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Post by emiya on Nov 3, 2015 0:20:28 GMT
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
The sound of his arrows striking targets wasn’t overpowering, but it was a steady background to the decently-sized training center. To an outside observer, what Emiya was doing might look mind-numbingly dull and pointless. Though the targets were moving on a conveyor belt, he was just constantly drawing, sighting, and loosing one arrow after another, and they all, inevitably, struck their target.
It’s reasonable to ask why someone would focus so hard and so long on something that was clearly already within the ability of the man. However, no one seemed interested in doing so. The facility was large enough that the strange man continuously firing arrows at the wall could be easily ignored. It was highly likely that anyone not interested in the man himself, or his spot in the training room, at least, could easily ignore him.
For Emiya, though, the action wasn’t about improving aim that didn’t need to be improved. In reality, it was more closely related to meditation. While he didn’t know how other masters of the bow used their weapon, for him, the actual process was extraordinarily simple, and all but identical to his projection magecraft. Imagine how the shot will be formed. Go through the requisite processes. See the arrow strike the target. This process was relatively easy for an empty person like him.
The fact that his mind was cleared of everything but the target and the movements of his body was something incredibly relaxing. Though he’d long been at a point where he could “cheat,” able to make long, tricky shots without the need for such clearheadedness, finding something akin to serenity was enjoyable for him. It wasn’t like there was any pressure on his mind, anyway. He had to wait for another mission to process, so he could dive into his task of helping preserve the world. In the meantime, though...he could shoot the targets as much as he wanted.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2015 1:00:58 GMT
The small clinks of armored boots echoed slightly in the wake of the King of Knights roaming the halls. Arturia had donned her armor as a source of familiarity more than necessity. The sounds of her armor shifting in time with her movements was something she had long grown accustomed to, and in a perpetually ready to move place like Chaldea, it also felt appropriate. On top of that, she saw many Servants roaming in their combat attire. A few had adopted more casual clothing, but many seemed to feel the "be ready at any time" mentality was the correct one.
Clink. Thunk. Clink. Thunk. Clink. Thunk.
A second sound had entered into the rhythm of her armor. It was coming from a nearby room, and so she went to investigate out of curiosity. It was one of the few things to do between missions. Taking a peek into the room, it appeared to be some sort of training facility. There was an area she recognized as similar to a sparring dojo, much like the one at the Emiya manor, as well as an archery range. In that range was yet another sight she was not expecting here; the very same Archer from the fifth Holy Grail War. His image was unmistakable; white spiked hair, red cloak, black armor, and noticeably tanned skin. How she felt about this Archer was an odd thing; at one point he was a foe, another an ally, and another...an enemy in a different sense. No, more like he was the enemy of another side of her rather than her own. A name came to mind when looking at him though; Emiya.
"Archer? Is that you?" she spoke, making sure she indeed was speaking to the same Archer. It was not impossible for a look-alike to have been summoned, however slim the odds may be.
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Post by emiya on Nov 3, 2015 1:19:59 GMT
Thunk.
Firing the shot in his hand, he turned around at the voice. A part of him thought that it was too improbable to be true, but another couldn’t help but point out the fact that if Chaldea could summon something in particular, they would of course have chosen who the voice immediately brought to mind. After all, why wouldn’t someone try to enlist possibly the most famous hero in history?
When he turns around, he confirms what he already knew. “Hello, Arturia. It’s been a while.” The words came smooth, effortless, but his mind wasn’t nearly as serene as it had been five seconds ago. He was struck by much the same feeling as he had been when they’d fought that day they first encountered each other...or reacquainted, in his particular circumstances. A deer caught in headlights, knowing he needed to move, but finding it particularly difficult. In battle, it had limited him, nearly costing him his life. In a more social situation, like this one, it simply made him appear somewhat stiff.
A large part of that was how great of an impact the young-looking woman had on his life. Beyond simply saving him more times than he could count, she was essentially the ideal he took on in life. A guiding star that led him on his road to damnation, that even in his lowest point he couldn’t bring himself to resent. “It’s good to see you again. Were you a recent arrival? The facility is large, but I’d think knowledge of a Heroic Spirit of your caliber would travel quickly.”
With that, he attempts to turn back to the target, but focus doesn’t come easily to him. When he attempts to fire at a target, it strikes the first circle to the side of the bullseye. “Tch. I sure hope I’m not losing my touch...that’s embarrassing.”
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Post by Deleted on Nov 3, 2015 1:52:07 GMT
It really was him. The odds of that were...well, pretty small. Arturia had faint memories of how tricky it was for him to even be summoned in Fuyuki, so the fact he was here was nothing short of a miracle. Thinking on it though, this was also many years later on the timeline than the war in Fuyuki, so perhaps it was less impossible at this time. It was hard to say how far into the future Heroic Spirit EMIYA hailed from. All unimportant details though, as what mattered was his presence here in Chaldea.
"I was summoned relatively recently. I take it you've been around a bit longer." her response was casual, but her tone had not wavered. She watched as he turned to fire another shot at the target. This one, though, did not strike the center. She saw the string of targets with arrows in the dead center out of the corner of her eye, so the only real change was her own presence. Why that would be so distracting, there were several possibilities, but she decided to run a particular scenario.
"Perhaps you've simply spent too much time fighting with your swords recently." was the option she chose, taking a small jab at the unusual choice in fighting style belonging to this particular "Archer". Almost always fighting enemies in close combat with a pair of twin short swords, instead of actually firing on his enemies from a distance. The presence of the archery itself was not unusual; she had seen Shirou practicing it before and knew it to be something he was skilled at. Why it dictated his class to be Archer, however, was another question.
Her head turned to look at the dojo-like arena, noting the rack of kendo swords present. Someone in the chain of command either really liked Kendo or just liked the feel of a dojo. Either way though, it may prove useful for the reunion of the unlikely duo, even if one half was...rather different. "Shall I make sure you haven't gotten rusty, Archer?"
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Post by emiya on Nov 3, 2015 2:18:02 GMT
Archer nods. “I was summoned relatively early on in Chaldea’s system. I suspect it to be either a connection to the battleground we fight in, or simply because Chaldea serves an analoguous purpose as the Counter Force. Likely both.” The impossibility of his summon wasn’t lost on him. It’d taken a very particular catalyst for him to be summoned the last time, and there was no such connection here. He smiles. “It’s not like I can complain, though.”
Arturia’s jab elicits a sigh as he turns around, allowing his bow to dematerialize. “I suppose it might. A lot of that was Rin’s fault, commanding me unreasonably.” He stops, then blinks. Looking back at Arturia, he can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “Was that a joke? Well, it seems that I’m not the only one acting unusually.” In all his time, both as a boy, and as a Heroic Spirit, he couldn’t recall Saber ever joking. After a bit of contemplation, he decided that he enjoyed it.
The challenge was another thing that wasn’t expected, though it was far less unpredictable. Walking ahead of her, he heads over to the rack. Even if Saber thought of him as different...he could very easily recall their sparring matches...and more vividly, the painful, groaning nights that tended to follow them. “If I accept, I don’t suppose there’ll be any mercy. But then, at this point, I really don’t deserve any.” He knew he’d end up on the ground after this. There wasn’t a question. The most he could hope for was not embarrassing himself while doing it.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2015 22:14:07 GMT
Arturia had a small smirk as Archer posed the notion of "mercy", walking up to the rack beside him and taking one of the swords into her hands. It felt familiar, and taking a couple practice swings with it, the weight was also familiar. She couldn't exert her full power with the weapon, lest it completely shatter on her opponent with one swing, but she could still hit with a fair amount of force. It would have to be more than she normally used on Shirou, since EMIYA was a Heroic Spirit, but this battle may prove to be more one of skill than power.
"Of course not. Though in the interests of not breaking Chaldea's equipment, it may be better to make this a battle of skill. No need for life or death training, after all," she commented while taking a few more steps towards the center of the arena. Her armor remained materialized, as both a hint of the nature of their battle and a limiter on her own prana expenditure. The more she put into maintaining her defenses, the less she spent on power. Though she could regulate it just fine, she didn't want to accidentally spend too much in a single strike.
"A point for each blow that would otherwise be lethal. How does that sound?" a simple set of rules for a simple sparring match, though she did not think they would need many rules for this. She took a ready stance on one side of the starting line, eyes meeting Archer's. The rest would be understood.
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Post by emiya on Nov 4, 2015 22:30:36 GMT
Saber shatters any hope of mercy with a simply smirk. Of course there wouldn’t be mercy. I wasn’t the same, weak child I had been the last time we crossed wooden swords. Though there was still a huge gulf between us in power, I had become somewhat strong myself. Through my contract with the World, and with the perseverance of decades, I had become someone that Arturia Pendragon could look at as an equal.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
“Oh? So it’s still training, then? I think I feel insulted.”
The barbs I threw around was something I came to enjoy. Simple teasing, if only to see the reactions of other people. I didn’t expect from someone as naturally composed as Arturia is, but the words seemed to come of their own volition.
My failure with the bow a distant memory, I take a wooden sword off of the rack. How long it’s been since I used a weapon I didn’t create...well, I wouldn’t know. Time is a strange concept. Certainly not since I was alive, at any rate. Weighing the wooden sword as I step up to the starting line, I adopt a stance I hadn’t taken since things were very, very different. I look down in order to keep my attention solely focused on my opponent.
“I accept those terms.”
With that, the match already began. The air changes immediately, as the time to strike or defend becomes immediate. I attempt to make the first blow: when fighting an enemy far stronger than you, the obvious correct choice if victory is your aim is to try to keep them on the defensive, off-balance. Of course I don’t expect this to go so easily with an opponent as skilled as I am facing, but...it’s not like I have a choice.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 7, 2015 19:22:08 GMT
Archer accepted, and thus they began. Arturia, no, Servant Saber kept her eyes on her opponent as he made the first move. For a moment, white became orange and red became blue, but it did not cause her to waver. It was just a pleasant nostalgia mixed into a situation that demanded her full attention. In her mind, she saw the whole thing play out; he would make a strike against her, which she would parry to the side and follow up with a quick strike to the head to net her the first point. That was the course of battle that her instincts told her to pursue.
"Such a simple strike," she commented as the sword came in, only to be parried by her own. She used the parry to push his blade to the side, and quickly maneuvered her wrists to bring her own blade back in line. Without missing a beat, her arms brought down the sword in hopes of striking the head for the first point of their match, "could never strike me!"
It was all too similar to the matches between Saber and Shirou back in Fuyuki. He would attack in a straightforward manner, but would never land a single hit on her. Though he naturally improved, it was impossible for him to bridge the gap between the two in such a short time. On the other hand, while this version had much more time to improve, his technique was still the same as his younger self. There were some things that time could not change, but there was room for her to be proven wrong about this. It would all hinge on his response to this attack.
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Post by emiya on Nov 8, 2015 16:02:30 GMT
I knew that attack would be parried. I did not even require my hard-earned precognition about combat to know that would be the case: I had direct experience. It was like I was in the small dojo, back in the quiet little Japanese mansion I used to call home. Back then, making such a maneuver would surely have resulted on a strike to my head, and signaled that I should quit trying to learn to fight and begin making breakfast. But then...I was several hundred times more competent now as I had been then.
I see the parrying strike come. My muscles slacken, allowing my sword to be pushed away.Turning to face Saber almost before she makes her motion, my strike comes immediately. This was my true fighting style, an abuse of the hundreds upon thousands of battles I was in to know where my opponent would be and strike before they do. Aside from the world that was me, it was my only real value as a Servant.
I move in, pressing any advantage I could gain by parrying Saber’s second strike. I bring my own blade down at her right shoulder. In doing so, I know I leave a fatal weak point on my left side. If left unattended, Saber could easily score a point against me. In recognizing that, I adjust my stance slightly to compensate: If Saber moves out of the way to dodge my swing, my swing should make my sword ready to at least block her attack. A limitation of this fighting style that I couldn’t simply parry it and continue to swing, but it should suffice for now.
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