Chevaleresse

"Good to hear. Just give me a few moments to practice this, I don't usually bring people along. . ." He put his hand on Satomi's shoulder and focused on his ability for a few moments, skipping just a couple feet forward in space and concentrating on bringing the samurai with him. This practiced and reasonably reliable after a couple of these, he turned his focus to actually crossing the gap. "Right, here we go." He took a deep breath, and then performed a series of blinks aimed at getting him as close as possible to the mysterious signal he'd been feeling.

The plushie gives off a vague sense of sadness and regret at the mention of being too weak-willed to resist Dackly's gaze, despite being apparently immobile and incapable of actual communication at the moment.

Kyou was visibly disturbed by the thought. "It's a good thing we're all seeing a psychologist," the tomboy murmured. A mental attack by the Angel, that was a scary thought. Not that basically everything about this place wasn't scary. She'd thought this would be a great new place to explore - not that she hadn't been anxious at all about exiting the familiar world of steel that she'd known her whole life - but now she was suspect of everything. Kaiju erupting from the earth, shared dreams about monsters in the water. . . not to mention whatever the people in charge weren't telling them. Kyou took a few more bites from the breakfast, though the doom and gloom talk was really killing her appetite for anything other than her bed.

Kusuke made a face on hearing the all-too-familiar sound of Arminius's voice, but smoothed over his expression before the. . . guy. . . arrived. "Exploring," he said somewhat shortly, before turning back to Satomi to respond. "Could do it the old fashioned way and just climb down on a rope. I could also try and practice pulling someone with me when I teleport, which would get us over there faster and without using up any supplies. Do you mind if I give it a shot?"

The computer gave her an output, though it seemed. . . questionable. Still, there wasn't supposed to be much of an issue with it, right? Still, she wasn't really sure this was the correct way to tap ambient mana - especially after using it experimentally to boost her energy a bit. It was a way, though, which was useful.

Lancer's response to the challenge (and the energy buildup behind it) is wordless, simply her expression hardening into one of grim determination as she leveled her lance at the challenger. A swirling vortex of red, black, and violet energy sprang up around it as the lance itself seemingly began to rotate; the air around her became warped as the weapon bent and warped reality itself. Some words about "releasing seals" could barely be heard over wind of the weapon's windup; Rhongomyniad, one of the pillars that held heaven and earth apart, being drawn upon at. . . not full strength, but much more so than the simple piercing weapon it had been used at to this point. The vortex narrowed itself into a cylinder and blasted forth to meet Samantha's assault. . . and the psychic fire tore through it as if it were a blast of particularly menacing confetti before utterly enveloping Lancer. The roaring and the light stunned what soldiers remained; when that faded into smoke, their weapons quickly met the ground, followed by their feet as they fled. The haze and darkness made it impossible to tell what was left behind in the crater where Lancer had been standing, but as a breeze swept across the plain, it revealed. . . . . . a rather despondent-looking plush toy? It was clearly modeled after the Lancer who had been destroyed(?) by Samantha just now, and in fact seemed to be animated so. Those curious may have wanted to inquire with a particular gorgon about this. . .

Erica and Ruler In lieu of a response, Erica's Servant simply faded away in a shimmer of blue sparks. It wasn't that she had a preference for either form, but it would help her Master conserve energy. . . and walking around in that getup had never stopped being a pain. She wasn't certain whether to believe the woman's insistence that this tampering was accidental; mages were notoriously shifty types, unconstrained by silly things like "decency" or "morality" in their quest for knowledge. There would definitely be many issues to contend with in this Grail War, another among them her own damaged class container. She was having difficulty gauging exactly what was wrong; she had no Command Seals, of course, but beyond that it was impossible to tell. Karsten and Assassin The main thing that separated them from the roof was a short elevator ride; once they were there, they had a fairly clear overlook of the city. "I'd say. . . couple years now? They've been makin' a bigger fuss as time's gone by, though. More he expands his operations, bigger the exposure risk gets for 'em. I'm just hopin' to cash that particular prize in before anyone else. Doesn't hurt that he's the second or third worst kinda scum, either. I doubt the Association's the only ones that are after 'im, though; lotta people would like him dead. Or better yet, doin' his magic for them instead of his current group." The man pulled out a box, seemingly identical to the ones scattered about his person; one almost wondered how he kept track of the things. The mystery of what it contained, however, was short-lived; he produced a cigar from it before stowing the box, exchanging that for a lighter and drawing deeply off of it before sighing in what sounded like disappointment. "That Kazuki really let me down with these. Anyway, though, you got any ideas for takin' this guy down?"

Again, the blow sent an exhalation of pain rushing out of Arturia; fortunately, her armor at least blunted enough of the impact that it didn't knock the wind out of her. Seeing her opponent's move, she made a decision. She was going to try to recover her weapon, but Arturia couldn't actually lose hers. She had the time advantage; so, she pulled herself to her feet as quickly as possible, reignited her blade, and rushed at her enemy while shouting at the top of her lungs, aiming a massive swing in the space the other girl would have to be in to pick up the bat.

"I do not know what ire you have drawn from your goddesses. If you have committed some crime where you are from, however, there is no better way to atone for it than fighting here." She fell silent for a moment, considering her own words. Redemption. . . was it possible for a failure of her magnitude? The mountain placed before her in that regard seemed insurmountable. "We fought well together. It is not good for you to continue to fear me. I have had. . . much experience, with humans needlessly fearing and hating me, I do not wish it to continue." Her tone sounded sad - at least, moreso than her normally somber tone of voice, though it was difficult to tell. She didn't comment on the other presence; it felt powerless, for now, and she did not need the woman fleeing at the question.

Subtle, this one was. "You know that I don't mean you any ill will, correct?" So she really was afraid, actually afraid of Mitsurugi. The behavior was baffling to her; they'd just fought alongside one another, and their only prior interactions had been Spicy HG (what an odd name. . .) similarly doing her best to evade the goddess. "Unless you've committed some sort of crime against this group or this world, you've nothing to fear."

The headbutt stunned Arturia for a moment as she let out a squawk of pain. She felt blood starting to run down her face - did that break her nose? The expression quickly degenerated into a growl of anger; incongruous as it might have been to be upset about it at a time like this, that was gross. Once she'd recovered from the blow to her head (this was a pattern she'd love to see ending any time soon,) she tried to reassert control of the situation by attempting to roll over, placing herself on top of her foe instead of the other way around. She let the sword vanish in the process; she had an idea for if this failed, and if it succeeded she could just strangle the bitch until she passed out.

Ruler Ruler shook their head. "I don't know. I am not a mage." The cloaked figure finally strode forward out of the circle, with a noticeable hobble, almost as if they were injured; that and the seemingly hunched position might have given the impression of a deformed cripple. "We should be able to scout without too much trouble. I would prefer to try and defeat our enemies in direct combat, though." The reason for this may have been fairly clear to Erica, though whether she actually wanted to pursue such a thing was certainly in question; a Servant with their own Command Seals was a dangerous prospect. Karsten "Wouldn't count on it. He might not know that it's me specifically huntin' him, but I doubt someone with a network like his wouldn't know that the Association wants him dead. Also doubt that he's ready for a Servant, though, 'less he's got one of his own. Best to be prepared either way." She was willing to work with him, or a very good liar. Good, or at least as much as it could be hoped. "As fer plans, I'm thinkin' on it. Normally I'd be doin' what you said you'd be doin, so we'll have to pick our fights carefully. May as well head up to the roof and get some air while we talk about it, though. Already grabbed what I need for huntin'." Revolver, a large caliber, good for firing specialized ammo: check. Trackers, check. Piercers, check. Dust-bangs, packets of iron dust that exploded when thrown at people, check. Anchors, check. Too bad he didn't have some of those bullets that fried people's Magic Circuits; something like that was too close to spiritual surgery, something he'd never been able to do.

Mitsurugi shook her head, but didn't reply. Always making assumptions, having no respect for the gods or even one another. Ignoring what one better-informed told them because they so stubbornly had to be right. She sighed, and took her seat. And the other divine spirit seemed to be avoiding her entirely, for some reason. A part of her wanted to inquire as to why; another simply wanted to center herself for the next battle. After pondering her options for a moment, she simply took up a seat next to Spicy HG, probing her reactions.

"Had you stopped for a moment to consider things, you may have realized the truth of the situation. These Servants are corrupted spirits, and such a thing was likely done without their consent. Not that I would expect a mortal to understand such a thing." It struck a note far too close to home for the goddess. Struggling, trying to maintain her identity as a guardian and not the ravager so many had started to believe her to be. They didn't understand what it meant to exist in the realm of thoughts, concepts, and impressions, rather than the physical. It gave one some great advantages, yes, but came with a unique vulnerability. "Nevermind having proper respect for the fallen."

Ruler and Erica The previous war. . . it shouldn't make a difference. She was never a mage, though. An engineer, maybe, but not a mage. A blast of static assaulted Erica's ears; the artificial voice didn't know how to handle the owner exhaling as she pondered the situation. "Possibly." Mages were a slippery sort, and her assurances that it was an accident did little to actually reassure Ruler that it was so. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, the Servant spoke again. "You did achieve your goal. I am the God of Hope, and we will be fighting together in this Grail War." For better or for worse. Karsten and Assassin? "Well, truth be told I'm not here for the whole Grail War, though with the kind of folks most mages are, I don't mind offin' most of them for a shot at that cup. I'm here to kill one of 'em in particular. Drug lord, the Association wants him dead for usin' magic to make all sorts of interestin' new powders. They get rid of their risk of exposure, I get a fat paycheck and the satisfaction of putting him down. You got any issues with that?" He wasn't sure how this Servant would react; they were supposed to want the Grail pretty bad. Still, best to get it out of the way now. If it came to it, he could do this by himself.

"No, no, there must be something else you did. Look at my parameters and my class, and tell me you did not tamper with the ritual." This was wrong, very wrong. She couldn't be a Ruler and also be a contracted Servant, that meant there was tampering done. Something polluting the system. What it was, she couldn't say; she wasn't a magus. "You have no idea how dangerous this could have been for everyone in the city." A memory of a berserk god, lashing out at her "favored" mortal for wanting to act on his own. . .

Erica and Ruler(?) The light faded after a moment or two, with an addition that might have been alarmingly familiar to Erica; a shower of golden motes reminiscent of a Servant fading away for good washed through the room before fading. After this, Erica would have felt the weight of the presence of what felt like three distinct Servants, pressing down on the room before they coalesced into one. The weight faded after a moment, though it left an almost . . . hollow presence behind, as if something was missing. Still, after the light and the wash of gold faded (along with rather more of her own mana than the mage might have expected, leaving a cloaked figure visible, standing in the center of the ritual circle. The figure's cloak was tattered along the edges, but seemed to be made of a fine black cloth, trimmed with gold in the places said trim wasn't torn free. The hood was deep enough to totally obscure whatever face might lie beneath, and from the proportions it looked like the Servant was hunched over. A crackle of static preceded a harsh, clearly artificial voice sounding from within. "Greetings, magus. I am a Servant of the R. . ." The figure glanced about, seemingly confused. Then a hard look, that Erica could almost feel despite the cover of the hood. "What have you done to the ritual?" Karsten "And that'll be Karsten Solberg to you, ma'am. 'Fraid I couldn't tell ya where to get one of these in town, though you've clearly got good taste in headwear." This "Servant" seemed to be aware of her surroundings, and not much for the formality of the thing. Good, those would be useful tools. Though he'd have to watch her, that was the type that wasn't keen on following convention like "don't stab the guy you're working with in the back." Best to be safe over sorry, though if he'd gotten a full understanding of how this worked, she needed him more than he needed her. "You'll hafta pardon the view, too. Penthouse ain't a great place to be doin' summoning rituals."

Mitsurugi simply stared at Snow, her disapproval nearly exerting a physical force on the woman. Were she a pettier god, she likely would have laid a curse on the woman; as it were, she simply ensured that Snow saw her expression before turning away. The vampire - she'd always had an odd relationship with vampires - seemed to want some privacy, though she believed she could offer some comfort to the man. She didn't quite comprehend the emnity the shinigami seemed to have for him; perhaps she saw him as an affront to her duties? Not that she was particularly responsible about them. . . The woman looked over the field for a moment, and sighed before turning and stepping onto Magnum's strange vehicle, doing her best to ignore the slight irritation at the man that welled up. Must he be so noisy?

She probably have seen that particular move coming; Arturia was thinking too much like this was just another round of fencing, and not someone actually trying to kill her. Though, why the hell was she just ignoring getting cut open? One would think the girl would have at least slowed down a bit. . . Arturia more or less let her opponent bring her down; there was little chance of her resisting regardless. Instead, she focused on exploiting the fact that she had free limbs and her enemy did not, bringing her knee up into the other girl as hard as she could manage while attempting to awkwardly slash with her sword arm. . . which more or less just meant holding the edge of the thing against the other girl as best as she could and hoping that it did enough damage to distract or discourage her. At least, that's what she tried to do; the impact with the ground wasn't exactly a gentle one.

Arturia stepped backward out of the reach of the attack again, giving herself a somewhat larger window than last time (though not too much, as she has a slightly better sense of the girl's reach now.) As soon as the bat was pointed right at her - and thusly moving away from her instead of at her - Arturia launched her own offensive, bringing her blade toward the tomboyish girl's shoulder in a diagonal slash. She continued to move forward as she did so, aiming to get inside her opponent's reach; unless her initial attack was parried, she'd bring her sword back and attempt a moving thrust forward, right into her belly.

Karsten The man looked once over the strangely-patterned tattoo on his remaining hand once again. A sort of circular pattern crosshatched with lines; it reminded him of looking down a scope. Command Seals, they were called; they'd let him give orders to a Servant. He looked down at the summoning circle traced out in front of him, the discarded bags of blood laying against one side of the basement. The ritual was simple, almost too simple, and a part of him suspected the man who'd given him the information was playing him somehow. Still, he'd been reliable in the past, and so Karsten cleared his throat. A moment of focus, to open up his circuits, and then the chant. "Blood flows unhindered Stories of great knights intertwine My body is yours Your heart I desire Brandish your soul against my foes Come forth with me unto victory..." The circle started to glow as magical energy flowed into it, and then it flared up with a blinding light at the chant's conclusion. . .

Arturia tried to step backward and parry, but it was a lot faster to move the tip of a weapon than one's body; the bat thumped into her gut, eliciting a grunt and a pang of nausea. Still, she continued her backward motion, doing her best to keep her weapon between herself and her assailant. Sloppy, sloppy, should have paid closer attention to her reach. She stayed on the defensive, waiting for her next opportunity. Arturia had a plan, she just needed to wait for her chance to implement it.

Arturia stepped backward, straying just outside the reach of the attack. Her counterattack was light, experimental - a quick thrust more meant to get the girl to defend rather than to actually inflict damage. Her opening move had been telegraphed, but that was no reason to assume that the rest of them would be as clumsy (though if they were it'd be the first fortunate thing that'd happened to her today.) The buzzing tip of her Blade darted in toward her foe's chest, before withdrawing back to a defensive posture at the first sign of a response.

"Gods. . . damn it." She pulled herself to her knees first, using one hand to steady herself. Head trauma, not a good thing. Evidently being magical didn't stop blows to the head from fucking you up, who knew? "I suppose talking this out like reasonable human beings is out of the question." A statement, not an inquiry. This girl was obviously pretty confident in her ability to contend with her, a confidence that was probably well-placed considering the situation. She pushed off the ground, rising to her feet and taking up a fighting stance, reigniting the sword she hadn't known she had until a few minutes ago. A shaky one, and a bit rusty, but she'd always had terrible form regardless. . . "Not going to monologue any more about your plans?" Arturia watched for shifts in the stranger's movement, indicators of when and where she was going to strike, preparing her own parry-and-riposte.

If this hadn't felt unreal before, it certainly did now. She wasn't sure whether she felt like laughing or crying at the moment. Arturia did neither, of course, but it did leave her hanging for a bit as she tried to figure out an appropriate response to the goddess of power threatening to fry her with lightning out of paranoia and then falling over because of her heels. Eventually she decided on hesitantly stepping toward Lilith, dispelling her weapon (but remaining transformed) as she did so. "Uh, can we talk now, please?" She looked about nervously. What would even happen if someone found them out here? The pessimist in her said 'nothing good;' there was probably a reason Kallisto wasn't revealing herself to everyone she could. The still-looming threat of finding out just how conductive her body was didn't help, either.