[Gallagher]

Pelles of legend, the most powerful servant in all of the Holy Grail War, the most powerful of any war, absolutely would not stop talking. And there was that, that sound. Luci didn't know what it was, but it was surely disgusting, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Mousse whined, little claws tapping against the floor as it stood up on its hind legs, an odd dance to get Lancer's attention. "Mouais, mouais, I'm coming." She tossed her blankets and sheets off, and pulled herself up out of bed.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Watching impassively as his Master tends to her pet, Pelles addresses her once more. "I will accompany you outside, should you permit it. Despite the geas cast upon us by Ruler, I do not discount the likes of Assassin finding some way to elude the binding of a Command Spell."

In truth, he would like nothing more than for one of their enemies to come declare themselves in open challenge. This waiting gnaws at him. The Fisher-King waited a lifetime for others to earn the redemption of the world, only to fail. To disgrace themselves utterly. Despicable ingrates. Charlatans of valor and virtue! Rancid and rotting in their shimmering armor, decadent upon the throne of Holy Britain, cavorting in the mask of grace while the earth roiled and revolted against their sins! No, there were none human fit for the Grail. This World, libertine and wastrel, did not deserve it. No soul bound in rude matter would ever receive salvation. They had cast aside that right long ago.

[Gallagher]

It didn't look as if he'd be able to buy something else to eat here, with all of the confusion and fright. When he heard Saber's voice next to him, Erik turned towards it as if he could, in fact, see the man. He couldn't, but it was polite. "You shouldn't go around fighting things outside of the war. It's not going to get us very far, and some of them are probably nice people."

[Gallagher]

"That's fine, Lancer." Luci didn't so much as look at the king, shuffling across the room to pick up one of Mousse's discarded sweaters from off the floor. The little beast pranced to her side, wagging its tail so hard its rear legs almost came off the floor. "Hold still, you." Mousse did no such thing, its wings flapping with every attempt to get the bubblegum pink, doggie bone embroidered turtleneck on any farther than its shoulders. Lucienne just sighed.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Watching the odd spectacle, the King of Carbonec questions with distant interest, "I am but a lowly Servant, mistress, and unwise in the ways of this changèd world, but for what do you struggle to dress this Mousse as though it were a child? Of the few talents I possess, recognizing affronts to nature is one I would esteem among my greatest, and your creature would seem to agree. It disdains your chosen regalia, if I am any judge."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"Well... yeah. Like that one!" Merlin points at the nearest officer, who wavers on his feet as the sleeping curse works upon him. "Just last weekend, he turned down overtime to take his kids to the zoo! Oh gods, did he just hit his head on the curb?! Healing spell, healing spell, how did it go..."

As she rushes over to check on her unfortunate victims, the great wizard calls back to her new friend. "Hey, um, so you guys know we're having a meeting with the other Masters tomorrow morning, right? Do you need directions or anything?"

She turns her attention to the vacant air around Erik. "And as for you! You just have a nice, long think about what you did wrong! Just cause I said no fighting each other yet doesn't mean you can just take out your aggression on random people! They're nice enough to let us have a death-tournament in their city and this is how you thank them!?"

[Doctor Gabriel]

Mr. Kite could tell she was thinking the word babe and that knowledge brought a scowl to his face. He’d worked with enough lowlifes and scumbags to get an idea of what went on inside their heads. Irritation building with every second spent with this woman, he plopped himself down on the curb.

He looked down at the intricate crimson crest emblazoned on his right hand.

I could do it.

One little Command Seal and I could make her treat me with even a hint of goddamn respect.

I could make her treat me, if not like her Master, at least like a fucking equal.

What’s one little absolute order compared to having to put up with the condescending aura seeping from every pore of this greasy cunt’s being for this entire ordeal?

He shot a bitter glance at his new partner in crime then sighed bitterly, took a swig from a golden flask hidden in his coat pocket, and lit another cigarette.

Bitch ain’t worth it. Although…

Mr. Kite turned back toward her with rather bored eyes, his typical mask of courtesy and charisma tucked away after obviously only making her impression of him worse.

“Would you mind cutting yourself for me?”

[Doctor Gabriel]

Had Don Quixote’s face been visible at the moment, anyone who saw it would think he looked like a scolded puppy.

“I… I beg your forgiveness, Mi Rey,” he choked out in a confused and pained voice, “I believed them cut throat blaggards… I shall refrain from engaging in any other battles without your specific order…”

Saber’s formless self shrunk with the weight of his shame. He’d dishonored his king and what’s more he nearly harmed apparent innocents in the process. A knight was meant to be a gleaming champion of his lord’s rule and protect innocents, not attack them. He’d never felt like such a failure in his life.

“You’ll… still allow me to serve you, won’t you Master?” he asked in a meak and desperate tone.

[Gallagher]

"For your information," Luci pressed down on the beast's wing and quickly tugged one side of its sweater down, "this is not a mage controlled hotel." Mousse whined while she attempted to pull the other side down in the same way. "And I don't want to waste my energy on every nobody that happens to see my little Mousse." A few flaps of its wings freeing the trapped limb. Luci threw her hands up with an exasperated shout. "Merde, merde, you rotten little thing! Rotten, horrible, useless little monster!"

[Gallagher]

"Is there a zoo around here?" Erik asked the great wizard, but upon hearing his servant's voice again, he blinked and looked in that direction once more. "Oh. Yes. I don't think refraining from any other battles is a good idea. I might not be able to give you an order if I'm attacked. Maybe just..." Just what, however, Erik never said. He looked to Merlin. "Before the zoo, we're supposed to find the house we're staying in, and attend a meeting. Do you know the way to either?"

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Focusing on Ell, he realizes the contrast in their dress. "I see. Yes, in such a modern setting, I am likely to be mistaken for a tourist attraction in such garb. It is not to our benefit to draw a crowd." He looks down at himself and swipes at his robes, as if brushing off some stubborn dust, and abruptly looks up to Ell a much younger and more casual looking man: Fair hair falling in waves to just above his shoulders, paint stained denim jeans, and a t-shirt bearing the Virtruvian Man. Younger eyes and a younger smile look at Ell from beneath the same crooked red cap.

Rider turns to the door but pauses while reaching for the knob, turning back to his master. "We haven't exchanged names." He thinks for a moment. "I am thus far called Rider, yes? Bland, but functional for the purposes of the day. What am I to call you?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"I would offer my assistance, mistress, but alas, I fear I would only work further ruin in this unfortunate happenstance. Once, as I sat upon the shore Listenois, I thought to share a crust of bread with a passing drake..." The wounded king sighs in remembered despair. "Yet so dolorous was my cursed reign in those days, that the drake instead sank ungrateful teeth into the hand that would have given it succor." A burdensome moment passes as he recollects the pain. "I did not deny it purchase in my flesh. I felt the suffering condign to my condemnation."

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"Oh, you're lost? No wonder you're all the way out here!" Merlin heads back over to Erik. "Sure, let me just see. Clairvoyance, activate!" The great wizard places her fingertips to her forehead, hunching over and concentrating really hard, slowly turning in a circle.

After a moment, she gives up, letting her head hang dejectedly. "All the names of the streets have funny squiggle-letters in them and I don't know how to say them." She sniffles for effect. Then immediately perks up with a grin. "I know! Why don't you guys just come stay with me at the cathedral until you figure it out??? We can divvy up the rest of the snacks when get back."

Grabbing Erik's hand, she starts to tug him along. "Come on, it's this way!"

[notDEADyet]

His change was impressive. Really, she wasn't expecting any less. That's what he was around for, to be impressive. She was sure she could have done something similar. If she wanted.

But she didn't.

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, that is rude, huh?" She took the time to make sure that the door was completely secure. "I'm Ell."

[Poggio]

Mary turned to address her master only to see the sullen convex shape of a man slumped with a golden flask perched against his lips. He turned and spoke, but she didn't hear him across the length of the courtyard. She waited until he was about to take another long drink before plucking the gold piece from his fingers. When the metal didn't warm and meld to her touch, she saw through its glamour. It wasn't worth the weight of the slop that sloshed around inside. Whether or not it was important didn't factor into her brain. She was holding it hostage until she could have his attention.

The Pirate stepped off the curve onto the stream of growing tourist. She crouched a distance away from Mr. Kite, making sure she could level her gaze with hers. She spoke with tone was not of anger, but of a person speaking to a friend.

“Hark, 'n Listen closeth ye sullen child.”She paused only to switch the flask into another hand keeping it away from Mr. Kite.” Ye choose gre’d.Ye choose t' fight, 'n ye choose Berserk’r-” She brought the flask to her nose, but when the smell did not suit her taste, Mary tipped the rest of the liquid onto the ground letting it bleed on to the cobblestones.

“Ye be... depress’d. Ye showeth no real heart f’r the grail. Th're art six oth'r classes. six oth'rs who hast m're heart, who will not hesitate t’ murd'r ye.”

At this point she stood up and clinched a fist around the golden flask. With a small amount of magic, the flask transformed into a withered piece of weather worn parchment covered in gunpowder. She let the paper, that now marked a spot in Le Rhone, float down into the man’s lap.

“Thar be an art t' th' Jolly Roger. 'tis m're than a desire f'r treasure. 'tis life. Are ye certain ye wants t' die f’r this Holy Grail??” Her voice never raised beyond her normal speaking tones. “Ye are a child-” she gestured at his whole posture and brooding facade. Children still grow, say for the ones that perish, still full of foolhardy dreams.

There was no point in wasting more mana, or stealing it from a novice that didn’t even know what was going on. Mary backed away from from Mr. Kite shaking her head. She disappeared just as she came, shocking the curious onlookers into thinking a tire had busted, or the palace had a cannon display. A curl of grey dust swept where the woman once stood, dissipating until there was no trace

[Gallagher]

It took more than a few shoves to get both of the dog's wings to stay down long enough for Luci to slide the sweater down all the way, the unsightly lumps they made in the material vanishing as soon as it was in place. "I'm sure that drake was being very rude, Lancer," she remarked as she slogged over to her wardrobe. "Now, would you be so kind as to put on the little beast's leash for me?"