CATHARSIS is a non-canon OC fate/series site, loosely based off of fate/apocrypha. Knowledge of the fate/series canon is helpful, but knowledge of fate/apocrypha isn't needed!
In the short period of time after she'd been summoned, Hawwah had still yet to fully acclimate to the strangeness of the modern world. Everything about this "civilization" was so different from what she'd known, and if it was up to her she would have simply avoided it altogether.
However, things weren't as simple as that. Apart from having to have an understanding of the lay of the land, her supposed allies, the other Masters and Servants of Red team, were arriving today. She was used to operating alone, and this wasn't about to change any time soon, but knowing those whom she was currently not expected to kill might provide some minor tactical benefit.
She was not about to walk right up and introduce herself to them however. Hawwah instead found herself watching from afar, situated stealthily on the roof of a building across from the one the Masters she had followed would be staying in. She was not an expert reader of persons, but Hawwah immediately felt a sense of dread upon laying eyes on those who were expected to reclaim the Grail.
They seemed a motley sort at best. There was even one among their number that appeared to be little more than a child, and one that seemed to be practically falling asleep on his feet at that. The sight turned Hawwah's stomach for more reasons than she cared to admit.
Turning her attention away from the Master's, Hawwah concentrated on the Servants. She could not see any, but she was able to vaguely sense the presence of some at least. She was confident though that even out of her element she would be able to conceal herself from them and leave without incident.
What she had failed to take into account was her absolutely terrible luck.
Post by Paris of Troy on Aug 20, 2014 16:14:50 GMT
Marcos was exhausted, and in his current state probably needed to be escorted to his room to make sure that he didn't conk out somewhere inconvenient before he made it there. As his Servant, it made the most sense for the Archer of Red to carry out the task. Still, he was a bit busy at the moment.
As the Servant with the best eyes, he was scanning the town for any funny business that was about to happen. Normally a boon to the Archer class against the others, this time it was being put to use for the good of a team. Paris didn't mind it much, he was used to being a team player. Besides, if he didn't have his eyes peeled, he wouldn't have caught a glimpse of what he did.
Yowza!
Up on the roof, there was an extraordinarily beautiful lady. Not really hot in the normal way, she couldn't hold a candle to Helen in that regard. But even from this far away, there was a certain...elegance probably wasn't the right word. But a certain something that made Paris sure he had to go up and have a word with her. She had to have been a Servant...so it's not like he was shirking any duties by scoping it out. Of course not.
After making sure Marcos gets to his room, he heads back to the elevator and takes it the rest of the way up. No sense doing anything crazy like running up the side of a building if he doesn't have to. When he makes it to the top, he steps back into the cool night air and heaves a sigh. Her presence wasn't immediately obvious, and he begins to look around the rooftop.
"Where are you, beloved of Aphrodite? Do not hide yourself, I merely wish to talk!"
For a moment, Hawwah felt as though she sensed a Servant approaching. But any fear she might have felt over this was fleeting, as it was unlikely that any Servant nearing would actually be head towards her location.
Except the elevator doors leading out onto the roof opened, depositing a lone passenger. She recognized his as a man she had seen on the streets below, and now, more importantly, as a Servant. Apparently he must have had some fashion of Presence Concealment of his own. But this was still acceptable, after all it was practically impossible that he realized she was here.
"Where are you, beloved of Aphrodite?"
...damn. As much as she wished she could just stay quiet and hope he went away, doing so could possibly lead to a dangerous misunderstanding later. And if nothing else it would help to have at least one of the other Red Servants know what she looked like. She'd just have to get this out of the way fast.
Allowing herself to be seen, she stepped into the open. "You leave your Master undefended to make idle conversation?" she said with a derisive tone, hoping the subtle indication that he should not be here talking to her was enough.
Just as he'd hoped for, the beautiful woman steps out of the shadows, and into the...slightly less dark shadows. Well, here was his chance to make his move. At least Paris thought it was, but the woman delivers a stinging remark. He defends himself easily, however.
"Nah, it's no worry. We're all a team here. I'm leaving my Master in the care of the other Servants, and I'm gonna be stationed up here. See, I'm Archer, so I'd have the best chance of spotting anyone trying to sneak on our little hideaway here." Not quite what actually happened, but it makes sense. He'll ask the other Servants to actually do that, it's not all that often he has a legitimate good idea on the tactical side of things.
"Really though, I think the question is what you're doing here. I didn't want to leave one member of our little team ungreeted. Especially one I could tell from all that distance away was something special." He was laying the flattery a little bit thick, but if he was going to break through this one at all, he couldn't hold back at all...it was a battle as intense as any fight to the death. At least, it felt that way to him.
"Besides, me? I'd get lonely up here all by myself. I'll put up with it if that's what I've gotta do, I'm a Heroic Spirit. But I wouldn't wish it on anyone, no matter how tough. So I thought I'd head up and chat."
"Well we can both be thankful that I am not you, can't we?" Hawwah's words were harsh, both in tone and content. She had not fully ascertained this new Servant's intentions, but she understood well enough that he was attempting to build a rapport, and so responded to it as she always did, with bitter aggression.
And she wasn't done yet. She had the sickening feeling that this sort of behaviour needed to be stamped out completely now.
"And here I thought that Archers were expected to be independent. Perhaps it is natural for you to rely on others to support you, but an Assassin must know how to stand alone, or else quickly find themselves with a blade in their back." To hammer home her not-quite-threat, she brought her right hand into view, in which was grasped a knife seemingly made of bone and as primitive looking as she was.
Paris raises his hands, trying to calm the lady down. Sheesh, she was definitely a prickly one...was it something he said? "Fair enough. I doubt even I could take having to deal with two of me running around. Guess my little attempt to be friendly didn't work out, huh?"
He wasn't ready to give up, though. It was just time to up the ante. Leaning back on the doorway down, he looks up at the sky. "It's a beautiful day today. Not that that really needs to be said, it's rather obvious to anyone who has eyes. I could say the same about you, but again, it doesn't need to be said to be true."
After he's rebuffed again, he starts to get defensive. Not the best thing to do in the situation, but even he had a limit to the abuse we could take. "I'm just adapting to the situation, honey. Like it or not, we're going to be working together. If you don't want to be a part of that...that just means I'll need to keep trying. I've been called extraordinarily persistent, so you shouldn't just write that off."
As for her waving her knife in front of him, he shrugs. "If you're trying to scare me, I'm not sure you're going about it in the right way. I've also been called a bit of a dullard, so you might have to try and scare me off in a way I can understand if you're really serious about all this knife-waving business."
He pouts a bit. "I don't know why you're being so unreasonable...but nothing worth anything comes easy, does it?"
Hawwah let out something between a sigh and a growl, but withdrew the knife. As annoying as Archer was being, she understood there was some truth to what he said: he was an "ally", and he would be more useful to her alive than dead.
For now at least. When it came time to claim the Grail for herself, that may well change, and currently she hoped that Archer would be the first person to stand in her way. But such wishful thinking was quickly brushed aside.
"'Extraordinarily persistent'... yes, it would appear so. Though why is a mystery for the ages." Truly, she could not bring herself to understand why he was being so persistent. Certainly she could see why someone would try and ensure they knew their ally. But striking up a friendship with one did not seem necessary, and when it was one who offered nothing but vitriol and anger in response to such, it bordered on the insane. Why would such a trivial thing be so important to him...?
And then suddenly it hit her. It was as though everything he had said was presented to her again in new light.
'...beloved of Aphrodite...'
'...something special...'
'...honey...'
Oh no.
He was not attempting to befriend her.
He was attempting to court her.
Hawwah's eyes widened in shock, almost imperceptibly. More noticeable however was how she found herself backing away from Archer just slightly, as though she had suddenly realized that he was somehow incredibly dangerous.
Post by Paris of Troy on Aug 29, 2014 17:53:58 GMT
Paris smiles as his companion on the rooftop puts the knife away. "Well, now that that's out of the way, hopefully we can move on to more important things." Honestly he didn't understand why she was acting so mean in the first place. They did need to work together, and as much as she could not be interested in his little attempt at romance, she could have just said so instead of spitting at him.'
Her next attempt to belittle him only makes him laugh. "Well, I'm not so sure about that. I'd say I have very good reason for what I'm doing." Whether or not she'd agree was a complete tossup, but hey, compliments were compliments.
Unfortunately, just as Paris thought he was making a bit of progress, the lady backs away from him, as if he scared her. Confused and obviously so, he steps a bit forward to make up the distance. "Is something wrong?" He asks, completely oblivious to what the obvious answer was.
He'd followed. Oh damn it all he was... how could he... did he really think...?
Hawwah did her best to calm the jumbled thoughts racing through her head, to focus on just the facts and not let the implications of the situation affect her.
She was having moderate success. At best.
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong." Despite her words, she could not stop herself from taking another step back. She was worried that this would lead into a cycle of her backing away as he approached, but she honestly only became aware of her body's movement after it had happened. Instinct drove her back, away from this... threat which she had not experienced for quite some time.
"Whatever your reasons, they do not matter," she said, trying to keep her voice as level as it had been at the beginning of the conversation. When she found she could not accomplish this, she instead decided to mask her discomfort by laying on more aggression in her tone.
"We are allies of convenience at best. I have no interest in making friends, or anything else for that matter."
Paris blinks as she answers him. "Nothing's wrong? Then why do you seem so....tense? It seems like an odd thing to be when there's nothing wrong, you should really relax." For the life of him, he just couldn't understand what was going through this lady's head. First she seemed like she wanted to kill him, and now it was almost as if she was afraid of him! Why couldn't things just make sense?
Almost as soon as she takes a step back, he takes another step back. After a bit, he notices what happens, and laughs. "Well, isn't this funny! It's almost as if we're dancing. You know, if you want to dance I'd be happy to, that sounds like fun!"
The next things out of her mouth seemed to be firmly set against him, but there was a certain unsteadiness about them, something Paris took as that she wasn't being wholly sincere. "Are you so sure about that? I think my reasons matter very much indeed. I'd be crazy to talk to someone who, no offense meant, seems like they'd bite my head off for trying. And yet, I'd be even crazier to miss this chance due to cowardice."
As her aggression heightens, he can still feel that same unsteadiness, even if it's masked almost completely by her hostility. "I don't believe that, Assassin. And, well, I don't think that you believe that either." He scratches his head. "Well, that might be wishful thinking. But I do think there was a reason fate gave us a chance to meet like this, and I pray that you could see this chance through similar eyes as mine." While he kept his delivery cool and his expression earnest, but he was beginning to sweat on the inside. This was some of his best material here!
Hawwah's eyes hardened at the mention of dancing. She didn't care for mockery, and despite the fact that it was clear Archer did not mean it as such that is how she decided to interpret it. She said nothing, because as much as she didn't like it, mockery was the least of the sufferings that she had deserved to endure.
"Do not presume to know what I believe, Archer," she spoke immediately after he'd voiced his suspicions. She was glad at least that he realized the folly of this and retracted his words. But his talk of fate put a bad taste in her mouth. Perhaps it was different for him, but to her fate was not an impersonal force; He had a face, and a name.
The situation had taken her off guard. This Grail War was nothing like what she had been expecting. A child as a Master and a fellow Servant attempting to court her, and now with her thoughts on One whom she had never wanted to think too much upon again, she found her expression softening slightly. Which, given that she had a perpetual glare ordinarily simply meant her face inched more closely towards neutrality than anything immediately welcoming, but unfortunately for her it was likely the amorous Archer would take this as a sign of progress.
