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Post by King Atlas on Mar 15, 2016 5:12:15 GMT
Well. That worked. He guessed. Granted, now the Shining Shouter was even closer, which made Atlas even more uncomfortable. The worst part was he didn't even look good. It'd be different if that wasn't the case, but those goddamn bug eyes were just not helping at all. "Yes. grope. The man wanders the halls of Chaldea, Robert Loxley wears armor with green... damn near everything, actually. You can usually find him around a tanned man in red with spiky white hair. The red man is the one who tried to proposition her with vulgarity, by the way. 'How would you like to see the bone of my sword?' stood out." Really, if he was going to put one through hell, might as well drag the other with them. Raising a finger up in an informative manner, he continued to "The red man is in the kitchen, so best to start there. Robert won't be too far behind once you find him. A veritable pair of Christmas Knights those two are." Christmas knights, he rather liked the sound of that. Yes, that was how he would refer to that pair from now on, the Christmas Knights. Man, Atlas was just a naming machine today. Maybe some Servants should ask him to name their Noble Phantasms, give them something that was actually cool. But now, he needed to sell it. Taking both of his hands, he placed them on the bug man's shoulders. "Now go! Bring down the holy wrath of God himself upon those who would dare sully the honor of La Pucelle! Every moment they go without punishment, they get away with the crime of sacrilege! Viva la France! Viva la Jeanne!" He roared, trying to get the Shining Shouter hyped up for this mission, letting out a war cry as he pointed in the direction of the Chaldea entrance, shooting the other knight a brief grin of victory. tags: Gareth , Gilles notes: oh god he smells
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Post by Gilles on Mar 17, 2016 3:17:26 GMT
Without a moment's hesitation the Saber in a Berserker's skin finally pushed away and began to charge away towards the direction of Chaldea. His will was resolute and his decision firm. Any and all who dare to desecrate the great name of the Holy Virgin would meet his full on wrath.
He was but a humble knight who did not deserve such kindness, such peace, such love, such devotion; and she was a savior who put her life on the line for the country she loved so much. If anyone, ANYONE, dared to desecrate her name they would soon regret the folly of their actions.
Shouting once more into the winds he thanked the one who had given him such valuable information as he began to disappear out of view.
It was about time those foolish Servants realized who not to mess with.
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Post by King Atlas on Mar 17, 2016 5:37:55 GMT
And it worked. Without even another word, the man just let out a cry and ran back into Chaldea to unleash what Atlas imagined would be some attempt at a righteous fury. Of course, whether or not the man succeeded, Atlas didn't care. If he succeeded, then maybe those two fucksticks would be out of his life. If not, then at least he had ruined that particular day for them. No matter how things went, he considered it a blatant win. Atlas kept a straight face as he watched the man run inside. Well, that left just him and this... who the fuck was this guy anyway? Just looking at him gave the impression of "Nobody: The Heroic Spirit." It was one of those moments where you doubted that the throne was impressive, and was hilariously fallible. It didn't stop his kingly composure from cracking as he started laughing. "... By my old man's beard, I can't believe that worked!" It was rude of him to just completely hijack the conversation and leave the Black Brooder alone. Although one could probably only brood alone, so maybe he had in fact, saved him. Still, he could at least try to strike up a conversation, and if he got asked to leave, then oh well. "Those two assholes are in for a surprise, and about goddamn time." Chaldea wouldn't let him just run in and beat the everloving hell out of the two of them, so he had to get clever. "So what are you doing out here? Aside from brooding?" tags: Gareth notes: rip in piece christmas knights
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Post by Gareth on Mar 18, 2016 7:26:48 GMT
Gareth had been watching in such utter silence as the two men talked over things he couldn't understand, that Atlas' sudden words directed towards him startled the knight a bit. Green eyes blinked a few times before realizing it was he who was being talked to, pointing an index finger onto his own chest before actually reminiscing a few seconds back in time to catch his words properly. Having flown too far back in time, Atlas' words of self-congratulation interested him more than anything.
"I'm simply dealing with the Throne's knowledge. I have become aware of the events that resulted in my and from my death, and that has put me in a great deal of stress."
Undying sincerity. A slight British accent - far from the way he originally spoke, yet how the FATE system had chosen to adapt his tongue to the modern version of his original language - and an upright bearing that screamed a court education. Obviously a knight of Avalon, Gareth made no attempt to hide the fact before continuing.
"Why did you claim you couldn't hold belief in a plan finding success?" He tried to analyze the other blond's earlier acts, but found neither rhyme nor reason in them. They talked of events and people Gareth had no knowledge of, and thus could hold no cemented opinion in. Still, this man's semantics clearly implied a darker undertone to his earlier statement. "Could it be you fooled that poor man, using a false harassment of his apparent beloved to impose rage on undeserving targets?"
Awfully long way to put absolutely everything - definitely an Arthurian knight.
"Explain yourself, stone-thrower." The son of Lot rose up, eyes switching between the disappearing silhouette of Gilles and the odd Servant dressing modern clothing before him. "What is it that transpired here?"
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Post by King Atlas on Mar 18, 2016 23:42:57 GMT
"Brooding, got it." Atlas interjected. Really, he could have just used that one word and saved the rest of his breath. But there was still the fact that this man was getting rather accusatory. But why did he claim that he couldn't believed that it worked? Well, there was the simple fact that most people don't really listen to Atlas. That much was true, but, "Because most people don't scream and then run off immediately to go kill someone." And what the hell. "Also no one ever really cares what I have to say so more often than not, I'm wasting my breath."It had its merits though. At least when he wanted Atlas time, he got Atlas time. Didn't have to worry about being harassed or bothered. Still, accusing him of lying? That was! Okay that was probably totally true. But still! No point in admitting that. "I didn't lie. I merely exaggerated. Slightly. The man in red really did speak of the bone of his sword and anyone could see the bulge in Loxley's pants whenever he shot googly eyes at her, groping her with his eyes." Of course, he might have been stretching the limits of the word exaggerate, but still, no law said you couldn't exaggerate the meaning of exaggerate. Making an evil finger pyramid, he smirked in victory. "Also they killed me so I'm pretty sure they deserve it. Chaldea just shits itself whenever I try to bring it up with those two, so I'm trying something more subtle." They totally deserved it. And Chaldea really did panic whenever he tried to do anything more than a light tap. It was like they considered him such a danger that they had Masters watching him 24/7 just in case he stepped out of line or something. Getting command sealed into pacifism wasn't fun the first time. "Furthermore, that was a tiny pebble. You don't want me throwing stones." tags: Gareth notes: "you lied" "i implied"
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Post by Gareth on Mar 26, 2016 10:51:17 GMT
Then he had lied! And upon his pride as a knight, he could not let a strife-maker go unpunished like this! With no time to entertain idle thoughts, Gareth spared none to consider if he was doing this out of sheer boredom, or perhaps to stave off the uncomfortable realization upon his status post-mortem, the fate of his friends and enemies and the mere, tiny smear that his name had left in history. Yes, it is best to forget, to distract himself with such useless pursuits of valor in some vapid attempt to find a reason to go on after this shitshow Chaldea had so endearingly called, a Grand Summoning, as it were.
A sword, oversized and adorned most lasciviously in gold and blue, materialized in his hands in a stark contrast to the black and crimson so prominent in his armor. "Thou art a foul knave, inciting an innocent knight with your misleading drivel!" He summoned every little degree of pitch his voice could muster in an attempt to make it more pleasantly resonate against the wind, instead sounding more like what he truly was, a very very young man trying his best to sound two decades older than he'd died. "On that knight's honor, I challenge thee!"
There was still a chance at redemption, here. Should his skills easily match against these so called kings and legends, or mayhaps even surpass them, there would be no reason for his melancholy. After all, the Arthurian knights were the greatest to ever live - and while it would still leave sour tastes in his mouth should Mordred still surpass him in swordfighting, Gareth could live with being second place, rather than the last position that his mind had now settled in.
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Post by King Atlas on Mar 26, 2016 18:13:15 GMT
Fucking really? He just explained that he couldn't do it himself without Chaldea panicking and this guy was here accusing him of being a swindler?! The gall of some people, really. Atlas's face contorted into a scowl as he glared at the black knight. "As I said, I exaggerated." With those words, fire shot out from around him. It wasn't exactly high thaumatergy, so there was no need to chant. To be honest, it barely qualified as thaumatergy. He was just blowing fire around the two of them in the general area to briefly melt the snow for a bit, which was quickly achieved. "But I don't think you care, nor are you going to stop." He summoned Poseidon, grasping the iconic golden trident in his hand. Normally he'd just rip the moisture out of the air to make a small trail, but the fact that they were now surrounded a what Atlas considered to be quite a lot of water, that was different. Instead the now unthawed water rose, surrounding Atlas on nearly all sides. If this man wanted to fight, then he would get his fight, and Atlas would end it as soon as he possibly could. He'd yet to meet someone who could survive a direct hit from Poseidon, he had his doubts this one could as well. But he wasn't exactly kill happy. No, there were only two people that were here that could be said he wanted dead. The truth is he'd rather not even have this fight. "Still, this is your one chance to back off. You're not on my shitlist, and I'd rather not put you there, but I will defend myself if you attack me. Force to meet force." The fight was pointless. He was partially hoping that a show of force would jolt the guy's senses and he'd just drop the matter. He really, really hoped that it wouldn't come to violence, because he saw no way to be a smartass like with Julie. And he'd really rather not kill someone. tags: Gareth notes: can't have anything nice
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Post by Gareth on Apr 2, 2016 0:36:28 GMT
Gareth of Orkney had one tale to his name, one he held close to his heart as it was the very anchor that kept him in this world. The story of how a patient, hardworking one man withstood abuse mental and physical for two years for the sake of a dream, a dream of knighthood.This pure, nearly saintly disposition kept him from straying from the path of valor, in the end earning him a spot in the famed Round Table. It was said not even a hellspawn designed for the feat of annoy him could succeed, so angelic was his temper.
Unfortunately, the Grail had chosen to summon Gareth from the worst day of his life. To be precise, the day he died.
It'd been a bad day.
Thus, Gareth had been finding every excuse in his head to fight this golden git, justifying his deeds are beyond villainous despite something his normal self would've defined as a situation he didn't comprehend fully yet. This man was obviously cruel, setting off some unknown man against some unknown foe, using terms maybe somewhat exaggerated to achieve his goals, and that somehow constituted something beyond his most wicked of dreams! Which name could such a villain bea-
The Trident of Poseidon.
The Throne had filled with much knowledge, some he cared not for remembering, some that had burnt an impression in his mind carved so deep the mere sight served to overwhelm him. Such things were usually weapons - the light of Excalibur, the spear that pierced Christ, and now, the fork that he observes so intently. A monarch of Atlantis...
A city cast down by its sins.
"Ruler of Atlantis!" He exclaimed with newfound excitement, manifesting his weapons - the lance of Ser Kay in one hand, a gigantic adorned sword in the other, a shield strapped to that hand's forearm. "I, Gareth of Orkney of the Round Table, Leader of the Order of the Rainbow, Son of Lot and Morgause, will be your opponent!" A king! Everyone would have to recognize his might should he defeat a king of the Sunken City is honest combat. After all, he never did get to fight Lancelot or Arthur proper - who knows how his might actually measured up?
"Come at me!"
Said the knight, inviting his foe.
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Post by King Atlas on Apr 2, 2016 0:56:40 GMT
Atlas's face had a look that could describe nothing other than sheer shock at the moniker of "Ruler of Atlantis." He looked at the Knight, before looking at his Trident. Pointing a finger at the trident, he gave the knight a bewildered look, as if he couldn't believe that someone had actually recognized the golden trident. He'd known this thing was supposed to be one of the most famous tools of all Greek mythology, and the amount of golden sea themed tridents in all mythology was rather low, but it was something that he noticed that no one had recognized. Atlas would've been beside himself with joy if it wasn't for the situation at hand. His look of bewilderment shifted into a deadpan sort of disbelief and disappointment. He was really gonna do this. He even got into it and introduced himself. Atlas blinked at the declaration. ... Who the fuck was Gareth of Orkney? He drew on all the knowledge of the throne, and he was practically drawing a blank here. But here was this asshole calling himself a knight of THE Round Table. Everyone knew who Lancelot and Arthur were. Hell, even Gawain and Mordred had some notoriety, but who the hell was this? Now this man was challenging him to a fight that Atlas saw absolutely no way for the man to win, what was he to do? Atlas just stared. Then he just pointed his Trident forward. All the water that he had been gathering flowed forth as a literal tsunami. A massive wall of water raced towards at blinding speed. tags: Gareth notes: sasuga gareth
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Post by Merlin on Apr 3, 2016 4:46:40 GMT
Merlin tried his best not to care about things. When you have Clairvoyance, you kind of have too. I mean, there was just too much to see, too many things to micromanage. Regardless of what you could see, without the ability to be everywhere at once, it was impossible to fix every problem, micromanage every step, provide every solution. It's one of the first things the Wizard had learned growing up: Try to stick your nose in as little as possible. Fixing one problem only makes two more, so only involve yourself in the really big decisions, only guide the really significant changes.
Admittedly however, sometimes he indulged a bit.
The Wizard had been hidden away in his Workshop, a tiny corner of Chaldea he had sealed off for his own use. Well, sealed off was probably incorrect, it's not as if he barred anyone from entering. It was more apt to say he'd constructed a pocket space for his workshop, "inside" Chaldea but not entirely "part" of it, taking up no space in the facility but having a spacious enough pocket of reality to work in as he pleased. Simple enough to keep tabs on the goings on inside the facility, but secluded enough that nobody came to bother him without him wanting them too. Here he was, minding his own business, tinkering with that lovely vial of black liquid they'd retrieved from Fuyuki [Well, HE'D retrieved], when something caught his eye.
Gareth, picking a fight he probably wouldn't win.
Now typically, Merlin let knights do their thing. If they challenged somebody out of their weight class, that was on them, interfering would only infringe on their honor and what not. Besides, all he'd seen Gareth do is sulk about Chaldea anyway, so he half considered just letting him get wailed on to see if it would be a learning experience. Unfortunately, what he'd seen of Gareth's would be opponent made him reconsider. Sometimes helpful, sometimes not, almost always looking for a reason to antagonize somebody or throw magical attacks around like it was a Christmas party. It left a sour taste in Merlin's mouth. Not the antagonizing part, Merlin was guilty of that himself, although he liked to think he did so in a much more playful and, well, humorous manner. It was more the blatant want to stretch his magical muscles Merlin didn't care for. So with a sigh, Merlin placed down his tools and decided to do something he hated doing.
Interfere.
The plan was simple. Just move Gareth away from the target of his idiotic duel. Normally this would be rather difficult, as Merlin often had to convince Knights not too, which was a task unto itself. Fortunately, Gareth had virtually non existent Magic Resistance to Merlin. The spell he used was akin to a Yo-yo really: Make an anchor to a location, throw an object someplace, and then yank it back half a moment later to the Anchor. It wasn't actual spatial transportation, Merlin wasn't willing to do something quite that intensive over Gareth, but it was close enough that it would do the job more than well enough. Not terribly effective at anything besides retrieving things, but in this case all Merlin was looking to do was retrieve a particular broody idiot.
Flashing toward the scene in question, it would take place no more than a heartbeat after Atlas began to launch a Tsunami at his foe. Shrouded behind the wall of water, Atlas might barely make out the flicker of a cloaked figure appearing behind Gareth, hand laying across his shoulder, and then both flickering away. From Gareth's perspective, one moment he would be looking at a massive amount of water, and the next he'd be in some quiet secluded hallway of the facility, with nobody around but Merlin's hooded form standing next to him. And while Gareth wouldn't notice it, a quick enchantment on the hallway with a flick of his wrist would hide it from quick detection spells, keeping the little goofball safe from his would-be attacker. Next to Gareth would be a tiny doll, clothed and shaped to look just like Atlas, except only about a foot tall.
"Perhaps if you're so eager to hit something, you'll start with something a bit smaller, eh~?"
Meanwhile, Atlas himself would find a similar looking doll, only this one was dressed like Gilles de Rais, the mad knight he'd sent careening off to go fight someone earlier. While sopping wet from the Tsunami attacked that would have hit Gareth, it would remain relatively intact, and with a small small, unassuming note attached, written in elaborate cursive.
Find your kicks in a less violent manner, hmm?
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