The worlds were vastâinfinite possibilities, millions upon millions of people, chance meetings and fated encounters... horrors beyond comprehension. That was the life, the risk, of those who traveled the stars. A life that Rider and his group would catch a glimpse of today. Today, as the sky they were under splintered and seemed to tear open, as meteors and an airship came toward the ground at alarming speed. The smoke that taints the air trails behind as the vessel sails, attempting to land in a way that would not destroy it's occupants, and yet it would seem as though there was one man that seemed not to care; a rogue that leaps out the window of the failing ship and allows the air around him to make him feel like he's flying.
There are a brave few who, too, leap from the falling ship and engage with the Ranger in air. The bullet he fires at them was unnecessary in power, blasting them back into the ship and taking pieces of it's structure apart. He laughs loudly and with spirit. He hadn't planned a landing, or really thought much of one. Didn't much matter, though, he'd survive anything and everything he had to. Though, he figured he had a better shot at a gentle landing if he weren't free falling like this. He deploys what looks like a parachute of sorts, something small to slow his descent before ending up some distance away from the crashed ship, closer to where Rider was. The master seems more curious of the vessel, if confused, but seems down for adventure; they had the protection for it, after all, and sprints toward the blazing wreck. There are several Servants that follow, a healer, lancer and the red archer stays back but ready to engage.
"Best not t'let 'em go too far, Darlin'."
The voice comes from his side, and a familiar face shows itself despite new candy blue additions to his features. He is wounded, but nothing a visit to his mechanic can't fix, and nothing to keep him out of the fight. "You, I get. But I don't got much faith in some a them others. Might not be strong enough t'face anyone that survives somethin' like that."
No sooner than the words leave his lips does a commotion stir, and the archer looses an arrow. It's deflected; returned fire is immediate. There were indeed some people on that ship that knew a thing or two about combat. And survival.
"See, now? Got 'em all riled up again."
"Seems I got th'misfortune of introduced ya, Sunflower." His metal hand grabs for Riders, ignoring how the fabric covering it slowly stains blue, and brings it to his lips for a kiss. The weaker servants have retreated for now, along with the master, fleeing from the encroaching combat while the strong take their place on both sides. Those who survived the wreckage of the airship in one piece split into two groups. Those who would fight, and those who would flee, phones and items in their hands to call for assistance. If they held out long enough, and this newfound place was nice enough... they'd get it.
Boothill, in the meantime, reloads his gun after filling up on attention from his very pretty companion.
And it's with a sarcastic scoff that he speaks again, voice more machine than man in his anger. "Meet th'Interastral Peace Corporation... th'blasted IPC... N'I'm gonna tear 'em apart."
CONSIDERING THE THINGS THAT many of the Servants and survivors of Chaldea had seen, not many things could take them aback anymore. The absurdities of the world were a normalcy at this point. Even the vastness of the stars and what lied beyond it, might as well just be another day. Beings who were far more dangerous than even the gods resided out beyond this crystal blue star â beings who had caught a glimpse of the world and assisted out of amusement, or, in some cases, sought to make it their own. What they were bearing witness today, however, was beyond anything that any could have expected. From beyond the sky came a vast, alien vessel. Smoke trailed behind it; explosions and fire lapped at its cold steel as it fell down towards the earth. Ozymandias had seen many things, but this? This was beyond even him. He stood there, watching with just as much rapt attention as his comrades, and with a thousand questions going through his thoughts.
At first, concern touched his heart. There was already an alien being attempting to rewrite the world itself. They didnât need more issues from beyond to deal with when they were just barely dealing with what was going on here. Whatever unease had lingered, was soon replaced by intrigue, as well as a touch of surprise. That figure who had emerged from the ship lookedâŠoddly familiar. He narrowed his eyes, squinting, almost, as if that would make it that much easier for him to take notice of this mysterious individual. Was thatâŠBoothill? Surely that was not the case, was it? As soon as that thought came to mind, when others began to emerge from the falling vessel too, the moment he saw the gunfight that soon took place, it was easy enough to know the truth of it.
Honestly, he probably shouldnât have been surprised by any of this, considering. The Master, forever the kind of individual to worry for others, was quick to rush forward. All they could think of was that someone might need help. Letting out a long sigh, Ozymandias debated letting them know that everything was fine. That their âvisitorâ was a certain Ranger fighting with one of his, possibly, many enemies. But where was the fun in that? Heâd let them discover everything on their own. He stayed behind as the others were quick to follow, his gaze shifting over to the Red Archer who was peering ahead â ready as he always was for conflict to unfold.
âBest not tâlet âem go too far, Darlinâ.â
âYou love to make an entrance it seems, Dear Ranger. You even brought trouble with you.â A bullet had nearly hit the Master, though was expertly deflected by the Archerâs quick action. Alas, he did wish that their shared summoner was a bit more cautious. It would have been best to see if there were any survivors from a distance, and then from there, make note of them and whether they were dangerous. As the weaker Servants fled with the Master, he pondered whether he should assist himself, or if he should just watch and let the others handle this. Ozymandias opened his mouth to say something more, but paused the moment his hand was taken into Boothillâs, a kiss placed upon the top of it. The scent of gunpowder and oil was strong, so strong that he wondered if in the ensuring chaos, Boothill had been damaged. The Ranger didnât seem to care one way or another (how reckless). âHeh, attempting to charm me even as bullets are flying all over the place⊠How very like you.â He laughed, shaking his head and bringing his hand back to his side the moment it was released.
So that was them, then? He had figured as much. Their armor showed that they were from an organization, and considering how much he was aware of the otherâs ire towards that group, it was easy enough to put two and two together. There was a madness within those eye â a rage that burned like an eternal wildfire. Oh how he liked that intensity. The wildness of it â that fury. He grinned, pleased with everything he saw before him. âThen do so. Let that fire run wild until everything is cinders.â
