［ＡＣＴＩＯＮ］☘ ｉｔ’ｓ ａ ｗｏｒｌｄ ｏｆ ｏｕｒ ｐａｓｔ ｗｈｅｒｅ ｔｈｅ ｌｅｇｅｎｄ ｓｔｉｌｌ ｌａｓｔｓ

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ A: While this maiden has been here all day, she hasn't thought to venture out until the sun had set. There's so much she's learned already. For example, with how short the days were and the chill in the air - that meant winter was coming in quick. With the strange salt in the breeze she was able to determine that she was on an island of some sort near an ocean. She might stand out when it comes to the other civilians as she wore sheets pulled from the hotel bed as a makeshift cloak, tightening it closer in between her petite fists.

Then it happens. Midnight strikes and the few individuals who littered the streets with brightly colored bags of green and red in their hands appear in strange coffins, leaving her to be the only one visible in her path. With the snowfall, her vision is obscured slightly.. but not enough to veil the large figure approaching rapidly. A normal woman might be frightened enough to flee, but this one in particular is Irish. Kicking up snow into it's face, she feints to the side in an attempt to run around it. Naturally, she gets knocked over by the Visceral Maya, sliding into a thicker bank of snow along the street. A shame she doesn't have a phone to call for help or anything of the sort.

B: After she's been rescued by insert amount of threads of people who choose to save her here, Gráinne will be entering whatever bar happens to be open past midnight with soaking wet sheets in her hand. Her own attire is fairly damp, but she doesn't seem to be concerned with it. ]

Comments

A; 1/2

[croibhristeoir]

Cu Chulainn--!

[A knight in immaculate white armor appeared before her, summoned by that familiar voice that cut through the cold night. The summoned knight raised his lance, electricity arching through the air to eliminate the Maya with a single strike. Months of training night after night were clearly not for nothing.]

[The Persona disappeared, replaced by the presence of a knight in black and green armor carrying two lances. He stood in silence for a moment or two, scanning the area for any other threats; when none appeared, he transferred both lances to one hand and extended the other to the woman on the ground.]

Are you alri--

[croibhristeoir]

[His voice died in his throat. He couldn't speak, couldn't move, and could only stare at the woman he had just saved.]

[Impossible. The woman that had thrown everything away for the sake of her love, the woman that had caused Diarmuid to turn his back on the knight to whom he had sworn loyalty...the woman he had fallen absolutely in love with.]

[She couldn't-...no, of course she could. If Fionn of all people could appear in this city, Diarmuid was sure anyone could.]

...Gráinne? [He barely managed to say that much, looking as if he was certain she would vanish into nothing.]

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ That name. Why does this familiar voice call out for a hero of legends told back at her home? The scene is difficult to make out in the heavy snowfall as she shifts her weight in the snow. A pounding in her head drowned the rest of the world out momentarily.

Enough that she's not certain she recognizes the voice that calls her name. With Diarmuid's passing a haunting one, she's sure she hear his voice from any man who addresses her in such a manner. Even if it wasn't him, they knew of her name, and therefore.. they could answer her questions regarding this place.

Yet, as her fingers took hold of his offered own, she knew. Even with blurred vision from the strike to her head and the snow clouding them, she knew. ]

No, this can't be. [ Denying his existence with that. ] The dead don't come back to life.

[croibhristeoir]

Gráinne-- [It really was her. There was no mistaking that hand in his own or the voice of the woman now standing before him.]

I'm not...I'm not dead. Not here. I can't believe you're really...here.

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

Don't speak my name as though you're truly him! [ Just like that, her hand is yanked away as she falters a couple steps back. ] How dare you approach me in a guise of this manner! I have done nothing to earn your cruelty, but you've done all you can to earn my ire! Now reveal your true self before I have your head hunted by Fionn's best!

[ Surely he's seen enough angry women in his lifetime to recognize that she's highly offended. ]

[croibhristeoir]

Gráinne, please--it's me, Diarmuid! I would not dare deceive you, least of all now after being separated from you for so long!

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ Not sure if trust... ]

If I were to believe any man who approached me in such a manner, I'd be dead. What proof do you have to offer? [ A simple glance at his weapons spoke a great deal more to her than anything he could say. ] Those weapons are a forgery.

[croibhristeoir]

They are substitutes, not forgeries; I've lost Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe. Please, tell me what I can do to convince you that I am who I claim to be.

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

There is nothing, for the true Diarmuid Ua Duibhne is dead.

B

[kindofademon.livejournal.com]

[Ryuunosuke's bar happens to be open past midnight. And he is working a late shift.]

Can I get you anything, miss? A drink or maybe a place to hang those up?

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ Yay booze! ]

Both please. [ Life is suffering and booze makes it all better. ] I'll need the strongest you have.

[kindofademon.livejournal.com]

We've got a clothesline in the back room for some reason. Beats me, but I'll take those for you. And one strongest drink we have coming right up.

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ Well, if someone is going to be nice.. she'll take advantage of it easily. Passing over the sheets, she'll turn to look towards the bar. ]

It doesn't look like much here.

[kindofademon.livejournal.com]

[He continues talking as he disappears briefly to hang the sheets.]

It's not much of a bar, considering every bar in the world. I've seen better when I've been traveling. But it's a good bar for the city, and it's popular. Not a bad place for me to have a job at, yeah? I shouldn't talk bad about my place of employment.

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

Why not? If you don't like something, you should be able to state so. It isn't as though your employer can lop off your head, right?

[kindofademon.livejournal.com]

[Back~ And pouring that drink~]

That's illegal in this day and age. But all the same I'm grateful to have a job. It's good for me to be reasonably polite about it. Besides, it's really not that bad.

Here you are, miss. [One glass of the strong stuff.]

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ Good, it's rude to talk to someone when they're not there to judge their facial expressions. ]

Just because something is illegal doesn't mean people stop doing it. [ Picking up the glass and going right to town. Without a bitter look or anything even. ] Well, I'm grateful for your service.

[ Placing the now empty glass down. ]

I'll take another then.

B as in "jack B the opposite of nimble"

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

[One of the downsides to modern architecture, Lancer had decided, was the lack of a proper hearth in most buildings. Certainly, the electric heating and cooling systems of the era were handy and generally far more reliable, but there was just something that felt right about having a roaring fire you could sit near to.]

[It would certainly help the poor girl who'd entered the bar dry off quicker, at any rate. Lucky day for Lancer to be on-the-job, he supposed, not sure how hospitable all his other coworkers would be in this case.]

'Evening, miss. What can I do for ya?

[So hey, guess who probably speaks with an Irish accent? You'd think it'd be this guy, right?]

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

[ Oh hey, a fellow Irishman. She can get down with this. Not literally, of course, because she has a husband who sorta would axe people if they so much look at her in a longing manner and another husband who sorta would ask people nicely to kindly fuck off. Shivering after leaving another bar (Ryuunosuke is just too friendly, alright?), she ducked into the closest one away from it.

Which meant hello new Irish pal. ]

Your voice. [ Sorry, she's just going to be surprised. ] You too hail from that country, yes?

[ It is an Irish woman. Run away, Lancer. Your E-Rank luck stat can't compete. ]

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

[He'll blink and grinand forego any chance of having "pattern recognition".]

A lot of people have roots there in this country, I'm told. As for me -- well, not born and raised exactly, but close enough.

[Fairy mounds. How do they work.]

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

Your name then.

[ That's not a request. ]

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

Most people around here just call me Lancer. Not a name, a title of sorts. [Not that he wasn't usually known by a nickname anyway.]

[A shrug.] Been thinking of throwing it away more and more as of late, but I'll get to that when I get to it.

And you?

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

You do battle with spears then. [ An easy conclusion to make. ] Why not get to it now? It seems strange to introduce one's self just by their title.

I go by the name Grainne.

[athngabla.livejournal.com]

Ah, before I came here I was part of a little event where secrecy was greatly valued. Even your name was taboo to give out freely. I suppose I'm still getting used to not having that kind of geas.

[Not that it was a true geas per se, but it was a close enough approximation that the Irishwoman would hopefully be able to make the connection.]

Cu Chulainn. Pleased to make your acquaintance.

[Wait, did she just say Grainne? He'd have to make a note to ask if she was that Grainne later. So much as he knew it wasn't an uncommon name, and yet... Nah. That kind of coincidence would be unreal.Which meant it was assured]

[chroimilis.livejournal.com]

Ah, a geas was it? How unfortunate.

[ Her eyes widen slightly at his name. The Hound of Ulster standing before her?

... Serving her and others at a bar? ]

This may seem unmannerly of me, but did you just say your name was Cu Chulainn?