3405/A Grand Challenge

A Grand Challenge
Date of Scene:	16 November 2015
Location:	Njorun Station - Ring of Philosophy
Synopsis:	Nero and Toph decide to figure out who is the best sculptor, and Lancer of Black gets to judge.
Cast of Characters:	20, 880, 886

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Nero (880) has posed:
     The time has come.

     The time for the grandest of contests that would go down in the pages of history.

     The time for two shortstacks to decide, who among them is truly able to claim the title of 'The Best'.

     There is no more waiting. That time...is now.

     As if right on time, no later or earlier, a short statured woman steps into the area. Garbed in a regal dress of red, white, and gold, she strides with confidence and grace. The smile upon her face never faltering. Her blonde hair sways with each step.

     It is Saber. Differentially known as 'Red Saber'. Her green eyed gaze smoothly takes in the surroundings. "Hmph. So this is to be the stage of our decisive contest? Very well. I shall allow it!" Her gaze settles then settles upon her opponent. Toph Beifong. Earthbending master, and the one who challenged her to this grand duel of the arts.

     "I trust you are prepared for what is to come, Lady Beifong?" Her smile widened at that, unable to contain the excitement welling up inside of her at this very moment.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    When Red Saber arrives, Toph is already waiting in the Ring of the Philosophy as she said on the radio. The young girl is short for her age indeed. While Red Saber is robed in extravagance, the earthbender is simply clad in a baggy sweater and leggings, her feet bare. Her own hair is in a messy bun, and it looks like she hasn't bothered dressing up for this event today. Then again, she was only released from medical the other day and has spent her weekend recovering at home. But hey, teens get antsy from lying on the couch, and well... this isn't sparring.

    The comment regarding the arena earns a nod, and Toph gestures. "I have the materials I need here." It's been set up properly, at least in her opinion. Earth all around, metal and crystals shining in the light. All materials that the young girl can work with. "I don't know how you make statues, but yeah, I'm prepared," Toph responds, reaching her hand up to cough slightly. All in all she seems rather confident. "So... how will we decide on a winner? The biggest statue? The one with the most decorations?" Maybe they should get some judges...?

Nero (880) has posed:
     "Mhmhmhm...." Saber chuckled once Toph brought up the issue of what the winning criteria was. "Quite simple! The winner of this contest will be the one who makes the most beautiful statue!" Wait, what sort of criteria was that? It was too abstract! But she sounded totally sure about that.

     They totally needed judges. They'd never be able to decide who won by themselves.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    "Hey," Toph snorts, placing her hands on her hips. "Beauty is subjective. We could argue and argue until we're exhausted." Yes... they will need judges, so Toph reaches a hand up to fiddle with the radio piece in her ear. "Goldie was heading on over, he said... but we will need more judges in that case." Because she knows that Tony will most likely be biased. Then again, Red Saber is charismatic enough for him to like her, who knows?

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     Lancer of Black is either fashionably late, or astoundingly early. The tall, pale, taciturn Servant is dressed in his usual black fur coat, his gold and jewelry - generally all the accoutrements of his station, which looks wildly out-of-place in a random sculpture contest. But Lancer of Black is nothing if not thorough and proper.

     Trailing him is his much-less-well-dressed Master, Thomas von Richten Yggdmillennia. The man's rubbing the back of his head as they arrive, dressed in a tee-shirt and jeans (though notably with a belt of tactical gear wrapped around his waist). He holds up a hand.

     "Hey," Thomas offers, pulling out a chair at the judge's table for Lancer. Lancer sits down, ramrod-straight, his predatory golden eyes fixed on the ladies.

     "The rules of this contest," Lancer begins, holding out a hand; Thomas hands him a legal pad and a quill, which Lancer sets down in front of him.

     "Have they been agreed upon? Have stakes been set? The wager, mutually acceptable between you? The ante, both-agreed?"

Nero (880) has posed:
     After some radio banter, and Lancer's prompt arrival, Saber coughed quickly into her fist, as if to bring matters back to the arena. "Greetings, Sir Lancer! Sir Yggdmillennia! The rules of this contest are simple. Lady Beifong and I are simply to create a statue that is the most beautiful! The stakes are nil beyond the loss of one's pride, We wager nothing but our wills and this is acceptable." She looked towards Toph at that point. "We agree, yes? Of course we do!"

     And then the short Servant turned away, hands on her hips. "Now then, Sir Lancer is here. The arena is prepared. You are prepared. I am prepared..." A grin spread across her face and she spread her arms. "Let us dispense with the pleasantries and decide who is the greatest sculptor here this day!"

     A pause followed.

     "Of course, it is me, but I will allow you to struggle and fight your way through a trial of skill, as a formality. Let it not be said that I am unkind! Ah ha ha ha ha!" And with a hand pressed against her chest, Saber tossed her head back and laughed her usual irritating laugh.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    The earthbender doesn't move when Lancer of Black and his Master arrives. If they are going to have judges, why not bend them somewhere to sit? The blind girl raises her foot, then kicks down into the ground, causing three fancy stone thrones to rise up from the ground. Hey, they might as well get somewhere fancy to sit, right?

    At least they agree on some things, it sounds like. "Yeah, we're not in this to win anything but glory and bragging rights," Toph confirms, though she arches an eyebrow at Red Saber. "Just so you know, I can speak for myself, and I will." Though when Red Saber claims she is the greatest one, Toph snorts and begins cracking her knuckles. "The only thing you're better at so far is bragging, Reddie! But we are waiting on more judges, it won't be fair with just one. Evangeline is coming too."

    Is Toph's eyebrow twitching slightly at Red Saber's laugh...? Possibly.

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     Lancer starts writing the minute Red Saber starts speaking. His quill scratches across the paper rapidly, his handwriting neat and elegant without a single flourish. No clumsy scribbles or clunky cursive, here - the legal pad looks like as much care was taken with it as the Magna Carta itself, covered in archaic, beautifully-detailed lettering. By the time Saber and Toph are finished explaining things to him, Lancer presents them both with the document.

     It is, um. Fancy.

     Clauses are outlined - agreeing to the final word of the judges, rules for appealing the decisions, the reward of bragging rights...it's like a legal document from the 1500s stepped out of time and was transported onto a...yellow-lined legal pad.

     Lancer's signature is prominent, along with a series of lines below it, presumably for the signatories.

     Lancer has no apparent reaction to the stone thrones. Thomas, by contrast, relaxes in his, legs folded, hands back behind his head like pillows.

     "I take this role seriously," Lancer of Black informs them both in his thick Romanian accent as he sets the quill down next to the paper, "And I will spare you no effort in ensuring that my judgements are fair and correct, according to my training as an artist, unbiased by prior relationships or personal opinions. This document guarantees that. It is my word in writing, that you understand exactly how seriously I take this."

     Once that's done, Lancer digs into his coat and pulls out a pair of...

     ...knitting needles and yarn.

     He does not lean backwards in the throne. He doesn't even take his eyes off the two of them as he starts knitting.

     This is Serious Business. Egos are at stake.

     Egos are very important to Heroes.

Nero (880) has posed:
     Saber nodded in satisfaction at Lancer's final tallying of the rules. "Indeed! Very good! I except no less from Sir Lancer!" She pays absolutely no mind to the sight of him pulling out a knitting project and proceeding to continue with it.

     What? People had hobbies! Knitting was an art! No less of an art than anything else!

     And so she faced Toph and smirked. "Well it seems your Evangeline is not here. Therefore, I propose we start! Time is wasting, and I would like to proceed to my victory in this lifetime!" But wait, Saber you're already dead. No, shut up, screw logic!

     All that in mind, she moved on, approaching a rather sizable, rectangular boulder of rock. "Yes, this will do! I shall work with this!" And then in a flash, the Servant produced her weapon! Aestus Est-....wait no. It was a pick. ...A pick shaped like a miniature Aestus Estus. And in her other hand was a hammer. A red and black hammer with the same aesthetic as the pick.

     "Regardless of my victory, Lady Beifong, I wish you luck!"

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    It's a good thing that the judge will be taking things seriously for this entire matter. While she can't read the document she hears what Lancer is saying, though Toph blinks. "You know I can't write in the normal way, right?" she points out, then gestures to her unseeing eyes. "Glad you take this seriously though." It's a matter of pride!

    ... is he knitting?

    Toph doesn't seem too concerned with this. What matters is that he seems to be taking this seriously, and well... he wasn't lying from what she could tell, so most likely he will be a fair judge. Which is all that matters. So Toph nods when Saber speaks. "You mean my victory." No, she's not discouraged at all. "Besides, I can make a statue within seconds." It's no lie. Even as Saber inspects a boulder, Toph assumes an earthbending stance. This place isn't real rock, but it will serve well enough.

    All it takes is a few movements of her hands, and the rock moves on its own accord, shaping and twisting as a twenty foot tall rough humanoid figure rises out of the ground. "Hmmm... what to make," she mumbles to herself. Oh well, why not challenge Saber in what she said on the radio the other day? Toph reaches one hand out towards one of the nearby crystal clusters, and parts of it comes flying to land in Toph's waiting hand. Then she breaks it up into smaller pieces, seemingly needing no tools in order to do so. Her other hand reaches out, and the earthen statue shifts more, shaping itself into the familiar visage of the lord of Dun Realtai himself. Another motion of her hand, and a rock cape billows out behind him, as if he's caught in heroic wind that tugs on his hair and clothes. His arm extends, pointing his sword forward in a challenging pose, and Toph seems to ponder on the details. All in all it's taken her about fifteen seconds to shape the general statue... and she appears to be taking her sweet time as she rolls the crystals in one hand. "Hmmm."

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     Lancer is most definitely not lying. The Servant's pulse is so rock-steady Toph might even try to bend it. Evidently he was not, in fact, aware of the girl's blindness, but once she begins, he scratches an X on the paper for her. He's at least nice enough to make sure that, on this complex document, everybody involved is represented in the same way.

     Man might be *scary* cold, but at least he's /fair/ about being scary cold.

     "Aren't you already-" Thomas starts. He's immediately cut off by Lancer holding up a hand in warning. Thomas looks from the golden-eyed Lancer to Saber, then just kind of nods and goes quiet. His hand goes to his forehead. What a hassle Servants were. If he'd only known he'd wind up a glorified chauffeur-slash-battery...oh well. It was better than spending his life killing vampires. He was less likely to die horribly...maybe, kind of? Then again, he was a Master, so...

     Lancer's hand goes back to his knitting needle as he watches he two work. Saber's technique is classic chiselling, though with some particularly ornamented tools. Toph, on the other hand, is using the martial arts of her world, which is a bit harder to judge. Lancer's eyes flick between them at steady intervals, like a golden tick-tock clock.

     "I feel like," Thomas says after a bit, "I should be announcing this, or something."

     "If you wish," Lancer says, "If you are bored, I do not require you for anything further."

     "No, I'm good. Art just isn't really my 'thing', that's all."

Nero (880) has posed:
     "We shall see!" She replied, eyes locked onto the stone slab before her. What to make, what to make... Her first thought was to glorify Sir Bedivere without his permission yet again, but... "Huhuhu..." A creepy chuckle escaped from the Servant's lips as another, different idea wormed it's way into her mind. She knew /exactly/ what to make.

     Saber took a stance and narrowed her eyes. Prana gathered into her body and a certain Hyral who is not here would feel a distinct MP pull. And then she began. Her pick, held like a sword turned bright red with heat as she stepped forward and proceeded to cleave straight into the stone as if cleaving though butter. hey wait, that's not how you sculpt! Nonetheless, as the seconds passed, the slab of stone began to look less and less like rock, and more like a human shape.

     It was the shape of a man laying down on his back. But that was just the bottom half of the stone. Grinning like the cheshire cat, Saber continued to cleave away stone with surprising precision. And soon the details began to get clearer and clearer. The top half took shape and it turned out to be the shape of another man. Both were well toned and turning out to be less than optimally clothed.

     Clink clink clink

     Finally stopping with her high speed slashing, the blonde shortstack began to focus on finer details, chipping away quickly with her hammer and pick the proper way. The faces were starting to get clearer and clearer...but who were they?

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    Okay, don't focus on whatever it is that Saber is sculpting, Toph tells herself. Instead she focuses on her own statue, bending it more and more into shape with careful consideration. As she does so she adds gems in specific places, like the eyes, any accessories that Sir Bedivere normally wears. The statue is becoming massive, and the blind girl makes it look easy as she makes the rock and gems shift with subtle movements of her hands and arms. Texture and folds are added to the clothes, and soon enough the Lord stands there, his expression serious as he towers above, looking ready to defend all that is under his protection. Soon enough it's finished, and Toph steps back as she brushes off her hands. "Finished! And I took my sweet time in making it too!" So there.

    Now she's only waiting on Saber to finish.

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     "And Saber's round the bend with a naked statue of some guy taking shape," Thomas narrates to the air, "Or...two naked guys? What's going to happen next?"

     "Most proably she will continue carving until she is satisfied," Lancer replies laconically, "Followed by smoothing with a rasp or a riffler. If she is particularly thorough, she may have prepared sandpaper for smoothing. This will occur once she has the features settled."

     Thomas sighs.

     "Okay, well...this Beifong girl, she's, uh...punching stone into a person, I guess? Looks like that Bedivere guy. And she's putting...jewels on it? What will SHE do next? How will she respond to the classical Roman style of-"

     "She won't," Lancer interrupts, "Because it is not a race or a contest involving sabotage. She will continue to work the stone until it is satisfactory, then, using her technique, will likely achieve smoothness by stripping unnecessary stone, smoothing it with her mind, or otherwise-"

     "You really take the fun out of this," Thomas sighs.

     "I am answering your questions," comes Lancer's reply, "If you did not want them answered, then they should not be asked."

     Thomas waves his hand. "Right, right. I get it, you don't understand announcing."

     "I understand it perfectly well. I simply disapprove of it. It's ostentatious."

     Thomas groans. "For a guy who knits and sews so much, you're a real hardass, you know that?"

     "I don't understand the correlation."

     "Nevermind."

     Lancer shrugs. His knitting is getting pretty long, and fairly complex. It's a black-and-gold scarf? It's *really* nice.

     "Oh, uh, I guess Miss Beifong's done," Thomas observes.

     "Are you certain?"

     "Well, she said she-"

     Lancer looks at Toph very carefully. "Are you certain?"

     It's sort of like hearing a teacher ask /are you *sure* you double-checked your work/, except the teacher is an ancient Romanian nobleman famous for impaling twenty thousand guys.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    When she senses that Lancer is looking in her direction the earthbender raises her hand slightly. "I said I'm finished, and so I'm finished. I could make more statues while we wait." As a matter of fact... she will. She turns towards the metal, gesturing for it to move towards her, and so it does with a creak of protest. Then the metal twists and shapes itself as Toph resumes moving, her movements far more firm and forceful. It only takes ten more seconds, and the end result is a metal statue of Iron Man himself, both hands posed forwards as if blasting an unseen enemy with the repulsors in the gauntlets.

    Heck, if she has time she will even turn towards the crystal clusters, beginning to shape them as well as she waits.

Nero (880) has posed:
     Likewise, Saber paid no heed to Toph's work. She was far too engrossed in her own. Humming a happy little tune that sounded vaguely like what might have been a theme song, she rapidly hammered and refined her statue until she got it to just the exact point she wanted it to be at. "Hmmm...yes, indeed. Smooth this down here, chip away a bit of this, and..."

     The Servant took a step back to survey her handiwork with a broad smile on her face, and her hands upon her hips.

     "It is done!" Or so she claimed. But it looked done. It was a sculpture of two men, one laid back on the bottom, and another keeping himself suspended above atop him. They were young, about eighteen years old, and lacking in the clothing department. The one on top actually had a pair of glasses on too.

     Wait a second, glasses?

     Closer inspection would reveal that this bispectacled young man was...Souji Murasame. But then who was that other young man laying back?

     Oh.

     ...It was Landon Al Cid.

     Saber just made what amounted to BL fanfiction in the shape of a sculpture. The two of them had wholly uncharacteristic expressions on their faces, straight out of the sappy, drama ridden pages of a BL light novel. And she looked so proud of herself.

     ...But it was well done. Subject matter aside. Sleek and smooth, in classical Roman fashion. The artistry was definitely there, but...

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     Lancer does not appear to care that the statue is of two teenagers engaged in something his morality finds inherently offensive. That's not the point. He's a judge. He's judging on /artistic merit/. He stares at Nero for a long moment, then repeats, just in the same tone as he did with Toph:

     "Are you certain?"

Nero (880) has posed:
     Saber nodded proudly.

     "Indeed! I am done!"

     Yep. That was that.

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     At Nero's assent, and Toph's because she already gave it, Lancer stands. The Impaler Prince sets the nearly-completed scarf down on the table, folds his hands behind his back, and walks over. He inspects Nero's statue first with *surprising* care given his religious attitude. He inspects pretty much everything with an unimpressed, neutral gaze. Toph's heartbeat detection finds him still as steady as a rock. Man, he *does* take this seriously.

     Carefully, Lancer tests the statue. He tests the arms. He tests the legs. He checks for cracks that aren't supposed to be there, tiny little grains. He runs his hand over the shoulder in a motion that probably would suggest a lot of things were it not for the *absolutely* stoic look on his face. He taps the statue pair on each of their skulls, then straightens and walks over to Toph's.

     Toph's is larger, and Lancer actually has to jump up it, using Servant agility and strength to casually make huge leaps. It takes him a bit longer to inspect, but he's no less thorough, touching any point that catches his attention with the practiced eye of a man who's surveyed artwork a thousand times. Were it not for the gleam of his golden eyes and the fur-and-gold finery, he might almost be mistaken for a museum curator, prodding for imperfections in an ancient work.

     Finally, after more time than it actually took them to *make* the statues, Lancer strolls back over to the judge's table, seats himself upon the throne, and assumes the classic Dracula pose - legs crossed, one hand on the throne's armrest, one against his cheek, head tilted slightly.

     "On technical merit," Lancer of Black begins, "You are both deserving of some praise. I have no complaints about the craftsmanship of these pieces."

     "But," Lancer adds, dropping that right in like a blade, "That is where my praise ends!"

     The hand on the armchair comes sweeping upwards to point at Toph's statue of Bedivere. "This ostentatious work! Full of jewels and imperious vision, do you think it represents the Lord of Dun Realtai even slightly? A humble man who works hard and seeks no praise, adorned in jewels, with a face like a steel warlord! This statue does not capture life, nor truth, nor any of the virtues of its subject! This steely visage belongs to a stranger! This great size is a shameful display of arrogance unbecoming of a gentleman knight!"

     "For that alone, you fail!"

     Then Lancer's finger levels onto Saber. "But do not begin celebrating yet, Saber!"

     "Your statue is no better! The Greek himself would be affronted by this work! Beauty is meant to engage the soul, draw it towards philosophy! This is a monument to waste, art for the sake of titillation and pleasure rather than for art's sake! You who call yourself the greatest of artists should know better than to make such empty, meaningless work, without soul, without heart, without truth! Without truth, art is meaningless!"

     "Neither of you can claim the title you seek!"

     Lancer's thumb swings downwards, in a manner Nero is *most surely* accustomed to.

     "Hark that my decision is a *tie*! Your failures are at least technically-skilled, and in that, you are equal - so contend yourself with that merit alone, and reflect upon what art truly is! You are equal also in vacuousness!"

     Thomas watches these proceedings for a moment before finally volunteering,

     "I dunno, I kinda like the tall one? It looks cool."

     Lancer's hand goes to his face. "Master, your ignorance in these matters is a shameful display indeed."

     "Sorry. I mean, they're both way better than I could do, so, you know..." Thomas shrugs.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    When Saber finishes her statue Toph can't help but blink, arching an eyebrow. Okay. Sometimes she's glad she's blind. While it might look like she's tempted to comment on the subject matter of the statue, she... mercifully only says one word, muttering under her breath.

    "... oogie."

    They are done now, so Toph turns away from the crystals to face Lancer and hear his verdict. She stands still as he climbs the statue she made, noting that he is as calm as ever. When he gives his verdict however, Toph blinks, her face settling in an 'are you kidding me' expression. Yet, he's speaking truthfully, at least in his own opinion. And well... it's better to tie than to have Saber win, she concedes. Even if she does let out a huff. "I don't really agree with how you interpreted my work, but fine," she concedes. "At least your master has some taste." No, she doesn't seem upset with his verdict. Art is subjective after all, and he didn't criticise her technical skills. After all, her bending is the greatest there is. "I'm curious though... what do you consider art?" she says, then holds out her hand... and some of the crystal breaks off and hits her palm. Immediately she begins bending it into something.

Nero (880) has posed:
     While Lancer gave Toph his verdict, she could only smile and nod in a victorious manner. "Hmhmhm! As expected, I am-" And then Lancer stops her and gives HER his other verdict.

     ".....Wh-" Silence. A tumbleweed rolled through. Metaphorically. She blinked once. Twice. She pouted and looked like she was about to launch a long, whiny tirade, but stopped herself. A deep breath was had. And then- "Hah...Haha...Ah ha ha ha ha!" She burst out laughing. "Amazing! Truly, Sir Lancer is a man that cannot be impressed so easily!" And as if to save face, she laughed it up, as if it were no surprise at all.

     "Very well! I shall allow this judgment to pass. HOWEVER-" She outstretched an arm, as if making an imperial proclamation. "I shall not be satisfied with this! I will continue to march down this path, and show the myriad universes the true essence of my greatness! Sir Lancer! One day, you will change your mind! I will make it my mission! This is the will of the Emperor!"

     So she says.

     "Nevertheless, it would appear that we are at an impasse, Lady Beifong." A pause is had, and Saber chuckled. "Mhmhm, I suppose that this is fine. For now! But another time, another day, we shall truly decide it!"

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     "You have both chosen to represent someone real," Lancer tells Toph, his voice level and even, apparently apathetic towards the subtle insult, "Which means that the work should reflect them."

     Lancer rises from the throne. "If I sculpt an image of you, and it looks nothing like you, it does not matter how technically excellent the work is. It is not a sculpture of *you*. You would not say, 'that is an excellent sculpture of me' if it bears only the most passing resemblance! You would say it is a stranger, and that I am clearly incapable! It would have no truth to it, no heart, no soul. It is no better than countless works by hackneyed artists painting arrogant pictures of kings and queens, stripping away blemishes and tearing away imperfections in order to glorify and aggrandize. That is not art."

     "That," Lancer's voice turns *cold*, "is /propaganda/."

     "Art is *truth*. The soul of a work should reflect the world around it. If I look upon a sculpture of a man I have met, I wish not to see your interpretation of this man, but the man himself."

     Lancer gestures grandly to punctuate the statement. "Beauty alone is emptiness! Technique alone is emptiness! The ring of truth, the soul of the subject, captured in eternity - *that* is fine art!"

     "But," Lancer adds, "Once again, it is not your technique that is problematic. On that you have much merit. Therefore, to hold you to anything less than the highest standards of artistic merit would be an insult to those who claim to be the greatest!"

     Lancer folds his hands back behind his back and lowers his head at Saber in acknowledgement. He is, in fact, not easily impressed. He is, in fact, a brutally harsh critic. But he can respect Saber's desire. That, at least, is worthy of his praise, even if that praise is a simple bowed head.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    "Some people say it's about the emotion, you know," Toph comments as she moves her hands around the piece of crystal she's holding. Though she can't help but note how his voice turns cold. Man, this guy is /passionate/ about art, isn't he? So... no interpretation, this guy is a naturalistic artist. Gotcha. And well... the fact that he judged them strictly feels kind of right too. It's not like Toph goes easy on her own earthbending students, and if it's something she dislikes it's pushovers or people who go too easy on people.

    "Well, I hope this is truthful enough for you and payment for your time," the blind girl stays, then tosses the small piece of crystal towards Lancer and his master. It's... a tiny figurine of him, sitting on the earthen throne she bended for him, knitting.

    With that she offers the two of them a wave, then turns to leave. "I might not be the greatest artist of all time, but then again I never made a claim of /that/ title," she smirks. "Catch you on the radio later."

Lancer of Black (886) has posed:
     "I do not need payment," Lancer replies, setting it down, "My time was spent in a manner that was most enjoyable nonetheless. It has been some time since I have judged art, rather than enemies. A welcome change."

     .../really/? Because, he's...like...he's /stone/.

     "The thought is appreciated nonetheless."

Nero (880) has posed:
     Saber meanwhile, chose to take pictures of her own statue, walking around it at all angles and snapping shots. She'd have it transported somewhere else at a later date. Maybe. But for now; proof! Pictures of her accomplishments! Just in case. Yes.

     Once she was done and Toph was heading off, Saber turned and waved. "Farewell, Lady Beifong! We shall speak again in the future." And then with that, she turned to Lancer and Thomas, a broad smile on her face. "And I shall take my leave as well! Sir Lancer, Sir Yggdmillennia, you have my gratitude for coming to judge."

     And then she was off herself, humming that tune to herself again and fiddling with her phone...