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AFFILIATEDLANCER (CU CHULAINN) ROLEPLAY BLOG
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“You see father, I see a priest that’s about to go down.”
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did he think she wouldn’t have accounted for the fact that he’d grab at her leg? maybe she was just a dirty fighter, for under him, supposedly under his advantage, she grinned, jubilantly at that. what did he take her for, a woman without the upper body strength to support her own weight after he’d caught her? she braced her elbows against the concrete, almost lazily, ejecting her shin blades from between the bones of her lower legs to stun his grip away.
she’d resolved herself not to use any abilities against him, after all, to hold her stance, but she felt no qualms against surprising the Lancer class Servant with her own blades. she lay there almost lazily for a moment, testing his thoughts with a stern gaze.
once dropped, nina bent her knees in tight, curled towards her abdomen, and rolled the weight of her body onto the balls of her feet, coming to her balance again quickly. she wasted no time in wielding her nodachi into another low, arcing strike, aiming to meet blades with the eirei head on this time. it had to have been confusing, after all, watching a woman fighting with a longsword move in preference to martial combat.
perhaps it was a tease, deciding to play it so vanilla. still. there was always excitement in her eyes, when given a chance at a proper fight. she could only imagine how strong he’d be if fully unlocked … the thought provoked the embers of black flames to lick at her toes, an old habit. she’d have jumped all too quickly into flaring up in a spar this exciting in her earlier days, after all!
“ why wait until after, anyway? my name is nina, you know. ”
Lancer tossed the naginata on the floor, intentionally.
There was a look in his eyes that would sure string familiar with her, one filled with evident disgust. He was offended and he was not about to hide such a fact from her, nor explain why exactly he opted to put an end to what could have been an enjoyable battle between the two. Even Scathach whose strength was far superior to anyone followed the rules, though unspoken, every warrior facing an opponent should automatically know. He knew naught of the land she belonged in and if that was simply how she had taught herself to fight and scream 'fair', then he was not going to join her in her dance.
It was shameful. He was even beginning to find it fun.
His right hand was bleeding, thanks to the blades that weren't included in the weapon list. As a man, he had already accepted the given handicap and abide by her wants merely to entertain her for a time, in turn giving him the information he wanted out of her. For it to end up with a battle that lacked pride in it was truthfully far from the spearman's expectation. Maybe it was foolish of him to hope that other people in this city knew of fighting etiquette. There were no restrictions to be had here. At least he was thankful for that humiliating truth. Letting the blood trickle from his hand, he was prepared to withdraw from the scene, but felt as if it would be disrespectful of him. It might be best to hear her permit his leave instead, or say something about that bullshit she pulled out of nowhere.
"I remember ya' now. 'cept I didn't remember ya ta' be that bad."
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He decided to give the other the benefit of the doubt.
Examining his target, the next viewing would be assuming what class his strange companion was under. While it only ever mattered in terms of combat, he would still like to know what to call such a person, not by just referring to him without knowing that much. That isn't to say Lancer had picked a truce, but more so understanding that indeed, violence was unneeded for now. If he truly wished to resolve a matter, a civil talk should be more than enough, though he did prefer a good fight above all.
Avoiding negligence, he easily dismissed the qualifications some classes would have. He did not scratch out the possibility of this unknown Servant hiding his Noble Phantasm, so it was still not safe to assume he could only be an Assassin or a Caster-classed Servant. To leave these guesses confined would make do for now as there were important matters to be discussed. First was the creepy worshipping he just witnessed earlier. If he was to look again, he's quite sure that woman in the photo was Saber herself. Does that imply her being in the city?
He would ask this obssessed man and his connection with the King of Britain. However, seeing as he appeared occupied with other matters, Lancer decided to put it in his mental list of so many question to ask this old man, but so little time to gather answers. Rolling his eyes, he lowered his weapon and followed suit. Never the man to underestimate his opponents, whether he was being bluffed or deceived, fooled by this Servant with a pair of eyes too hard to avoid, it was still not within him to suspect that given statement. Though... pretty sure his middle name is overly attached ex-boyfriend and not reckless.
"Where d'ya suppose ta' lead me towards, eh?" The spearman before followed without harnessing a query or two in regards to everything he had seen. As such, it was about time he opened his mouth and not add into the piercing silence that wrapped the area. The ambiance was far from friendly, it would not render him aback if something would crawl out of the wood works without so much as a warning. "So you've been here longer than I." Again, the name. If he didn't want to tell his specific class, just saying something like 'call me punkass' would help.
Nothing much to do without risking first.
"Name's Lancer," he snorted and merely chuckled at his own ridiculous surrender. "Mean, o'course it was that obvious. I was carryin' a wooden spear after all." The other, however, was something else. "With that book, I'm placin' my bet that yer ain't a Saber or Archer at least. Meanin' no disrespect, but ya kinda don't have that air around ya." And there he was mistaken. Perhaps this Gilles was no knight, but surely he was.
Gilles De Rais was in the make shift cemetery laying forget-me-nots, dandelions and lilies on a grave that had a picture of a saint and the words etched beneath it “here lies she who forgot me and I never forgot her”. Looking at the monster in that setting would make most question if he truly was a monster. His hair flowing down to his shoulder blade, a simple shirt on and jeans, the madman looked nothing like the menace that most would describe him.
“I will always love you and protect you, my saint”
He had been deep in thought that he did not notice the hostility from the other. His bulging eyes seemed to ironically align just for a little bit as he straightened himself and turned around, his man purse to his side and the dreaded book inside, looking back he would see the blue haired male with crimson eyes speaking to him as he tilted his head and processed the words.
“Yes and no, I used to take souls when I first came here, but I no longer do that, though I see no reason to tell you that”
It was perhaps the fact that he found someone who he felt a sort of familial ties to. Or perhaps he had a change of heart, the caster chuckled at the second thought. No, it was the first reason that made him change his heart. A being that decided to become a hero and take the form of the saint. It was something of a group meeting but at the same time, as the days went by he found himself pitying the soul. An abused soul in his eyes. But he was digressing in his thoughts as he looked at the other and raised his hands:
“As you can see, I am unarmed. The district is just filled with these noises and most of the criminals are in this place. I have no use for it, though, pity to find another Servant in this place, care for a walk?”
Gilles did not even stop as he began to walk, heading toward the entry of the land. It was not out of disrespect but rather out of a sense of change. No need to lie to the other, and truth was there was no need to do anything really violent, his saint would not approve of it.
“Though I would like to mention that violence is not the answer, especially I would not recommend using violence against myself, you can tell how dangerous I am”
It was a bluff, but he was dangerous in his own right. Reckless was his middle name and he really did not want to deal with the man before him, not in a combat method but rather just have an intellectual talk with the other. His hand was on his book in the event the other decided to attack but other than that he continued his walk.
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Lancer is my favorite smug anime girl.
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;^)
hey baby (;how ya doin (;
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Cu stop trying to seduce young girls.
"Seduce's kinda an offensive way ta' put it. It ain't my fault I'm irresistible, ya see..."
#;ask#please free me im just here to make friends#crosses fingers#maybE BEST FRIENDS#WIPES SWEAT OFF OF MY BROWS#Anonymous
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She did not just...
Oh, well. She was just messing around his head... or was she...?
All the ol' Cu Chulainn could do was give her a befuddled gaze, disbelief drawn across every corner of his beautiful face ( damn right, he's beautiful ) and his lips thinned at the cruel thought. The Caster-classed Servant of the Fifth Heaven's feel had a peculiar pair of ears too, and that one woman he saw on the streets. It did not unnerve him at all, but he somehow found rabbit ears disconcerting. Hey, he was no bunny hater. Still... he couldn't name a Servant with that kind biological feature. Well, of course, not counting the Servants he met in other wars he was not made fit to remember as per the grail's will.
Shifting his unease glance onto the ground, Lancer stomped his foot. The rhythm of his stomping was slow at first. Anxiety kicked in, the curiosity irking him as seconds passed and the pace of his movement picked up. He moved his body to face her once more, only to leave his mouth opened and not have anything to say. What was it that he wanted to ask again? It simply crawled off of his head. How convenient. Surrendering to his frustration, he irritatedly blinked and scratched the nape of his neck. Nothing wrong with just tossing a few questions at her direction, eh? Seems like they're both passing the time anyway, waiting for the little show to start and allow the audience to finally enter their booth.
"So, about yer matchin' tail." Did he ask too bluntly? If that's the case then she should get used to it. Cu Chulainn was not about to tone himself down when the unknown strikes to take him down. Surely she'd do him the utmost favor to satiate whatever thirst for knowledge he currently has, eh? "Uhm, yer a real rabbit person then? Like, no joke or somethin'? It ain't April Fool's Day no more, ya know that, right? Tell the truth now, lass."
There were still plenty of sights in this city Reisen never really thought about looking into. The zoo is one such example. It left conflicting feelings within her to see the small petting zoo. The Kids bleating for pellets as children fed and/or teased them with the food. The chickens squawking helplessly as they chased them around the pen. And the rabbits… The kids were most gentle with them, so that was nice. But one child refused to release one of them and threatened to take it home with them, much to the little lagomorph’s dismay. Reisen wasn’t exactly about to let that happen. Gently, she scolded the child and convinced him into letting the rabbit go, to hop around with it’s friends. They obliged, but not before commenting on how much of a ‘bunny lover’ she was; remarking she was obsessed due to her ears.
After that was said and done, a mentally exhausted lunarian trudged through the rest of the area, taking in the scenery. She even took a quick stroll throughout the butterfly exhibit, so that lifted her spirits. Even on her trip to the Lion’s den, she took note of the other animals on display… Was that a tiny pink horse? Well, on arrival to this city, she did say this place was a melting pot of cultures, species, humanoids, ect, ect… She didn’t know if seeing the ‘Little Pony’ was surprising or not.
Reaching her destination, she checked the times for the exhibit. Closed. Well at least it would open soon. No harm in waiting… Might as well take a seat and wait for a bit. Busying herself with her phone; checking missed texts, the news, various things. Ear Twitch. Not alone anymore… Peering over, she eyed the mail who seemed to be busy studying her in return. He looked familiar too…
“Accessory? Ah-heh… No, they’re genuine…” She grinned. Internally, she sighed. Her ears were always a hot topic… “But I do have a ‘matching tail’, yes… It comes with the ears… Had ‘em since birth…”
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when will you give Caren these hands
“...right now.”
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Who would Cu bang: Scathach, Rin or Bazette.
“What if I banged ‘em all already?”
#;ask#im cryING NO STOP#WHY AM I GETTING RANDOM ASK NOW#shh fly away u sinner#this is a no sin blog#crosses my fingers#u saw nothing?#Anonymous
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He was really pushing it, eh? Even going as far as to repeat what casual insult his small brain could muster at such a trivial time. Had he picked himself up and backed away, it would've been all too easy. They might even become friends as they were originally on the same side. Now though, witnessing this kid's attitude personally, Lancer could understand why the folks wanted to beat his nasty ass to the ground. It was exhilarating, to be underestimated by some rowdy brat who thinks too much of the world. The spearman wouldn't mind pulverizing each of his toenails tonight.
And he nonchalantly let the asshole get as close as his courage allowed him. It was admirable, how he thought of himself higher than most. Maybe it's true and he's not bluffing about being powerful. In any case, should Lancer lose this fight in the end, he'll make sure to accept his defeat as any hero would. However, the battle has yet to start and he sure as hell won't back down despite being handicapped. If he was to fight with his full strength, he'd stand more than just a chance. It's a given fact that he'd win.
Thus, the blue spearman was tossed aside with a single casting of an unknown spell, or so he assumed it was it. Still, what this foolish infant didn't know that he was made to deal with that kind of violence-- to be thrown and learn how to kick back and not fall from the shove. Cu Chulainn would leap above, a quick display of his signature move that took the heart of Uathach in a single day. His body in the air declared his experience as a warrior, more descriptive than any tales could ever tell. Hell, not even the legends about him give his bestial valor justice.
Rolling back afterwards, his foot pressed further to put a halting to his speeding self. The ground was plastered with the friction the sole of his shoes had created. Even still, he stood there. Cu Chulainn never fell.
"Was that all yer small hands could do?"
With that cocky attitude and boisterous tone, he not surprised that this person that had initially come to his aid would show their frustrations on being called such. Of course, he did not look his age and he seemed more like a young noisy adolescent that was still growing up. Who would expect that he would be thousands of years old?
Upon the man in blue’s actions, the other thugs were confused. There were a few that took the chance to escape while the others were contemplating on taking the opportunity to attack. Though, they seem to have figured that this man in blue would not be an easy opponent as well.
The sword slipped from his hand on his own and the woman materialized and wielded the weapon. By the looks of it, she was about to strike down the blue stranger but she was stopped when Reiku held up his hand.
“What the hell are you going about, kid?” Once more, the name calling. “I call it as I see it. You’d need to age a few more years before you gain the right not to be called such.”
He placed his right hand on the man’s shoulder and chuckled a bit. He had no idea what kind of person he was but they didn’t seem normal. At least, their fashion sense wasn’t. Those blue tight clothes would definitely stand out.
{ᛏ}
“If you wanted a beating, all you have to do was say so,” the rune for Teiwaz would then etch itself on the back of the hand that he had placed on the stranger’s shoulder. With a flick of his wrist, he would then apply force to push the man back. Being a homunculus and one of old age, he already was above average in strength compared to an adult human. The rune would further enhance this and the force can be a bit surprising.
A normal human being would fly back a couple of meters, probably even off their feet, if caught off guard.
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i'm so happy you're back YOU'RE SUCH A GOOD CU
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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First he had beaten a great number of wolves, those beasts who took advantage of his lack of weaponry that one time he took the idiotic notion to wander alone. Always was he fearless, always was he uncaring of the looming danger all around him. All his life he had bled and wasted his sweat awaiting for enemies that would never come. A challenge was never turned down by him, yet the lack of welcoming surprises astounded him somehow and he was soon unsettled by the loud and cacophonous noise, his sharp senses telling him it was just nearby.
At least for a fellow who could hear infinitely better than a normal human being.
Not in a rush, his footsteps were slow and lazy, almost uncertain if what lies beneath would tickle his simple curiosity. Munch, munch, munch. The night was far from eerie, discomfort never allowed to cease with him or else a spear will greet them and bury them to the ground. Sharp exhales could be heard from various directions and he had to stop for a short moment to find where exactly was it coming from-- the unearthly hollow but athirst voice. Should the moon open its eyes, would it tell him the answer to his grievous question?
Perhaps.
Tch, seriously. Aversion existent, yet to be judgmental did not cross his mind at all. Servants feed onto humans when their Masters cannot provide the magical energy they need. It'd be hypocritical to call her out, a pot calling a kettle black.
"Heh..." A little cocky and ill-mannered, ain't she? She's attractive, alright. He'll let it pass. "Was I s'pposed ta' ask if ya' wanna hook up with that thing in yer mouth?"
❦ @burudogu
❧░ A CLOUDLESS NIGHT speckled with glowing stars above. A seemingly pleasant evening if only the more unsavory citizens chose not to make an appearance. Peace was never the case in The Hive and little could be done to combat what chaos unfolded on a daily basis. What a liberating environment for a beast, to be able to avoid all hunters on her trail with ease as they could never do the damage inspectors were capable of. No doubt that her meals had gotten sloppier upon discovering just how little caution was needed to remain in the shadows.
There were always exceptions, of course, special occasions. When those found themselves in the lion’s den without knowledge of such, dealt a most unfortunate hand by whichever deity of their choice. Today’s visitor did little to further her appetite as her last meal lay in bloodied shambles before her. Lurking among the humans were the most peculiar beings. However outlandish and intriguing they may be the Ghoul had little business with those she could not consume.
❝ There’s nothing I hate more than being interrupted while I’m trying to eat. ❞ Doused in crimson remains little was done to tidy her appearance. Luminous irises gleamed in their darkened pools, malice alight in hardened gaze. ❝ Are you just going to stand there after all of that? ❞ A dampened violet strand was tossed over her shoulder in an act of discontent. ❝ What a shitty attitude to have with someone you were just so rude to. ❞
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uses a command seal to make u smack yourself.
ur dead to me, kotomine…
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Putting himself in her shoes, he could only imagine how embarrassing it was for her. And so, as to provide her a space reasonable enough, Cu Chulainn nudged himself away. However, he remained before her and took a seat. He was not about to stand up until he's certain she can handle herself fine. Of course he could do something better like help her get back up on her feet. Still, he restricted himself from the gallant idea and let her do as she wishes. If anything, he had noticed that her pride was already damage enough. There was no need to further the discomfort around her.
Though, she's quite cute with that heated expression.
In which Lancer would give the time to appreciate. He was in no rush after all, simply awaiting for her to gain her senses properly and hopefully for her head to stop from bleeding. He'd offer to wipe it up some more, but maybe she didn't like the way he had touched her without permission.
"If ya' feel bad, it was nothin'." If only.
What was more embarrassing than a witch who could not fly? Why, one that misjudged her magic, of course. Thus why she felt the damage to her pride much sooner than the ones to her body. That, coupled with the pressure of someone on top of her and the blood on her face, left her with only groans and mumbles instead of a grand monologue.
Yet, at the sudden touch of his thumb and the cloth, Beato tried to quickly sit herself upright, only to feel several surges of pain from her back and head. So much for saving any face.
The image of the man she’d fell upon slowly came into view, her eyes finally stopping their blurring. Blue hair, red eyes – a completely new face to her. She flinched at his touch, and at the pain. The more her thoughts came back to her, the more she was surprised the man didn’t lash out in anger. For who liked getting a person fallen on them?
Still, Beatrice was at quite the loss for words.
“Uh… Well…”
Very elegant indeed.
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Fair enough. Oh, he did like women who weren't easy to get, but there's also the notion that those who give in so easily are after for the same kind of fun. Not that he found it a shame. Even ladies were allowed to be promiscuous after all. "Call me Lancer," he announced his representing class with a smitten look. Far from his actual name, it would make do nonetheless. "Yours?"
❛ A nameless man is a friend till he proves himself to be otherwise, though here we stand upon common ground. ❜ a tilt of head, low hum to thrum from the depths of her throat. ❛ You failed to ask it of me, ser; ever more curious as to what I was seeking at this hour, it seemed. Now I ask it of you – for the sake of knowing. ❜
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