*5 years later*
"I have spent the whole day searching the city." Diarmuid spoke, as he walked to the middle of the road before facing Arturia "Everyone simply slinks away, hiding in their little holes. Only you alone have accepted my offer."
"That pure energy surrounding you, you are saber I presume?" Not asking, but stating as fact
"Indeed." She responded "And I presume you are lancer." She stated in turn
"Being unable to honorably name myself to my opponent in combat troubles me." His cool voice failing to portray this, as he shifted his stance, along with a twirl of his spears to match his positioning, to which Arturia did her magical girl transformation and shifted to her "Battle" dress. "I dislike these rules." He continued unfazed by her change
After Diarmuid and Arturia exchanged pleasantries as their perspective classes of lancer and saber, a slow clap was heard causing them to flinch and look around guarded, while Arturia stood a bit closer to Irisviel. All of them looked around where the clapping as it was echoing from shipping containers, causing those watching the show, minus the slav- I means servants for the moment, to grow weary as they too have become unknowingly contestants for the game that is afoot. The slow, rhythmic, dreadful claps started to get closer and closer. Before finally getting close enough for both servants to detect with their bare senses, snapping their heads to the clapping slowly congealing into a path engulfed in darkness between the shipping containers.
Their focus and attention were laser-sighted straight at that spot, before finally, showing the what, or rather who was the source of the clapping. A man stepped out silently into the light, making no sound but his slow clapping, right between Diarmuid and Arturia. He wore a form-fitting trench coat, with soft-looking military apparel complete with protection underneath with a tie, complete with snug pants that are half underneath zero-drop combat boots. With half his face covered by a hood, the only thing that can be seen is his smug smile adorned with a scruffy blond beard. Though it seems he could be seen to be a bit over the top armed with some firearms along with
His smile seemed to amuse Diarmuid, while irritate Arturia with a slight tick mark
His slow claps came to a slow, deliberate stop right before he reached the quarter point where he would be between Diarmuid and Arturia.
"Bravo, Bravo~." He spoke, giving everyone in attendance a voice with some of a face to the theatrics. "That was quite the introduction." He complimented "6 out of 10. Could've gone ah bit longer than that. But then again, that would be asking too much from you two."
Diarmuid could only quickly frown a bit, masking a quiet chuckle threatening to spill. While Arturia could only tighten her grip on her imaginary sword while her eyes narrowed at the backhanded mockery thrown her way.
"And I presume you must be Assassin?" Almost demanding
"You presume~, much. Though it has been quite a while since I have been called that." He replied without missing a beat, almost becoming lost in memories, before he continued with his distraction. "My name is Silver, not, at your service." Doing a little bow, not tipping his head or bending over to either of them in complete mockery of a courtesy.
Almost everyone listening in became gobsmacked. Not at his robust wordplay sadly, but to brazenly reveal his name out loud for everyone to know. Kiritsugu was the first to break out of his stupor as well as the first to realize something was wrong with how assassin still lived, as there was no one else with that capability. He signaled to Maiya to pull back while he started to pack up his gear to be secured to his person while he was ready to bolt. He won't leave until his wife is in the clear but now he is now ready for anything to be upon him.
"'Oneiros had been tipped off. He has ordered Bes to vacate the area but is still providing overwatch until Lion and Bearer have left. Give us thirty more seconds and we will have every person of interest tagged. We will have to give Oneiros priority though as he is a primary target.'"
Silver could only click off an affirmative at that while he drink in the stupefied faces of his latest victims. He thought it would take more than to surprise them, but now he has gone beyond and have them astonished. It was kinda disappointing, but he can take what he can get and enjoy the little things.
Diarmuid was the next, shaking his head in amusement with a dainty little smile on his face. Almost close to chuckling, yet is now in a good mood.
"Thank you Silver. Although I can't tell you my name at the moment, I am happy you were able to tell me yours before we battle." Diarmuid was quite happy at least someone has good manners in this war. Regardless of his actual desires clashing with his orders. "Though I'm quite worried that now you have revealed your identity, it would cause no end of trouble now that you have revealed who you are. Surely, would it be folly to do so?" He was worried of course, his opponent was a good sport and seemed he would no doubt be a worthy opponent, though now the fight would be unfair now. Regardless if he was assassin.
"Nah~." Silver answered, his answer finally rousing the rest of their stupor, only to be flabbergasted at his answer, even the real assassin(s) was astounded by his shameless straight answer. "Be honest with me'e." His slacker-like smile only seemed to lengthen and distort further in crooked, grinch-like, ways. "Is there really any hero you could easily come up with at the back of your mind that has, shares, or even alludes to the name 'Silver'?"
Silence could only reign, his smile becoming just a bit more crooked as he saw Arturia scrunch her face in an attempt to use her very smoothed-out brain. It was cute.... Like watching a child attempting to figure out the smart-ass answer to a riddle. A very spoiled and impatient child. Which could end just as well as one would expect: her face became painfully robotic, but he can hear the whispers of grumbles that were confirmed by the narrowing of her eyes.
'So it will~ take more effort than tha't to make her snap. Challenge accepted.' Silver's eye's would betray so much of the trouble he was bringing her way. If they could see though the hood in the first place. 'Though how well it's done is the question of how great the reward will be.' His benefactor truly knew how to provide great incentives, especially when done right. Hell, collapsing and taking over what was left of the soviet union in one clean fell swoop rewarded him an artificial planetoid two times the size of Jupiter filled with riches beyond imagination!!! And they still haven't even scratched the surface of how deep it is. And don't get him started on the endless loot or it's fun features!
"In fact-" he made a gesture as if to grab a handful of something out of thin air, in which reality seemed to bend as he grabbed precious minerals, or what was defined "precious" and/or "valuable" into his hand. Almost spilling out of his hands as the lighting of the area reflected off the various metals and gems onto the shipping containers "-I'll even bet on it."
All Silver could see on one side is Diarmuid raising an eyebrow in amusement, dashed with a bit of interest if he's reading correctly. While Arturia… Arturia…. Where does one begin with Arturia? We can start with saying how her face has gone dead fish faced on a cold statue, her eyes though betray the slight shock along with the beginnings of contempt, though her body language was subtly giving of all but the most obscure hints of confusion.
Fun fact: she does not take confusion well
Already the grip on her hand tighten even further even though she impressively managed to hold it in, though it wasn't enough to hide it from silver. The twinkle in his eyes seemed to get a bit brighter at the prospect of shaking the bottle. The question is: will it pop on its own? Or will he get to continue 'shaking' it?
Though it also seems Diarmuid is also starting to notice the brewing of anger being fermented into something greater. Course, being the Celtic he is, he decides to "join the fun", as it was. Might be able to confirm his suspicions about who saber was if he shook the tree a wee bit.
"And how exactly are we supposed to gamble exactly? We don't exactly have any monetary means of payment when we are summoned back to the world of the living." He waves around his spear in showmanship as a gesture toward Arturia "I'm sure she would be able to provide other means of satisfactory compensation in lieu of the bet-" In which aforementioned person froze in confusion at this "- but I'm not exactly piteog."Diarmuid wizened up before he spoke more than he should have
"Oooooh I wouldn't be too shure bout thaht kinsman." Silver replied as though he were a reasonable businessman "You do, in fact, have something to bet." To which he shifted his head to the side as it were to gesture something below, where he was holding- "I can't give you no matter how interesting or valuable you make it. Though it would be amusing, I do not think my teacher would like that very much." Thankfully he manages to suppress the shudder though the training by the very same person who mentally scared him the first place
"Awwwww. Don't be like thaht." Almost whining silver was "I don't want ta keep it, I just like't ta examine n'd have a bit of phune with it."
"Fun?" Diarmuid tasted the bizarre word. It was not a completely alien concept to him, but it was usually associated with the joy of battle. What other fun was there exactly to be had besides the thrill of battle? "What exactly do you mean by… "fun"? Is it to battle?" Diarmuid was what you would consider narrow-minded. It was not of his own volition mind you, but rather a product of the times he has lived in. The only fault he is guilty of is a complete lack of interest in anything other than fighting and killing his fellow man for one reason or another. It was the fastest way to have some actual entertainment that can earn one's own sense of fulfillment. Which it was understandable since it was easy to get away with it at the time.
"Course not kinsman, just wanna pretend ta be you for'a bit n'd see if it cuts stupid." Silver said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Usually, this is the point where everyone sweat drops and thinks the same set of words creating a particular sentence. However, it is somewhat realistic reality and thus it never fucking happens in the first place. Sadly, since it is Japan, with the majority of cast of being natives of the country (even if they actually don't look like native Japanese), the latter of the earlier statement crystallized into reality.
'Something is wrong with his head.' Was the collective thought shared by what the "normal" people, with "normal" mentalities, with "normal" sentimentalities, if you can call it that.
"Stupid is an adjective. It's a spoken word that is incapable of being solid enough to hit." Arturia saw fit to point out, though it fell a little flat with her failure to learn actual socialization as a decent human being with some feelings. Apparently, she didn't get the memo being a straightforward dumbass is just asking for trouble from people who either can back it up or get away with it. Unfortunately for her, Silver's got both in spades
He also does not give a damn "I don'n give ah damn." Silver said
See?
Poor Arturia. Getting another shake to the bottle of her repressed anger, this time she shifted her blade a bit towards Silver for a proper thrusting, to which he notices again along with Diarmuid. It was so much fun. So much fun. And he wasn't even trying. That was the saddest part really, all that restraint has never really been tested against someone actually provoking her. If Silver was a damn good betting man, which he is, this is the actual first time someone was- "pushing her buttons" as it was said in this century's lingo.
"How would one go about cutting… 'stupid'?" Diarmuid can't exactly wipe away the smile from his face. Sure, his 'opponent' was very likely a backstabbing, conniving, dishonorable bastard. Sure, he must have done the unthinkable and broken every. Single. Rule. Unspoken yet agreed upon all. But for the life of him he can't dislike him, not with how amusing he has proven to be.
"Cut a bulldozer in half, poke a fuel truck, throw it at a lifting off plane. Da works." Listed it off as it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"…What?"
"Look, a rya goin'ah take da bet or not kinsman? Not so sure bout da lassie, but you don't got much to lose mate." Silver turned completely towards Diarmuid now, offering his back to Arturia and her charge. "It's ah- how do they say- no brainer! Yes! That's the word! No brainer!"
"I might." Diarmuid was more of a hammer that happened to be sharp. Though now his shady master was ordering him to accept to bet though not outright. His posture screamed distaste in Silvers's eyes. Already telling him that the mage that is in control of them has ordered him to acquire an opportunity at who his identity is. Probably in a way that soured his mood with his warrior's honor and whatnot.
"I will." He affirmed, almost biting his lip. "Only if… Only if you give us an idea of where your tale originated." His body became a bit more tense at this. Silver doesn't really care as his identity is not something that will be a problem for him, though he really didn't like the one who owned Diarmuid as the slave he was. It just wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.
"Shuare~." Silver's drawled-out response along with his slacking body gave plenty of opportunities to attack. All of it screaming that it would be a very bad idea to do so to all the experienced warriors around. "Can't exactly figure out who I am If I don't give an idea of who am I now can't I?"
"What time in humanity's history can you possibly exist in to be considered a hero? You who are so disgraceful with every sentence you-" Arturia was cut off from her tirade when Silver turned around chugging straight from a whiskey bottle. Almost dropping her jaw at how nonchalantly he drank straight from the bottle. Where did he even get it from? 'Why is he drinking now of all times? Does he have no dignity? And straight from the bottle no less?' Arturia though
"Hm?" He took in a couple more swigs until he reached half full of the bottle before wiping his mouth away, before taking one more to ensure he was ready "Aaaaaah~. That hiat the spot." Looking at his bottle longingly before taking a huff of annoyance that he has to address the cracking brick "I'm sorry. I kinda got bored with you yappin at me. Though a hero? Really?" He does a little twirl around, bottle in hand before gesturing to himself with said bottle almost swishing out "Who ever cused me of bein ah hero? I'am most certainly not un. Nevar was, nevar will be. What's the point of bein ah hero if die a horrible, worthless deth, lose everyone you lauve and care about, n'd everythin you have done has been rendered rendless moot?"
Both Diarmuid and Arutria froze, Diar's smilie eroded a bit jagged, while Arutria's finally cracked into a grimace. The other sla-servants, I meant servants, have felt those words cut a little too close to home. As in a dead-center bullseye. Silver turned again towards Diarmuid, a glint in the light managed to catch Arutria's eye, spotting a holster holding what she could only see as an inartistically made tomahawk with its design of familiar origin.
Though she has seen it, her mind was in complete disarray. Being on the backfoot dealing with the musings of what she could describe as an "insane, derogatory, foul-mouthed man of a fool!!!" ... I mean… she's not wrong. But probably not so expressive? But that's a very big maybe with how things were going.
I guarantee you strong feelings will be reciprocated one way or another
"N'd ta answer your question, Kinsman." Turning around sloppily with his left arm "balancing" himself while his right clutches his bottle a bit closely. Almost tripping forward as he centered himself "Early 18th century, give or tak'e. Or is it 17th? I can nevar remember clearly how historians say it clearly with their namin sense." His words almost became a slur as he went in for the plunge, tipping the bottle as the sweet, sweet, sweet whiskey slid down while gravity took care of the rest. Chugging loud as he did it to disgust Arturia's noble-trained temperaments.
"That…. Doesn't … Narrow… It down…" Diarmuid was a bit exasperated, as that was quite beyond his time and the knowledge from the pri-throne is falling to fill in the blanks. Even his master is stumped, though everyone was interested listening in as well, for a variety of reasons of course. All were stumped at his admission. All but one who was slowly able to put together the pieces.
"*CRASH*-" Silver smashed the bottle he finished on the ground, another attempt at unsettling them. Or to keep them guessing before he continued. Tired of the circles he was starting to make "-Course it does Diarmuid. You just not paying attention to the clues I have given." And for the second time tonight, another servant was on the backfoot.
"...…How?"
"Really? 'How'? Your seriously goin ta ask me tha't?" Silver was completely in a drunken stupor now. His body a bit too loose and his walking feet a bit too slow to stay still. Apparently, it did nothing to hinder him as he gestured towards Diarmuid's spears "Your damned spears ar a dead giveaway. Along with that stupid mark on your face. Did you think me daft enough to completely ignore something like that? Kinsman~?" Before even letting him respond, he answered for him. "Course ya did. Since the moment I decided to join in'a fun. I may be a fool with his screws loosened completely, but that don' mean I'm senile. I'm ah descendant of the Celtic, a Gaelic descendant. Those who continued on in da age of man as the time of myths and legends was ended. And thus, you ar kin." His tone was that of a man who had his dignity insulted while being more than courteous. Something that isn't to be taken too lightly.
He took another bottle of whiskey from his coat, popping off the cork with his teeth, spitting it out, and taking a quick swing off it while they digested the information he has given. His simile never shifted from its jagged form, though now it seems a bit sharper. Though now the servants begin to notice finally. They can't sense "assassin" at all, even though he's right in front of them, there is no presence, no magic, no shown usage of a noble phantasm or skill.
All but Arturia. Who finally let's loose a small scowl at Silver's inappropriate behavior unbecoming of a "Hero". Even if what Silver said is to be true. He still must have done something to qualify for the throne of heroes. Something to be considered heroic by the people, something to be considered a redeemable feature in this… 'Man'. Before her. She just doesn't see it, but it must be there somewhere. Even if this shameful behavior is unbecoming of this… Person? Hero? Man? Words cannot describe the correct word for the current target of her frustrations.
Nevertheless, she is a knight and king of the Britons. Thus, it is her duty befitting one of her station, as well as a fellow hero, to correct his behavior. By reasoning or force if it sadly, must be. Though if she is feeling a bit honest, she would feel a bit of joy at the vindicative pleasure of putting him in his place. It is unbecoming of her, but she will receive the respect she deserves. And if he dies of it? Then it's a tragic blessing. It is called a Holy Grail 'War' for a reason after all.
"You may not consider yourself a hero, assassin. But your presence here now proves that your are a hero. To be a hero is something you must emulate as an inspiration to all. That your worth has been proven through the deeds and actions you have-" "SHUT YOUR FUCKING GOB BEFORE I FILL IT WITH LEAD!!!"