999999/Crossroads

Crossroads
Date of Scene:	19 July 2014
Location:	Summer
Synopsis:	Alexander Grey meets with King Arturia and Sir Bedivere to discuss Things.
Cast of Characters:	225, 346, 482

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Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Welcome to Summer, where the days are often hot, and the nights warm. Today, the temperature is reasonably mild for the area, though warm enough to make one feel comfortably indolent. The buzzing rasp of cicadas in the trees only adds to the feeling, or the way the light seems to shimmer on the far edges of the horizon.

The village is a plain mediaeval-looking affair, with plots of summer wheat standing dry in the fields. There is a crossroads not far from the village itself, where a great oak spreads its branches, and a square has been cleared from the fields; though it had not too long ago been used for a great gathering, today it is empty. There are benches scattered through the open square, grass clipped short and earthen paths leading both back to the village, and back to the warpgate some distance away.

It's a peaceful place, overall.

That is perhaps why the tall knight standing under the shade of the oak is /not/ relaxing. Clad in plate armour and a heavy blue-mantled white cloak, the figure looks as though the heat may be slightly uncomfortable, but offers not so much as a word of complaint. The features of the knight's face are gentle, enough so that combined with long, intricately-braided hair, the figure might be mistaken for a woman if not for the broad shoulders. His hair is a blonde so pale it's almost silvery, and his eyes are a soft blue-grey, with just a touch of violet in them.

Currently they're scanning the horizon. One gauntleted hand rests on the pommel of his sword, though the gesture is more one of indolence -- or as close to it as he'll get -- more than aggression. His other hangs loosely at his side.

For the moment he seems content not to move so much as a muscle, watching the roads.

Saber (346) has posed:
Typically, when dealing with the multiverse at large, Saber more often than not appeared in modern attire: the three-piece black suit , tie, and gloves with a grey dress shirt and brown loafers. The overall appearance had been intended for her to pass as a young man -- though perhaps a somewhat pretty one -- during the Fourth War for the Holy Grail. A part of what had become her legend, yet ironically something she had never sought after until the near-end of her mortal life. Having given up that pursuit upon learning that the ethereal artefact was in fact irreparably tainted, the king of knights had rededicated herself to serving the greater goals of the Union, in addition to her current Master, Tohsaka Sakura.

But today, she was simply clad in the blue dress beneath her armour over a simple white underdress, her hair bound up in the braid so familiar to many. She waited near her most loyal knight, the very one who had sent her off after her future passing. At least, in his timeline. Unlike all other Servants, Saber was technically still alive. She could not dissipate her corporeal form, and required certain fallbacks in appropriating the universal life-force Servants required to sustain themselves. Her Master was more than adept at the task, though other times Saber simply consumed somewhat large quantities of food to sustain herself.

Like the tall knight beside her, she was quiet; the both of them having an almost telepathic way of telegraphing intent and observations to the other. Bedivere had been appointed as her marshal for very good reason, and Arturia trusted him completely to alert her to anything amiss.

Not that she expected anything of the sort from their visitor, but one never knew when some other element would present itself...as they had so recently.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander comes walking down the road. He's ditched his jacket, his white t-shirt visible - it has, in black letters, the words 'TIL DEATH' printed on it. Above his head he has an umbrella. Or... parasol? He's muttering to himself, it looks like, as he trudges along.

"Too hot," he complains. "We need to learn the Pyre-Flame... see if the Pyre-Flame Shroud works as a parasol..."

As he approaches, he spots the two standing under the tree, and raises his free hand to greet them! Once within speaking distance, he bows deeply to the woman. "Your majesty," then he gives Bedivere a salute. "Sir knight."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Said Sir Knight is immediately aware of the approaching figure, and though his posture never changes, those violet eyes flick momentarily to Saber. It's a simple enough acknowledgement that Alexander approaches, but he never says a word. He doesn't need to. Marshal and king can communicate more in a simple glance than many of Camelot's nobles could with a ream of parchment. Marshal and king are more similar than many of Arturia's retinue would ever have suspected.

It's not really telepathy, but for some of them to see it, it sure would have seemed that way.

Bedivere shifts his weight, inclining his head deeply to Alexandar in a clear gesture of respect. "I greet you, sir. I am honoured."

He falls silent, then, letting Saber do the talking. Ever the loyal subservient, him -- going by his general air, he probably won't say much unless addressed directly.

Saber (346) has posed:
Likewise, Arturia's sea-green eyes flickered to the soft violet of Bedivere's, acknowledging his unspoken observation before flickering back to where his line of sight had been. however, she did not so much as move until Alexander approached.

While hardly as cold and aloof as she had seemed in the past, Saber gave the Sin-Eater a faint smile. "Well-met," she greeted in turn, indicating a table which happened to have a rather nice tea set on it, the delicate aroma of a good brew wafting gently in the air.

"If you are so inclined," she continued, "I thought it more comfortable to sit and talk over tea."

Not that she would be offended; it /was/ rather hot today. Sadly, tea seemed to be the only thing anyone in their house ever drank, not in a household full of tea snobs.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander actually winces a little bit at the idea of tea. "In this weather...? I'm from England! Heat is, like, totally aberrant to me." He gives a little smile of jest, however, and nods his head. "...But I -suppose- I could drink it," he says, in a manner that obviously means 'I'd be honoured'.

He moves to the table, but doesn't sit before the others. "...Alexander Grey, by the way. Sin-Eater bound to the Weeping Bride."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The weather is pretty well above the usual tolerances of the silver-haired knight, but he offers no word of complaint. Actually, he seems a bit stern, standing there without speaking. One might even say he's looming protectively over the king. That observation would probably not be too far off the mark. Not that he considers Alexandar to be any sort of threat, really, but that's just his way.

Bedivere glances back to the tea service, regarding it for a moment before he lets his gaze focus on the Sin-Eater again. A title like that is ominous, and it seems he's still not quite certain what to make of the young man. The look he fixes on him is purely neutral, but perhaps Alexander might get the idea that he's being studied, all the same; and very carefully.

He had been elected marshal for a reason. Of all the Knights of the Round Table, he was perhaps the most observant; the most content to simply watch and listen, patiently, and take in details many would have missed.

Probably notably, he makes no move to sit. Apparently he's appointed himself the obligatory guardian of this little meeting.

Saber (346) has posed:
Her smile never wavered; in fact, it might have widened just slightly. That was a rather familiar sense of humour. "Ah, yes...the heat is somewhat oppressive." not quite as much for a being of pure magic, but a quick glance to the marshal indicated her concern. He could not have been comfortable in his usual plate, but -- somewhat to her exasperation -- Bedivere had insisted. In truth, his self-imposed role there was as her bodyguard of sorts, even if he was not a Servant as Saber was. however, she did little to try to dissuade him, if for no other reason than reassure him that yes, she was still there and -- for all intents and purposes -- alive. it was a comfortable role for him, one that helped him to perhaps adjust to the multiverse and the current era, so she had not tried to push the bewildered knight into it.

% "Though, perhaps we might allow it to cool for a while," she added. One day, someone would introduce the concept of 'iced tea' and would make her overjoyed, but alas, such a day has not yet come.

"It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Sir Alexander Grey," Saber acknowledged, seating herself if Bedivere allowed her to do that much. "In truth, I have heard very little about the Sin-Eaters, but I am certain you are a boon to them."

"As you have heard, I am more widely known as the Servant Saber, of the Fourth Holy Grail War and Servant of Tohsaka Sakura."

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Once they're sat down, Alexander droops in his chair a little bit, making a sighing sound - and then, he pushes himself back up, sitting politely, back straight and everything. It's clear that he CAN act 'properly', if he wants to, but it's not exactly his natural form of behaviour.

"Well, Sin-Eaters aren't... We're not really an -organisation-. But, um. Thank you, your Majesty." There's a pause, and then he looks surprised. "So... wait, you're an English mythical figure bound to a Japanese woman? Huuh. And the HOLY GRAIL? Was England even Christian in the fifth century? I know the Grail crops up in a lot of King Arthur legends, but I always assumed they were changed made in later centuries..."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Although they plainly address how unbearable the heat is, the knight stoically refuses to broach the subject. He keeps his eyes on the roads, watching with due vigilance. There's no one there, and certainly no one that would intend to interrupt him. It's habit. Vigilance isn't something he can put aside so easily.

He does tilt his head, regarding Alexander obliquely. "She is not Japanese," he says in that soft voice of his; so gentle it might be mistaken (and has been mistaken) for a woman's. "We are from Britain; from Camelot. Well... perhaps my king, and my brothers of the round table. I am from elsewhere," he observes, thoughtfully. "But it is not 'Japan...' ah, forgive me," he adds. "I speak too much."

Bedivere finds himself frowning again, violet eyes settling on Alexander Grey, but he seems more content to let Saber answer the matter of the Holy Grail. Or the Christiandom of Camelot, for that matter.

Part of him is still struggling to accept this whole 'other worlds with really freaky stuff in them' thing.

Saber (346) has posed:
Whether anyone knew her true identity or not, Saber tended to have that effect, if for no other reason than her almost rigid manners sometimes made others sit up a little straighter. And yet, for her, this was relaxed. "I see. So, more of a type of being? Servants are much the same way."

If her knight made no such moves to, she would pour the each of them tea, though she made no move to drink from hers. As she had hinted at, she would let it cool first. With a slight shake of her head, she allayed her marshal's concerns. "No, you did not speak out of turn. I am bound to Sakura,as she is to me. however, I contracted with her upon arrival in the multiverse, specifically to defeat a Servant who had been causing a great deal of chaos across several worlds, merely to search for me."

She paused for a moment, as if considering something. "However, Servants are Heroic Spirits of legend summoned specifically to fight one another in the Holy Grail War, upon forming a contract with the Master who had summoned him. A Servant can be summoned from any point in history, either past or future. Among them I have faced Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of the Fianna, summoned as Servant Lancer, and the King of Conquerors, Iskander of macedon, summoned as the Servant Rider."

She shook her head slightly. "Many of the people of my kingdom had accepted the lord Christ by the time I had ascended the throne, but the Grail was not something I had sought during my reign," she explained. "I had only sought it after the destruction of Camelot, when i wished to save it. I was then summoned to the Fourth of the Wars, which according to the universal calendar, was approximately ten years ago."

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander is silent as he listens, letting his own tea sit and cool as well. "...I... see? So it wasn't time travel that brought you to the present of your world, but some sort of magical reincarnation?" He hmms a little bit. "I don't think my world has anything like Heroic Spirits. There are... archetypal creatures, sure, but none of them are actually famous people from history, as far as we know. Well, some Geists probably are, but they're... not exactly archetypes."

His arms cross over his chest. "I don't really, uh, know much of the history of Christianity. I've never been much of a believer. I grew up... um... gifted, which kinda skewed how I looked at the world. One of the reasons my parents sent me to public school, I guess, so I couldn't embarass them in church."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Bedivere certainly doesn't seem to have any interest in pouring himself tea. Nor does he move to pour tea for the others, too, assuming the typical aloofness of a guardsman, rather than a paticipant. His eyes still linger on the road, almost as though he were actually expecting trouble, but it's clear that he's stilll listening to the conversation. Mostly. If he were anything more than human, he'd probably have one ear cocked back toward the table and one perked toward the road.

He glances back when Saber speaks of Christianity, and its place in Camelot, violet eyes lingering over both the king and the Sin-Eater.

"The people of my kingdom had not yet accepted Christianity, but neither did they reject it. The Dál Riata had ever been aloof from Camelot, though we shared common enemies. Christianity was much more widespread within Camelot itself." He reaches up with his free hand, indicating the cross that hangs from his cloak's mantle. His mouth almost twists, almost; the expression is not quite a smile. Still more reserved than Saber, it seems. "But it had found fertile soil to take root and flourish within Camelot, and we knights have always sought to do good works in the Church's name, for is it not our place as servants of the Lord God above?"

He falls silent again, though, as though truly hesitant to say so much. His eyes flit to the road before finding Alexandar once more; he dips his head, then, respectfully. "Forgive me, but I should clarify: While my king is the kind of being called a Heroic Spirit, I am not. I am but a mortal man. There are others of the Round Table who are indeed Heroic Spirits, for I have met with them in the Multiverse, and would caution you to the treachery of Mordred... but I myself am not one of them."

This 'talking freely with strangers' stuff is awkward, he decides, eyes falling away to return to the road. Bedivere shifts his weight; though it might be a simple effort to relieve the weight of his armour, no doubt Saber recognises the discomfort inherent in the motion.

Saber (346) has posed:
Jade eyes flickered to her second-in-command again; his journey had been far different, she she felt only he had the right to speak of it, if he was comfortable enough. Saber would only speak of hers. "Not for myself, no. 'Reincarnation' of a sort...though Servants require a great deal of the life-force of the universe and are difficult for even strong magi to maintain. However, the War lasts a mere fortnight, and by that time most Servants are defeated, and their magic then fills the Holy Grail until it can properly manifest in the material world. The Master and Servant who win the War can then make their wishes upon the Grail."

Saber clasped her chin between her index finger and thumb in a gesture of thought. "Out of my world, only I Unified; my Master at the time had been left behind. Under normal circumstances, I would have disappeared...however, the multiverse itself would seem to operate under far different rules."

She nodded at Bedivere's explanation before she continued with her experience. "Likewise, we lived in an era where there as magic -- True Magic which modern magi cannot achieve -- as well as our faith, one of the virtues of the chivalric code. We have sought to live up to all, to honour God and people through our virtues." Another pause. "The Holy Grail itself, however, is something else, entirely. To those who seek it, it is an artefact of such great power that it has the ability to grant any wish, no matter how impossible. However, it would seem that it had become tainted, somehow... though perhaps there are other versions which might not be. However, I do not feel that it would be wise to seek a wish from it, with such a potential to be so sullied."

She remained silent on Bedivere's point that he was entirely mortal, though she did speak on Mordred. "She is a Servant, as I am, a member of the Confederacy, and in possession of a very dangerous Abstractum. Once, she was a homunculus created from my...I believe the more current term is 'DNA'."

She might have seemed reluctant to speak about Mordred, and perhaps even a little bit of guilt had seeped into her words.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander looks mystified by the very concept of trusting Mordred. "Mordred is, like, an -archetypal villain-. Why would anyone trust -her-?" He then laughs a bit. "Man, it must suck to be famous for being a bad guy in so many other worlds." He shakes his head, grinning a little bit.

"According to the Mages in my world, they've lost the ability to use magic to do some things they used to be able to do easily. Is that what you mean by 'True Magic'? My world is -pretty magical-, though, compared to a lot of others, so... it might not really be the same thing."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"No." Bedivere is the one who speaks up again, although his denial is as soft-spoken as ever. Violet eyes slant sidelong to the Sin-Eater, studying him for a moment, lingering over that tee-shirt. Such puzzling codes of dress in this modern age. He ignores it, though, continuing on. "True Magic is the closest thing to a miracle mortal man may come. Magi of the modern age, I am to understand, are far less adept in the art than those of the age from which my king and I come."

He flexes the fingers of one gauntleted hand, as though trying to settle on how to explain it; the steel plates rattle softly. "Let us say that a magus would want to conjure... fire. A magus of the modern age, if I understand correctly, is limited in how they may do this. The world itself acts against them, and seeks to suppress things that are outside of its natural orders and laws. But if a magus of /our/ age were to do the same -- say, perhaps, Merlin -- the effect would be much greater."

"The matter was explained to me, but I confess I know not of such witchcraft. It is beyond my purview, and I do not have reason to know of such." He shakes his head; the gesture is faint, but it's enough to stir that silvery hair. "I am the Marshal of the Realm -- or, I was. Such was not my business to know. Were Merlin here, mayhap he could explain the matter more thoroughly."

Saber (346) has posed:
"She was not always so villainous. Once, she was one of my finest knights. However, I had noticed some of her...ways of thinking which were incompatible for one who would be king. When she approached me, hoping I would acknowledge her as my heir, I refused."

She stifled a sigh. "The larger problem, however, was that she had been created by my half-sister as a mere puppet. She would have to have been freed from Morgana's control before she could be properly trained."

Saber tapped her chin thoughtfully as the subject turned to magic, her eyes flickering to Bedivere once more. "It was a suitable explanation. Perhaps, there are some similarities...the magi of the current era, for example, are incapable of harming me with magic. However, a Servant summoned as a Caster from the era when True Magic existed most certainly could." Experimentally, she lifted her cup to her lips and took an experimental sip. Still too hot. "While magic itself persists, it is far weaker than it had been in my era. Miracle which could change reality -- which had been possible in my era, are now impossible. The only thing capable of such a feat would be the Holy Grail, the last remaining miracle."

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander nods his head, slowly. "Okay... first off, I'm -not- a Mage, and not really qualified to discuss this. -But-..."

He leans forward. "My world, according to the Mages, is -broken-. Once, the world was magical, and anyone who Awakened to their innate potential could perform wondrous miracles. But then, a group of Mages decided to build a ladder up to the Supernal Realms, the source of magic, so that they could control it directly. Then, they -shattered- the ladder, which had the side effect of breaking the world in half - the Supernal Realms floated off and left the Fallen World, which is where humans live now. Ever since then, magic - Supernal Magic, that is - has been harder to do, because the world doesn't recognise it as really existing anymore. Other magic still works, because it's fully part of the Fallen World, but it's not -nearly- as powerful as Supernal Magic."

He looks at his hand. "My magic is... the power of the Underworld, more or less. Power over death."

He grins a bit. "Fun fact: Mages in my world can totally conjure fire. But so can Sin-Eaters. And a Sin-Eater won't be smacked down by reality for doing it."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The marshal folds his arms. He looks like he's wilting a bit in the heat, but he stubbornly refuses to remove that mantled cloak, nor does he seem interested in the tea. Which is probably less a matter of interest, and more a matter of etiquette. Since he's here to stand guard, it would be improper of him to partake.

Right?

...Saber's probably going to have Words with him later about that.

He remains largely silent on the matter of Mordred and Morgana, though his violet eyes flick toward Saber. It's a simple glance to anyone else; to Arturia, it's a look of mild concern. He knows the subject is a sore one, though he's loathe to do any more than simply look her way briefly. He wouldn't speak up in the company of a stranger.

Violet eyes slide back to Alexander. Bedivere doesn't so much as move, though the focus of that gaze suggests he is paying appropriate attention to that conspirational explanation. He does not interrupt, simply waiting until Alexander finishes.

There is a slight stiffening as he reveals that his purview is that of death. He had said as much, but to hear it spoken so plainly is a little bit of a shock. He covers it by shifting his weight again, frowning.

"I do not understand the difference," he murmurs. "But, as I said, such things are not my purview. My training lies in other fields."

Saber (346) has posed:
Saber was definitely going to be having Words with her marshal later. Yes she was.

But at his questioning glance, she spared him one of her own, one that said she would discuss it later. At least now, after Camelot had been lost to them, she was free to open up to her loyal knight. Or...actually, quite a lot.

In spite of her mostly-impassive expression, the King of Knights appeared to be rather interested in the Sin-Eater's story. "Quite an interesting history. Our own world is much more benign; apparently, magic gradually faded over time. It has been theorised that it was the coming of the 'Age of Reason', but what was more likely was simply a natural entropy."

She lifted her cup again, blowing on the contents lightly before another experimental sip. A little better. "However, magic is now hidden, and magi safeguard that secret jealously. The Holy Grail War itself, while creating phenomenon which cannot be easily explained, is conducted in secret. That which becomes exposed to the public is carefully covered up by the Mages' Association."

There was a slight raise of a pale eyebrow. "Power over death itself? Such a thing would constitute a miracle...at least, in our world."

But Mages were even more interesting. "Reality itself?Hm...magi of the current era can achieve such feats as summoning fire, though reality itself does not effect them. However, should they become a threat to the secrecy of the magi, the Association many times...corrects them."

She had certainly seen quite a lot of that in the company of the Tohsaka sisters.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander grins. "They call it 'Paradox'. When Supernal Law and Fallen Law come into conflict, -weird shi-" pause. "Weird stuff happens. I haven't been able to find out exactly what, but... that's what they tell me, anyway."

He rubs the back of his head. "Well, it's not as if I can just kill people with a thought or resurrect the dead or anything. The second thing is -impossible-, actually. The first thing is... a thing really powerful Sin-Eaters can do, I guess. But..."

He hmms. "Death is... it's a sort of energy, I guess you could say? It seeps in when a thing gets injured or damaged somehow. It's physical form is called 'ectoplasm', but it usually comes in more immaterial forms. Have you ever had the shivers while walking through a cemetary? In my world, that's a symptom of your latent psychic abilities picking up a large concentration of death-energy."

"The way Sin-Eaters use death is... archetypal. It's based partially on stories about the things ghosts can do and partially on widespread beliefs about death and common ways people die. Like... Like, a SIn-Eater might use the Pyre-Flame Key, which represents being killed by fire and cremation, and the Rage Manifestation, which represents the pure hostility some ghosts have for the living, and combine them into... well, into setting an enemy on fire."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
For the moment, the Marshal of the Realm remains silent. Violet eyes flick from Saber to Alexander, before finally settling on the king and her cup of tea. He seems to have no noteworthy commentary to offer on the matter of magi and the Mage's Association; his explanations only run so far as to cover the basics of the world, and even then, much of it escapes him.

Shivering while walking through a cemetary?

"I have not," Bedivere states, with a straight face. And it's true! To him, fresh battlefields are imminently more creepy, though that's probably a matter of knowing he could have been one of the casualties at any time. "But I do not make a habit of frequenting cemetaries at night, unless there remains a grave to be dug."

Something flickers across his expression. The last grave he had dug had been an empty cairn for the very woman sitting at the table. He's quick to put it out of mind, though, and the slip of his expression is so subtle it could be missed.

He doesn't say 'I understand,' because he... doesn't.

Saber (346) has posed:
Like Bedivere, she denies the particular 'creepy' feeling, at least passing cemeteries. "No...however, as a Servant I am capable of 'feeling' various energies, so long as they are magical in nature. We are, in essence, beings of pure, refined magic."

Another sip. "Death energy itself is what is considered an element, of sorts...if I understand it correctly," Saber corrected herself. "My understanding of magic is somewhat limited...I am a Saber, not a Caster. My knowledge consists of what was imparted to me by the Holy Grail upon my summoning, as well as the magi I reside with."

Now that /was/ interesting. "Stories, you say? Not unlike Heroic Spirits...our abilities are based on our particular legends, not necessarily what was true in our lifetimes. Upon death, as a hero is remembered in lore and celebrated over the ages, the Heroic Spirit gains specific abilities when he is summoned as a Servant. The concepts of the weapons he bore become Noble Phantasms, conceptual weapons not entirely unlike the Abstractums. They represent ideas themselves, crystallizations of the legends of those who wield them."

She paused for a moment before she continued with some more specific knowledge. "I, however, remain the lone exception. Unlike other Servants, I did not die before becoming a Servant. In my own time, I am still alive, and hence I am alive as a Servant. I have but two Noble Phantasms, as a result, one of which is Excalibur, which remains in my physical possession."

Now it was Bedivere's turn to have a concerned glance thrown his way. She knew her death had been perhaps the most painful memory he possessed, and she went out of her way to avoid mentioning it as much as possible.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander tilts his head. "...Huh. Being dead gives other Servants more Memen- er, Noble Phantasms? ... The word 'phantasm' there is particularly striking..."

He mmmhs a little bit. "From what I understand, the Underworld is shaped by the ideas of the living. Or... more specifically, of the new-dead. Which is why it's so much harder to use death magic to control a computer than it is to use it to control, say, a suit of plate armour. Not many people who understand computers as a -concept- are dead, yet. In the grand scheme of things."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Where he had allowed a little concern to seep into his gaze, nothing shows in Bedivere's face now. His expression could well be hewn from stone; violet eyes flat and staring straight ahead when Saber turns her own concerned look on him. The mask is fully in place again, may it serve him well. Until they're alone, there will be no reaching him through that.

For Saber, it's likely a fair bet that bringing that subject /is/ alike to ripping open a still-raw wound. What else would seem to invite that mask so wholly?

Bedivere remains silent, for the time being, though; he has nothing to say about the matter of magic. It isn't something he's familiar with, nor skilled with, though the mention of controlling a suit of plate armour brings something near his right eye to twitch.

Maybe Saber might catch that subtle expression.

'What. Don't even think about it.'

Saber (346) has posed:
"It would seem that in spite of a great many differences, both our universes deal in concepts as magic, it would seem," Saber observed. "Especially those which requite time to mature."

Magic might not have been her forte, but the petite blonde was more than happy to indulge her curiosity now that she could. In Camelot, she had been effectively trapped playing the part of the fair but distant king. Such curiosity would have exposed the girl behind the mask too much.

Bedivere's mask told his king what she needed to know, even without words. Similarly, she concealed her own worry, though he knew her well enough to know she was masking it. That was simply one more reason she had chosen the silver-haired knight as her marshal, and she had never regretted the decision. Particularly after he had stumbled upon the multiverse.

And she certainly caught that expression. "A demonstration is not necessary, however," she commented, holding up a hand as if to ward off a potential indignity to her knight. "Though complex, I believe that I am beginning to understand."

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander looks playfully disappointed at the lack of chance to demonstrate. So he instead picks up his tea, finally taking a sip. "Mmh. Lukewarm tea. Reminds me of school," he says, with a bit of a laugh. "Not a patch on iced tea, but okay for that tea-tastic taste when you don't want to overheat..."

He continues to either not notice the two glancing at each other, or refuses to let it show he's noticed. Whichever. "I'm not really that good at magic," he admits, with a shrug. "I rely on the Weeping Bride, mostly. I only know two rituals that she can't help me with, and they're both -really- simple."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Aside from that brief glance, the marshal's expression is a mask of stoicism. He gives nothing away regarding the matter of Arturia's death; his eyes pull away from the gathering at the table, settling on the road once more.

In some ways, his mask is more of a giveaway than simply revealing himself -- to her, at least.

Bedivere turns slightly, regarding the road impassively. Thus far, nothing seems to have any interest in joining them, and thus far there has been no trouble to plague them. Certainly there's no sign of that troublesome nogitsune. Half of him had expected her to show up. It seems to be his kind of luck.

"What rituals are those?" That soft voice sounds again, though this time there's a flatness to the tone that suggests he's still attempting to stuff old emotional scars into a neat little bottle. (To Arturia, at least. Maybe Alexandar just thinks he's kind of weird. Or maybe the Sin-Eater is more intuitive than he lets on.)

Saber (346) has posed:
A new concept appears!

"Iced tea?" Saber queried, tilting her head slightly with a different sort of curiosity. It might have been a strange thing, that she had been in the multiverse for so long and yet managed to avoid the idea. But then, there was a lot to learn, even after four years.

The Servant 'hmed' softly, thinking back to the radio. "I recall that you had mentioned the Weeping Bride before, that she was your Keystone. The soul that is bound to yours, I believe?"

The mask certainly did convey everything to Bedivere's liege. Even if they had been alone, she would have been reluctant to ask, given the nature of that wound. Instead, she did not even so much as glance questioningly as he continued to monitor the road...though that in part was due to her own reluctance to be surprised by the said nogitsune.

Poor Bedivere. She'd pat his hand if they didn't have decorum to think about. "These rituals...are they a part of your work in helping spirits to pass on?"

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
"Yeah, it -sounds- weird, but trust me, iced tea is the shi-" Pause. "Uh. The... bomb?" Dot dot do.

"Oh, no, no, my Keystone is the Red Dawn." Suddenly, wakizashi in one hand! The blade is soon surrounded by a faint red haze, as -blood- begins to -sublimate off the blade-. "This thing." And it's soon gone again! The blood-haze fades after a few more moments. "The Weeping Bride is my Geist. Which is like a... a super-ghost. She's not visible to most people, but she can be -heard-. If she deigns to speak."

Pause. Paauuse. "...Which she isn't doing right now. OKAY. But, yeah, she's... basically the source of my power? We made a deal, you see. In return for staving off my death, she gets to ride around in my soul, vicariously experiencing life again."

"Ah... well, Finding is useful for helping out ghosts, I guess. It's used to, well, find people. But mostly helping a ghost pass on just requires research and a lotta legwork."

"The other ceremony is called 'Mending the Mortal Coil'. It's for healing. Basically, it involves tearing death OUT of someone, and involves alcohol and screaming at whatever death god or spirit or whatever seems appropriate at the time." He grins. "...It's a bit of a bodge job, really. But hey, it works."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Although the marshal doesn't seem to have much commentary to offer, he's definitely listening. He can do this while he keeps his attention on the road. Maybe the other two might be content to have a chat and a cup of tea, but he's not trusting enough to actually relax out in the open like this. It's neutral ground. That means unpleasantness could show up at any moment.

His eyes reluctantly leave his vigil of the road, though, as Alexander answers his question.

In what is doubtless the very alarmingly short amount of time it takes for Alexander to materialise his sword, there is the sharp /snick/ of a blade being drawn. There is very suddenly a sword of steel pointing at Alexandar, sun gleaming off the cutting edge, and a plated-mail gauntlet gripping the hilt. That cutting edge is very, very sharp. It remains absolutely still, and does not so much as waver.

Before he can say anything, the sword vanishes. And without dignifying his alarmed response with a word (at least not yet), Bedivere slowly and deliberately reverses his grip on his sword, returning it to the scabbard at his hip. And it was definitely alarmed. The blood seems to have drained from his face, for the Sin-Eater to have bared a weapon in Arturia's personal space so /quickly/.

Maybe Saber might notice he looks a little shaken. Sure, Alexander was explaining the thing, but he doesn't take well to being spooked like that. Also, he considers himself personally responsible for Saber's protection (even if she hardly needs it, as a Servant). The way he exhales softly, just barely on the verge of unsteady, seems to imply an unspoken 'don't do that again.'

Still a little rattled, he focuses his attention on the explanation so graciously provided to him. And maybe he feels a little bad for baring live steel. Alexander /is/ a guest, of a sort, even if this is not truly the knight or king's territory. The Laws of Hospitality are very serious matters.

A little more of the blood drains from the stoic marshal's face, even though his expression remaisn absolutely impassive.

"I see." Neither does his voice betray his distress. "Thank you for answering my questions. And greetings to you, Weeping Bride, if you are indeed able to hear our voices. I apologise for my rudeness." Violet eyes flick back to Alexander. "Please do not bare weapons in the presence of the king again. I am responsible for her protection. If you intend to call forth such a weapon again, please inform me, prior."

He tilts his head faintly at the phrase 'bodge job,' but doesn't ask about it. "Interesting. So, then, you help these spirits 'pass on.' For what reason? That you might help those who can no longer help themselves? That is most admirable, if so."

Saber (346) has posed:
A curious expression, that. It would be nice if Mordred curbed her own language like that. But then, the Saber in red didn't seem to have much of a respect for anything. "Hm," she replied with a slight smile. "I believe I understand." Her own attention was focused on the conversation, but her senses remained alert, as always. Bedivere had to rely on his human senses, but Saber could merely keep her magic-based senses open, particularly for other Servants.

She did not so much as even blink at the sudden appearance of the wakazashi, merely curious. Almost as if she was used to weapons appearing out of aether. But before she had the chance to comment, Bedivere had already sprung into action so quickly even a Servant might have been caught off-guard. Though mortal, he was nevertheless one of her finest knights among a cadre of Camelot's finest. That was his duty: protect the king. And he performed it flawlessly. The problem was that this was the multiverse, and such things were typically frowned upon when one was dealing with allies.

Fortunately, the knight sheathed his sword as the wakazashi disappeared, and a slight glance flickered to her knight, betraying her concern to him,. But she turned back to the Sin-Eater a moment later. "Ah, not entirely unlike a Noble Phantasm, it would seem," she offered diplomatically, almost as a distraction from how shaken Bedivere was.

She needn't have worried; he handled himself well enough. Not that she was going to stop worrying; she was just a worrier by nature.

"An interesting way of healing," she replied. "I have heard stories of what is perhaps similar, though they are simply rumours, I fear."

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander doesn't... really react to getting a sword pointed at him. He does give Sir Bedivere a side-long look for a moment, but then turns back to Artorias. "...So, you say most Heroic Spirits have to die before they, you know, get all Heroic Spirity? That's kinda the same for Sin-Eaters. We die - our hearts stop, brain activity ceases... but before the soul leaves or whatever it is, we're visited by a Geist. If we agree to the Bargain, they remove all the death from our bodies, and we heal and come back to life. If we don't... well, you can probably guess."

He smiles. "So... basically, the only thing that can kill me is old age. So stab me all you want, big guy. Sorry for startling you."

Despite his apparent bravado, though, Saber may - if her metaphysical senses allow - detect that Alexander is now surrounded by... -something-. Something that seems rather protective. Or possibly shieldy.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The firm set to Bedivere's jaw suggests he's already quite unhappy with himself for reacting so thoughtlessly. And so impolitely. Such was a violation of the Laws of Hospitality, and even though they were older than the Christianity that Camelot had come to embrace, they are sacrosanct.

He doesn't answer Saber. Something in his expression tightens subtly at being called 'big guy,' but he doesn't seem inclined to grace that with a response.

In fact, he remains utterly silent, and still a little pale -- perhaps not because he views Alexander as a threat, but for his own misconduct. The Sin-Eater /is/ an ally, after all, and that he startled the marshal pretty badly is no excuse.

Violet eyes turn out to the road. That's a safe thing to focus on. Also a worthy one! Even if it is highly probable there is nothing suspicious whatsoever on that road.

Saber (346) has posed:
"That is correct," Saber replied with a nod. "In some sense, we could be called 'ghosts'; we are spirit beings in temporary bodies fashioned from pure magical energy. Even then, Servants are also capable of dissipating that form and becoming pure spirit." A sip of tea, then she added, "However, as I am alive, I cannot dissipate my form in such a way. My body is more permanent; while I am not human, neither am I completely spirit."

Her voice seemed to become even more quiet, subdued. "But my tale is not unlike yours, it would seem..."

Again she glanced at Bedivere. Had he not been present, she might have considered sharing her tale, but she remained reluctant to reopen the wounds.

Saber frowned slightly, sensing the protective presence suddenly around Alexander. "So it is magic, at least, to some extent," she noted mildly.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander gives Saber a confused look for a moment, then looks down at himself. "...Oh! Uh. Yeah. I've got a Shroud active. It'll go away in... like, an hour." Shrug! "It's the Industrial Shroud, so it's totally defensive, at least. Don't worry about it." He chuckles nervously. "The Weeping Bride gets spooked sometimes, and considering manifestations are basically HER doing..."

"NOBODY harms my host." comes a sudden voice, from... vaguely Alexander's direction. It's... hissing, and reverberates strangely. It's also speaking archaic Japanese, although that doesn't matter due to the Translation Effect.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
If there's any reaction from the marshal, he gives nothing away beyond how stony his expression becomes. He is no doubt chastising himself for his misconduct; and the king is once again speaking of a wound he would rather not see fresh blood from.

Bedivere glances to Saber at about the same time she looks to him, and though his expression never changes, it's a simple enough demonstration. Speak what you will, my king; it is not my place to prevent it. It is no pain I have not borne before.

His eyes drift away, then, back to the road. Even he seems to sense something strange, though, and he finds himself regarding Alexander from the corner of that violet gaze. As before, his expression never quite changes, but there is a curiosity in the way he allows himself to look more directly--

Oh. Hello, freaky supernatural entity.

Bedivere turns stiffly to face Alexander's general direction when that voice hisses from thin air.

"I offer my sincerest apologies for my misconduct. It was not my intention to harm... your host. I was merely startled; I take my king's personal safety with the utmost seriousness." He straightens, regarding a point somewhere behind Alexandar. He can't see the Weeping Bride, nor sense her beyond a vague sense of wrongness, so he's left with staring into space. His gaze soon drops, though, head bowing slightly. The rest of him follows, bowing stiffly with one hand tucked over his stomach, in highly formal style. "In drawing my sword, even if such was not my intent, I have violated the Laws of Hospitality, as you too are a guest in this place. Please accept my humblest of apologies for such gross misconduct."

He'll stay bowed until his apologies are accepted. Or Saber indicates to him to stop being a hidebound idiot and stand up straight. In so many words, anyway.

Saber (346) has posed:
"We each have our protectors," the Servant replied with a slight smile. One might even say it contained a hint of...fondness? A magical being of legend might not necessarily need protection, but some bonds were not changed very easily.

At the meaningful glance, she shook her head slightly. /No,/ her gaze spoke, /I shall not speak of such in your presence./

We spoken swords, however, were altogether different. "Sir Bedivere, it as all right. You may resume your duties," she reassured him, indicating the road with a glance. It might have seemed rude or even simply dismissive, but Arturia understood that he sometimes took some comfort in duty. After all, she was the exact same way.

Likewise, it seemed the Industrial Shoud needed some mollification. "My lady, if you please. This man is also my protector, as you are to your host. He shall not attack without my direct order."

Again, perhaps cold to anyone else, but knight and king were, once upon a time, an elite combat unit without even the need of spoken communication to telegraph their tactics to one another in heated combat.

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
"Don't worry about it, dude. The Bride... well, she doesn't forgive you, but she's a jerk, so feel free to ignore her." Alexander grins brilliantly, waving his hand in a way that seems to imply brushing aside something. Probably the issue. Probably not Bedivere.

"I, uh. Manifestations - like the Industrial Shroud- can't really be turned off, unless they require mental exertion. They just -happen-, and then stop happening after a while. It's like firing a gun. You can't -take back- the bullet."

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
At the mention of protectors, Bedivere remains markedly silent. Although it was expected of him to act as the king's bodyguard, it seems he's applied himself to this duty all the more in deadly earnest in the Multiverse.

Violet eyes linger on the king when she bids him to return to his duties, as though momentarily uncertain, but he consents to turn his back on the gathering, watching the roads. If the gesture is dismissive or rude, he gives no indication of it. Indeed, he seems relieved, lending weight to that theory.

He does keep himself turned so he can still watch from the corner of an eye, though. The movement is slow enough that it might be missed, but he gives a faint inclination of his head in acknowledgement when Alexander gives his explanations.

Right, then. Gonna ignore the creepy spiritual supernatural thing that makes his skin crawl, because acknowledging her probably won't do anything but piss her off more.

Honestly, he feels kind of terrible about that. As a knight of King Arturia's retinue, he should have better behaviour than that. He should be an exemplification of chivalry; not a frothing guard dog just this side of rabid. Still, what a strange attitude he would take towards his protector--

"That seems a curiously disrespectful attitude to take toward one's protector," Bedivere points out, in that soft voice of his. Pot, kettle; considering the exchange between marshal and king. "Ah, I apologise," he sighs. "I should not speak so forwardly. Forgive me my rudeness; perhaps I am missing details?"

Saber (346) has posed:
It /was/ a rather strange way to refer to a protector, Saber had to admit, blinking in surprise. "I...see..."

Not that she really did. But to be fair, her own relationship with hers was rather unusual, in itself. Fortunately, Bedivere seemed all too relieved to be redirected, which had been the whole point. her protector he might have been, but she had taken it upon herself to be his...in certain ways.

Unlike the previous ones, the idea of the Manifestation didn't appear to have any sort of equivalent that she could remember. "There are certain phenomenon which similarly cannot merely be dismissed," she observed. "However, this would appear to be quite another matter..."

Another sidelong glance to her knight. Yes, she was certainly going to have a Talk with him later out of the way of certain prying eyes and ears who may or may not have spiritual links to the Servant...

Alexander Grey (225) has posed:
Alexander waves his hand dismissively again. "She's the closest person to me in my life. Like, literally. We insult each other all the time. Don't you have any friends you volley insults with?" He grins, as he stands up. "But with that... I really must be going. It was good to meet you." He bows to Saber, again. "Your Majesty. Sir knight." And so he turns to head off.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
If he notices the sidelong glance from the king, the knight does not comment on it or return it. no doubt he did notice it, though. Of the Round Table, his perceptions were always sharpest; they had to be, to carry out his duties.

That explanation, though, brings Bedivere to blink somewhat owlishly.

"Volley insults?" And for a brief instant he almost -- /almost/ -- looks horrified. "I would behave in no such manner before the king."

O, Horrors, no.

"The honour was ours, Sir Grey." Bedivere again inclines forward in that low, formal bow, perhaps still feeling a little remorseful over his reaction to being startled. "God keep you."

He straightens, stoic, though violet eyes flicker back to Saber, briefly.

Saber (346) has posed:
"Hm....I think perhaps I know something of which you speak. My Master's sister does so quite often with her protector." Yes, Rin's multiverse-famous tsundere.

She stood then to see the Sin-Eater off. "And you as well. God keep you."

One last glance down the road, and then back to her faithful marshal. But instead of a stoic mask, something of a smile passed over her face. Yet, she did not speak. As always, there was no need to.