sweethymns | ғaтe/alт.dιѕтorтιon

[ Ai's smile and acknowledgment is enough for him; any residual dubiousness about his enemy dissipates (whoever this is, he's honorable, yes; but with a slight teasing that he can't quite rest easily on), and his twin lances position themselves in the thin fog of the temple, cutting through it in gold-and-red lines of light. ]

Those blades... would it be safe to assume that my opponent is Saber?

[ He settles into something more familiar, like a hunting dog that's found a scent; eager to fight, but controlled. ]

As one Knight Class to the other; don't let my Master's loveliness distract you.

[ listen man he can do this teasing thing too!!!! ]

[WAIT WHY IS SHE THE ONE BEING TEASED HERE and now Ai feels her head SPIN when she hears what Diarmuid says.]

I-... Wha...!!

[But she snaps out of it because the sound of sharp metal is being unsheathed on the other Spirit's end.

A few long seconds pass and he grins at Lancer. And mockingly, under his breath he whispers...]

En garde.

[Fast.

He disappears. Ai Thao wonders if he actually drew his sword or not, but he's suddenly in front of Diarmuid, closing the distance and testing his opponent's mettle with his lightning draw.]

[ This, this is a lot easier to handle than all of the talking, in all honesty. His opponent is fast, but Diarmuid is also top-notch with respect to speed alone, not to mention that he also has experience with swords; he sees the incoming draw, knows how to block it from years of training.

A flash of red, and Gae Dearg catches the end of the other Hero's sword, while Gae Buidhe cuts a smooth arc from the side to his enemy's flank. It's a distinct advantage to having two weapons to work with, that he can defend and attack at the same time. ]

[Saber is able to avoid Gae Buidhe's reach, twisting around while parrying Gae Dearg. His second blade is concealed, but it looks like he plans to keep it that way for the time being, wanting to experience Lancer's strength, firsthand.

Damn, this is exciting. The Hero pushes forward, increasing his strength and as appropriate for a Saber, it's nothing to shake off. He is relentless.

As for Ai, she remembers Saber being the most well-rounded class in terms of overall stats. Diarmuid hasn't given her a reason to doubt his abilities and if anything, she just hopes as his Master, she provides the best of herself for his own strength.]

[ These are the moments when Diarmuid misses Moralltach and Beagalltach, but his twin lances are also practically extensions of his own body by now: the flurry of silver from Saber's blade come within millimeters of nicking him every time, but Gae Buidhe and Gae Dearg are always there to block and return before they can do any damage. In a way, Diarmuid is testing the enemy's speed as much as the enemy is testing his strength. If he gets accustomed to the speed, he's sure the battle will move more smoothly in his favor.

An upside to all of this is that the enemy Master hasn't made an appearance, or doesn't seem to want to. It's easier to fight when he knows that Ai isn't in any immediate danger.

Sinking down low, Lancer goes for the swordsman's feet, swiping with long legs to see if he can get the other down on the ground or up in the air— either way, a position that'd be more advantageous to him. ]

[Ai does wonder momentarily about Saber's Master; if he was one of the monks of the Temple, perhaps he preferred peace instead of a confrontation. It made sense in context. That aside, it had to mean he still had Command Spells... No, she won't fret about that for now. She's entranced with the battle between Servants. Diarmuid, taking the opportunity to have a clean fight with little to no pretenses was refreshing and she roots for him with all her heart.

Lancer's attack at his feet proves to be tricky for Saber. His sharp instincts tell him either way that his enemy will have the advantage so he needs to think fast. He decides to take to the air, leaping high up counting on some distance to give him time. A few seconds could make quite the difference; his hands are around his katana, the blade raised in the air as he prepares for another strike.]

[ This entire war is strange— it seems to have taken people who are completely disinclined to participate, as well as those who were unprepared but willing.

There's also something about this particular opponent that seems similar to Diarmuid, with regard to the fact that his objectives seem not to be about the war itself, but about being here. It's just a feeling, but it's enough of one that there's something humbling about it.

By the time Diarmuid swings Gae Dearg up, Saber's jumped out of his range; an impressive feat, all things considered. His lance cuts through air, vulnerable for a moment before its twin moves up to meet the katana straight-on, the weight of the blow pushing him down and sinking his feet into dirt. ]

✤✤✤

"So you won't appear before me again tomorrow?"

The "pious monk," only a young boy in training and barely hitting his teens looked up at this Heroic Spirit who had introduced himself several days ago. Saber had explained himself, the Holy Grail War, and his Master's role in it. But he had also mentioned that there was something wrong about the whole debacle. How this Fuyuki was not quite the same and that at any moment it was a world that could collapse unless the ritual was completed. But what a sordid ritual it was...

All things considered, his Master took this explanation calmly and rationally. No panic, no overreaction; Saber was relieved and impressed. This boy was no magus and if he was willing to exhaust himself for a fleeting wish... Thankfully this was not the case.

His Master had a good heart. Saber expressed his simple wish to take a look around at the current Japan he was in; whether it was real or fake, it was a reflection nonetheless and he wanted to see with his own eyes, the world he left behind after going back to France. He and his Master took in all the sights Fuyuki had to offer. The Master even gave the option of going back to the sites where Saber had been in his previous life, but he gently refused. This was more than enough. The Land of the Rising Sun could go on without him.

Back to the question. The boy and the Servant were sharing a cup of tea and looking up at the moon that shone on the temple.

"Oui. I have a feeling I will be facing my first and last opponent."

The boy's hands tightened around his cup, but he said nothing. His silence was enough; for several days he had been able to make a unique friend and the fact that he would have to disappear so soon was painful. But he accepted it. It was what Saber wanted. The Heroic Spirit chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair.

"My Master. I intruded upon your peaceful life and for that I truly apologize. I was not meant to last long though. Besides, I would like to go in a blaze of glory so to speak! I died much too peacefully for someone who fought in the Boshin War, only to go back to France imprisoned, pardoned, and dying normally."

"I know you have to go... And you deserve to go on your own terms. But... Is there a way? Any way I could help you?? If you're gonna go so soon..."

"... Well. You do have those Spells..."

"Tell me. Tell me how to use them and what you want me to use them for in your last battle."

✤✤✤

Edited (SPELLING AND GRAMMAR GOD) 2015-02-02 06:55 (UTC)

[Saber's strike is blocked and he jumps, skidding into the dirt backwards. But he rushes forward again in a blink of an eye, continuing with his relentless parries.

Ai feels her breath stop several times, her sight barely able to keep up with their moves.]

[ As much as he knows not to enjoy fighting for the sake of fighting, the rush of adrenaline and the hum of his own blood in his ears is a welcome change of pace; not because "kill or be killed" is his motto, but because he has genuine appreciation for someone with craft, someone with principle. His sincerity is his downfall, really— Diarmuid of the Shining Face, steadfast and trusting to a fault— and it's perhaps because he approaches these battles with all due seriousness that he contributes to his own demise.

Not today, though. Today, he doesn't intend to have those swords pierce his heart, no matter how much respect he may or may not have for his enemy. His lances flick through the air like bullets, heavy weapons handled as if they're weightless, but he's careful— he has a feeling that the other Servant still has something up his sleeve. ]

[Whether he does or not, it's safe to say that there's something rough about Saber's swordplay. He's strong and fast, but there's something unrefined about his style as if he's learning and adapting to the fight as it goes on. Normally, that would be the death of lesser fighters, but it seems he's got a handle on it so far.

As neither fighter is about to give in, Saber leaps back, sword poised in the air and with an all around genial expression on his face.]

... Diarmuid Ua Duibhne is it? I have to say, it pleases me to know I can have a fight with a dyed in the wool warrior.

[He caught on fast. Clearly, this Saber was someone who was born long after Diarmuid's era.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ai notices there's someone watching from afar in the safety of the temple building. At first she panics, thinking it's a normal passerby. It's a young boy though and he's keeping a firm eye on Saber, his hand gripping the wall tightly as if trying to decide what to do.]

... Is that??

[She murmurs to herself suddenly feeling uneasy. The boy ducks back into the temple to hide himself. Ai falls silent and then pulls her attention back to the two combatants.]

Edited 2015-02-04 00:40 (UTC)

[ Feet skid against the ground, and he rests for a moment with his lances poised on the ground. The fact that the other Servant knows his name now poses a mild inconvenience, but not enough that he feels threatened; a curl of his lips, and Diarmuid cants his head to the side in mind scrutiny. ]

I should be flattered that I have a reputation that precedes me.

[ A twirl of his lance, to point Gae Dearg at his opponent. ]

But this is far more convenient. It may be the rule of this war, but to be a knight without a name is tiring.

[ His gaze flicks towards Ai, just to make sure she's alright. ]

I struggle to think of another well known hero whose skills with his lances are matched by such a face that's been charmed by magic.

[When he sees Lancer glance over at his Master, he directs a wink towards Ai's way and without skipping he beat he jokes.]

Mademoiselle, fret not! I very much prefer you over him.

[HEY, HEY, HEY!! Ai's cheeks flare up and her expression is a mixture of annoyance and... Well. It's a compliment?? She could accept it?? Maybe?? He's teasing Diarmuid and her again!! But he's saying she looks nice sorta?? That's a nice thing she can't say she doesn't like... GODDAMMIT her cheeks puff up and she retorts.]

I-I...!! Just do your job!!!

[Saber laughs and faces Diarmuid, his katana gleaming in the moonlight.]

Your move, Monsieur Knight!

[Well, he's aggravating AND dangerous, what an irritating combination of a Servant! Despite his teasing and jest, he hasn't let his guard down at all and invites Diarmuid to take him on directly.]

Edited 2015-02-04 03:21 (UTC)

[ How is he supposed to take this seriously when his enemy is flirting with his Master!!! It's a good thing he's so dedicated, though, because aside from a raised brow and a sigh— yes, a sigh from Diarmuid himself— he doesn't comment, just takes a moment to look vaguely disapproving. He's not sure if the compliment is supposed to be patronizing or not... he should reasonably be offended if his Master is being spoken down to, but she answered the enemy Servant for herself, so it's not his place to make her arguments for her. ]

...If you're done.

[ He takes a deep breath, easing himself back into concentration (this guy makes it so hard). His eyes close for a precious moment— which may be foolish if his senses weren't so honed— and when they open, he's already moved, spanning yards in a second with one kick to drive his lance forward. ]

[Saber quickly blocks and his blade scrapes against his enemy's lance driving it away from himself. The blow is strong enough that it makes the earth around them scatter into pieces that fly into the air and he pushes forward with several more blows.

Ai's getting nervous, mostly because so far, Saber's been able to level the fighting ground. He's not overcoming Lancer, but he's not letting Lancer overtake him either.]

Lancer, please overtake him...!

Edited 2015-02-05 01:13 (UTC)

[ Lancer is making quick judgment calls, thinking in terms of overall Class ability. He knows that Saber outclasses him in terms of endurance, so he has to act quickly before his enemy wears him out; not something that'll happen easily, but a there is a definite possibility. The disadvantage is that Saber knows who he is now, and is doing a good job of avoiding attacks by Gae Buidhe. It's smart, but inconvenient.

He needs a moment. Just a beat, where he can worm his way in.

So, in an attempt to disorient his opponent, Diarmuid drops Gae Dearg: the clatter of metal against stone reverberates in the air, cuts through the sound of battle. ]

Ah!!

[Ai Thao lets out a sound of surprise, but she doesn't object any further than that. Diarmuid's sudden and unexpected move makes Saber back off a little and he frowns.]

Hmmm? Favoring one over the other now??

[Ai glances over at the temple doors instinctively. There wasn't any sign of the boy yet, but she couldn't be too sure.]

It isn't arrogance, if you suspect me of it.

[ But here's a little smile, entirely too self-assured for comfort. He stands his ground, neither moving forward or moving back, straightening his posture in a way that screams "come and get it".

After he does, though, he looks back towards Ai and lets his gaze fall into something more reverent. ]

—Don't doubt me, Master. By my name, this victory is yours.

[She gives him a firm nod. Whatever he has planned, Ai knows that he'll follow through and readjust accordingly. Saber isn't as settled and he narrows his eyes before making his move.]

Tch.

[He goes at Lancer again, his swordplay becoming more graceful and more dangerous. He wants to keep an eye at the spear on the ground, but he can't keep his eyes off of Diarmuid either. This is gonna be a tough one.

Meanwhile, inside the temple, his young Master is sitting with his back against the wall. His body is trembling and he has his hand clutching the opposite that holds the Command Spells. He knows that the Servant told him to wait for his signal before using a Spell. But he also knows that Saber went into the fight to die.

He thought he accepted this at first. But now that he sees the fight firsthand, he doesn't know what to do anymore. All he can do is wait, wait to see what signal Saber gives him.]

[ Let it be known that Diarmuid isn't above a little play in his fighting. While Saber comes at him, he occasionally toes his red lance with one foot, tapping steel against stone in time to the sound of their blades clashing: almost like a conductor with his baton. He's waiting for the right moment to jerk his foot down on the blunt end, to send the pointed end of the fallen lance up and into his opponent with a swift kick.

Until then, he taunts with Gae Buidhe, getting his enemy on the defensive against the effects of the cursed weapon. He only needs one second to turn the tide, and he feels like he's mounting towards it. ]

[Hah. Saber thinks this could be the consequences of his own mucking about so all he can do now is take what he dished out.

This is fine. He cannot see through Lancer's game right now, but whatever it was, he'd still direct this fight as much as he could. The Heroic Spirit will fight to the end without backing off; of course that's a tall order for someone who's on the defensive right now, what with the Gae Buidhe getting up all in his face.

Just a little more time and then he'll...]

❈❈❈

"First thing's first, Master. Stay hidden. I do not know what Masters are partaking in this War, but I do know that some will not hesitate to take each other out; even if they are young, such as you."

Saber's Master nods and continues to listen.

"What will the first spell be for, Saber?"

"Ah, I've been thinking ahead about that actually. And so, Master, for the first Spell..."

❈❈❈

[Steel clashes against Gae Buidhe, sounding more like cars colliding with each other and the noise echoes across the grounds.

Saber's face is determined, unafraid, and unyielding and he prepares to make the signal.]

"... And make that command once I take the first injury of the battle."

[ There's a moment of contemplation from his enemy, and Diarmuid takes that moment to open up a path for himself: slamming his foot down on the ground, he flips Gae Dearg up and off of its resting position, letting it arc in the air right towards his enemy's flank.

If he's lucky, it'll pierce, but he has a feeling that it's only going to make a light cut. Saber is impressive, especially when it comes to speed and reflexes. ]

[Saber should have seen it coming, but he barely dodges and he gains a large wound from his side (his Instinct is not as well honed as say another one from the class...)

He grimaces, but he stands his ground and backs off. Ai is relieved at first, seeing that Lancer delivered the first blow. But then Saber's eyes light up in determination and he shouts:]

UN!!

[Ai Thao blinks in confusion wondering what he could be shouting for...

The boy hears his Servant's call; he's injured and that shout was his signal. He closes his eyes and concentrates with all his might.]

Saber... I command you to draw your second blade... Then outmatch Lancer's speed and strike back!

[There's no way to miss that surge of prana that comes from the release of the spell. Ai gasps as her fear is realized and Saber grins despite the forceful compulsion he feels and the blood that drips from his side.]

As you wish Master.

[The second the blade is drawn, Saber has already rushed past Lancer. Rather than lightning, it was more akin to the speed of light. The command was as good as executed and Saber takes a beat before turning to see the results of his endeavor.]

[ Lancer may be fast, but there's a limit to how much he can reasonably respond to: the speed of light is unfortunately not, especially at this proximity. He hasn't lowered his guard, even with the slight victory of that earned fist strike, but a Command Spell is a powerful thing.

Instinct tells him that he shouldn't block, that trying will mean death.

So, instead of pulling his lances up to parry the blow, he attempts to jump back away from range, or as best as he can manage under the circumstances— he knows it won't be good enough, knows that that surge of prana isn't something to laugh about, and he isn't surprised when he feels the cold edge of a sword go cleanly through his side.

Ah, that'll sting. ]

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