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Post by Ilya Muromets on Apr 23, 2016 11:42:47 GMT
Most of the tables were empty, with the exception of a few masters and the occasional servant chatting non-chalantly. Quite the calm environment, an afternoon cafeteria in a quiet day. That is, if you ignored the loud munching of a bearded yellow giant. He was alone, surrounded by empty trays but he kept on chewing with utmost glee on his face. He laughed between bites and a tear almost fell from his eyes.
"This food must be God-blessed, It's like a feast in my mouth!"
He wasn't even muttering, his voice was as loud as an excited dialogue with himself, usually with a mouthful and spitting a little.
A small boy from the staff came to pick up the trays that had the food Ilya had gulped down already. He was on his 10th meal of the day. Being summoned gave him the munchies. He place his hand around his arm gently.
"My boy! Don't worry about these, once I'm finished I'll pack everything myself! You all deserve rest after creating these gastronomic marvels!"
He retreated with a relunctant smile, without saying a word. As the Saint ate and ate he kept praising the cooks and gave massive compliments everytime he picked up more food. As the resources went down the staff's ego went up. Cafeteria food tends to be under-appreciated pretty much everywhere so it's a nice change of pace when a Servant actually appreciates their efforts.
As he finished his last plate, he belched with exhuberant gladness, stretching back and occupying the space of 3 people on his bench. His burp probably reached the hallways. After a few seconds of smiling silence he got up in a jolt, displaying none of the traits of someone with a full stomach would have. The staff worried he would ask for more food. He looked as hungry as when he was on the first one.
"Ahh, off I go then!"
Much like a trained waiter he took all of the trays with him, balancing them across his tree-thick arms and hands. He pushed the kitchen door softly with his foot and carefuly dropped the trays on the specific washing machine. He was completly unaware that kitchen was forbidden for unauthorized personnell and that there shelves where people were supposed to actually drop them.
It's hard to say "no" to a such an over-excited behemoth.
As he walked away, he produced a flier from his pocket, something he found laying around on the floor. It said "Bowling Night". He was immensly curious about this sport in which one throws a massive ball at wooden objects. Reminds him of the time the castle he was defending had excessive canonballs. Well, they had did have enough canons but that's irrelevant in his mind.
What Ilya failed to notice was the location of the event. "New York". It must have fallen from an american master somehow, but Ilya was convinced there was a bowling alley somewhere within Chaldea and would not rest until he found it.
Distracted, he bumped into someone.
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Post by Miska on Apr 26, 2016 12:12:09 GMT
For the first time in several days, Miska was allowed to the mess hall! After the unfortunate INCIDENT, the unlucky Master was put in Intensive Care Unit for days. The fight of life and death was rough, but Miska surprised the Medical Taffs by his rapid recovery. Afterwards he was transferred to the Infirmary where he was forced to be bedridden for several more days. It was only recently that he was able to make a A SHORT TRIP to the Library. And just this day, the nurses deemed him fit enough to wat on the Mess Hall on his own! Finally! It was actually far easier if she just lie in her bed and ate the nutritious food offered in the hospital;. But she was not in for food. What she wanted was some activity. She was ever a restless person, and being confined on bed for so long made her nauseous. She would become nauseous soon enough, in a pretty wacky MISSION in the Caribbean, but it was a story for several days in the future. So, this was a happy afternoon. Dressed in green hospital gown and pair of thick slippers, with a thick brown mantle bearing a red cross and its sash tied around his waist, Miska was ready to feel alive once more. Of course, he was still on therapy. So there was an infusion set was connected to his left hand and hung on a wheeled pole that could be pushed around. It was a tad annoying that really screamed “Sick” to everyone he met on his way to the Mess Hall, but apparently it was an okay occurrence. There several other patients who walked around with those dangling infusion sets just like him. Which, she noticed, consisted mostly of Masters. The injury rate for Masters were seemingly quite high. |
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Post by Miska on Apr 26, 2016 12:14:46 GMT
As grim as it started, the Kopparsvard Lordling did not let the unhappy thought marred her day. She walked cheerily to the Mess Hall, greeting some people that she knew and they knew him back. A tidy portion of mashed potatoes and smoked beef with salad on the side was her choice, and oh how she enjoyed eating it! Munching the food slowly, Miska let her eyes wander from her seat in the corner of the room, watching the few people left in the Mess Hall going about their ways. After so many days of eating alone facing wall, being able to see colors like this was very nice. And the atmosphere was nice too. Calm and relaxing, except from some loud munching coming from an over-excited behemoth In one of the table. Either he was a Servant, or a really gigantic man but Miska leaned towards the first. The noise he made was annoying for some, but for the bubbling Miska it only added spice to his day. He watched the Giant gulping an extraordinary amount of meal with a slight interest. Perhaps it was ture that he had, against his better judgment, grown attached to the usual quirks of Chaldea. Maybe being confined in one place for a long time made you more amenable to others. Smiling a little, the Master thought she had enough watching and promptly stood up. She left the giant still eating and proceeded to the waste shelves where she used her used tray. She then started walking slowly towards the exit door, dreading the possibility of returning to the gloomy Hospital Wing. But it seemed that he was walking too slowly. “Wha- Ooof!!”Without warning, something powerful hit him from behind and sent him sprawling to the front. Were he hadn’t known better, Miska swore a rhinoceros had hit him. He fell forward, rolling for a few times before finally stopped with his face to the ground.. He could feel the infusin catheter was forcefully pulled off from his hand as he fell. It was hurtful. Small specks of blood began to appear from where the catheter was ripped off. Miska pressed his other hand on it, intending to stop the bleeding. “Who might-“
But as she lifted her facefrom the ground, she came face to face with a gigantic boot. It was so big. It filled her entire sight. *gulp*
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Post by Ilya Muromets on Apr 29, 2016 17:46:27 GMT
A small thump and a loud metallic sound snapped Ilya out of his day-dream.
“Oh! I’m so so so sorry child! I didn’t see you!”
The small redhead was collapsed on the floor. She wore green medical garments that felt way too chilly for such a location; she might catch a cold dressed like that! Considering how close her head was to his boots he didn’t even move an inch, out of fear of stomping her. However that’s where his delicate nature ends and his hyperactive when begins. The poor child was so skinny, do they not feed her? And her hand is bleeding, was it his bumping that caused the wound?
Damnit Ilya, look down next time!
"Are you okay? Let's sit down, my apologies"
With a look of remorseful concern he grabbed him by the shoulders and carried him in a rush like a ragdoll to the closest bench. Despite Ilya’s best intentions, he is unaccustomed to handling fraille people, and as such, has the finesse of an elephant in a china shop. The poor master was shaking to and fro as the behemoth carried him.
As soon as he dropped her he noticed the medical support fallen on the floor and the band aid dangling from her hand.
"Don't worry, I have something for you better than that grey liquid over there. Close your eyes!”
As if removing an imaginary cape, Ilya produced a mantle. It was of an ethereal gold on the outside and of a soothing green on the inside. It looked as thin as a blanket but it was the epitome of comfort in any possible way. If all the qualities of all fabrics were condensed into a magic thread, they wouldn’t produce the pleasant sensation of Ilya’s cover.
He smiled like a father tucking in his infant as he gently placed it around the little master. It enveloped her completely, adjusting tightly around her to cover her arms, torso and neck. It looked like a second skin, but it was in no way tight or large. It felt just right. It always does. The golden glow mixed with the auburn hair gave her a mythical aura.
“I’ll lend you this today and by night-time you’ll be as good as new!”
He tapped her in the back with a great big smile, but with a little bit too much power. The clumsy man regretted the action immediately so he took one step away not to hurt her again. You’re not dealing with soldiers, stop hitting people like that!
Very carefully this time, he leaned in front of the master, bending his knees so their faces were at the same level. His giant hands were resting on his legs as he spoke.
“Now, who do I have the pleasure to be speaking with? I’m Ilya Muromets, what’s your name?”
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Post by Miska on Apr 30, 2016 0:30:10 GMT
“Are you okay? Let’s sit down. My apologies.”
In usual circumstances Miska would have given his cold “Do I look okay to you?” stare when treated like this. But this time, he could not even see the speaker. The boot was very close to his nose he could almost see each thread that bind the leather together. News about people who were stomped to death by elephants uncomfortably fleeth through his mind. But maybe being stomped was better than being taken for a ride. “Awawawa!”The small Master shook like a ragdoll as she was roughly lifted up and very roughly being forced to sit down on a nearby bench. Numbed by the shaking and the building fear, she could only stare paralyzed as the Giant continued on. The way he did magic, a Servant? The next time he knew, he a warm mantle was put around him and he immediately felt relaxed. The mantle was…so soft. Warm and comfy. If anything else it reminded Miska of his newly dried towel back when he and his father was still lving in the tropics. He used to play around the drying pole when he was there, and there was nothing more that he like than the smell of his towel after being dried by the sun. It was soothing and fragrant, like a mother’s touch if Miska had ever have one. This cloak felt like it. Miska’s head swayed to one side, unwittingly caressing the rim of the mantle with her cheek. “Thank you…”The next time a big face appeared in front of her. She instinctively leaned back a little, noting with horror that the giant beard might suffocate her just by being in there. So robust it was, it looked like a carpet to Miska. “Mis-Miska… “ he squeaked politely, almost scaredly, “Lord Kopparsvard IX…”The last sentence felt weak and insignificant when faced with such a noble behemoth. Miska felt her embarrassment building up. “Wh-where are you going?” he blurted out, not knowing why he asked.
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Post by Ilya Muromets on Apr 30, 2016 19:29:15 GMT
The poor thing looked so distressed! Even with the holy cloak she must feel rather scared or shocked to still have a wavy voice like that. It’s impossible to feel anything other than physical comfort with it on, but it doesn’t soothe any mental annoyance.
His eyes opened wide and his smile disappeared for a second before becoming a booming astonished laugh that echoed through the mess hall.
“What? I’m in the presence of a Lord? Oh my! I would never have guessed!” His clumsiness also applies to his social skills, being short under Evaporation of Sanity. Lords in his days wore much more pompous attires so he got used to understanding royalty as a very visual social role, and this little guy seemed so modest in comparison. He meant his words with no sarcasm or demeaning intent of any kind and was oblivious how they could be misconstrued into a disguised insult.
“Wonderful to meet you Lord Miska!”
He extended his hand and shook the masters’ hand with noble vigor. Again, Miska was shaken by the giants’ excitement, but at least now he was wearing comfy clothing. The Lord asked him where he was going and he found the question odd but payed no heed to it, replying with no qualms.
“Well, I’m looking for what I hear is called ‘bowling alleys’. You know what it is? You have these tiny black balls and throw it at weird wooden objects. Seems fun! Would you like to join me as well?”
He was standing upright now, giddy with childlike enthusiasm that casted a lovely contrast with his huge figure and voice as low as a bear’s growl. He looked around the floor and found the flier he had dropped right before carrying Miska. His rough fingers could barely hold the small pamphlet.
“Here! I saw it in this little announcement, give it a look.”
Well, they got off on the wrong foot but if there’s a place you can bond is in a bowling alley! Ilya had never been to one, but everywhere is a good place to bond for him. He once befriended his own torturer at some point. It was short lived though. The minute he started torturing someone else… let’s just say there wasn’t a lot of the torturer left in one piece. He can endure much, but an innocent in pain isn’t on the list. That innocent person was actually a serial murderer but when Ilya found out he was already long gone.
Shaking his head to get rid of the reminiscence, Ilya began to scour the mess hall looking for other people to invite to the bowling party he was now arranging in his mind. Too bad he doesn’t know anyone yet, outside of Miska. He addressed the little master again.
“So? What do you think?”
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Post by Miska on May 1, 2016 3:42:58 GMT
Oh that’s it. Miska could not hide the fleeting displeasure in her face when she, once gain, was told that she did not have the appearance of a Lord. Her Father groomed her to be a proper one, yet somehow it seemed that his efforts were in vain. A Lord should be generous, upright with a regal presence. Miska was none, so far. Her nervousness always got in the way, although she have tried to emulate every bit of what her father did. Actually…someone like this Servant Ilya might have been a good role model. He had a natural confidence which amplified his presence. Even if he was not as big as he was now, Miska had no doubt that he would still be able to carry himself just fine. If a fool become a foll because they are in the company of foolish person, perhaps someone become confident in the company of a confident person too? Miska would try it out. “Bowling alley?” he started in a confused tone “But ther is –no- bowling Alley in Chal-“
The next moment that big hand shoved a pamphlet to his face. Miska take it –dignifiedly- and began reading what it was. He only had to see the big yellow letter on the top left saying “Bowlmor Times Square, 222 W 44th St, New York” in all capitals to knew that the affable Giant had been sorely mistaken. He had been tricked! For a while, Miska wanted to laugh just to annoy the Servant, but wisely decided that it might not be the best of ideas. Getting back at him for calling her not fit for her title was good, but Miska was far too smart to let her ego threaten her well-being. Suddenly, his mind concocted a grand plan. He did not want to return to the confines of the hospital yet. Why don’t he follow this Big Servant for a while? He could say later that the Servant forced him to go. And with someone as large as him, he doubted any staffs would want to confront of him about it. It might be an interesting trip too! Perfect! “So, what do you think?”Miska paused for a while. Mulling her choices before answering. “There is no Bowling Alley in Chaldea.” he said, politely returning the pamphlet back, “But it does not mean we cannot make it! There is the…the Trismegistus Virtual Space where anyone can imagine anything –almost anything, I think…No. Is it anything…? I mean! It can be made reality there.”“But-but outside is good too,” she continued, waving her hand to the window that showed a smallpatch barren trees of the tundra ,” There is the wood and all we need is the ball, right?” He smiled, feeling excited after quite a long time. By this time he had forgotten about the wheeled pole where his infusion set was still hanging, and the stern command from the hospital staffs that he returned before six. |
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Post by Ilya Muromets on Jun 3, 2016 20:38:32 GMT
In confusion, the giant read the pamphlet again. It did say New York. Ilya had a certain dislike for the name though, for the life of him he didn’t know why. It must be some residual national grudge against that country. Something about cold wars. He’s was a Russian hero, all his wars were cold, but that’s irrelevant.
“Oh, I see. That’s sad…”
He rubbed his beard, pensively.
He’d heard about Trimegistus alright and dismissed it instinctively. You would think the prospect of virtual reality would entice the giant, but if there’s something he enjoys is authenticity. How can they produce anything remotely life-like with those electric gizmos? He was rather skeptic about this whole technological simulation thingy.
Also, so he heard, it was still in complete tatters. Something about a red stranger and bombs.
However, he hadn’t thought of going outside.
“Lord Miska! That’s a wonderful idea! We can craft our very own bowling alley! My, it’s been so long since I crafted anything! What are we waiting for then??”
He clapped only once, as if he had a brilliant thought himself and grabbed Miska over his shoulder like a potato sac, excited as he was to go back into the tundra. He remembered then that he was still injured.
“Oh! Sorry sorry!”
He placed the Lord on the floor again, standing much like a bowling pin.
“Wait, are you sure you can go out to collect wood? The cloak will keep you warm, but a small tear and you’ll freeze again! We need to get you an overcoat. Where’s your room? We’ll get you something warm and then we’ll go on our merry way!”
Ilya still hadn’t considered the detail of finding a place to build a bowling alley and was aggressively disregarding Trismegistus as well. Nor had the concept of asking permission to Chaldea crossed his mind. Also, if they wished to build this construction in decent time, they would need more people to help.
He cleared his throat.
“IF ANYONE WOULD WISH TO HELP US BUILD A BOWLING ALLEY YOU ARE MORE THAN WELCOME MY FRIENDS! IT’LL BE FUN!”
With a voice as sounding his, there would be no need for a megaphone. He then smiled triumphantly at Miska.
Ilya wasn't known for his discretion or his practical thinking.
*OOC: I'm sorry for taking so long x-x
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