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Fate/Lunaterra ~ RP Thread

Discussion in 'Freeform Roleplays' started by Shadow, May 9, 2017.

  1. Malden finally placed his device down after having done whatever he needed to on it. There wasn't any more to be said, at least he considered. Perhaps it would be best to discuss more at the penthouse than in the vehicle. Or, perhaps there was more to brief on. Regardless, the presence behind him in the vehicle felt terribly annoying to his senses. Perhaps when this queen of a Servant got her way would there be less of an aura of impediment that she aired so bluntly.

    The drive would only feel somewhat long while they navigated the practically-empty streets of Calescen. the crazEcorp tower was somewhat behind them before they turned into another skyscraper, this one looking quite elegant for a building as large as it was. the structure slightly curved as it reached for the sky, creating a helix effect. Almost autonomously, Malden would present his personal card at the parking gate underneath the building, which would allow passage into an exclusive part of the hotel building. From there, they could park and make their way to the elevator taking them up into the building.

    Malden exited the vehicle, stretching his neck for a moment before motioning toward the elevator. It was only a short walk; it paid to be well-provided at such a complex. Nothing seemed strange with their walk until something shifted on the wall by the elevator. Or, as it would seem, the wall itself shifted. Malden stopped and nodded toward the wall, to which it seemed to nod back. It was then that the wall itself stretched outward, tapping to request for the elevator in behalf of Malden. Forming a human shape, the wall then stretched out until the material cracked and split. The shape then walked forward impossibly in a human shape, each limb moving smoothly as if it were a real living thing.

    It was then that the material of the wall cracked and disintegrated, dusting the floor and leaving a cloaked, masked individual. Not a single tell of biology could be seen on the form, but it certainly seemed as though it was. It merely stared with unreadable, red veiled eye slots to the new individual and at Evan for a moment. Without a word, it then turned into the elevator as the doors peeled open and leaned on the corner to the far left.

    Malden turned in the elevator as well, his smirk returning back to his face. So far, things were going fairly smooth. Perhaps by tomorrow, he'd have a full evaluation on the other masters and servants. Already, a report was compiled on one of the masters and their servant. An interesting report waiting to be added upon, for sure.

    Valerie, Malden thought momentarily with his smirk widening every slightly, What have you gotten yourself into?
     
  2. Just what I wanted to hear. Llerse was pleased by Assassin's response. With this, it seemed that he would likely that his own goal would be achieved even if he did lose. Not that it meant that he wasn't in this war for nothing. It would be boring if he simply handed his defeat to the other Masters. And with the deal having finally been struck, his handshake was accepte-

    Llerse flinched in sharp pain almost as quickly as Assassin accepted his handshake. He didn't know exactly what happened, but he suddenly felt as if his hand had just been bitten into. The cause wasn't immediately apparent, though given what he saw of the man, his first guess probably would have been correct. Though that thought quickly exited his mind as he noticed black markings forming around his Command Spells. It was followed by a rather odd sensation. It was like one of his Command Spells was active, but at the same time, it felt like it wasn't the case at all. Could this have had something to do with Assassin's first term?

    Llerse eventually let go of Assassin's hand and placed his other hand on it. The pain was gone, but the fact that it was gone and this sensation made him slightly cautious. When asked about their next actions, he took a minute to think about it. "With the war just starting, there's really no rush to kill quite yet. Strategy is indeed important." He paused. "For now, we're better off getting as much information on the other Master and Servant pairs as we can. Anything that we can use to figure out the best way to defeat them. And if necessary, who among these people would be good to make a temporary alliance with." Another pause. "It's a very unlikely case, but you never know if those two old sayings are applicable here."

    Llerse walked a few feet past Assassin. "But that's just my thought. By all means, if you have anything to suggest, then by all means."

    ----------------------------------------------------------​

    Caster momentarily glanced out the window as the group made their ride toward their apparent destination. For only having been in the city for what seemed like only a few minutes, the view of the city of Calescen was already doing nothing to interest her. And the empty streets they drove down wasn't helping. Fitting enough, the eye on her hand closed, probably having had about as much of a look as her and no longer wanted to look outside.

    Caster exited the sedan once they had reached their destination, deciding not to wait to see how Evan would react. She already knew what to expect from these two. Where was that fox when she needed her? She started to follow Malden to the elevator, stopping almost as quickly as her eyes shifted, noticing what appeared to be the wall shifting. She wasn't surprised nor saw it as much of an immediate threat based on Malden's actions, though she kept a cautious eye on the entity as it revealed itself to them. She soon followed the being and Malden into the elevator, taking position in the opposite corner of the former. She noted the smirk on Malden's face, briefly wondering what was going on in his mind. Though she figured she'd find out soon enough.
     
  3. This boy-man-dragon-thing was starting to creep into Kal's nerves. He was being obnoxiously withdrawn with whatever it was he was doing. Why couldn't he just tell her? Something was happening cause his attention kept being drawn away, like he was prodding the silent surroundings for answers with only his perception. And what's this about being Rider due to a peculiar aetheric distortion? Still, he held that selfsame confidence- clearly knowing what he was doing.

    She wished she knew his name.

    The thought was so sudden she almost stuttered out her response. "Good idea." She quickly followed with "Perhaps I can find some tech to scavenge." to shift her mind off the needless thought that was rapidly clawing its way to the center of her attention. Why was a name such a concern right now? It wasn't. Besides, he's a servant conjured for one purpose- the Grail. Rider was plenty good enough.

    To busy herself, she placed an armored hand on the window and pushed her will into the glass. The gauntlet danced with a short stream of blue electricity. Rather than shatter, the glass simply miniaturized just enough to give a soft pop and land delicately in Kal's hands. After setting the glass carefully on the ground, she offered for Rider to enter with mock chivalry.
     
  4. "I will follow your lead, Master," Assassin replies smoothly, drawing a finger across the red serpent's head. She hisses softly in response, before withdrawing slightly and looking around the room like her gray companion had done earlier. Speaking of, that other snake seems docile now, coiled around Assassin's left arm and still as if sleeping.

    Assassin chuckles. "Ah, but first, allow me to introduce you to the least potent of my Noble Phantasms." He extends his arms. "The snake Adrastos," he proffers the gray serpent first, who flicks his tongue out lazily, "and you have already become acquainted with Azadeh." Hearing her name, the scarlet creature also flicks her tongue out, but this time at Llerse, in a strange motion that seems oddly amused for a snake. Is she mocking him?

    "Azadeh and Adrastos are my primary methods of battling and attacking at a short range," Assassin explains. "I can speak to and control all snakes, however. If we need a spy that won't register as a magical familiar to other mages, then we may wish to find a wild snake."

    ----------

    Rider gives Kalonia a strange look at both her suddenly flustered response and her actions. It would have been a lot quicker to break the glass, and it's not like mages can't protect themselves from pointy things. But her words themselves are sound, and not a bad tactic. He nods in approval, then raises an eyebrow with a slight smirk as she gestures for him to go first.

    "I just said there's nobody in there, I don't need to scout it out for you," he comments, mistaking her intent. All the same, though, he enters the window with an easy leap, looking for all the world more like a teenager hopping over a bench or a pipe to save time rather than a fighter simply entering cover. He lands on his feet without so much as a stumble, glances around briefly, then turns and offers a hand to Kalonia as if to help her through.

    His still somewhat distracted expression takes on a dark hint for a moment, flickering through his eyes before he suppresses it.

    ----------

    A faint light bolts across the sky in the direction of the other Servant. To anyone watching from below, the sight might be odd- would they think it an illusion? A shooting star? Perhaps alien life? But the light does not care for whoever may be watching so long as they are not an enemy. If some random citizen were to see him, then no matter. It is only Masters and Servants that he does not want to be seen by.

    Mimring Thunderscale closes in on the signal and can now determine that, indeed, there are two of them, and so relays this information to Rider. So it is that one of these Servants did indeed get derailed by something else, perhaps having been attacked or perhaps it was going for the other unknown to begin with. In any case, with the two distracted by each other, even if they sense the light nearby they are unlikely to search too hard for it.

    He is close enough to hear a voice now, a voice that carries impossibly for how quiet it truly is. Perhaps the deserted streets are to blame, a voice at somewhat normal volume echoing further and louder than it would have any right to under normal circumstances. But this does not concern him at all, for the voice itself is more immediately alarming to him. A striking familiarity courses through him and into Rider through the link. A memory of that tenor, that rhythm, the words chosen.

    They both know that voice.

    Thuri, I fear that we may have encountered a problem.

    Yeah. I think you're right.
     
  5. "... Oh, Gods damn it." Berserker cursed, all tension that would have been stored in her muscles immediately evaporating in a clearly audible sigh of irritation. She focused her attention back at the mysterious voice, and its owner, an equally-mysterious youth. "Of all the people to be found first, it was us." She too didn't give the appearance of outwardly challenging the new arrival. She knew the rules--only one winner and all that--but she wasn't about to recite them out loud for twelve seconds and give a possible assailant the biggest advantage possible. She wasn't going to commit a tactical error that big out the gate, no matter how far into her own 'character' she was willing to go. "I didn't expect to have an exchange so soon. Kind of strange of me, now that I think about it..." Berserker cocked her head a bit, almost trying to taunt whoever this was into a fight that was likely inevitable anyway.
     
  6. Lucas blinks at the newcomer as he approaches. From Berserker's reaction, this unipressive-looking person is a Servant of some sort, though he carries no visible weaponry or armor or anything besides a strange cloak and thus it is hard to determine which Servant he is. Quietly reaffirming his grip on the handgun the Master looks around calmly. This new Servant has clearly placed himself in the way of the duo's intended path, but...

    "You do realize we don't actually need you to move, right?" Lucas asks in a voice clearly without worry. "There are several side streets and alleys we could take instead, if we wanted. You aren't exactly blocking the way." His voice masks a faint click at his right side. He pauses briefly, tilting his head as he looks at the man before him.

    "What Servant are you, anyway?"
     
  7. "No, I guess I didn't take that into account." Lancer admitted, sounding completely unconcerned. He was lying, and he made it obvious he was lying, not even bothering to spare a glance to any of the streets or alleys that branched away from this one. It would leave the pair wondering exactly where the trick was involved for the Servant to disregard the possibility of retreat, and what was the nature of the lie.

    "That's a good question." Lancer answered the Master, ignoring the enemy Servant's wordless taunting, "I could be Saber, or Assassin, or even one of the irregular classes, if you've heard of those."

    He moved as he neared the end of his second sentence, an ostensibly careless walk towards the pair. It was decidedly unhurried in terms of speed, but he was walking with purpose, and if there was anything from this Servant that gave the impression of a Servant settling on two targets, it would be now. His motion prompted an incredibly minuscule shift in the air surrounding him, occurring in seemingly random positions within roughly two meters of him, but the human eye would be wholly incapable of deciphering them, should it even register them.

    -----~---~---~-----

    Evan had followed Malden dutifully and wordlessly, having only fallen slightly behind as he spent one or two seconds ensuring that the sedan was properly locked. Not that this was especially important given the time and place, but he practiced the principle of being thorough even when the situation seemed it could demand less. Meticulousness had not killed him so far, after all, and if there was such a thing as a fundamental rule to the unpredictable and anomalous world behind Terra's veil, it was to never take everything for granted.

    What do I have to lose, anyway? Evan mused, barely even reacting to the individual as he decloaked, except by acknowledging him with a nod, not dissimilar to how one may have wordlessly greeted a colleague at work that they knew only by appearance.

    The car was not even his, not strictly speaking. He had certainly used it more than once for the purposes of official transportation, maintaining appearances for the public, but the sedan was something akin to part of his equipment, a vehicle granted to him as an agent, not Even Fellsword. He did not even have Omicron on the car, nor the rest of his equipment for the matter, but he had the feeling that Malden intended to change that, tonight.

    Omicron, the Magusbreaker. He avoided a frown as his thoughts drifted to it. When was the last time he had had to use it? His memories blurred into one another, indistinct. Evan knew he would have to use it during the Holy Grail War, at some point. It was as inevitable as expecting Servants to fight: it was the sort of assistance that he would be forced to provide, if it meant helping the remains of the Knight family. Sorry, Val. You've stuck to your principles, but I've already decided I'd betray mine. At least you're not the one who has to pull the trigger, in the end.

    Evan made a conscious effort to not glance unnecessarily at the Servant as he positioned himself at the furthest right corner, somewhat facing Caster. Or at least the Servant who seemed to be Caster, but knowing Malden's tactical preferences truncated all but two very tempting possibilities, and one of them was almost surely discarded by virtue of the air that this woman had.

    It fit Malden, for all he was.
     
  8. Kalonia accepts the offered hand with a clearly exaggerated look of hurt. "Why Rider, I would never doubt your expertise." She proffered with dramatic flare. She was going to follow up, but Rider's eyes were absent again- he seemed to be constantly distracted by something- but now, or for at least a moment, he seemed... concerned? He must be tracking somehow with that mysterious something he sent out. And perhaps his findings were not the positive kind. She entered the room easily enough, but her attention was on the Servant.

    "Something wrong?"
     
  9. “I greatly apricate your co-operation on this, Saber. If I can achieve this mission in a satisfactory way it will do far more good than a simple one-off wish.” Distra pointed a finger at the demon, her voice almost accusatory, but not in a negative way. “But don’t keep quiet about your own goals. I’m here to explore and break apart this war to its fullest. The Terran wizards might think they’re kings among men, keeping average people in the dark, but I suffer no ‘Master-Servant’ delusions.”

    Distra walked over to her short fuzzy teammate and grabbed him in her arms. He seemed upset but didn’t make any actual attempt to resist. Instead he resigned himself to giving her death-eyes while cupped into a ball. It was clear they had some history of doing this. “And don’t mind Putatio, his kind have an interesting relationship with death. They’re a divine race on another planet, don’t you know?” “Ex-divine.” The small caster corrected. “And don’t keep him distracted here with trivia. Someone with good surveillance is going to find him.” On that note, the rekkan rolled out of Distra’s patronizing grasp, his scarves flopping about behind him, and faced Saber again.

    “Listen; I handle communications. It’s my magic spell. If I know someone’s true name I can communicate with them. Any way I like. Saber isn’t your true name. I can tell. I won’t ask what it is. You seem reclusive.” Putatio took a pause for a moment and took his hand to his ear, as a mocking telephone, any bitterness seeming to have been erased by a sense of self-satisfaction. Shockingly, the following played directly into the Vodera's mind. As the rekkan said, it was clearly the work of magic. I know that you’re Distra’s Servant. Good enough. That’s not usually how I do this workaround. An address would be easier. A phone number? Employer and Position is what I’m technically using now. Putatio then returned to his normal, slightly squeaky, voice. He returned to a more serious tone, but the disrespect was still gone. “Get me any contact information you can on the enemy. Or anyone you want for that matter. I can hack into their communications. This is how I can serve you, ‘Servant.’”

    As Putatio gave his speech, Distra walked over to the glass back of the room. When he was done, she threw open the door to the balcony. “Let’s go, Saber. I can explain the rest on the run.” She ordered, seeming to pay to mind to the fact that they were on the second story. “Be sure to give Oke’nyi a goodbye kiss and then meet me outside.” With that she slid past the door and seemed to almost vanish from sight around it’s corner. The alien being on the countertop shivered in excitement at its name and domed its two main tentacles towards the massive flaming red man, beckoning for a hug. On the top of its tubular body an orifice surrounded by much smaller noodle-like tentacles opened slightly and started making kissing noises in Saber’s direction.
     
  10. The elevator ascended smoothly. As they reached the level of request, Malden shifted every slightly, as if preparing himself for what was on the other side of the door. As they opened slowly, Malden walked forward with a steady pace. The floor they had been taken to was the top floor; a penthouse sold to Malden for what could only be assumed to be in the millions of dollars.

    A small hallway of only approximately eight feet or so separated the elevator doorway and the doorway to the penthouse. The doors to the penthouse seemed thick and domineering, although it didn't seem to exhibit any specific security. As they passed the dark wooden doors inside, the small space opened up into a massive lounge area that probably took the majority of the floor. elegant pieces of furniture dotted the mostly-windowed walls that spanned almost the entire circumference of the room. almost everything seemed to be in a black and gold theme; even art dotting the furthest wall (the only one that wasn't a series of windows) seemed to mirror such a design.

    Malden relaxed his shoulders as he loosened his pace ever slightly. Walking to the furthest wall, which had a small hallway going right down the middle, he stopped short to lean onto a small bar-esque counter jutting from the right portion of the furthest wall. Reaching behind, he rummaged over a few clinking glass objects before finally pulling a thick, stout bottle of alcohol into view and setting it onto the counter. The liquid inside had a deep amber color. As Malden opened the bottle, he reached for a small glass to pour it in.

    "Make yourself at home," Malden urged Caster with a soft voice. As he poured the drink, he sighed and turned to look out the window. "Tonight we rest. Tomorrow... we conquer."

    The strange being that had taken the elevator ride with them walked and laid himself out on one of the sofas near the window, seeming to enjoy a lack of duty at this point in time. a small cloud of dust had come off the being's trench coat; despite being fully in gear, the being seemed quite content and relaxed.

    Malden motioned to Evan by the elevator. A second glass had managed to appear on the counter, with Malden filling this second glass with the liquid as well. After giving the agent enough time to motion over, he placed the bottle down gently and grabbed his glass.

    Malden took a quick drink while staring out at the view of Calascen. Although the majority of the view showed lights flickering like millions of stars, there were barely any signs of movement down below. The city was quiet; it was a calm first night for the holy grail war.

    Malden flinched. His hands quivered ever slightly before he regained his grip. A knot welled in his stomach for only a moment coupled with a shiver of terror. The harbinger was reminding him. Shaking the feeling, he pursed his lips and went for another glass.

    "Evan," Malden mused, "Do you know how Calascen was founded?"
     
  11. Llerse looked at the pair of snakes as Assassin introduced the two of them to him. He noted the unusual pattern of Azadeh's flicked tongue. The hint of amusement from her, preceded by Assassin's choice of words when introducing her, only confirmed what he had briefly suspected after having been bitten. Of all things, to be mocked by a snake. Despite the fact, he didn't really show much of a reaction to it. Whatever the case, as long as it could be useful to him in this war, it was free to mock him as much as it wanted.

    "I see..." Llerse spoke after Assassin had noted one of his abilities. Not like he really needed to. "Well, finding a wild snake around here shouldn't be much of an issue." He began to walk once more, reaching the door and opening. Outside the room was a dark hallway going about thirty feet in either direction. He signaled Assassin to follow as he turned to the right.

    Looking down the hallway as they made their way forward, the place appeared to be in shambles. The ceiling was lined with cobwebs, and on the floor lined a few snapped beams of wood. In several spots along the wall, the red paint had peeled away. And in others, there were large slash marks. Even the carpet they walked on seemed to have been clawed away at. They soon exited out into the stairway of the building, which seemed to have fared a bit better, if not much. Looking out a window, instead of city building, there were a line of trees outside. Unusual for a building located in Calascen. "As much as I like the wonders of modern technology," Llerse started, albeit somewhat sarcastically, "I don't really like people that it's made for. So I keep myself here in the wooded areas on the outskirts of the city. No shortage of wild snakes here."

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    Caster slowly entered after her Master had urged her in. She glanced around the large room. While not directly expressing it, even she had to admit this abode was impressive. If only somewhat. In her mind, she couldn't help but feel as if there was still something lacking about it. Other than the missing vulpine. She couldn't quite place it, but something felt missing from this.

    Maybe it was a better choice of color. Black was never a problem. But of all colors, gold was always a conflicting color for her. It was a nice color, she wasn't afraid to admit. But it caused her a number of problems in her past.

    Or maybe it was just nothing. Who knows?

    Trying to keep her mind off it, she walked toward one of the windows lining the side of the walls. Rather than glance down at the city, she looked up to the night sky. She stared at the stars that could be seen despite the bright lights of Calascen as she started to listen to both Malden and this Evan person.
     
  12. "If you were Assassin, you'd be very poor at your job, announcing your presence like this," Lucas replies blandly, appearing unconcerned. "And I honestly doubt you're of any irregular class, unless something has gone horribly wrong with the Grail War this time around." He looks around, as if considering both Servants and the surroundings. He looks unhurried, almost casually conversational, maybe even bored. His gun is held at his side, not aimed, but also not held loosely, either.

    So, where is your Master...?

    He looks at the enemy Servant again. "So, that's Assassin out of the question. You're not Berserker, either, you're too calm." He pretends his own Servant isn't Berserker. "You're making no effort to get close, so you're probably not a Saber, but that could be because you don't feel you need to. But it probably just means you fight at a range." He pauses, putting his free hand to his chin.

    "Assuming that's correct, that leaves Caster, Archer, Lancer, and maybe Rider, but somehow I doubt you'd be the last one. Your lack of weapon would usually mean Caster, but I'm not fool enough to think that a Servant always has a weapon on it. Particularly if they aim for concealment of technique." A glance at Berserker. "What do you think?"

    ----------

    Assassin follows Llerse quietly, looking around the dark corridor as they walk through it. He chuckles slightly upon seeing the state of the locale, giving his surroundings a cursory glance as Llerse explains the reasoning behind using the venue as a base. The Servant nods absently as Adrastos gives a soft hiss, and then he looks back at Llerse.

    "Nice place you have here," he comments sarcastically, but with that same selfsure grin. "... Actually, it's not a bad idea, Master. Few people would expect a Master and Servant to be using a place such as this for a base of operations." Assassin looks once more at the surroundings, but at more specific features this time. The place is probably beyond repair. After a moment, his sly expression directs back towards Lerse and he chuckles again.

    "What is it that you do in here, Master, to have a base in such a state of disrepair?"

    ----------

    "Well, I know where the other Servant is," Rider begins slowly, choosing his words carefully, "and he's been derailed by another Servant and her Master. I can't tell what class the new Servant is, but the one I sensed earlier is almost certainly either Lancer or Caster." He doesn't explain why he's so sure of this. Rider shakes his head and gives a hard look out another window.

    "If he comes this way, we need to move. We- no, I need space to fight him and you need space to stay out of the way." His tone is more strained than unkind- while it may have been blunt, the statement wasn't meant as a put-down. "This building is a good enough place to rest and get our bearings, but it's important that the other Servant doesn't catch us in here, or I'm going to be at a disadvantage." For the first time since this topic came up he looks Kalonia in the eyes.

    "If we get dragged into a fight with him," he continues, "I need you to move where I tell you to. If I tell you to stay back, you stay back. If I tell you to hide, you hide. Got it?"

    ----------

    How's it going over there?

    The other Servant's Master seems to be trying to distract him with a conversation, deducing what Servant he may be. This could be beneficial to us, but unfortunately he's come to a less specific conclusion than we have. The dragon is relatively calm- seeing the confrontation now, nobody seems to recognize that he's there. Surely they can sense him, but perhaps they are too focused on each other. Or perhaps a faint, near-invisible light is not catching their suspicion.

    Which brings up another point.

    What do you want me to do if he sees me?

    If he goes after you, get out of there. Otherwise, there's no guarantee he'll realize who you are and there's no harm in watching what happens.

    Understood. Rala kelai, Thuri.
     
  13. Kalonia started at the sudden tension. This was serious. And from the look- and sound- of it, Rider wasn't terribly excited to be relaying his findings. Granted, Kal imagined Berserker to be the only one that'd actually enjoy the idea of finding another Servant. This was a war. War meant death; a concept that was rapidly becoming all too real. The inventor offered a curt nod before she was able to muster words again.

    "Understood Rider. Don't concern yourself with me. I trust you to work however it is you do. I can offer support as needed, and will do my best not to offer it unless requested." She tried to sound confident, but her heart wasn't fully in it. But she meant it and that's what mattered. And naturally, the back of her mind couldn't help but rib her:

    I feel like the master-servant roles are reversing.

    ---

    Saber seemed to have an endless supply of external patience. He felt the corners of his mind compelling him to act upon just how much time was being wasted with this group's... antics. But he was dutiful and withheld himself; his expressions betraying no signs of these internal contemplations. Masters came in all shapes and sizes, personalities and attitudes... intelligence and reasonings.

    The great Demon offered Putatio a simple attentive glance to show he understood it. The Demon's mind locked down the moment words began to arrive within it. He heard everything that was conveyed, but even the newest telepath would be able sense the Demon's disgruntled unease at the sudden intrusion. He let the emotion stand as a warning to use the channel only if absolutely necessary. He was gaining a great distaste for the small being.

    Saber was grateful to finally be on the move; hearing his master declare their departure. He was as ready now as he was the moment he was summoned. Almost ready. He corrected himself with the briefest glance at his empty hands. He followed after his master, not even sparing a glance at Oke'nyi.
     
  14. "Hm, hard to say for sure." Berserker replied, keeping her guard up almost instinctively, "If there's range involved, though, I'm not going to charge in blindly." As the mysterious Servant approached--mind you, slowly, almost excruciatingly so--and the staredown continued, she couldn't help but feel something was... off. Back home, a mage wouldn't willingly approach someone like her without backup, yet here this guy was walking up slowly, looking like he was about to do something.

    Then she realised something. She didn't need to know the new arrival's class, all she had to do was wait. She wasn't going to make the first move, she didn't need to. In fact, it was probably better that she didn't. Sometimes it can be hard to stop a prosthetic magitech fist, and she knew full well of that danger.

    But did the newcomer?
     
  15. Contrary to Caster who stepped into the penthouse with methodical but impeccably subdued curiosity, Evan walked forward with a sort of familiar and even relaxed ease, barely sparing the decor more than fleeting glances. For better or for worse, the environment was familiar to him, but his attention was elsewhere: not the location, nor the two positively unknown elements in the same room with him, but at the unseen war beneath them all. How would Valerie be faring, in all of this?

    Evan pushed the concerns aside and accepted Malden's offer, approaching the bar counter. "Much appreciated, boss." he said with a small smile, taking the glass and listening to Malden. Somewhat instinctively (or perhaps more like a reflex, borne out of his time as a Knightcorp Agent), he kept Caster on the periphery of his vision, but the strange woman did not seem to be doing much else than stare out of the window. Strange.

    "Uh, I'm afraid not," Evan admitted after a small moment of consideration, taking a sip from the glass and adding a slightly belated "sir" after the fact. He did not even like alcohol, but the burning sensation as the liquid traversed his throat was almost pleasant right now, and had a reinvigorating effect on his mind, like a fire that had been stoked anew when there had only been warm kindles before. Focus.

    -----~---~---~-----

    "Pretty dangerous, that way of thinking." Lancer chuckled slightly, his pace remaining steady as he replied. "Attempting to assume that much, from only textbook definitions of the Servant Classes..." he looked somewhat curiously at the gun-carrying Master as he said this, either to let the words sink in, or because he was drawing his own conclusion. He had already covered a third of the original distance between the place he stood when he revealed himself, and the Master-Servant pair, but...

    The Servant... isn't reacting at all. Lancer noted, keeping close track of the woman in his peripheral vision, despite not actually looking at her. Normally, a Servant would have reacted at this point. He would have found this mildly alarming if it were not for the fact that her guarded demeanor spoke something entirely different. She's wary of me, and maybe to a fault. She's hesitating on making the first move.

    "...So, I think you might be speaking out of lack of practical experience as a magus, more so than anything else."

    Then, Lancer smirked a little,

    "Well, I guess that makes things easier for me."

    There was a dry crack as the asphalt below Lancer's position fractured abruptly, marking the same moment of time when the Servant was already upon Berserker. The movement—if it could even be called one—was exceedingly sudden, with no physical cues to precede it. It was as if the Servant had been launched by an invisible force between one instant and the next, without ever actually having had to run, strictly speaking. To somebody who was expecting some form of visual cue to gauge an appropriate response, it would be as surprising and jarring as a boom of thunder in the bright daylight.

    Lancer had just crossed the remainder of the distance between him and Berserker in the blink of an eye.

    Inexplicably, something had also allowed him to decelerate to almost a full stop a mere two meters away from the other Servant, and seamlessly transition into a dash as he returned to a more humanly realm of speed. Lancer had apparently found enough time in the interim between positions to angle his body forward in preparation for the dash, and furthermore also to reach for something seemingly located on the left side of his beltline, his right arm coursing with visible particles of Mana. A nascent Spell. Although the angle of his cloak entirely concealed whatever Lancer had reached for, the position and motion itself was unmistakable: a classical drawing of a blade, a prelude to a swordsman's slash wide from left to right.

    It was the only tell he allowed his opponent to observe. An incredibly immediate threat demanding an equally immediate response.

    But it was a misdirection.

    The moment Lancer's arm twitched forward as if to draw the hidden weapon, an unseen something whipped from the complete opposite direction, threatening to crash brutally into Berserker's left flank, with enough force to perhaps send her crashing straight into a wall. Only a small distortion accompanied the path of the object, but it was vague and dispersed enough that even trying to interpret its exact shape would be highly difficult, if not impossible under these circumstances, given its short travel distance and speed.

    Lancer knew precisely what it was in form, though: the weapon, the Noble Phantasm, had been molded not as a blade, but as a blunt weapon. Like a large club of tungsten that had been swung not to specifically kill, but to crush the more physical defenses and shatter the more energetic or metaphysical ones through sheer force and momentum alone.

    He would force this Servant to play her hand.
     
  16. What little survival instinct humans have kicks in as Lucas registers the enemy servant has immediately closed the distance between himself- and, by extension, the less battle-ready Lucas. His eyes widen briefly at the sudden proximity, but his gun is already in his hand and lifting to aim.

    The Master seems not to notice the enemy Servant's feint, or if he does he disregards it. Sword or not, the Servant is far too close for comfort and the resounding noise of a gunshot marks Lucas backing away. To most this action would seem suicidal, but he knows a bullet is more likely to be an annoyance than a threat to the Servant and pulling his attention away from Berserker could prove enough of a distraction to be fatal, so under normal circumstances Lucas would be relatively safe in firing his gun while retreating from the fray.

    Keeping in mind, of course, that there's no way for Lucas to know that these aren't quite normal circumstances.

    ----------

    He closed the distance to the other Servant!

    Rider seems unfazed by the gunshot in the distance, though he does tilt his head slightly as if listening. For the moment he's quiet, still relaying information from his dragon, but this time he lifts a single finger at Kalonia as if telling her to wait a moment- giving her some form of acknowledgement, at least, and signalling that he will be informing her of events.

    But would he do that if he was Caster? Doesn't seem his style. In fact, I don't think he'd even be out and about this early in the game if he was Caster.

    His vectors are in play, there is no doubting that.

    Then he's probably Lancer. Anything else?

    The enemy Servant's Master has a gun.

    Rider gives a light sigh. "Alright then." He looks at Kalonia. "Long and short of it, I'm fairly sure the other Servant is Lancer. We can't identify the class of the Servant he's fighting, but her Master is present and has a gun. Not too much of a bother to me, but you..." he makes a vague gesture and stands up straighter.

    "We're in no immediate danger here, but if their battle comes in our direction we need to move. So get ready."
     
  17. Malden took another sip. He enjoyed the cold liquid, coupled with a relentless burn that reminded him of many victories before. This was the same drink he'd drunk on the fateful night Knightcorp became his.

    Malden continued to look out the window as he focused his thoughts. "The city of Calascen was born from dreamers. Masters of inspiration that came to start a new life. Because this was one of the first ports of Novaerica, there were many cultures and ideals and dreams that passed one another, all hoping to grow and flourish. That is how the Knight family began. They began as inventors, tinkerers that thought their gadgets and toys would make the world a better place. There was at one point this corporation used to have a toy factory, did you know that? Just up north a way is the old building..."

    Malden sighed. The drink was numbing his fear. "The Knights really did think that making the world more luxurious would make people want to be good. They really thought that giving people opportunities to do good would have them choose good."

    Malden put the glass down, a frown forming on his face. "The Knights were so immensely wrong. Nothing they've done has ended war. Nothing they've done has ended abuse, neglect, suffering. They still tinker and people pay them billions of dollars to... to waste."

    Malden shook his head, a small chuckle coming out of him. "You see, Evan, that is why they don't deserve anything they've been given. Because of their pride and the luxuries around them they've never understood what suffering there is out there. Even now, men, women and children are killed... That is why Knightcorp will win this Grail. Why I will make Calascen see what a true ideal is." It was hard to tell who Malden was referring to at this point. Whether he lost context to the Knights or not, it still seemed to fit his sentiment.

    Malden coughed. For a moment, it had sounded as though something had caught in his throat, as if he were choking on some non-existent object. As quickly as it had been let out, however, Malden had already suppressed it with a gloved hand over his mouth. A brief irritation flashed over his eyes before he calmed.

    He pulled the thin, glass-like device from his pocket and opened it to a series of pictures. Scrolling through quickly, he paused the screen on one in particular. He smiled. "Even now," Malden continued, "there will be the beginning of peace."

    Malden placed the device onto the counter, as well as both of his gloves. His ghastly darkened hands oozed with a strange black mist, although it hovered only centimeters from his skin. The mist seemed to agitate and calm in a series of waves. Malden looked at Evan with glazed eyes, although it would be hard to tell whether it was from becoming drunk this quickly or some other influence.

    "I'll be just a moment," Malden spoke, leaving Evan to his parting thoughts while he approached the elevator. Malden turned to face the doorway. Just before the elevator doors had closed, one could have sworn his countenance was anything but human.

    The phone stayed lit with its artificial light on the counter. The picture Malden had looked at on the device stayed staring with a soft glow. It was a mug shot. There were words under different brackets. One could clearly be read: Charges - Rape and first degree murder. Two victims, a mother and daughter.

    The phone darkened and the man's face disappeared.
     
  18. Faint, but definitely a firearm. Fighting already? This war was happening faster than she'd anticipated. Or rather, her subconscious plea for the war to already be over didn't like the idea that it was happening. And she's officially in the middle of it. Swallowing the sigh that threatened to betray her, Kalonia nods. "On it." Instinctively she goes for her gauntlets, fidgeting with the displays for the umpteenth time that day. Everything was ready like she knew it was, but there was always something reassuring about an LED display signaling a big 100%, or a big green "READY" or you know, generally uplifting information.

    The display changed to 99%. The sigh escaped.
     
  19. Llerse smirked at Assassin's question regarding the state of the building. He then gave a light chuckle before answering. "Blame me for letting the beasts run amok here one night while testing my summoning abilities. Or otherwise just whenever I feel like it." Almost as if on cue, there was a sound similar to that of a lowing. Llerse looked toward the other side of the room, toward another hallway.

    From it emerged a creature about three-fourths of the size of Llerse and Assassin. It appeared to have the body of a buffalo with a black coat and scales covering its back. Its head, which appeared to resemble that of a horned wild boar, appeared to be too heavy for it, resulting in it pointing downward toward the floor. It continued forward, giving neither of the two other individuals in the room its attention. "... Right, I forgot I still had a Catoblepas wandering about the halls..." Llerse muttered as he then snapped his fingers. The creature then glowed bright red, letting out a brief, agonizing lowing before dissipating.

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    Caster remained silent as she stared into the night sky, managing to listen to Malden through his entire speech. Throughout a lot of it, she could feel it. The slight twitching of the disguised eye on the back of her hand as its attention switched between the other individuals within the room.

    She remained silent for a moment after her Master had eventually left the room. It was almost an entire minute after that point that she chuckled.

    "Peace... I can't really tell if he's being serious or not..." Caster spoke. "But if he is, then who is he fooling? He speaks of how the Knights can't stop wars or the suffering of others. But really, what can he even do to stop that?" A pause as she shook her head. "If he's truly serious about his ambition, then he seeks something that is completely pointless. To conflict with others is just in the nature of every creature in the universe. Everyone must suffer in one way or another. And even if one found a way to stop that... Well, people will just find something else to fight about." At this point, she glanced back toward Evan. "In a way, that's basically why we Servants even exists in this war. Wouldn't you agree?"
     

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