Member
Xaltwind
Double
The Otter
Rune_Alchemist
Fish of Oblivion
Savo
The World
Antlers
Scrawl Banditta
BaconRider and Archer
Oh, good. This Servant opposite him knew something of playing the game, at least. A little jumpy, though. Poor form. Any hint of weakness like that would have gotten him eaten alive in Rider’s youth. Nonetheless, he leaned back, mirroring the Servant he was sitting with before taking a sip of coffee. Delicious.
”Well, they haven’t commanded me not to be here.” Rider gave a lackadaisical wave, laughing the question off. ”A bit of a gray area, really. But our type’s good at navigating those, aren’t we? Anyone inflexible isn’t going to last long, short of being ludicrously strong.”
Rider started drumming his fingers along the table. One beat. Two. The drumming continued. His smarmy grin didn’t leave his face. One would think he was almost deliberately trying to be annoying.
”Considering you haven’t started swinging, shooting, or casting yet, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you aren’t quite inflexible. A good sign, really.” He chortled, continuing to enjoy his drink. ”Tell me, what do you think of this brave new world we find ourselves in? I, for one, think it a marvel. A vast improvement from the era I grew up in.”
“Come, now. It’s as you said, we’re just having a drink.” Archer’s own smug expression refused to budge, and he simply shrugged as his guest seemingly declined his offer of a cigarette, slipping the carton back into his pocket. “We may have been called here to fight for our Masters, but that doesn’t behoove us to conduct ourselves like barbarians on their account.”
Well, wasn’t this a curious fellow, Archer thought to himself, as his golden eyes appraised the man across from him. He was certainly crass, slithering up to him and daring him to retaliate; but while it was tempting to write him off as a fool, that clearly wasn’t the whole picture. He’d gone from giving shameless non-answer into probing him with questions of his own, attempting to place the burden of the conversation on him.
The incessant, rhythmless drumming on the table was just the capper. If the man intended violence, he’d long since relinquished the advantage there. No, he was trying to wear down his patience, see what he could find out.
“I have my misgivings, I will admit, but I’d be little but a fool if I let them guide my thoughts. I see complacency, but also possibilities beyond anything my contemporaries could have begun to envision.” Well, it wasn’t like he stood to lose anything by humouring his guest a little; if he thought he could get under Archer’s skin that easily, perhaps it wouldn’t be too difficult to bait him along in turn. “Every age is mired in the folly of man, but perhaps this one shall let us be rid of the vultures picking at the corpse of bygone glories.”
A relatively neutral non-answer. Well, it was only fair, considering Rider had just given one himself. Still, there were little bits and pieces here to peck out. Just like those vultures his counterpart just mentioned. Heh. Ah, how’d he’d missed this. Matching wits was far more enjoyable when the opposition was an equal as opposed to a dullard.
”One could say that those vultures are the ones with the greatest eye for the possibilities you’ve mentioned. I certainly won’t fault someone for taking opportunities where they arise. Regardless, now that we know where the other stands, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to offer your role?”
A brief chortle. His coffee cup was already running half-empty.
”I’ll even start. I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said Assassin?”
“I’d only consider you slightly less credible than if you claimed you were Caster,” Archer replied, rolling his cigarette from one side of his mouth to another as he quirked an eyebrow at the turn in the conversation. “For whatever that’s worth.”
The question of the man’s identity had, of course, been on his mind. Appearances were deceiving, but presence wasn’t, and his guest’s dubious aura didn’t exactly command fear and awe as a Saber or Lancer should. His own identity precluded the remaining option out of the Knights, so that left the four Cavalry classes to eliminate. In truth, he couldn’t rule Caster out just yet; he may have failed to recognize the meaning of his words, just who these vultures were, but who knew how magi from this neck of the woods conducted themselves? At any rate, it was certainly more of a possibility than either Berserker or Assassin, as he seemed to claim. That yet left one option, but…
“Besides, let’s not say anything we’re likely to regret.” As tempting as it was to call him on his bluff, he couldn’t see it being worth the particular risk. There was surely more that he could glean from the man before he moved on, but that particular item of information was a dangerous one to air out in these unproven grounds. “The war is yet young, and we don’t know what cards the others hold. I admire your candor, but let’s not sacrifice sense at the altar of hospitality. I may not be inflexible, as you say, but lord only knows what brutes may be lying in wait.”
”I respect your abundance of caution, but we both know secrecy about Class will go out the window the moment the knives come out.” Rider’s smarmy grin widened ever so slightly. ”After all, our titles already exist to protect our names.”
And speaking of, it wasn’t as if Rider’s mind wasn’t working in the exact same direction, either. The man in front of him certainly didn’t seem to be Saber, Lancer, or Berserker, just from general appearance, presence, and attitude alone. Rider was already Rider. So that largely left Archer, Caster, or Assassin. Part of the reason he’d even mentioned Assassin in the first place was to gauge the other Servant’s response. He’d brushed it off with barely any reaction, so that Class was likely out. Now, was the mention of Caster a smokescreen? It really came down to that or Archer at this point, though he supposed that a standard Caster would have little reason to leave their little workshop once it was set up. Archer was the most likely candidate, but only if he took what he saw currently at face value.
”But, I’ll acknowledge your wishes for now. A man was simply trying to make idle small talk, after all. Some of my greatest allies started as my enemies, really. I’m told I have a talent for such things.” Just a little breadcrumb. As amusing as it would be to reveal his true name, it was too much of a strategic risk, even with his Noble Phantasm in play. Though if Rider felt it invoked at any time tonight, then the other Servant was far sharper than he’d give him credit for.
“Of course, but much can happen in the course of one night.” Archer couldn’t help but stifle a laugh of his own. His guest seemed almost disappointed that he’d declined the exchange of identities; again, there seemed to be but a fine line separating recklessness from brilliance. As insignificant as it would be once the fighting began, at this stage in the war the simple knowledge of which class each Servant belonged to was an unspeakable advantage. A shrewd Master and Servant could wipe another team off the board before matters even truly began if they had reliable information on how an unprepared unit was likely to respond to an attack.
The other Servant clearly had something to gain by trying to share his identity, but whether that was based on a belief that Archer would be honour-bound to oblige him in turn or something yet more sinister remained to be seen.
“No doubt this won’t be the last time we meet. Perhaps then, we can talk more openly about matters.” Perhaps he was trying to goad him, but the sense of deliberation behind his guest’s words made Archer feel there was some credence to them. The man was an odd mix of foolishness and sharpness, ingratiating and yet infuriating; certainly the kind of person who thrived in uncertain times. If nothing else, he was sure he could confuse any other Servant enough to make it out of an encounter with his head still attached.
“But it’d be a waste of an occasion to leave things there, I agree.” And if that was the case, Archer had some questions of his own. “And if you’re game for a little small talk, I must admit I’m curious. You’ve spoken of your admiration for this modern world, all the challenges overcome along the way. But that’s only a fraction of the picture, isn’t it?”
He paused, exhaling a plume of smoke as he took his cigarette from his mouth; and, letting it hang by the side of his chair for the moment, he looked up from the table to catch the attention of the waitress. Catching her eye and gesturing for her to bring the most recent order over for the two of them, he turned his attention back to his guest.
“What do you make of this alleged Grail War?” He asked the other Servant, a smile quite unlike the one from before plastered across his face.
”What, this curious little replacement for something supposed to be long gone?” Rider inclined his head briefly. He’d had quite a bit of time to think about the matter once he’d been summoned and the knowledge the Grail granted him settled in his head. His eyes glinted with all the malicious glee of someone who enjoyed speaking uncomfortable truths. ”Isn’t it obvious? We’re all being used. Perhaps the original system may have been a legitimate matter caused by magi too foolish to simply be rational and cooperate, but to so desperately recreate this entire contest after the last time it failed? No, someone is pulling strings behind the scenes.”
After all, it wasn’t as if Rider actually wanted to play along with this phenomenal waste of his newfound existence. The more Servants and even Masters he could convince of the utter foolishness going on, the sooner he could cut his strings and live his second life as he wished to.
Another silence hung in the air between the two men for a moment, as Rider finished speaking, and as Archer digested his words. The waitress came over with the two coffees Archer had ordered, slamming them down on the table in a hurry before scuttling away as fast as she could to leave the two dubious-seeming men to their business
“Well put.” Archer finally nodded after a few moments, his own eyes glinting as his mind raced behind them. Yes indeed, this encounter would have proved informative even if the other Servant had flounced at his refusal to play along with his apparent willingness to disclose his identity; but if he was understanding his guest correctly, this is where it could provide personally fruitful.
“Now, I won’t insult your intelligence by claiming I have no interest in the Grail. We could play this game through to the first light of morning, and nothing either of us could say would change the fact that none of us would be here if there wasn’t something we were willing to run roughshod over each-other to grasp,” he said, the luridness of his words concealing the deliberation beneath.
“But all the same, it’s as you say. This war is but an amateur production of a third rate farce. I spoke of the folly of man, and it certainly runs deep; but it may as well be a shallow pond compared to the depths of those picking at the corpses of the Gods.” He had to be careful what he relented to the other Servant. Showing too much of his hand could be disastrous, if he were so inclined as to engage either of their Masters in this same fashion. “I have no qualms with my Master, nor, as far as I can gather, any quarrel with yours. The bindings of duty are difficult to escape, especially when one can see no alternative. But if one could rely on magi to be rational, I scarcely think we’d be here to begin with. I wouldn’t doubt at least one of our number is likely to prove troublesome.”
What a curious choice of wording. Was this Servant implying he’d cut his bonds and run if given half the chance? Both a blessing and a curse, really. Rider didn’t need this man’s utter loyalty like he would have in life, given that this was a temporary alliance at best. But that cut both ways. Fleeting faith made for an uncertain ally.
Still, at least he had some idea of where they stood now. That was, so long as this man wasn’t playing him for a fool. Rider practically guzzled his refill of coffee down before rising to his feet, placing a thousand yen note on the table.
”I suppose that’s all I need to know for the moment, then. I thank you for the interesting conversation, friend. Best hope we’re not forced to cross blades during the conflict proper, no?”
“I shouldn’t think you have much to fear, there.” Archer replied, lazily raising a hand to bid the other Servant farewell. “Without betraying my Master’s confidence, or my own words, we’re in no hurry to spill blood for a counterfeit cup. We’ll have the chance to talk again, I’m sure.”
Well, maybe it had been too much to hope he’d be able to broach that topic at length on the first night, but it wasn’t exactly a disappointing outcome for that. Regardless of how likely the amity was to endure, or how it would inevitably end, he’d identified someone who’d make a ready ally; whether or not the man had absorbed the meaning of his words, he supposed it was only a matter of time until he saw for himself just what bloody-minded horrors were likely awaiting them.
“If I may, however, allow me to advise you of one thing before you depart.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and, crushing it in his gloved hand, likewise downed his own coffee. Now the other Servant was leaving, he didn’t have much in the way of a reason to hang around, either. It had been a fruitful enough diversion, but the time had come to ensure Kilian’s advance. Which, of course, led into: “I wasn’t being facetious when I spoke before. I can’t say I’m aware of any others of our kind yet, but I have… previous knowledge, shall we say, of at least one party involved in this war, who I can only imagine would be more than willing to paint these streets with blood to see some demented dream realized.”
Perhaps he was saying too much. There was also the very real possibility that this man was the Servant of that very party. All the same, however, Archer felt disclosing this information would serve him in the long run.
“Be wary of a woman with white hair and red eyes. Humanity only runs skin deep, and whatever was mean enough to heed her call surely won’t be as reasonable as you or I.” If this Servant was a prospective ally, it wouldn’t do to have him fall into the clutches of the Einzberns; and if he was the one who heeded their call, perhaps the message would unsettle them enough to draw them out into the open.
How satisfying it would be, to personally crush the hopes of those miserable, bloodthirsty dolls for good.