High Noon

[Brad McDowell]

For his part, he wasn’t expecting to stay at Lucca for an extended period, so the food running out in his rented apartment is expected. So his visit to the supermarket at this most inconvenient time is unexpected, to say the least.

He would also stand out like a sore thumb in-between all the housewives with his getup and hat.

Yes, he could’ve chosen a more casual outfit for the occasion, and he could’ve chosen a more secluded place of restocking the food supply than one of the biggest supermarkets in the city. But sometimes even the most careful planner left holes in their judgments. This was just one such folly for McDowell.

Or really, he has no concrete plan for this little shopping trip other than ‘grab some food for two off the shelves and pay it on the cashier’. He’s well aware that his servant doesn’t need food to subsists, but he seems to appreciate good food so buying extra in this case is a logical situation. Not that he’s short on money after all.

Dodging the awkward and sometimes fascinated looks from the fellow shoppers, he maneuvered his shopping cart nimbly across the food stations, picking up any items he needs. Perhaps he should consult his servant first on these items, but Davy seems remarkably not picky when asked about his favorite food item, a side effect of living in the wild for most of his life, he’ll eat anything. Even now he seems to be wandering around still, looking at the different corners of the supermarket, exploring uncharted territory for him. He had lent his own clothes to his servant, all of which fits surprisingly well given the circumstances, or mere unlikely coincidence. It seems the Grail is quite considerate of the servant it chose for masters without a plan to enter like him.

Leaving the meat section, he comes across the beverages aisle, which greeted him with a dizzying assortment of drinks ranging from milk to alcoholic ones. He had pondered about buying alcohol for Davy and him, but being intoxicated in the middle of a war seems like a surefire way for the enemy to take advantage of the situation. Despite that, the 1865 Whisky sitting on the corner of the vintage stand is tempting to see. Against his better judgment, he snatched the bottle from the stand and put the bottle in the trolley.

Just in time for the all too familiar sensation of a magus in the vicinity forming on the back of his head.

In order not to cause a ruckus, Brad remains calm and collected even as the possibilities of why a magus would be here. Even with the war going, this is too early to be challenging anyone to a battle, or perhaps this is merely to scout; and no doubt with the other one noticing Brad now the mission is a successful one.

Whatever it is, he should remain calm for now, no sense to get worked up over a simple possibility.

And so, Brad McDowell continues his search over food items with his trusty trolley in hand.

[Percival Heath]

Well.

Percy had known this woman for scarcely a single night and then part of a day. Yet, already, she had not-so-forcefully invited herself to his, er, his adoptive father/grandfather's summer house, holed herself up in one of the rooms, and then proceeded to invite herself on the single-passenger Calamity-express tour of the house, reckless and regardless of whatever damage she could have caused.

Percy spent the entire morning chasing after her, rebalancing precariously tipped clocks, adjusting lopsided portraits, and cleaning up after her messes. Not unlike a scene from a TV show, he supposed.

By eleven, he was tired. Yet, he still had to go out. The fridge was stocked enough for only one person, not two. So Percy informed Calamity of his plans. Big mistake. Having never seen a supermarket, the gunslinger girl insisted on accompanying him. For a moment, Percy was tempted to tell her to remain before giving up halfway through the thought. She'd follow him anyways, and at least she wouldn't destroy the whole house in his absence.

Still, he had asked her to leave her guns, although Percy doubted that she actually listened. Well, at least she wasn't spinning and twirling them in broad daylight...

However, what was meant to be a ten minute milk-run had extended to an hour long jaunt, as Calamity, beset by curiosity, dragged Percy through every aisle, tossing everything that caught her whim and fancy in the cart, from clothes (belonging to both genders), baubles, corporate-brand cereal of all flavors and varieties, along with five cartons of cigarettes. Somewhere, Percy's original shopping list composed of eggs and beef was tucked away, underneath the crushing weight of a few hundred pounds of merchandise.

And now they were rolling into the beverages section. Still needed milk. However, Percy's wallet grumbled and cried at the volatile - and expensive - combination of Jane with alcohol.

At least, it would, if he knew where it went.

[Davy Crockett]

Davy was really missing his hat right now.

Not that there was anything wrong with being dressed as he was. His master had been kind enough to allow him to borrow clothing, which much like the man himself were simple and practical. They even fit relatively well, which was impressive considering the height difference between the two men. He'd kept his boots, which helped hide the fact the jeans were a might small, but his jacket and hat were with the rest of his clothing.

"Ah well. Nuttin' tah be done 'bout dat." he said to himself as he looked through the supermarket's collection of reading. Most of it was in Italian, which his knowledge came completely from the Grail, which was fairly literal in it's translation. The store itself actually reminded him of a few of the outposts he had frequented back in the good old days, filled with both valuable supplies and trinkets of no real value but fascination.

Speaking of which, as he explored more of the market, another thing caught his eye. It was labeled the refridgerated goods section. The picture in his head was a curious one. Food, kept cold? Interesting. He moved over to look through it, just out of sheer fascination. "Well looky hea'. Ah neveh seen nuttin' like it." he said, looking at the row of cold goods, ranging from milk to eggs. Eggs! When he'd been a child, fresh eggs meant getting up before sunrise and getting them from the hens before they were awake.

Of course, anyone who knew english would be wondering why the odd looking man (Which, despite McDowell's best efforts, he was) was cooing over refridgerated goods.

[Calamity Jane]

Everything, everything was going absolutely amazing. They were seeing all the places she had wanted to see before being… interrupted… last night, and most importantly buying all the things she needed to buy.

As Percival cringed with her tossing some button up shirt on top of the heaping cart that he was pushing, she continued almost as normal, her guns hidden beneath the rather non-functional, black leather duster… well sleeveless duster if there was such a thing… she had picked up to blend in… although no one else was wearing one that she had met.

Nobody really commented on it, or anything though, so she guessed it worked. Percy had cringed at the price tag though. Underneath that she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, buttoned and a nice collar. Perhaps men’s clothing, but that was especially not a problem to her. She did not mind, and often it was freer to move that way.

I really think a well brimmed hat would go well with this. She made a mental note to purchase one later; perhaps they could even find one in the store itself. It was amazing how many things were in this one place.

Clothes, cigarettes, good food, alcohol, yes alco-

Someone was nearby. A Servant!

She blinked, and her eyes opened again. There was nothing in the way of her eyes, even as she saw the objects, she saw around them, looking and searching for the prickling sensation inside her skull that revealed the presence of another Servant.

And it did not take her long to find the pair, they both stood out like rather sore thumbs here… not that it mattered, when she could sense him. Of course the inverse was probably true but he seemed busy staring at… eggs? Really? Eggs? Wow… the fact that they had them here too! Is there anything at all that they don’t have?

[/i]

But… he was still a Servant, all though at least he wasn’t garbed completely in armour. Perhaps he would be a little more interesting to talk to than that other man the previous morning. Ugh… that way of talking still stuck with her. Pfft, he probably has a terrible legend anyways. But this man was just as well made, and looked a little more interesting.

He didn’t seem out to kill her, or anyone at the moment either. It was daylight… but she was not going to let that ruin all of her fun.

And it was totally a public place and all, it’s not like they could really shoot it out right there… although the timing seemed rather set for a showdown. Maybe it would happen, maybe it wouldn’t. But all she knew was that she couldn’t discharge a gun in such a public place, at such a public time. Yesterday there was no one around… right now she was bumping into people right and left.

So she did the next best thing. She began to direct the cart towards the two men, and the one absolutely fascinated by the eggs. Although she still grabbed occasional things on the way, and did fear that Percival might need to push two carts at once.

Once she reached the aisle they were in, fairly quickly since she had almost been running, well… more like run-walking, it was the time to decide what to do. And she decided on something suitably juvenile, and mischievous for the man, who by just a first impression of his looks, seemed like an honest kinda guy. She pointed a finger at each of them, taking a gunslinger's stance, surely the other Servant would have noticed her by now, and shouted a single word.

“Bang!”
[/justify]

[Davy Crockett]

Davy first noticed the tomboyish woman making a beeline for himself and his master out of the corner of his eye. There was a tingle at the back of his neck, telling him that she wasn't normal, and the way she moved, it was subtly different from that of a regular human being. Servant. Davy thought. He went back to looking at the aisle's contents, but kept an eye on the girl. He didn't want to start anything, especially not with all these innocents about. De'ah lord, please don' let 'er notice meh.

Which is why the oddly cheery way she put her fingers up like a flintlock and shouted "Bang!" at both himself and his master was both funny and mildly chilling. To Davy, that meant I know where to hurt you. Two options flashed through his head. As was typical of the man from Tennessee, he chose the louder one.

Davy turned toward the girl and walked toward her, a large grin on his face, seeming for all the world like a Tennessee redneck going to greet an old friend. In English, he said in a loud carrying voice "Whah HOW ya a-doin'? Iz been too lawng, darlin'. Waz life been a-treatin' ya like?" He spread his arms, as if to give the girl a hug. There were a fair few stares at him by the various shoppers, before a shrug. Bloody Americans.

On first glance, this might have seemed odd, however, the way Davy saw it, by being as unsubtle as possible, it would keep the lady from doing anything stupid, like start a fight in the middle of a convenience store. Also, Davy knew that he could probably wrangle a few details from the girl if he got her talking. All in all, a worthwhile gamble, at least in Davy's head.

Of course, there was also the fact that Davy had wrestled bears as a child. Bearhugs from Davy were... dangerous.

[Brad McDowell]

He has noticed his servant by the egg section, looking towards the packaged eggs with an expression not unlike a kid in a candy store. It was a bit amusing, of course, but his behavior begin to attract a lot of attention towards the pair, not that they were the most inconspicuous pairings in the supermarket in the first place, but his action certainly didn’t help matters. It certainly doesn’t help the feeling that the other magus is watching this commotion, but he’s still sure that this other magus won’t do anything to harm him and his servant lest it would attract the attention of the people of this supermarket.

But maybe it’s too late, he thought as he spies the obvious mass of prana that headed his way. With a shopping cart, no less.

While there’s nothing out of the ordinary about the way the girl’s dressed, if a bit tomboy-ish, but that prana concentration is unmistakable. The girl with the shopping cart heading their way is a servant, perhaps only coming to deliver a challenge for a duel or the like. He had glanced to his servant on the egg section after the girl begins to engage the two, maneuvering the cart with the grace of a servant, though it won’t be apparent for the people paying minimal attention to her, which fortunately includes the large amount of people gathered in the hallway.

And she promptly delivers what can be amounted to a challenge directed to the two men. Maybe it’s too awkward to be an out of out challenge, but she implied that she has the two of them in her sights, which can constitute as a challenge…or perhaps she’s just playing and he’s just reading too much into things. It does arise some questions though…wasn’t his servant the Archer in this war? If the girl is knowledgeable about guns, then Archer would be the most obvious choice. But from the limited information he gained about the Grail War, there are only at most seven Heroic Spirits summoned as representatives of each seven classes. Because of his servant’s status as an Archer, she can’t be an Archer…or could she? It must be related to his accidental summoning…

Then again, choosing servants from the point where guns have been developed is an unusual decision as it is, if rumors are to be believed. Now they have two of them running around, Brad could appreciate the irony if not for the fact that it all happens too fast for him to comprehend in such a short time. Still…if she’s an Archer, then she could operate independently without her master’s supervision…

…Or maybe not, as he notices the young blonde man pushing the other shopping cart from where the Archer came. He suppresses the urge to facepalm, though it’s too early to rule this man as the girl’s master though.

Brad was going to instruct his servant to distract the girl-maybe-Archer before his servant took the initiative and tries to huge the girl with outstretched arms. He stares for a second, maybe two, at Davy before deciding that it’s as good of a distraction tactic as any and turns his attention back to the blonde young man on the foreground. Deciding to go with the snowball that his servant set down the hill, he waves towards the young man’s direction.

“Oh, there you are, ‘been shoppin’ too?”

[Percival Heath]

Suddenly, Jane moved in, a hand hooking around the cart's front, commandeering it. With her free hand, she slowly drove it, turning it to the refrigerated and assorted dairy products, the eggs and creams and whatnot.

Her other hand was still darting to and fro, here and there, picking any object that caught her fancy. Like a magpie. A human-sized magpie. She even wore the black to go along with it.

Percy's thoughts turned back to his despairing credit card. ...Whenever I find that thing again...

Without warning, Jane released the cart, walking down the aisle with some purpose. Before Percy could call her back or even utter a half-hearted "Hey, where you going?", the lady (or was it girl? She certainly had enough energy for one) had already reached her target, two big men. Though one was shorter, he was more heavyset than the other. Swiftly, she raised both hands...

What is she doing I told her not to bring her guns what is this

Percival groaned as he attempted to pick up his pace... failing miserably, as burdened as he was by a few hundred pounds of assorted sundry and oddities.

"Bang!"

Oh, just a joke. Percival sighed with relief, slowing his pace.

Wait. Wasn't she supposed to be keeping a low profile, because she was on the run and all? He hurried again, the cheap, plastic wheels squeaking and rolling gallantly, yet unable to break a leisurely pace.

Then, the tall man suddenly broke out in a very, very pronounced accent. Percy could only hear one out of every three words, and counted himself lucky for that small favor. A massive bearhug followed.

"Hey wha-"

Percy's words trailed off as the heavier man addressed him. “Oh, there you are, ‘been shoppin’ too?”

The younger man slowed to a halt before he answered the other.

"Uhm... yeah, pretty much." To emphasize the obvious, he hooked a thumb at the over-flowing cart. Then his hand darted out, preventing a one-gallon tub of sour cream from falling. "Guess you're doing the same... food, I guess?" He asked blandly, a bit distracted.

What if these people were the aforementioned assassins and whatnot? If so, why would Jane boldly and casually meet up with them? Some sort of allies?

This secret stuff was a bit too much for him to handle.

[Calamity Jane]

She was pretty sure she was suffocating. There was no way she could be suffocating as a Servant, but she still felt like it as she was enveloped in the massive man’s hug.

“H-help?” she murmured, muted against the man’s chest. Her legs were even dangling in empty air, the man was so gigantic. Maybe… not the greatest… idea… ever.

Although apparently he recognized her, if his words meant anything. She definitely didn’t recognize him in return, which kind of sucked. It did speak nicely for her popularity however~ Just… is there any way he could have done something other than attempt to kill her nicely?

Finally, when spots began to cloud her vision and it looked like all was lost, he dropped her, and she fell, completely not expecting to ever be dropped. Fell right down onto her butt, and staring up at the man who had hugged her.

Just a note, Calamity. Stop! Moving! So! Close! To! Giants! Her own shouted thoughts seemed to echo through her mind endlessly, giving her a bit of a headache as she dusted herself off and stood up before the man who had been so fascinated by eggs.

And looked up still. Wow was he ever tall… although if he was an opponent that just made him a bigger target. But there was just… something about him that made her believe he wouldn’t outright fight her. She had made that mistake a few times before.

Urg. And his Master was a giant too, now that she actually considered more than just what they were. Perspective was always weird when she saw them from such a distance. At least Percival was here now with that rather heaping cart… yeah he really needed to be pushing two of them. That would definitely be helpful.

“Careful now, big boy," She said with a bit of a pained groan, "You could kill a pretty girl with a hug like that one, don’t you know?” There was still a little creak in her spine as she sort of shifted a little to try and fix it, but it was being enormously stubborn.

She glanced over at Percy, talking with the other Master. That glance made her have to look a second time. At the other Master. Who wore a hat that she thought might actually suit her… green wasn’t her best colour but still. It was sufficiently worn and…

I wonder if it would fit.

She wasn’t really about to steal it or something, or attack him for it but…

But…

She had to try! It was just that nice a hat. At the very least, perhaps she could get him to tell her where he had found it. But it was worn and old… what if the crafter had-

Stop thinking and just get this over with!

“Hey! Is that hat for sale by any chance? Don’t worry about money,” she pointed her thumb back at Percy, “He’ll be paying for it, so name your price.”

[Brad McDowell]

The situation’s growing more and more awkward by the second, especially after his servant pretty much engulfed the girl with the hug, massive difference in height and all. This is from a man that is 5 inches taller than him, and he isn’t exactly a short man either. Even glancing from the sidelines, he can’t see the girl very well because of Davy’s massive build engulfing the other servant. While under a different perspective the act can constitute as a physical assault, especially in a crowded place like this one, the lack of (audible, at least) protest of the girl failed to attract any panicked screams, only dumbfounded stares from the other people in the immediate vicinity.

Moving away from the ‘couple’, he examines the girl’s ‘master’ closer. Though he had not realized it earlier, the blonde seems to be…stocking up for war, or at least something to that effect judging from the amount of stuff he got in those two full shopping carts. One glance tells him that they’re not just general supplies for everyday needs, rather a general catch all for items found in this supermarket. In fact, it looked like he just grabbed one of every item in the aisle, judging from the variety of items in the carts.

“You really outdid yourself with the groceries.” Brad said to the younger man while whistling quietly. It may look like an attempt to break the ice for the outside viewers, but he just wanted to see the blonde’s reaction about a question regarding his ‘preparation’ for the war.

Suddenly, there’s a light crashing sound behind him. He turned around to see the girl sitting on the floor, with his servant still standing, obviously having been releasing the grip a little too early that the other servant doesn’t have the time to regain her footing. Well that; or he intentionally released her in such a way that he made the girl fall, but Davy doesn’t seem to be that kind of person.

“So you’ve been in this city long?” Another prying question, perhaps too personal, in order to make him more nervous he had to do it. Or perhaps reveal that he’s another one of the odd cases, like Brad is currently, but what are the odds of that?

“Hey!”

It was a girl’s voice, apparently belonging to the other servant as Brad and the younger man turns around to meet the source.

“Is that hat for sale by any chance? Don’t worry about money; he’ll be paying for it, so name your price.” She said while pointing her thumb towards her master, as if he’s her caretaker, or perhaps the one with all the money, which might as well be true in this situation. Brad stared for a moment at the girl before chuckling.

“No, I’m afraid not there missy. However, I know where to buy this kind of hat,” He gestured towards his green hat, “here in this city. Don’t think this is the right place to talk about it though, we’re interrupting a lot of people.” With that, he looks around the immediate vicinity as if to emphasize his point.

“How ‘bout we pay these things and then go grab some sandwiches? We can talk ‘bout the hat shop there, or the cup too.” He added that last thing as a hint, hopefully the other one didn’t constitute that as a challenge.

[Davy Crockett]

After hearing the girl's protest with a wry grin on his face, Davy finally let her go (with great reluctance at that). However, he found that he may have miscalculated the girl's hardiness in the face of one of his infamous bearhugs. There was a small thump as she fell to the ground breathless, right on her rear. "Sorry Dawlin'." he said in an sheepish, apologetic tone. It seemed he had taken his own little joke a bit too far. Ah well, nuthin tah be done 'bout dat.

Helping the girl up, as a gentleman should, Davy reached to tip his hat before realising he didn't have it on. As she dusted herself off, he noticed her staring. Ah. Iz always the height they notice. Or maybe it was his muscles. The shirt was only a short sleeve afterall, and slightly tight around the chest. Davy had worked in the wild most of his life, and that left a person built.

Thankfully, before he could bring up that he was spoken for (in a manner of speaking), the girl's attention was brought to his Master's hat. Quickly, she moved over to talk with him about buying it. Fat chansah dat. The man loves dat hat, jus as much as I love mine. And indeed he did, as McDowell quickly placated the girl of promises of where to find a similar one. And then the man said the magic words of food.

Of course, Davy's ears perked up at the sound of food. He hadn't eaten anything for ages. Other then those "Pop Tart" things in McDowell's apartment, but those hardly counted as a meal, especially in Davy's eyes. He could have eaten an entire cow in his day (a horse would have been a waste of a good steed), and a box of small tastey rectangles hardly were enough.

"Ah hope waya-evah we go, iz got some meat. Ah am starvin'!" he said, fairly enthusiastically.

[Percival Heath]

“You really outdid yourself with the groceries.”

Percy took a glance at the over-filled shopping cart, slightly raising an eyebrow, shooting a look that could only say, 'really.' As if in response to this sudden display of flippancy, or for no actual reason, a boxed chocolate orange dislodged itself from the pile, gently bouncing away. Percy nimbly reached out, catching it by the fingertips. The sudden motion, however, loosened several more bits and bobs, sending them falling to the linoleum floor.

“Ah- great.”

Percy dipped down, hurriedly grabbing the fallen items, from a heavy-duty digital watch to a box of twinkies. He looked up at the American, nodding. “Haha, yeah. Mostly the mag- Maggie's idea. She comes from Peckham, y'see.” Percy chuckled at his own little joke. “Just showing her around.”

The other nodded understandingly, as if sympathizing with the woes of out-of-town relatives... Percy cast a glance at the tall and boisterous man bear-hugging the smaller-by-comparison girl. He probably knew the exact feeling.

I know dat feel, bro.

“So you’ve been in this city long?”

“Actually, no-”

“Hey!” The magpie interrupted him. Percy stopped mid-sentence as he turned back to the girl inquisitively, brows raised.

“Is that hat for sale by any chance? Don’t worry about money. He’ll be paying for it, so name your price.”

Wait, what? Now, this was going a bit too far. No, not a 'bit too far.' 'A bit too far' was bleeding out on the kerb half a mile back, its teeth kicked in. This was far too far. Much too much. Percy opened his mouth to ejaculate his dissension, only for the American to demur with a chuckle, denying the cowgirl while pointing her out to a potential vendor. The last sentence seemed to be directed to him, for some reason, complete with meaningful intonation and inflections.

Percy blinked. What was all this about...? Whatever it was, it would at least give him an excuse to spare his wallet. “I ... certainly. A bit peckish anyways.” He rubbed his stomach ruefully.

[Calamity Jane]

Haha! Well surely a new hat wouldn’t be quite so worn as his, but she would have the ability to wear it in herself. That hat he wore spoke of character. The hat the Servant wore spoke of character too, but completely the wrong kind. Not her kind of character.

However… there was a serious problem. They would have to go for food immediately, paying for what they had. But she wasn’t done, wasn’t done by half! There were still so many strange items she wanted to try, wanted to have in a second metal cart.

But… the hat! Mentally wrestling with herself, debating but mostly sort of a saloon brawl in her head, one side finally punched the other out. With a chair to the head. The hat won out in her interests, and so she would… reluctantly… have to accept the proposition.

“ Ah hope waya-evah we go, iz got some meat. Ah am starvin'!” Yeah, it looked like he just shoved meat into his muscles themselves. She didn’t really see ‘sandwiches’ filling up the man in front of her. She didn’t see her entire cart filling him up. Maybe this entire store itself…

Percy agreed too, before she could. Even if she had won the barroom ball, it looked as if she had lost the vote. Hmmm… well whatever they were agreeing with her, but she simply felt odd agreeing with them.

”I guess we can come back and finish up this expedition later then~”

Wait, she seemed to be missing something. Something the hatted man said… talking about… urrg why had she forgotten already? It was the hat. It had to be the hat. It was hypnotising… was it some Mystic Artifact!? She glared at it… Percy had agreed easily, and maybe even she was being influenced by its hypnotism.

Or maybe she just forgot. That seemed more likely. Or maybe she was still woozy from that hu- wait now she remembered! Ha, Calamity 1, Memory 0.

The cup. Her mind whirled, spinning, blurring as a thousand thoughts came to bear on her. The Holy Cup, and her reason for the new existence. A new life, one to enjoy again and not die early of some sickness. That ending to her story was pretty lame. A hail of gunfire, maybe ending in a cliff dive, would have been a far more appropriate ending for her. The one she would have preferred. It was too bad she had been unable to write her own ending, or that would have certainly been it. Or maybe an uncertain ending, her alone stuck in a dangerous place, with many people aiming guns at her. One last gunfight where she died after… no she was getting carried away now. That was something she could think about after she drank from the cup of life.

”Well then, what are we waiting for? There is a place open about half a block down, and they are serving sandwiches, as far as I can tell. Unless two pieces of bread around meat and vegetables is something different now~”