Forgotten

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    EVEN THIS FEELS LIKE PROGRESS, no matter how trivial it seems in the grand scheme of things. Wishing for an immediate remedy would be a fool’s wish, and though she struggles to cope with the distance between them, she savors his presence while it lingers. Even as they dispel the beasts, she cannot think of the proper words to occupy the silence, and in the end, elects for it to stay. 

     She mustn’t allow it for long, however. Knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave as promptly as he came, she waits until they’ve vacated the premise before falling an audible foot’s pace behind him. Hesitation suspends her, but only for a brief moment. “…Shirou.” It was but one word, but it felt… sufficient. Enough to clarify her state of mind and the condition of her memories. She braces herself from thereon – though for what, she’s uncertain.

      “…The beasts were but a coincidence; my end goal has no relation to them.”

♐ ] Weakness will never suit the woman. It was an opinion he had long held, and remained true in his eyes even to this day. Despite how conflicted his stance was in this moment, those other views and details would be ignored as so words could be given from the man. Pausing from his steady walking pace, an indication to listen comes. “This isn’t a flattering look on you, Arturia.” What would her followers say if they saw the mighty king so meekly resonating?

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  DOES HE BELIEVE IN THE RED STRING OF FATE? Destiny could be considered a debacle at this point with the nature of their ordained meetings and the tragedy they behold, but if one were to ask her… there exists a reason for it all. Three realms traveled over the span of a mere lifetime ( aspects of it owed to them being Servants, surely ) and they persistently wind up in one another’s company.

  No matter the location of her summons, her eyes always seek his red mantle. Pursues it, perhaps, despite the willful ignorance on his behalf. Yet, if she were to let her thoughts transpire and revel in fantasies, reunions would remain conceptualized; she has to give chase, and even here, in this fantasy world, she does as such and concedes upon him and a few straggling beasts.

    “–It looked like you were in need of aid. My apologies for the intrusion.”

♐ ] Running away is nothing new to this man. Head on conflict has never been a strength of his, a statement that would remain true in this situation. It had taken but a moment to recognize features, to recall memories that were long forgotten. Yet there is no urgency within him to speak, no drive to re-familiarize with her. While happiness did spurt itself from ashes, in the same shade pain existed with.

It’s bittersweet. He’s hesitant to act. For one reason or another, he says nothing at first. Nothing but simple words. “Those aren’t the beasts, if your goal is what I think it is.” Recovering arrows he’d been reusing, some more worn than others would be unrecoverable as he lets out a sigh. “But, thanks regardless.” Trouble saved earns her that much, before he turns his back to. Certainly, he did not have the right words for at this time. Though it would seem neither did she. If nothing else, keeping within shouting distance was fine. Even if it was just silence shared, it was better than nothing at all. “You may as well accompany me. If our end goal is the same there is no reason not to join forces, correct?”

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    BRUTISH IS… ONE MANNER OF DESCRIBING IT. Familiarized with melee-style combat as she is, one would be asinine to prefer it in an age of armaments. ‘Specially so when their foes boast maws larger than they, themselves. Still, she cannot afford to distribute her attention between him and the demanding disarray. If one could command her solely, it would be him. It would be him, over and over again, but she finds herself wrestling these inhibitions to serve as a lover over a protector – something she’s never had the displeasure of doing before. Even as she fends off the monstrosities, her eyes cannot help but flitter back to where they feel they must.

    “Archer, please, bear caution. Materialize your weapons if you must. Disregard me if you must.” So long as he perseveres, she will cope with the hand she’s dealt. …As it appears that she will have to. Knee-deep in corpses ( of what, or who, she cannot tell ), she realizes that the fissures above their heads have only had time to multiply, and are soon bound to give. The sounds of cracking glass can scarcely be heard over the inhumane screeching of the leviathans, but she hears it. She’s conscious of it, even as she steadily falls behind to enable the escape of countless others – even as his back gradually grows distant and threatens to become the last thing she sees.

♐ ] What was his duty but hardship all in all. The struggle to manage, to overcome regardless of circumstances whilst bearing with conditions set upon him. This is nothing new to the man, he knows this feeling all too well. Protection was minimal but doable, as bruises began to mount and their numbers thin. Bloody and battered however, eventually a path is paved. A route to the surface secured, though it was only then when realization hits. He stood alone, while the most important thing to him was missing. Had she taken it upon herself to keep at the bottom? Was she truly a fool after what he said? Words would reserve themselves for when he meets her again, if such a possibility still existed as he dashes to see what became of her.

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    HAVE IT HIS WAY, THEN. Better to compromise than wrangle the shoulds and shouldn’ts of strife. Contributing to the ongoing chaos would be of no merit in any case, not when her mind is polluted with innumerable distractions. Between Dun Stallion’s struggle to gallop through the rising sea levels and the sound of discourse steadfast on the horizon, Archer’s words fall on deaf ears. Only when the larval leviathans emerge does she think to speak, ire sparking a fire in her eyes as they observe the ones that perished.

   “…No. You were correct in placing reservations. When I find it necessary, I will ask you then. For now, we will make do with what we can find. Look around you, Archer, there are items we can use.” Dismounting, she relinquishes her mare from the calf-deep water and selects a neighboring object on the ground – an unidentifiable rod that appears to have fractured from its original structure – and proceeds to combat those that threatened the fleeing civilians. “Look ahead. Those stairs they flock to, is that our only method of escape? Gods, of all the unreasonable methods…”

♐ ] Desperate times called for desperate measures. These poor tools weren’t much, but it was all they could work with for now. While he wasn’t too keen on the thought of this improvisation.. fine then, let her be stubborn despite his own decisions. So long the two don’t face conflict while working with one another on the battlefield it wasn’t an issue to him. Taking note of the distance to the exit, his head would slouch before neck would move it back and forth to form a shake. “So it seems. It was as if this had been planned all along.” A trap in full view, the best type if he’s to give credit where it is due.

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    AH, YES! SHE DOES RECALL ARCHIVING THOSE PROMISES A FORTNITE AGO; how he’d dismissed any urgency to attain armaments despite it being a chief concern of hers. ‘I warned you’ are the words she wishes to say, but knows aren’t necessary. Instead, her gaze will tend to her disappointment accordingly as they fleet down the stairwells. “Hm. I see. I was hoping to divulge your abilities, but that will have to wait until we are safe. Nevermind our vehicle or belongings; we’ve no longer the room for them.”

     What is a motorbike to a well-groomed steed, in any case? The finale of her footfalls ignite aureate spheres ‘neath her heels, Celtic enchantments adrift lips as fingers pattern runes mid-air. Breaths later, her beloved mare materializes and she wastes no time coaxing Archer on, setting off as soon as he’s secured. “Though I’ve not seen your abilities, I trust that you are proficient enough to be left alone. Ideally, Archer, we will maintain separation to guard both ends. These beasts will not discriminate.”

♐ ] It would take some hard pressing to get him to play along for one reason or another, but at the very least he’ll accept the notion on the grounds it would be rest before their arrival. All things considered, who knew how things would unfold from here on out. Still, back to subject of projection. “I can only recreate two items a day from my understanding. Should you wish to take one of those.. I suppose it could be acceptable. Although given what we are facing I would rather keep some flexibility.” Leaving the man with only one projection left him at a massive disadvantage. Not more than he already faced, but it would definitely bring attention to his crippled state.

Strategy leaves much to be wanted, though. Enough to motivate him to voice disagreement to thought. “If I could manage with distant support, I would say that’s wise. But, that isn’t how it is now.” He is no more than a foot soldier at the moment, capable with his limbs enough to improvise them as weapons. In other words blunt lethality that would have to do. “No. You lead the charge. Surely even if people feel themselves grow weak, I’m confident you can command them back to action.” She was a leader, it only made sense to emphasis that strength. Thus.. she needed a weapon. While he rather not, it did seem ideal. As they cover ground and near the escape path, he starts with his plan. “Describe to me a weapon that can lead us to victory, Arturia. The shape, the details, the color.” Give him an image, and he should be able to create it While he leaned the other way to start, she had convinced him with his thoughts.

“A lost child is comparable to an animal if it’s something you have an attachment to! Who are you to say the significance of someone to another person’s life?– Not to mention, cats are smart! When they bring us things like animals they’ve hunted its because they believe we can’t hunt for ourselves.” He wanted to say harsher words, but that wouldn’t exactly convince the other to help him out further, would it? Either way, he at least wanted to make it clear that Little John was important to him. Leo lets out a shaky sigh, rubbing his arm in memory. Whilst he was by no means a warrior, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t risk his life again for this cat.

Raising a hand and ruffling it through his mess of orange hair, Leo let out a sigh. Bait… As if he’d have bait for a cat. No, he had treats and toys.  Fishing into the pocket of his hoodie, he produces a small bell on some ribbon, walking up to Archer and shoving it at his chest. “Jingle that! Little John recognizes that bell because I’d use it to call her for food.” It was also a noise that currently sounded more pleasant than this man’s voice to Leo, so at least he could hear the chime of a beautiful bell rather than cynicism. 

♐ ] It was a difficult task in all honesty. Every nerve in his body was telling him to reprimand the other for his foolishness, as they uttered words that couldn’t be closer to the truth. Though perhaps not in a way he thought, as the figure was an executioner once after all. But instead of correcting he’d settle on a grunt of annoyance, rolling his eyes as the other went on. “You’re not wrong about that. Cats definitely outsmarted us.” More so the other with how attached he got, but he wouldn’t judge too much. At least, until danger appears if it does.

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   DISADVANTAGEOUS AS IT WERE, their inept altruism will not permit cowardice to have a say in matters. Arturia cannot swim – something she’s not disclosed to the sharpshooter beside her despite how… imperative it now seems. Nor will she as their short-lived memories stained with trial and tribulations condense into a cardboard box. Taking a stand, she takes a final glance at the items destined to be buried beneath the ocean floor and turns to him. She understands his implications perfectly.

   Threads of leisure glimmer gold and collapse into a cascade of mana. In its wake is King Arthur’s full regalia, the weight of her mantle heavy ‘pon her shoulders and crown ever the familiar comfort ‘pon her head. It is the first time her kingship has been displayed to him, and the first time she’s disclosed her proficiency in magic. ( Or so it feels. ) Only… her hands are rather empty. “Some weeks ago, you assuaged my worries concerning weaponry. Now is the time to do so again; I’m capable of wielding all but axes and knives. Lances and greatswords are my preference.”

♐ ] A commanding aura consumes him as she takes shape in what he could only assume to be her kingly wear. Certainly it wasn’t difficult to see now how she demanded such respect from her subjects, just merely standing before her now was a challenge to him as knees almost felt obligated to be placed against the ground. Surely, this was her charisma at work. Still there is no time for compliments, only action and results. Taking what was needed, his backpack would hold his own personal bottle before handling the other to her. If worst comes to, he rather she be prepared and capable to defend herself.

Although Djeeta’s everyday life back in her world consisted of being among amazing people, she’s still bright eyed and quickly impressed when encountering something that catches her attention. It doesn’t cross her mind that perhaps she should calm down or at least slow the genuine praises that continued to pour from her lips. “It’s not about kindness, Archer,” the captain said with a smile, “I really mean it. I think it’s amazing.”

Consider her distracted, she’s more than happy to speak about her world. “Skyfarers are people who sail the skies in airships. It can be dangerous,” she explained. “We fight monsters quite frequently whether when we’re flying to another island or during jobs we take. Most form crews and I’m the captain of the Grandcypher with my own crew!” Her eyes drifted towards the blue sky, a reminiscent glint shone in brown hues. “Our goal is to reach Estalucia and I’m sure one day we will.”

♐ ] Vaguely minding the details, it would seem his assessment was spot on. She was indeed a rouge, cut from a similar cloth to himself. Though maybe a tad brighter in perspective if given a comparison. “So, wandering heroes.” Hand would come up to cup his chin, as he ponders the notion. “For what reason would a Skyfarer reside this area? Your expertise seems less than useful around these parts.” He’s taken no notice of monsters, at least to date.

♐ ] It was a foolish dream to think peace would ever suit the man. Combat after combat, conflict after conflict, the guardian has known trouble since he has set himself upon this path. It was inevitable that even here he'd find himself amidst some sort of calamity, but in a way it was only fitting. That he'd willingly despite his ties to humanity unchained, still wish to help others.

...At the very least, that was the point he wanted to come across when the pair retrieved all their necessary belongings within the hotel room. Instead his words are just inflecting, and rude. "I don't doubt we will survive this. But our duty doesn't end there, does it Arturia?" She was a king, one that thought of her people. And he was a counter guardian, twisted in some way but obligated to do the same. Ignoring those who couldn't help themselves just wasn't in their blood. "We must secure this path for the other inhabitants. You know what that means, right?"

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    WONDERMENT HANGS ON HER TONGUE, but hesitation ceases it as she’s uncertain whether or not inquiring will bring repercussions. Emiya is a man plagued by the ghosts of his past and always has she wondered about the circumstances that brought him to heroism. Childhood tales of gallantry and the like certainly played a role for him as it would have any aspiring knight, but the dedication required for a lifetime of commitment needed… it needed much else. “Since you were a child? …Forgive my intrusion, but typically, are children nowadays not cared for by their parents? Even in the days of old, the image of a father and a mother tending to their child’s hunger was a common one.”

    ‘Twas not their duty to sweat over a stove as it was to mend a blade – such labor was left to the ones with bones too brittle to aid in war. Deep down, she feels as if the answers to all her questions preside in the crevices of her mind, but she cannot find them. Nor does she know from where they come. Alas, her trance is broken by his lilting tongue, teasing as if he did not learn from his earlier mistake. It flusters her this time.

    “A-Archer! I am not gluttonous more than I merely am appreciative.” A true defense! “If you must know, our times required heavy rationing. …Even soldiers only consumed what was necessary. Often, it would be potatoes or thin stews. Wheats were stale as were our ales. It is a reason I enjoy the luxury of wine and dine so passionately here. It was not uncommon for me or others to go days without food – only Sir Gawain could appreciate the conjurings of the castle cook.”

♐ ] Not yet. Come some day in the near future he is sure subject would be spoken more of as she comes to understand him better with each bit of information he offers her, but today this much would be kept under tight lip. Lost in a momentary stare his mind rewinds recalling things he wished he had forgotten, before finally speaking back to her. “I had no mother, and my father was a problem in himself.” More than words could denote in a single setting, so saying a bit now would have to do. He sooner had a preference to her blush in any case, as his melancholic feelings would fade just that easily.

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    WELL ATTUNED TO THE BREVITY OF HER VICTORY, she indulges healthily in her treat, fixing her cravings ‘till the bottom of the bowl gazes back at her in defeat. Competitive spirits truly know no rest. With time, however, is the promise of effort. “Mm? Are you concerned about the travel home, Archer? Worry not. The seat compartment opens to carry cargo. Not an abundant amount, of course, but enough to pair with anything we may seat on our laps.” Besides, given the metropolis’ layout, resident attractions are consolidated into neat blocks. “Let us go, then. We’ve only this stop remaining.”

   Off they’ll go, paying their due respects to those that aided them. The market is a shy block away from their locale, close enough to warrant walking, but far enough to remind them of their circumstances underwater on the approach. “So, pasta then? Pasta, and then you mentioned curry? I haven’t the slightest clue what that may be.” Alas! Wisdom can but be inherited. Or so she believes, but when the glass doors part to reveal a plethora of spices ‘pon shelves and produce ‘pon carts, she’s not an inkling of where to start. “I believe this is where I take my loss and willingly cooperate with you. From the last meal you’ve prepared, I take it that you’ve been keeping your culinary genius a secret from me?”

♐ ] Secrets shown in full view. He hides nothing in that aspect but the wisdom he already had from. But in all reality, “You never asked. Cooking is something I’ve done since I was a child.” Hazy as most things are going that far back, remembering one of the few things he enjoyed was simple enough. “Truth be told I simply had plenty of practice. I wouldn’t say I’m a good cook, just that I’ve had a lot of opportunities.” While he can’t remember the faces now, he knows that he’s fed them. Oddly.. now that he thinks, he can’t help but think. It was as if woman herself, was part of that series. But, given more thought and head would ache so he stops before pain grows too troublesome.

Right, back to matter at hand. “Just curry. Though Pasta isn’t difficult, if you want to learn that as well.” More variety would be a smart thing to imply, lest the woman make nothing but curry. A brief glance over a stall with spices, to which to grabs with diligence and knowledge. Explaining would be good, but serve no purpose in his eyes. Basics however could be shared at least. “Know that there’s a focus to favor. I’m not sure how much spices were important in your time or if that was more in the future, but this is why the food will taste better than likely anything in your time.” Curt, but a likely truth. “What where your common meals anyway, Arturia? I feel as if every time we eat anyway you are always leaving nothing wasted. As if every meal was delicious to you. That.. more maybe you’re gluttonous?” A think crosses to ice cream they just ate. And that she managed most by herself.

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    THE SLY SLEUTH SPEAKS OF FANTASIES not realizing that dead men tell no tales. Blessed is he that she cannot bring him down publicly for the blasphemous barrage of words. No matter how they cripple her so. “Hmph.” ‘Tis all she’s to say on the matter as he mulls over their meal. Thoughts will find a way to parry it all in a dignified matter, desperate to express that dragons belong to no one, but her dignity falls short at the slightest gesture of intimacy.

    One-sided expectations are technically unfair, aren’t they? To expect his willing servitude yet offer none of her own – it is not as if she thinks his hubris deplorable. No, on the contrary, it is alluring under the right circumstances. Gingerly accepting the fed sample, she takes a moment to revel in what she wanted so badly before separating. It was sweet, truly. But not enough. Grappling his suspended wrist, she yanks him forward, her own frame meeting halfway o'er the table as her other palm hooks the back of his neck, granting the leverage necessary for a spectacle-worthy lock of lips. Yes, perhaps it would be wise to forgo expectations of her; she is nothing ordinary. “Certainly, mine is right here. It is everything I imagined it being, and more.”

    No longer impeded by the initial clattering of silverware and rattling wood, her tonality can be heard carrying a threat. “As such, I expect it to remain mine. For I who have belonged to no one before, compromise will be given. I will be your woman king so long you are my knight. My only.” No, she shan’t utterly forsake her past, but be that and more. More his. More plain, mayhap – simpler, humbler. Freeing him, she returns to her seat, minding not one of the odd stares as she continues to feed herself. Eventually, a spoonful of sweet truce is offered to his lips. “So, then. If I learn the art of curry, will you make ice cream for me?”

♐ ] One of these days he’ll find the strength to reprimand. The consciousness, the backbone to assure her king stays in line. But for now antics like so will constantly put him on the back foot, reeling before he recovers to the world of the living. Clearing his throat, he eventually regains any composure lost in that moment before. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?” It’s debatable who’s the aggressor these days. Sometimes he’s the predator, other times he swears he’s fighting something akin to a dragon. “Save your praise for private moments. It should go without saying but you have no reason to question my loyalty.” Sly as he might be at times, every action he does is one carefully chosen.

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    ARTURIA, ADMITTEDLY, DESIRED THE SENSE OF NORMALCY that came with the territory. Be it the doing of childish inclinations or simply wanderlust, she wished to ascertain whether or not the grass was greener on the other side. Archer’s action should have been disappointing as a result – disappointing because he denied her that much. It should have been, but the way he stretched her name into prose brought her cheeks to rose. Unbeknownst to him, the remaining duration of their ride transpires with the stain still fair on her cheeks.

    No one has thought to treat her in such a way; describe her with words so kind and unfitting for one who pillaged and murdered. Like him, she too had her share of insecurities borne from the belief that she’d no rights to happiness. ‘Soothing’… would anyone have thought that of her in the past? It is a painful feeling, but a warm one nonetheless. She’s a name for him now, but she’s suddenly shy at the thought of invoking it without receiving one in turn. “Yes? Yes.” Distracted she is, rightfully so. “Will you teach me? How to cook, that is. Wonderful as you are, I cannot think to burden you with the task alone. I… wish to learn your favorite dish, and acquire the proper ingredients for it. As for which flavor to pick here…” Her sights flitter over to a couple enjoying a milkshake. Two heart-shaped straws extend from a single cup, and the two are leaned in forehead-to-forehead.

♐ ] A curious request coming from her. It’s enough to make him snort at, as lips slightly curve. “A king cooking for me feels like an honor I shouldn’t accept.” Words he would be firm on, but not without a means to change opinion. Deciding on a flavor for the moment, his gazing into the glass would still be accompanied with commentary. “..Unless, it wasn’t a king. If say it was just a woman like any other.. maybe that would be acceptable. I do love cooking, after all.” Taking it from him was less endearing than she thought, but he’d eventually contently purse his lips. “Fine then. Though, I hope you can learn how to make curry.”

Problems solved he eventually settles on vanilla, about to pick on certain sizes before taking note of other’s silence. A glance over reveals what took her attention, as he shakes his head. Really, maybe it would be best to dump any expectations he had of the other. Such lovey-dovey things were truly unpredictable. Making a point to a shareable shape, he’d receive a pay before nudging the other along to a table. “It’s impolite to stare, you know.” Offering a spoon, he’d use his own to take the honor of the first scoop before offering up too as well. “Especially when yours is right here.”

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     RETURNING FLATTERY WITH NAUGHT BUT SASS AND SATIRE? How dare. “Yare, yare. You wish for me to view myself differently but refuse to share the light with me? Those are grounds for punishment, Archer. Were we not on the road, I would–” Ah, yes. Navigation was her duty, was it not? Permitting him the company of his own imagination for a moment, she ascertains their placement in the city and directs him accordingly. “Turn right at this light. You will be following it down another four blocks.”

      Now, then. Where were they? Somewhere along the lines of him promoting her worth by using his own as a step stool? “I have already led a life believing those behind me were by my side. That was a mistake, and I shan’t repeat it. If I am to change, so to shall you. If you do not believe my words now, I will simply repeat them until you do.” Besides, it is not as if she fruitlessly clings to her former mantle. That life is behind her, she knows, but what is that saying… ‘old habits die hard’? “In a way, my given name is a sign that I have progressed. Arturia… it feels freeing to use it alongside Arthur. Though, as we are now, I am able to acquire a new moniker, am I not? Those in courtships bestow nicknames upon each other. Such as dear, darling, or what is it the young ones use nowadays? …Bae?” Eyes peek over his right shoulder, glimmering with an innocence nigh childlike. “Which one will you be giving me, Archer?”

♐ ] If she’s to reinforce this thought, then she should continue to do well as she had been doing. It had been a life time of torment to ingrain this thought of worthlessness into him, it would take more than just a bit of assurance to soothe his troubled feelings. Resigning to a grunt, he keeps silent till another topic he could speak on comes up. One that he was certainly not prepared for. Stopping at a light, a glance back would show it louder if just by his raised brow.

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      HUBRIS IS, ADMITTEDLY, CLOUDING HER JUDGMENT. However, far be it from her to feign modesty when she knows for a fact that her moniker is justified. Unlike errant renditions of her tale, the truth has always been faithful in its depiction of her warmongering. “Tsk, tsk. This is not a game of cards, Archer. Luck shan’t be on your side this time around.” Skill will decide the victor, and even as they wind down the floors, her mind busily conjures the probabilities that favor her.

     “I would not know about the creameries here. I imagine sea salt would be a dominant flavor. Then again, I anticipated nausea upon descent, but I experienced no such ailment. They say the mind suffers when it is subjected to an environment with limited oxygen.” Boarding as a passenger this time around, arms will eagerly coil ‘round his waist once he’s within range, cheek nested against his back as he pulls from the lot. “Earlier, you said that I could fool others into believing this city was my home. Have I truly made such a convincing case? Much of it is indebted to you, you know?”

♐ ] What was a general to a tactician? True, she had proven herself quietly to be strong, but he was no ordinary fighter himself. If she gives him an opening, she will find herself on the losing end of that exchange. But a subject for later, as he scoffs for now. “Luck was never something I relied on. But, a king’s pride is a fragile thing isn’t it?” A silent blow already, one that would earn him the right to smirk after.

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NOR IS SHE. NURSE ONE ANOTHER as they may with spoken love letters and cradled palms, never is she one to shy away from scrapes and bruises. No, rather, she welcomes the challenge. Being a Counter Guardian, surely he could stand his ground against the King of War? “Certainly. I would be willing to wager a bet on it as well. Something along the lines of a weakness, mayhap?” With a spurn of the heels, she sizes him up, seeming to care little for their physical differences with how arrogantly she smirks.

“Something that makes you particularly vulnerable.” Valentine’s looms dangerously close, after all, and who is she if not one to elicit secrets from her paramour through combat? “The first time you asked me, I knew nothing of my own interests. I believe that’s changed. This hotel seems lavish enough to accommodate our needs. For now, however, let us indulge in creameries and purchase weaponry.” As she skirts past toward the door, she’ll keep her promise and throw him the keys. “Depending on how you tire after, we may retreat to the hotel spas or enjoy more of what the city has to offer.”

♐ ] It tickles him that she would go to these lengths instead of doing the obvious. He doesn’t hide secrets from her intentionally, if she asks him barring it being something ridiculous he’d answer. Though with her mischievousness rearing it’s head, it’s doubtful he’s too fond of this idea. Not to mention, she forgets a detail. “Do you willingly deny the possibility you might lose? Or are you so assured in yourself? History should serve as an excellent reminder to you with that in mind.” He holds many surprises, and she is yet to see all of them.

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     NOW, NOW. Could it still be considered careless if she simply had an astounding amount of trust in him? Archer shan’t blow things out of proportion, but even this side of him she’ll find endearing… ‘specially so when he remains true to himself in spite of her antics. Privacy permitting, she’ll spoil herself with a swing of their hands ‘till they enter the premises, where the interior appears about as promising as the exterior. “Were we permitted our own, individual cars, I would have felt inclined to challenge you on the road. Very well, then. I will relent and allow you to drive for the remaining duration of this day.”

     Just for today. Driving was rather exhilarating after all, and momentarily abated her concerns about being underwater – which, coincidentally, return once they’re situated in the silence of the elevator, persisting ‘till they’re granted entry to their eighth-floor hotel room. “H’oh? There’s an aquarium inside. Are we to feed the fish ourselves?” It is nowhere near as expansive or as colorful as the one they witnessed in public, but the humble array still tickles her fancy. “Aah... this brings back memories. I’ve still the rose you gave me back then.” Those bittersweet memories seem miniature now – nostalgic, even. “I hear there is a magnificent garden here. Initially, I’d only intended to purchase arms and proceed immediately to the hunting grounds, but I may revise my plans. It is difficult to remain duty-oriented when I see so many opting to enjoy themselves. What say you, Archer? How does ice cream and swordplay sound?”

♐ ] Woman must think this to be a game with how careless she’s gotten. That or her comfort with him has reached a threshold where foolish behavior is interchangeable with her own. “For the rest of the day, the stay here, and here on.” Let him clarify, since she forgets. “I have no issue with enjoying our stay here. Just be mindful there’s plenty we don’t know beyond each corner.” Who knows how things will evolve, thus an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.