sweethymns | ғaтe/alт.dιѕтorтιon

[ The addition of the music isn't half bad; a quick glance Lien's way, and Lancer picks up on the tune easily enough, whistling a few notes here and there as light feet bring him around the cafe, war-calloused hands lean against wood surfaces. For all that he is— a Servant, as undignified as the term may sound— he doesn't mind the transition from irregular to mundane. He's intimately familiar with it, after all.

This place is nice, he concludes. Not a very grandiose term, but he likes it well enough: it's quaint, quiet. The people are friendly, the coffee is good.

He thinks about how he can get used to this, but waves that thought away. Everything has its own time.

When the light through the window starts to redden, when streetlights turn on and curtains start getting drawn, is when Cu finally pulls his apron off and drapes it across his arm. ]

Not bad for a day's work.

[The number of customers have dwindled by then and Lien's wiping the last few tables in the back. At his assessment, she nods with a smile. Despite the long hours of work, her mood has actually improved.]

I'll say! You pretty much saved the day with the way you helped out.

[As pleasant as the day turned out to be there were other matters to attend to...]

Anyways, let's get changed and head on out.

Edited 2015-01-13 04:19 (UTC)

[ He hums a mild response, and quickly changes back into his civvies. Kaori-san gets a greeting and a word of thanks as he returns the apron, and a promise or two that he'll be back sometime ("don't sweat it, a lady who knows how to make good coffee is never a bad one in my book"), the rest of the staff get a few more brief but sincere words, and Cu is out of there like an errant squall: in and out, turbulent but no entirely terrible. ]

You work with some good people, you should take care of 'em.

Hm?

[She was fiddling with her long braid and was only partially listening until he mentions the last part.]

They're a nice group. I'm lucky to be working with them... So I guess I could.

[She looks forward and stretches her arms.]

I'm not staying in Japan forever though. I think I'll only be here in Fuyuki for about another year and a half before I go back.

[ She says that so flippantly that he's almost forgotten that it's easy for people to go from one place to another in this day and age; not that he's one to talk, with all of his own traveling, but. He always had Ulster to go back to. ]

Yeah? Any particular reason?

Well, limited time for one thing; and I do want to try and decide by then what I'd like to do in the long run.

[She takes off her glasses, polishing them on her jacket sleeve as if to distract herself.]

There are a few things I have in mind, but in the end who knows?

[ "Limited time". He snorts lightly at the idea, but doesn't look too perturbed or concerned, as if the concept is a faded novelty for him. ]

Soul-searching?

[ It's a light tease. ]

[There's a serious look as she thinks of an answer (although with Lien, sometimes you don't know whether she'll give a serious answer or go out of left field again)]

That's one way to put it. I'm not sure if it was anything fancy like that though. The opportunity to study abroad just happened to crop up and I seized the day. Gave it an extra good throttling.

[Okay, so both]

Hans Gruber style.

[ That's made his way into his lexicon, thanks Lien.

When he steps out, he throws his arms up and absorbs the cool air, drinks in the breeze, smells the faint salt of the ocean nearby; most in his element when he's closer to nature, really. ]

So, little miss— I'm ready to do my share of real work now.

[They really need to watch that movie sooner or later... Lien looks up at him and nods.]

You got it!

Let's head to the big bridge when it gets darker. Plenty of space to thrash around.

Don't sound too excited, you're the one they're going to go after.

[ It's only natural; Masters are easier to kill than Servants. Nothing about this is a picnic, but it's good that they're strategizing, and Lancer doesn't say any more about it as they make their way through Shinto, past quiet bars and dwindling figures. ]

Mm.

[Her response is minimal, but indicative of her understanding of the situation. Tonight, she hopes that Lancer wouldn't have too much about her safety.

〉〉

It's late at night. There are no more cars crossing the bridge and there are even less people. There's only the lights of the bridge and the minute light of the crescent moon that hangs in the air. It's late at night and said night is young.

Lien lets out a big yawn.]

Should've brought coffee with me. Going into battle without caffeine is a sin!

[ It's always a relief when night comes and the city gets quieter, when the wind is cooler and the sounds of motors and machines ebb to a dull thrum underneath the whispers of more familiar things. Lancer's never been too fond of Druids or mystics, but he has a feeling gets why they connect more intimately with the organic world; everything else is so impersonal.

He feels the concrete under his foot with a grind of his heel, sharpens his senses and hones in on the steady pulse that he feels just a few yards away. His tone, though, remains as benign as ever. ]

Do you always think with your stomach?

Now what gave you that idea??

[She asks oh so sarcastically. The amount of cars is now next to zero making the area eerily empty.]

Hm. So far, out of the classes we've encountered, there was a Caster, Berserker, and that Archer guy in the alternate world. That would leave Assassin, Rider, and Saber wouldn't it?

Well. Can't say for sure, since there are two Lancers around.

[ Meaning that he wouldn't be surprised if there were more doubles, or, well. It's something he should expect from this nonsense of a war. ]

Which class would you normally have the most trouble against?

[Honestly, she needs to get on the record with what her Servant is capable of especially now that she's more aware of what his identity entails.]

[ The temptation is real here to say "none", but that doesn't make for a very good battle strategy. So, after a tap or two of Gae Bolg against his shoulder, he states simply: ]

Caster or Assassin. Tricks and traps aren't exactly the way I like to play the game.

[ Ath nGabla aside, he's not big on using magic in combat... runes are different, okay!!! ]

Hm.

[She considers his answer for a second before replying.]

That scary lady who taught you though, wasn't some magic was involved?

[She remembers that woman in her dream whom many warriors including Cu Chulainn flocked to. Even if it was just a vision, just the sight of her made Lien think she was someone to be respected.]

Who, Scáthach?

[ "Scary", "strong as hell", "you wouldn't want to get on her bad side", etc. But more than that, he's fond— it shows in the way he laughs, exasperated as only someone can be when they're talking about someone that was important. ]

Yeah, she taught me things about runes, taught me spearmanship, gave me Gae Bolg. I didn't go there to learn magic exclusively, though.

[Lien is about to continue this conversation because it's pleasant, but as she opens her mouth, she pauses and looks up at the sky which was once clear, but now being obscured by clouds... And consequently, they're being surrounded by fog.]

... I see someone.

[At the other end of the bridge, there is a very tall and broad shouldered figure, standing perfectly straight and poised, with his arms behind his back. While his physique was already large it was also enhanced by the long black coat with a high collar.]

[ Well. The interruption has him flick his head towards the straight-backed figure who... he assumes is their enemy, unless normal people like to stand uninvited in the middle of a bridge. The size of the intruder isn't much of a threat— again, Scáthach comes to mind— but the openness with which they show themselves is.

He can't be too sure, not yet, but he draws a mental line through the word "Assassin" to cross that option out. Too forthcoming. ]

Your type, or no?

[She doesn't shoot back because the large man is approaching and she instinctively moves closer to Lancer. It has to be a Servant. He wasn't a maddened one, but Lien's sense of unease doesn't lessen. His strides were long and heavy and as he comes closer, there's a sense that this isn't his usual clothing.

Lien mutters to herself]

... Hiding something...

[But hiding what? The Servant stops, still a good distance away from the two of them, but enough so that they could probably hear each other and for Lancer and Lien to have a better look at him. His features were undoubtedly western and his hair was long and dark, tied into a ponytail.

He glances at Lien and then at Lancer.]

A brave little Master you have, Lancer.

[ A moment to size the enemy Servant up, and Lancer cants his head to the side, then to the other, stretching his neck the way a canine starts loosening its muscles before a sprint. ]

I can think of a few other things to call her.

[ A dry drawl, and an impatient tap of his foot. ]

But, hey— if you're gonna start making eyes, you're gonna have to ask me beforehand.

[Oh geez, THANKS.

Lien knows when to clam up though and just focuses on trying to figure out what class this Spirit is. And honestly, he's making it hard!]

Did you bring the fog with you? It's a neat way to hide from prying eyes, but you're just leveling out the playing field aren't you?

[Something about this guy wasn't exactly screaming Caster, but there have been bigger surprises. The Servant's lips twitch as if bemused.]

Mm. Sharp eyes too. But forgive me, when I say that it's a shame you can't see this ritual for what it actually is.

[His aura is suddenly enhanced and the force of it makes Lien flinch.]

In any case, my Master expects victory. If I feel you've it, perhaps I will shed more light on the situation.

You see what I have to deal with? Here I am with my lance, with my Servant Class out in the open, and then we have bastards like these.

[ Jerking a thumb towards the enemy, he nudges Lien a little to the back so she won't get in the way of any sudden movements he might make with Gae Bolg. It would be pointless for him to protect her while also injuring her in the process. ]

Save the talking for when I have your heart on spearpoint. I'll give you your last words then.

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