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Post by Artoria Pendragon on Jun 7, 2016 1:07:13 GMT
It was impossible to mask to the toll of the iron boots walking across the austere gray floor of the hallway. A ritornel of metallic clinks played with every step, heralding the slow march of a knight, lost in thought. Her jade-colored hues were slightly downcast as if watching the path she strode, yet unfocused and not quite serving their function. If she was aware of her surroundings, it was on an unconscious level. Her mind was elsewhere for the time being, coming to terms with the magnitude of the past few moments of her life—and death. She would stop in the middle of a hallway, having come to no destination; it was merely a pause to confirm something. Her left arm, encased in a steel-plated gauntlet that melded her outermost three fingers, weighed more than the entire length of her limb but was weightless to her... she stared into the reflective surface and concentrated, attempting something for the first time. As though her flesh and apparel was no more than an illusion, her hand would fade into the air up to the wrist, leaving a ghostly stub at the end of it. The hand was still there, and she could still see it even if it was invisible to the standard light spectrum. What had occurred was that she'd shifted the part of her body into mere essence, specifying her existence. "Then I have already resolved my wish..."Of course, the knight already knew this, as she could discover for herself by peering into her short-term memory. There were only hours necessary to count the time since she had in a sense obtained the Holy Grail by destroying it with her holy sword. Following that, she admitted confused feelings to an important person, returned to the stage of her final moments with her most loyal companion, and fell to sleep. Even if these events took place years or even ages in the past, her recollection of them was excruciatingly vivid and fresh. And so now, she returned to the world of the living as a complete Heroic Spirit, evidenced by her makeshift experiment. Her offhand fell back to her side, resting upon metal dress she wore. As she continued to walk the pathways for a seeming eternity, trying to find her way through the gargantuan compound with her instinct, her head was held high and her pace was steady and confident as was more befitting a knight of her stature. Her mind continued to race but at the least she would show her outside self proper. After all, the presence of hundreds of legends, myths, and heroic figures pushed against her awareness from all sides, making the air thick with vitality and power. Now that she was a Heroic Spirit, she had expected to be summoned back into the world, but it was no Holy Grail War that she partook in now... Chaldea, the organization that gathered Servants from all corners of the world's history and cultures, was that which summoned her. Their cause was just and she would fight for it as their sword, certainly, but the pact she had made was just not as familiar as she would have liked it. She fought in service to a faceless system, rather than to a single master. It was an arrangement she had always thought she would have wanted most of all, yet only recently realized she preferred it the other way. It was of no great consequence however; she had assented to her binding as a Heroic Spirit and had known the circumstances of the role beforehand. As far as goals went, the salvation of humankind was one she wouldn't hesitate to fight for. Her blade would not be dull, and her resolve would not be doubted. She marched down the hallway because she was sure of her route. It did not matter whom she worked for or with. It did not matter what she fought against either. She would see to her duty as the servant Artoria Pendragon. Yet, as she stood before her dormitory that slid open to her, she could only stay and stare into the empty room as though there was something missing. Even if she would fight for a new cause, her memories would remain.
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Post by King Atlas on Jun 7, 2016 2:45:55 GMT
Didn't matter who one worked with? Didn't matter who one fought against? Oh the sweet naivety of those who had not experienced the hell of Chaldea. Of course, when Artoria opened the door to her own room, it would indeed be empty. Mostly. Namely, there'd be a man in there, examining the room, as if plotting it out, taking a long drag from a cigar, holding a bottle of brandy in his grasp. At the sound of the door opening, he turned to face the newcomer. "Ohhhh, so you're our new arrival?" He'd heard. Really, ever since that idiot Augustus had been going around and spreading that idiot field, he'd been considering establishing Atlantis somewhere in here to try and push back. The best spot, was empty rooms. Taking a few steps towards the armored woman, he took a look at her. "Another one?" He remarked. He started considering all their Servants that had been summoned at Chaldea, and had come to notice a startling pattern between hair styles and facial structures. "This makes... number four I think?" Or was that five? There was evil Arthur, then little girl Arthur, and supposedly Okita Souji, though he'd yet to confirm that last one. Possibly Jeanne d'Arc as well, if the rumors were true. "And while I must admit the combination looks cute, I have to ask why the prevalence." Atlas narrowed his gaze, trying to tap at her chin to get a better look. He looked lost in thought as he intensely examined her for a moment before coming to his conclusion. "New one." He'd try, key word being try, to be polite. So he turned his head and exhaled his smoke into the room, instead of her face like he tended to do with other people. "Right then, which one are you?" He paused for a moment before looking at the bottle in his hand, holding it out. "Brandy?" tags: Artoria Pendragon notes: surprise motherfucker
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Post by Artoria Pendragon on Jun 7, 2016 4:31:44 GMT
Perhaps it was the utter density of spiritual pressure permeating the air that hid his presence, for a figure of gold loitered near the back end of the room, to her surprise. It was his aurelian luster more than the light of his cigarette that caught her eyes so quickly, and the specific color elicited an involuntary tension of her muscles compounded by a series of unpleasant memories. It lasted for only a second, but was there, and would likely be misinterpreted by the stranger she gazed at now. That being said, the moment he opened his mouth she already found her distaste creeping back up her throat like bile. There was no clear rhyme nor reason, but she had a natural sense for things such as this. Artoria was a king used to conducting with others who claimed the same title, and she knew of their seemingly ubiquitous nature. Despite the the room's ownership being granted to her, the man held himself in a way that wanted to suggest otherwise. It was only the first Servant she'd met, but he gave her a clue of what trials lie ahead. In response, she could only take a stoic approach to a presumptuous attitude; her surprise gave way to cool enmity, with an expression hardened into unyielding seriousness. "That is odd... I do not recall them speaking of a chamberlain to welcome me."It was a matter of course his fingers were unable to come into contact with her skin, though she did not cede any ground to him to prevent him. Her arm knocked his away, and she held it steady between them as a silent threat. "And I neither comprehend the nonsense you are speaking of. I am Sa—" she began, but broke off suddenly as she considered what she should have herself be called. This was not a Holy Grail War and thus the significance of the seven classes has far degraded. There were likely hundreds of others who could be called ' Saber' and the stratagem of hiding one's own name was moot as they all shared the same side. And yet... "No, that is correct. You may call me Saber." As the words left her lips, she felt certain of her answer. It was not that she felt shame for her name of Artoria Pendragon—that would be impossible for a knight like her—but after her time as a Servant, she felt a strong preference for being referred to as her class designation. It was short and simple, much to her liking. She answered to the name so many times over that it could easily be treated as a second name. Yes, she would be known as Saber here just as well. "Now—I ask—why are you here in the room entrusted to me? I have no wish for liquor or tobacco; I certainly didn't request any before arriving here. If it was a reception you wished to give, certainly there were more seemly ways to go about it than this?"
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Post by King Atlas on Jun 7, 2016 5:12:20 GMT
Goddammit, he was forgetting Nero and Mordred too. That made her the sixth one to share those features. This was not helped at all when she decided to simply refer to herself as a Saber. Goddammit. Literally all of the others had been summoned as Sabers then. Atlas's eyes narrowed slightly, though not in hostility, but in a more incredulous manner. "Well, fine," He huffed, as if pouting at this. "I'll just be Lancasaber then." Perhaps she did not know of ascensions, then she would learn. She would also learn of the term "gross amalgamation" that Mordred had so nicely coined for him. As she slapped his arm away, he frowned. "Rude." He breathed out, the smoke trailing from his lips. Tapping his cigar lightly, he watched as the ashes fall to the ground. "Anyway, don't worry about it. I'm just sort of setting up some things here. Probably a base. That idiot Augustus wants a turf war, he's got it." Not like he could run up to Augustus and just jam his foot in the Roman's crotch. That would be considered violent and thus not allowed. "Ours is the fury or something like that. I really wish we had a cool motto for my nation, but no, never really thought of one."And wait, she called his words nonsense! Rude, ruder, and rudest! He sighed a bit before taking a drink. This wasn't going to end well, he could already feel it. "And I don't speak nonsense. There are five other Servants here, or were here, who look exactly like you. Hair and facial shape. All Sabers. Looking at you, you're literally one of them just wearing blue instead of red." He shook his head. "I digress, there was stuff in here but I moved it out, why, do you need something here?" tags: Artoria Pendragon notes: --
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Post by Artoria Pendragon on Jun 7, 2016 6:09:22 GMT
Saber's expression turned to one of incredulous dissatisfaction at his response, Lancasaber, placing a hand on her hip as if to say 'Really?' Whereas her answer was born out of a strong connection to and fondness of her class, the golden servant's coagulation of syllables was but a mockery of that, doubtless a hastily constructed term. "That is not funny," she stated curtly. She didn't even think to investigate further into the meaning of it based upon the lack of sincerity he had delivered it with. Perhaps had he spoken his true name to her, Saber would be honor-bound to do the same by her code of the knight, but the opportunity was now lost along with her favor regarding a joke like that. "You cannot expect me to refer to you with that moniker... Please do provide another more suitable name for me, or else I will not have a name to call you by."The words that came after were worth listening to, however, as they held bits and pieces of information about the organization she was working within. Even though he was taking the matter lightly, Saber adjusted herself into a more serious stance. Split factions within Chaldea? The King of Knights was no stranger to that type of ordeal, and it brought no pleasant feelings. If there were different sides fighting against each other, Saber would be one to choose a side she believed in, and resolve the situation as quickly as possible, by whatever means necessary. Should it be diplomacy, or merely cutting down each enemy, she would eventually resolve the situation as she had in the past. Thus, this knowledge imprinted upon her mind moreso than anything else that the golden servant had said. Perhaps she would press further into the matter... ...But later. For now, she had only just arrived, and her concerns lied with settling into Chaldea. The first step of that process was claiming the dormitory that has been given to her. "Then allow me to be frank: This is my living quarters, and mine alone. I do not wish to have one so lacking in basic decorum to reside within it." As if to make a point, she stamped her foot down close to his... only to draw his attention down to the waste that fell from his cigarette as she swept it out of the doorway with a brush of the armored boot. This evidence was one of several factors leading to Saber's animosity despite their first meeting, this display of disrespect. His accusation fell flat upon the floor in wake of his own ill-mannered actions. Crossing her arms expectantly, she moved to the side to allow passage. "We may resume conversation once you have stepped outside," she declared, matter-of-factly.
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Post by King Atlas on Jun 7, 2016 6:38:21 GMT
At the demand that he leave her room so they could continue your conversation, Atlas didn't budge. The cigar caught between his teeth, he put his free hand on his hip and just chuckled at Saber. "You're just gonna slam the door the moment I walk out." He stated. After all, he had no idea how honorable this woman was, and he knew from experience that people here would usually give a little leeway with him, and then promptly shut him out from... whatever it was that they were doing. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" It wasn't a threat. It didn't even sound like a threat. Stepping over to the other side of the door, he casually leaned against the door frame. They'd have their talk here, he wouldn't budge. He'd just ignore that tone in her voice. He was pretty sure he could get her attention anyway. "The organization you're a part of has absolutely no discipline. In fact, the disciplinary officer regularly straps people to tables and dissects them." He held up one finger. Celenike had... problems. She was insanely gorgeous, but all those problems... if she were more normal he was pretty sure there'd be a Celenikebowl. "The place is run by drunks."He held up a second finger. "Property damage is constant and almost never fixed." He was pretty sure that hole Nero created to do... whatever it was with Astolfo was still there. Nevermind the lounge. No one cared. He held up a third finger. "They take no consideration as to whom they pair others up with. More than anyone else, I have been paired up with that red Counter Guardian asswipe who shot me in the face." He paused for a moment. Yeah, he said way too much there didn't he? Welp, he figured it was inevitable, so he continued. "In life, that is. He screams and runs like a terrified child when I so much as look at him here." That still amused him. Taking a drink of his brandy to wet his mouth a little bit, he ran a finger over the cigar before putting it away, having done something to put it out. With that, he held up a fourth finger. "Chaldea, is also legendarily incompetent. Let me give an example." This example was already public knowledge anyway, despite his explicit instructions to burn the goddamn report and destroy all evidence, so what point was concealing it, or trying to conceal it from someone else? "Five Servants went on a fake camping trip in virtual reality as a team building exercise, no real danger, nothing," He snorted. "Two still died, yes, actually died for real, from accidental collisions with freak meteors." Well, okay, one did. The other was stabbed, but still! It was an embarrassment. "All of that is causing... opportunistic Servants like Augustus to rise up and try and take control of the place." He pointed at Artoria, "You, my little lady, have stepped into hell. You'll deny it, but it'll sink in after about three days, it always does." They all denied it. Said it wouldn't be that bad, that it would be different, and that they would make it right, but they never did. Reaching out a hand to shake, he did fulfill at least one of her wishes though. "I'm Atlas, King of Atlantis and King of Legends. You said you wanted something to call me? Pick one." tags: Artoria Pendragon notes: --
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Post by Artoria Pendragon on Jun 7, 2016 8:30:01 GMT
When he announced his assumption that she would shut the door between them in the middle of their conversation, Saber's serious face broke into one of surprise for a brief moment, once again taken aback by the man's words. The thought had never even crossed the knight's mind, to do something so rude. However, that shock would soon fall away as she glowered at him, indignant about having suppositions like that pushed against her. Perhaps he misunderstood her sternness for another more disagreeable trait? "I am no such person! I would not go against my given word, by the code of chivalry. That is the way of the knight."She allowed her arms to fall to her sides once more, creating a jangle with the loose metal pieces of her armor plated over her blue dress. Saber honestly expected that if not her name was gleamed from her appearance, that her status as a knight would be pronounced, and there were certain mainstay attributes indicated by her knighthood as a result. Even if she found the person in front of her less than appealing at the current point in time, she would not disgrace herself out of any degree of bitterness. The richly woven fabrics and the unparalleled metalcraft of her battle armor should have carried these self-evident truths to others on their own. Even if she found little beauty in her self as a woman, she never doubted her radiance as a knight. If he did not see it, then she would make this clear to him in words. And if he still did not realize it, then she would surely challenge him to a duel on the spot for the sake of her pride. But before she could speak, the golden servant breached a new subject all of a sudden. The shift was so jarring that Saber was caught off guard, left in confusion as he elaborated on his meaning. Of course the King of Knights was just a newly-summoned heroic spirit, with much to learn about the group known as Chaldea that had brought her to this time, and the others that she would be serving alongside. It was not quite a priority for her, but she was curious. An agent of organization in question spoke out on the inner coils of the machine, and she was thankful for it. His explanation would surely help her assimilate into the system and fulfill her role. Yet his outlook on this organization was bleak, pointing out all of the shortcomings and faults ridden within. He spieled about a broken machine very different from what the magnificent cutting-edge structure seemed to boast from appearances alone. He said, Chaldea is incompetent; undisciplined; disorganized; a place fallen into anarchy. It was as if to suggest the lofty goal Chaldea had set was much too ambitious to achieve. This was likely his way of warning the woman so to be on guard about this place, and for that, she silently thanked him with her eyes. With one gaze she made it clear she believed him, and understood his intent. But... "...So what?" she inquired, her voice released in such a stiff and controlled manner that her gender could be in question. "Even if my master is inadequate, my sword will make up for the difference. Even if my allies are aligned against me, my sword will cut them down. My objective has been made clear, so I will fight for it. This seems like the obvious course of action..." Truly, this was Saber's thought process, laid out plainly and simply. She believed that the path was a straightforward one and it was no fault of Chaldea's if others did not see it that way. Chaldea had a goal in mind when it had summoned the servant Artoria Pendragon, and considering the stakes of that goal, it would be impossible for her to refuse. If there was someone who took the survival of mankind lightly, or worse, dared to oppose it, then the fault was no one's but their own. Those people would be enemies of Saber, without a doubt. "Wait... Atlas? A king, or a god?" Saber was unsure she heard correctly, if Atlas was truly the name of this heroic spirit. Atlas was a legend from long before her own time, not only portrayed as a God, but as a Titan, from before the time of divine beings such as gods. If that was the case, then this servant broke the rules of a Heroic Spirit that Saber had come to understand. Perhaps this Atlas was another legendary spirit than the one she knew of; one that fit within the bounds of a Holy Grail's summoning. If not, then it suggested that Chaldea's capability was far greater in scope than she could have imagined. "Then, Atlas, I must admit my respect for your mythic origin, and the feats you have accomplished.
...
But that does not change my stance, please step outside of my living quarters."
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Post by King Atlas on Jun 7, 2016 8:59:48 GMT
When Saber completely dismissed every single problem that was presented. Atlas didn't say anything, only began to down the brandy as he let her talk. It was going at an extremely quick pace as well. So much so that, when Saber had finished, Atlas lowered the bottle, noting that it was completely empty. He might be needing another one, he concluded. Dismissing the bottle, as much as he'd love to smash it, he responded. "You say that." He pointed a finger, before diverting the topic for a moment. "But first I'll answer your second question; both. Neither. It's complicated."Deciding to trust her, he walked outside the room. He made a silent note that if she slammed the door he would destroy it and then proceed to wreak havoc on her room, protocol be damned! "Poseidon was my dad. I'm a demi-god. But when I led the gods you would call the Titans against the Olympians, I was labeled a Titan like the rest and sealed away for a thousand years until Herc freed me." The Atlantean Overlord with nine brothers and the Titan were the same being, true, but the situation was a bit more complicated. "My only crime was trying to free humanity from Zeus. It's also what got me killed by that red asshole. Atlantis was sunk and its entire people massacred because I tried to do the right thing." He shrugged with a sigh. That being said, he crossed his arms, and gave something of a soft smile at her words, leaning against the wall outside her room. "But, thank you. You are literally the only one with any respect." He muttered before his smile turned into a frown. "Now, our prestigious Masters..."He raised a finger. "I'll start with three. The first is Celenike Yggdmillennia. Our disciplinary officer and the only Master allowed to carry Command Spells outside of a mission. Instead of saving the world, she straps us, and other Masters, to an operating table and dissects them. Sometimes alive for Servants, no anesthetic." Although maybe there was a part of him that would be sad if she died or something. Then a second finger. "Then there's Natasha Pajari. At some point, fucking Merlin just up and lets her fall into a river packed with some really nasty curses, which infect her and is slowly corrupting her soul. Merlin could have cured her at any time and didn't because 'science.' On a mission, I beg her to get herself purified and in return, I offer to cure her blindness. What does she do? Blow two Command Spells to make me kneel. Mordred'll corroborate that if you can find him." Of course, Atlas had no idea of the gravity of the names he was dropping, but he was only telling the truth as he knew it here. Finally a third finger. "Then there's Rin Tohsaka. Remember what I said about respect earlier? Guess who I'm talking about. She has, on multiple occasions, openly mocked the Atlantean genocide, to my face no less, knowing that I can't really do anything about it because Chaldea clamps down on me whenever I try to defend myself."Lowering his hand, he was done. "It's not only incompetence. It's sheer malice." tags: Artoria Pendragon notes: --
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Post by Artoria Pendragon on Jun 9, 2016 11:02:12 GMT
There was a sense of relief that fell upon the woman as Atlas finally bequeathed her own room to her, stepping out of into the hallway. A symphony of metal rustling would sound as she strode inside in turn, like a mirror reversing his movements. Once the two heroic spirits had swapped positions, the conversation would resume, and the door would remain ajar as promised. While Saber always attempted to keep to her word in times trying, this trivial pledge was assured. Under the brighter lights of the hallway, the golden servant seemed to shine even moreso, disallowing Saber from doubting his rank if she had before. It was like her own Charisma; an unnatural glow that persisted through every action she made, even if that be the act of inaction. It was not that Saber forced herself to move with grace and beauty, but rather that she could not move without those traits. They were ingrained as habitual to her; a natural flow that took effort just to stray away from. Atlas was the same; even though he intoxicated himself and besmirched her floors, he couldn't help the glow he exuded—not a literal luminescence, but something invisible and intangible. Still, his shine was different from hers, stained with the divinity of the gods as he said... While her own status as a king prevented her absolutely from deferring to any higher sovereignty, Saber could only acknowledge the greatness of the man before her, and not with any disdain or shame. He spoke of gods as family and humanity as one single whole. He shrugged, and uttered these things as a figure clearly above them. His world was much bigger than the land of Britain, the land she had committed her life to saving. The only similarity between them is that they both had failed in the end... But the past was the past, and it couldn't be changed. Someone once told her that. It was only natural that his recounting of his tragedy was brief. The conversation moved on, and Saber noted for the second instance in a short amount of time that Atlas had brought his hand between them to count numbers off of his fingers. He was listing off some of the Masters present in the Chaldea compound. Saber was not deceived into believing that the man's point of view was free of bias; there was certainly a negative spin tainting his words. For the first few names mentioned, Saber was on the precipice of speaking up as if to defend them, but maintaining silence in the end. She would resolve to acquaint herself with these people and make judgments for herself. It was the last three names that surprised Saber, going as far to cause visible reactions from her. Each resulted in a tension through her muscles greater than the last, eyes widening and lips opening to release a quiet gasp by the time he finished. Merlin. Mordred. Tohsaka Rin. She knew them all personally from different times in her past, and all of them brought a different emotion from the others. Merlin? Atlas' description of him sounded off. Mordred? ...Too many conflicting thoughts to process her right now. But perhaps most of all, Tohsaka coming from his lips shocked her most of all. It made her realize something she had not yet questioned, but here she would: "Atlas, what is the date? I've been summoned but never thought to ask what year it is. The last time I was in this world was AD 2004. If the present time is close to that then..." Then, what? Merlin and Mordred were two people Saber could only expect, and honestly should have expected if she were to be honest with herself. Chaldea has the capability to summon them all; every heroic spirit. However, if she was not far from her time in Fuyuki, then... Then this Tohsaka Rin that was mentioned and the Tohsaka Rin she knew were one and the same. Then Emiya Shirou could still be alive. Immediately, by her draconic will, the fleeting hope was crushed and stifled back into the depths of her core. It had not even been a day. She couldn't allow herself to cling onto such a delicate and uncertain thread.
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Post by King Atlas on Jun 9, 2016 20:10:42 GMT
Atlas quirked a brow at her question. Well that gave him some information about her then, so it wasn't like he was completely flying blind anymore. "2004? You must have been in the Fuyuki Grail War." So she was one of the seven Servants then. Shuffling his hands into his pockets, he answered. "But to answer your question; 2016. The Mayans were off by 4 years." He smiled, finding his own joke rather humorous. In a way, a lot of people would probably be feeling some form of vindication if they bought into that crap. The Mayans were just damn good astronomers, and that was coming from the God of Astronomy. Of course, a thought occurred to him. What was this woman's relation to Rin? Couldn't have been her Servant, so someone that must have known Rin at some point. Well that didn't really help now did it? But the possibility of another reason was there too... Atlas's eyes glazed in thought for a second before the spark returned. "So yes, it's that Rin. If it's because you're hoping to hook up with her, good luck. You're in a free-for-all with half of Chaldea over that one." It was a logical conclusion. Most of Chaldea, admittedly him as well, had been fighting for her, so this newcomer who knew her getting involved was logical. "The other half's fighting over Emiya." He absentmindedly quipped, completely unaware of the sheer gravity of what he had said, which was... not very much. He wasn't talking about the redhead, oh he'd heard that Shirou was here somewhere too, but he was referring to the Counter Guardian, and admittedly, he could see it. The man was tall, tan, and handsome, even with that idiot hair. It really needed to come down. But really, he'd brought that up because it'd reveal the sadness of the division within Chaldea. Not only was everyone divided over turf, but they were divided over a boy and a girl. Sonna bakana. He wasn't sure if he should tell her where their current Grand Order was... it might be best to lay off that one for now. tags: Artoria Pendragon notes: --
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