Fate/Suburbia External

S3 Chapter 10: The Black Dragons

Shou, Nero, Heracles, Lanling, and Caster of Midrash reach the edge of Glumsbill.

"To think such an unfortunate place exists so close to where I rest my head!" Nero exclaims.

"I don't believe this is all too bad, it is just that the surrounding city is far too new for the area," Lanling says.

Vrooooom. Brub brub brub. Vrooooom.

"What's going on?" Shou asks, looking around.

"We are gaining an audience it seems," Nero replies while raising her sword.

From out a parking complex and around an old apartment building, black motorcycles with leather jacketed body builders, street brawlers and hipsters alike riding them come to circle the Master and his servants.

"You better not mess with us, don't you see I am a Master?!" Shou shouts out.

VROOM VROOM.

An exhaust pipe rattles vigorously, clashing into the ground and causing sparks to smoke the streets.

"ROOOOOAR," Heracles roars.

The bikes front and center part, revealing a shaded man with the biggest body of all cruising in. If one didn't know better, one could argue him having a fair shot at taking on Shou's berserker . His mustache was clean, and his bandana tied so neatly around his cranium, it must've taken hours to tie. Most importantly of all was the flag he bared across his body waving high in the spring breeze, a charmingly dirty white, like an heirloom shirt of a deceased one from generations past. Across it, within the black stringed border was a fierce dragon. The only thing to exceed the symbol was the flirtatiously dangerous grin of the woman who sat perpendicularly square on the rider's back. Her long white hair flowing with the flag, and her gold eyes fixated on the interlopers that were Shou and his servants.

"You dare cross into Black Dragon territory?! Heh, were you expecting a happy stroll in lala land?" Jalter teases while sitting high above the others.

"Jeanne D'arc Alter..." Shou says.

"Ugh, don't speak my name swine," Jalter says, rolling her eyes.

"Excuse me?" Shou responds, taken aback by the immediate insult.

"Hey! How dare you speak ill of Shou! Any disrespect to him, is an affront to Rome! And I Emper--"

"Yeah, yeah, no one cares, leave before light this place up," Jalter demands.

"Ok, that's how you want to play it huh?" Shou steps forward.

"Huh?" Jalter lets out.

Vroooom. Vrooom. Vrooooooooom.

A series of bikes tap their pedals.

"Master, Master. Let's not escalate things here, perhaps we can work out something monetarily. Make our pennies worth," Caster shuffles to collect Shou.

"Leave negotiations to me," Lanling says, stepping forth himself.

"No, no one is just going to disrespect me, and then threaten me, serv--"

"Sorry Shou, but just stay in there!" The Caster of Midrash exclaims creating a cloud to engulf her Master.

"Tch. I told you guys to piss off, do you have a death wish?!" Jalter shouts.

"Umu! If it is an assault you wish for, the--"

Lanling, "Now hold on, let's not forget why we're here!"

"You heard the boss, we don't care! Get lost!" A man cries out. A series of agreements echo that very sentiment.

Lanling,"Jeanne of Glumsbill, may I please have an audience with you?"