World Tree MUSH

    It's not always possible to tell when another Servant is nearby, but... sometimes they don't really hide themselves. It's a pretty modern city, but maybe a bit 'retro' from many of them. Enough that it has one of those grand old places that eventually die out with the advent of home entertainment. Namely: a video arcade!

    "HAH! Told you I could get it!" And exiting said arcade with a completely massive stuffed green dragon is a petite blond-haired girl in shorts and a crop top, looking smug at her prize. Don't ask how many quarters she had to use to manage to get the tickets to win this plush. It's the principle of the thing! Then again maybe there's some incredible Saber Skill that lets her succeed!

    Skee Ball EX or something.

    Lancelot, for his part, was simply taking a stroll. Now, perhaps a man in a suit in this part of town was striking enough, but he also carried what appeared to be a rather large walking cane on his left. The man sure looked healthy enough, but who could say? Stopping to check out each store as he went, he seemed equal parts awestruck child and dignified, almost butlerian, upper crust. This one electronics store in particular...

    ...happened to be across from a rather noisy arcade...

    ...caught his attention, his gaze scanning across all of the items inside, from a PDA to the latest in cellphone technology and more besides. "If we had possessed this technology... would things have been better? Or worse?" The purple-clad man wondered aloud, his thoughts hard to contain, as Knowledge gave him insight to what these things were, but his old spirit still took time to acclimate to the ideas.

    Almost. Almost, Saber passes by the well-dressed but otherwise nondescript man. Perhaps her sense of another Servant nearby twinges, or perhaps she actually recognizes him in the corner of her mind while distracted with other things. Whatever the reason, the blonde is toting along her new prize and passes right past Lancelot...

    Only to stop. Blink. Back up a few steps. Then squint oddly at the man murmuring to himself. With a little smirk, she clears her throat. "Well hey, you know what they say. My kingdom for a horse and all that."

    There's a similar sense in Lancelot. /Something/ causes the hand on the cane to grab it just a bit tighter. Muscles not used in a while tense for no discernable reason. Absently, his right hand rubs the back of his head, and he turns to see who spoke... and his jaw drops. Crop top. Shorts. But wait... it cannot be...

    This sentiment is echoed audibly. "It... cannot be... how are you here!?" Lancelot's mind races. /No helmet, but... or is it.../ Simultaneously, Lancelot gets the strong urge to fall to his knees in reverence and draw forth a sleeping blade of the lake to confront Evil Itself, but a combination of confusion and influence from Something Else stops him... but Lancelot has a horrible poker face...

    The confusion is so precious! Though this Saber doesn't appear to be too... sympathetic to it. Tucking the huge plushie to the side, she just starts laughing, almost a cackle! "Oh wow, the look on your face! Never thought I'd run into YOU out here!" She snickers wildly, then stops, suddenly realizing something. This could, in fact, be a danger.

    "Oh wow... you weren't summoned for a Grail War were you? I'm not involved in any of that crap! I'm on vacation! You looking for something?" She grins, "Maybe I could give you a hand, for old time's sake." Of course her attitude makes it VERY clear that she isn't Lance's liege, so whether she can be trusted or not is... suspect.

    It is that sarcasm that solidifies the image in Lancelot's mind. /Mordred/. Instantly, the Counter-Force provides information. In the span of an instant, faster than the light takes to show Mordred his pained face, Lancelot is crippled with vision. After his death, and the realm's fall. The Battle of Camlann. Artoria's fall.

    /Artoria/. His Liege. Betrayal. The feeling of his heart being torn from his chest. The quickest of looks, disdain, before Artoria cleverly hid her face... disdain, or was it pain? His fellows, surrounding the table, likely having included Mordred.

    /Guinevere/.

    Lancelot falls to one knee, despair threatening to overtake him. He manages to stammer out some words as the visions and memories threaten to overwhelm him. "Our world... danger. Brought from the Throne to find assistance..."

    The fact that Lancelot falls down like that is... not a surprise to Saber. Nor does she offer a hand up, or consoling words. Yeah, definitely Mordred. Neither does she take a hostile action though, and in fact frowns slightly.

    "Yeah, probably the same world as me then. Similar thing happened to me. Well, kinda." Mordred has a Master, after all, but no need to complicate things with that. Instead, the far more casual knight snorts, "And stand up, you're making a scene."

    Unlike Lancelot, she has no real regrets. Other than, well, losing the fight that killed her in the end. For the Knight of Knights, this is a painful reunion, but Mordred, like a petulant child, doesn't 'get' the pain.

    It takes the man a few moments. That flood of information, of... everything! That flood is crippling for a man like Lancelot. However, in short order, the walking stick is gripped, a man pulls himself up by the bootstraps, and quickly he is once again the Knight of the Lake in a suit. A handkerchief is produced, eyes are wiped, and a nose is cleaned as well, and before too long no one would know that anything had happened. Clearing his throat, he starts over.

    "Well. They have not told me that they sent others, and so I am loathe to trust you... on its face, of course." He shakes his head. "But I'd trust your blade over most. Do you work to save our world? Or..." He gestures with the cane. "...are such trinkets your main goal now?"

    Funny enough, THAT question makes Mordred make a funny face. She grimaces, hooking the plush under one arm and leaning against the nearby post. "Yeah there are others. I've run into a few. Even ran into Merlin once, if you can believe it." She opens her mouth, again, then shuts it, as if rethinking what she was saying... which means it must have been something REALLY weird, given how impulsive she is!

    After a moment she shrugs, "Not my goal, but I got summoned differently. A bunch of Magi summoned me. I'm just a trading piece I guess... the deal is my Master gets to use me as a Servant, and in return, my Master keeps any threats from their world out of ours. They aren't so bad and let me do what I want, but it's a little weird."

    That pause, more than anything, sends a bolt of fear through Lancelot. If there's something even MORDRED isn't saying, that in itself is saying something. He considers his words carefully, figuring either Mordred shared information impulsively, or she's working a trade for information and threw the first tidbit. /Even money either way/, he said to himself, but also figured if he wasn't quite allowed to speak freely, he wouldn't have the Skills that he did.

    "I do not quite understand it, but apparently, the Soul of our world summoned me itself." He makes a gesture of (WTF?) at this. "I do not quite get it, but it gives me the energy to work, and it sure beats the Throne. But how is it that you are so ensnared? The You I knew would never have accepted such a yoke."

    That's a good question, and Mordred actually pauses. It's a rare sight, but Lancelot HAS seen it before. Impulsive though she may be, she CAN think, and this is what she's doing now. "Yeah... I've seen it before but... I don't get that either. Can't say I'd refuse it though. Guess I can try to answer your question, a little."

    At least this has made clear she isn't itching for a fight, and she's looking kind of contemplative. "If you knew my Master, you'd understand," she finally settles on. "We get one another, at least a little. Even if she's WAY more loyal than I am." Not realizing she let a little slip there in her Master's gender, she goes on. "I'm not really allowed to say much about my Master though. And anyway, I don't want the world gone either! I mean, I wanted to rule Britain. Can't rule it if it's covered in giant spiders, right? So we're kind of on the same side this time."

    Lancelot rolls a Nat 20 on his Bluff check, picking up on the gender of Saber's Master without letting on that he did. In fact, he speaks in general terms, not willing to divulge the unearned point. "That... admittedly, feels better than it probably should." He shakes his head, chuckling ruefully at his statement. "If they are willing to meet another Servant, I would indulge. I have been Directed to gather allies." He practically pronounces the capital 'D'. 

    "I have spent so much time gathering myself and getting my feet underneath me that I have had scant time to put out feelers. I have met a few good-minded sorts, and at least one sort of Devil hunter that could be persuaded to help, but beyond that... well... you remember me. I fight. I am not Agravain, I am no tactician."

    Mordred can be abrasive sometimes, but right now she has no REASON to be, so Lancelot is going to get something very rare. She's going to give him a compliment of sorts. "Eh, I'm sure some tactician got summoned too. I doubt the world thinks like us, but if you're going to grab allies that are all 'help the poor innocents' and stuff, that's... kinda your thing. Sounds like it's a pretty good idea so far."

    She says it nonchalantly, as if not actually saying something nice about Lance, and continues on before it can be remarked upon. "You should see some of the stuff I've been asked to do sometime," she says. "I'm taking a break because my Master's world is kind of awful. Lots of crazy robots and junk. They aren't the nicest person and I was going to bail on them first chance I got, but then I figured out that everyone else is that much worse. There are some pretty bad people out here, so one of you heroic sorts seems like a good idea."

    Managing to not fall dead solely due to Knight of the Lake, Lancelot even actually blushes. "Alright, knock that off, you sound like an imposter." It's not /completely/ an insult, nor completely a joke. "Well, you know me. Oh, I can use one of those new phrases!" He strikes a bold pose. "As the kids say, I am always down to clown on some Evil!"

    Somewhere, a series of cymbals crash.

    Getting more serious, he shakes his head. "But seriously, we know how each other fights, and something tells me we still have a bit of the old tandem fighting in our muscles. If you need help, well... now you know I am around. I shall endeavor to not cramp your style."

    A little smirk hits Mordred, "Eh, close enough." She turns more serious, again, "But I may have to take you up on that. There are some kind of weird threats out here, and our world has some places in pretty bad shape. I don't get along with most hero-types these days, but I try to stay out of their way. But a lot of them don't like what my Master does, even if it isn't evil or anything."

    There's a subdued lack of confidence there, but Mordred waves off the cloud with another snickering laugh. "Yeah, other than that we're probably fighting the same sorts of things. It'd be fun to show off some of the old tactics, teach these newer knights what a REAL Knight can do, right?"

    Lancelot laughs, a genuine sound, one that likely has not erupted from his belly and face since a Very Long Time Ago Indeed, when tables were round and Camelot wasn't just a model. "Some of the fights I have been in... I cannot even..." He is taken with a different kind of laughter now, almost mocking those he speaks of, and a bit of the cocky, undefeated Knight comes out. "How these people have survived against these Evil things is beyond me. They must be very special... or lucky!"

    A firm tap of the walking cane on the ground helps Lancelot recover himself. "So, I have come into possession of... what is it... a cellular phone? I am told that they are able to speedily send messages across the lands. Would this be the best way to contact you, or should I look for you in that plushie palace over there?" He indicates the arcade with a gesture.

    "It's a prize I got from a competition, dammit!" Mordred sulks, shoving the dragon behind her self-consciously. "But yeah, some of them are strong but kind of weird. There's one that has an invisible people-eating familiar that follows her around. Kind of like a Servant but more violent." And if Mordred thinks they're violent, hoo boy!

    She also holds up her wrist. "I use this, but it has a number. Not sure how easy it'll work if we're far away, but you can always post a message with those Gardener sorts. My Master keeps tabs on their boards. Just don't use my real name, yadda yadda. Hell, I know one kid who has met Father. I haven't told him who they were, I guess Father didn't want them to know for some reason. I feel kinda bad for 'em." Wow, actual sympathy?

    Lancelot nods. "Probably best to work through the Gardeners. I am not hiding my identity, and so feel free to post messages to me directly. Or, well, we have plenty of references from the homeland that we could use." He looks around, shaking his head. "I suppose you never know who could be listening in, or watching from the shadows. Thankfully, so far, everything has tried to punch me in the face directly. None of that knife in the dark dung."

    He peers across the way, giving serious consideration to seeing what that sort of thing is all about, but also giving Mordred time to respond. Hey, maybe he'd be amazing at fighting games!

    Mordred nods, and rubs her chin. "Yeah... there are some of those. Be prepared for some weirdness. Like the foot-high assassin robot." She nods seriously, then jerks her thumb to the arcade. "Anyway, wanna try out Soul Calibur? Wonder if your sword skills translate to a video game." Given Lance's skills... probably, to what will be Mordred's chagrin.