* UN / HAPPY ⁽ᵃᵖ⁾

isola affiliated bedivere (saber) from fate/grand order

[gywir-a-blog]

Summer skin bedivere looks like he wears airpods and tells you that you’re poor while sitting 2 feet away from the edge of the water

[gywir-a-blog]

MUTESWORD.

▲ Had Link scared the other man? He was shaking a little, and looked positively threatened. He would apologise… later. He nodded- wait, a saber? Like, a sword? Link frowned. He definitely wasn’t a sword. Two arms, two legs, some hair - swords didn’t have any of those. And they couldn’t speak! Most of them couldn’t, anyway. Maybe it was a title? A weird one, anyway.

Would this person understand him, or would Link have to write out his words again? This was such a pain. He signed his own name, and repeated, ‘I am Link.’ He sucked on his lower lip for a moment, thinking.

‘Are you really a sword?’ He asked, hoping the other understood. ‘You don’t look like a sword at all.’

         “   no, i’m not really a sword; in fact, my own has even been taken away from me.   ”     --- fingers cradled the hilt of his wooden blade to flash it to attention before gingerly digging its tip into the soft dirt, occupying himself for a moment by just watching it crumble the previously smooth surface. his prosthetic groaned when he reached up to rub at the back of his neck and mutter a sheepish,     “   saber is my class, i suppose? that is how i and my fellow servants address ourselves and each other.   ”

   the knight’s tensed shoulders eased slightly with his laughter- really, life had its way of surprising what he would have once proudly claimed to be an unfazable mind.

          “   I really should learn some more even if this island already translates to keep this from being so awkward for you, i do apologize...  L-I-N-K,  link? that’s an interesting name, one that i’ve never heard of. what brings you to such a secluded place like this?   ”

[gywir-a-blog]

     who has one thumb and likes to party? this guy!!! like for a short event starter! capped at 2 with castmates exempt

[gywir-a-blog]

* SALTURIA.

APPLYING A CAUTIOUS HAND HAD NEVER BEEN A CONCERN OF HERS, as she could be no less worse for wear regarding the emotions of others. It sets a different tone when she’s within the presence of former Knights, however, as they are abnormalities that cannot be quieted by will or logic. They are intimate with her cause– her history, failures, and purpose. A walking war she may be, but even she cannot summon the gentle-handed Bedivere to stand before her animosity. “You hold no fault in this matter.” She cultivates his thoughts, as a King should her most loyal Knight.

    “I am simply a reflection of my misdeeds. Your arrival at Chaldea with the Knights of Round was evidence of that. You all have roamed those halls beside me with regret-laden eyes. You found yourselves summoned there with purpose, and pledged your allegiance with well-kept secrets.” The remaining embers of her life had been extinguished on that hill, but for those that survived to witness the demise of Camelot, life must have become harrowing. “Legacies are narratives of the past, but the past is now gone. Tell me, what became of your future following my reign?”

          “   i cannot help but feel that we had a hand in it; there is no need for you to feel that  ANY  of your actions are ones to be regretted or are less than those praised, had we done more.   ”     --- into his old age, he’d whispered speeches in his mind to relay to the ruler once he’d crossed to the other side  ( words repeated to himself and scribbled onto scraps hidden in breast pockets and sleeves )  but no expanse of time could have prepared him for the reality. he can feel his heart pound in his ears though human they are not, those same visceral anxieties make themselves prevalent in his unease and betray the attempted steadiness of his voice. 

   he debates lying: illustrating a falsification her that her kingdom flourished even after her and mordred’s death, and with it, his same growth. the temptation to paint that grand narrative is trumped by his duties as a knight of the round, and to deceive benefits none but his own ego. if not the  IDYLLIC KING  he remembers, the same vows are sworn under her name.     “    the past still follows people like us. i, after your passing, i returned excalibur as promised and subsequently remained in a hermitage until i passed. what follows, you know well, arriving in chaldea and the island. though clearly, i have more interest in your endeavors thus far.   ”

[mutesword-deactivated20190214]

▲ After a long day of searching for the Princess (despite knowing Link certainly wouldn’t find her) or anyone else he knew (which weren’t many people at all), Link needed a break. Time to himself.

He found himself walking a flower trail, unknowingly following the path of heroes before him along the Savior’s Respite. Something urged him on; perhaps the will of heroes who came before him, recognising that they weren’t so dissimilar.

But, of course, Link wasn’t alone up there, and one person in particular caught his eye - another light-haired man with his hair pulled into a ponytail. There was something about him that Link could resonate with.

Excuse me, he signed, hoping the other would understand. Who are you?

▲ @gywir

[gywir-a-blog]

   more often than not, bedivere’s endeavors were stumbled upon by accident, meetings forged simply from asking for directions or clarification to cure confusion that inevitably bubbled from the sheer  IMPOSSIBILITY  of their gatherings. much of the same unlikely ups have had their downs and finding clearings much like the forests of camelot recharged his energy, though as expected, the island had its ways of surprising what he would consider a seasoned knight.

          “   i, uh, huh?   ”     --- his mind is slow, words stumbling as he just barely understands. or, at least, what he  HOPES  to understand. a weary finger points to himself, and it’s clear how uncertain he is by the wry sile on his lips and shaking pupils.     “   me? i am a saber- i’m sorry, i don’t quite know if that’s what you want.. ah, who are you?   ”

[gywir-a-blog]

     sorry for my inactivity: short starter call, capped at 3 with castmates exempt? replies to come soon!

[gywir-a-blog]

               // @hydenseeked

          “   assassin?   ”     --- his sword plunges into cement, the feeling is foreign having grown accustomed to dry clay and clashes with other blades, though it’s dulled none since when he’s sheathed it so many centuries ago. curiosity gets the better of him as his weariness in the midst of their current situation coupled with how little he knows of the other is pushed aside. for a moment, he forgets about the bustle of the crowd and the adrenaline coursing through him  ( he shouldn’t feel anything now that he’s no longer truly human, but the mechanics of being a heroic spirit have yet to be truly figured out and they’re present regardless )  as he approaches the other, saber tight in his grip.

          “   you are an assassin, right? or am i just wrong? i’ve heard a lot of things about someone described just as you look, but there  ARE  countless spirits in chaldea for me to make such sweeping assumptions.   ”

[gywir-a-blog]

               // @drakonem

   one last snag of his cape against rubble pulls a frustrated groan, one that shakes his armor and makes his steps just a bit heavier than their already leaden dragging. he’s overwhelmed, to say the least, to have his abilities taken upon arrival only to be restored; it’s not a permanent thing, that much has been made painfully obvious, but he relishes in the brief redemption regardless. his words stumble just as he does, more out of breath than how he truly feels, and the hesitance is put on full display with the knight’s shaky smile as he wheezes a small laugh.

          “   i can’t seem to tell who needs  HELP  anymore, everything is too chaotic, and no one is as they seem in this city.   ”

[gywir-a-blog]

     with part 2 now out, bedi is excited to be regaining his abilities back, including excalibur which was literally laying dormant in his 10kg arm! please like if you’d be interested in threading, no cap for now!

[gywir-a-blog]

     “ wh what the hell- ”

[gywir-a-blog]

               // @pelagaios

          “   it is not good to make it a habit of taking your necessities, you know.   ”     --- he doesn’t mean to reprimand, passive words simply voiced as naturally as they did to his companions who so often required easing from trouble in their youth. currency isn’t something foreign to him, but there’s no comparison of value for him to really tell whether or not theft really is a necessity; his fingers file through bills given to him upon arrival, a starter to aid in adjustment for what he assumes is to keep afloat for the first week, now slightly smaller after paying what was due to the stall owner. bedivere has yet to dip into it even after nearly two weeks of residence, having no want for what the living need for survival. so he lays them flat on the table beside what the demigod has yet to scarf down with what he hopes comes off as a gentle smile.

          “   you can have it. whatever is left, if it means keeping you out of getting chased down the street.   ”

[gywir-a-blog]

               // @magicasted

   their reunion is  SHORTLIVED,  spontaneous and fast-paced in a way that the knight should have expected given his company. location unclear and his current occupation even murkier, metallic fingers tug slightly on the caster’s robes and he easily peers over merlin’s shoulder before craning left and right as if taking more of their surroundings in will aid him in reaching an epiphany to their whereabouts. hesitation causes him to lag behind, steps skipping to catch up as he yelps a quick     “  where is this, where are we going?  ”

[gywir-a-blog]

* HALFCHRIST.

❝ Did I overwork you so terribly I left you with no time to enjoy yourself? ❞ There would have been other ways to introduce himself, surely. Yet there was something to be said for Saber’s heart, and it was that in all of its equal virtue, it could be just as mischievous. He had been a boy once in the nature-beloved Forest Sauvage, a boy who had played and made merry like all other children. Yet in the throes of his spirit, there had been inalienable life, the sort that could inspire life and devotion from others. Perhaps, in the roots and even in the conception of his soul, there had been a beacon within himself, glowing brightly and able to find good humor in the face of even Hell’s most vicious Devils.

Pleasantly, he leaned over Bedivere, studying the kitten that had so enraptured one of his men. Perhaps not his man anymore, for Arthur could not know if death split vows. He hadn’t the time to learn it, really, though he appreciated the sight of the silver spectre. ❝ Perhaps I should have considered more vacation–worker’s compensation. By Our Lady, Sir Bedivere, if you wished for a cat of your own, I could have very well gotten you one! ❞

  he could feel the droplets roll down his cheeks and fall onto the back of his hands before becoming conscious of it, fingers tapping at the streaks in momentary confusion. shock contorted to glee and then something  INDECIPHERABLE  until he finally registered the familiar voice and face that he had missed for so long, floodgates unleashing to shake his frame in a full-forced wail against his knees. the urge to bombard him with a hug was resisted, opting instead to slowly stand to attention as his hands shakily wiped at his face in an attempt to cover up such an embarrassing outburst.

          “   of course not, my king, my work was more enjoyable than any break from it.   ”     --- even in the midst of strained sobs and coughs, he made an effort to respond to his questions despite being in jest. straightened, bedivere lurched just slightly over the ruler and he learned to make it a habit to curl in on himself enough to close that gap between them, a smile present on wavering lips as if to will his body to stop crying. a quip of his own was attempted to calm himself down, mindful of how he  SHOULD  present himself before the other and not in such a disheveled state.     “  i would not have been able to raise one well, given the company that we surround ourselves in; who knows how merlin and gawain would have acted? i am so sorry, i did not- i do not want you to be forced into this uncomfortable situation; i will be back to normal soon.   ”

[gywir-a-blog]

               // @salturia

          “   i’d heard of servants summoned in forms unlike their historic depictions, but it pains me to see that even you have also succumbed to the same fate.   ”     --- his hands bunch fabric loosely at his side, boundless excitement screeching to a halt upon witnessing just how rough and uncharacteristically this saber’s voice rises and  BARKS.  she should not be acting such a way, not with the face of his king; any ill will that she cultivates from her actions will only reflect badly on the legacy left behind, revered by so many that he himself has witnessed. his chest deflates, smile faltering, heart tight in his ribcage as he trails off from finishing ‘where did we go wrong?’

[tainbocuailnge]

bedivere ripped off his right sleeve to show off his metal arm

[gywir-a-blog]

you are not dad...... squints

         i mean,, i  WAS  a dad some odd centuries ago if that counts

[gywir-a-blog]

HALFJUDAS.

a chuckle, displacing whatever unease he harbors still beneath wicked guilt. ❝aye; ‘tis an easier venture than wandering around with perfect strangers.❞ suppose he ought to consider it providence that he managed to meet and be housed with a former brother-in-arms; suppose, also, that it might be a curse as well, the knowledge that one holds a firsthand witness to all his shames. he nods, fingers against his lips and curled in a thoughtful manner. ❝that leaves one other conundrum—if we’re to call it that: what will we call ourselves?❞

          “   i’ve seen some milling about in search for a group. apparently that... robot? she comes to give us the necessary tools once we’re set.   ”     --- lips purse, fingers carding through already messy hair as he pauses, as if waiting for someone to appear with the gun he’s seen others play around with.     “   ah yes! that’s the last piece we need, i believe, before we’re officially demmed a team. i see no other way to broadcast our search than make it our monicker? something to do with our king, perhaps.   ”