#draconiantepes

Slumped, curled up in a ball, brooding in a corner alone...these were all things Atalanta never done. True the Archer kept her distance but when called out to she would always answer, sooner or later depending on WHERE she was. ...Put since the Huntress had returned a silence had fallen over her. One that over the days had broken the feline Archer little by little, going from awkward evasive behavior to full on withdrawal.

Lancer’s appearance within the holds of the Library came as no surprise. The two were what she could refer to as a Friend - or, she hoped at least.     Her current form would put to the test any form of friendship.

Misshapen, vile and beast-like as she currently was...most now withdraw from her in fear. Even Frankstein had recoiled in fear of her...fearing the Archers claws - evading her eyes.

“Lancer...” Came Archer’s withdrawn reply.    Her favorite stories strewed around her         in vein hopes of distracting herself...effort that had come to naught.

“I am surprised thou can even withstand my visage currently.                   ...Am I not just a picture of fright?”

Where once sharp tipped gauntlets resided were claws black as pitch - ready to all too easily rend a man asunder. Emerald eyes had dulled to lime vile hues, locks of golden shrub now ashen with corruption creeping to the Huntress’s fringe. Atalanta’s body covered in patches of thick black fur etched with obscure purple corrupt marking in various patterns. With every tiny movement Archer felt her pulse race...the beast within her shaken awake finally.

He watched the other servants movements on the battle field. He could tell that the Lancer was certainly a capable fighter, the field of stakes and corpses told that tale. Yet it still felt...odd to him how he fought. 

               « 神秘 » Bothersome.

              The only suitable description of the scene unfolding before him.

              Gilgamesh had witnessed it all too many times before, scuffles between those of different races no longer new or of particular interest. A loud verbal argument between a succubus and a werewolf, while potentially entertaining, was not something he wished to see unfold inside his club. Even without looking he knew that the werewolf already had her claws out and ready to draw blood. However, his focus wasn’t on them, but another individual.

              Amongst the unfortunately rather familiar scene, stood the tall male he had recently hired as part of his staff. Even given the backgrounds of the guests allowed into this area, the white of their hair and their rather unique complexion making the man known as Vlad easily distinguishable. Regardless of the personal information they had provided him, under the dim lighting of the bar, they did resemble a figure often associated with his kind, vampires. It was strange for a human to accept their current position, as bartender in this restricted section of his club, especially when the contract had stated ‘peculiar, nightmare-inducing happenings may occur’, so his interest in them was expected.

                    « 謎のヒーローX » “Chill, Vlad my friend, it’s nothing that serious.”

                    X’s all smiles in spite of the other’s strict words. He’s actually quite happy to see that they were such a great person by being against thievery. Not that his act of borrowing was anything like that.

                    “I just took that other Lancer’s spear by accident. Of course I’ll return it without a scratch."

✕     Brynhildr looked down and away from his face, the safe end of her Romantia on the ground by her foot, the blade up over her head. She could see his history, his legend --- it was markedly different from others. There, clear as starlight at night, was the anguish of black tragedies and torment, and through it all a delicate and hopeful ribbon of LOVE cut through, though it was a love that was foreign to the valkyrie. Without her nature, she could sense an aura of evil, but she could be wrong... She had been wrong, dreadfully wrong, in the past, after all

Her pale lips were a shallow frown. Lancer spoke quietly, almost in a disappointed tone though she knew she had no warrant to judge him. She would listen to him speak for himself, rather than trust her own instincts. “Are you worthy of the title hero, Vladislav?”

   Chaldea proved relaxing in its emptiness for Berserker. With many others out on missions today, few  roamed in their wait for teams to return and debrief.  The solace freed him to walk the halls without worry and assist if needed. Life was good; Today was his day off--- and he knew by the task asked of him, that his other aspect remained in the facility too.

   The prince stood at the Lancer’s new door. someone fixed it finally.  He felt no need to announce himself, or knock for that matter.  Fingers over the keypad, the buttons chirped loudly before the door quickly opened.

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