Lancer || Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
croibhristeoir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tvklogs2011-06-25 08:45 am
croibhristeoir) wrote in tvklogs2011-06-25 08:45 am
Entry tags:
//ye first, o silver, o iron [open]
Who: Zero Lancer and whoever happens to be out past midnight.
Where: Around the city/wherever Shadows need pummeling.
When: Dark Hour, 6/24
Summary: A Servant looking for a purpose and finding something else.
Rating: T for totally awesome Persona?
Log:
In the daylight, Lancer was completely out of his element. Acting human was difficult, and functioning as one in an era he had such limited knowledge of was proving even more so. But this city at midnight...when fighting and surviving seemed the only priority?
That was the kind of world where a knight could thrive even without a lord to answer to. And though the concept of answering to no one actually unsettled Lancer, there were more important things to do. Those who had the strength to fight were meant to protect those without. Even in a human body, he was the first Knight of Fianna. Lancer could still fight, and he would do so until the end.
Before Lancer could turn to questions such as 'how am I no longer a Servant' and 'what am I to do without a Master', there were more important things that needed answering. First he would discover the truth of this place and its distortions for the benefit of the others that had awoken here. Then and only then would he focus on himself and the questions that hovered everpresent in his mind.
A knight thought of others before himself, and those in this city needed to understand this twisted landscape that only people like Lancer could survive in. Even at the risk of his life, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne would not give up.
But on this night, when he'd gone out into the Dark Hour armed with nothing but his hand-to-hand combat expertise? This night was turning into a dire situation. Lancer did not know how long it had been--twenty minutes, maybe thirty--but he knew now the kind of limits a human body had. He was so slow, how did any of them fight this way? Lancer realized that he lacked the reflexes and heightened sense to deal with several enemies at once.
A realization which came all too late, as the knight found himself cornered by five of those small masked creatures that wandered the streets at night. This was hardly his first fight of the evening, and Lancer hadn't escaped from those unscathed. The golden-eyed knight was in no small amount of pain at the moment--that sense was the only thing heightened about this fragile human body.
He wasn't strong enough. A Knight of Fianna wasn't strong enough. He couldn't fail again, could he? Would he never be able to regain his pride as a knight? Was that the fate of a traitor, to be lost in a cycle of torment without redemption?!
Lancer dropped to one knee, scratched up and bleeding as he glared daggers at the gathering Shadows. This would not, could not be the end. Not because of something so foolish as inexperience with a human form.
If I was more like him, this wouldn't happen. The thought was sudden, the sentiment out of nowhere. There was a dull ache in the back of Lancer's head that he had dismissed as another injury--though he didn't remember sustaining a strike to the head. He wouldn't have let this stop him.
An image flashed through Lancer's mind as he forced himself to stand and take a fighting stance again--that of a literal knight in shining armor.
He remembered the stories, that hero's work fresh in the mind of his home country even in the time of the Fianna. Surely that knight would not have lost to only five enemies no matter the disadvantage. He lashed out again in a flurry of kicks and punches to the nearest Shadow, driving it back and seemingly causing the others to reconsider who it was they were attacking. Good, he'd bought himself a moment to catch his breath and rethink his approach. The one on the furthest right was closest to him now, so he started by striking at that one. It seemed to think that perhaps this was a bad idea, dissolving into nothing with one of its companions.
Three left. Lancer knew now that he had overestimated himself, acted rashly and thrown himself into combat rather than wait and strategize properly. He wasn't even armed, but he would still fight. There was no retreat for someone such as himself.
That dull ache in his head was becoming sharper; why? Why couldn't he have been done with this by now, or avoided being cornered in the first place? Surely a knight like him would have been. What made Diarmuid so different from--
The pain in his head seemed, for a moment, enough to turn the former Servant's vision white. How much worse could this possibly get? If he was incapacitated for even a moment, then he was as good as dead.
'I am thou, and thou art I.'
Lancer had shut his eyes against the blinding white and the sudden pain, but both seemed to have vanished as suddenly as they came. He heard a flurry of movement, and once he opened them again the black creatures were gone.
In their place stood a knight in flawless white armor, long black hair falling over his shoulders.
It couldn't be. It wasn't. Could he of all people have really appeared here?! Lancer stared in abject shock at the figure before him, again falling to his knees out of both fatigue and respect for the warrior before him.
'I am Cú Chulainn, the stalwart harbinger of thy victory.'
Where: Around the city/wherever Shadows need pummeling.
When: Dark Hour, 6/24
Summary: A Servant looking for a purpose and finding something else.
Rating: T for totally awesome Persona?
Log:
I make my oath here.
In the daylight, Lancer was completely out of his element. Acting human was difficult, and functioning as one in an era he had such limited knowledge of was proving even more so. But this city at midnight...when fighting and surviving seemed the only priority?
That was the kind of world where a knight could thrive even without a lord to answer to. And though the concept of answering to no one actually unsettled Lancer, there were more important things to do. Those who had the strength to fight were meant to protect those without. Even in a human body, he was the first Knight of Fianna. Lancer could still fight, and he would do so until the end.
I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heaven.
Before Lancer could turn to questions such as 'how am I no longer a Servant' and 'what am I to do without a Master', there were more important things that needed answering. First he would discover the truth of this place and its distortions for the benefit of the others that had awoken here. Then and only then would he focus on himself and the questions that hovered everpresent in his mind.
A knight thought of others before himself, and those in this city needed to understand this twisted landscape that only people like Lancer could survive in. Even at the risk of his life, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne would not give up.
I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades.
But on this night, when he'd gone out into the Dark Hour armed with nothing but his hand-to-hand combat expertise? This night was turning into a dire situation. Lancer did not know how long it had been--twenty minutes, maybe thirty--but he knew now the kind of limits a human body had. He was so slow, how did any of them fight this way? Lancer realized that he lacked the reflexes and heightened sense to deal with several enemies at once.
A realization which came all too late, as the knight found himself cornered by five of those small masked creatures that wandered the streets at night. This was hardly his first fight of the evening, and Lancer hadn't escaped from those unscathed. The golden-eyed knight was in no small amount of pain at the moment--that sense was the only thing heightened about this fragile human body.
He wasn't strong enough. A Knight of Fianna wasn't strong enough. He couldn't fail again, could he? Would he never be able to regain his pride as a knight? Was that the fate of a traitor, to be lost in a cycle of torment without redemption?!
Lancer dropped to one knee, scratched up and bleeding as he glared daggers at the gathering Shadows. This would not, could not be the end. Not because of something so foolish as inexperience with a human form.
If I was more like him, this wouldn't happen. The thought was sudden, the sentiment out of nowhere. There was a dull ache in the back of Lancer's head that he had dismissed as another injury--though he didn't remember sustaining a strike to the head. He wouldn't have let this stop him.
An image flashed through Lancer's mind as he forced himself to stand and take a fighting stance again--that of a literal knight in shining armor.
He remembered the stories, that hero's work fresh in the mind of his home country even in the time of the Fianna. Surely that knight would not have lost to only five enemies no matter the disadvantage. He lashed out again in a flurry of kicks and punches to the nearest Shadow, driving it back and seemingly causing the others to reconsider who it was they were attacking. Good, he'd bought himself a moment to catch his breath and rethink his approach. The one on the furthest right was closest to him now, so he started by striking at that one. It seemed to think that perhaps this was a bad idea, dissolving into nothing with one of its companions.
Three left. Lancer knew now that he had overestimated himself, acted rashly and thrown himself into combat rather than wait and strategize properly. He wasn't even armed, but he would still fight. There was no retreat for someone such as himself.
That dull ache in his head was becoming sharper; why? Why couldn't he have been done with this by now, or avoided being cornered in the first place? Surely a knight like him would have been. What made Diarmuid so different from--
Come past thy restraining rings, and be thou the hands that protect the balance-!
The pain in his head seemed, for a moment, enough to turn the former Servant's vision white. How much worse could this possibly get? If he was incapacitated for even a moment, then he was as good as dead.
'I am thou, and thou art I.'
Lancer had shut his eyes against the blinding white and the sudden pain, but both seemed to have vanished as suddenly as they came. He heard a flurry of movement, and once he opened them again the black creatures were gone.
In their place stood a knight in flawless white armor, long black hair falling over his shoulders.
It couldn't be. It wasn't. Could he of all people have really appeared here?! Lancer stared in abject shock at the figure before him, again falling to his knees out of both fatigue and respect for the warrior before him.
'I am Cú Chulainn, the stalwart harbinger of thy victory.'
no subject
Right this way.
[He led him to a convenient store, which seemed to be empty and spacious. Probably, the owner didn't run the business quite well.]
Wait here, I'll go find the kit. It must be here somewhere.
no subject
Html fail, sry DX
[Kaito went through into the store, hopefully the kit wasn't that hard to find one. He thought he could activate his personal detector, however, he had to remind himself that he wasn't a robot anymore. So he could only trust his instinct inside of the storage. Lucky for him, his instinct was right.]
Gladly there's no big difference between here and Japan.
[He took the medical kit and turned back to Lancer's location. And here's where he didn't expect to be. The Shadows lurked in front of him and there's nowhere to run. Now he knew those creatures were actually aiming for one person.
Kaito took a crowbar from the storage and shoved them, but still it didn't work. He also tried to escape from the back, but there's only a wall behind him. He had no other option, even though he didn't want to.]
L-Lancer.. help me!
S'cool, happens all the time.
[Not that it mattered. A proper knight would risk all it took for the sake of another's protection. So he moved as quickly as he could, launching into a few quick punches and kicks to divert their attention if not drive them off.]
[What he wouldn't give for a lance right about now.]
I did it again B|
Thanks. Those creatures, they're aim for one person. I should have known it.