middaeg | July Quests and Catch-All [OPEN]

Entry tags:

July Quests and Catch-All [OPEN]

Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and you!
When: Throughout July
Where: Through the city
What: Quests and other things!
Warnings: Some threads are NSFW!

[ 1. Sew and Tell ]

[ While Berserker can't help with the magical parts of upgrading the shop, he is strong. He's doing any grunt labor asked of him, lifting things, moving heavy objects, and holding people up to reach things. You need something carried? He's your ~~dragon~~ man.

He finishes a task to take a small break to stretch. He looks over to a coworker (or customer, he doesn't care to know the difference) and tilts his head slightly. ]

Is there something you need me for?

[ 2. Out of the City ]

[ There's a lull in the activity of the day and Berserker takes a moment to rest. He slumps down against a tree, his spear Gae Bolg resting against his shoulder. He's only doing this because he knows he's good at it -- fighting and killing is boring and routine. A sound catches his attention and he grabs his spear without getting up. ]

Do I need to stand up or did you just trip?

[ He's a jerk, sorry. ]

[ 3. Wildcard ]

[ Got an idea? Did we plot something already? Drop me a starter or PM me here or on discord at glitzkrieg#0673! ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Likewise, Lex can't do any magic. She can lift, though; while the strength isn't exactly superhuman, she's definitely getting stronger as her chimera features come in. The metal fused to her bones help in this case, though she's still having definite growing pains. Those pains are why Lex is taking a quick break, stretching out her arms, the talons growing in place of nails flexing.

When Berserker asks his question, he probably doesn't mean to help her stretch. Despite that, Lex tilts her head and considers it. It has gotten more difficult to stretch her legs while standing, thanks to the talons... ]

Don't suppose you know any cooperative stretching? [ The question almost sounds rhetorical, but she's listening, if there's an answer. ]

[ Berserker just gives an indifferent stare. Cooperative anything is not something he's good at -- he's extremely solitary in everything. Even back in Chaldea when he fought alongside other Servants, he preferred to act as a one man war. ]

No, I don't. [ It's like talking to a wall. ] If you need help stretching, try a wall.

[ Or someone else. He's not interested in ~~human~~ monster contact today. ]

[ She snorts. It doesn't bother her too much; Lex instead shifts her weight to one leg and stretches the other behind her back, gripping her ankle with one clawed hand. There's a scraping noise as the talons slide against her well-worn combat armor, but she's able to do it - maybe not as well as she would without it, though. ]

You're the one who asked.

[ But she sounds amused more than anything else. ]

From what I heard, they've got to figure out some of the magic shit before we go lifting things for them again.

I meant about work, not about your personal needs.

[ He figured that much was obvious, but it's suddenly clear it wasn't. There's only a brief glance at her before he looks away again. Idle time is something he loathes just because it gives people a chance to interact with him. Isolation is his preferred way of life. ]

So we just sit here until we're told what to do. [ Berserker breathes out a sigh.. ] Of course.

Edited 2019-07-09 22:42 (UTC)

Stretching makes me more effective at work.

[ She's not here to argue about it, but Lex also likes making sure her point is clear. A few seconds longer and she drops her leg, switching to the other. ]

Hopefully they figure out the magic side of things soon. Staying busy is preferable.

Then learn to do it on your own.

[ A real charmer, this one.

He finally takes an actual look at Lex. ]

What are you? [ YOU CAN'T JUST ASK PEOPLE THAT, BERSERKER. ] I haven't seen anything like you before.

[ This is what happens when you isolate yourself, you jerk. ]

Someone learning how to use talons.

[ It's said a bit flatly, but once she's done stretching that leg and lets it drop, she shrugs. ]

Chimera, as far as I can figure. Lots of variety.

You're not good at it yet.

[ He generally expects those kind of reactions to his bluntness. Berserker isn't the kind of person to sugarcoat or soften anything or even be remotely considerate. ]

Hm...Interesting to meet creatures I'm used to killing. [ Or turning into one. ] Has it been painful for you, too?

Not anything past ripping into things with them, no.

[ She's getting there, at least. There's an amused snort at 'creatures I'm used to killing', a faint nod of agreement. ]

Very. [ There's a little grimace as she rolls her shoulders. ] My bones are infused with metal. It's making this... interesting.

[ Okay, now he's interested. That's not something he's heard of before. Bodies augmented with magecraft, sure, but not metal. He tilts his head slightly. ]

Why do you have metal in your bones? Was that your idea?

Yeah, it was my idea. [ And it had been a good one, out in the wasteland, when she hadn't been changing into a monster. ]

It's to keep them from breaking in combat or in traps. Considering the number of ruins I crawl through back home, it keeps me from fucking them up if the floor gives way, too.

[ He can understand strengthening one's body for survival. Practical. It makes enough sense to him not to question it. ]

Did you expect to die before it became a problem for you?

[ That's ... certainly a question. ]

Yes.

[ At least he's not the only one who can be blunt. ]

I wasn't exactly planning on changing into a monster or growing anymore, and the life expectancy where I'm from is pretty low. A metal skeleton wouldn't stop a shot to the heart or a slit throat or radiation poisoning.

[ Alter or not, Cú Chulainn lived a very short life. Consequences were never considered, each battle could've been his last. That sort of existence suited him just fine. He could appreciate the shortsightedness of her choice -- she wasn't supposed to live long enough for it to be a problem. ]

As I thought. [ He shrugs. ] I died young and never considered my actions beyond if they'd benefit me immediately.

[ Right, something's been forgotten in all this. ]

What's your name? You can call me Berserker.

The cold annoys him endlessly. Dragons are not meant to be cold like this, at least not the sort of dragon he is. He wouldn't have even left the apartment if he hadn't needed to pick something up from the shop. It wasn't even a long trek, but the snow was falling heavy in a frigid, gusty wind. After the stupidity from a few days ago, Berserker is still sore and, as a result, crankier than ever. Being forced to venture out in the cold didn't help that attitude.

He comes up the steps to the apartment and opens the door, shaking the snow from his cloak before he comes in. He didn't think to wipe his slushy boots, though, and tracks the mess along with him. Mercifully, he leaves them nearish the door, so it's not an egregious problem. Wetness drips from his hair and clothes as he stops to strip off most of his outer layers. Instead of hanging them up or anything else, he just lets them drop onto the rug beneath him.

"Anybody home?"

At least he thought to announce himself this time.

[ OOC: continued from here ]

[ The threat isn't a surprise. Dragons are fiercely protective of those they're close to and the things they own. It's an instinct deeply ingrained in the fiber of their being. Berserker silently accepts it with a cold look. He would have said the same thing if their positions were reversed.

He wants to shake the coat off and refuse the help, but he's really too numb to fight it. It's warm, dry, and smells like Diarmuid, all of which are welcome and comforting. He manages to get to his feet finally, even as every nerve in him lights up in pain.

Speaking of pain, the pain on Diarmuid's face concerns him. The ache is shared through their bond, troubling him further. Ah, this is all his fault. Well, no, Caster shares a good bit of the blame, too, but mostly it's his fault. He has to say something. He keeps his voice low, as these words are only meant for his Bonded. ]

I will give you the choice to sever our bond. I won't hold it against you if you choose to do it. I will no longer be your burden to bear. You would be better off if you simply gave up on me.

[ He'd told Diarmuid not to let him push him away, but things have changed. This is too severe of a situation to hold to that. An Alter Servant is a problem for everything and everyone around them. The reality of his existence is crystal clear. ]

I'm giving you this choice out of courtesy. Don't think of it as running away...I was never your responsibility to bear. I was never supposed to exist. [ He never wanted to exist. ] Don't feel obligated to help an impossibility. You owe me nothing, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne...

[ He closes his eyes, expression pained momentarily. ]

Do as you will.

[He knew it was coming and it still makes his chest tighten. Against all instincts, he stays quiet and listens, letting his unhappiness at the offer show only in a tightening of his jaw. Obligation. Courtesy. Burden. The words wash over him as coldly as the breeze but he says nothing the whole while.

Diarmuid swallows.]

... there's some truth in that. [He tightens the front of the coat around him and fastens a couple of buttons to hold it in place.] And yet here we both stand. Together, no less.

[Next, the scarf. Gently, he wraps it around Berserker's neck, making sure to cover his wounded ear without pressing on it too much. As he draws back, he touches a hand to his cheek to wipe some of the blood away. Since he gave up his coat, he has little left to offer in the way of body heat, but he's still warmer than the dragon and the prickle of magic has its own heat.

To hell with vows. The decision he comes to is made not as a knight but as a friend.

The smile he gives him is faint but its fragility belies the strength behind it. He sounds firm.]

An impossibility and a fool.

[ He didn't think Diarmuid would take him up on it, but he offered it regardless. To think he has this sort of determination in him. It's misguided in his mind; he's not worth this effort -- he's not worth anything at all. The same conflicted feelings trouble him as they did when he and Waver met. It was a mess, he was a mess...He's still a mess.

He passively accepts the additional warmth, expression unreadable. The least he can do is pull the Lancer closer. It's purely practical, he tells himself, for warmth and nothing else. In truth, it's a comfort to have him close. He wants to ease the burden placed on Diarmuid in anyway, even if he doesn't understand that's why he does this. ]

And you're a fool for staying here. [ There's no bite in his words, no edge whatsoever. ] Let me get Gae Bolg and... [ He should ask, not assume. ] ...Can I stay with you for the night?

[ It's closer to Diarmuid's apartment than Ozymandias' home. Practical, he tells himself. No, that's a lie. He wants the comfort only his Bonded can provide. Even he can't justify it another way. He wants to lie with him and rest his aching body. It's an indulgence he shouldn't take, one he should be ashamed for even considering...No. That's not right, either. It's okay to take comfort from Diarmuid. ]

[ There's a brief, confused blink. ]

You look good for a dead man.

[ But then again, this place was magic. Why wouldn't someone dead be here? Hadn't she been on death's door when she arrived, too? ]

I'm Lex.

[ Explaining the concept of Heroic Spirits isn't something he really wants to me, much less that he never actually existed. Alter Servants were an impossibility. ]

I'm the memory of someone who once lived long ago given human form. I'm not "dead" nor am I really alive. [ Well, he is now with his mortal body and all. ] I was a familiar summoned for a mage to use.

[ He's one of the few Heroic Spirits who's okay with that and accepts himself for what he is. It's complicated, sorry. ]

You were just human before coming here, right?

[ That makes her pause, looking him up and down. ]

Magic, [ she sighs, shaking her head. ] It isn't much of a thing back home, and I'm kind of glad about that.

[ Because seriously, the fuck. ]

Other than the skeleton and the cyborg parts and any radiation-based mutations, yes.

I know. [A soft, strange laugh.] That's usually how it goes.

[The proximity is a relief he couldn't have expected. His head's still spinning in the aftermath and, now that he doesn't have to worry about Berserker breaking their bond, he's just... tired. It's only now that he even realises that he was afraid of that possibility; deep down, he was absolutely certain that he'd turn away and that would it be. Two down in one night. But he can breathe. Emotionally, his every resource has been drained dry but he can breathe. The smile fades and he leans into him, eyes closed for just a moment as he appreciates the steady pulse of energy between them.

There's no point worrying about right or wrong decisions tonight. When he pulls away, he makes an effort to perk up and hides his anxiety with a curt nod.]

... of course. You can take a bath and then I'll look at your injuries or you can just rest.

[The spear, he's assuming, is somewhere in the middle of all that rubble and he's quick to step in and help; the sooner they get out of the cold, the better. Hell, he'll even try to coax Berserker into a coach once they get back to the main street.]

[ Trying hide what can be felt is a bit pointless, but Berserker leaves it alone. There's a time and a place to dig at such a thing, neither of which were right now. Slowly things are changing, even if just a little bit. Don't tear at someone's worries and fears just because you can, have a reason. It's an improvement.

There's a certain relief once his favored weapon is in hand once again. He's already in better spirits, even agreeing to the coach. It's faster and out of the cold. The pain in his muscles is enough that he might not have made it back just walking, either. A practical solution to these problems. Berserker spends the ride in silence, leaned against Diarmuid.

Once out of the coach, he makes a stubborn show of walking up to the apartment. It's not as though he's truly walking unassisted -- Gae Bolg is a decent support. The second he's inside, he makes a determined line for the nearest bathroom. No words, only action -- he's on a mission. Careful with the borrowed coat and scarf, they go first and are left somewhere safe. The rest of his clothes form a wet trail behind him in his wake. Everything else be damned, a hot bath is what he needs.

As he draws the bath, he realizes he doesn't have a spare set of clothing...Oh well, he'll worry about that later. The comfort of hot water is calling now. He sinks into the water, his head just barely above it. Anything to soothe his stinging skin and aching muscle. ]

[ He's glad she didn't ask anymore questions, mostly because he's not interested in answering them. It was a weird existence. ]

Isn't much? Does it exist at all?

[ At least he's not a mage! Mage families are fucked up in his world! ]

You're adaptable for a human. Most aren't that good at surviving. [ Finding out what's useful about a person so he can make use of them. He's terrible, okay? ] Do you pride yourself on your survivability?

I'm not sure. [ It's said slowly, like she isn't certain about that, either. Isn't sure or doesn't want to admit it? ] I saw... something, once. A book that drew a man to a building with a strange obelisk in the basement, that changed him.

[ She shakes her head. ]

But that's the extent of it. If there's more, it was well-hidden before the Great War and possibly dead after it.

[ If magic was powerful and abundant enough to stop the bombs, she thinks someone would have tried. ]

I don't know if I'd pride myself on it. If I don't survive, I'm dead. I do what I can to keep that from happening.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 6

July Quests and Catch-All [OPEN]

1.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

closed to Waver

closed to Diarmuid, event continuation

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject