2:10 am, Monica's Apartment, Glyfada
Chrysaor, as quietly and gently as he could for fear of waking Assassin's sleeping Master on the couch behind him, slipped through the balcony door to greet his new companion.
Lancer, Pigsy, sat atop the railing with surprising balance. Hit hat was removed, revealing a tuft of bristly brown hair poking from his skull like a mushroom growing under shade. He gave a mock salute much like the one he had given earlier, but with the opposite hand. His primary arm, his right, was preoccupied with a blue can that wafted with a scent he didn't recognize. Looking to his left at the solitary table and chair, he saw similar cans bound together with plastic, one slot currently missing.
"Yo."
Chrysaor gave Lancer a suspicious glance, "Yes? Was there a reason you called me out here?"
Pigsy huffed, "Whoeeh. Don't you ever take the stick outta yer ass? -oink- I just want to hang out for a bit..." He added with a slight blush, "Unless ya think yer lady's bed was getting cold, of course."
His eyes rolled with a particularly grating sound, "I don't know what you're trying to imply, and I don't think I want to."
"Whatever. Just grab a drink already -oink-."
Content to take his mind off things for a while, and having nothing else to do, Saber actually did help himself to one of the cans, "What is this anyway? It smells like alcohol."
"Ugh." The force of his frustration nearly sent him toppling off his precarious seat, "I wish -oink-. This stuff's so watered down that it hardly counts as booze at all. 'Course, that also means you've got no reason to turn it down, other than the taste."
"I suppose so," He pulled the tab with a satisfying click, and the thought which had been scratching at his mind finally made itself known, "Where did you get these anyway? I don't remember them being in the fridge."
"Oh. That." He shrugged, "I borrowed them from the lady downstairs."
He spoke without anger, only frustration, "You broke into someone else's home?"
At this point, nothing from Lancer would've surprised him, all except for a coherent thought.
"Not my fault she failed to think that someone might come in from a second-story balcony -oink-. Besides, you didn't see her fridge. Believe me when I say that these won't be missed. If anything, I did her a favor."
He took a large swig to emphasize whatever point he was trying to make.
"Were you really that desperate for alcohol?"
Chrysaor, never a man of the world in any sense of the word, could never understand the appeal of things like alcohol. In his inhumanly long life, he was only ever drunk once, and he remembered that night with particular regret and displeasure.
Pigsy shrugged, "Look, man. I haven't had any booze since I've been summoned. Heping never kept any in the room -oink-, and didn't want me having any either. I woulda done something like this before, but I wanted to be with her in case..." He trailed off, "Yeah..."
Lancer took another sip.
Saber took one as well. It was sweeter than wine, but lacking in flavor or character, and, as Lancer himself had said, was not particularly alcoholic to begin with. But, with all the appropriate critiques considered, it still seemed to him that the strange and slightly distasteful combination of sweet-sour bitterness suited the clammy, foggy-rain night perfectly, and so he continued to nurse his drink slowly but thoughtfully, as one normally would with a far better draft.
After a while, Lancer started the conversation anew, "So, what the Hell was that all about?"
Saber didn't look up, "You'll have to be more specific than that, Lancer."
"Well, first you pretended like ya didn't know who I was-"
"Right."
"-And then you forced me to surrender the Grail War -oink-, even though you'd said that your Master wasn't interested in winning."
"Yes."
Lancer held out his hands, gesturing to something that should've been apparent, "Yeah! So who were you lying to and when, huh? My feelings ain't hurt, it's a war and all -oink-, but I think a little honesty would be nice about now."
Saber closed his eyes, moving his thoughts together and being sure they were in the right order,
"I never lied to you, for what that's worth."
"-Ah, so you only lied to yer girlfriend. Yeah, that's much better."
"She's not my-" He sighed and dropped the point, "-She didn't know about my meeting with you all, and she doesn't need to. The information I gave then is... out of date anyway, so the relationship between the teams of Saber and Lancer are starting over in any case."
"Whatever you say, hoss. And why is it that she doesn't know, exactly?"
For the first time in the course of the conversation, Saber's stoic expression broke, his lips squirming like a worm atop hot pavement,
"Well..."
"-Uh-huh."
"-She was asleep at the time, exhausted after a fight with Assassin."
"Ah. And you didn't tell her the next day because...?"
He sighed, all-but admitting his defeat, "Look- I try to do what's best for her, and sometimes it's for the best that she doesn't know these things. At least, that's what I think, but she'd made up her mind to win this War, and she's already come at me for withholding information in the past..."
He closed his eyes, no longer making any attempt to hide his shame and discomfort, "I've promised her to be more cooperative, and I don't want her to think I've broken that promise, or that I'm incapable of keeping it... That's why."
Pigsy raised an eyebrow, "You fear the doghouse that much, huh? I knew she was a ball-buster -oink-, but that almost makes it seem like she wanted to win from the start, eh? Maybe ya just couldn't see it."
Whatever springs that held up Chrysaor became so tightly wound that they snapped, and he fell back onto the railing behind him,
"Maybe so. I have no clue why she changed her mind, and that terrifies me."
Lancer sipped his drink, "Ya think she's in over her head? That she don't know what she's gettin' into?"
"Not at all, and that's the problem. Moni... My Master can appear apathetic, but that's not true. She's neurotic... and selfish. She mulls over her options, and considers each carefully, sometimes to her own detriment, and chooses the one that ends in her best interest. She thought about this, long and hard, and the end result was to throw away her life for the Grail. I don't understand it. I don't know what possible benefit she calculated for herself that would be worth the risk."
"Damn, yer dumb as Hell, ain't ya?"
"What?"
"She's just doin' what yer doin' -oink-. Why is your reason for fighting legitimate and not hers?"
Chrysaor averted his eyes from the pig. Something in his small, beady gaze was reflecting into his own, and so he turned out to the falling rain, letting the mist kiss his nose,
"It's not the same. We're Heroic Spirits. We exist beyond time, beyond space. Our lives are forfeit by design. We exist to serve our Masters, and whatever desires we have can be fulfilled infinite times over between manifestations. She... She only has one life. She should treasure it. That she'd be so willing to throw it away..."
"Huh." Pigsy began to kick back and forth absentmindedly, "Do yer people believe in reincarnation, Saber?"
His vision was brought to the obscured moon, and he tried his best to envision a distant past, "Some did. Most didn't."
"Well mine do -oink-, and that's why I can say that yer missin' the whole point. The ability to reincarnate ain't special. She'll go somewhere when she dies, whether that be a Heaven, a Hell, or someplace else, and you will too, but, with an attitude like that -oink-, you're the only one throwin' yer life away as far as I can tell."
Chrysaor took a long draw of his drink, and allowed the sound of the falling rain to drown out the blinking embers of their discussion, content to let it end there, and with no desire to continue the second rigorous examination he'd been subjected to that day alone.
"-But there's another question on my mind -oink-."
Saber's face fell into his palm, readying himself to retreat back inside to the silence of the sleeping Masters, "What?"
"What did you do to get so popular?"
"Huh?"
Pigsy stood on the rail, inflamed with passion, "Don't 'huh' me!" He counted off on his stubby fingers, "Your Master, Assassin, her Master as well. Yer surrounded by women willin' to get naked around you- what's up with that?! What did you do to get a harem, huh? What do you have that I don't?!"
Chrysaor was unsure how to respond, but he didn't need to, as Lancer continued to spout off,
"I mean- just look at me!" His chubby cheeks and belly jiggled like water balloons, "I'm jacked! I'm handsome- and downright adorable! What's there not to love? A hero known throughout the world- a real knight in shining armor if there ever was one!"
"-But you don't wear armor."
Before Pigsy could respond, the balcony door squealed, and there was Assassin, clothed this time. She looked to each of the two men expectantly, wondering with her eyes what they were doing at this time of night.
"Ah!" The pig began, "Speak of the mistress and she shall appear!"
He knelt atop the railing, slightly below her eye level, "Admit it, oh beautiful and deadly Assassin: you find me irresistible -oink-. There's no shame in it, my love, for I, too-"
Assassin's body had continued to de-petrify throughout the day and night, and now, both her knees and elbows were freed, if only barely. Using her newfound freedom, she swiftly sent her stone fist into Pigsy's gullet, and sent him toppling over the rail to the brush far below. Satisfied, she hobbled over to the small table and sat down. The drink in Saber's hand caught her eye, and he bent it over for her to taste, but, with only a smell, she wrinkled her nose and reeled, which was all the refusal he needed.
Moments later, Pigsy's rake appeared off the balcony, clinging to the rail and pulling him up with the chain. When he landed back in his seat, he appeared more than slightly upset,
"It's fine. I'm used to it. It'll take more than that to break my stone heart again."
As he said this, a single tear formed on the edge of his eye, which both of his companions noticed, and which both chose not to comment on, although Assassin considered it, and may have if she could've.
Since she couldn't due to a lack of available fingers, Saber closed the balcony door on Echo's behalf, and the three Servants were once again alone with the misty rain.
Lancer lost his drink in the fall, and so gestured for another, which Saber tossed his way. Taking a long sip, he broke the silence once more,
"A three-way alliance... who'dve guessed it."
Saber nodded sagely, "Yes... it's definitely rare, though I'm not sure it can be called too special given the six-way alliance against Berserker."
"Is it really an alliance, though? More of a truce, really -oink-, and since the three of us are already conspiring against Archer, it looks like it's broken before it ever started."
Assassin started into space and mused in Pigsy's voice, "Three of us...against Archer...Is it... broken?"
Saber examined her face, trying to gain her meaning, "'Broken' ? Do you mean that it seems too possible, or too impossible?"
She shrugged unhelpfully, and Lancer butted in, "Odds are somethin' to think about. Besides -oink-, it ain't really three against one, but three against two... unless yer Masters can add to the combat."
"Two? You mean Archer's Master?"
"Afraid so, yeah. He's a real piece of work. I don't know what he's capable of -oink-, but he shouldn't be forgotten, and though I haven't fought Archer myself, he did go toe-to-toe with Rider and Berserker at the same time, so he can't be underestimated either -oink-."
By this point, Lancer's body was actively shaking with fear of what could be, and, in the throes of anxiety, he turned to Saber sharply,
"No take-backs! We're in this together!"
Saber smiled, though there was no joy behind it, "Yes, we fight together, Lancer. Archer, Rider, and Berserker all have to fall at some point, and I don't think our odds can get much better than this."
Echo turned to Saber with eyes both innocent and determined, "...Our odds can get- better...All have to... fight together."
Lancer pointed to the nymph, "She's right. The only reason I got anywhere in life was 'cause I learned how to work with the other disciples," He blushed as he scratched his chinny-chin-chin, "That- and the fact that I'm a total badass, of course -oink-."
Saber crossed his arms and cut to business, "Very well. Where do we start? Noble Phantasms, Skills, Abilities, Fighting Styles-"
"-Motivations."
Saber raised an eyebrow, "You want to save your Master, I want the Grail, and she..." He trailed off, gesturing towards Assassin, "...She's agreed to help us for the time being."
Echo nodded thoughtfully, likely considering whether she would aim for the neck, small or spleen when stabbing them in the back later on.
"-Does it need to be more detailed than that?" Saber concluded.
Lancer unfolded his arms, "'Course it does, dipshit! We've promised to help ya sure -oink-, but how do you expect us to work towards a common goal when we don't know what that is, or who we're workin' for?"
Saber's expression hardened, "Surely you know enough. There's no reason not to take things one step at a time-"
"If we don't know what yer goal is, how do ya expect us to put everything on the line for it -oink-? Just tell us what ya want from the Grail, and we'll move on!"
Unfortunately accustomed to Lancer's stubbornness, he already knew there was nothing to do but concede to his demands,
"You won't like my answer... but... I'm not sure what my wish is. I thought I did, but... I'm reconsidering."
"The Hell!? What in the Buddha's name are ya fighting for then!?"
His expression softened, but he still spoke with absolute seriousness, "My Master wants the Grail. Right now, I do this for her sake, not mine."
Pigsy sighed, "Jeez... yer really down bad, aren't ya? Oh well, better than nothin' I guess."
Echo shuddered and covered her mouth. At first, Chrysaor was worried, but it became clear from her breathing that she was giggling, only no sound came out.
Saber shook his head. It was now the second time today his motivations had been mocked, "Right, so we'll start with relevant skills, then?"
...
Monica slid her window shut and rubbed her wet fingertips on her oversized shirt. She stared out for a moment longer, ruminating on the conversation she'd overheard, but was not so distracted that she couldn't feel the presence of an onlooker manifesting atop her bed.
"So," the shadow began, "He lied to you. Again."
"So?"
"It doesn't bother you? I thought honesty was important to you."
"It is, but I'm not about to punish him for trying. He's learning: it's just a bump in the road."
The shadow's smirk was practically audible, "The road, eh? A strange thing to say with the Grail War's end so near."
"Is it really ending?"
"Berserker is the dam keeping this war from overflowing to the rest of us. Once he falls, it won't be much longer."
"And- so we're clear- leaving Athens wouldn't..."
"It would kill Chrysaor. Slowly, yes, but if that road is what you want, there's no way to walk it without stopping at the Grail along the way- and at Gorgon before that."
"I didn't forget, Perseus."
"Could've fooled me."
She sighed, her tiredness pulling at her patience as much as her eyelids, "I'm just waiting for the right time."
"The 'right time' is a fiction written by procrastinators and other breeds of sloth."
She turned back to her room, focused fully on her blankets and pillows- she'd stayed up far too long. Waving her hand, the faded shadow of the weasel-faced boy evaporated into less than nothing, and she began her climb into bed.
"-Although," the shadow continued, even without a mouth, "I will admit that the time isn't now, not while you and Gorgon are competing to be the least-attractive personality."
She ignored him, "I'm going to sleep, Perseus. Please let me at least have my dreams to myself."
"That's out of my control. If you come to my island, of course I'll be there, and..."
-But the voice lost its volume as the mind it occupied slid into deeper slumber. Propelled by apathy and annoyance, she strayed far from the golden sea that night, and enjoyed a peaceful and dreamless sleep.
....