Entry tags:
please, anyone ( closed. )
Who: zero (
offtune) & archer (
fakers)
What: how to be a master
When: some time after this mess
Where: house #61
Warning(s): weird drakengard and fate lore i guess; blood and mentions of violence
[ it's hard to miss the new insignia on the back of her hand. not like it itches, or looks weird, or calls for attention or anything, but it's still distracting as hell. zero finds herself staring at it often times, rubbing idly at it as though it's washable ink. it doesn't come off, but that doesn't stop her from scrubbing at it until her skin's raw when she bathes.
zero knows she should probably talk to archer about it. while that man's no where to be seen, she feels him everywhere. doesn't avoid him so much as she simply doesn't feel like seeing him yet, not entirely ready to face the reality of whatever the hell this marking means. and honestly, she doesn't know where to begin; tells herself that she didn't make a regrettable decision, but maybe, just maybe, it was a rash one. all for what, to save a guy she barely even knows?
despite this, she feels some inexplicable relief— with the ability to sensing his whereabouts, she knows that at least he's alive and (presumably) well.
there is a cost, archer told her. what he meant by that, she's yet to know, but on the second night of radio silence, she finally manages to contact him. a2 isn't home, which makes house 61 ideal for them to meet.
the door is unlocked for archer to open when he arrives— in fact, it's even slightly ajar. she'd told him as much over the phone. and as it turns out, it's a good thing that she did because of a minor accident. zero's seated on the kitchen counter, knife in her good hand. she's attempting to pull a shard of broken glass from the stub of her severed arm. he probably wouldn't need to ask; the story's right there in the scene: the remains of a cup is shattered across the tile, freshly destroyed from the way it still gleams under the light. she has scratches all up her arms from slipping, but it's not as bad as the glass that had plunged deep in her arm.
the prosthetic part has already been removed and dropped by her feet. with the sharp of the knife in the ideal position to nudge the piece out, she holds it place by clenching her teeth around the handle, then uses her now free hand to remove it. zero sighs in relief when it's gone, feeling instantly better. there are probably more on her person, but taking care of the biggest pain in the ass one was priority. lacking better items to clean the wound, she wraps it haphazardly with toilet paper. it seeps the blood almost immediately, but she continues to coil the arm in it anyway. her healing powers aren't as great as they used to be. ]
Glad you could make it. [ said almost too coolly for what she's doing (or have done), but she sets aside the knife and exhales before moving off the counter, dropping to the floor with a thump. before long, she's stepping toward the sofas, gesturing archer over.
no, she's not going to take care of the mess right now, don't even ask. but anyway, they both know why he's here, so she'll keep it short and sweet as she sits on the cushions: ] Just give me the abridged version.
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What: how to be a master
When: some time after this mess
Where: house #61
Warning(s): weird drakengard and fate lore i guess; blood and mentions of violence
[ it's hard to miss the new insignia on the back of her hand. not like it itches, or looks weird, or calls for attention or anything, but it's still distracting as hell. zero finds herself staring at it often times, rubbing idly at it as though it's washable ink. it doesn't come off, but that doesn't stop her from scrubbing at it until her skin's raw when she bathes.
zero knows she should probably talk to archer about it. while that man's no where to be seen, she feels him everywhere. doesn't avoid him so much as she simply doesn't feel like seeing him yet, not entirely ready to face the reality of whatever the hell this marking means. and honestly, she doesn't know where to begin; tells herself that she didn't make a regrettable decision, but maybe, just maybe, it was a rash one. all for what, to save a guy she barely even knows?
despite this, she feels some inexplicable relief— with the ability to sensing his whereabouts, she knows that at least he's alive and (presumably) well.
there is a cost, archer told her. what he meant by that, she's yet to know, but on the second night of radio silence, she finally manages to contact him. a2 isn't home, which makes house 61 ideal for them to meet.
the door is unlocked for archer to open when he arrives— in fact, it's even slightly ajar. she'd told him as much over the phone. and as it turns out, it's a good thing that she did because of a minor accident. zero's seated on the kitchen counter, knife in her good hand. she's attempting to pull a shard of broken glass from the stub of her severed arm. he probably wouldn't need to ask; the story's right there in the scene: the remains of a cup is shattered across the tile, freshly destroyed from the way it still gleams under the light. she has scratches all up her arms from slipping, but it's not as bad as the glass that had plunged deep in her arm.
the prosthetic part has already been removed and dropped by her feet. with the sharp of the knife in the ideal position to nudge the piece out, she holds it place by clenching her teeth around the handle, then uses her now free hand to remove it. zero sighs in relief when it's gone, feeling instantly better. there are probably more on her person, but taking care of the biggest pain in the ass one was priority. lacking better items to clean the wound, she wraps it haphazardly with toilet paper. it seeps the blood almost immediately, but she continues to coil the arm in it anyway. her healing powers aren't as great as they used to be. ]
Glad you could make it. [ said almost too coolly for what she's doing (or have done), but she sets aside the knife and exhales before moving off the counter, dropping to the floor with a thump. before long, she's stepping toward the sofas, gesturing archer over.
no, she's not going to take care of the mess right now, don't even ask. but anyway, they both know why he's here, so she'll keep it short and sweet as she sits on the cushions: ] Just give me the abridged version.
no subject
zero herself hasn't gone to the wyvernest, but she's heard whispers of such an establishment. and she can only stand in silence as she stares at the sign, remembering fondly of... of... well, mikhail's hatred toward them. it seems tasteless, but it makes her smile nonetheless. that dummy is so self-righteous up until he's faced with a cousin species.
oh, right. archer was speaking. ]
— Yeah, let's go inside and see.
[ this time, it's zero that leads them, walking inside before archer has a chance to reply. of course, in an unsurprising display of her general lack of manners, she invites herself through the gate, leaving her servant to take care of whatever's needed at the front desk. she doesn't know about the favor yet but... she figures if archer's taking her here, he's prepared for the worst.
when he finds her again, she'll be crouched before a wyvern... if it can call itself a wyvern. doesn't yet dare to touch it. ]
What are these supposed to be?
no subject
other than occasionally returning her to check up on the one he'd rescued, the place had no real appeal to him. ]
Hm... so even you can't say no to things like this.
[ admittedly, he's actually somewhat glad to discover that she actually is interested in this sort of thing. though it isn't as if their association has been very long, it's been difficult to truly get a read on her. while he's seen passed the brusque manner with which she usually acts, it's still hard to say what else can manage to pierce that mask. it's not as if he can nearly get himself killed every day... or at the very least, that would be pretty stupid.
the people at the reception desk seem to recognize him, and simply wave him on through. they're perhaps a bit surprised that someone else is actually with him today, but wisely won't question it. ]
They call them dragons, but I'm not sure creatures that small can really be called such a thing. [ he glances around, trying to spot the one he knows, before quickly doing so. a small red "dragon," which actually scurries over to the both of them once it recognizes archer. ]
This one managed to get himself lost a while back. It doesn't seem like he's gotten any smarter. [ that said, with a sigh archer kneels down, taking some meat he'd had tucked away in his belongings to feed it. ]
no subject
[ so whatever he's implying, he's wrong, all right?
to be sure, it was foolish idea, bringing her here, and he'll hear about it eventually. thankfully, she's currently occupied with indescribable nostalgia — it doesn't show in her expression, which is more or less scrutinizing the so-called "dragons." ]
Even Wyverns are less pathetic than these lizards.
[ but to her surprise, they're sentient enough to recognize someone to who saved it...? or maybe it just smells the food in his pocket. the red dragon close to them, she tentatively reaches out to stroke the top of its head. she scoffs almost fondly. ]
So you managed to escaped, and this guy dragged you back, huh?
no subject
[ that part gets his attention, if only because it had been so casually slipped into her protests. an odd weakness, though he already knows the nature of her very existence is unusual. he can feel that just from being in her proximity.
though... perhaps that means bringing her to a place with dragons is a bad idea? ]
They're certainly a bit defenseless, but I don't know if I'd call them pathetic.
[ okay he actually does sort of agree; he knows just how pathetic these things can be. all the same, it's hard to deny their appeal... zero doesn't seem too perturbed being in the presence of her mortal enemies. the dragon seems all too happy about being pet, quickly forgetting archer and instead going straight to zero, letting out a rather shrill cry of approval. ]
Traitor... [ even his offering of meat isn't sufficient anymore, apparently. ]
no subject
they're ugly, they're dumb as hell, and they sure as hell aren't dragons.
that doesn't stop her from continue to stroke the creature's scaly skin, until it coos.
and she cracks a small smile at that. ]
What the hell do you want? [ there's laughter in her mocking tone, and a hint of fondness that never managed to fully escape her. ] It doesn't seem particularly grateful of its savior.
no subject
I did get the impression it had rather self-destructive impulses before. This just confirms that.
[ if it's drawn to her, anyway. though as archer watches them interact, it's obvious enough that she does have a soft spot for things like this. her earlier hesitation was slightly, but still noticeable.
when archer tries to get its attention once more, the dragon just glances at him, snapping its jaws once before turning its attention back to zero. ]
Perhaps I should have just let it wander off.