The Legendary Holy Sword Excalibur!

“This thrice accursed electronic window has deemed itself incapable of truly channeling my grandeur. Indeed, what medium can? Why, it reminds me of a time from my later youth when the great poet Shakespeare attempted to capture the true magnificence of my person in a single play. Of course once he set about such an endeavor he found that a single work of art cannot truly capture the essence that is the Legendary Holy Sword Excalibur. He set about to do so with two, then with a dozen, then thought that excessive and scaled back to ten, but how wrong he was, and he had to estimate that even a hundred full length productions could not do me justice! And then he died, of completely shameful causes at even attempting such a thing.”

“Where was I? Oh yes, this place. Since I cannot speak to every single one of you, I will suffice to speak to all of you. On this momentous day, this singular day of the year, I am inclined, nay, obligated to remind each and every one of you, that you...”

As the… interesting fellow ‘explained’, Seiga leaned back against the air she was floating on, arms and legs crossed as she listened and watched with a somewhat bewildered expression. By the time she had the chance to get a word in, she wore a wry smile as she spoke.

“I… see. I didn’t realise I had been graced with the presence of someone of such… grand stature. It is a fine hat, if it’s not too late for me to say. Now, are you saying you wield or forged this ‘Excalibur’, or do you mean you yourself are this ‘inspiration’ of victory and glory?” With the number of odd beings she’s come across that were manifestations of concepts, both possibilities were far from outlandish. This odd fellow was pretty outlandish so far, though.

Possibly the only worse thing you could do to Excalibur than ask him questions was give him validation for his ego-stroking. Yet one might imagine that the diminutive sprite would straighten up even more in his stance. Of course there was some indignation to be had from her not understanding him the first time.

          The second the word “Fool” left the (lips??) of the obnoxious and annoying Weapon, Black☆Star wanted to smash his face into the pavement because he KNEW what would inevitably follow: a skewed lesson in the history of the Holy Sword.

          Powers. Fashion and trends. Hopes and struggles. 

          He was definitely affected by the presence of the sword…but illuminated was not the term he would use to describe the feelings he developed in his presence. Disgusting thing…

          “I’m trying to train here,” he muttered through gritted teeth as his ears rang from the long-winded lesson in…dressing properly? He thought maybe that was the point of all that…but he wasn’t quite sure. He was never sure of anything when this guy was around. “Why are you even here, it’s not like you work out or anything. Leave me alone and go tell your stories to someone who gives a shit.”

The attentiveness of the audience was less important than the presence of an audience in the first place, at least as far as the legendary sword was concerned. Griping and complaining about his presence was something that generally went in one ear and out the other, or whatever served as ears for the strange figure. The final comment by the boy brought a swift point from the sword.

That voice grated on his nerves, but he wasn’t as responsive as Black Star. Kid was determined not to let this obnoxious weapon get to him. Even if he was entirely selfish and self centered. Hopefully there can be something gleamed from this encounter, something… Anything…

“I fail to see how a piece of lace can be heroic or important.”

The rest of what was said was ignored entirely. It went in one ear and out the other. Kid had more important things to do than argue with Excalibur over mundane details. Kid is pretty sure he wouldn’t wish an encounter with Excalibur on even his worse enemies.

“Do you not have an afternoon tea session to attend?”

This boy truly knew nothing about the inspirational qualities of proper attire, it seemed. How incredibly disappointing. They boy’s father would not have scoffed at such a concept. Well at any rate if it bothered the sword then he didn’t seem to show it whatsoever.

The legendary holy sword in the form of a white midget with a top hat almost as tall as him was treated to an otherwise awkward moment of silence as he walked right over and behind the undead guardian. Thankfully for her, the path he took pushed the ofuda on her forehead and fastened it more tightly in place, so now she was able to turn and quickly face the small powerhouse when he finally acknowledged her after a few eternal seconds.

Her hands, still outstretched in opposite angles, glowed a pale blue, and in the next second, a pattern of danmaku materialized behind the holy sword to form a dense tri-layer wall of bullets rotating around one another.

“I repeat myself:” the Jiangshi replied. “State your hallowed business in this hallowed graveyard. I am well aware of the decay that currently besets my brain, but I recognize a mighty presence when it walks all over me - not only a mighty presence, but an arrogant presence as well. Even so, I’ll do what I must to keep the grave of Prince Shōtoku from being intruded or defiled by those who deserve no access.” In this regard, the Jiangshi could consider herself lucky to be standing right next to said grave… but only if the holy sword continued on his previous trajectory.

“Hm?” Well the jiangshi did seem effective in blocking one of the swords paths by building the dense wall of danmaku behind him. However, any impediment to his progress would be in semblance only. Yet this person had now made the mistake of keeping Excalibur in the same place as them. Well perhaps she would see the error of her ways soon enough.

The shorter and louder squeaker going on is getting a head tilt as she tries to follow with what he’s saying. Not that anything too complicated is being spoken, but the rather large influx of information is overwhelming and difficult for her to keep up with.

Did he like being called nice? The moth thinks so. And, describing them right. And they’re talking about their clothes.

She really can’t think on how to reply besides saying…

“Your clothes look nice…”

Was the moth a broken record? That sort of compliment repeated would only be seen as lacking anything proper to say, and certainly someone would catch on. Anyone, that is, except a sword who pretty much only cared about being recognized for his own greatness.

“Wa-” Interrupted once, okay. He can handle that. Totally can fucking handle that. All this hubbub talk of coffee made the half demon cringed at the thought of working at Deathbucks but if this little freak wanted it, maybe he can come by at his work joint.

“Wai-” Twice, now. “Wait-” Thrice. Is that even a fucking word? Who the fuck cares, he’s using it especially since it doesn’t fucking matter what he says at this poi-

appreciatemuchlessemulateeverysmalldetailmustbeattendedtowiththegreate-

FUCK. This guy is NOW interrupting his inner thoughts? No. Fuck this shit. Twitching his eyebrow at his highest bitter, he narrowed his crimson eyes at the little creep before picking his lil weird ass up from the ground. 

“Could you shut the fuck up so I can get you some fucking coffee?!”

“Hm?” The aggravated youth seemed to have only just now gotten Excalibur’s attention. Where was this again? Oh, coffee. He hadn’t noticed. Yet that was indeed what this place seemed to be serving. That was a pleasant turn of things for sure, at least for the sword. For the hapless barista it would be anything but. The sword’s cane rapped hard against the back of the boy’s wrist in order to release himself.

“What was…” Seiga stops in her tracks, mid-air and floated to face the other way, upon hearing what sounded like a strange voice from a bit behind her. She was just making her way through this area as she has done so countless times before, but she never expected to find company. And certainly not of one so strange-looking, she discovers after eventually  upon the source of the singing.

“…Hmm? And where did you come from?” The bemused hermit looks over the other, her arms crossed and head tilted. Some dimension hopping youkai of sorts?

People would generally be best off not asking Excalibur open-ended questions. In fact, any sort of questioning whatsoever would be strongly discouraged. However, in such an instance as one did make that grave error, the sword would be quick to snap his attention around with a dramatic point.

That feeling brought a grimace to his face. It only grew when he heard that voice. Kid whipped around, cape and all to lay eyes on the sword. While he was aware his father told him to ‘watch over him’ did that include visits? He didn’t agree if it did. In fact, he’d happily tell the legendary sword to go jump off a cliff if he could. That would mean getting a word in and that’s almost impossible to do.

“I wasn’t staring into the mirror pointlessly and I highly doubt anyone would want to stand there and listen to you go on and on about yourself. In fact, aren’t your five hour recitation parties empty?”

“Hmph, you truly know nothing.”

Kid’s assessment of Excalibur’s draw when lecturing might be painfully accurate, but those kinds of observances would be entirely lost on such a creature, or at least he seemed to show no acknowledgment of it beyond flat dismissal.

                     Oh, god…that voice…

          It reached his ears at the exact same moment he’d gone up into a handstand to start a set of pushups, which was unfortunate because the sound made his arms buckled and he bonked his head on the floor hard and landed flat on his back, staring up right into that horrible, beaked face. Sitting up, he rubbed his sore cranium and gave the Holy Sword a look of undisguised and utter disgust.

          “Ugh, not you again!” he grumbled. There goes that training session, no way would he get any work done with this idiot around! “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in your cave annoying some poor faeries instead of me?”

“Fool! Didn’t I just say that specifically?”

In general Excalibur being trapped in a rock was only a rule as long as it wasn’t more convenient to not have that as a rule. In other words, he had the habit of showing up when least expected and especially when least wanted. Ah, but he’s still talking, twirling his cane all the while.

Careless as the legendary holy sword might have been strolling through the Gensokyo cemetery, it would be easy enough for him to detect any sort of presence approaching him, spirit or non-spirit. Case in point, enter a Jiangshi of indigo haired fame and spirit-munching infamy. …As soon as the sword approached the grave of one Prince Shōtoku Taishi.

The Jiangshi floated sideways and placed herself in his path, ready to at least scare him off, but that aura… Both a curiosity and a warning sign for her.

“You of small stature…!” uttered the undead guardian, her expression as rigid as her limbs currently are. “State your… hallowed business in this hallowed graveyard!”

Various impediments were nothing in the face of the holy sword. No mountain was too high, no ocean too vast, no zombie too stiff. Indeed, the graveyard’s de facto keeper might attempt to block his path, but the girl likely didn’t expect her to walk up the front of her and back down the other side to keep on his current path. One might wonder if he even acknowledged Yoshika’s presence at all, except that he whipped back around to face.

Silence. She might not have spoken in return, but her unspoken communication spoke volumes. Wide eyes, antenna down, on the tip of her feet. The air was hardly stagnant. But how is someone suppose to respond to something as… stark as this? Absurd even.

The only way a humanoid moth person could, perhaps, sharing in that oddity.

“Your clothes look nice,” spoken plainly.

At first Excalibur seemed stunned into silence. Perhaps he hadn’t expected the fuzzy figure to speak, or perhaps the compliment had been the unexpected part. Regardless, the end result was several seconds of a blank stare before he finally brought his cane up and tapped it on the ground.

His cane was up in his nose. HIS CANE WAS UP TO HIS FUCKING NOSE. All he wanted to do was walk to his stupid ass job at Deathbucks and get this bullshit day over with. But no. This fucking little freak had to come out of fucking nowhere and shove a big ass cane up in his small ass nose. NO. NO. TRIPLE FUCK NO-

“HEY ASSHOLE!!” He screamed if one hasn’t tell just yet, shoving the damn cane away from his face as he was definitely pointing his index finger down at this little creep.

“Didn’t your mother teach you any fucking manners or some shit!? Maybe you should learn that and some fucking real words for once!”

When it came to annoying others, Excalibur was a spirit without peer. When it came to ignoring anger or aggravation in others, the sword was similarly overqualified. As such this kind of simple rebuff would hardly faze the sword.

One could rarely account for how Excalibur just appeared wherever he did on any given day. Why, the wayfaring sword might just appear in a pocket dimension of a pocket dimension, as was the current case of his traipsing through the halls of Senkai unimpeded. Whether he was snooping, exploring, or just strolling remained to be seen as he took his trip down the endless halls in stride, singing softly to himself.

One might think that the recently appointed god of death might be given greater acknowledgment by the peers of his predecessors. Perhaps one might assume that they would forego their theatrics in order to interact with him more normally. Whoever came up with such silly notions would be wrong, of course. Excalibur’s appearance in Death’s chamber didn’t seem to bear any acknowledgment of Kid’s identity beyond addressing him as the sword might speak to any other unfortunate person.