Scene #3154: The Demand of RhuDD-a G4R

Owner	Pose
Project MORDRED	As the Challenged, MORDRED was given the right to choose a location. He has chosen a place outside his own solar system, an Earth he is not exiled from. The Australian Outback of a post-apocalyptic Earth. The place is abandoned and desolate, but livable, and perfectly suited for combat. A warpgate is nearby, and he's shared the location of choice with those allies and friends who responded to his summons before letting the overwhelmingly sized RhuDD-A G4R know the chosen location. MORDRED is standing atop a hill, inside the Armour of Peace, with Glare-NT's mechanical hand atop the hilt of a Monofilament Broadsword. "Remember." He reminds, "Do not break the sanctity of this duel, when he chooses to break it you are free to join the fight, but I am not going to besmirch my honour by striking first." In the distance, a large humanoid robot descends from Orbit. When accounting for distance, it appears to be at least fifty feet tall. Other metallic objects follow behind.
Saber	When the Servant appeared, it was not entirely clear whether or not she intended to participate. Arriving via warpgate on the Yamaha V-Max customarily used when super-leaping across landscapes was impractical, Saber was likewise dressed in her usual civilian attire of a three-piece suit. It seemed an odd choice given the landscape; she had a feeling that, had she still been Sakura's Servant, the magus would have tried to persuade her to don a leather jacket. Yet, all things being equal, the little blonde was likely going to summon her battle armour, regardless...if only for appearances. Bringing the motorbike to a halt a safe distance from the battlefield -- she had already made the mistake of parking it too close to one once before -- Saber dismounted smoothly in spite of her diminutive size, straightening her gloves as she made her way to the outer ring. It took far less time to get there than someone her size should have been able to. Clasping her hands behind her back, she made no move to join the duel just yet. Instead, she waited, as per their similar customs, her face in a characteristic neutral default expression.
Fake Avenger	The world twitches at his presence. Even here, he is unwelcome. The wandering swordsman is rejected by all places and times, for his presence is not desired, even by a place as ruined as this. The air seems to twitch unpleasantly around him, his tattoos/scars/strange wriggling black marks unable to sit still even though Kojirou himself is utterly unmoving. He's eerily unmoving, in fact - the swordsman draws almost no breath. His eyes remain closed. He doesn't blink. He doesn't speak. Were it not for the air around him, the very space thrashing in his presence like a wounded animal around a bullet, Kojirou would almost be mistaken for a statue. Granted, a very lifelike, eerily-beautiful statue, but a statue nonetheless. Caster of Brown does not appear to be with him today. The Command Spells on his arm pulse with red glory, as though they, like the tattoos, cannot wait to escape him. He's dressed in a sleek lavendar tuxedo which is most assuredly magical, with a tie that matches the ribbon in his hair sitting unsuitably around his neck, untied. Slung over his shoulder is Monohoshi Zao, the massive blade; hanging at his waist is Banda, the cane of Caster of Brown. He seems serene, at peace, even...disinterested in the massive metal figures descending from on high. You're really excited about this, eh, Kojirou-kun? Kojirou's distant, serene smile does not change. He gives a light shrug. You can't fool me, you know. I can always tell when you're ready for some fun. You're going to kill them all without mercy no matter what happens, huh? Blood and guts and oil and steel, flashing blades and burning brands, the fires of war and the heartbeat of the drums. That's where you live, Kojirou-kun. "Maybe it is," Kojirou says to thin air - and to everyone around him, nothing at all. Heh heh. You keep that cool attitude, Kojirou-kun. Let's see how many more curses it'll take before you can't walk any further. Kojirou shrugs again. "If you wish," he says - though whether he's speaking to thin air or MORDRED is impossible to say, "It makes no difference to me."
Emiya Shirou	Why exactly is Shirou here? For only one reason. An ally - however distant or strange - has asked for it. Even if it's an incarnation of the traitor knight, this Mordred hasn't DONE that sort of thing yet right? ... well even if they have, Dun Realtai is unusually forgiving. So, really... The reason he's come out is because of Dun Realtai and Saber, not much else. And this time he's chosen to wear the wonderfully articulated plate mail that SANTA CLAUS of all people gave him. It's gleaming in the Australian evening but thankfully he hasn't put the helmet on. instead it's held under an arm. it's taken several months for him to get used to wearing this stuff to even a moderatee degree. That it's best donned with help hasn't filled him with any love of it either - if he can't just walk around freely in it without all the weirdness, is it really that good? The outfit of a certain Archer - flexible polymers and lightweight cloth bolstered by magic - is more is style. But, roughly knowing WHY he feels that way, he's... apparently put this stuff on instead. Why? He's not really sure. But he's here. "Yeah. Don't worry, I won't do anything like that-- AAAAT?!" A freaky nearby presence catches Shirou's attention. His head swerves and he's very soon focused on the nearby CORRUPTED SWORDSMAN. He stumbles backwards a few steps, triggering a CLUNK CLUNK CLATTER and quite a flaily yell from the boy. WHAM-WHUNK. He's quickly on his ass. And biting down a curse under his breath. But he shoves up to his feet with more ease than many an ordinary knight might've for his age, and makes a troubled face.
Project MORDRED	Once the giant lands, MORDRED steps forward. He doesn't look back to his gathered allies, and merely raises his blade in greeting. "RhuDD-a G4R, you have challenged me to a duel, and I have accepted. This is to be the site of battle, may the best Knight win. I am ready." As though a trigger was spoken, the massive robot lets out a bellowing laugh and instructs the three smaller but still large robots that came with him, at thirty feet they're only twice Glare-NT's size. "Take his faceplate, kill him if you have to." MORDRED deflects the first strike as the four go for him all at once, each of them wielding melee weapons. RhuDD-a G4R has a monofilament battleaxe while his minions come bearing chainsword, plasma mace and monofilament glaive respectively. It's clear this fight is unfair, "You would defile the sanctity of our duel?" MORDRED asks, his voice signaling that the duel no longer is a duel.
Saber	Though ignorant of Angra Mainyu's whispers in the Avenger's mind, Saber's otherwise passive mask shifted subtly, becoming like ice, hard and cold. Sea-green eyes bored into Kojirou, staring at him with a newfound intensity. Now that she had some idea of what he might possibly be, the pre-existing alarm over what he had done to her marshal had elevated even further. Fortunately, Shirou was able to break her stare away from Kojirou by doing what he did best. Flipping out. Not that the group had much time to ponder the strange Servant's presence. It was only a split second before the suit was replaced by her battle armour, the invisible Excalibur in her hands. "It would appear that this is to be a battle, then," she observed with a strange sort of calm. "So be it."
Fake Avenger	Kojirou doesn't glance at Shirou and Saber, but there's certainly a sense that he's watching them nonetheless - though it seems less malicious and more simply...curious. Or reflexive. Like he just can't help knowing what's around him, even with his eyes closed. He simply stands and waits as the giant proves that, yes, honor is a concept for other people. Well. That was nice of him. Kojirou might actually get to fight this time. But he's not going for the sword yet. In defiance of all logic Kojirou flips out the Banda, the skull-tipped cane of Baron Samedi, and holds it in front of him like a wakizashi. Kojirou steps forward into the middle of the melee without hesitation, without a second thought, without fear or pain or any expression on his face beyond that alien contentment. He murmurs something under his breath, and the Magic Crest surges with power - palpable, and horrible, power, power that Saber and Shirou can feel without even a second thought, a well of power so deep and so dark it could be the very bottom of the ocean. The power shoots up the cane and wraps around it, hardening the weapon into something near-unbreakable. A second breath, and the same well of power flares, and black, oozing mud drips from the cane in the unnatural Servant's hands. Kojirou brings the cane into the the path of the chainsword without a second thought. The fight probably looks wildly unfair at first blush, until one gets a look at Kojirou's face - at the open eyes, the almost-eager smile, and the edge in his voice that sounds almost like hope. "Are you strong?" It's probably laughable to the knights in their vast machinery, but the note of hope in Kojirou's voice is unmistakable. This is what he longs for. This is why he exists. He flicks the chainsword to the side. It comes down with a massive wham, digging into the dirt and kicking up a storm of dust and misery. Kojirou vanishes into the cloud. When he emerges it is in the process of doing the impossible. Kojirou lands with inhuman grace upon one of the individual teeth of the chainsword. He walks up it, spinning the mud-dripping Banda in one hand as his impossible agility and superhuman poise guide his feet. To anyone else, it appears Kojirou is walking on a chainsaw. To Kojirou, it is like going up an escalator. His feet go with the flow rather than fighting it, working with the chainsword's momentum in order to scale the robot without trouble. He gets to the end of the sword and hops up onto its shoulder. The skull-end of the Banda points at the mech's helmet with a peaceful, placid smile. It might be like looking at the end of a knife, though the cane is clearly blunt. "Are you strong?" He repeats, a hint of anxiety slipping into his voice. "Are you worthy of my skill?"
Emiya Shirou	shirou was EXPECTING some dramatic yelling and boasting and chest-puffing between MORDRED and his opponent. But that isn't what happens. The quick shift from what should be a duel to, instead, an undignified debacle leaves him frowning. At heart, Shirou is no chivalrous knight. He does not expect opponents to fight fair, values life above pride or honor, and has no interest in either glory or fame. But a part of him would at least like to believe there is value in sticking to your words. He can respect the pride that Knights hold and hold theirs in regard, even if he cares nothing for his own. So seeing MORDRED being so callously assaulted triggers a balking yell from him. "What-- those guys, what are they HERe for if not a duel?! Trace, on!" It won't do any good, he realizes, to send any amount of Noble Phantasms flying at giants and mecha. Even the legendary Excalibur is nothing but a toothpick if it can only stab a tiny place on these things. He doesn't have the prana to use the weapons to their full potential, even if he could replicate them... But there are other weapons here that are more suited to the situation. Can he do that though? Shirou extends a hand, anger boiling up as prana sizzles to action. Grunting and straining, Shirou raises a gauntleted fist... and fills the air with bolts of prana! The bolts strike absolutely NOTHING though... freezing in midair and filling out as if poured into invisible molds. Enormous shapes form in a matter of seconds, one blipping into existence after another. The massive Chainsword, the Monofilament Great Axe, and even several copies of Project MORDRED's own Monofilament Broadsword. All at their full scale without seemingly any more effort than a normal sized weapon would be. A quartet of strangely eroded, half-there blades also hover in the group... those wielded by the Four Kings of Lordran, fallen Servants of Gwyn. ALL these weapons re-orient in the air, points all converging at one of the Giant's minions... "UUUAH!" And with a gesture, Shirou sends them ALl flying down to impale the robot!
Project MORDRED	With backup acting to turn this disgrace into a proper melee, the fight becomes more even. Kojirou walks atop the massive Armour(?)'s chainsword, and points an object the face. "You are pathetic." The voice comes from inside, a voice so filled with contempt that it shows he has no clue what he's dealing with. A free hand tries to punch the Fake Avenger in the face. Another minion, the one with the plasma mace, gets speared by several swords. It roots it in place, but does not kill, nor limit the motion of the hand. The mace is set to a different mode, and the weapon sends a blast of superheated hydrogen plasma flying, aimed for Emiya Shirou. The last one does not delay in assuming Saber plans to fight, and jumps forward, his monofilament glaive barelling down on her. MORDRED finally deflects the giant Armour's axe, and though smaller he is the more mobile, and he immediately uses his mobility to strike at one of the thrusters of the giant, destroying it as he seeks to further decrease its mobility. In return, RhuDD-a throws a fist into Glare-NT's chest, a crunching sound shows it had a meaningful impact, and MORDRED is sent flying back. "Oof."
Saber	Holding back long enough for RhuDD-a G4R's robotic minion to close the gap, Saber bent low into her knees, dropping into her en garde stance with Excalibur gripped at an angle behind her. It might have seemed comical; a little girl in strange armour, readying to take on hulking machines of war? Had they laughed, they would not be laughing for very long when she seemed to...disappear. The naked eye was simply unable to move that fast, while instruments would read that the tiny knight was moving at least as fast as one of their own. Combined with Kojirou's equally-impossible strength and speed, it would soon become clear that the two were no mere mortals. Even as the monofilament glaive descended upon her, it struck only the empty space she had been. 180 degree sensors would fail to indicate where she had gone...until it focused upward. Saber somersaulted twice, using the torque of her spin to add power to her downward-focused blow.
Gawain	Since Sir Gawain's motorcycle blew up, he's been a lot slower getting from place to place. So, to get to the battleground, he had to go as fast as possible, taking as few warpgates as he could! Those with good hearing will likely hear him coming, the sounds of wheels moving faster than they should. Those with magical senses will additionally sense a huge ball of prana coming straight there way. Riding his bicycle, Gringolet III, the knight is already fulled clad in armor, his sword drawn and resting in his right hand. He beelines straight for RhuDD-a as he sees MORDRED fly back, and lifts his blade into the air, as he shouts out. "Breaking the sacred laws of the duel is one of the highest dishonors! You will pay for your crimes! I am Sir Gawain, Knight of Dun Realtai!" And then, with a kick of his legs, he's leaping straight off the bike, turning it to the side to slide away harmlessly, as he goes up and then back down, coming blade-first towards RhuDD-a. "MORDRED! Are you alright?!"
Emiya Shirou	Retaliation was thankfully expected! And Shirou's still outstretched hand was already channeling his best defense ahead of time. he's needed it often enough these days! "Rho Aias!" Bright mauve power flows outwards, blooming like a brilliant mystical flower into the greatest of defenses. Four petals in place of the seven that should be there spread out and project a series of barriers. The plasma bolts slam into the shield and shatter two of the flimsy layers, the sheer FORCE of it alone enough to send Shirou's whole body wobbling back over the ground. What Rho Aias cannot stop though is the shockwave caused by superheated gases superheating MORE gases right in front of him. The secondary explosion tears through another layer of Rho Aias and makes the air UNBEARABLY hot, scorching Shirou's lungs and forcing him to the ground, choking for breath.
Fake Avenger	The anxiety in Kojirou's face - the joy, the delight, the eagerness that bleeds through even his serenity - vanishes in an instant at the words. The words of an arrogant thug and nothing more. The words of something unworthy of his blade and his time. Kojirou's apathy asserts itself brutally as, in the back of his mind, the mocking laughter of Angra Mainyu rings. His stance relaxes, his arms sag, and for a moment, Kojirou legitimately looks sad. He doesn't attempt to dodge, or block. The massive fist collides with him, sending him spiralling off the mech. He hits the dirt and rolls, rolls, rolls down hill, trailing black, goopy ichor. Kojirou continues to roll, his tuxedo picking up no stains (it is clearly not a normal tuxedo) until he stops against an upturned rock. Kojirou's trail of blood is pretty intense. He looks crumpled against the rock, like his spine was broken. His neck is bent backwards in a really hideous manner, presumably from the impact. He actually looks kinda dead for a moment, but he's still breathing. Kojirou lies there. Oh, what, were you expecting someone like that to be a good fight? Ha ha ha. That's too funny! Too funny, Kojirou-kun! You should've known better! You have nobody but yourself to blame. Anyone strong wouldn't've come en masse. Anyone STRONG wouldn't've come with more than one person, you dumb samurai. Kojirou lies there in silence. You might as well just do it. Just flip out and murder them. You know you want to. They're not worthy of you. They're not worthy of anything. They're useless. Useless useless useless USELESS USELESS! Kojirou remains lying there. Tsk. You're so...boring. Get up and do something! Even if you can't enjoy that fight! Punish them for being useless! A sigh escapes Kojirou's bloody lips. The Servant slowly pulls himself to his feet, wobbling like a doll with a shattered spine. The tattoos around him pulse and thrum with sick, delighted, and obvious glee as Kojirou cracks his neck back into place. "Reinforcement." There's that pulse of overwhelming, black energy again. It runs up and down Kojirou's arms and legs, crawling along his face, glowing in stark contrast just underneath his tattoos. He starts walking back up the hill with a terrible slowness, like he's hiking. There's no dramatic speech, no loud declaration. There's merely...Kojirou, walking, slowly, a look of great disappointment, sorrow, and distance etched on his beautiful (and also horribly bloody) face. And then the tattoos twist around as Kojirou's lips form the words. "Mad Enhancement." Without warning, Kojirou's killing instinct vanishes. Saber and Gawain - experienced swordsmen, who have surely faced death time and time again directed right at them - can feel nothing. His emotions vanish. His feelings vanish. His desire to kill vanishes. His swordsman's spirit vanishes. And then there's a noise.
Fake Avenger	The noise is Kojirou breaking the sound barrier. It is a catastrophic BOOM, a shocking noise that shakes the land around him as he moves, a lavender-blue blur. Where he was a moment ago is now simply a torn-apart crater, left behind from his movements. He comes to a halt instantly beside the machine with the chainsword. His fingers reach for the mech's hand, strong enough to dig into the metal and leave marks. Lucky, if it leaves marks! Kojirou is strong enough to tear steel. He's strong enough to shred titanium. His fingers close, the dead-eyed, silent gaze of Kojirou Sasaki unseeing, unthinking, unfeeling as he moves to tear the arm apart and take the chainsword for his own. Kojirou no longer registers anything except that he is unarmed and his opponent isn't. Therefore, he must rectify the situation. With excessive force. In the back of his mind is a blood-red laughter.
Project MORDRED	Fake Avenger obliterates his opponent, it's no contest. Truly this thug was unworthy of his attention, what's left of the broken and battered machine shows no sign of any Knight inside. Only the head remains intact, and it's too small to contain a Knight. And yet, it speaks. "Mother is watching you, M--" And then the voice dies. Saber manages to cleave one of her opponent's arms right off. The weapon dropped, but even so it was not a lack of perception that stopped him from evading the blow. Indeed, his eyes followed the motion as swiftly as it went, perception far superior to any human perception. "You are fast, little girl, and strong. I give you that." There's a verbal sneering in his voice, "You remind me of someone, but I don't know who." And then he starts firing rapidfire plasma from his eyes, aiming for Saber. Those eyes still don't have any trouble keeping up with her. The one that just shot at Shirou deems him unworthy of more attention, instead he answer Sir Gawain, firing another one of those plasma blasts towards him. "If it wasn't for Honour, we would already have lost. Please stick to it, it makes things so much easier." The tone is mocking, even though he appears to face death. Notably, all three minions speak with the exact same voice, and it seems MORDRED knows why. "RhuDD-a G4R, I should've known what you were from your name. I will not kill you today, but I will take your faceplate." He flies towards him, his blade cutting deep into the side of the Giant's faceplate, cutting it loose from one side. In return, he gets another punch, and is thrown back another time. "Your war is with my father, not with me."
Saber	It was a testament to the spacefarer's superiour technology that their instruments were able to keep up with the tiny Servant. "Impressive," she remarked off-handedly. "But it is most unfortunate you have abandoned chivalry. A knight is not a knight without it." That might have clued him in a little about her similarities. Though her speed remained impressive, one of the plasma 'bullets' grazed her shoulder, searing the flesh painfully. Gritting her teeth, Saber dashed to the side to outrun them before making a 90 degree turn, almost sliding forward with an upward arc of Excalibur, aiming to sever one of the mecha's 'legs'. Yet, there was more on the battlefield. Saber felt rather than heard the invocation of a Mad Enhancement, something which by all rights should have been impossible. Kojirou was an Avenger, and that double-edged sword was unique to the Berserker class. "What...?" Her shock, however, had only just begun. Saber-class Servants were prized for their overall good stats, but especially for their speed; only the Rider class bypassed them at the expense of less raw power. Among them, Arturia Pendragon excelled even further. Yet, even she was incapable of exceeding the speed of sound unless her Master committed a Command Seal to the feat. "That...it should not be possible," she breathed, nearly distracting her from the fight at hand.
Fake Avenger	The berserking Kojirou registers that he's slain his opponent. With inhuman strength, he raises the chainsword, shouldering it. It is a sword. He recognizes it as a sword. It is therefore something he can wield. The mech-sized sword is not much of an impediment to Kojirou. He flicks it outwards with both hands, testing the weight of the new weapon reflexively despite his Mad Enhancement. It was the first thing you did with a new weapon. The second thing was to blood it. A sword was a tool to kill people with. You used a sword to practice the art of killing. The tattoos thrash. Kojirou drops out of Mad Enhancement. He stabs the massive sword down into the ground. He may be disappointed, but Kojirou isn't the sort to interfere in someone else's fight. Instead, the black-blue glow of Reinforcement dies, the tattoos thrash themselves into a new arrangement, and Kojirou sits down atop the chainsword's hilt to simply watch. You're already done? You're so boring. But I guess if they don't bleed they're no fun. Is that it? Do you only get going when somebody bleeds? Or is it just that they're not challenges? I bet you'd rather be fighting them. "Yes," Kojirou says to thin air, sadly, "I would." I thought so! "I know." I just wanted to remind you that I know you very, very well, Kojirou-kun. Very very well. "Yes, I know that, too," Kojirou sighs, looking up at the sky. It was a clear and beautiful sky, full of clouds even in the dimming light. The dance of clouds was beautiful, even now. How he longed for it. These brief glimpses, these touches, these tastes... But he could not truly leave the Land of Steel. He was not entirely certain he wanted to. After all, it was his wish, wasn't it? It was what he had always wanted. "This is," Kojirou observes to no one, "Unfortunate. Perhaps next time your enemies can bring someone worthy of the skills arrayed against them?" There's that note of vague hope in his voice. Apparently, even for Kojirou Sasaki, hope springs eternal. Kojirou's eyes - and smile - turn to Arturia. He looks so sad, or perhaps simply so distant, so...peaceful...that he can't help but look melancholy, sitting atop the chainsword. "I suppose you could say that I'm full of surprises, flower of the battlefield. I'm looking forward to our next duel. I hope you will try to kill me with everything you have, as I told you when I watched you fight last time." "I would consider it," he adds, "A personal favor."
Emiya Shirou	On the one hand, Shirou really hates being overwhelmed like that. But these enemies are HUGE and using weapons he's not at all suited for. He's HUMAn, dammit all. Not some ridiculous Servant!... So, in a way it's a wonder he's fighting on this level at all. Against MECHS? That's pretty ridiculous. But he rises nevertheless, coughing, just in time to see Avenger SAVAGE one of the mechs. He's left speechless, gaping in awe. What MONSTROUS strength... "why couldn't they have just fought the duel like they arranged... geeze."
Project MORDRED	Saber cuts off one of the lesser mecha's legs, and it falls over, destabilized sufficiently to be incapable in combat. One gone, two disabled. This fight is going well for those who sided with honour "You are like that cretin of a human ruler." RhuDD-a G4R sounds almost contemptuous when he stares at Saber, then his gaze turns to MORDRED, and he sounds even more contemptuous. "You associate with them. You really do. Pathetic." And it's there that MORDRED takes the opportunity to cut open the other side of his faceplate, it drops and reveals more armour and some machinery behind. He makes a simple statement, "You are outclassed, you lost your faceplate. Return whence you came lest I destroy your core, Emergent. You are fortunate that I still offer you this mercy."
Gawain	Sir Gawain is knocked backwards by the energy blast, but swiftly crawls to get to his face, shaking his head at the pain it dealt. He watches Kojirou's actions, but is smart enough to realize that interacting with him right now could potentially lead to his demise. "You have been offered mercy! I sincerely recommend you take it, for I feel nobody here wishes for more violence."
Saber	Even during the battle, Saber's expression had remained, for the most part, calm. Only when RhuDD-a G4R compared her to their universe's version of herself -- or someone similar -- did she frown in clear disapproval, as well as some worry. She had hoped that their own tale might be resolved without the betrayal, tragedy, and bloodshed of her own...though MORDRED seemed to believe it was inevitable. RhuDD-a G4R, however, earned only her disapproval. "One day, when you learn of what it means to be a knight, perhaps you might become one. But today is not that day." While Saber also frowned when Kojirou regarded and addressed her, it was a very different sort of frown. Had he been granted his wish, then, only to realise the true nature of the Grail in a way that she never could? That is, not without becoming corrupted and losing her soul. "Indeed," she answered, and her gaze changed in a subtle way, but one which might make him quite happy. She had resolved that she would have to free him from his curse...which, naturally, meant killing him. "I promise you that when we face each other, I shall show no mercy."
Fake Avenger	Kojirou frowns from his perch atop the chainsword. "How ugly, to insult such a beautiful swordsman like that," Kojirou sighs, "Only a foolish man in the throes of defeat lashes out at a superior existence. Perhaps that's simply a cry for death. Unlike the ones scattered at your feet, I'm perfectly willing to grant you a swift execution, if that's your desire." The Servant gives a shrug of disinterest, looking off into the sky again. What more did he expect? Did he think that perhaps the one standing one would be any better than his thugs? Only a stupid creature believed such things, and Kojirou should not have been stupid any longer. He should have known better. A thousand years of life had told him better. A thousand years of life had taught him time and again the same lesson, brutally and efficiently. There were the strong, who shone like diamonds. There were the weak, who sought to cover those diamonds with mud. And nothing he had ever seen had implied otherwise. Saber addresses him directly, and his eyes swing back over to her. The black flecks dancing in his eyes seem independent of his actual eyes - anxious, eager, like tadpoles swimming in lavender pools. The surface is unbroken, but the darkness remains. He nods, but his smile seems a bit more restless, a bit less distant, and a tiny bit more human. He turns his gaze away. "Good."