A desperate mission. One, last chance for salvation. The odds were low that it would work, but a cornered animal will do anything to save itself. They drew lots, and the unlucky ones set off under the cover of whatever concealment they could find to muster hope that they could emerge from the other side of this ordeal intact. Knowing that even if they failed, their fellows might pull through another way.
Blades flashed.
*snip*
The caterwauling cut off with an abrupt hiccup. Nero looked indignantly at the microphone, lashing the cord impatiently. It whipped up from the edge of the balcony, frayed end flying through the air. "My power ballad!" she whined. "I was only halfway through my set list."
Atalanta decided to deliberately not see the team of chortling Servants making their way back to their bleacher seats, scissors safely stowed once more. Really, they'd done her a favor, given the way the mood in the stadium had been shifting since Nero got her hands on the microphone. She reached behind her chair and grabbed the megaphone she'd stashed, just in case. "No, Nero," she preempted the question, "you don't want to sing through this. Just think of the feedback and distortion; your public would be so disappointed."
Atalanta signaled for someone to bring Nero a platter of grapes, then cleared her throat. "We will now resume the competition. My remaining dozen, step OUT!"
The line of competitors emerged. One, two, three...nine, ten, eleven. One didn't come back. Atalanta sighed. "All right, where did Ruler go?"
The Servants looked at one another. "We just found her Golden Apple on the bench. When we went to reassemble. Guess she dropped out? Or something?"
"Or something," Atalanta agreed. "The competition would seem to be heating up." With a snap of her fingers, the abandoned Golden Apple whizzed over the Servants' heads and smacked into her palm. "Servant Ruler, Jeanne d'Arc, has burned out, it would seem. Happens to the best athletes."
An uncomfortable silence fell. "What, you weren't thinking it?" she asked the crowd. "No matter. I see no reason not to continue my Festival. Impress me, Servants!"
Glad they didn't.
