Kariya opened his eyes and watched his Servant staring down on him. There was an almost happy atmosphere emanating from the normally frothing Pyramid Head, the closest thing to a 'good mood' the Servant had ever shown; but Kariya could only muster anger. The dream that he had just woken from… the broken, lonely town drowned in mist and bad feelings. A fire had raged underneath the pavement. Heat had cracked the concrete ground and boiled the tar roads. A coal mine could burn for generations, maybe even forever if there was enough fuel.

"Touch Sakura," he hissed. "Touch her, and I'll kill you. Whatever you might be, I swear to God that I'll find a way to kill you if you hurt her." He felt protective love for the girl who was not his daughter. That perfect, innocent child who had been defiled in the worst ways… tortured constantly. It seemed that even in Kariya's dreams Sakura could not escape death.

The Crest Worms in his skin were strangely silent. Anger and discomfort had caused the worms to squirm painfully in the past, but even in his dream addled rage, they did not move; Kariya felt no pain from them.

"What the Hell was that even? I read the fucking book," Kariya's words were swords and they were meant to cut. He didn't swear often, but his dream had caused him quite a bit of panic. "It said that you're some kind hallucination that people have. Mass hysteria. Collective obsessional disorder. People all across the world have nightmares about you… so are you some kind of bogeyman? Why would you," as Kariya got to his feet his voice rose in volume to match, "why were you summoned? What do you want? This fucking Grail War, I summoned you because you fit me the best or something— I'm not good with that mystical bullshit— so why, why the silence? Don't you want to help me? Don't you want to win?"

Berserker said nothing but the silence shifted. Before this dream, Kariya hadn't been able to understand a single motion or action from his Servant, but now a strange form of communication had been forged between the two. It was the relationship between butcher and cow, executioner and damned. Pyramid Head held the knife and Kariya was the sentenced. There was understanding between the killer and the one who would die.

shame guilt punish death later you too, a stream of words babbled through Kariya's mind and he knew instantly that these were Berserker's thoughts being foisted into his mind. Unintelligent it may have been, the gist was clear, perhaps only because of the nightmare Kariya had experienced. Shame and guilt would be punished with death. Kariya's time would come…

"It can't just be me you're here to punish. You'd have killed me already. Who else?" Kariya asked, his anger was spent, and he felt tired, so tired, even though he had just woken up. It was nearly noon. He had slept for over twelve hours… "Why are you here, Pyramid Head?"

others

It had started because Rider had said something along the lines of 'experiencing the new world'; that the Servants, hundreds of years removed from their own lives, owed it to themselves and to the progress of the human race to try the new inventions and innovations that seemed to be a kind of magic in themselves. And Valentine had to admit, he was quite curious to drive an automobile or use a computer. Money wasn't a problem. Valentine simply accosted a man in the street, killed him, and hid the body away with D4C.

He didn't want to stoop so low as to ask his Master for spending money, as rich as Tokiomi might have been. It would be humiliating for the President of the United States to ask for an allowance as a child might from a parent...

Still, armed with a thin stack of bills and multiple credit cards under the name of 'Daisuke Samanco' Valentine made his way through the shopping district, picking up clothes in styles that he hadn't been around to see, sampling foods from countries that hadn't existed in 1890. It was a waste of time, but oddly satisfying. His trip to the cinema had been particularly fascinating, the moving photographs that were displayed on the screen had been in color! And somehow more incredible than that was the fact that the movie was in English. 'Forrest Gump', it had been titled. A heartwarming tale of a young soldier who experienced much of American history first hand… The scene in Washington D.C had moved Valentine greatly. The new monuments that had been erected, all those people, degenerate hippies they may have been, had come together in a brilliant moment of collective expression. It was as if the American spirit of protest and conscientiousness had been set aflame by a war that Valentine did not fully comprehend. He was happy and proud of his country, such a beautiful feeling… the purest of all loves.

So when Valentine and Saber caught sight of each other, the President felt no need to fight or hide. He was seated outdoors, behind the short wrought-iron fencing of a quaint cafe he had found. Around him were only a few bags. The bulk of his purchases, things he didn't feel like looking through at the moment, had been sent home with a Valentine from another dimension. He had traded his old outfit of pink overcoat and body suit for a grey bespoke suit from Brioni, with a complementary red tie. He looked stately, handsome even, according to the doe eyed girl who had taken his measurements back at the tailors.

"Saber."

"Archer."

Their tones were cool and tempered. Valentine did not forget that Saber had attempted to kill him just the night before, but in a place with so many witnesses, any sort of combat would be impossible without alerting the non-magicals to the War. Even Saber seemed to have forgone her armor for a plain black suit.

"Why don't the two of you join me?" Valentine stood and moved two seats more seat to the small table he occupied. It was a small gesture of good faith on his part, a subtle action that signalled that he had forgiven Saber for her attack on his person. "It is quickly growing dark, and a meal wouldn't go amiss by any of us."

"I don't trust you."

"Small courtesies, Arturia," Valentine used Saber's true name to try and unnerve her, "in this War we can only afford small courtesies. Trust that the food is not poisoned as I trust you not to strike me down; we all know that Saber outmatches Archer at close range."

The two women whispered to one another for a moment before drawing closer and coming into the cafe through a small gate in the wrought-iron fence. Saber looked none to pleased, but the other one was smiling.

"I gave you my name yesterday, and I already know yours, King of Knights. What then, should I call your companion?" Spy had given him the name of Saber's true Master, the Magus Killer, but not of the red eyed girl who seemed attached at the hip to the swordswoman.

"Irisviel von Einzbern," the woman introduced herself, "pleased to meet you." She extended a hand that Valentine took and shook, ignoring Saber's baleful gaze. "I can't say I know much about you, Mister Valentine. Could you tell me about yourself, or rather about the Steel Ball Run?"

Ah, so information was what they wanted… A rather amateurish attempt at information gathering, but an attempt nonetheless. Valentine decided to humor the woman, if only to keep up appearances. He was certain that no matter what he said or did, neither Irisviel or Arturia would be able to discover the secret of Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap. It had taken that genius horse jockey, Diego Brando, ages to figure it out, and the lizardman was in a class of his own.

But on the other hand, the woman seemed genuinely interested in that legendary horse race. Valentine knew from his readings that various organizations had tried to emulate the race or cast it as a yearly event, but each attempt at recapturing the glory of the original Steel Ball Run was met with failure. It was understandable, natural even for people to be drawn to the race, and Valentine saw no issue with telling a few stories from his past; he would of course, censor all references to the Corpse and to the existence of Stands…

"I think, that the latter topic is more suitable for a dinner conversation. My life was largely uneventful," Valentine gave a charming smile and signalled a waiter to come take their orders. "Here's a story then… One of the competitors in the race ran the whole length barefoot. Did you know that?"

Both women shared looks of disbelief before turning back to Valentine.

"But that's impossible! The Steel Ball Run was over six thousand kilometers! The competitors were on horseback, and they traveled upwards of fifty to sixty kilometers a day! A human being would have no chance in a race like that."

"And yet it happened. The competitor was only known as 'Sandman'. He was an Indian, a Native American, I believe is the term used today. His technique of running allowed him to be incredibly efficient with his energy, and even though he was slower than the horses, he was a man and therefore able to move through obstacles that the horses had to either circumvent or slog through. He even took first place in one of the stages."

Valentine's own memories of Sandman were murky, he hadn't paid much attention when hiring the Indian and Diego Brando to kill the Joestar and Zeppeli who had found some of the Corpse Parts, but he understood the basic premise of why the man was competing.

"He ran the race to save his tribe." It was an admirable goal. The Native American's had never been a part of America, instead they had their own little nations, mere hovels compared to the majesty of the United States, but Valentine had respected that Sandman fight for his counties continued survival. It was a form of patriotism, after all. "You could almost compare the Steel Ball Run to the Holy Grail War that we fight today." Valentine's smile grew wider as his enthusiastic listener bobbed her head up and down. "A grueling challenge with only one winner, and that winner would win fifty million United States Dollars… in today's terms that would be well over a trillion. Wouldn't that be enough to make any wish come true?"

"I suppose it would be. You might even be able to buy a country with that much," Irisviel snickered while looking at Saber. "Sorry, that might've been tasteless…"

"What do you mean by that?" Arturia asked, eyebrow quirked upwards.

The waiter brought several trays of food. A grilled rabbit with herb crusted french fries for Valentine, a sea urchin ceviche for Saber, and a swordfish meatloaf for Irisviel. The food was, for the most part enjoyable, if a bit strange. The three took a moment to sample their meals before Saber put down her fork and looked up from her plate to ask again: "What did you mean by 'buy a country' Irisviel? You can't actually buy a nation, can you?"

Irisviel looked at the floor with great interest and Valentine chuckled.

"You can. It's been done before, just a couple decades ago in fact."

The rabbits were delicious but difficult to eat, too many small bones that splintered with force was applied.

"The thought of that is offensive to me. A nation should have their sovereignty vested in a worthy leader, not the richest bidder."

"And yet Saxton Hale purchased the country of England. He's dead now of course, but—" A glass fell to the floor and shattered.

Saber seemed to be in shock. Her hands trembled as their gripped the table, ripping the cloth and bending the metal grating that the table consisted of. Her face was red and her breaths were coming fast and angry.

"What sort of insult is this? You would mock me like this, Valentine? You were a leader of your own country, don't tell me that you find this a laughable matter." Arturia looked toward Irisviel now. "Tell me it isn't true Iri. Tell me that someone didn't actually buy England…"

"Yeah… they sort of did…" Irisviel said awkwardly.

Saber let out a low moan of depression. How could England, her beloved country, simply be bought? She had given everything for her country. She had given up her emotions, her humanity, to protect the soft green hills of that emerald land. Battles where she had to order innocents killed to save the country. All that sacrifice and pain, all those quiet nights of self-hate and guilt that she couldn't share with anyone; for who could understand the pain of the King? Arturia had been the person on the altar everyday, bleeding and giving up herself to the forces who sought to destroy her kingdom, and now, the country that she had lived and died for, the country she had loved and honored, had been sold to some strange man with no more fuss than if the man had been buying a meal or snack…

"If it's any consolation, Saber, the man who bought England has long since passed."

"What's happened to England, Valentine? What happened after the man bought it?"

Valentine motioned the waiter over to take his plate away, he had no desire to eat anymore. For a moment he thought about lying to the girl to spare her feeling, but remembered that the blonde sitting across from him was a Servant. She was the legendary King Arthur, and he owed her the truth at least.

"During the Industrial Revolution, Britain saw itself transformed as the country built factories and mills to fuel their industries. Hale did the same thing; remember that he owned a company called Mann Co., one of the largest in the world. Most of the country I believe is now factory dedicated to building wares."

Saber cradled her head in her hands and Valentine heard a noise that might've been a sob. It truly was a sad thing, that one man had been able to buy a country. But even worse was how the man had done it. From what Valentine had read and heard from Spy, Saxton Hale had made the offer to the British Parliament to buy the country for a total of fifty trillion dollars. The transaction had only taken place because Parliament had put the question to the people in form of referendum, and Hale had promised every citizen a huge sum of money, and a share in Mann Co.. The referendum had been close, but in the end the citizenry had chosen to surrender their country to the business man.

"And the monarchy?" Arturia's voice was muffled under behind her hands.

"Moved to Canada, I believe." Irisviel added quietly.

Valentine paid the check and the three of them left the cafe, Irisviel with her arms around Saber's shoulders whispering soothing words.

"Thank you for the meal, Mister Valentine. I've never really been to a restaurant with someone other than Saber. The food was very good." Something about Irisviel, an abstract, mystical quality, perhaps the innocence, reminded Valentine of Lucy Steel.

"It was my pleasure."

As Valentine turned to leave, Saber's voice came calling after him.

"Valentine," she said, voice still shaky with embarrassment, "what's your goal here? How does allying yourself with Rider then treating me, your enemy, as a friend help you?"

His steps faltered for a moment as Valentine tried to think of an answer. Companionship? Was that why he had decided to invite Arturia and the Einzbern to dinner? He had been feeling quite magnanimous earlier; a result of his good mood, but there really was no reason to invite potential enemies to dine without an ulterior motive. Had he been getting too complacent recently? Valentine knew that even he wasn't immune from the effects of hubris; all men were susceptible. The lack of actual combat and enemies who could pose a real threat, that had caused Valentine to get careless. And that carelessness was what had allowed Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli to defeat him at the close of the Steel Ball Run. Valentine had, in his pride, refused to see them as legitimate threats; even Diego Brando had been seen as a minor nuisance until the train ride, and that had very nearly gotten Valentine killed.

And now here it was again. Pride rearing it's ugly head. Valentine did not see Saber to be a true threat. Even without knowing the full extent of the King of Knights' abilities as a Servant, he had immediately placed her lower than himself. But the past had proven that pride was Valentine's downfall…

"I will tell you what I told Rider." Valentine turned back around to face Irisviel and Arturia. "My goals are not directly tied to the Holy Grail, they can be accomplished otherwise. That is why I've allied myself with Iskander. Should he and I be the last Servants standing, we will forgo a battle and I will allow him to win, for his dream is only achievable through the Grail. The agreement is that should that come to pass, he will assist me in achieving my goal. That is the extent of our alliance. There is no subservience or deference involved. Iskander and I have come to the mutual understanding that our goals can both be met through honorable cooperation."

Archer struck a pose, one hand brushing back his long, golden hair and the other pointing straight forward at Saber. A corona of light seemed to emanate from him, shades of red, white, and blue in ever shifting grandeur.

"Can you sincerely say that you alone will be enough to defeat the other Servants? I caught a bit of the battle between that geometric nightmare, Berserker, and yourself when Rider and I arrived on that beach. No single Servant can defeat that brute. And speaking of the other Servants! Lancer, I don't know enough of him to make a judgement, but the name of Diarmuid Ua Duibhne should strike at least some worry in your heart; he is a fearsome warrior. Caster, who I think I am correct in saying, has managed to hide himself from the rest of us, even now when the rest of us have been revealed. What could a spellcaster worthy of being summoned into our War be planning with all that spare time and secrecy? As for Rider and myself, you have proven that I cannot be killed by normal methods. Rider was quite possibly the greatest warrior ever to live. Only Assassin is defeated—"

Valentine seemed to be ready to monologue further when Saber's cough caught him off guard. Of course Assassin, or Spy, as Valentine knew him, was not actually removed from the War, but Saber must have gotten the news by now, no matter how fake it was.

"Assassin has not been defeated, Archer." Saber said seriously. "An ally of mine was assaulted by the man just the other night. Don't fall for his treacherous ways." The warning was thoughtful, but unneeded. The Frenchman was, after all, Valentine's ally in the war, and he had been the one to help fake Spy's death.

"Well there you have it. Assassin is a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded by riddles, and sprinkled with mystery. He is the one who can strike where we are most vulnerable: our Masters and our human allies." Valentine gave a pointed look at Irisviel who shuddered at the thought of the shadowy Spy. "The whole purpose of a Servant is that each one of us can defeat one another, be it through honorable combat, careful alliance making, or through subterfuge. You being rated higher in combat does not necessarily mean that you will be able to defeat even Caster, who is seen as the weakest."

Arturia seemed to have taken his words to heart. Her earlier displeasure over hearing that England had been purchased had faded and her face was brighter and colder.

"I understand." She seemed somber in a way, and although Valentine had originally scoffed at her due to her gender and stature; she had a certain presence that forced his respect. She was no child to be ignored or shafted aside, as Valentine had presumed. That somber, solemn expression that invoked a strange sort of awe, even in Valentine's normally unflinching heart of hearts. Truly, Arturia lived up to her moniker as King of Knights.

"I refused you the first time, Archer. But now I will extend my own invitation. Will you ally yourself with me for the duration of this War? I will not ask for you to sever ties with Rider, for that would besmirch your honor, but until a time perhaps when you and I and Rider are the only Servants remaining… we could be allies."

Irisviel looked as if she was about to speak but her expression turned to a tentative smile. Kiritsugu would probably disapprove of Saber going out and making alliances on her own accord, but the red eyed homunculus thought it was prudent. What Archer had said about the other Servants was correct. Even if Saber was considered the strongest Servant class, there was no telling what the others were capable of. Kiritsugu had only seen the battle between Saber and Lancer and then Saber and Berserker, from a distance. Loathe as Irisviel was to criticize her husband, Kiritsugu really couldn't have understood what it was like to walk the same earth as the legendary Servants until he was present for a battle in person. Only then would he understand the risk instead of simply knowing of it.

"I must warn you that my Master is unaware of my dealings with the other Servants. For now he has simply ordered me to stay removed from combat. As I don't think it would be wise to alert him of our alliance, assume that he will see you as an enemy." Valentine said. "I will assume that Lady Einzbern gives her tacit permission as she has made no attempts to stop our negotiation, but what of your Master, Saber?"

Arturia shook her head. "I'm afraid he and I don't see eye to eye on matters such as these. He may be my Master, but my loyalty is to Irisviel. I defer to her and only her," she gave a puzzled stare toward Valentine, how had he known that Irisviel wasn't her Master? They hadn't said anything of the sort, and surely Valentine couldn't have known of Kiritsugu's involvement in the War. The only Servant to have seen her true Master was Assassin, and Valentine revealed that he didn't know of Assassin's continued existence before being corrected… it was strange, but Saber choose not to pursue that line of thought any further.

"Will it be okay if we keep this from Kiritsugu, Irisviel?"

The homunculus nodded, sending her white fur ushanka bobbing up and down.

"I'm sure things will work out for the best. I personally think it's good to have allies in the War."

With Irisviel's consent, the newly bound trio exchanged their goodbyes and went their separate ways into the creeping evening.

Dusk now and Grenouille's hands were covered in fragrant grease. Using a flat bladed knife and his hand, Caster scooped fistfuls of animal fat into a small copper pot that sat on an open fire. He was quite happy with his new laboratory for his ability as a Servant allowed him to create all sorts of necessary equipments with his magic alone. Shelves stocked to the ceiling, full of small glass containers holding essential oils: the souls of flower petals and the shavings of animals. He had been working frantically ever since he had come back from his ill fated expedition where he had been foiled by the scentless girl. Next to him was the Spine he had found, sitting on the table. Caster did not quite know what to do with the exceptional artifact, but somehow having it nearby made him feel stronger, more capable; even his sense of smell, impossibly accurate as it already was, felt enhanced by the Spine.

Uryuu had found this beach house on a secluded stretch of sand overlooking the ocean, far, far removed from the main city. It was a hassle for Caster to constantly travel to and from the city, especially while hauling the bodies of his victims to be made into perfume; but he figured that with the equipment he was able to conjure with his magic, bringing the bodies to the house would yield much more product.

The house was large and spacious, all the furnishings modern, and there were no neighbors. Uryuu had disposed of the owners, a vacationing couple from the United States, and was outside at the moment burying the remains deep in the sand; the house was theirs now. Uryuu and Grenouille, partners in crime, living a life of luxury overlooking the grey early-autumn waves of the ocean. It was quite cold, especially so close to the waterfront. The wind blew clouds of gritty sand and salt spray that at night grew so loud it sounded as if monsters were banging on the shutters and clawing at the windows.

The lard from the first girl was bubbling now, slow glutinous noises were sounding as the mixture turned frothy and the fat melted into soup. Every now and then Grenouille took a wooden spoon and skimmed the top layer of the boiling fat. As it smoked and the moisture evaporated, it would concentrate and Caster would then be able to begin the long, arduous process of straining, reboiling, restraining, and reboiling again to purify the oil into essence absolue. That was the main issue with Grenouille's old method of stealing the scent from his victims; it took too long. A full twelve to twenty hours was required to yield a product worthy of his Bottled Love, longer depending how much fat was used. The easiest way would be to bring the bodies here, to the beach house. Here Grenouille could take the bodies and stuff them into huge oaken casks filled with clean animal fat. With a heavy weight applied to the lid, the natural force of gravity would eventually squeeze out the purest form of scent out of the tapped bottom of the cask. It was a new method of extracting scent that Grenouille had thought of all on his own, and he couldn't wait to try it. All that he needed was a body now…

The front door opened and closed. And by the scent that just entered, Grenouille knew it to be Uryuu. In fact, for nearly ten kilometers in all directions, Grenouille could sense that he and his Master were the only human beings. The orange haired murderer walked into the kitchen-turned-perfumery with a grin on his face and pulled off a pair of elbow length rubber gloves, stained red and black by thick clots of blood, and threw them into the garbage can.

"I finished burying everything like you wanted, Caster. What're you up to now?" Uryuu hunched over Grenouille's shoulder trying to get a look at what the Servant was working at. "More perfumes? What for?"

"I don't know. These are just the normal perfumes so that people don't pay attention to you. It's just…" Grenouille trailed off to stare at the Spine that rested next to him. Every heart beat seemed to fill his body with power and purpose. "I feel good today. And," he quickly handed his Master a ladle, "I have something you can help with. Just skim the top of the pot every so often, all the trailings you can put in the garbage."

Uryuu looked dismayed at having been given such a pedestrian task, but merely frowned and sat next to his Servant. "Uh, so this is the fat we got from the girl earlier? You're going to make perfume out of this?"

"Not until we have twenty-four more. I screwed up yesterday bringing home a girl, so I'll probably go out again tonight." He finished the perfume for concealment and capped the glass flacon and swirled the mixture lightly. "This is for you, Master. Use it when you need to." Grenouille made to pass the perfume over to Uryuu but the latter simply looked confused.

"You're not holding anything."

Now Caster was the one to be confused. It was right there! A glass flacon of perfume, light brown and glinting with light!

"I most definitely am holding something." To prove it, Grenouille shook the bottle to hear the contents audibly gurgling about. "Can't you hear that? It is literally in my hand." The two were staring at each other now, both genuinely confused.

"You okay?" Uryuu reached over and made to grab the flacon, but to Grenouille's surprise, his Master's hand simply went through the space that the flacon and perfume was occupying as if it were empty. "See? Nothing there. You sure you're okay? You might be a demon, but I'm sure it isn't normal for demons to be seeing stuff…"

And yet, in Grenouille's trembling hand, the perfume was there in clear sight. He could touch it and unstopper the cap, take great heaving whiffs of the stuff. Even if his eyes had betrayed him, Grenouille knew that his nose would not. The perfume existed. It smelled just as he wanted it to have smelled, utterly unchanged from the original formulation that he and Uryuu had used to sneak into buildings. Then why couldn't the other man see or touch or even hear it?

His gaze turned to the Spine…

Slightly frightened and wholly excited, Caster uncorked the flacon and brought it near a cloth where he had wiped his hands earlier.

"Uryuu, make sure you're watching this."

"Okay…"

Grenouille tipped the flacon over the cloth and watched as a small drop of amber liquid tumbled out the neck of the bottle, falling, falling, falling until it finally rested on the oil slicked cloth. From his perspective nothing had changed, but for Uryuu…

"You! You just made that thing disappear!" Grenouille's Master stood up abruptly and pointed shakily at the cloth. "It's gone now! That dirty rag was just there!" There it was. There was no faking that surprise, something had changed, and Grenouille knew just what caused it.

It was the Spine; it had to be the Spine. There was no other explanation, that column of bone he found had unlocked something… a latent power that Grenouille had unknowingly hid all his life, something even greater than his sense of smell. His perfume had evolved into a realm beyond that of scent. This was the power over the mechanism by which people perceived reality. Not only was the flacon and cloth invisible, but intangible as well. Uryuu, try as he might, would never be able to touch the dirty cloth, even as it was perfectly normal in Grenouille's perspective. A paradox of existence caused by a drop of perfume. A sort of Schrodinger's Cloth. It both existed and did not exist at the same time.

A sudden rush of blood to his head caused him to reel for a moment. A hefty load of adrenaline born from excitement had ridden the highway of blood vessel straight to brain and heart and lung, causing him to swoon and heave and shake all at once. Euphoria on such a scale that he could only compare it to catching scent of the plum cutting girl, or completing his Bottled Love and for a timeless moment standing as God of the world.

"Make sure that fat doesn't burn, Uryuu." Grenouille composed himself and turned back to his ingredients, mind racing with childish excitement to see what he could make next. If a perfume for inconspicuousness could cause a rag to disappear from a person's perception, then what else could Grenouille do with this new found power?

He stroked the Spine lightly and gave a sincere smile. He would go out that night and test the limits of his new capabilities.

AN: If you're at all familiar with TF2, the character Saxton Hale literally bought England. Always wanted to see how Saber would deal with that fact.

Expanding on Valentine's motivations and why he's so willing to make nice with the other Servant. His ultimate goal is the Holy Corpse, he doesn't care about the Grail so long as he can collect his Corpse Parts. Of course winning the War means he can just wish for the Corpse Parts to be given to him, but Valentine has shown way more foresight than that. He's thinking about the long term, allying with Iskander and Arturia makes the War easier on him, and he also gets allies after the War.

Grenouille probably seems a bit out of character if you're familiar with Perfume, but I think he and Uryuu have a lot in common seeing as they are both serial killers. This would be the first time that Caster is actually making a friend so I think his personality would be a lot more sociable at least around Uryuu.

In Jojo's Bizarre Adventures it was shown that coming in contact with a Corpse Part can potentially unlock a person's Stand. Since Grenouille found the Spine, his Stand was unlocked and will be explained here. Think of it as another Noble Phantasm that Grenouille has.

[That Smell] (From the Lynyrd Skynyrd song 'That Smell')

Destructive Power: E

Speed: E

Range: B

Durability: E

Precision: D

Developmental potential: A

That Smell is a Stand that is bound to Grenouille's body. Its power lies in the fact that all of Grenouille's perfumes are greatly enhanced, they smell so realistic that the mind perceives it as reality. The key part to That Smell is the alteration of reality. One of Grenouille's first perfumes made from a living organism was a puppy he had killed. If he were to pour that perfume on someone, That Smell would turn the victim into a puppy. The victim becomes so convinced that they are a dog because of the smell of the perfume, and for so long as the smell of the perfume is there, That Smell will turn the victim into a dog, and they will believe that they are a dog.

Grenouille is immune to his own stand because his nose cannot be fooled.

Character page for Pyramid Head

Pyramid Head

Class: Berserker

Master: Kariya Matou

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Height: 240 cm

Weight: 140 kg

STR: A (+)

CON: A (+)

AGI: A (+)

MGI: C

LCK: C

Noble Phantasm: EX

Biography

Pyramid Head has been around for as long as human beings have done wrong. He is a manifestation of the emotion of guilt, more specifically he comes to punish people who feel guilty, but haven't been punished for their crimes. The guilty secretly want to be punished because they know they've done wrong. Their emotions of guilt bring Pyramid Head to them, and the guilty are punished accordingly.

It could be more accurately said that Pyramid Head would be more along the lines of Avenger rather than Berserker because he exists to punish wrongdoers.

Tactics

Pyramid Head is only motivated on getting revenge and punishing those who feel guilty. He can tank any injury and will eventually surpass any obstacle to get his revenge. His tactics consist of chase and kill.

Class Skills

Mad Enhancement: A

Pyramid Head has never shown much foresight or ability to think, so he is largely unchanged by Mad Enhancement. Nevertheless, his parameters are enhanced.

Independent Action: A

For the most part, Pyramid Head feeds off of human emotion rather than mana. This is a great benefit for Kariya as Pyramid Head won't agitate the Crest Worms whenever he fights. At the same time, Pyramid Head can only be ordered by the Command Spell so is a very unpredictable Servant.

Personal

Merciless: A

Pyramid Head cannot be reasoned with or convinced to show mercy. He will always be dedicated to his task of killing the guilty no matter what. Even high level magic or persuasion can't dissuade him from his task.

Indefatigable: A

Pyramid Head feels no pain from any injury and really doesn't care about what happens to himself. As a Servant, all his injuries will eventually heal, but Pyramid Head can work through any injury and fight to full capacity no matter what.

Noble Phantasm

The Town of Silent Hill: EX

A twisted Reality Marble under Pyramid Head's control. After multiple encounters with the same enemy, Pyramid Head can bring in his opponent to the Town of Silent Hill where other Noble Phantasms and magic cannot be used. Here Pyramid Head's opponent must face their personal demons and defeat Pyramid Head to get free. Time in The Town of Silent Hill does not pass as it does in the actual world, a second in the real world could be days in the Town.

Pyramid Head can only be defeated while in this world.