1766/Double Date - Lute with Saber, Bedivere with Harp

Double Date - Lute with Saber, Bedivere with Harp
Date of Scene:	09 March 2015
Location:	Southern Urbania
Synopsis:	Lute and Harp go on a date with Saber and Bedivere. It ends explosively and painfully.
Cast of Characters:	188, 346, 482

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Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute, normally, is not one who would wear a suit. But, for tonight's date? He feels it is fairly necessary. After all, Saber is /quite/ a lady, from everything he has heard. Plus, she is the King Arthur of Legend. So, he has to dress up. He's in a very beautiful black suit, tailored perfectly for him. He stands outside the location for tonight's date: The Camelot Casino, located in Southern Urbania. The casino is a rather grand one, given a bit of a medieval design, albeit with all of the lights and flash and tacky carpets and lack of clocks you would expect from any casino.

     Oddly, though? There is another woman waiting with Lute as well. This is a bit of a surprise, for Bedivere. Lute brought /him/ a date, as well. The date is, of course, Harp. She looks much akin to Lute, except with more feminine and curvy proportions. Her long brown hair is flowing freely behind her, and she wears seductive red lipstick. Her dress is black, and fairly low cut. She wears black heels, and has a little black purse with her as well.

     Lute smiles at Harp, "Thanks for coming along on this one. I know you haven't met the guy, but he's supposed to be fairly knightly."

     Harp just sighs, though, "...He /better/ be of a fairly high and noble class. And he better be cute, too. Like, I'm fine with all of your dating, but. I don't like that you're just using me to distract him while you go for a girl yourself."

     She shakes her head a bit, then looks up, "...But. I'll try to have fun, regardless."

Saber (346) has posed:
     It was difficult to tell when Saber was necessarily 'dressing up'; though she hated formal wear -- so restrictive, and terrible to fight in! -- the Servant nevertheless had taken to generally wearing the black three-piece suit and tie with a grey dress shirt, black gloves, and brown loafers when on matters of business, and on occasion, even casual affairs. Though her movement was still restricted somewhat, it was far more forgiving than a stiff formal dress. And so today, completely and perhaps blissfully ignorant of the precise nature of this meeting, she had dressed for a meeting of business, her hair bound back in a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. After all, when Lute had said that he simply wished to get to know her better, she assumed that she should be as professional as possible. The precise ways of honour might be different in the modern era, but it was still there. It took some adjusting, but deep down she was quite satisfied that there were still ways to try to convey that honour.

     Though perhaps Lute might be a little disappointed that she could reasonably pass as a young boy, at least if someone didn't look too closely.

     The prim and proper knight wore her usual impassive expression, though it was not /entirely/ bland; a mind curiosity about the place colouring the otherwise neutral mien. It was about as noisy as one would expect a casino to be, though she did not appear terribly troubled by it, having been in the modern era long enough to have adjusted well enough. No, it was the decor that baffled her. It obviously was not a castle, so why...?

     Fortunately for her confusion, however, Saber found Lute soon enough. A ghost of a smile replaced the slightly bewildered expression, and she folded her right arm over her torso and bowed respectfully in European style. "Greetings. I thank you for your invitation."

     Still no idea she and her marshal were on a date.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
What a tasteless choice of venue.

For the most part, that's the first thing that comes to the mind of the man who once oversaw the armies of Camelot. He was the one that generals answered to; the Left Hand of the King, and Marshal of the Realm of Camelot. The successes or failures of its military campaigns were in his capable hands, and on more than one occasion he had been personally responsible for driving off the Saxon host, raiding and pillaging sea-wolves from the northwestern coasts.

He has arrived in a three-piece suit not unlike the king's, although his is a few shades lighter, charcoal instead of black. Conspicuous against his left ear is a stud of red stone the colour of blood, fixed to a brass hook; it contrasts notably with his pale, pale complexion. He otherwise wears an ensemble that would speak of an urbane businessman, clean-cut and neat and precise; black doeskin gloves and polished black shoes, the ensemble completed by a tie of soft blue-grey.

He wears his long, silvery-blonde hair, currently tied back in a simple cue bound by a brass cuff, tooled with artful triskeles and distinctly Celtic-looking ornamentation.

Now, he stands before the Camelot Casino, not quite frowning as he regards the lights and the noise with evident disdain. He doesn't quite glare at the building's facade, but it's obvious that he doesn't approve of such a tasteless display. Why is it built like a castle? Crenellations wouldn't be on a building like that; and the arrow-slots are far too wide, and--

He's not quite frowning, but it's pretty close. With considerably more reserve than his king, he follows suit, tucking his right arm over his stomach and bowing low in the European style.

He does not greet either Lute or Harp, but his eyes turn immediately to Harp, then back to Lute; there's no more warmth in them than the snows of Dun Realtai. The light, grey-violet of his irises might as well be flint.

Very slowly, he arches a brow, as though to ask without words who this woman is and what she's doing here.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute is, in fact, fairly dissapointed at the fact that Saber showed up wearing a suit. Really, he feels it doesn't look right on her. Sure, she pretends to be a man or something from what he heard, but still, she'd look much prettier in a cute dress. And, whether it is fortunate or unfortunate for Saber, Lute's intention is to be made clear now.

     He moves to take Saber's hand, and place a kiss on it. The normal method of treating a noble person. But, he speaks after doing so, smiling, "Greetings, Saber. It's a pleasure to meet you in person. I'm so glad that you were able to make it for a date. I must admit, though. You are likely one of the higher class women I've had the priveledge to date. So, forgive me any impoliteness."

     He straightens up a bit, smiling, motioning towards the casino. "You should like this place. It's a casino called Camelot, themed on medieval times and whatnot. It's a place where you go to wager money on various machines and games. Free drinks, as well. It's quite an experience."

     With Bedivere not saying anything, it's given Lute an easy time ignoring him, at least for now. But, Harp is waiting rather patiently. Lute holds back a sign, annoyed that Bedivere is on this date, too. At the least, his wife is here to back up up.

     "Oh, and Bedivere. I have invited along a date for you, as well. Please, meet my wife, Harp." He motions to his wife, smiling.

     Harp walks forward. She holds herself with a very haughty demeanor, her nose tilted slightly up. Looking at Bedivere and his girly features, he has to wonder: Did Lute mix up the dates? Is he in fact accidentally going for the man? But, she hides this thought fairly well. She tilts her nose up as she greets Bedivere herself, "It is a pleasure, Sir Bedivere. I am sure a brave and noble knight such as your self will be kind to me tonight."

     She holds her hand out. She is obviously expecting a kiss on the hand as well.

Saber (346) has posed:
     What Lute had intended as a noble gesture was met with almost the same baffled expression Saber had worn upon finding the place. Blinking owlishly, it took a moment to recover from that confusion. "Ah...that is not necessary for..."

     It was as if one could hear the metaphorical gears of her mind grinding to a halt. /That/ was what this was supposed to be?

     She risked a glance at the companion at her side, full-well knowing he was already uncomfortable, and this would make it worse. He had insisted on accompanying her -- which, she had assumed was simply a part of his sworn duties to protect the king -- but she still didn't like putting him out of sorts. The knight had adjusted well enough in the half-year of being led into the modern era, but citites alone tended to overwhelm him with the noise and crowds. He'd certainly had enough of that from all the many battles they had fought together. And he had also since learned what a 'date' was.

     Suddenly, the fearless King Arthur was suddenly filled with foreboding. Oh, this was likely not going to end well.

     "Ah. Gambling. Such games were common in our era," she replied with a little more volume than her otherwise soft voice typically employed, almost as if she was trying to distract the marshal in some way. "Romans, Saxons, and Britons alike often betted against one another, though not always for currency."

     One might wonder if there was an accompanying stone to the one adorning Bedivere's ear, if it had somehow been misplaced. But when Saber tilted her head slightly to glance at him, her hair swayed sideways enough to display a very similar stone adorning her right ear. The two, it would seem, shared a bond that went beyond that of king and knight, it would seem. Given that bond, the petite blonde might have to restrain him...

     ...And then it was her turn at perhaps needing to be restrained. Jade eyes flashed at the mention of Harp's relationship to her would-be date. "Wife? Why then do you date other women? Such a thing is an affront to the virtues of chivalry."

     Of course, her own history was a bit torrid in that regard. Still, they had at least /tried/ even if they had fallen short of their lofty mark.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
There's no mistaking the way Bedivere steps closer when Lute takes Saber's hand and kisses it, and there is, perhaps to Saber, no mistaking something dark flashing in his eyes at that. It's something that comes so rarely to the soft-spoken knight; jealousy, and perhaps a hint of real anger. The sheer lack of expression on his face is probably clue enough to Saber just how on edge he is.

"I will thank you not to lay hands on my king again." His voice is so soft it might be missed in the din of the building's entryway, and it's the kind of voice that could belong either to a very soft-spoken man, or a hard-voiced woman -- ambiguous enough not to be able to ascertain too easily. "As to whether my king likes this place, that is up to her to decide."

He's already decided he doesn't like it, it seems. This may be because it's about as historically inaccurate as one can expect it to be. Or, maybe that's expressly because Lute picked it out.

Fifty-fifty shot on that last one.

It's hard to say whether Saber's efforts at reassurance are working or not. His expression is frightfully blank in that studied, perfectly intentional way of his when he's hiding his reaction.

Very slowly he turns his eyes to Lute and regards him with that chipped-flint look, which seems to go very flat when the woman is introduced. Saber would know, right away, that that is perhaps even more dangerous than that flash of anger.

Now he's /really/ angry.

"Pray tell," he says, in that dangerously soft tone again, "I do not believe I heard you correctly." He stares, very flatly and disbelievingly, at Lute. "Your /wife/? You /dare/ to speak of impoliteness while you dishonour your own /wife/ with your foolishness? You dare call out my king with this nonsense when /you are married/? And /you/," he adds, gaze snapping to harp, voice bright and crackling like barely-restrained electricity, "you /permit/ him to bring such /dishonour/ to you both?"

The pale-haired knight sucks in a breath and lets it out through his teeth, clearly trying to calm himself in spite of the dull ache buzzing just behind his eyes. Somewhat gamely he tries to ignore the beginnings of his headache.

Oh, Lord God grant him courage, but this is going to be a long and miserable evening.

His eyes open, though, flicking again to Harp.

"Greetings, my lady." His voice is soft and his tone is not at all warm. He inclines his head deeply enough to indicate courtesy, but he does not make the slightest move to take her hand, nor kiss it. "It is a pleasure."

The bland tone of his words suggests that no, it really isn't.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute just chuckles a bit, at Saber's confusion, and at Bedivere's confusion, about the whole wife thing. Lute just sighs a little bit, before moving to take Saber's arm in his own, as one does on a date. Of course, a lot of the other couples wandering around are doing similar, or at least keeping close, so it shouldn't look out of place. It should just piss off Bedivere and Saber.

     "...You know. I'd explain why my wife and I are okay with this, but. ...Knowing my reputation, I think I'll have Harp explain."

     Harp? She is currently frowning. Before she can even move onto /any/ explanation, she is going to have some... /words/ with Bedivere. "...And, here, I thought you were a noble knight. And yet, you are not even properly greeting a /lady/? I insist that you must kiss my hand, before we head inside. Wouldn't it be the /proper/ thing to do?"

     She gives an incredibly annoyed look at Bedivere. She is so going to get Lute for this. Seeing her up with such a knave. Still, though, she moves on, explaining as asked. "...Well. My husband and I have an understanding. Society has changed quite a bit since your days. While we are comitted to eachother, we both realize that we have feelings for others as well. So, what need is there to hold back these feelings for others? Should Lute see a woman he is interested in, he may approach her, just as I might."

     She keeps her hand in the air, waiting for Bedivere to kiss it.

     Lute shrugs a bit, "See? We still love eachother, and we're still comitted to eachother. So what's wrong with loving others too? The chivalry codes have changed."

Saber (346) has posed:
     Oh dear. It would seem that, for all of the inspiration chivalry had inspired in the people of the world, it seemed than there was a great deal of confusion as to what it actually was. Some, it would seem, understood very little of it. So caught up in trying to set those mistakes right, in fact, that she ended up being almost dragged along. "That is not...a lady is...not a trophy, of course, but is the singular star of a knight, the one who outshines all others..."

     Not that she was speaking of herself, naturally; one might have the faint impression that she spoke of Guinevere, even if it was not a true marriage. At least, not as far as either party was concerned. Still, her 'wife' was nevertheless the pinnacle of what it meant to be a lady...at least as far as the King of Knights was concerned. One might even get the impression she looked up to the queen in some ways.

     But then, she stopped abruptly, turning to face Harp. Her smile was a pleasant, sweet one, otherwise beautific to behold...if not for the sense of a killing aura which seemed to rise from her. "I see, I am afraid that you are mistaken," she said with a similar sweetness. "It is not a gesture of greeting, but a sincere pledge of a knight towards his lady. For other noblewomen, a proper bow is appropriate, to preserve the honour and personal space of both lady and knight."

     Was it true? Possibly not, but the aura seemed to suggest that Saber did not find such a prospect agreeable. At all.

     It seemed to dissipate at her confusion, fortunately. "...Understanding?"

     Her frown was more puzzled than anything else. "Mutual as it may be, it is nevertheless something which, in the virtues of chivalry, brings dishonour to a knight or to a lady. I do not know what you would name your code of honour, but I am afraid that it is not chivalry."

     The diminutive knight shook her head. "The Eight Virtues do not change, regardless of the era. Times themselves might have changed, but the code of chivalry transcends eras."

     She tossed a sour look at Harp. "More to the point, it is a code of conduct for the knighthood, not a method of romantic pursuit."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
A lot of people don't bother to internalise their feelings, and they express themselves very loudly when they're angry to this degree. Bedivere is not like a lot of people, and he tends to interalise virtually everything. So it is that the silver-haired knight limits himself to silence. His eyes are the worst of all. They've gone terribly flat.

He lets that stand for several moments. His eyes slide briefly to Harp, then away from her, dismissing her and her explanation without ever needing to say a word. They fix solidly on Lute.

Something ugly flashes in them when Lute dares to mention chivalry, yet still he doesn't move. Fortunately, there's no argument with Saber's clarification. He still makes absolutely no move to take Harp's waiting hand, nor does he seem inclined to.

"No," he says, so softly it might be missed. "There is nothing of the Eight Chivalric Virtues in that belief of yours. Perhaps it is your belief, but it is not ours, and it will never be ours. This is not some game to us. We are only here because honour demands that we answer your summons with all due politeness. Rest assured that my king and I have no desire to be here, however, nor do we comply because we have any interest in whatever it is you wish to pursue."

His eyes flicker toward Lute. "Play your games. But do not play them with my king. Do not presume to insult her honour so, I warn you." Again, something ugly flickers in the depths of his mild, grey-violet eyes. "The only thing protecting you right now is the fact that we are in a public venue, and it is thus neutral ground."

"But know this: I will not forget that you have insulted her honour so. It will perhaps not be today, nor tomorrow, nor even in a week's time, but I will exact my price for that breach from you. Consider yourself warned."

Silence again. Although he holds himself perfectly still, that in itself is probably a clue for Saber. He holds himself /too/ still. Even his breathing is baerly visible, so measured as to be even more subtle than usual, the line of his shoulders nearly motionless.

"Honour demands that I see through the end of this meeting, for we have agreed to meet you here. Let this be over with, then," Bedivere finally says, again in that tone so soft it suggests he's struggling to control himself.

Another moment of silence.

"You may put your hand down," he adds, to Harp, voice soft and somewhat disapproving.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Harp, as a note, is /refusing/ to put down the hand. Or at least, she isn't putting it down yet. Instead, she continues to glare at Bedivere. "...Really? You're in a land that isn't your own, taking hospitality from someone, and refusing to honor their own traditions? ...Hrm. I would call you the worst knight ever, but, I will hold my tongue, because I do not want to be /rude/. You can redeem yourself by kissing my hand, though."

     And she just stands there in Bedivere's way, even as Lute is slowly guiding Saber forward a bit. She's just right there, blocking his path.

     Lute shrugs a little bit, chuckling, "Sorry if I'm not understanding the chivalry thing. I admit, I don't really /get/ it, but. Well, whatever. My way of life works for me. I understand if you two don't like it. But... Hey, it's fun. Why not live life more freely, if it doesn't hurt people?"

     But, with Bedivere refusing to kiss Harp, Lute is actually getting a bit annoyed. This is a /grave/ insult to him and his wife. The absolute anger in Bedivere's face though... Lute just has to wonder what will happen if Bedivere explodes, right here, right now. And, there is something Lute is willing to try and do, knowing that it'd piss Bedivere off. And it's something Lute was planning to try anyways.

     "...Man, what kind of person would snub a beautiful lady like that? ...Well. Whatever. Oh, by the way, Saber? You have something on your face. Here, one second."

     The comment about something on her face seems, at first, like Lute is going to wipe something off her face for her. He even moves his hand up to her face for a second.

     And then his lips move in to try and kiss Saber squarely upon them.

Saber (346) has posed:
     "I am aware that this is a...cultural difference, and that you meant no offence. But please, I would ask that you refrain from these gestures which are against our..."

     And then, Harp invoked hospitality. Bother.

     She quite clearly didn't like the idea -- hated it, in fact, as if her seething jealousy wasn't clear enough. But unfortunately, Saber's own code could work against her, and invoking it was -- much to their detriment -- one of the easiest ways to coerce the knights. She almost wished Gawain was present to pull some insane troll logic which would be insane enough to actually work, but she felt bad enough that she had dragged Bedivere down into this mess.

     It was fortunate in times such as these that Saber and Bedivere had a form of pseudo-telepathy. /As reprehensible as it is,/ and he might be able to sense his king gritting her teeth, /Just this once, do as she demands. She is correct that we are under Brehon Law, though they do not observe it as we do./ After all, she did want to keep things as diplomatic as possible.

     Indeed, Arturia read those signs well. Bedivere had never allowed disparaging gossip and outright insults to his face to trouble him...as long as those insults and rumours were about him. But the king had always been another matter, and more than once he had threatened to draw his sword at any perceived insult of her honour. Lute hadn't meant to, obviously, but the clash of cultures meant that he had...even as they had apparently insulted theirs in turn.

     She could feel the same headache Bedivere was feeling creeping up on her, as well. All those years of skilful diplomacy, out the window in an instant.

     "Be that as it may, I think perhaps you should seek out those of a similar culture, who would not...find your ways as...peculiar as we do." She did, however, seem more assuaged after Lute admitted that it wasn't chivalry. On that point she would continue to vehemently insist that it wasn't....whatever it was.

     "He is not snubbing, it is simply improper for him to..." she started almost helplessly. "I myself would not have presumed to, as it would have brought dishonour to my queen..."

     Only, she never got the chance to finish before Lute decided to make his move. The idea never would have occurred to her what he was attempting to do -- still somewhat stuck on the idea that Bedivere was the only man who would ever see her as something other than a knight or king -- or at least as a girl. It wasn't until the very last moment that the realisation dawned on her that she was in serious trouble.

     Well. As committed to the code and Brehon Law as he was, there was no helping it once Bedivere lapsed into his very rare berserker rage. Regretfully, this was doubtless going to be one of those times.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
It's true that Brehon Law is one of the few things that would ensure both knights remain on their best behaviour, obedient as a hound on a lead, but there are also certain things that can override those most ancient of customs. It is to Lute's misfortune that he has discovered, perhaps by accident, exactly what those triggers might well be.

When Lute closes the distance to the dimunitive king, he gets no warning at all from the silver-haired knight.

He does not roar. He does not bellow. Bedivere does not do any of the things that might otherwise give away his intent, but he does bull straight past Harp, nearly shoulder-checking her in his single-minded insistence to get past her. While he was never the strongest nor the tallest knight in Camelot, his wrath lends him impressive strength -- and she's probably lucky that she isn't the target of his rage.

Lute is.

Bedivere knocks the man away from Saber with a sound that can only be described as inhuman; a snarl so deep and enraged that it sounds like it doesn't even come from the throat of a man, but rather a bear or a wolf, or some other predatory and extremely angry animal.

His momentum carries him, and by extension Lute, straight away from Harp and Saber and, by turns, straight into the nearest wall. Bedivere slams his target against the wall by the throat, fingers clawed and maintaining a vice-grip around the Pokemon Researcher's throat.

He snarls again into Lute's face, unthinking and unreasoning, and there is something downright insane in his violet eyes; something absolutely unreasoning, an insane rage well past the point of logic or of soothing it. Every line in his body suggests that if this weren't a public place, if he weren't already disrupting normal society here, he would very earnestely be trying to kill Lute. His arm trembles with the effort of keeping his hand just loose enough for Lute to breathe. Mostly.

"I would have accept differences," he snarls, finally finding the ability to articulate words again, "and I would have accepted a lack of understanding, which you have demonstrated." He breathes through his nose, hard, trying unsuccessfully to rein in his wrath. Already he can see red at the edges of his vision. "But to have you insult chivalry, insult Brehon Law, and insult my king, /I WILL NOT stand for it/!" he barks into Lute's face.

He may or may not actually be pinning Lute to the wall above what should be ground level for Lute.

"And to have you further insult it by such base displays, such--such--" He can't even speak. Indeed, his eyes look a little bloodshot. "I /will not/ have it," he snarls. "Had I my sword you would be a dead man. A /dead man/!"

Lute (188) has posed:
     Harp, unfortunately, didn't even see this coming. She was looking away from Lute at the time, and so has no clue what Lute just did. The only thought in her head, as she sees Bedivere rushing forward with enough strength to knock her away is one thing: 'OH DEAR GOD WHAT DID YOU DO LUTE?'

     But, Lute is slasmmed away, grabbed by the throat. His back is against a wall, and he is stunned. He really had no idea that Bedivere would go /this/ berserk over it.

     But. Lute has /one thing/ still left that he can do.

     One last chance to get Bedivere off of him.

     He kicks Bedivere in the crotch. Hard.

Saber (346) has posed:
     For a moment, it had seemed that Arturia might be able to salvage the situation. Bedivere would be unhappy throughout, Harp would likely still be unhappy over the perceived slight, Lute would be upset over the perceived slight to his lady, and the King of Knights herself would not much enjoy things as she was /technically/ on a 'date' while her actual sweetheart suffered in silence. There would be no actual 'fun' to be had from this point on, but perhaps there might be a parting on amicable terms. Just because one's companions were in the faction dedicated to wiping you out didn't meant that they couldn't be civil about it.

     alas, it was not meant to be. Before Saber could move to try to /politely/ distance herself from Lute, there was a blur of dark blue and platinum blonde which removed the impending danger of her lips being claimed. The Pokemon researcher had unfortunately and somewhat unwittingly trampled all over the Marshal of Camelot's berserk button.

     Yet, even then she could plainly see that he was trying his very best to get his temper under control; for both the sake of honour of his knighthood and for her sake. He was always so very careful not to hurt her that sometimes his over-caution itself was painful. After years of keeping strict control over himself, at times Bedivere didn't seem entirely sure of how to /not/ be.

     "Be at ease, my lord," she attempted to soothe him, betraying a hint of the true nature of their newfound relationship. "It was foolish, but no lasting harm has been done to my honour..."

     Not before Lute made his move, anyway. With any of her knights, it would have been unforgivable. Even the barbarian Saxons would have never stooped to such a low; violent but proud and holding the proper respect for masculine dignity. Whether successful or not, the very /idea/ was offencive, even if Arturia would never truly be a man.

     The killing aura had been subtle before, but now it loomed clearly, making the otherwise diminutive knight seem far taller...or at least more imposing. And very, very angry.

     "I had wished for this to end pleasantly, for us to come to some understanding. But now I see that it is impossible."

     There was a sharp blast of wind, and Saber was no longer clad in her suit, but her familiar battle armour, the invisible Excalibur in her right hand. Her face remained eerily calm, but her eyes seemed to flicker slightly with hints of gold, and had the pupils become slightly slitted, like a reptile's, or even a dragon's?

     There was little time to ponder such mysteries. "Unforgivable," was all she said before holding her sword straight out and releasing the Bounded Field around it, right at Lute.

     "Air Strike!"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
There aren't very many things that can reduce Bedivere to an incoherent rage, but Lute somehow managed to find one of them. All reason has fled from those violet eyes, bright and wrathful as a beast's, and the pressure against the Pokemon Researcher's throat is slowly increasing.

He sees his victim's shift in weight, though, perceptive even in the midst of his insane rage. The knight shifts to suit; Lute's foot connects with the inside of his thigh just above the knee, instead of a far more debilitating point. It still hurts like a son of a bitch, but it doesn't put him on the ground.

He also hears the sound of Saber's armour, and it's with a snarl that he bodily throws Lute aside, possibly right into the slicing path of the Bounded Field of the Wind King. Staggering against the wall, he flexes one hand into a fist and lowers the other to rub at the afflicted tendon, teeth bared in pain as much as rage. Short of breath, it still hurts incredibly, and it's obvious he'll be limping for days with the kind of bruising that'll give him.

Where is his sword? Through it all, he keeps reaching for a blade that he isn't wearing, which in and of itself is telling to his anger; at least to Saber. /Where is his sword/?

Absent, because it would have been improper to bring it. Bedivere settles for staggering down against the wall, but he's still watching Lute; eyes still tracking the Pokemon Researcher. They're the eyes of a beast -- glittering with hate, alive with wrath. If he had draconic blood flowing through his veins, his own eyes would be turning yellow, too.

Eventually he forces himself to tear his attention away from the object of his fury, and to Harp.

"Get out," he snarls. "Take your knave with you, harlot. We will not pursue you, out of respect to the people of this place. You deserve one another. If you do not leave," he rasps, "I will kill him. If my king does not do so first."

Lute (188) has posed:
     Lute /might/ of had a chance to parry, or block, or at least get out of the way of the Air Strike. It's not as if he is dumb enough to leave his actual weapons behind. His Pokeballs are, in fact, in his pocket. But, as Bedivere proves stronger than him, Lute is tossed into the path of the blast. And, as Lute is struck, he is blasted into the wall of the casino. He lays there. He isn't unconcious, but he is definitely winded. He is also definitely overwhelmed. This is fairly unusual for it to go /this/ badly. Plus, Bedivere is pissed at him defending himself?! So is Saber?

     Harp, though? She remains calmer. She simply frowns at Saber, and then at Bedivere. She walks towards Lute's location, still with the air of superiority surrounding her. She speaks, rather calmly, to the two Knights of the Round, "So. This is what passes for a knight, then? Enraged at a simple kiss. Attacking a man who is simply trying to defend himself against another? Well. So be it. We know what kind of knights you both really are, /now/."

     She kneels next to Lute, reaching into his pocket. Out comes a Pokeball. She opens it, and a Gardevoir appears. It's a teleporting Pokemon, but she is aware the other two don't know this. And so, Harp speaks, calmly. She is of a high class family herself, so she keeps herself better than Lute, at times.

     "...I'm simply making preperations for our departure. Trust me, I have better things to do than fight a man who would call me a 'harlot', and a man who won't even act with any noble dignity whatsoever. Gardevoir, prepare to Teleport."

     Gardevoir begins to glow. Lute is on the ground, coughing and bleeding. And Harp remains calm. This? This is why she doesn't like people, why Pokemon are better. People are assholes over minor things, like chivalry.

     "...Either way. Saber, I'll be telling your daughter about this. I'm sure it will please her to hear that her mother is as anger prone as she is. Also..." She glances, at Saber, and Bedivere. She knows enough about medieval lingo to put the ideas together. These two are probably a couple. It's likely why Bedivere reacted so strongly.

     "...Also, I think Mordred would like to know something else I realized tonight, as well."

     The Gardevoir is still preparing to teleport away. There is still time for parting comments, though.

Saber (346) has posed:
     For all of Harp's offended indignity, Saber merely turned a bland expression on the Pokemon Researcher. The anger had waned, if not dissipating completely. "Your man attacked me, first," she replied matter-of-factly. "His intent was irrelevant when he attempted to assault the king, and my marshal acted to protect me, as is his sword duty as a knight. I had thought you would understand, perhaps attempt to learn our ways as we have attempted with yours. I see that I was mistaken."

     She smiled thinly, almost viciously. "I would suggest that, if you wish to protect your husband better, keep him on a tighter leash."

     Strangely, she didn't seem particularly bothered by Harp's assessment. at least, not of herself. In that way, she and Bedivere were nearly mirrors of the other, enduring all manner of slight, ridicule, or insult towards their own persons...and utterly intolerant of such directed at the other. Yet, she made no move to stop her from summoning their transport.

     It might have been that the King of Knights would have allowed them to simply take their leave without a parting shot. As king, she had forced her emotions completely out of the picture, to be as impartial as possible and to govern the people equally with just laws and mercy. Yet, something ugly stirred within her, the vestiges of the simple squire's apprentice she had been, and she found herself channelling her adopted brother at the mention of Mordred. The two had reconciled, and Mordred had no doubt caught wind of her rather interesting change in personality. The homunculus was, after all, a duplicate of her; Mordred was in some ways the flip side of her 'father'. She /had/ hoped to set a better example, but on the other hand, she wasn't always certain how Mordred would react to anything.

     "Yes, I am quite certain she will be delighted to hear how she is a proper lady compared to her father," the Servant remarked blandly.

     It was only once the duo had departed that Saber allowed her almost disaffected expression to fall away into one of concern as she dismissed armour and Excalibur alike and made her way to the side of the pale-haired knight. "Come, let us return home," she said, offering her hand. At least now, they had a proper home to return to.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Harp's haughty rejoinder earns no respnose whatsoever from the silver-haired knight. He's still hunkered against the wall, staggering every so often as he's forced to take his weight on the leg that was kicked. It's going to hurt ferociously, later, but right now it only registers as a dull ache at the back of Bedivere's perceptions.

He's still far too busy trying to kill Lute and Harp with a look from those bloodshot, red eyes. There's no doubt from his appearance that he's seeing things through a fine mist of red, and that he's bending every fibre of his being towards controlling that rage. Never before had he tried to /control/ it, and it's taking every ounce of his considerable willpower to do.

"Get out," he snarls, the word drawn-out and laborious; both from pain, and because he's so angry it's getting exponentially harder even to speak.

Telling Mordred about any of that doesn't seem to matter to him in the least. He just wants them gone; the killing urge will abate when the focus of his rage isn't right in front of him.

Maybe.

Bedivere staggers against the wall, finding his balance again and using the cool concrete to keep himself from any further awkwardness. He'll remain that way until Harp collects her husband and teleports away, and then he slowly sags against the wall, exhaling slowly through his nose.

He looks up at Saber approaches him, and the terrible rage seems to leach out of him; sanity returning to his gaze, and lines of pain starting to show on his face. But he gathers himself and forces himself to get to his feet, though the movement obviously costs him something. He must've been kicked pretty hard; his face goes a bit paler than normal, and he stumbles against the King of Knights.

"I am sorry, my king," he breathes, bowing his head slightly. "He is right. I--I have shamed you. Home," he half-adds, half-agrees, more subdued. "I have no more wish to be in this place."

He never really did develop an appreciation for modern cities. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Lute (188) has posed:
     Harp just remains still. She turns her nose up to Saber a bit. Even she knows, from just listening to the radio, that Mordred probably wouldn't consider being a 'proper lady' a good thing. But. Still. She's not going to betray taht she knows this.

     "This insult won't be forgotten. Don't you forget it."

     And, Harp places her palm on her lips, kissing it. She blows the kiss to Saber. And then, another to Bedivere.

     And then she teleports away, along with Lute and the Gardevoir.

     Of note, the bouncer will probably not allow Saber and Bedivere into the Casino at this point, if they felt the desire to check it out still. Not that it is likely at all they'd try to go inside now.