Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oathshackledbird) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-01-04 11:14 pm
oathshackledbird) wrote in towerofanimus2013-01-04 11:14 pm
I Don't Think That's How...
Characters: Zero Lancer and whoever would like to join!
Setting: Starting in room 4-16, then heading to the cafeteria, and from there floor six.
Format: Whatever you would like!
Summary: Zero Lancer wakes up in a strange place and tries to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: Spoilers for Lancer's end in the series.
Room 4-16
[The moment he is able to move from the strange paralysis that has gripped him upon waking, Lancer's hand sweeps out to grab one of the two letters his eyes spot on the table near his bed. While the time he's been unable to move has been brief, for a trained warrior in a unfamiliar place, that time has still seemed like an eternity.
An eternity trapped in mystery. An eternity not knowing if his master...]
Right, my master...
[The word drips with an anger unusual to him as his empty hand rises to rest over his heart--over the place where there should have been a gaping hole from the spear he had been forced to drive through his own chest.
The wound is no longer there.]
What is going on? How can this be?
[Lancer's eyes focus back on the letter in his hand and he quickly opens it. After only a few moments, the letter floats onto his bed. Dropped in surprise? Shock? He's not really sure what to call the feeling that tears through his heart. Shock he had felt when he had been betrayed by the master he'd given everything to. Surprise he had felt when he realized, in those final moments, how angry it had made him.
The emotion he feels now that he has been told that his world is dead and he is still alive instead of it being the other way around is something he can't put a name to. And while he doesn't know what to call that emotion, he does know he can't just keep sitting on the bed in this strange place wondering what's going on.
Lancer quickly rises to his feet and summons his armor and spear to his side. The summoning is as natural to him as breathing and he never once doubts that they will come when called. He does, however, notice that while the white outfit had woke up in is now gone, the collar is still there. It's an annoyance, but something he can deal with later once he's gotten some answers.
He's about to leave his room when the trunk at the end of his bed catches his eye. He's not quite sure why, but he gets the feeling he should really look into it before leaving. If the letters had held information, then why not the trunk as well?
Anyone who happens by 4-16 and looks or stops in may find him still kneeling in front of the now opened trunk. Asking about what looks to be the tears in the corners of his eyes may or may not be a good idea.]
The Cafeteria
[While servants technically don't have to eat, since Lancer has no idea how things work in this strange place, he is currently eating a bowl of very tasteless oatmeal. Not that it really bothers him considering some of the things he had eaten while in the Fianna and on the run from Fionn. Tasteless actually is an improvement from what some of those things had tasted like.
To be honest, he's not here for the food anyway. Since the cafeteria was mentioned in the letter, it only stands to reason that a good number of people would be there--new and old alike. And that does seem to be the case, so the servant in green sits at one of the cafeteria tables slowly making his way through his own bowl, his head bowed over it almost as if he's shy. While he's not really shy, he is somewhat worried about his curse and how it will affect the people here. So far, though, no one seems to be having troubles with it leading him to hope that it's not active. Those who take the time to look into his eyes will find that, far from looking shy, they are observing the room and its occupants with an intensity that only those who have fought many many a battle can achieve.]
Floor Six
[After learning all he can in the cafeteria, Lancer decides to slowly start making his way back up the tower so that he can find out what secrets each floor holds. Already he's heard tell that many of the floors are dangerous and even deadly to those who make a misstep on them, but this floor seems far too peaceful for that. He takes a few steps away from the stairway, but doesn't go too far, keeping in mind the things he had overheard from others. How some floors look completely safe, only to become deathtraps in the blink of an eye.
Movement to his left draws Lancer's attention, but he smiles when he notices it's just a deer. A...mutated deer, but a deer just the same. In all honesty, it's not the strangest thing he's seen. He grew up in a world of oddities after all.
The deer watches him for a few moments longer before disappearing back into the forest. As it disappears, Lancer closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. Maybe it is just because of what he found in his trunk, but this forest with all its oddities makes him feel strangely at home.
Unconsciously, his hand raises to touch the torc that sits tightly around his neck slightly above the collar. He could have worn it lower as he had when it had first been given to him, but no. Lancer can't stand the idea of the gift Oscar had spent so much time finding for him being hidden by that thing...that annoyance he still hasn't found a way to be rid of.
And so he stands there, lost in thought. Thoughts of the old days, of his old friends, things supposedly on a world that might or might not have been destroyed. He still isn't sure what he believes. He just knows that at least here he has these small things, these memories.
He didn't have any of that in the war...]
Setting: Starting in room 4-16, then heading to the cafeteria, and from there floor six.
Format: Whatever you would like!
Summary: Zero Lancer wakes up in a strange place and tries to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: Spoilers for Lancer's end in the series.
Room 4-16
[The moment he is able to move from the strange paralysis that has gripped him upon waking, Lancer's hand sweeps out to grab one of the two letters his eyes spot on the table near his bed. While the time he's been unable to move has been brief, for a trained warrior in a unfamiliar place, that time has still seemed like an eternity.
An eternity trapped in mystery. An eternity not knowing if his master...]
Right, my master...
[The word drips with an anger unusual to him as his empty hand rises to rest over his heart--over the place where there should have been a gaping hole from the spear he had been forced to drive through his own chest.
The wound is no longer there.]
What is going on? How can this be?
[Lancer's eyes focus back on the letter in his hand and he quickly opens it. After only a few moments, the letter floats onto his bed. Dropped in surprise? Shock? He's not really sure what to call the feeling that tears through his heart. Shock he had felt when he had been betrayed by the master he'd given everything to. Surprise he had felt when he realized, in those final moments, how angry it had made him.
The emotion he feels now that he has been told that his world is dead and he is still alive instead of it being the other way around is something he can't put a name to. And while he doesn't know what to call that emotion, he does know he can't just keep sitting on the bed in this strange place wondering what's going on.
Lancer quickly rises to his feet and summons his armor and spear to his side. The summoning is as natural to him as breathing and he never once doubts that they will come when called. He does, however, notice that while the white outfit had woke up in is now gone, the collar is still there. It's an annoyance, but something he can deal with later once he's gotten some answers.
He's about to leave his room when the trunk at the end of his bed catches his eye. He's not quite sure why, but he gets the feeling he should really look into it before leaving. If the letters had held information, then why not the trunk as well?
Anyone who happens by 4-16 and looks or stops in may find him still kneeling in front of the now opened trunk. Asking about what looks to be the tears in the corners of his eyes may or may not be a good idea.]
The Cafeteria
[While servants technically don't have to eat, since Lancer has no idea how things work in this strange place, he is currently eating a bowl of very tasteless oatmeal. Not that it really bothers him considering some of the things he had eaten while in the Fianna and on the run from Fionn. Tasteless actually is an improvement from what some of those things had tasted like.
To be honest, he's not here for the food anyway. Since the cafeteria was mentioned in the letter, it only stands to reason that a good number of people would be there--new and old alike. And that does seem to be the case, so the servant in green sits at one of the cafeteria tables slowly making his way through his own bowl, his head bowed over it almost as if he's shy. While he's not really shy, he is somewhat worried about his curse and how it will affect the people here. So far, though, no one seems to be having troubles with it leading him to hope that it's not active. Those who take the time to look into his eyes will find that, far from looking shy, they are observing the room and its occupants with an intensity that only those who have fought many many a battle can achieve.]
Floor Six
[After learning all he can in the cafeteria, Lancer decides to slowly start making his way back up the tower so that he can find out what secrets each floor holds. Already he's heard tell that many of the floors are dangerous and even deadly to those who make a misstep on them, but this floor seems far too peaceful for that. He takes a few steps away from the stairway, but doesn't go too far, keeping in mind the things he had overheard from others. How some floors look completely safe, only to become deathtraps in the blink of an eye.
Movement to his left draws Lancer's attention, but he smiles when he notices it's just a deer. A...mutated deer, but a deer just the same. In all honesty, it's not the strangest thing he's seen. He grew up in a world of oddities after all.
The deer watches him for a few moments longer before disappearing back into the forest. As it disappears, Lancer closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. Maybe it is just because of what he found in his trunk, but this forest with all its oddities makes him feel strangely at home.
Unconsciously, his hand raises to touch the torc that sits tightly around his neck slightly above the collar. He could have worn it lower as he had when it had first been given to him, but no. Lancer can't stand the idea of the gift Oscar had spent so much time finding for him being hidden by that thing...that annoyance he still hasn't found a way to be rid of.
And so he stands there, lost in thought. Thoughts of the old days, of his old friends, things supposedly on a world that might or might not have been destroyed. He still isn't sure what he believes. He just knows that at least here he has these small things, these memories.
He didn't have any of that in the war...]
Re: Floor six
He starts toward her just to make sure she doesn't need any help, but stops dead in his tracks at that look. It's one he's seen before in the eyes of countless women. One that makes him distinctly uneasy.
He takes a deep breath before speaking just to make sure his voice is even and showing none of the nervousness he's suddenly feeling.]
Hello. You seem very capable of taking care of yourself, but I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't ask. Are you okay?
Floor six
You're very kind...? [Her voice trailed of pointedly, as if prodding him for a name]
Re: Floor six
[His voice is a little more...breathless than he would like, but he brushes it off since he's having to focus on not stepping back in the face of her presence. It's obvious she's not human. Even if he hadn't seen her take the deer down like that, he would have known. Her every movement--even her voice--screams supernatural.
It all triggers warning bells in his mind. Not the part of his mind that holds his battle instincts, but the part of him that had grown up in Ancient Ireland. The part of him that knew those things that went bump in the night were real and even more deadly than the stories said they were.]
Leanan Sidhe...
Floor six
[When he named her- or at least, tried to, she laughed] Such a name. What makes you think that, dear beautiful man?
Re: Floor six
[There is only one person Lancer knows of who might be called by such a name and it is most definitely not him. No, mistaking him for that great man for even a moment would be a grave insult to the real Hound of Culann.
Her laughter causes him to raise his head, steeling himself and finally meeting her eyes.]
I think you know well what you are. I only label you the best I know how. You are not human. Your whole being screams of the unnatural. Of something that wishes to take what it has no right to take.
Floor six
[Her eyes are dark but merry with amusement.] You are the fastest to figure I am not human. But I have a right to take what I want. If it's not fast enough to get away... if it's willing to join me for a night of pleasure... it's my right to take it. Human hunters feel the same with their prey, hm?
Re: Floor six
[He's still not sure what to think of his new roommate. The man certainly seems to like his fights, but at the same time the impression Lancer's been left with is that of a foolish child, not a fighter. It is an odd mix of impressions to be sure.]
Men do not hunt other men. Those who do, are dealt with themselves. Would you really call yourself a hunter of men? Would you really say you have the right to make that choice for another?
Catarina is her own warning, I swear
Hm. Do you really believe that, Lancer? And I would call myself a hunter. Wouldn't you?
LOL! Don't worry. I'm loving this!
I cannot honestly speak of his skill with a lance, but he does seem to have a loud and practiced mouth on him.
However, I can say that I was raised on the stories told of The Hound of Culann. I modeled parts of my life on his. Tell me, how practiced to you think I am?
[His smirk remains even as he turns back to the more serious topic at hand.]
I may be a hunter, but I would not say that I am a hunter of men. Those I killed, I killed out of necessity because they hunted me.
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His mouth is quite practiced. [The purr in her voice said what meaning of the words she was saying] Is your tongue as good as his? It would like to compare sometime... especially who you said you model yourself over.
[She laughed] Everyone is a hunter of others at some point.
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[He finally steps back away from her, his eyes still on hers so that she knows he's not stepping back because she's unnerved him. Instead, he is merely placing distance between them in an effort to refocus their conversation on what he considers important.]
Maybe that is how things are in your world, but I don't believe that is how they are in mine. Hunting for sport is one thing. Killing in self-defense or to protect what is important to you is a completely different thing.
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[Catarina smirked at him backing up, taking another step, not letting him control the situation]
Mm. But you seem to speak for everyone... I am a demon. Do you speak for me?
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[He doesn't take another step back. If she is going to continue to advance on him, then there is no reason to keep trying to keep the distance.]
You misunderstand me, Lady. I don't claim to speak for anyone but myself and what I feel is the state of my world.
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Impossible? I've had him inside of me, on top of me... He's young but skilled, the hound lance.
Lady? Hah, you speak like Saber.
Thank you Catrina. He will now be scarred for life once he realizes who his roomie is...
If my roommate is using the name of Culann's hound in an attempt to gain your attention, Lady, then you should know he has no right to use it. It has been a great many years since Cu Chulainn walked in this world and even if he did somehow return, a place like this would never hold him. You have been tricked.
[His anger and distaste disappear completely when she mentions a Saber that speaks as he does. Could it possibly be that...]
Tell me, does this Saber you claim I speak like have blond hair and green eyes? A petite woman whose skill with a sword is unmatched?
Allow her to hasten the brain breakage
And why would one like you lie about which hero he is? Would you lie if one asked who you used to be before Lancer?
She hold gold eyes, but the rest is true. She's... quite delicious.
Is she going to be nice and pick up all the little Lancer pieces?
[Lancer pauses and turns from her, then takes a few steps away and runs his hand through his hair trying desperately to block out the conclusion his mind is coming to. When he speaks, his voice is low and slightly shaking.]
It just can't be. That man...that boy....
[He falls silent again unwilling to voice anymore. Instead, he switches topics back to the aforementioned Saber.
Her answer to his question both relieves and saddens him. While he would have loved a chance to fight alongside of Saber again, Lancer also hates the idea of the great King of Knights being trapped in this hellish place.]
It can't be the Saber I know then. One doesn't just change their eye color. Thank you for the information.
lol you're cute
It never occurred to you that he was once a boy?
[And back to Saber. Her eyes hardened, cold]
Hm. But the rest does fit. She's quite strong, fit for the king she is. And quite delicious, her lips and her energy.
Oops, I see a typo. It seems you accidently typed 'cute' when you meant to type 'derp.' :-)
[Lancer doesn't miss the way her personality shifts when he changes the topic back to Saber though he can't understand why it angers her so that the Saber he knows is not the one she does.
But...how many blond girls out there can call themselves kings? He ponders this for a moment, before taking a risk and hoping that Saber can forgive him if he's making a mistake.]
If you are so sure, then tell me this. Is the name of the Saber you know, Arturia Pendragon, better known, perhaps, as the King of Knights?
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If she is who I believe her to be, then I had the honor of fighting as her left hand during the 4th Grail War. We had a duel ongoing and I couldn't let anyone defeat her before we finished.
[His face and voice suddenly sadden.]
It is just a shame that fate was cruel enough to decide our duel was one that would never be finished no matter how much we wished it to be.
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And you want to finish it.
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[Lancer watches her reactions as he speaks. He still can't understand why her personality and even her presence changed so suddenly and completely when they started talking about Saber. Even if they are good friends, it seems a little extreme.
And why would Saber be hanging around someone like her anyway? How well did they actually know each other? The way this woman talks, she seems to know Saber almost as well as she knows Cu C....his roommate and that shouldn't be possible.
After all, why would someone as honorable as the King of Knights be hanging out with a self-proclaimed demon?]
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And if she isn't who you remember?
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If she's not the Saber I know or if she is and she doesn't wish to associate with me again, then I will let her do as she pleases. It's not my place to tell a king what to do. I am merely a knight bound to preform what is asked of me.
[His eyes shift just slightly to the side, off from hers, and his voice drops to a whisper. For a moment, it's almost like he's not aware he's saying what he is out loud.]
Besides, after seeing what happened to me in the war and how I reacted, I guess it wouldn't be too surprising if she doesn't want to have anything to do with me. Perhaps wishing to meet her again is just a foolish dream like so many others I've had in the past.
(no subject)
Congats, you now have a pile of Lancer bits. What do? ;-)
Be Catarina, that's what
Yes, encourage the E-Ranked luck to trigger. Good thinking.... X.x
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