[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/271031448755109888/452429537993818112/AchBanner.png[/img]
[h2]’Lancer Prime’[/h2]
[h2]DDD Hotsprings, Benita’s Room, Foreigner’s Lowlands[/h2][/center]

“. . .No need to beat me while I’m down, you know?”

It had been the first thing to come out of his mouth since the previous night, and perhaps an understandable request. Truthfully, the way his head seemed to hang ever since the incident and the aura of depression that seemed to accompany him made even the glow of his armor dim ever so slightly.

He had muttered something or other about ‘Agamemnon laughing wherever he is’, as well as shivered when the bar had been brought up for reasons that — for once — were entirely unrelated to the memories of his youth and more toward how his teacher would react if he so much as. . .loosely implied that he had lost his spear.

His spear. The wedding gift he’d given his father, Peleus, and that had been passed on to Achilles by the man in question. His spear, which he had been taught to care for and always cherish. His spear, that had accompanied him wherever he went, for the better part of his life.

It would not be pretty.

But! That didn’t have to be a problem, right?! That could totally be avoided if he just got it back right?! Teacher did not have to know anything! At all!

He coughed into his free hand, the other holding the ‘gift’ he had received from Benita — a sort of ‘patchwork fix’, if you will, to get him out of sticky situations if he ran into an enemy while searching for his actual weapon. He inspected it for the umpteenth time, and let his eyes go over the messages written in it.

‘Go get them!’

‘You can do it, Achilles!’

‘Do your best!’

. . .It’d break. The length was a bit awkward compared to his usual, as was the weight. In a battle between Servants, it might, might work for a bit but. . .

Still, why did she have to look so damn earnest when she presented it to him? Rejecting it would have been impossible. So instead he had simply praised it as a fantastically cool gift worthy of a hero and said he’d wield it with pride.

He always did have a weakness to things like this. But he had promised, and he could not — would never — back down from a promise.

. . .Besides, he would admit that the name she had come up with was just the tiniest bit cool. Still not as cool as the name of his actual spear, but cool.

“Well, I’ll get going. I can find it and then we can discuss where to go from here.”

Maybe when he got his treasure back he would try dual wielding them? Thinking about the possibilities, he stepped out and ran toward the place he had last seen his spear falling toward.
[hr]

[center][h2]Forest behind the Church, Shinto. . .?[/h2]
[h3]Detective Achilles Is On The Case[/h3][/center]

He found. . .trees.

A whole lot of trees.

An amazing number of trees.

Looking around the forest, he scratched the back of his head as he wondered where, exactly, his spear could have fallen. To begin with, he had thrown it with all his strength, so it had to have made a dent on the earth or other, even if whatever the Archer had done to deflect it had lessened the impact force somewhat. Still, he supposed there was only so much ground he could cover, only so many places it could have fallen into, so — 

Well, there was always the option of searching the entire place as quickly as possible. It [i]had[/i] to be somewhere around here, after all!

So thinking — or perhaps hoping desperately that it was the case, he broke into a run, the rough terrain inconsequential and promptly ignored as he dashed from place to place so that he might catch a glimpse of it.

Nobody said divine speed could not have mundane applications. Hmm, where was another place he had not looked into yet. . .maybe that direction? Again, he broke into a sprint. Again, he stopped so suddenly a normal human body would have been turned to mush from the forces involved. This time, however, the sudden stop had come from the presence of an all-too-odd trench right before him.

“Who’d even take the time to carve this?” He wondered aloud. Something nagged at the back of his head, but he could not tell what it was — instead, he continued on his search and stumbled across a nearby crater.

And the one near that one. And the other one. And the [i]other[/i] other one.

. . .Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

Come to think of it, this place was familiar.

But that couldn’t be right, could it? Although. . .Patroclus had sometimes commented that his sense of direction did the oddest things at times.

But it couldn’t be that bad, could it?!

He turned to the side, and ran to the edge of the treeline, to be met with— 

—the complex he had left a little while ago. The very same one that was supposed to be on the other side of the city, past the river.

His head turned almost mechanically to the right — and to the church in the horizon.

A shaking hand was brought up to cover a burning face. He shivered, once then twice.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME TODAY?!”

Ah, there he went. Again.

Maybe he should take it slowly next time, hm?