middaeg | Intro Overflow: May

[Archer is using his analytical skills to sort all the information he can find. He noticed the curious similarity almost immediately, but one coincidence could be an accident. When coincidencies follow, though, things get way too complicated.]

I don't know the answers, merely suspect what it may be. Without the definite answer from someone who knows the runes or the language it's a hypothesis. [Caster gets a head tilt and hint of expression that could be a smile and not a smirk. It doesn't last, though.] I suppose the language is similar to those you know?

[After all, Cú Chulainn travelled far and wide, studied under a Scottish witch, has learned at least a few languages along the way.]

[ Caster looks into a swirl of the drink at the bottom of his pint glass. But it's not what he is captivated by. The voices around them- conversations, yells, songs. They all understand each other, they all were granted the ability to speak the same tongue as the natives. That on itself isn't surprising for him, that kind of magic they are used to - Grail always takes care that summoned spirits are updated with enough of the knowledge to fit the times they appear in. It's melody, it's accent-

The guy here knows his name anyway so he can admit it easily. ]

It is. [ That's it, that's the confirmation as he chugs down the rest of the drink and turns around to head and look for more. Or maybe for food ] I like the melody it got to it, even your voice carries it well.

[ Either a compliment or a jab. Or both at once. But they are on the festival and it's gotten so serious again- ]

Forget your worries until morning, pass between the fires- and if you can take a candle with flame taken from here. You might be surprised what awaits you if you do.

Edited 2019-05-19 08:41 (UTC)

[All the revelry around means nothing to Archer. He never did learn to enjoy the moment, and as duty and regrets continued to pile up it was impossible. What he can do is to be a silent company wearing a smirk too bitter for the festivities.

He does end drinking a beer or two, not enough to sleep under the table but enough to feel the buzz. Hn, perhaps he does enjoy the company, for he's loathe to leave Caster to his amusements. That, or the amount of beer his companion consumes. Archer amuses himself by trying to guess how much more untill Caster drinks himself under the table.

...he doesn't.]

[ Just tipsy or entirely shitfaced? That's a mystery. Leaning on the latter given that- Caster stopped counting his drink by now. His grin is wider, a challenging glint in his eyes as he gets into a shouting match with another drinker that ends with laughter. At least he got to try all the drinks the festival has to offer, yes?

Archer dragging himself along his pace stopped being a noticeable weirdness and became just- fact of life. In fact, can maybe even be of help when it's needed. Prove how good ally you are, Archer, for there comes a slurred question of utmost importance ]

Hey, bowman... I'm running out of things to toast to. Any ideas?

[ Who knows what time it is? ]

[Well, looks like it's time to drag both himself and his companion to the Coven.]

To the morning. [he suggests dryly.] The festivities are dwindling down, it's time to hit the hay.

[Hopefully Caster isn't drunk enough to want more beer, because Archer isn't sure if he can carry the druid back. He's starting to miss being a Servant and the ability to turn into spirit form.]

[ You're a strong and buff man even without the magical stat-system, surely you can drag someone near your own weight... right? ]

Mmhmm, I was curious to see how the festivities will end- [ Truth to be told, there is a slight reddening over the horizon. The morning is really close, isn't it? The fires are still going, but the songs are not as loud, dances not so fast, and many people have returned to their homes already ]

Maybe they have a special closure-- you know, ceremony. [ He sways but finds his balance, showing a lopsided grin. It would be easier to perform if he wasn't getting close to the "totally sloshed" side of the scale ]

[He's not sure if he can do it while not perfectly sober, that's all.]

Boaltinn lasts for two nights, this was the first one. [Archer rests his hand on Caster's shoulder.] Let's go.

[ You never raised a toast to anything-- Caster's complaint is airy, without a real bite. There's a hum at the end of his words but he allows himself being dragged into the direction of the Coven.

There occasional groups of people hanging around- maybe still drinking and talking a bit, not yet entering their homes, but also not entirely in the festive mood. Someone shouts something at them, Caster responds equally loud and cheery- he doesn't really remember much of the way back. ]

I knew it.... [ He mumbles to him staring at the corridor, the line of doors... ] Geez, which door were--

[ The correct one. Which of the room is his? Error, error. ]

[Archer sighs and checks his watch, the one he got from the witches here. Of course he took a photo of the room assigned to him - with so many doors in the corridor he had a doubt that he's going to recognize the right one.

He tugs Caster along the corridor looking for the right inscription. Here it is! And his roommate is not inside, but the bed is made and the room has been aired. This suits Archer just fine.]

Here. [he pulls Caster inside and closes the door. His twin swords are on the table just as he left them.] Looks like my roommate has slept already, so we can share the bed.

[ Archer is probably in the middle of saying his words when Caster just moves forward and starts throwing off the cape, and then heavy belts. Yes. Bed. He was fine partying until morning, but now suddenly in one room with this incredible object he hears it Beckon to him.

Damn it, so easy to get used to the whole "Servants don't need sleep". Surprise, crashing on the bed never sounded better when you're nerfed. ]

Sure... thanks. [ He's not going to refuse hospitality either ]

[Seriously. Archer keeps one eye on him just to make sure Caster ends in bed and not the floor as he too starts undressing. Like always it's swift and efficient albeit mechanical.]

No problem. [his coat and top are neatly folded and left on the chair, shoes and pants follow. Here the abundance of scars covering his skin doesn't matter, becoming a part of those like them, born to fight.]

Scoot over.

Ah, so I take a spot next to the wall so you could run away easier? After all this effort to get me into your bed— [ Caster jokes to best a pest one last time this night but does as he is told and rolls over and then under the sheets.

He's going to fall asleep the moment his head touches the pillow, seriously. ]

Intro Overflow: May

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject