001. ♔ +1 Hero Type

[holyswordwielder]

Characters: ProtoSaber and you!
Setting: Various floors; dorms, the beach on floor 62, the kitchen on floor 60, and the cafeteria.
Format: Prose to begin with, but I will match you.
Summary: Saber has just arrived in the Tower and he is searching for his Master. (Note: If you've started a thread with Saber in the Test Drive Meme and would like to continue it here, just drop me a note!)
Warnings: Uh. A King Arthur who's a dude.

♔ DORMITORIES
Immediately upon his awakening, the first thing Saber thinks to do is, predictably, look for Ayaka. This is not to say that their sudden, inexplicable change of location and the documents the apparent "hosts" of this strange place provided for him do not concern him, for they do, but what is the point of worrying about any of that if he is not with his Master? For a Servant, being unable to sense the Master's presence is more than simply alarming— it serves as knowledge of how real the likelihood of vanishing is; for Saber, it is proof of his failure to fulfill his purpose, his only goal, because neither he nor Ayaka ever wanted the Grail and all the pursuit of it entails.

He checks every floor of the dormitories and finds evidence of the girl being somewhere in the Tower — her name on a wall — but he has yet to find her. Asking around doesn't seem to get him much either, so he tries to think like Ayaka. Where would she spend her time? What would she do while here alone? Stay somewhere safe... The living quarters seem to be the best place for that so far...

Ah, but Ayaka is a human girl. She does need to eat.

♔ FLOOR 62 ; BEACH
As luck would have it, the cafeteria is near the ground level of the tower and while that didn't seem like it would be trouble at first, realizing that the dormitories are on the highest floors of a tower that seemingly stretches on forever was a shocking moment. Just what was this place? Saber opted for the stairs and as he began his descent, he checked several floors in hopes he'd come across one that seemed like an ideal hiding place for one particular awkward, teenaged girl.

One such floor is obviously supposed to be a beach, but as far as Saber knows, it's not possible to contain an entire beach complete with its own sun and wind, brine and sand, indoors. It's unnatural, therefore the only reasonable explanation he can come up with is magi. Obviously, magic on a scale he's seen only a few times in his life. He doesn't know enough about magecraft to know if this is even possible for an average magus. Some time spent surveying the waves leads him not to trust the safeness of the water's movements and he has to wonder why someone would craft an ocean that seems so eager to swallow someone up.

♔ FLOOR 60 ; KITCHEN
Knowledge of modern technology imparted upon him from the Holy Grail only goes so far when it comes to understanding all the equipment inside the huge kitchen. He understands refrigeration and some of the tools, but he's never seen a freezer as large as the one he finds here, so he walks inside of it, curious.

"Do they prepare meals here? It's still a long ways from the cafeteria."

♔ CAFETERIA
With the amount of people bustling around, a mealtime is underway and everything smells rather... floral. Being a Servant of sorts, Saber doesn't require food or sleep, but as he passes some of the tables, he can't help glancing at the plates of food and wondering what they taste like. It's been a very long time since he's enjoyed such a well prepared meal and a good cup of tea. Perhaps if Ayaka is here...

Comments

[holyswordwielder]

[ Seeing Lancelot's reaction is enough proof Arthur needs to believe that the insane things he says are indeed the truth. He doesn't understand how it can be possible, but then here he is, in a strange place with no war and no way to leave. Much doesn't seem possible here and yet it is. So too must it be then with Lancelot— with this Lancelot.

Arthur feels like he's going to be sick. Of course it would be his fate to meet his old friend again in another lifetime, only to be completely unknown to the man. His heart sinks. ]

I... am sorry for my reaction earlier. I was not expecting so many other Servants to be here...

[ He hates that his voice sounds colder now at the revelation that the other knight does not really know him, but on the other hand, he doesn't wish to burden him with presumptions about how their relationship should be. He has to respect that he is not this Lancelot's king, though he believes in his heart that Lancelot is his friend, in spite of that. That belief gives his legs strength and feet courage to cross the sand to him and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other gingerly on his face. The touches are meant to be comforting, but Arthur would not be surprised to learn they comfort him more than Lancelot. ]

How do you know my name if I am not the king you knew?

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Arthur. This strange and familiar Arthur is laying hands upon him-- and the touch is like a traveling fire, so long has he gone without.

Arthur is speaking now, and Lancelot tries his best to parse his words, unconscious of his tone-- though the hand on his face is like a brand and a blessing all at once, though he can barely get his breath to give reply to Arthur's question. He cannot, not yet.

He cannot speak and so he simply reaches out, closes the distance-- until he embraces this version of his King. Embraces him for all of the times he has wanted to do so but has been unable-- in Life and in Death.
It is a fervent thing, Lancelot's embrace. His grip is that of a drowning Man, that of a man thought lost on a Battlefield but found alive.

When Lancelot find his voice, it sounds strange to his own ears. His actions are strange, but these are strange days, and he has been sorely reminded of late of all that is lost to the past.]

I told myself it was not so, that it could not be so, but I did know your face. As I know your stance.
I would know you in whatever form, Arthur.

[holyswordwielder]

[ The other knight's words only perplex him further, but the need to express as much pales drastically in comparison to returning the embrace Lancelot initiates and all too soon Arthur is forgetting to concentrate on his task of discovering answers and truth, finding himself sinking deeper down into his own sentimentality, his own regrets — long since buried — surging to the forefront of his mind, and his heart aches so much he feels the pain down in the palm of his hands.

Arthur holds Lancelot up and holds him tightly, the disbelief that was in his words echoed in how Saber himself keeps the other man in place against him. His voice caught in his throat still, for a long while he can do nothing more than stand there on that beach with his old friend, his grief for all that was and all that was never able to be, freshly uncovered. ]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[This Arthur is standing with him, unafraid or repulsed, bearing his weight. That is miraculous enough.
Without breaking the circle of Arthur's arms, he brings his hands to Arthur's shoulders, then holds the man at the proper distance to bestow a kiss on each cheek. Strange that this gesture, so familiar to him in Life, seems less awkward with this Arthur then the others in this Place. He rests his forehead against his King's for a moment.]

What has passed-- we both know all too well. As we both fight now in the War for the Grail. Tell me, Arthur, from whence were you brought to this Place? Have we met in Battle there?

[holyswordwielder]

[ The kisses are gestures of affection and loyalty that Arthur knows well, but has not felt in so long that how natural they feel brings tears to his eyes. ]

Lancelot...

[ It's true; and as much as Arthur knows he should not ignore their past, he finds it as pointless to rehash at the moment as the other knight seems to imply. He's content to let it be enough that Lancelot embraces him still like a brother and regards him as his friend even after abandoning him and Guinevere, after failing their country and their people. It's enough. It's more than he would have dared to ever expect, though it was the one thing he'd always hoped for.

Arthur swallows his emotions down and straightens his back, squaring his shoulders as he regains his usual composure. He pats the other knight's chest fondly with both hands and meets his eyes. ]

No. I have never met you in any of the battles I have fought for the Grail. The other Masters do not have Servants I have ever personally known in life.

[ Realization strikes him then and he frowns, the revelation hurting him much more than perhaps it should, seeing how it is not exactly him Lancelot knows, but a similar version of him. It's confusing to think about and his feelings can't quite cope with the reality immediately. Does the other not still bear his name and likeness? His legacy and his story? Then they are the same, as far as Arthur is concerned. ]

You have... with the Arthur you know.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[This Man lays hands upon with the familiar ease his own King and fellow Knights once did. It is a hard thing for Lancelot to make sense of, the knot of his Emotions, tangled as it is with his Memories of Arthur, and of Camelot, and of Guinevere-- and of the War for the Grail. Where what he felt in all was an endless broken Rage and Hatred.

He looks away from Arthur's gaze towards the water for a long moment. When he turns back, he does meet Arthur's eyes-- but it is an effort. Not because he is afraid, but because he cannot think what will show within them.
He releases the man from his embrace, but does not move away.]

I have. Arthur.

She is not among our numbers here. I have faced her briefly in the War-- but She knew me not. The Arthur from my War for the Grail could not see my face, and might not have known me even had she done so.

I am the Servant Berserker, Arthur. I cannot speak for myself. I know no reason. Indeed, I hardly know myself.
No, I have not truly faced her. But when we Return, my Master and I-- I shall.

[holyswordwielder]

[ The Servant Berserker.

It's a difficult truth to accept and Arthur doesn't want to do it, honestly. If he could will away such a cruel fate with denial, Lancelot could easily be saved. It's worse than he thought, and he feels angry and resentful towards the magi again for their ridiculous pursuit of the Grail.

He does hear Lancelot use feminine pronouns to describe his King, but the detail slips by for the moment in favor of more important matters. ]

Listen to me, Lancelot: the Grail is corrupt. It can only bring destruction.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Lancelot bows his head in reply, his hair falling forward as he does so.]

This I have heard-- and it may indeed be true in my Time. But even if such a Thing is so, still-- I can do nothing but what my Master commands. It is some comfort at least that his is a Selfless Wish, made on behalf of another. Such a Wish would be difficult to corrupt. I should think.

He does not expect to survive the War, and indeed has given up his Life to it-- I must aid him, though I would rather do so with my Reason intact.

[Lancelot can't help but give a wry smile (more a twist of his mouth) at his own remarks-- and at how easy it is to confide in Arthur.]
Arthur, before we came to this place, we had not even a Bond together, and I saw him as a foolhardy nuisance. But as I have come to know him, I have seen him show his mettle. I am not sorry to Serve him.

[holyswordwielder]

[ Arthur frowns and closes his eyes momentarily, taking in Lancelot's words with no small measure of sympathy. ]

I understand.

[ And truly, he does not want for Lancelot to betray his Master, nor does he want for the other knight's Master to die or to fail in helping another person. Sadly, however, this does not change what he knows to be true. ]

But no wish is entirely selfless. It will twist it into death and horror, even if he means well. Has he heard this himself? About the Grail?

[chevalier_mal_fet]

He has. My Master is a most passionately single-minded and stubborn Man.
Even were this Curse of which you speak to be True in his War, I do not think he would turn from his course.
[Lancelot seems resigned to his Master's ways than irritated by them, but his words are both a little fond and a little irked.]

I advise him well, since in this Place I am able to speak-- but he does not always heed me.
I would have him send me against the Magus who tortures us both-- I with Madness, and my Master with Illness and the Life of another both.

Even I, Arthur, can see no other course open to me but to Follow My Master's Path where it may lead me. I will be as Faithful as I may.

[Strange words to speak to this Strange Arthur-- but these are Strange days indeed. Even now, he feels the pull of Arthur's Words, and the urge to follow his counsel. Stained as his Faithfulness is, it responds to Arthur's presence like a Hound to its Master's step. ]

[holyswordwielder]

[ What Lancelot tells him of his Master's temperament satisfies Arthur well enough, for he no longer sees continuing his insisting as necessary, let alone useful. It is folly, that so much bloodshed should be used to stop bloodshed, but that's the nature of war. He doesn't expect anyone to see it as justification for a cessation of hostilities the way he did. It was only his shame and guilt that stopped him, after all, and by the time he did withdraw from the war, so much already had been lost. And he had already killed his own Master. ]

May you serve him well then and may the Grail be yours. And... I am sorry... This is not what I would have chosen for you.

[ Not that what he did want for Lancelot and the rest of the country would have been obtained through anything better, but maybe... maybe if his wish had come true, his friend would have been spared. No, it's ridiculous to wonder. There is no way of telling, in truth.

Arthur gives Lancelot a sad smile and again claps his hand on his shoulder. ]

I must find my Master. She is here and she cannot defend herself. They've placed me on the first floor of the dormitories. Tell me you will visit later.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

What choices there have been, I made all my own-- and long ago, Arthur.
I thank you for your Blessing.

[This Arthur, this King-- is among the most Human Arthur he has yet known. The smile he is offers stuns him, the hand clapped to his shoulder thrills him, words spoken are-- those of one honored friend to another.

Lancelot had expected to find simple respite on this beach. Nothing in this place is simple-- as he should know well by now.

He offers Arthur a slight smile in response, and lifts a hand in preparation for his farewell.]

I pray you find your Master well-- and rest assured I shall certainly visit you. I am rarely found in my own rooms, and so will not burden you with their location.

It is-- a fine thing to have met you thus. Arthur.
Even in this Place.