THG: 1.5 The Holy Grill (Patreon)
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The Holy Grill 1.5
John Soprano
'So by "clean house," you meant you'd… have a merry chat with the bank robbers?' Shirou asked. If raw, soul-deep exasperation was a flavor, it'd taste saltier than the Dead Sea.
It was delicious.
'Yes, Shirou. I'm going to have a nice, earnest chat with some troubled young women.'
'Are you going to offer them your meat candy too?'
'Your sarcasm is noted and unappreciated.'
'Neither is you running around interrupting bank robberies so you could chat with the robbers.'
I let out an audible sigh. 'I can't wait until I get you your own body.'
'The feeling's mutual.'
The Heaven's Feel was, at its core, soul manipulation. Picking him out of my soul and into a vessel wasn't out of the question. Granted, of course, that the vessel be appropriate for a soul of Shirou's quality.
That would give us what we both wanted: I'd get to run my smokehouse in peace. Shirou could be an exemplary hero in a world full of douchebags. But could I really just create an entire body? One that would function independent of an absurd prana input on my part?
I didn't know. It'd be easier to get Amy to sculpt one for me… probably…
'God damn it, Amy Dallon,' I swore. How was it that I was seriously comparing figuring out how to properly operate a True Magic with un-fucking the angst of a seventeen year old girl? With genuine uncertainty about which would be more difficult?
'Surely it can't be that bad,' Shirou said gently. 'She's just a girl…'
'Think of Illyasviel. Got it? Now imagine she wants your dick. And then imagine she has the power to barf up zombie plagues and apocalyptic biological horrors at will if she ever has a breakdown. Now stick her in the hospital and tell her that she's a morally bankrupt monster whose only redeeming value to society is using her powers to heal. Which, might I add, she finds emotionally and mentally draining and unfulfilling. Now remember that hospital workers have some of the highest rate of burnout of any profession.'
'That's… You're exaggerating…'
'I'm not. I wish I was, but I'm not. I told you; Earth-Bet is the kind of shithole not even Kirei would find funny.'
'Then we should help her,' he said, his goody two-shoes, shonen hero instincts kicking in.
I sighed tiredly as I snuck through the back of the bank, Carnwennan in hand. 'Shirou, helping her won't add her to your harem. You can't even have a harem right now.'
'That's not why I helped people!'
'Maybe not, but the outcome speaks for itself.'
'It's really not what you think it is. Besides, like you said, helping her helps us, right?'
'Relax already, man. I've come this far, haven't I?'
I stepped out into the bank lobby. It was quite the scene, a real Mexican standoff. Taylor, and wow was her costume intimidating, held Amy at knifepoint with an arm around her throat from the back. It was a supremely idiotic thing to do, not only because it escalated the situation in the moment, but because Taylor still very much wanted to be a hero. Poisoning all future interactions with New Wave for this was… short-sighted in the extreme.
Vicky hovered overhead, glaring murder at the "hero" in self-imposed deep cover. She twitched with indecision, desperate to save her sister but unwilling to put her speed to the test against Taylor's knife. She didn't know Taylor was, technically, a friend here.
The only one who might, I wasn't quite sure when she figured it out, leaned against the front desk. For her part, Lisa looked utterly nonchalant, as if time was still on her side.
"That's where you're wrong, Glory Hole," she said as I walked in. "I've got the greatest weapon of all… Information."
I dismissed Carnwennan then. King Arthur's dagger, used to slay the Black Hag, was the weakest of all her Noble Phantasms. But it was also arguably the most practical in day-to-day use. It cloaked the wearer in shadow, not dissimilar to an Assassin's Presence Concealment, granting the King of Knights far more subtlety than most would expect of her.
Lisa flinched as, to her senses, I appeared out of nowhere. I didn't know if her power would be able to sense me in the future, now that it knew I could do that, but the initiative was mine.
"Enough, Sarah," I barked as I strolled across the lobby. The other three girls whirled to face me, only now realizing they weren't alone. "You're going to keep your trap shut and think about your actions for a change."
"I-You're Kingmaker," she began. Then her face morphed into a scowl as what I said fully registered. "You can't-The unwritten rules-"
"Are for people who give a damn. I don't. More importantly, this really isn't what you want."
"You don't know that. You don't know anything."
"Don't I? I don't know about 'the most powerful weapon of all,' but you're right. Information certainly is powerful," I said. I flipped a random dagger into the air, only for it to vanish into motes of light. When it came down, it was replaced by the jagged edge of Rule Breaker. And then Carnwennan. And again another Noble Phantasm. Lisa's eyes tracked it, her power trying to get a grasp on the prana being used. "So are distraction and misdirection, though I suppose you might argue they're two applications of the same."
"Stop that. I know what you're doing."
"Distraction and misdirection keep people focused. Invested. Until they dig deeper than they'd ever go naturally. It's why casinos have free drinks, why clubs have pretty bartenders. It's good to have someone to tell you to stop, isn't it? Everyone needs to be pulled back from the edge at some point."
"What? You're a hero, right? Help us!" Vicky interjected.
I shrugged carelessly. "I'm not a hero. I'm not here to catch them. In fact, I'd say I've done my share of heroics for the day already. Little Dinah's safe by the way. Congratulations on doing nothing."
"What are you talking about?"
"Distraction," Lisa said, putting the pieces together, a step too late.
"Coil," I said with a nod. My dagger turned into Diarmuid's shortspear, dancing across my hand like the baton of a marching band conductor. And still, even knowing what was happening, Lisa's eyes followed it with laser-like focus. Her power had always been difficult to control. Presented with the sheer mystery that was a crystalized legend, she couldn't help but fixate. "He's your boss, though only one of you came in here knowing that already. He tried to have the mayor's niece kidnapped while he arranged for the heroes to be occupied here."
"I-Then this was-" A dozen emotions flew across Vicky's face. Truth be told, this information changed nothing in the moment. Amy was being held hostage. Even if Dinah was being burned alive, Vicky wouldn't leave.
"A distraction. Sarah's not immune to it either. Stop talking, Sarah. Now's the time to take a step back. Don't tell Amy what you were going to say. Walk away."
"You don't know that. You can't know that," she growled.
"Mind reading doesn't exist? That's not what you told them, but I suppose it doesn't matter. You allowed the moment to draw you in. You're right. Information is powerful. You could break Amy with the truth, right here and now. Words have power, yours especially. But then again, I have to wonder: Is that what happened to Reggie?"
A gunshot pierced the air, followed by the sound of two clinking noises, the halves of the bullet falling to the floor. The confident grin she'd forced on her face was gone now, replaced by trembling hands and a hateful glare. "Don't say his name, you bastard! You-"
"Information is powerful, isn't it? I know, Sarah." Another bullet. Four more. Followed by a cascade of clinking raindrops. "I'm not saying this to hurt you, believe it or not. I'm saying this because you promised to be a certain kind of woman, one Reggie would be proud of."
"Shut up!"
"One who would never ignore someone like Reggie again."
"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"
"Someone who wouldn't bully a girl to her breaking point," I said. This, for Taylor's sake. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she froze, paralyzed. "Isn't that what you were about to do? And for what? So you could feel like the smartest person in the room?"
"Shut up! I'll kill you! I'll find out everything about you and destroy you!"
I looked her in the eyes and shook my head. "He'd be so disappointed in you."
She kept squeezing the trigger until there was nothing left. It was as though the magazine had drained her vitality. When it clicked empty, she too slumped to the ground, knees hitting the marble of the bank lobby.
Her shoulders trembled as she quietly sobbed. This wasn't right, playing on a girl's trigger. Triggers were the taboo thing to mention around capes. But I was never very good with people. I couldn't think of any other way to make her understand, to remind her to be better.
"You would have regretted breaking Amy," I said quietly. And she would have, albeit much, much later. After Leviathan. After the Slaughterhouse.
Lisa Wilbourn wasn't a bad person. She was an unexpectedly good leader. She could be empathetic and kind. She would eventually become a dear friend to Taylor and a mentor to both Aisha and Aiden. I couldn't rightly call her a good person, but by the end of the story, she was at least a principled one. Perhaps she'd always been, or perhaps Taylor's convictions had rubbed off on her.
It didn't matter. She wasn't that person right now. Right now, she was a brat hurling words like daggers without a care for just how fragile her victims could be. This one moment, a single station of canon, did not define her. As much of a bitch as she could be, she could also be so much more.
"Just… Just arrest me," she whispered.
"Nope. I told you. I've filled my heroic quota for the day. Which means you and Taylor, yes, I know you too, can go run off and do whatever the hell you want without Coil looming over your heads."
"You… You killed Coil?"
"No! What kind of person would I be if I just killed every idiot that made my life inconvenient? Trust me, the city wouldn't have a housing problem then. He's still in his basement actually."
"Then he'll see you coming," she said. She sounded so utterly convinced of it. "You should have killed him when you got the chance. You fucked up by coming here first."
"He would if he could," I laughed. I really had no idea. Shards didn't do well when it came to quantifying metaphysical data, which I assumed included prana. How each individual Shard's power would interact with the Heaven's Feel was up in the air, but my money was on "not well." "But that doesn't mean I have no options."
I pulled out my phone and logged into PHO. On it was a draft I'd saved weeks ago, practically since I found out I was in Worm. My finger hovered over the "create thread" button, but froze when a gaping hole opened up in the air.
My option. The ultimate "fuck you" button: Cauldron.
Out walked Fortuna, the lady of hats herself. She was every bit as put together as one would expect of Cauldron's foremost enforcer.
Faster than anyone but I could react, she fired off a single bullet, aimed directly at my phone. Then, when I cut that out of the air, her expression furrowed in annoyance before she put the gun away. "You-You weren't going to post that."
I shrugged nonchalantly. "I was. And then decided against it the moment you showed up. I assume this is the Path to preserving your secrets?"
"Yes. You are the first to use it as a way to summon me."
"I figured. No one else would have the balls even if they knew how your power worked."
"What do you want?"
I pulled out a folded index card, one with a very specific piece of information she desperately craved. "I want you to run a few Paths for me. First, the Path to restoring Eidolon to his prime."
"Unknown. He is a blindspot."
"And if I told you that I knew how?"
"Then I would run a Path to model human behavio-Give. Now."
"Sure, but you need to make Thomas Calvert suffer. No. That's not enough. You need to make him give back to society in a purely altruistic way, at least tenfold the value he has taken with his many crimes. Can you Path that?"
"He owes us. He will not defy me. Done."
"And he'll be out of the city?"
"Yes."
"And he'll be thoroughly, soul-crushingly dissatisfied with his newfound altruism?"
"You know this. Give."
I flicked the card over. She snatched it out of the air with the grace of a heron. "Fine. A pleasure doing business with you, Fortuna."
"How?"
"How indeed. Stop by the Holy Grill in a bit. I took down a few of the wards so you should be able to reach it just fine. We'll have a proper chat there. For now, I'm not done lecturing these girls."
Fortuna looked at me, then at the four girls, before nodding curtly. She left right away, closing the Door behind her.
Lisa stared at me, then at where the Door had been. Her brain was firing on all cylinders. Whatever migraine might have been building went fully ignored in favor of trying to figure out the sheer fuckery that had just taken place here.
I almost felt bad. She was doomed for disappointment.
"I… You… You broke the unwritten rules," she muttered.
"I did. Coil is a man by the name of Thomas Calvert," I said with a nod.
"You dealt with him. Just like that."
"Yup. Like you said, information is a very powerful tool. And knowing the right person is indeed a type of information," I said, smiling down at her with a smug, insufferable grin. No lie, it felt good, out-smugging Lisa. Fanon had truly corrupted me. "I draw the line at kidnapping a tween girl, locking her in his basement, then drugging her with a tailor-made cocktail to induce addiction and dependence on him. Or, you know, trying to. I really was happy to leave him be until he tried."
"What now?" Taylor whispered. "You…"
"Ah, right, your entire mission is worthless now. Sorry, not sorry. Now? Now you go be a hero. Or become a beekeeper. Or partner with that Parian girl to open a boutique that specializes in bespoke, silk suits. I don't know, Taylor. It's your life; find something that satisfies you."
"Oh, so Parian gets to keep her cape name?" Lisa muttered bitterly.
"She's not a pissy little brat," I shot back.
"Wait. Hold up. Why would we let them go now?" Vicky demanded.
"Because I say so? No? Ugh, fine…" I sighed and walked over to a vending machine. Crocea Mors, the golden sword of Gaius Julius Caesar, flashed out, cutting a perfectly square window for me to extract a can of coke. "Story time! Bug girl over there is named Taylor. She's the one who took down Lung, with a bit of help from Rachel outside."
"What? Armsmaster did-"
"He didn't. Now shut your yap and don't interrupt. Anyway, Taylor chewed his dick off. Literally. Yeah, she's done more hardcore shit on her first night out than you have in your entire career as a hero, Vicky."
"That's not true."
"Keep inhaling that copium. Anyway, being a new cape, she was told by Armsmaster to let him take the credit so as to protect her from the ABB's retribution. Idiotic, but whatever. Long story short, she decided she would join the Undersiders in deep cover to try to uncover their secret boss, which is kind of pointless now."
"Wait, you're a hero?" Vicky yelled, whirling on Taylor. "Let go of my sister!"
Taylor skipped back like Amy was made of lava. She truly hadn't realized she still had Amy at knifepoint. "I wasn't going to cut her!"
"You put black widows on hostages!"
"They're perfectly safe!"
"What part of 'black widows on hostages' sounds safe to you, you crazy bitch!" Vicky howled. Her aura was getting a bit out of control so I chucked a copy of Rule Breaker at her. "Ow! Why did you do-You hurt me…"
I nodded. "Because your aura's annoying. Tone it down. And yes, I hurt you. Really, the Undersiders aren't that bad. Brian? Grue, by the way, is out there fighting because he wants to keep his sister safe. Tell me Victoria, what wouldn't you do for Amy?"
"Nothing."
"The feeling's more than mutual, I'm sure. Amy would quite literally burn down the local multiverse for your sake. It's kind of sweet, in an apocalyptic sorta way."
The gorgeous blonde looked even more confused than ever. "What are you talking about?"
"Not important. I'm not good at the whole people thing so I tend to ramble to fill the silence. Anyway, there's your answer. Brian might be a dumbass, but he's not necessarily a bad person. Or at least, he has good motives." I drank the rest of my coke and tossed it into the trash. Then, with a big stretch, I started to walk back the way I came. "Jean? Well, he's a little shit but that's completely understandable considering the family he's walking away from."
"Well, Hellh-"
"Nope. Don't even bother. She's wrongfully accused of murder. That sole case? Trigger event, happened when some bitch tried to drown her puppy."
"T-That's…"
I made a show of stretching my arms and kicked off from the wall. "Welp, I'm done here. You girls can figure yourselves out now that you know each other. Kinda."
"That's it? You're leaving?" Amy spoke, the first time in all this. She looked a little shell-shocked, like she'd expected something else. Then again, I'd dropped quite a few bombs in just five minutes.
"It's not in my nature to make people do something. Sarah's a brat, but she's not some irredeemable monster. Oh, and she'd really prefer to go by Lisa. Taylor's an idiot, but she started out wanting to be a hero. The rest aren't the monsters you'd like to think they are. Sure, the world would be a simpler place if it was all black and white, but that'd be kinda boring, you know?"
"B-But… You're just going to walk away after saying all that?"
"Yeah? I mean, I suppose I could kill you all, but what would be the point? Truth is, you girls, and the kids outside, are two sides of the same coin. Most of you would honestly get along if you met in different circumstances. As far as I'm concerned, my job here's done. Now that you know you're not some kind of destined mortal enemies, you can figure out how you want to proceed from here. Ciao~"
With that, Carnwennan materialized in my hand again, cloaking me in shadows.
I could see why Lisa did this so often. Being a smug know-it-all was fun.
'You're such a hypocrite.'
'I know. It's hilarious.'
X
Dinah Alcott
Mr. Soprano's meat candy was delicious.
He drove me back to his restaurant, handed me a bag of candied bacon, did something to his bounded field, whatever that was, and bolted out the door. There was a bank robbery happening at the same time apparently.
I wondered why he owned a restaurant if he was a hero. Did it not pay well or something?
He was a funny man. Daddy would hate him, but right now, I didn't really care. 'Chance of the bad man getting me?'
[Error. Insufficient data. Extrapolation impossible.]
It was the single greatest thing I'd ever heard. My know-it-all power didn't know.
It wasn't hopeless. My power knew what that was like down to the single percent. And that meant I could have hope. Maybe it was the bacon talking, but right now, things didn't seem so bad.
Then a hole opened in the air and a woman in a snazzy suit popped out. She had on a fedora, like from one of mommy's magazines, and looked really confused to be there.
I didn't know what else to do so I held out my plate of bacony goodness. "Meat candy?"
She looked at me, then at all the super cool weapons around the restaurant, and then at me again. She stalked behind the counter, pulled out a bottle of gold bourbon, daddy's favorite type of tea that wasn't for little girls, and poured herself a big glass.
She then took the plate and shoved a big piece in her mouth. "You know what? Why not. The Path is already in shambles anywa-Mmph! This is really good."
"I know, right?" I chirped brightly. "Meat candy makes everything better."
"So it does… Contessa."
"I'm Dinah. Is that your hero name?"
"I suppose you could say that."
"Ooh, I need one too now. Hmm…"
"Delphi," another voice said. Mr. Soprano had arrived, looking tired like daddy did after he went to one of Uncle Roy's rallies. "Your name is Delphi, kid. If anyone deserves to be named after the Oracle of Apollo, it's you."
"Technically, Delphi is the location, not the oracle," hat-lady said, only to receive a glare from Mr. Soprano.
"I can take away the bacon."
"t's a pleasure to meet you, Delphi."
"Dinah, that's Contessa. But you should get used to calling her Fortuna because she's your new bodyguard and mentor."
"Excuse me?"
"Yup. Fortuna, meet Dinah Alcott. She has the power to answer any question with a percentage value. By gauging numerical differences across multiple earths, she is capable of predicting endbringer movements, and arguably even Scion. Have her intern with Kurt or something. It shouldn't take you two long to maximize the value of her questions."
"You know this. You are certain."
"As certain as I was about Eidolon. I take it you've already confirmed the intel?"
"I have."
"She wasn't safe in the Wards but she shouldn't have any trouble now that Coil's gone. Just in case, have Rebecca sign off on making her a special consultant to Watchdog or something, make it clear that fucking with her will bring national attention."
"You know more than you should. Your hypothesis concerning Eidolon was valid, though I no longer think it was a hypothesis at all," she said. She studied Mr. Soprano like he was a brand new species of animal. I was starting to feel a little out of my depth. "Who are you?"
He pulled up a seat before taking a swig of bourbon right from the bottle. "Just a guy who likes making barbeque. Work to make the world a better place and you won't have any problems from me."
"Your goal?"
"A peaceful life in which the voice in my head would finally shut up," he grunted. Lots of people had imaginary friends, but Mr. Soprano's was the only person I knew with an imaginary enemy. "Look. To answer your questions: Yes, I want to kill the entity. Yes, I'll get rid of the endbringers when they show up. No, your power isn't lying to you. Yes, I'm a special brand of bullshit. Yes, there is a way to kill them, entities and endbringers both."
"You raise more questions. You are likely delusional but my power suggests otherwise. There is a void that I cannot understand."
"That would be the Heaven's Feel. And trust me, I'd be really freaked out if the Eye of Abbadon could calculate that."
"You know too much. You should be removed."
"Why? When I'm so willing to give up information for what is basically trivial favors on your end?"
Miss Fortuna took a sip of the bourbon and then munched on another slice of bacon. "Fine. Impress me. Provide me with something I can take back."
"To start with, the funny part of it all is that you have your silver bullet already. Lily, Flechette, in New York. She's a Ward. Her Shard is the Sting, with the power to pierce a target across all relevant dimensions. It's what entities use when fighting each other. She can pop the entity's golden avatar like a balloon. The real tricky part is destroying the planet-sized entity afterwards."
"Noted. I will return with further questions. Come, Delphi."
"Sure, why not. Let's just say I'm a special consultant, hmm?"
I didn't know what was happening. It was all so fast. I was pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear any of that but neither of them seemed to mind.
I stood and followed her like a robot, only for Mr. Soprano to hold me back.
"She still lives with her parents." Yes, that was important. I loved mommy and daddy. They weren't home a lot, but that meant I wanted to be there when they were. I looked at Miss Fortuna and nodded rapidly.
"Understood."
"She will be kept safe, happy, and encouraged to grow into a mature, responsible young woman."
"Naturally. Her well-being is beneficial to our cause."
"She will not participate in any unethical business practices or experimentation. In fact, probably better for her to join the local Wards, at least on a part-time basis. Let's reduce her exposure to your collective idiocy as much as possible."
"Oh, come on!" Miss Fortuna snapped. "We're really not that bad."
The look on Mr. Soprano's face said otherwise. I wasn't sure this was a good idea anymore…
"Really? Are you sure, Fortuna? Because you treat crimes against humanity like a shopping list."
"She will have to be exposed to some unpleasantness. I can only veil questions so much."
"Keep to my rules and I'll remove her thinker migraines."
"Wait, you can do that?" I gasped. I pulled his sleeve and gave him the best puppy eyes I could. "Do it. Do it. Do it."
He pulled out a slip of paper and a pen. "Contract. Geas actually. You're both going to sign it. It just goes over what we talked about. If you do, I'll remove Dinah's limiter."
Miss Fortuna glanced at it for a moment before writing down her name. So did I. I didn't read it all but that was okay because Mr. Soprano was a good person. He gave me candy and saved me from the bad man. If he could remove the headaches, he'd be my favorite person ever.
Once we signed it, Mr. Soprano pulled out a sheath. Not a sword. A sheath. He then pressed it to my chest. To my surprise, it sank inside, leaving behind a warm, tingly feeling.
"What is that?" Miss Fortuna asked.
"The Ever-Distant Utopia," he replied. "Don't worry about it. No headaches."
"Can you make more?"
"You have no idea. Now get out of my store; I have work to do. Oh, clean up the bank mess too, won't you?"
"You're a very demanding consultant."
"A very demanding consultant who rewards you with bacon and brisket."
"Touche. Goodbye, Kingmaker."
"It's John, you dumb bint!"
Author's Note
Am I ever going to stop making dick jokes? No, of course not. You are only as old as your ability to appreciate dick jokes.
Very AU Cauldron. Or maybe not? I honestly hate how fanon's turned Fortuna into a babbling moron who can't even speak English without her power. Believe it or not, she's actually scarily competent. She just happens to be working off faulty information, and pitted against the Simurgh.
I think I can consider this the end of the setup arc of this crack-fic. Will there be more? Ehh, who knows. Maybe next year when I take another month off of writing?
As for the bank scene, I felt it'd be funny to have a MC who just completely upends the board. Could he out-muscle everyone? Of course he could, but that wouldn't be as fun as the sheer WTF energy of treating Fortuna like the Bloody Mary.