Disclaimer: I do not own Fate/Zero or Puella Magi Madoka Magica—they belong to TYPE-MOON and SHAFT, respectively.
Author's Note: Don't make me regret finally deciding to post this test run that's been sitting on my computer for 2 years…Please remember that this is a test to see if I can write fight scenes, and that BoMG is still a crackfic no matter how well I write it. My notes are significantly shorter now, but for clarity's sake, I'm going to keep the notes I originally had from 2 years ago:
…
…Huh. So it seems that in Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The Battle Pentagram, Homura can summon fuel tanker trucks as a part of her move/skill set. Her class as Rider in The Bullets of My Gun was purely on a shits and giggles basis via A.M.'s whim, but erm…I suppose the tanker truck gained just a fraction of importance now towards that decision…I think.
To those following this, I apologize for the significant delay in getting this sneak preview out, but…y'know, life happens, school kicks your ass, and interests divert elsewhere. If I was paid to do this, that would be a different story.
I'm going to assume that those reading this right now are also reading The Bullets of My Gun, as well. If you're keeping an eye on both, consider this as a weird sort of 'thank you' for taking the time to follow/favorite/acknowledge its existence. This is a sneak preview of Chapter 3: Taenia Memoriae (Ribbon of Memories), but please bear in mind that the scenes you'll read are not set in stone just yet. If anything, it's more like a chance to get feedback on how I'm writing the fight scenes so as to improve the final version. The other parts of the chapter have mostly been written up already—all that's left are the fighting parts and tweaking some other scenes.
Maybe.
Down to Zero We Go
Taenia Memoriae
(Ribbon of Memories)
SNEAK PREVIEW
Dun.
Dun.
DUUUUUUN…!
-x-x-x-
(song lyrics from either anime with relevance to the chapter as a whole to be determined later)
Fighting with golf clubs was a lot harder than she last remembered.
"Ha—!"
Granted, it had been a long time ago, but even so…
"Tch…!"
Akemi Homura fought to keep her balance as she deflected another strong blow from Lancer and dodged the next strike…only to repeat the same infuriating thing. She had strengthened the resilience of the golf clubs in her hands—much like Tomoe Mami had shown her in those earlier timelines, centuries ago—but she knew they would not last much longer against genuine magical weapons. Especially if the owner behind said weapons was physically much stronger than her.
Once it is the endgame…I am so going to kill Emiya Kiritsugu!
Homura cursed her Master (and herself for going along with it) under her breath as she saw the golf club in her left hand bend under the pressure exerted upon it. She was not a close-ranged fighter—why would that damned man believe, of all the options available to him, that this would be the best farce to play?!
Because he still wants to feel useful, that's what! The former time traveler grit her teeth, trying to push aside her anger for now and focus on sticking to 'the plan'.
"Come on…stop playing around and take this fight seriously," Lancer grumbled, frowning as he flicked his wrist and finally broke through the rapidly weakening reinforcements around her left golf club, cutting it in half with one of his spears. "You insult my honor by holding back."
He gripped his other spear tightly, and in a lightning-fast horizontal sweep, bent the golf club in her right hand to a 90 degree angle. The Servant arched his eyebrow as she sidestepped his follow-up, surprised that it hadn't broken outright, but Homura knew that it was on its very, very last legs. She called upon the feeling deep within her, like the faintest twitch of a finger…and her left hand closed around something that wasn't there before.
She blocked his next attack with the new golf club, which broke immediately due to the lack of additional reinforcement to it. Taking advantage of his wide-eyed surprise at yet another one of those stupid things, Homura slung the bent golf club around his other hand, rapidly coiled it together before its resilience could expire, and pushed off from the ground with her Servant-enabled strength, sending them both tumbling across the 'battlefield' and tearing at the ground.
"R—Rider!" she heard Irisviel call worriedly as she picked herself up, dusting off ruble from her battle garb.
"I'm fine, Master," she called out, still disappointed that the Einzbern couldn't be her actual Master. "I've taken worse tumbles than this."
After experiencing countless hits from Walpurgisnacht, that was like lazily floating down a river.
"You will serve as a distraction and nothing more while I kill their Masters behind the scenes. Do not reveal your true skills unless absolutely necessary," Kiritsugu's voice annoyingly rang in her head from their conversation back in Germany. "We only have so much ammunition and firearms at our disposal for now, and I'd rather you save it until we are at full capacity. After we regroup at the manor…do what you must."
I'll have to pay a visit to the nearest military base later, Homura mentally noted as she took out a metal baseball bat from her shield and strengthened its resilience with the faintest nudge of her magic. The centuries had taught her to be conservative and precise in its use—not like Tomoe Mami's preferred methods of flashy fighting and horribly unnecessary movement. The less dependent she was on Grief Seeds/Cubes, the better. Even in this Grail War…if her own supply began to run low, she could always draw upon her Master's.
I suppose he is useful in that regard, she begrudgingly admitted as Lancer easily broke the golf club coiled around his hand, tossing it aside and allowing him freedom to move his spear again. His expression was one of severe displeasure as he sharply twirled his spears about him, obviously as an alternative means to vent his frustration instead of spouting profanities against a girl. "And what…was that supposed to accomplish?"
"Absolutely nothing," the former time traveler deadpanned with a nonchalant flick of her long dark hair.
His shoulders drooped once he caught sight of the new weapon in her hand, though the scowl on his—admittedly—handsome face deepened. "You have a bat." It was a statement, not a question, and his frustration became more evident in the growl to his voice.
"That, I do."
"When will you stop mocking me?!" he exclaimed, seeming genuinely hurt that she wasn't taking this as seriously as he. "Enough with these distractions! If you truly are the Servant Rider, then call forth your steed! Bring out a sword! A polearm! A bow and arrow! Something!"
She threw a grenade at him.
Flash-bang, of course. She might have need of the frags for later.
Homura could hear Lancer cough as he tried to clear the smoke around him by twirling his spears. She used the cover to her advantage, darting up behind him and pulling a combat knife from her shield, strengthening the effectiveness of its blade to a suitable level—
Clang!
The second spear slid off the metal bat in her right hand, but the combat knife was now lodged into one of the warehouses' walls, courtesy of the first spear that had sent it spinning out of her hand. Lancer smirked at her in an infuriatingly smug way despite the small cut on his arm, and Homura quickly threw herself to the ground, ignoring the stab of pain in her left hand. His spear shaved off a few strands of her hair—which she wasn't too happy about—and she rolled away, coming up on her feet and attempting to brandish the metal bat in a threatening manner as the remains of the smoke dissipated into the night breeze.
It would be of no use; that, she knew—if he didn't then, he knew now that the metal bat served no purpose other than to annoy him and goad him into making mistakes.
Mistakes like the one he had almost made.
Lancer's smirk grew ever so slightly, his amber eyes twinkling with anticipation as well as mild disapproval at her sneak attack. "That is more like it…I do not approve of striking while my back is turned, but at least you are using proper weapons now," he said, shifting into his battle stance once more as the cut on his arm healed, courtesy of his hidden Master. "Perhaps your own wound will make you think twice about underestimating me and this war."
Wound…?
That's right…his spear had cut her when he sent the knife spinning away. After the adrenaline rush calmed down, only now did she realize the hot blood dripping from her left hand to the cracked ground beneath her feet. Homura hear Irisviel worriedly call out to her, but the Einzbern's voice sounded distant to her ears. She felt the rush of magic not of her own closing the gash, mending sinew and stitching her flesh back together…but still she continued to stare at her hand.
Her Soul Gem.
Lancer's spear had missed her Soul Gem by a mere centimeter.
For a split second, Homura was seized by an intense flare of terror at how close her battle could have ended, just like that, in this Grail War. If she had died here, if she had lost…that damned Grail would not release her—she would continue to be parted from Madoka until her eventual victory in a War elsewhere.
And for as long as she would have it…the purple gem would remain her Achilles Heel.
The feeling of terror quickly vanished as she donned her cold façade once more, thanking her faux Master in a dull voice that belied the gratitude a Servant should have after a healing. Lancer's smirk shifted to that of an anxious grin, as if sensing the change in her demeanor and glad for it…but wary of what it could possibly entail.
Does he really not know how close he came to killing me just now?
Homura couldn't help but chuckle wryly at that, earning a puzzled look from both her opponent and the Einzbern standing somewhere behind her. Another combat knife dropped into her left hand from within the limitless depths of her shield, hidden from Lancer's view as she shifted her body into what could be interpreted as a battle stance, bat held at the ready. A faint nudge at her magic enhanced the blade's edge rather than strengthening its resilience.
"Irisviel. I have had enough of this farce," the former time traveler stated flatly, her voice brooking no room for argument. "This man needs to die."
My reaction took too long. As a seasoned warrior, he must have made not of it, whether it be consciously or subconsciously…I cannot take any chances.
"Oh? I look forward to your true fighting style," Lancer said jovially, but with a faint edge to it. "Close-range simply does not suit you—that much is obvious."
And yet…I am not used to this sort of killing.
"Rider…we can't just—"
…I've adapted before, and I will do so again.
"His face infuriates me. Simple as that."
A crease of the brow; lips parting to speak; amber eyes narrowing—Homura took all of this in stride, hurling the combat knife towards his right flank and leaping forward, hurling the reinforced metal bat towards his left. Instinct drove the dark-haired man to repel both objects with his spears, leaving him not only confused as to why she would attack bare-handed, but also vulnerable enough should she choose to land a blow, for the smallest fraction of a second.
That was more than enough time.
The panels of her shield slid open and the gears clicked and whirred, plunging the world around her into various shades of gray as Time ground to an abrupt halt. She snatched her combat knife from where it hung suspended in midair, caught in the act of joining its brethren in the warehouse wall, and shakily landed on her feet, mere centimeters away from Lancer's frozen scowl.
If I were Kyouko, I would probably draw something on his face, Homura mused distantly as she stepped behind him, taking care to keep away from his spears. Fortunately for him, I'm not Kyouko.
She took this time to catch her breath, trying to calm her wild pulse before it could cause a mistake later—no matter how many centuries had passed, close-combat always made her uneasy. It didn't help that her opponent was well-acquainted in that field, more so than either Sakura Kyouko or Miki Sayaka could ever hope to achieve.
Moreover, I…
Swallowing hard, Homura raised the knife, hardening that small part of her that still protested all of the violence and bloodshed, and sped the blade straight towards his exposed neck—
Color resumed, blowing over the gray landscape on the weary sigh of whatever deity governed over Time.
What—?!
The scuff of her feet on the ground; her sudden disappearance—honed through countless battles, Lancer needed but a moment to take in all of these details. Her blade—once determined in its strike before slowing in shock—nipped at his neck as the dark-haired man instinctively threw himself to the side, hugging his spears close to his body as he rolled. He ended up in a crouching position, breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush as he stared at her in wide-eyed shock, gripping his spears so tightly, she could hear the straining of the purple fabric still covering them.
"You…Are you certain you are a Rider? You fight like an Assassin!" the Servant shouted, slowly standing back up even as beads of blood formed along the cut on his neck. "To disappear at a moment's notice, to attack from behind…You cannot be a Rider! I refuse to believe that!"
My Time Stop…it should have lasted longer than that. Or perhaps I took too much time with my respite? If so…I will not make the same mistake again.
"Believe it or not, it is the truth," Homura declared as a pipe bomb dropped into her open hand. "And I offer you another: that I will be the one to kill you."
Assume that the usual duration has been shortened by the damned Grail, and adjust the fraction of magic accordingly to meet it. I shouldn't allow my own supply to sustain it any further than that unless I augment it with Kiritsugu's, Homura theorized to herself as she tossed the bomb, her legs already jerking into motion and leaping to the side. Therefore…rely on him only when absolutely necessary.
She gripped another bomb in her hand as the first exploded at the ground in front of Lancer. She heard him cough as dust and debris kicked up into the air, shielding him from view. Homura tossed her current pipe bomb into the cloud, violet eyes searching for a vague silhouette of the Servant somewhere within as she moved at the sound of the explosion—staying in one spot would be fatal. The former time traveler managed to duck just as a spear burst from the cloud in a blind but vicious sweep, pulling another bomb from her shield.
She considered throwing the combat knife still clutched in her right hand, but the blade was her only defense in a close-combat situation. There were still a few katanas from ages ago, but she preferred not to use them unless absolutely necessary. Guns and short blades, she could work with, but she had less experience with longer blades in comparison—manipulating Miki Sayaka or Sakura Kyouko had usually been enough.
And there was no way Homura was going to use her time-shield as an actual shield.
…Not even if Madoka suddenly appeared in Her Goddess form and directly ordered her to do so.
Should that occur…forgive me, Madoka, she couldn't help but think as she hurled her latest pipe bomb into the cloud. There was yet another explosion, raining more dust and debris. In addition to the satisfying cry of pain from somewhere in there, Homura quickly darted into the chaos, having deemed that the larger cloud would provide sufficient cover from the eyes of any other Masters or Servants lurking about.
You would have to be a fool to believe that no one else would be watching.
Golf clubs? No matter how you look at this, she's definitely doing that to spite me, Kiritsugu grumbled inwardly as he silently crept along the warehouse rooftop, peering down his modified sniper's scope to search for any sign of Lancer's Master. Damn it, Rider…Can't you use something else?
There was a familiar 'ping' he knew all too well, and a moment later, there was a burst of light as the flash-bang grenade exploded, throwing dust and smoke into the air. Sweeping his scope over the area, Kiritsugu continued to shuffle along as the Servants 'battled' below. A scowl formed on his face as Rider's words reached his ears.
"Irisviel. I have had enough of this farce. This man needs to die."
Stick to the plan! I have your armaments—they don't need to know your true skills yet!
"Maiya," the Magus Killer curtly spoke into his headset as he silently darted across an open space to hide behind an air vent. "Have you located Lancer's Master yet?"
"Negative," his assistant's voice sounded in his ear as he caught sight of a faint shadow moving across the rooftop of a warehouse on the opposite side.
Kiritsugu cursed under his breath as explosions rocked the battlefield down below. Taking advantage of the deafening booms, he leapt over the gap to another rooftop, his trench coat billowing after him like liquid shadow as he clutched his sniper rifle close to his body to protect it. Lancer's Master should be distracted by the explosions, he thought as he landed shakily, resuming his crouched stance with the rifle resting snugly on his shoulder. As a traditional mage, they should soon feel annoyed at the modern weapons being used.
The dust drifted up to his position, and the Magus Killer narrowed his eyes to minimize any stinging, his lips twitching into a brief, but faint, anticipatory grin.
And once they lose their patience…I'll have them in my grasp.
Homura pulled out a handgun from the depths of her shield, violet eyes searching through the cloud of smoke and dust. Her heels accidentally dislodged some debris as she moved about, and a spear suddenly burst from seemingly out of nowhere in a blind thrust. More strands of her hair was cut as she managed to dodge, using every bit of her willpower to stay frozen in her position—body twisted to the side and all of her weight on her left foot as she held her breath, not making a single sound.
If he believes that I'm further along…
Sweat dripped down her brow as the spear slowly withdrew, having pierced only air. She was lucky that lancer had struck with the shorter spear. Unfortunately, the smoke was disappearing. Fast. She could already see his faint outline.
And if you can see your opponent, they definitely can see you.
Homura dodged another sweep and fired her gun at the figure amidst the smoke, more to intimidate than anything else. The shots were muffled by a silencer, but the flash still remained, briefly illuminating her face even as she ran around to make herself a harder target. She was out of bullets just as Lancer suddenly burst through the smoke, amber eyes flashing in anticipation as his spear zoomed towards her heart—
Click.
The tip of his spear managed to cut her arm as Homura sidestepped, bringing Time to a halt once more. Ignoring the blood seeping down her sleeve and counting the seconds under her breath, she exchanged the spent handgun for a Beretta from her shield. Taking careful aim and factoring in his troublesome agility for when Time resumed, she fired at his joints, intending to immobilize rather than outright kill. Once Lancer was down, his Master would likely grow frantic—perhaps they would even make some sort of mistake.
And when that happens, Emiya Kiritsugu or myself will end them, Homura thought as she positioned herself away from the range of his spears, gun and knife at the ready as she continued the count.
…13…
…14…
…15—
Color seeped back into her lifeless world and Homura leapt forward, aiming the blade at his exposed neck once more as the once-frozen bullets sped their way towards their targets. Unfortunately, Lancer's body jerked from the impact in a way she did not expect—having only fought pre-pubescent girls in her lifetime—causing her knife to miss his neck completely as he staggered backwards, bumping into her and sending them both tumbling to the ground.
Her knife flew out of her hand from the impact and Homura hurriedly sprang to her feet, trying to put some distance between them before Lancer could do anything else. At least now I have an estimate for the new duration…Far too short for my liking, either way.
A howl of pain reached her ears before Lancer's shorter spear suddenly burst through the smoke, speeding towards her. Taken utterly by surprise, she could not dodge as the weapon plunged through her abdomen, sending her staggering back and sinking to her knees with a pained cry of her own, dropping the gun. Impossible! Homura screamed in her head as she reached trembling hands to grab the spear impaled in her. He shouldn't…be able to move!
"Im…possible…" she grunted aloud, coughing up blood as she tried to pull.
"Rider! Rider, are you okay?!" Irisviel's worried voice drifted over to her from somewhere beyond the cloud, and suddenly the pieces connected.
Damn you…Emiya Kiritsugu…You good for nothing—!
She almost wished Miki Sayaka were here with her healing abilities.
Almost.
The smoke finally cleared with a rapid twirl of Lancer's other spear, revealing the man in question standing a few meters away with patches of blood on his person and bullet shells on the ground. His joints had already been healed, courtesy of his hidden Master. Breathing hard, he leaned on the spear for support, managing a faint grin in her direction. "You…You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"
Homura coldly glared at him as she continued to pull at the spear, trying to ignore the pain as it moved through her abdomen, tearing at her flesh.
"Rider!"
The former time traveler bit back a pained cry as she finally pulled the weapon free, accompanied by a spurt of blood. She barely had time to get a proper grasp on the spear before Lancer was suddenly right in front of her, grinning as he jabbed forward with the other spear in his hands. She threw herself to the side and grabbed her fallen gun as she rolled a bit, the spear in her grip sparking against its partner as she struggled to keep the tip away from her. Unfortunately, her physical strength was never the best and against a fellow Servant—with a much higher Strength, she might add—the spear slipped out of her fingers all too easily.
…But not before she noticed the golden gleam peeking through the purple strips of cloth wrapped around it, runes along the surface.
Spear-wielder.
The tip of Lancer's other spear stabbed into the ground an inch away from her head as she aimed her gun at him, awkwardly sprawled on her hand and knees.
Two spears, duel-wielding them effortlessly.
There was a strange feeling of foreign magic and her own reserves working in tandem to stitch her flesh and organs back together.
One of them shorter than the other and golden.
He was still grinning as he looked down at her, amber eyes excited at the direction the battle had taken.
A beauty mark below his right eye that attracts women.
Madoka's smiling face flashed through her mind as she scowled up at him, her senses on high alert for the first sign of movement. Without the smoke to provide cover from watchful eyes, she felt utterly exposed with the gun gripped tightly in her hand, finger resting anxiously on the trigger and the barrel gleaming beneath the light of the moon.
Give me a name…! He has a name, and it's right on the tip of my tongue…
Whoever saw her now would know that she was a marksman, for sure. Any confusion with the golf clubs was now tossed out the window, and the list of possible candidates for her identity was shortened.
Give it to me…you damned, glorified cup!
Homura felt something akin to a bored, dismissive wave coming from her connection as a Servant to the Holy Grail, and a name burst into her mind, filling in the last piece of a legend already on file, also courtesy of the aforementioned Grail. Her scowl never wavered, though she eyed the spear stabbed into the ground with newfound wariness before fixing her violet eyes back on his annoyingly handsome face.
"The First Knight of Fionna," Homura stated flatly, shifting her gun ever so slightly as her voice carried through the battlefield. "Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of the Love Spot."
Lancer's grin shifted to that of a smirk as he tilted his head slightly, his forelock bouncing with the motion. "There are few Heroic Spirits who utilize firearms in battle, much less ones in this current age or later." The Irishman's smirk grew as he chuckled, amber eyes glinting with curiosity. "Even fewer who are women, let alone young girls."
"I'm older than I look." Homura met his gaze evenly, allowing her barriers to drop as she spoke in a world-weary tone that belied her youthful appearance, lending credence to her claim.
Whatever he saw in those violet pools made him flinch, his smirk receding slightly.
"Lancer. Enough fooling around," a voice suddenly echoed over the wharf serving as their battleground. "She already knows your name—finish her with your Noble Phantasm."
Finish him, Kiritsugu! Homura snarled in her head, her grip tightening on the gun. If her Master didn't do anything soon, she planned on using her Time Stop to put some distance before sniping at the pipe bombs she would leave on Lancer's body. The former time traveler had already revealed enough, as is.
Lancer's smirk returned as his amber eyes gleamed with fierce resolve. "As you wish…my Master."
DRAFT — END
Author's Note: Politely-worded reviews would be appreciated, though I'm honestly tempted to just scrap this draft and rewrite everything since my writing is different from how it was 2 years ago. And I haven't actually touched this draft since 2 years ago, anyway...
Also bear in mind that this is not indicative of BoMG updating any time soon.
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…
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AUTHOR'S NOTE FROM 2 YEARS AGO: Probably disappointing, considering it's supposed to be a 'thank you'. (Also, heads up for a somewhat lengthy-ish A/N? My screen is a bit big, so I can't tell what would be considered 'lengthy', though in all honesty, I don't think it's that bad.)
Of course, revisions will definitely be made to this part once the rest of the chapter is added before and after it. Maybe even adding a scene somewhere in between. Prior to Berserker's arrival, I don't have any definite plans for Lancer vs. Homu, so any ideas or suggestions you guys may have would be great instead of this. Also, I might be using pipe bombs incorrectly. I'll probably change them all to flash-bang grenades later, but I'm pretty sure you guys get what I was trying to do. If you have any suggestions or corrections—since I know almost shit about that sort of modern weaponry—I encourage you to voice them.
I wouldn't trust myself completely with planning this fight, considering how—if I wasn't so paranoid of reactions—I'd just have Homura put an RPG-7 an inch away from Lancer's head during a Time Stop and blow his brains out. (I wonder, would you see the round exit the other side and then freeze because of the Time Stop? Or would you see his head start to explode but then freeze? Or would you not see anything at all and then once Time resumes, his head explodes?)
…But that's AKEMI's area, and curbstomps are boring anyway. As I tried to start portraying, Homura in this fic would have difficulty flat-out mercilessly killing someone like that. She's always only fought Witches—who don't look human—and if she was seriously intent on killing another Puella Magi, she'd definitely aim for the Soul Gem. There'd be no point in aiming for the brain or the heart. Killing a human opponent, especially a seasoned warrior with all of those battle instincts involved, would be harder for her to prepare for, I believe, simply because it's so different from the Lovecraftian monsters and prepubescent girls she's used to fighting.
And after 1,000 years' worth of repetitions where everything is usually mostly the same, I think change of any sort would still be a hurdle she has a hard time jumping over. Regarding battles or otherwise.
Once again, I will reiterate that this is only a part of Chapter 3, and will be revised in accordance with any feedback. You are all essentially my beta for this one.
…Anyway, review if you'd like, so long as they are kept civil, constructive, and are not flames. Flames will be used to keep my Dragonborn warm in the great outdoors while gazing up at those beautiful, beautiful auroras.
And for killing Draugr. Those things creep me out—I hate zombies and the like.
…
…No offense, Sayaka.