Biting the Bullet

[Xenophon]

[Morning, Day 2]

Xenophon, heroic spirit called forth from the Throne of Heroes, Athenian spearman and mercenary of the Ten Thousand, writer, warrior, orator, felt the sun for the first time in over two thousand years. He and his mast—Nina—had just left the small house he had been summoned into and the gentle kiss of the winter sun felt magnificent after spending so long inside the Throne. It was neither unpleasantly warm nor cold on this February morning; it was a nice day to spend in the sun without worry.

“Master? I believe it is that way to the city. Shall we?” Xenophon naturally moved in front of her, looking at every patch of cover, every tiny scrub that could have hidden an attacker. Was it likely for there to be an ambush at this hour? No. Was it possible? Most certainly.

But even though the fresh air was invigorating, the spears on his back were a reminder of his duty. He couldn’t simply forget that he wasn’t here for pleasure. He had had time to rest during his two thousand years of waiting. There would be little of that now, but the warrior in Xenophon longed for the battles to come. No soldier wanted to feel useless. He finally had purpose. He finally had a goal. Xenophon of the Ten Thousand was alive! He had been granted a second chance and he would. not. squander it.

The girl behind him was strange, but not unpleasant. He had fought beside his superiors before. Clearchus had led the Ten Thousand from the front, fighting beside his men as valorously as any man could hope to be. King Agesilaus II had slain dozens of men beside Xenophon in every battle they fought. Each was a hero in his own right, but it was Xenophon who had been called. It was Xenophon who would do battle, this time with only one ally.

It was Xenophon who basked in the warmth of the sun one more time. If the Gates of Hades have been turned open, why was I the one chosen to walk free? It was better not to ask those questions. Even if there was an answer, he might not like it. He had made the contract; he had sworn his soul to the Throne. He was a Servant in death, just as he had been in life.

Xenophon took a moment to inhale and settle himself. He was a thinker and a doer, but there was a time and place for each. As beautiful as the day was and as amazing as the cool morning breeze felt, now was not the time to sit underneath a tree and contemplate his life. They were not safe here, would not be safe until they had reached Nina’s home and had begun preparations to defend it.

The Lancer set a light pace, adjusting for how tall he was when compared to his Master. The difference wasn’t particularly large, but he had been trained to move at a rapid clip for long distances in life and he had no idea how fast he would be able to move with his… B rank Agility. The Grail helpfully supplied an image of a blonde girl running along a--skyscraper? Was that the word?—but that did not really mean anything to him. After a moment, the Grail translated the information by telling him how quickly he could have done his morning run. Xenophon’s mouth lifted slightly at the corners as he allowed himself a small smile.

His idea of himself told him that his strength was equally incredible and his endurance was “the strongest possible”. He was a little wary of trusting a set statistic for a human attribute, because he was proof that men could overcome any impossible situation with enough willpower, but it would give him a baseline to judge other Servants. From what he understood, his statistics were ranked rather highly, except for his luck: D rank. He chuckled dryly as he thought over the events in his life that had attributed to that particular character trait.

Xenophon took another deep breath of the crisp morning air and closed his eyes for a moment—a brief moment. He had work to do, but he had always been a man to take pleasure in small things. A well trained horse, a tended garden, a quiet afternoon with a pen and his thoughts. His children laughing as they played. Xenophon would never claim that his life had ended unhappily, just… unfinished. Had he more years, he would have been able to finish his works and complete his writings. That was his only regret.

All in all, he wouldn’t have called himself unlucky. After all, how many men were offered the chance to live and fight again, for the greatest prize of all? A chance at a wish, at eternity, at anything he desired, as long as he fought his way through every opponent before him.

[Calamity Jane]

This place was amazing! It was so easy to get ammunition here, well at least it was for Percival, they had wanted to see her ID. She… really didn’t have that at all. But Percy had been able to buy what she needed, shots designed for her guns, which were apparently ‘classics’ in the word of the rather large store owner. He had offered her an outrageous price for them, but she had turned him down.

Although it had been tempting, she could have easily bought anything in that store with the money he offered, and some of the modern guns just seemed amazing!

And now she was walking the streets, guns hidden (Percy had been rather emphatic about that), enjoying the sunshine with a smile on her face and some new clothes, more modern, adorning her. A pale salmon button up blouse, closer to white, with an ironed collar, and a blue-violet frilled skirt edged with gold over top of a deeper blue pair of leggings, in case she did have to fight. Really soaring through the air with just a skirt was never the greatest idea. Her boots though managed to look a little out of place, as she still wore her long brown leather ones, because they were perfectly worn to her feet~

Even if it wasn’t the most practical thing, she liked it, and that was what this life was about. Having fun again, she just had a pesky war to attend to first.

In fact, the war was the entire reason she was tracking this semi-out of place, head-in-the-clouds Servant. It was pretty clear he was, even if she didn’t know by having scanned the area and seen the command seals on the girl accompanying him. Or perhaps she would not have. There were always dreamers walking the streets of cities like him. But the point was moot now.

She wasn’t even sure what made her decide these were clearly not people to talk to; perhaps it was the presence of the Servant who seemed to be able to crush stone with his wake, or the girl who just… generally did not look like the kind of person who would resolve things peacefully. There was a lack of fluidity about her that made her trust her gut instinct. Made her judge a book by its cover. Sure, sometimes she could be wrong, but when every other person in the war probably had the advantage on her in close range, she couldn’t afford to be overly reckless.

Her eyes could see much, see through all the physical, but it could never provide the true measure of the soul.

She absently patted her hips, hands feeling to make sure her spares were still there, pouches on the outsides of her thighs, she had well over sixty bullets, possibly even approaching one-hundred. Each gun of hers held six. She was ready to do this, to cut down the number of enemies in this war by one. It was why she held a form like she did, one not human but formed of magic. It was the only way to guarantee her new life… or her wish.

A momentary pang of regret assailed the walls of her heart, as she backed away from the street, and down a shadowed alley. No one noticed her passing; there were too many people in this city, far more than any place she had lived in. Her hair fell forward, bangs hanging almost over her eyes as she looked at the ground as she prepared herself.

And blinked, opening her eyes.

1019 meters away by the crows path. Flight will travel 1366 meters. Pacing… measured, regular. Heartbeat even. Unprepared, undrawn.

Her hands gently wrapped themselves around the grip of her pistols, index fingers threading for the trigger as she pulled them up, and began to position herself. She was aiming for the Servant, targeting his Master never even occurred to her.

First shot, internal carotid artery. Her right hand leveled, aiming at the wall to her left, and then up a bit past where her head would be had she been against the wall. The bullet had to start high, and come down low. Too many people, too many motions to account for in the street. It would take far too long.

Second shot, Femoral artery. Her left drifted lower, aiming at a shallow angle towards the cobblestone street in the dim alley. She had more shots to make, but these would arrive last, the slow path. The difference between all the shots would be less than half of a half of a half of a second, but it was important to make distinctions.

With a thrumming echo, the guns fired, a burst of light flashing as each bullet leapt out the barrel with speed greater than the weapons they used now, lancing towards their unsuspecting target. But Calamity was already moving.

Her right leg shifted, sliding across the cobblestone and changing the orientation of her body like she was starting the first step of an intricate dance, and it plowed up dust as it went, her sudden movements not even giving it enough time to cloud before she hammered the each trigger once more.

Distracting shot, initial strike, right arm in the crook of the elbow. Her previous shots had already accounted for the myriad of ways that he would block that, their path still watched, still influenced by her. Left arm, in case his weapon hand is opposite of standard.

She leapt back, flipping in midair and the guns thrummed again with her third shot from each, still while in the middle of her flip. These two were follow ups of the other, to try and keep his arms distracted, so the final two shots, the ones that had been fired first, could take his life.

But she wasn’t waiting. If he could somehow tell where she had fired from, despite the bullets’ paths leaving no clues that she knew of, she wouldn’t be there when he arrived. She would be long gone, ready to strike again, should he survive this initial assault.

Despite every fiber of her body wanting this war to end as soon as possible, she found herself smiling as she finished her flip for an audience that was no longer watching her, and wishing her opponent luck as she took off down the alleyway as fast as she could run, reloading the spent rounds as she moved.

”Time to see what you’re made of, boy~”

[Nina Lüceanu]

The house had disappeared from view once the pair turned around the corner. Nina was content with abandoning that base - she had succeeded in summoning a Servant, and with that, all other potential benefits of the location were of no further use. Not to mention the drawbacks of the geezer's lackluster efforts in fortifying place while simultaneously trying not to attract undue attention to it were. A bounded field of that level wasn't worth the risk of being blown up along with the whole building, and the mere presence of defensive measures beyond detection would rouse anyone's curiosity.

The girl lazily strolled through the street, enjoying the cool breeze. The neighbourhood was quiet - the day was nearing its eleventh hour already so most locals were in town, working or at school. Nina's head was preoccupied with her plans for the day and thoughts of the house they had left behind and whether she knew of some obscure method to track her down from there. Theoretically, it was possible, of course. But the important part was whether it would be worth the effort or not. No matter the answer to that question, these lingering doubts were the reason the usually sharp-witted girl missed to correlate her current circumstances and location with the situation at large, namely, the fact that there was a war going on in the neighborhood, and that a pair of legitimate targets walking down a street devoid of human presence on the brink of town were too good an opportunity to miss even in the light of day. As such, Nina actually looked surprise when the fortunate sharpshooter that had noticed them made her move.

The girl froze in her tracks, instantly realizing all of the above, the moment something flew past her and a sound of metal hitting metal resounded from Xenophon's general direction, several times over.

---
Dunno what Xeno will do so cutting off here for now.

[Xenophon]

Xenophon’s finely tuned instincts told him that there was a threat approaching. He snapped his head toward the danger, analyzed it… and knew that he wouldn’t be able to dodge. There was simply no time.

The first projectile caught him in the crook of his right arm with enough power to toss it aside, blinding pain shooting through his body at the bullet’s touch. Xenophon fought down the pain and forced himself to focus. Barely a tenth of a second had passed before a second bullet hit him in the left arm, predicting even how his body would move after the first impact. Xenophon gritted his teeth against the pain, but even that action couldn’t obscure his smile. This was no amateur. This was a skilled fighter, aiming to take down Xenophon before he could close. Most likely an Archer of some great skill.

Next shot, point one eight seconds until impact. It was coming at his neck and might have even held the power to kill him in a single blow. The embarrassment of such a defeat would have been too much for him to handle. Xenophon began to move the instant he had recognized the threat, but there was a second projectile behind the first, waiting for him to dodge so it could cut into his thigh. While that strike wouldn’t be fatal, it would be crippling.

Xenophon stopped thinking at that moment, point one two seconds before death. He had to trust in his own abilities. Over thinking things would get him nowhere and every moment of wasted thought only allowed the bullets to get closer to his vitals. He twisted his head and shifted his weight, just as one bullet skimmed the side of his neck and the other slammed into the muscle along his thigh. Blood began to flow from his body but the Lancer paid it no mind.

”Master! Get behind me and stay down!” Xenophon’s firm voice filled the air as he took control of the situation. An unknown shooter with unerring accuracy was nearby and powerful enough to shoot four shots in a fraction of a second. A single one could spell death for the small magus. Therefore it was Xenophon’s job to place his body between the shooter and his master. Even if he fell, which he was determined that he would not, she would be safe with his body as a shield.

There were no humans around. There was no one at all around. Of course. The enemy servant wouldn’t have attacked if there had been a chance of them being overheard. Perhaps there had been disadvantages to Nina summoning him in such a remote place.

More useless thoughts. Xenophon pulled a spear from his back in a practiced motion, settling it into his grip even as he checked the straps that held his shield to his left arm. The wounds in both of his arms hurt, but he rejected the pain. He could feel it later, when his Master was not in danger.

”I am the Servant Lancer,”[/b] he bellowed into the distance, where the bullets had come from. ”Come fight with me! I fear not your attacks, nor your stealth! If you have courage, then face me!”[/b]

[Calamity Jane]

Sometimes she wished she could read lips. Well better than she could at least. He was bellowing something, either cursing, or… telling her to prepare him some tea? She was definitely very bad at this. A spear was in his hand now which would do him all of zero good at the moment, but he did have a shield as well. That was annoying.

In addition he was definitely trying to protect his master. Really, did he think thaaaaaat lowly of her? If she was after his little raven of a master she would have shot her first and then just walked away. But she had no reason to kill any normal person, even if it would have ended it faster. The existence of a heroic spirit was a tenuous thing, while the human’s end would remove everything about them. There had to be a good reason for her to strike someone like a Master down in cold blood.

A servant on the other hand… of course her initial shots didn’t work. Lame. Very, very lame. She would have chastised her guns had she not been preparing her next shots. She had missed the killing shot, but had hit three of them. The depths are too shallow to kill, especially against a Servant. Will need a more vulnerable target, or repeated shots until he bleeds out, assuming the master has low skill in healing, although if she does… ammunition is too low. The final round hammered into her left revolver as she sighed. The next grouping would not be anywhere near as easy as the last, either.

124 meters from original position. 896 from his current position. Potentially too close, but will conceal position with a longer flight path though judging from rapid eye movements he has no long range detection. Master seems less concerned than Servant, perhaps she has tracking abilities. Will have to watch with next rounds.

She ran down the next alley and seemingly absentmindedly fired three more rounds, two from her right, and one from her left. Her mind was not working as hard on these, they were designed to keep him on his toes while she put more distance between her last location and this one, as well to judge his reaction speed better for the third round. Two of these were aimed at difficult to reach spots. The back of his left knee, the small of his back. The final one was first, and aimed square at his chest.

Calamity was around the corner of the alley before the casings even hit the ground, her skirt moving violently with her every motion. It wasn’t really designed for the speeds she was subjecting it to. She quickly looked at her original position, and it was already crowded with people wondering what the sounds had been.

…

She needed one of those ‘silencers’, why hadn’t Percy bought her one of them!? She would have stamped her foot on the ground in anger had she not been running and ducking through alleys, and trying to generally blend into crowds as well when she passed a populated street.

This was already getting annoying for her, but at least she could take some small amount of solace in the fact that at least the other Servant was going to be having much less fun than her~

In fact, that almost made this little chase fun in and of itself~

[] You might want to reverse your positions in the thread. Or go Nina -> Xeno -> Nina-> Cal -> Xeno -> Nina. []

[Xenophon]

Three shots. Less than two seconds until impact. One was speeding right for his chest, one would narrowly miss his knee, but the last would pass easily between his legs. What was this Archer doing? Xenophon had much better accuracy with his spears than this Servant had with what must have been their weapon of choice. Unless it was not an Archer and this handgun was merely meant to annoy and distract. Xenophon squinted, but his instincts didn’t tell him there was a threat more immediate than these projectiles.

However, his worry was that this attack was only a feint kept him on edge. An assassin could conceivably placed this ambush only to make Xenophon focus on the bullets while he snuck around to attack Nina. His guard would not drop. His body was ready.

The first bullet smashed harmlessly on his shield and he slid neatly to the side, letting both of the other projectiles bounce between his legs. Instead of being consumed by the soft earth and losing their power, one bounced against the sand and returned instantly, puncturing the flesh on the back of his knee. As he groaned and started to shift his weight to favor the leg, the other bullet bent a piece of grass slightly, altering its return angle and launching itself unerringly into his back. The armor he wore consumed most of the impact, but even that was a painful reminder that he could not assume other Heroic Spirits to follow rules he had when he was a mortal.

Xenophon allowed himself a moment to rest. He shoved his spear into the ground as he used deft fingers to check the wound on the back of his left knee, but it was neither deep nor crippling. Merely intensely painful. Likely it would force him to walk with a limp for quite a while. That was irritating and it would make it very hard to give chase. But that was fine. Xenophon was a Servant. His first duty was to his master.

He retrieved his spear and placed it on his back, shield still at the ready, as he held out a hand to Nina, intending to pull her close enough to shield her with his body. ”Come, Master. I need to get you somewhere safe before I can give chase and battle this Servant.”[/b] He stopped, letting his frustration through for a single moment as he bit his bottom lip angrily. ”Though this appears to be the work of an Archer or Assassin. I doubt I will find them. In any case, I cannot take you with without endangering you, but I cannot leave your side or you will be defenseless against an Assassin class. It is a difficult situation.”[/b]

By the gods, Xenophon hated assassins. Sneaking skulkers without honor, undeserving of the title of hero. How could such men be allowed to participate in this fight? How could they be given honor over that of men who had fought and bled beside Xenophon, giving their lives to protect others?

But it was not the Lancer’s place to question such things. He stilled his mind, letting the thoughts dissipate for the moment. His only duty was to protect the girl. ”Where do we go, Master?”[/b]

[Nina Lüceanu]

As she was turning on her heels, a highly anachronistic image entered Nina's field of vision. In the middle of a mostly modern street now stood a warrior who belonged a few millenia in the past, a Greek soldier in all his glory: a feral smile on his face, spear and shield in his hands, and armor blinking ever so slightly in the rays of the rising sun. Completing the picture of a lonesome fighter in the midst of battle were trails of blood running down his neck and leg.

The girl clicked her tongue in annoyance - at least two bullets managed to hit unprotected areas. Neither wound was more serious than a scratch but it would still be better to mend them sooner rather than later. Nina retreated within herself for a brief moment and sent small waves of prana towards her Servant, promptly healing both wounds. Fortunately, with Xenophon being essentially a spirit, this was far easier than mending living flesh - the whole process took but a few seconds. Meanwhile, Lancer had moved closer to her, appearing ready to defend his Master no matter the cost. With him standing in front of her now, she saw clearly when the second volley hit:
- one, the bullets came from different directions; this rendered his attempts to shield her with his body meaningless;
- two, the inhuman precision nulled the possibility of the first shot that she had felt being a miss; a good sign, the shooter was not aiming for her, whether of nobility or some other reason;
- three, the shooter defied physics and even logic itself; either that, or Xenophon was extremely unlucky to get his leg hit again, by a rebound no less. (It was somewhat strange that the idea of that shot being intentional made more sense to her than the opposite.)

"Sorry, but I'll have to be a bad girl here and disobey."

Sending another healing wave over the link, the bad girl put distance between herself and the Servant. There was still a distinct possibility that this was a ploy by the enemy - to implant false security into them by avoiding targeting the Master, to draw out the Servant this way, thus leaving her defenseless and allowing them to get a clear shot in. However...

"You - primary target. Too close - in danger of stray shot. Need shelter - back to the house?"

Nina voiced her concerns as briefly as possible. She left the tone of the final part questioning and restrained herself from immediately dashing off the way they had come from. Instead, she looked straight at her partner's profile, waiting for a response in case it came as a gesture first.

No matter what they did here, there would be risk involved. She would be safest staying close to Xenophon, but then their only option would be searching for the shooter together. Taking the difference in mobility into account, that would only lead to the enemy slowly bleeding Xenophon to exhaustion unless they came around other people. From the fact that the supposed Archer dared attack in the light of day the young magus had already concluded that the chances of an opportunate happening were slim. In these circumstances, tracking down the enemy before they retreated was key to victory.

Lest Xenophon had a better idea, Nina planned to take shelter in the windowless basement of the house she had left not long ago - judging from the marksman's ridiculous skill, simply being indoors would not be sufficient - and send Lancer out alone. Of course, that left her with the risk of being blown away along with the house... but chances were no sane Servant would use their trump cards this early in the War so it was still safer than staying in the line of fire.

[Calamity Jane]

Odd… they were just standing there… talking to each other. After she had just shot at them, multiple times. Really, some people just had no sense of propriety at all. Either that or her bullets didn’t really do anything.

They definitely pierced… maybe if she started aiming the occasional shot at the Master they would at least give her some respect, but she held that plan in reserve. And there was definitely no doubt that she was the Master, as Calamity could see her command seals extending from her navel. Kind of a little flamboyant, but she wasn’t one to judge.

What she was judging was their standing there, like she was no threat at all. She had clearly exhausted her options at this point, so she had two choices. Start levelling shots at the master, or get close enough to hear what they were saying. Well or just keep shooting, she guessed, but she would definitely need larger weapons if she wanted to do more than just highly annoy this big boy.

If she got close though, he would be able to sense her, which was annoying. Still definitely regretting not learning how to read lips. Well read more than the occasional word, and curses that came out as she once again skipped out without paying. She did always pay though… eventually. What was a year or two between friends?

Nonono, she was getting distracted here. Maybe she should shoot some more while she was thinking. That always helped.

Set. Warnings, separation.

[/color] One shot striking at each kidney, and the third one bouncing between the cement beneath the Master and up towards the bottom of the Servant’s jaw. Time between shots less than a hundredth of a second. More or less instantaneous, but should keep them from being quite this rude.[/color]

Her fingers slammed down on the trigger of her left pistol once… twice… and then a significant delay before the third one, it fired off just as the second casing bounced a third time on the cobblestone alley street, before she continued on her path. It was altered, and circled in closer to less than half a kilometer from where they were standing, giving her the opportunity to decide on her next course of action as she ran, still observing the flight of her bullets. She knew where they would strike, knew that their bounces were perfect, but still she had to watch.

Four point seven three seconds until impact. She pulled herself to the top of a building, the old edge of it crumbling slightly from the pressure of her fingers, and hopped into the next alley over, as she watched the final destination of her shots. She really didn’t have enough bullets; She was going to have to have words with Percival again. Maybe something bigger too, like a rocket propelled grenade or something. That, that she could certainly see doing some noticeable damage to this rock of a Servant.
[/justify]

[Xenophon]

”I am getting quite tired of this!” the Lancer roared as he sensed another incoming danger. Another three shots were coming, one aimed between his legs and one to either side. Xenophon sent comforting thoughts to Nina, trying to lend her his resolve, his determination. Though he felt no such emotion from the girl, he thought she would be afraid for her safety. He knew that he was.

There was no time to move and few possible maneuvers that could stop these attacks. He had to make a split second decision. With Nina far enough behind him to be the target of these jumping bullets, Xenophon twisted and thrust his shield out to catch the bullet to his left, moving his leg at the same time. The bullet aimed between the two of them, the greatest threat to his Master, crushed against his knee, nearly sending him to the ground as pain momentarily colored his vision red. The third ricocheted off the ground and turned back to impact on his kidney, dropping his injured knee out from under him.

Xenophon put his empty hand on the ground, forcing the pain to subside and willing his body to mend. After a moment, he rose again, firmly ignoring any protests his body gave. “You’re right, Master. You need to go and get somewhere that these bouncing projectiles cannot reach you. They can be stopped, but not dodged; close all the doors and lock yourself in the basement. I will come for you once I have dealt with this nuisance.”[/i]

Xenophon stood proudly in the morning light, his body aching but his spirit strong. He would not fall to a coward. He would not allow his chance at glory be snuffed out by an honorless whoreson who refused to face him in single combat. Perhaps times were different and honor could be found in killing an enemy who could not resist, but Xenophon was a warrior. A warrior stood before his enemy and showed him courtesy. He would not become a pathetic murderer like his opponent, slinking and creeping through shadows to slay men far better than he.

”I accept your challenge! Servant Lancer rides to battle, and you will wish you had never provoked me!”[/b] The challenge was over the top, stupid, but it brought a wry smile to his face. If the coward could hear it, they would know that death was coming. They would know that Xenophon was not a man to be trifled with or ignored. But he was a man—he would show respect to his opponent and announce his intentions, rather than striking while they were defenseless.

Xenophon pulled free a spear and settled it into his hand, raising himself to his full height. He raised his spear into the air, murmuring a quick prayer to Ares for strength and Athena for wisdom, then charged forward, the land blurring around him as he raced to battle.

[Nina Lüceanu]

For a brief moment, a different idea flashed in Nina's mind, yet it didn't take long to discard that alternative. As it was daytime, the rules of the war would protect her in the presence of uninvolved bystanders. However, that rule was put into effect for a distinct reason - to prevent the disclosure of magecraft to the world at large. Their current opponent, however, used modern firearms, making that point moot and this course of action suicidal.

Thus, by the time Lancer finished transmitting his thoughts, Nina had already taken off and sprinted back towards the house. On her way there, she pondered if there was anything else her Servant needed to know. A few ideas came to mind, and even if Xenophon was a genius tactician, she would make sure he heard them before rushing outside the effective telepathy range. The moment the basement door closed behind her, she distanced herself from the surroundings and reached out with her mind.

"I won't be able to heal you from here so avoid injury when possible. Best take spirit form to travel, both because of this and to maintain secrecy. You are not allowed to engage the enemy in the presence of bystanders. If the house is targeted with something especially destructive, try to warn me. Telepathy won't work properly over large distance but emotions should still be transmitted. If a different opponent nears my location, I will be warned and call you back so do not worry on that account. ...Oh, and you are free to override any of the above if you deem it necessary."

"...Wonder if he got that last one."

There was little to do in the darkness but wait patiently. A wing flapped, responding to the mild annoyance its wielder was feeling, and then there was silence. Setting her breathing into a steady, meditative rhythm, the yound magus concentrated on the wards around the house, ready to summon Lancer the moment they were penetrated, and on her link with the Servant, listening the sympathetic connection for warning signs.

[Calamity Jane]

He was mad.

Well ok, he looked mad, and judging from the way his mouth opened extremely exaggeratedly he was probably shouting or screaming something. So he was probably mad. Every vein in his body seemed to bulge as he seemed to reject the very ground with his challenge.

Buuuuuut Calamity really did not care. What she was currently caring about was why she was doing so little damage, and even the damage that she did do seemed to not hamper him in any way. Was his skin made of stone? Perhaps his skirt provided him some magic protection? She really was not sure. All this ammo and his Master was just going to heal it away no problem. That oddly stiff girl… she couldn’t tell from a glance but she had the airs of a Magus at least somewhat more competent than her own master. So the damage she had caused would not last long.

I mean I know I’m not the strongest out there but really?

[/color]

At least it wasn’t bouncing off. Small victories… or miracles or however that saying went. Should she leave him alone and seek simpler fish, or perhaps have more fun… Lying was a cardinal virtue, was it not? She supposed a lying shot would make this oh so stiff man dance.

A lopsided grin lit up her face as she took aim with her silvery guns. Seperation… an indirect route. Off the tip of the left shoulder. Not a strike, dead round.[/color] She would see how fast this boy could run~

The trigger was pulled and he hammer slammed into the back of the casing. The target was no longer the Servant, it was his Master. Well… to be fair the air above his master’s shoulder in a rather ponderous route as she fled, but definitely threatening enough and obvious enough that hopefully the Servant would chase after the shot like a rather overenthused puppy. No, his ears are too stiff to flop like an adolescent dog’s

Well that was rather disappointing. Perhaps she could fire another shot that would pin a tail that wagged in the wind to him… no she had nothing that would both serve and survive that trip. Ah well one had to make do with what one had. So fun first with this one, and then move on. Hmmm…

Perhaps… yes she was being a little too easy on him. He was a strong Servant, she was sure he would be offended if she didn’t offer more of a challenge.

The hammer on her gun thrummed three more times and three more bullets started on the path of narrow misses as she simply walked away, leaving a trail of empty casings behind her~

[] Yeah I know in Nina’s post she is in the basement but this bullet shouldn’t reach her anyways, since Xeno. So consider it somewhere between your last posts. []

[Xenophon]

Xenophon already knew he would never catch this assailant. They had too much range and too much of a gap on him. Still, he would give a worthy chase—no man of the Ten Thousand would allow themselves to be forced from the field by a coward! His challenge had been issued and yet the assassin still tried to retreat. There would be no mercy if he caught up.

The Lancer sensed another incoming shot, far to his side, almost certainly aimed at his Master. His jaw clenched. Now the honorless assassin was attempting to slay a noncombatant to force an end to this battle! “I will not allow this! I am your opponent, and if you think that you can distract me from our fight, you severely underestimate me!”

Xenophon slipped his arms out of the straps that held his shield on with a few quick twists. Perhaps he thought making these… bullets bounce around the battlefield would make them useful, but Xenophon had fought in hundreds of battles. His soldier’s sense was so developed that it had earned explicit mention from the Throne of Heroes. He threw his shield like a discus, neatly intercepting the bullet as it tried to pass him widely. Such tricks were pathetic and unworthy of his attention. Only a single shot? Had this false hero run out of ammo? A mocking grin curved the corners of Xenophon’s mouth despite his anger.

Another three bullets entered his field of vision, but this time he didn’t have a shield. None of the three were close enough for him to intercept all of; at least, not without doing something stupid. But then Xenophon would always bet on the strength of a man over the trickery of a coward. If he gave everything in this fight, there was no way the assassin could stand against him.

He tossed the spear in his right hand into the air and grabbed it by the bottom, running through the possibilities in his head. The spread of these last shots were far enough that he could only block one with his body, which meant he needed to knock two out of the air with his spear. The javelin was about as tall as he was, but the Lancer had a plan. It was ridiculous, but it was a plan none the less.

Xenophon hurled the spear overhand, spinning it end over end into the first bullet, losing half of its shaft as the projectile buried itself in the wood, but then it bounced on the ground up into the second. The bullet crushed itself against the metal tip of the javelin, destroying both. The shattered remains of the spear fell unceremoniously to the ground, but the success of that still satisfied him. He leapt after the last bullet with his inhuman speed, catching it out of midair and crushing the soft lead into his steel gauntlets.

The Lancer paused, taking a short moment to collect himself, then pulled a spear from his back and retrieved his shield, strapping it back onto his arm with practiced ease. ”I hope you’re beginning to realize that these attacks will never be able to best me,”[/b] he called mockingly. ”I fought against the Parthians in my life and became known for being able to counter their archers with ease. Every man of those was a better warrior and a better archer than you. How, exactly, did you manage to convince the Throne of Heroes that you deserved a spot?”[/b] Xenophon left that barb in the air as he started to run again, again expanding his senses to watch for any underhanded attack.