BLEED GOLD

Just who the hell was I?

[traitorbred]

chivalour:

       ❝ You are absolutely right! ❞ He beams, then, again and again, and the reason the both of them have come across remains entirely forgotten from the Saber’s mind. ❝ I am much too used to small houses and traveling by horses, but people of this era are so efficient. Buildings sometimes much bigger than castles I have been to, and transport that took days, weeks back in my time, now take only a few hours. It is all far too captivating. ❞ Richard stuffs his chest with pride, almost as if speaking of something he - or his family - has done. But it is all driven by genuine interest for change, for the way life worked its way through time, and the way people grow. There may be many things he doesn’t truly understand, but the idea of learning about them, in itself, already draws him in.

       He nods, then, excitedly and with a smile even bigger than before. ❝ Yes! Aren’t they wonderful things? I was much too fond of theatre when I was alive, and the first time I watched a movie caught me by surprise. It is hardly the same, but it is so fascinating still! It draws you to it in a much more effective way, almost as though you are even part of the play itself! And to think there’s so many movies on the great King of Knights as well… I would have loved to watch an actual play on him and his Knights of the Round, but I cannot fight against the way so many of these movies make me feel part of his era! It’s like a dream come true… ❞ Ah, but that’s entirely too off topic! There are many interesting movies Richard has come to watch - it is just a beautiful coincidence that King Arthur and his tales are much more popular in modern days than they were back in his time.

       ❝ A bit too curious now, aren’t we? You could be very well lying about coming from this ‘Chaldea’, and trying to get info on me. A smart move, I admit, but not too smart when you pry about it so openly. ❞ A joke, mostly, but it still holds a grain of truth. Yet the Lionheart only smiles back, and none of his guards go up. While some would have asked the king to be careful ( his recklessness has costed him many things in the past, after all, his life included ), Richard remains as nonchalant about the curious inquire as he has been before it. ❝ While being an exception sounds quite interesting, I come from the Snowfield War. I believe that’s in America. It’s a weird feeling to be taken mid action to a place where I can relax and enjoy myself, but I suppose even us Servants deserve a bit of a break? ❞

So energetic. His smile practically beamed, and each word akin to the chirp of a frantic, excited bird. This guy was so unlike the usual crop Mordred knew, it was hard to fathom, and harder to deal with. How did you handle something that would rather vibrate then sit still? The best she could do was pinch him precariously between fingers and watch him wiggle. A nice visual, but it did little to help her deal with the real thing, still talking at a motor’s pace.

“You sound like the kinda guy that’d enjoy speed cars.” It fit well enough. The way he smiled and sped his tongue across his words, fast and faster still. “Or a roller coaster. Not that I’ve had the chance myself, but it fits, ya know? Bikes are more my thing, though. Can’t say I had much interest in theatre, either. Puppet shows and jesters were more a thing during my time.” Not that she’d care much for either, outside of passing interest. Judy and Punch, in its more chaotic form, or the jokes the court jester would weave to pull a smile across Arthur’s stone-like face.

As the thought crosses Mordred’s mind, the words pass his lips. Coincidence? Maybe, but the timing is almost too perfect. “Ha, really? You’re a fan of Father’s? It’s hard not to be, I mean, but still... What kinda movies are there, anyway? I haven’t looked into them! Ugh, it’s such a misstep, but I gotta know! Any there any about me? There has to be! They’re probably all terrible, since nothing can outdo the real thing.” How many painted her as a villain? Did they get the details right? The battle on the hill? She thought of all the actresses playing her mother, and all the little things they’d never get right. But the idea alone - of Morgan being distorted and forgotten for an old hag - sweetened something in Mordred, making her smile.

It’s enough for her to brush off the tone of seriousness, hidden under his words. If you’re really from Chaldea? Pfft. As if she had to lie about that! “Right, right. Whatever. Think what you like, knight boy.” She waved a hand, unperturbed. “Before Chaldea, I was summoned to the Great Grail War in Romania. And after that, I served Londinium’s knight! Ha, imagine that! Mordred, knight of treachery, defending the Kingdom she once worked to destroy. But that’s irony for you, I guess.”

[traitorbred]

byebyelullaby:

Watching the blonde basically swallow burger after burger made Chris start to think that she’d made a huge mistake. It was breathtaking watching her eat with no trouble. Was she even human?

If this was a grave she dug for herself, then dammit she would fight to stay out of it or lie in it happily. 

“Oi, old man! Four!” The burgers came out quicker than she expected. It seemed the chef anticipated her order. So much for prepping her heart.

It wasn’t as easy as the other girl made it seem, and it was way messier, but she devoured the burgers as quickly as she could. She chased down the taste of overcooked beef with a full cup of water. 

She slammed the cup down. She could feel herself nearing her limit, but she wasn’t going to back down now. “S-See? Easy!”

Was Mordred human? Anything but! She sat, smug and half-filled, as the girl raced to match her every move. Four burgers slide across the counter and she took them, steady as one could, before washing them down with water; sweat beading heavy on her brow.

“Heh, not bad. Messy as hell, but you’ve got the grit to try!” Coming from her, it was something of a compliment. But good will was smashed under Mordred’s open palm as she slapped it down, yelling out another order. “Alright, let’s take this up a notch! Oi, chef! Gimme the heart attack!”

The chef muttered a soft warning, but complied. A tower of a burger slid out from the kitchen before Mordred, topped with cheese, bacon, tomato and seven different sauces; a heart attack if ever she saw one. She didn’t wait for it to cool - going straight for the heart. Four bites and a finger lick later, the monster was defeated and devoured. 

“Ha, that was more of a hiccup then a heart attack!” Burp. “Whaddya say, small stuff? Think you can survive that? Or are you gonna back down? Not that I’d blame you if you did, of course.”

[ilushia]

[traitorbred]

Morning light washed over the room, rousing her from steady slumber. Dreams lingered on Mordred’s lashes like dust, but she wiped them clean, stood and stretched. The apartment was quiet - a sign Shishigou had left for work, no doubt leaving her to her own devices. She’d spend her free time lax; lazing like a house cat grown fat on luxury. But something nagged at the back of Mordred’s mind.

That morning, she felt odd. 

A stiffness had worked itself down her spine, coiling like roots around her bones. No matter how Mordred bent herself -- to her toes, arms up, side to side -- it persisted, unabated.

“Ahh, jeez... What a time to get a sore neck.” 

But the thought alone was off. She shouldn’t be so stiff; her neck shouldn’t pain her in such a way, nor should her limbs, or-- And then Mordred caught it midair, a slow, sick thought. Her heart was silent that morning. It didn’t beat a steady rhythm through her body; didn’t sing with the rising morning, or skip like a stone over water. Mordred’s heart was as still as the room itself, and equally dead.

Her fingers trailed her chest, where it should have been. Her eyes followed, and found something worse. The joints of her hand had transformed during sleep; transfigured into joints like a doll. A thing, ghostly wire ran from each finger into nothingness, disappearing somewhere above. Mordred’s gaze dropped and she found her toes, too, had been cursed. 

She stared long and hard, the whole situation some bad joke long turned stale. But the moment stretched, and Mordred’s body remained -- a doll for another’s pleasure. No, with the strings, she was more like--

“Yes, yes, just like a puppet. I find that look suitable, given everything. Don’t you think so, Mordred?” A whisper called from deep inside her chest. A sing-song voice, all sweetness and decay; the kind that smothered, the kind that commanded. The same voice that had whispered in her ear, urging her forward, to push the knife through her father’s heart.

It was a voice Mordred knew all too well.

“Mother.”

[traitorbred]

ceremonialpurge:

Wʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ sʜᴇ sᴀʏ– ?  

   His weary, fatigued look snapped away like the flick of a switch. Dull eyes snapped with a forgotten fury. ( Rᴇᴅ, ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ, ʀɪɢʜᴛᴇᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴀʙʟᴀᴢᴇ)  Her use of profanity spurred the warrior to react, whisk away her desires. He hoisted the plate up high out of her reach.

  The Lancer’s face upturned.Chin raised, brows furrowed, nostrils flared, he bore down on her with a passionate scorn. Both at her as well as himself. How could he had let this slip by?  He failed his faith! No more, no more! Even without his armor, the expression he wore betrayed the wounds over the phone– or perhaps, exposed another bare. He grunted, voice growing steadily louder.

    “Great, but it is wasted! A crumble of ash on your tongue with the ‘shit’ that passes over it. Your heinous mouth deserves nothing but the skewer the meat was roasted on. Have you no respect to the Lord? Never in His kingdom will shit be holy! You are to thank Him for this meal and repent before you get another bite! It is no wonder you were starved!” 

The offended voice was loud enough to be heard through the Saber’s door.  Her master’s concern bleed wordlessly through it. Did she need help?  What was this madman on?

Wh--

“Oi, oi! What’s the big idea?!” Mordred turned, quick on her heel, and found herself face-to-face with a man, a far cry from the one before. Still laden in sweatpants, but his eyes bore a different gaze. Face, turned sharp like a spear; disgust bare for all to see, and there, beneath it all, disappointment. Ah, she hated that look the most. 

“Heinous mouth? The hell, Lancer? I was just saying how good it is, that’s all!” A boot ground into the concrete floor of the balcony, twisting downward. “Chri--” She bit back an automatic curse, moving to grind her teeth, rather then her foot. “Aah, jeez! Look, it’s nothing against your faith, alright? Or against that Lord of yours either! This is how I talk, you dolt!”

Subconsciously, Mordred waved off the press of her Master’s concern. She could handle this. No preachy, sweatpants wearing Lancer was going to make her feel bad for expressing herself! Bending back to head to meet his gaze, Mordred glared back, her pride equally aflame. “Look, just gimme back that kebab! It was good--” On her toes, she reached up and up. Curse him for being so damned tall!

[traitorbred]

byebyelullaby:

Any sort of answer would have constituted as an acceptance in Chris’ eyes, but the fact that the woman threw in (an admittedly easy) insult? Oh, it was on.

“Shut it, you’re not much taller!” She growled a bit before raising her hand. “Oi, Mister! Another!”

With her order placed, she turned towards her opponent.

“Real cocky, aren’tcha? I could out-eat you in my sleep, blondie. You’ve got 3 more burgers in you, tops!” She slammed her fist on the counter, her expression just as cocky as her opponent’s. “I’ll make you regret this!”

It would’ve been so cool, if not for the condiment remains splattered all over Chris’ face from the last few burgers.

In actuality, there was only a centimetre difference between the two of them. Not that Mordred cared for that, though. Nor did she care for the logistics of things - that, as a Servant, she didn’t need to eat, and the whole challenge was therefore void because she couldn’t lose. No, never mind all of that. A challenge had been issued, and she would respond in turn. It was only fair.

“Heh! What I lack in size, I make up for in pure spirit!” And to prove it, she raised three fingers - the same her rival claimed she had left in her - to the chef, smile sharp; mustard smudged around the edges. The chef grumbled off something vague in reply but complied, sliding down three double sized burgers in quick succession.

“Come on! Let’s see you match this, pipsqueak. You were gonna make me regret it, right? Ahaha!” Like a duck, Mordred swallowed the three burgers without much effort. Then she sat back, seemingly satisfied with herself; feet propped on the table’s edge. “Go on, top that one!”

[traitorbred]

[clainman]

ｽﾔｧ

[traitorbred]

kamikurai:

          ❝ Yeah. I’ve never participated in any holidays before. Hn. Right. I’ll be sure to egg them good. ❞ despite her expressionless face does the eris seem somehow pleased that her words were affirmed. before long does she have a look of remembrance on her face, bringing out a box or so of dango to give the other. ❝ Oh. Here, since you told me about them. ❞

Well, at least she wasn’t the only one lacking in festive experience. And her egg talk seemed to have been taken in with good measure, though the lady looked hardly excited about the whole thing. Nodding, Mordred accepted the dango as easily as Ferris accepted her words. “Mmph, thanks.”

[traitorbred]

chivalour:

       ❝ You think so too?! ❞ Richard’s excitement is almost instantaneous - it’s always a pleasure to meet another with similar views, especially Servants. It’s easier to get along with those, and despite their nature of always being cautious around others of their kind when in due time they might clash blades and take each other’s lives ( again and again and again ), the way like-minds get along and become at ease around one another makes matters much friendlier to deal with.

       Richard the Lionheart is one of those people - who would rather deal with things around him in a good-spirited way than have every nerve in his body on edge of a surprise attack. ❝ Isn’t it wonderful to see how humans have evolved throughout the years? So many things they have produced! It’s much too hard to be uninterested, I think. I’m quite a fan of their books, too. All of the things they have written about history of years past is very informative. ❞ Especially when the curiosity of how his home-country fared upon his younger brother’s reign is far too big, always dragging scarlet eyes through shelves upon shelves of books to find something on King John Lackland.

       But that is far too personal. Humans have far more story than just in a tiny island. ❝ Haha, sorry sorry. But you’re right, I suppose. In times like these, us Servants need to find something to keep our minds entertained. ❞ Even though just eating seems a bit too precarious. 

       At the Servant’s question, however, the Lionheart’s interest shifts easily. It’s a weird question, no matter how one sees it; a new Servant? In this place, perhaps? Not at all. But isn’t this city far too big for all of them Heroic Spirits to come together so easily? Unless, he remembers, an organization the Lancer from the same Grail War Richard hails from had mentioned to him, many months ago…– ❝ New? Not at all. At least I would like to consider myself an old Servant, despite the records I have found about the time when I was alive. ❞ The more recent a Servant is, the weaker they turn out to be, after all. ❝ Ah, but I’m not new in this place either. Unless you mean - what was the name, again? Chalkdia? Ah, Chaldea! -, right, do you know of it? It seems many Servants know each other from there. ❞

She blinked slow, take aback, half expecting the man to jump out of his skin. He was exuberant and excited, smile bright and shining like those knights out of a fairytale - horse white, sword clean, intentions wholesome and good. It was different, to say the least: both the sudden spurt in agreement, and everything that wafted from him. But then, Mordred wasn’t used to any sort of agreement, let alone such friendly overtones (it made her skin crawl, ill fitting and awkward).

“Eh, yeah. When you put it like that, I guess you’re right.” She rolled a shoulder, trying to shake the feeling from her skin, her bones. “Its-- interesting to see the architecture change over time; the new forms of transport, other than a horses and all that. Some things change, but for humans, a lot of it stays the same with a new look. It’s funny to see what does change, and what doesn’t.” Mordred paused, shifting from one foot to the other. 

“Well, for me, anyway. Dunno about you, or the books they’ve written since my time. Movies, though! And television! Now that I can get into!” Aerial dogfights, the rattle of gunfire and explosions littering the battlefield. Machines were an interesting advent for humans, and something about them Mordred could understand, even appreciate, when she considered it. Given the chance, she’d try her Riding skill on one such plane. She was simply waiting for the chance.

Mordred’s mind wandered from gracious skyfights back to the earth; her feet planted solid on the ground beneath her. “Yeah, Chaldea. A lot of Servants were pulled from there, myself included. But you’re not from there, huh? Nor are you new... Weird.” She chewed on the thought, no answering emerging, no matter how hard she bit down. An old Servant. How old was that, then? Older then Mordred? Older then the stones beneath Britain itself? “So, what War did you emerge from, then? Every Servant I’ve met took part in one, unless you’re the exception to that rule too.”

[traitorbred]

draconistrarum:

He chuckled from his elevated place at this small red menace. A terrifying kigurumi… “Hoh… I was wondering about ideas for designs but we might have something like that on stock. Dinosaur ones are popular. For a small fee we could do alternations… like a zombie godzilla?”

She’d wrap a hand around his shoulder, if he wasn’t so damn tall. Darn heels. “Zombie Godzilla?! Aah, now you’re speaking my language! The more gruesomely cool the costume, the better! You got yourself a deal, then! Just tell me how much, and where to pick it up!” 

[traitorbred]

kamikurai:

          ❝ Fmm? Santa? Um. So it’s like birthdays. ❞ repeating it somewhat, it’s almost as if she were taking mental notes. ❝ Hoh? So Halloween is when wild beasts and sex fiends get to freely wander the streets. Hidden among those disguised, they’re able to prey upon young and old alike without suspicion. But when they’re discovered, people throw eggs at them and treat the children they save to candy to quell their trauma. I see… so that’s how it is. ❞

The words slithered in one ear and out the other. Never mind the phrase ‘sex fiend’ - Mordred wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole. So she nodded slowly, and hummed in agreement. “... Yeah, that’s right. Uh, good job filling in the blanks. Now you can enjoy the holidays to the fullest. And don’t forget to egg some people this Halloween!” 

[traitorbred]

draconistrarum:

Wow, nothing wrong with being a pale man rocking a goth-outfit all year. “Hm? I was only curious. I work at a store that offers costumes for the occasion. I want to make sure that my n-” Wait, wrong. “ahem, that we all enjoy a creative Halloween. Less vampires, more anything else. Did you decide on one already?”

Plenty of things were wrong with it, actually. Like, who was he trying to kid with those heels? Get down here and fight her properly. “Eh? Is that right? Well, vampire’s are overdone these days, so I was thinking of something else. Something real terrifying! Like Godzilla! ... Except as a kigu, I wanna be warm, too.”

[traitorbred]

draconistrarum:

“Indeed, it’s not that far away anymore. Are you joining the festivities?“ 

Woah! Speaking of spooky, Halloween came early for this guy. “... -- Yeah, I am. For the fun of it, or whatever. And those little candy apples. Why? What’s it to you?”

[traitorbred]

kamikurai:

          ❝ Um. These holidays. What are they? ❞

“Alright, I got this. Christmas is when people celebrate the birth of Santa, and give presents to each other. It snows, too. That’s important. For Halloween you dress up as something spooky and scare the hell outta people. Some people throw eggs at houses, and kids get candy. Got it? Good.”

[traitorbred]

byebyelullaby:

@traitorbred

This was just supposed to be a nice dinner. Chris found a decent little burger place, its food not too great-looking, but it was cheap. That meant she could get her fill without breaking the bank. 

Apparently, everyone else agreed with the whole “not good food” part, because the restaurant was empty, save for a blonde woman waiting for food. Chris took her place a few seats away at the counter and ordered her own food.

Both of their burgers came at the same time: double cheeseburgers. As usual, Chris devoured her food quickly and messily. It was a bad habit from childhood she never really seemed to kick, nor did she care to. She lifted her hand…

…right as the other customer did the same.

Huh. That was weird. No one ever ate as fast as she did. Well, whatever. She ordered another double cheeseburger. So did the other woman.

And right after she finished, she ordered another one. And so did the other customer.

Okay, this was definitely on purpose. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but if this weirdo thought she could beat Chris at eating, she had another thing coming. 

“Mmmm, so good! I could keep eating these aaaaaaaaaaaall niiiiiiiiight!!!” she said louder than necessary. The challenge was officially on.

Eating was a hobby, and one Mordred enjoyed indulging more so than often. When work didn’t spill into long nights and Master was elsewhere - the morgue, a particular case she found boring beyond words, or with that El Melloi Two guy - Mordred wandered, a little aimless, and looking for a bite.

The particular joint she found was hardly top of the line (walls peeling, seats empty and a grumpy cook giving her a Look), but it beat starving. So Mordred took a seat somewhere comfy, ordered two double cheeseburgers and waited, her stomach growling impatient. A bell rung, and the shadow of another customer fell across the open space of the restaurant, but Mordred simply drummed her fingers, waiting. 

For some reason, their food came at the same time. Mordred ate (swallowed it whole, more like) and ordered again, just as the other customer did. Weird, but hardly worth lifting her head for. Then, again. The third time was no coincidence. She turned, eyeing the girl’s empty plates, her ear twitching at a challenge issued.

“Ha! You think you can take me on? You’re about to-” Mordred chewed, paused, raised her hand for another plate- “eat those words, shrimp! I’ve never lost a challenge when it came to food! Never have, never will!” 

Challenge: accepted.

[traitorbred]

“Halloween’s coming up, huh?” Aw yes, that holiday with the bobbing apples, eggs and spooky stuff. Perfect.