felldenlogs | Catch-up/all! (closed prompts for now)

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Catch-up/all! (closed prompts for now)

WHO: Saber & others!
WHAT: various prompts
WHERE: places
WHEN: End of October - November
WARNINGS: some late Wendigo nonsense (violence/gore), will add more as needed.

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( CW: Wendigo madness, body horror, gore and general monstrosities in the threads below. )

[ the term formidable does not even begin to describe the level of severity with which the Wendigo operates. it is a creature Arturia would not wish her worst enemy to face. a bloodthirsty, rabid, unrelenting opponent. one that cares little for self preservation and is well equipped to sustain itself regardless. it attacks violently, swiftly, and shows no fear- not unlike a dragon. she's slain one of those before, but not without great risk. her battle with the Wendigo is no different, well honed battle instinct guiding her through the motions. she manages to deal a fair amount of damage, nevertheless the Wendigo seems undeterred, naturally resilient and the length at which this battle has been drawn out is slowly wearing Saber thin. if she could just get close enough to pierce the heart, surely that would stop the beast? or at the very least, slow it down.

in a last ditch effort to get this over with she lunges, sword in hand and aims for a fatal blow once within striking distance... but her target contorts, and her holy blade instead cuts through the bone monster's arm like a hot knife through butter. the creature releases a deafening howl, it's arm flung aside and into the snow. with the creature injured, Arturia assumes the upper hand and readies herself for a follow up attack- only to be caught off guard as something hard and forceful encircles her waist and lifts her high into the air-]

Impossible!

[- before slamming her hard into the cold ground, snow flying every which way upon impact. while her armor protects her body, there is nothing to protect her head as it smashes into the dirt with enough force to crack a mortal's skull. luckily, she's a fair bit more durable than that.

hefted into the air once more, it's unclear how it happened- but the reality is that the arm she's sure she'd lopped off seconds prior seems to have regrown anew and has her trapped within it's bony clutches.

the Wendigo is determined to make a dent- literally. it's grip tightens around her torso with bone crushing force, molding the hard cut iron of her chest plate like putty as it begins to weaken, it's once rigid structure now malformed beneath the unbelievable pressure. with a horrifying CREAK her armor cracks, indenting against her torso and jutting into her ribcage. the sickening crackle of bones snapping is quick to follow, together with Saber's pain-filled cry as the monster attempts to grind her into dust. blood spurts from her mouth, and she grits her teeth through the pain, using every ounce of energy she has left to attempt to angle her sword at the beast's heart in hopes of freeing herself.... but her fast dwindling strength and rapidly blurring vision don't allow her the means necessary to execute her attack. it would seem she's likely done for, at this rate...]

Edited 2019-11-30 17:06 (UTC)

[ you would not wish this on your worst enemy, Saber? it would seem as though the moment has come to see whether that opinion will hold true.

in the tenuous grip between the seconds Saber's vision blurs and the darkening curtain of rapidly descending death, mere moments if not seconds remaining, the pitch black sky above suddenly brightens with a golden curtain; brilliant circles -- one, two, three, for, five -- gape like opening mouths, shooting a sudden onslaught of blades. with Saber so firmly in the creature's grip, there is no mistaking the high level of archery skill necessary to ensure that she is not punctured; one sword pierces the arm which holds her so tenaciously, giving her the freedom to drop limply to the ground, and another pierces the creature's head; a third slices through the neck, all but decapitating it once more.

only a stringy chunk of bone and muscle remains, causing the beast's head to hang back, dangling down in a manner Gilgamesh would find extraordinarily amusing were this not so fearsome a situation, the likes of which even he is forced to acknowledge. the Gate maims, a deliberate insult to this ugly, loathesome monstrosity, but even its lights are rapidly swallowed by the shadowing dark which the Wendigo brings with it. but as the Wendigo topples backwards, momentarily stunned and releasing its quarry, Gilgamesh does not hesitate, does not goad or mock as he would typically do. rather, as soon as its body is directly within striking range and not impeded by Saber's crushed form between them, he pulls forth his weapon Ea, that which he has deliberately held back, and ribbons of red light and heat release. a burst of energy sends the Wendigo backwards, crashing it through the trees. not relenting, Gilgamesh continues to let the sword of rupture release those glorious, shattering whorls of energy and mana -- fortunate indeed that he has a Master here -- as he quickly crosses the distance to Saber.

the King of Heroes does not kneel down, does not lower himself to cradle her body as she lies heaving upon the snow. he stands over her, eyes still lingering on their foe, his gaze only dropping once, fleetingly. he exhales, a thin white breath in the frozen air, as though he were still a living king, his shoulders moving with the force of the motions.

with all the tone of one of his station in life, Gilgamesh says -- ]

Rise, King of Knights. It is not for you to die here.

[ in any other situation, he would add, and it goes without saying: you are my rival, and it is only for me to lay you so low. ]

Edited (typos ahoy) 2019-11-30 20:08 (UTC)

[although he is a MASSIVE pain in her ass, Arturia would not directly refer to Gilgamesh as her worst enemy, though that knowledge may come as a shock to him (and literally everyone else).

it's sudden, the shift in power, her body crumpling to the snow covered earth once more- free of the monster's life squeezing grip. hunched over on her hands and knees she fights for air, suffocating within the tin cage of her fractured chest piece. with a strangled gasp her armor dissipates and she sinks deeper in the snow, breaths ragged and chest heaving as her blood drips down, soaking through pure white in splotches of bright crimson. the cold air claws at her crushed windpipe, burning all the way down. everything feels raw- her body fragile like a sheet of glass that's been cracked and it's only a matter of time before it shatters entirely. it feels as though even the slightest movement would threaten to dissolve her entire existence and she'd disappear on the wind as her essence faded away into nothingness.

'Rise, King of Knights. It is not for you to die here.'

that's right. she can't let it end like this. there's still something more she has to do- something of importance she must accomplish- has to grab hold of it with her own two hands just as she had that day when she stood in that grassy plain and reached for Caliburn's hilt---

she raises her eyes, the sight of the monster as it's ushered backwards into the darkness by the oppressive waves of energy emitted from EA. it's power is enough to cause Saber's limbs to tremble, the sheer difference in their power level with her in this crippled, masterless state is rattling.

she would not dare to expect a kind hand from him- something like this is more help than she could have imagined he might offer her. after all, what was she to him in this place apart from a strange, somewhat nostalgic acquaintance he couldn't quite recall having encountered in their world prior. sure, he'd taken an interest in her here just as he had before, but she wouldn't know how to define their interaction in simple words apart from two not-quite-strangers. but this changes things. this puts her in his debt, and she's not sure she's alright with that... but for the moment she has no choice but to accept it.

rising up onto one knee proves a daunting task in her current state, but she pushes herself regardless, pausing to gather her strength as she attempts the seemingly impossible task of standing. once upright it takes every fiber of her being not to howl with the pain of her injuries, biting it back with a grimace as her body sways and her vision shakes. she maintains her balance despite this, clutching her side with one hand as blood seeps through her pale fingers.

she doesn't know what to say, doesn't know where to begin- eventually settling on the topic of the readily available scapegoat- the Wendigo he'd just swatted off like a giant house fly.]

That won't deter it for long...

[her other hand still clutches her sword, Excalibur's shine dimming as the seconds tick past and Saber's blood trickles down.]

[ in this dire situation, Gilgamesh's eyes remain fixed on the creature; he has heard it has some weakness to fire, and EA, at least, emits bursts of heat -- fortunate for them both, as he can hold it at bay at least long enough for them to formulate a plan of escape. so preoccupied is he with the battle at hand that he spares Saber his gaze only after she has risen, cradling her wounded form. though kindness does not reach his eyes and they are cold with that red tyrant's gaze, there is something about the way he looks at her. it is altogether true that here she is nothing more than a nostalgic stranger who strikes him with some sense of curious memory, but he had loved her once, or believed to his core that he did, in his own deeply twisted way; he had looked at her with all of the possessiveness inherent in his being since the world began. not only that, but Saber is a King, and even if Gilgamesh will never acknowledge another King as his equal, for her to perish at the teeth and claws of so wretched a foe would be an unacceptable outcome. ]

Indeed. [ he simply murmurs the word, obviously displeased but not whatsoever resigned. ] It seems we have no choice but to flee.

[ the words are bitter on his tongue. for two of their stature to simply run ... yet Gilgamesh has spent the duration of the night on this battlefield, and he knows what the outcome would be if they remained. ]

Yet, first, I ... no ... [ there is that fragment of a pause, hesitant still, but -- ] ... we, must strike that creature properly. Give me your hand, Saber, and I shall lend you the power of the King of Heroes.

[ he closes his eyes for that heartbeat, brows furrowing as he reaches out to the once and future king who stands in this shattered state, panting over her sword, her glory temporarily tainted. ]

Edited 2019-12-06 02:04 (UTC)

[retreat would be the most reasonable option, even a King knows when she is beat- but... the idea of leaving that monster to reap terror on another innocent isa tough pill to swallow.

Saber exhales, breath fogging in front of her in the frigid night air. her dress soaked with a mixture of blood and snow, chills her to the bone and she shudders in the same breath. she's in no shape to fight, in no shape to run should the Wendigo pursue, what can she possibly hope to accomplish like this on her own?

but the fact remains, she's not alone.

calling someone like Gilgamesh an ally is worrisome at the very least. it's not an ideal situation by any means, but her options are limited at the moment and if she hopes to survive the night she has only one choice. he offers his hand, and Saber stares at it, weighing the consequences that will undoubtedly follow. if she thought she could refuse him and soldier on, she would. but she knows her body too well, even a servant has limitations, especially one without a proper mana source.

swallowing back her pride her grip on Excalibur's hilt tightens, holding herself upright with the blade as she takes the hand that is offered, solemnly conceding her consent to his aid.]

If you've strength to lend me, then I accept it graciously. For the sake of this battle, I cannot allow things to end here.

[ although Saber is not the type to take solace in such matters, the fact remains that this is scarcely easier for Gilgamesh. after all, to fight alongside another, especially a Servant who he is primed to see as an enemy in the context of their wars, goes against every fiber of his natural instinct as both a heroic god-king and as a man who has dedicated himself to the solitude of standing above others.

whatever the nature of Gilgamesh's obsession with or interest in this woman, however one might describe it, it has always been fundamentally proprietary in nature, certainly not that of a companion in arms; he feels the same hesitance she does in this instance, though borne from different causes. yet if they are both creatures shaped to do battle, then they must necessarily know the value of living to fight another day. yes, even Gilgamesh. sometimes.

besides, and all the more significantly, he has a hapless Master whom he must safeguard. that fact alone decreases a little of his absolute rashness at a time such as this. ]

As expected of the noble King of Knights.

[ and, as expected of Gilgamesh, he cannot quite keep a certain scoffing tone from those words, especially when remarking on that "gracious" nobility of hers -- nor does he try to censor that undercurrent to his words.

yet, for now, to her mercy, he says no more. the gold armor of his fingers curl roughly over Saber's, a touch as harsh as the weather on this night; as he also exhales, gold pulses between them, a sudden brightness that fills her veins, sweet and rich as honey, intoxicating as liquor to another Servant. Gilgamesh watches Saber's expression as much as he can under the circumstances, while still trying to hold that beast at bay, curious how her body will receive this gift, and curious to see what use she shall make of that holy sword. ]

[SHE HAS SO MANY REGRETS ALREADY!!!

but, the moment his mana breaches her fingertips is enough to dull the pounding disapproval in her head, her body soaking it up eagerly in her injured state. it's like breathing new life into an empty shell, and the pain of her injuries subdues into a low roar as the warm hum of magic flows through her veins. it is a relief, and an added burden all at once- given the nature of their relationship.

she can't think about that right now. she'll do what she must, in this situation. even if that means accepting this man's help. whether it is sincere on his part or he harbors a hidden agenda, she can't be sure. though she's almost certain it will come back to bite her in the ass somewhere down the line. it's simply a matter of when.

Saber closes her eyes, allowing the wave of magical energy to wash over her form, practically pulsing with newfound strength. she's not going to let it go to waste, unearthing her blade and holding Excalibur upright. when her eyes reopen, her form shrouded in a golden aura, they are rife with determination. she stands tall again, her morale seemingly having returned tenfold.]

We shall strike it together.

[ so once again this woman who was heralded as the ideal king of the masses, of Britannia, finds her legendary strength and resolve. ah, but then, it never truly left, did it? even as she lay in a crumpled heap, bloody and utterly overwhelmed, Saber never did know the meaning of giving up or giving in. one might say it is a rather delusional quality, one which contributed to her downfall in life and shall no doubt make this Fellden a struggle as well, but this trait of her character is one which Gilgamesh finds naturally mesmerizing. at her regained prowess and poise, he smiles in that rather vicious way she is all too familiar with; it would be a lie to say he does not feel some excitement, some pleasure in seeing her both crushed and raised again, this powerful duality of the warrior maiden, the never-yielding spirit of the King.

even with Gilgamesh's loan of mana, Saber cannot use her Noble Phantasm so long as she does not have a Master. that inhibits them, especially so far as attacks from a distance are concerned. were he able to use his vault freely, this would be much easier, but he too suffers from restrictions, and EA even has its limitations now. as Saber correctly predicted, Gilgamesh is unable to hold the Wendigo at bay indefinitely -- it arises once more, and quickly -- ]

Saber ...

[ Gilgamesh breathes her name with unusual starkness, all leering aside for the moment. even prepared as they are, the Wendigo is fast, faster even than he expected. already recovering, and with EA's power guttering out, in need of his Master's mana, it will be moments, perhaps seconds before it reaches them in leaps and bounds, and then, then they have no choice --

wordlessly, Gilgamesh reaches into his vault and exchanges blades, pulling out a sword which, at first glance, appears far more conventional. only it glitters with unusual sharpness, like moonlight and stars. there really is barely any time for what he has in mind, but he guides her fingers over his as he grips the hilt. ]

We must strike together, indeed, but first, you my must ready my hand. As soon as it closes that distance, we must strike its limbs. Quickly.

[ it will not be lost on her, of course, that as an Archer, he is not at all comfortable with this close combat fighting, especially not against a foe where minor hesitation could make such a difference in the outcome, and so Gilgamesh looks to Saber with an atypical degree of expectation at this time. she is after all the master swordsman between them. ]

[ How things like this end up happening to him, he just doesn't know.

When Gilgamesh (for that is the golden man's name who helped him very loudly just a few days ago), deposited Saber in his arms, of course, he was extremely confused, indignant, but also very concerned. The latter ends up winning out over the other two because he is caring soul, first and foremost. She's wounded, and that has to take priority over other things.

Carrying her as far away from the battle as possible, Zack finds a small village nearby that's already been protected with runes. There's space in a small shed for them to stay just for the night, and once he's laid her down on some hay, he begins casting Cure. It's not as effective as he'd like, but using it to heal himself during this mess has helped increase it potency.

He can't do it all at once, but he starts with her head injury. The ribs will be next, and the cuts and scrapes....well, if he doesn't have anything left by then, there's always bandages. ]

[the world fades in slowly- and yet all at once in one painful gasp for air.

seagreen eyes snap open, blown wide in the pale moonlight. Saber rights herself in a panic- before crying out as she's immediately sent recoiling back against the hay in crippling pain. there's something stabbing- a searing, white hot pain that dulls the senses to anything but the unbearable flame wreaking havoc across her entire torso. groping for her ribcage she's alarmed to find her armor amiss, pale fingers sinking against wet, bloodied fabric where iron and steel should be.

ah, that's right- the Wendigo had attempted to crush her in it's grip, which resulted in her chest piece caving inward. likely her armor dissipated due to her lack of mana, or at the very least her inability to maintain it in her current state. not that it did her any good, that Wendigo very nearly squeezed the life out of her...

the Wendigo--!!!

Saber's fearful gaze sweeps the room, trailing first across the old wooden ceiling and frantically searching her surroundings as her vision fades in and out.... until it lands on a pair of bright blue eyes-- say, doesn't she know those eyes?

gradually, her caretaker's face comes into focus.]

Zack?? [her voice is hoarse, gritting her teeth through the pain.] How...???

[about a hundred different questions flood her head at once. how did she get here? how did he find her? how long had she been out? perhaps most importantly: what happened to the Wendigo?]

[ Zack just barely manages to catch her by the shoulders so she doesn't just flop back down hard against the hay. He was expecting her to wake up, but not so...violently. ]

Whoa, easy. You're still really hurt.

[ He hasn't even gotten to her ribs, but at this point, he's not sure if he can heal everything up at once. Seeing her eyes darting around, he puffs out a quiet breath. ]

We're in a small village now. Away from the battlefield.

[ I carried you, is on the tip of his tongue to say, but he refrains. Surveying the injuries that remain, he settles back on his heels so she doesn't feel so crowded. His voice remains soft and even. ]

Rest a minute, and I'll try to patch up your side.

[ hurt is a bit of an understatement, but she's not apt to argue. wounds like these, while some may consider life threatening, are fairly inconsequential for a Servant. however, a Servant without a Master is a different story entirely. her body is practically like that of a mortals at this point, though she still retains some measure of durability even then. still, it's best not to push herself in her current state, even she knows that much. so she does as she's told, and remains at rest... physically, at least. her mind is still racing in frantic circles, trying her best to recall the events leading up to her current predicament.]

The Wendigo I'd been fighting... was it slain?

[ There is a reason Zack uses 'hurt' in this instance. For one, he knows enough about human tolerance for pain and injury that a normal person wouldn't have survived Saber's wounds. Or at least not long enough to be healed like he's been doing for her. Her resilience is on part with a SOLDIER's (perhaps better) which is an odd thing to realize looking at that slight frame.

He can ask questions about that later, but for now, he'll settle for insisting that she rest. ]

I'm not sure... I don't really think those things are killable at all.

[ Satisfied that she's not going to sit bolt upright again, Zack sits down a little closer so he can hold the Cure materia near her side. It starts to glow, warm and bright, and Saber will feel it as the deeper tissues start to knit back together and heal. He has to go slowly, lest he burn himself out, but progress is progress. ]

You were injured, and then your husband asked me to take you somewhere safe.

[ And here they are. ]

... I am afraid of what may yet come to pass should you be right about that.

[her efforts hardly seemed to deter the monster- if anything it treated her like the annoying buzz of a fly in it's ear, nothing more than a nuisance. whoever it's after, they're still out there. it's only a matter of time before it tracks them down and if it cannot be stopped then...

her eyes catch the light, peering down to the strange green orb at her side. magic. her body has been starved of its supply for so long now that just the sight of it is dizzying. it's not too difficult to discern what he's doing, and she silently notes that his mana signature is quite strong, like that of a well practiced mage. however, simply because one possesses magic or practices it, does not make them a true mage.

the deep blue fabric of her dress is entirely saturated with blood, clinging to her torso like a second skin. her flesh is marred with deep gashes and scrapes, a mixture of injuries from the Wendigo and the fractures in her discarded armor having cut into her skin. the internal damage is severe, with more than a few fractured ribs and a handful of them having shattered entirely. she shouldn't be able to retain consciousness in this state- at least not without screaming in pain throughout the treatment. instead she's silent, her expression revealing only moderate discomfort as Zack slowly knits her back together with his craft.

it's not until he makes that last remark that her face twists with visible pain.]

Husband???

[EXCUSE??? WHO DAT BE?? ]

The good news is the runes do help to keep them away so we can probably outlast this.

[ Neria told him it wasn't going to last for a long period of time so he's just going to trust her on that one.

Focused as he is on healing her, he almost misses the grimace on her face when he mentioned the 'h' world. Looking up, he seems entirely perplexed by her reaction. ]

Your husband. [ A beat. ] Gilgamesh?

[ He's starting to look dubious now. ]

He said you were his wife...

Edited 2019-12-06 01:01 (UTC)

[surviving the night really should be her number one priority right now... but all she can think about is how long she has to wait until she's in good enough shape to get back out there.

listen, she's smart but sometimes she can behave like a dumb- especially when there are other lives in danger.

if this is going to be the topic of conversation on the road to recovery, she'd rather spend it unconscious. is her current suffering not enough??

she scoffs, which turns out to be a lot more painful than she'd anticipated as her chest heaves and she clenches her teeth.]

I am no man's wife- and I will never be his.

[ ...well. There is definitely some history there, and from the sound of it, none of it's good. Zack's brow wrinkles with confusion for a moment (not so much over her ire as why the hell any man would claim a woman as his wife when she, in fact, was no such thing) before he lets out a sigh. ]

I guess I should have seen that one coming.

[ Gilgamesh was....a very strange sort, to put it mildly, so he probably should have been more skeptical of that claim when the other made it. At the time, there just wasn't much room to question.

Looking back down at her wounds, he keeps working on her side, Cure still aglow in his hand. ]

Sorry for the mix-up.

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Catch-up/all! (closed prompts for now)

October Event Part two.

(closed) ➠ Gilgamesh. ( cw: gore )

Y HALO BAE

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(closed) ➠ Saber.

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