrayal," Carmilla sniped, looking both unamused and bored out of her mind. All while her eyes were hidden behind her shades.

"I dunno," Johan mused as he stood up. "I'd give it even odds that the dickwizard would find it funny." The exact moment before he finished getting to his feet, a pink petal materialized beneath his heel, sending him tumbling back down to the ground. A faint chuckle echoed throughout the crypt.

"See?" he groaned. "Merlin loves slapstick!"

"That's only because he knows that if he were here, he'd be the one getting hit," Trent grumbled, glaring at the petals as they swept through. "He knows that we know that he knows, and so do Gil and Solomon. And probably the Queen of Sheba."

He then looked up and remarked, "I probably just got all eyes on this event, didn't I?"

Johan sighed. "Moving on from the metaphysics and terrifying implications of EX Ranked Clairvoyance…we gonna do this thing or what? I'll be about as useful as tits on a bull, but I can at least go with you and act menacing at Amakusa."

"I mean, wouldn't it be better for you to actually start figuring out how to Magecraft? Like, if you wanna come, why don't you just hang out in the car with Mr Shishigou and he can give you advice?" the Canuck offered as he scratched at his chin, one hand still on his side.

Johan sighed. "Unfortunately, while you opening my Circuits definitely helped me out on that front, what I lack are materials. Specifically, ectoplasm." He glanced around the crypt. "While I think there is plenty here, I'm frankly not too thrilled with the idea of staying here by myself while y'all go and assassinate one, maybe two enemy Servants." He glanced around the crypt and shivered slightly. "For a number of reasons."

"I mean, if you wanna come and loom at Amakusa with me, feel free. Maybe you can help me make jokes about Kirei wanting to kill his wife when she necked herself," Trent said as he started to head for the entrance to the crypt, Carmilla shaking her head as she followed behind him.

Johan side-eyed the other man. "Sometimes I wonder why we're friends." He sighed, something he was starting to think he'd be doing a lot of. "Oh well. At least you're more likely to draw aggro with that mouth of yours."

"We're friends because you know that I ultimately mean no harm to people I like, while declaring the big fuck off at people I don't like," the Canuck said with a sharp nod. "It's not my fault that Mordred doesn't like my playful poking."

The Saber class Servant, while somewhat calmed, responded by beaning him with a rock. Again, light enough to hurt, but not maim or kill. He just rubbed at the back of his head, and admitted internally that the response was fair enough.

Johan rolled his eyes. At least Saber seemed to have settled on responding to Trent's insatiable appetite for punishment with non-lethal responses. That was...progress, right?

Right.

-x-x-x-

Stepping into Trifas's historic church alongside Johan, Trent couldn't help but feel that he'd made a horrible miscalculation. Rather than being empty except for the three of them, the chapel was packed with praying and worried people, one of whom was even currently speaking with the priest. As he hung back at the entrance of the chapel, the blond couldn't help but grumble, "I can't believe that all my plans backfire on me like this."

"I can. This is us we're talking about, after all," Johan quipped. "So, what's the play?"

"We continue on. While it's technically inordinately scummy, if he doesn't start anything then everyone in here will make it out just fine," Trent declared as he steeled himself to be even more horrible, it wasn't like he was trying. At this point, he was fairly sure that Darnic actually would just give him an Iron Cross.

Johan blinked, then an expression somewhere between disbelief and horror crossed his face as he processed what Trent was proposing. "I...I'd like to go on record that I oppose this, even if I don't have any better ideas."

"It's terrible, horrible, and completely morally bankrupt. However, it's also incredibly useful for us," the blond remarked pragmatically. As he said that, he approached Amakusa while the priest noticed him and started to head his way.

The tanned Servant offered a mysterious smile as he greeted, "Hello, I'm Father Shirou Kotomine; if you're here for a service, I'm afraid that I'm rather swamped giving people guidance." His gaze drifted over Trent's shoulder and to the doors and his smile shrank. "The situation outside has driven many believers to seek shelter here in fear of something akin to the Rapture outside."

Receiving confirmation that Carmilla had penetrated the depths of the Church, the blond clasped his hands in front of him as he inquired, "Well actually, I was familiar with another Kotomine, so I figured that I'd come and see what the one here was like. Good ol' Kirei, I wonder if he got to the 'torturing children in his basement' phase…"

"…My brother unfortunately took his own life rather recently," the priest said, his smile giving way to a frown, especially considering the circumstances.

Johan's face became completely blank at this. "...You have my condolences." Sure, they were here to kill Amakusa's Servant (and hold a bunch of innocent people hostage, apparently) but come on. There were lines.

Trent pursed his lips at that, his brows raising in surprise at that news. After a few moments, he apologized, "I'd not heard, my condolences. The crack about the basement was something of a…joke, told by those who knew him."

"I wasn't aware of any such joke, but I'll admit to having been estranged from him for quite some time. Still, was there anything else that I could help you with?" Amakusa asked as he considered just what he'd learned from Trent.

The Canuck considered it for a moment before reaching the hand with his Command Seals on the back of them out and taking one of Shirou's hands. Making sure he could see the Seals, he declared, "Mister Amakusa, I'd ask that you not do anything hasty, as if you do, then every single person in this church will become aware of Magecraft. This method is truly distasteful, but I've found that sometimes, you need to dirty your hands."

"You dare? In the house of the Lord?" Shirou quietly snarled, his face twisting in rage at just what was occurring before him. He didn't even care about his true name being revealed in favour of being outraged with what Trent was doing.

"Believe you me, I'm not happy about this either," Johan shot back. "But considering what you plan to do, good intentions or not, I think this a case of stones and glass houses."

Trent held up a finger as he remarked, "Mister Amakusa, I'm not letting you Lostbelt the timeline that I have to live in, but rest assured, we've no plans to let Darnic achieve「Heaven's Feel.」"

Johan nodded. "Honestly, neither of us really have a wish; we just want to give Bone Daddy his Bone Daughter back."

"We just want to reunite a skeleton family," the Canuck agreed with a solemn nod.

Amakusa wasn't taking it, and responded, "I'm trying to bring humanity salvation!"

"You really aren't," Trent replied with a shake of his head.

"Your intent may be salvation, but in truth your wish will spell naught but damnation," Johan added, leaning against a pew in Edgy Monologue Pose 3, arms folded and hair shading his eyes. "The Grail could wipe the desire for conflict and evil from humankind's mind, certainly. However!" He threw a hand out dramatically, palm up. "Sad though it may be, without conflict humanity will stagnate, and then the World will discard this timeline, consigning it to oblivion."

The incarnated Ruler scoffed, "There's no way that the Lord would do that, not with the miracle that he bestowed upon me." As he said that, his free hand curling into a fist.

"You say that, but there's a reason why Solomon isn't on the Throne anymore," Trent said blandly, trying to hold down the emotions surging within him. "Your Lord's plan certainly accounted for him getting yeeted out of existence."

"I've no idea what you mean; King Solomon more than earned his place on the Throne." Despite the duo's assertions, Amakusa remained strong in his convictions.

Johan sighed. "It seems that we're at an impasse, then. Your faith in your God dictates that what we say must be a lie, but our knowledge dictates that we must oppose you."

"In the end, it has to be this way," Trent said solemnly as he sent a mental message to Carmilla, ordering her to kill Semiramis as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Likewise, Johan directed Jekyll to find and cut down Shakespeare.

The blond shook his head as he eyed the priest before him, it would have been better if they could have stood together, but this was expected.

-x-x-x-

Assassin of Black strutted through the shadowy basement of the Church, keeping her eyes peeled for any Servants though she was able to sense most of the ones hiding beneath it. Eventually finding the door that she was looking for, she slipped inside it while taking care not to set off any of the barriers around it.

Within the room was a beautiful brunette woman in a long black dress, a furry ruff around her neck, elven ears peeking out of her cascade of hair, and a pair of golden nails through the palms of her hands. She was working on putting together some large structure, using magecraft to get it all put together to her liking.

Deducing that this was Assassin of Red based on what her Master had told her, she prepared her Noble Phantasm as she silently approached her target.

Carmilla understood that she was not a good person.

The existence that was the Heroic Spirit Carmilla was based upon the actions and consciousness of Elizabeth Bathory, affected by the stories and legends she spawned of the vampiress Carmilla. Rather than be dragged down by this, she understood that her actions were evil and that evil was the path she'd travelled down; and thus, she used it.

She was an evil person, an assassin who specialized in the killing of women.

Standing behind the Wise Queen of Assyria, she shucked off her Presence Concealment, and activated her Noble Phantasm.

Semiramis twisted around, eyes widening in surprise as she tried to respond to the sudden attack.

"Bleed out for me, so that I might use it for my bath, Queen of Assyria!" Carmilla roared as the giant Iron Maiden loomed up around the Assassin of Red, the spikes swinging in towards her at high speed. It was like a beautiful, sculpted guillotine, the woman at prayer looking truly contrite for her part in the execution. "Phantom Maiden!"

The Queen's face twisted in rage as the doors slammed shut, her eyes wide and filled with rage as she tried to fight against the heavy doors. The nails in her hands were forced out of them from the weight as she tried to keep the doors from closing on her, her arms and legs failing under the heavy strain. Her eyes darted to the blood on the ground before snapping back to her assailant, her mouth twisting into a vengeful grimace.

As the sides of the Iron Maiden finally slammed shut, blood squirted from the crevice and hit Carmilla's face. Rather than enjoy this, she winced and quickly brushed the sizzling liquid away from her flesh as it had somehow been converted into a supremely caustic substance.

Quickly reassuming her Presence Concealment and hiding her Noble Phantasm, the Assassin contacted her Master and appraised him of her success. As she prepared to sneak out of the Church's basement, Carmilla wondered if things were going as smooth for the Berserker they brought with them.

It's not like a Caster who was based on a playwright would be too much trouble, right?

-x-x-x-

William Shakespeare screamed as a scalpel carved through the door of his study. An emerald eye peered through the gash, wide and manic. "Heeeeeere's J—"

The menacing drawl was cut off as Shakespeare, shaken by the display, launched his book at the intruder. As the book slammed into the damaged door, the eye withdrew.

Caster of Red's reprieve was only momentary, however, as the door was blasted off its hinges by the intruder's kick.

The man strode into the room, a scalpel in each hand. An unhinged smile split an otherwise handsome face. "So, you are the dastard who would dare sink your filthy paws into dear little Fran's mind." Mad fury burned in the man's eyes, and Shakespeare realized that he was facing a Berserker.

"Pick a god and pray."