A/N: who here thinks I'm insane? Raise your hands please. Yeah. Thought so.

Anyway, what am I doing? Glad ya'll asked. I haven't friggin' clue, really. It just came to me, a plot bunny suddenly appeared and attacked my jugular and left me for dead. Now, this is what you get from me. Congratulations on your hard work of getting past the "wtf?" factor and going ahead and reading. However, I doubt you're reading this, so it doesn't really matter if I continue to say absurd and completely stupid things to you or express my deepest thoughts. If I had any. Deep that is. ALL HAIL METRO MINT WATER! It is made of God and Win. YUSH!

So anyway, this was simply the thought. What if the servants were reincarnated into endowed children in the series The Children of the Red King? Haha.. I've been having trouble dealing with Shirou/Archer, since I like the angst that would be Archer, but Shirou's sixteen. So what do I do?

Have to go with the same scenario I suppose for Archer and Shirou, being Archer is Shirou's future self from an alternate reality, at least, I think I can pull that off given the rather NORMAL circumstances in Charlie Bone. Being, magic is magic, and time travel has once entered into it, but that plot device is gone now. -w-;;

And thus, you get the reason why I'm so damn good. :3 I can pull off something that shouldn't be and make it believable through my writing. Yup.

Charlie Bone and the Infamous Seven


A tall, relatively muscled man lay against a rock, gazing at his own slow demise. He was tanned and had prematurely white, longish hair that was messy from the battle he'd been in, his bangs hiding a little of his brown eyes, typical of a Japanese man. It was his own fault he was in this state to begin with. There stood, not fifty feet away, a man with a horrible grin on his pale features. The man had long dark hair and it was flowing free in the breeze that blew through the desolate area. Fire was in the man's gaze, his eyes burning like hot coals, as he gazed at the fallen man.

The fallen man grimaced and twitched as he moved to sit up more. The man standing away from him frowned, pouting as though he had expected him to die. He had, but that wasn't the point.

The fallen man smirked arrogantly as he slowly stood up. He had one last trump card to him before he could safely say he was going to die. "You aren't going to win," said the dark haired man.

The fallen man pulled on a coat the color of blood and straightened himself up. Dirt, sweat and blood covered portions of his face. He heard a distant purring and smiled as he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small spherical object the size of a shooter marble and looks at it. It was his last attempt at creating what he'd seen so long ago in the hand of a woman who he could only guess was the mother of the man in front of him.

Fire burst to life around the red coated man. He didn't flinch, he didn't think, he simply smiled and held out the little ball. The man saw it and made the flames die down a little as he ran toward the red coated man. "Give me that!" he snarled.

The red coated man retracted his hand and looked into the marble. He saw a forest inside the ball, but it looked unnatural, just like anything else he created. The purring grew louder, but disappeared as everything began swirling around him. He looked up to see the horrified look of his attacker and gave him a rude gesture, grinning maniacally at him. "Hope I never see the like of you again, Mr. Bloor." Then, all went white.