Chapter 89
Charles Flynn
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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"Flynn? You there?" Roman asks over the comms. "Our sensors are being suppressed for some reason. We can't pick up anything outside of you."
"I'm here. Alive and well." I call in confirmation, looking over my Servants. "My away team, too."
"Good," Roman sighs, his holographic form slumping down a bit. "So. What do you see?"
"Well, I knew that the weather here was shit, but I never realized it was this bad." I joke, looking about. "The fog's thick as pea soup, and it smells... well, wrong. Feels a bit off, too. Galahad, you got anything?"
"I-" a woman screams off in the distance, and suddenly there's an iron grip around my wrist, dragging me off towards the imperiled lady at the speed of a runaway locomotive.
Jesus Christ! I think he just dislocated my arm!
Finally, I'm released, and slam into the Shielder's mighty back as he skids to a halt, shield out before him, incidentally slamming into a small body and sending them flying in the process.
I then crumple into an agonized heap, as Galahad, that son of a bitch, completely ignores me to look over a lump on the ground, which I know realize is a woman. Who's apparently been stabbed.
"Damnation. We didn't get here in time," Galahad says as he looks her over, gently closing her eyes. "She's dead."
"That's sad and all, but what the actual Hell, Galahad?" I growl, then wince as I jostle my shoulder.
He looks back almost guiltily, suddenly seeming to remember I'm here. "Ah. My apologies, Flynn. I heard a damsel in distress, and could do no less than rush to her aid."
"Why'd you drag me along?" I ask. "You dislocated my shoulder, Galahad."
"Oh. Well, I deduced that the fog is toxic, and if we were separated, you would most likely perish," he recounts. "Thus, I had to bring you with me."
"And you couldn't have just stayed where we were?" I snap, keenly aware of the fact that I'm separated from my other Servants, now.
"There was a damsel in distress." Galahad notes, as if the idea of just not helping her is utterly inconceivable. "But I will admit that I acted on instinct. I'm.... sorry, Flynn."
He apologizes like it physically pains him.
"Fine. Just relocate my shoulder, and then help me find the others."
He steps up and... I scream as it snaps back into place, and my entire world turns into pain.
"Unhand that woman, fiend!" a strident voice bellows. Galahad's up on his feet in an instant, his shield at the ready.
A horned, imposing outline is just barely visible through fog, and armored footsteps draw ever closer.
"Bold words from one of unknown intent," Galahad replies, his face fierce. "I know you not, good sir, but your shape belies a dark nature."
"Me the sinister one?" the figure scoffs. "Wretched harridan, I find you besides the body of one victim, and in the midst of raising your hands against another! Never shall I yield my name to a blackguard so unworthy of the honor!"
"Foul villain, recant your words, or taste my-" Galahad stops as the figure comes fully into view. "Sir Mordred? What the devil are you doing here?"
"'Tis only fitting that you should know me at a sight, fiend." the freshly identified Knight of the Round Table boasts, his surprisingly high-pitched voice laden with smugness. "For I am Mordred, heir of Arthur, and the King's only equal, bane of the wicked and unjust, and I shall be your doom."
"Mordred, it's me, Galahad."
The armored figure stops dead in his tracks, and the helmet slides away, revealing a fairly effeminate-looking blond. "Nice try, mate, but Galahad wasn't a woman."
"Neither were you, last time I checked."
"Oi, fuck off!"
"But, yes, the body's a new development, and hopefully a temporary one."
Mordred snorts. "Well, fine then, 'Sir Galahad,' if you're who you say you are, then tell me what happened when we set off on the Grail Quest together."
"Your horse got spooked and tossed you into a tree, at which point a beehive fell on you and covered you in honey and angry bees. Then the bears showed up, and..."
"Okay! That's enough!" Mordred snaps, flushing in embarrassment. "I believe you."
"Finally."
"So..." they stand there for a minute or two, staring awkwardly at each other. "How'd all that happen?" he points at Galahad's borrowed bust.
"Long story. You got a base around here?"
"Yeah, there's this one guy I'm crashing with."
"Neat. Get me and my Master there, and I'll tell you the whole story."
"Wait, he's a guy?" Mordred asks incredulously.
"Yeah, he just screams like a little girl." Galahad explains with a grin.
I power through the pain enough to flip him off, and then promptly pass out.
"I'm here. Alive and well." I call in confirmation, looking over my Servants. "My away team, too."
"Good," Roman sighs, his holographic form slumping down a bit. "So. What do you see?"
"Well, I knew that the weather here was shit, but I never realized it was this bad." I joke, looking about. "The fog's thick as pea soup, and it smells... well, wrong. Feels a bit off, too. Galahad, you got anything?"
"I-" a woman screams off in the distance, and suddenly there's an iron grip around my wrist, dragging me off towards the imperiled lady at the speed of a runaway locomotive.
Jesus Christ! I think he just dislocated my arm!
Finally, I'm released, and slam into the Shielder's mighty back as he skids to a halt, shield out before him, incidentally slamming into a small body and sending them flying in the process.
I then crumple into an agonized heap, as Galahad, that son of a bitch, completely ignores me to look over a lump on the ground, which I know realize is a woman. Who's apparently been stabbed.
"Damnation. We didn't get here in time," Galahad says as he looks her over, gently closing her eyes. "She's dead."
"That's sad and all, but what the actual Hell, Galahad?" I growl, then wince as I jostle my shoulder.
He looks back almost guiltily, suddenly seeming to remember I'm here. "Ah. My apologies, Flynn. I heard a damsel in distress, and could do no less than rush to her aid."
"Why'd you drag me along?" I ask. "You dislocated my shoulder, Galahad."
"Oh. Well, I deduced that the fog is toxic, and if we were separated, you would most likely perish," he recounts. "Thus, I had to bring you with me."
"And you couldn't have just stayed where we were?" I snap, keenly aware of the fact that I'm separated from my other Servants, now.
"There was a damsel in distress." Galahad notes, as if the idea of just not helping her is utterly inconceivable. "But I will admit that I acted on instinct. I'm.... sorry, Flynn."
He apologizes like it physically pains him.
"Fine. Just relocate my shoulder, and then help me find the others."
He steps up and... I scream as it snaps back into place, and my entire world turns into pain.
"Unhand that woman, fiend!" a strident voice bellows. Galahad's up on his feet in an instant, his shield at the ready.
A horned, imposing outline is just barely visible through fog, and armored footsteps draw ever closer.
"Bold words from one of unknown intent," Galahad replies, his face fierce. "I know you not, good sir, but your shape belies a dark nature."
"Me the sinister one?" the figure scoffs. "Wretched harridan, I find you besides the body of one victim, and in the midst of raising your hands against another! Never shall I yield my name to a blackguard so unworthy of the honor!"
"Foul villain, recant your words, or taste my-" Galahad stops as the figure comes fully into view. "Sir Mordred? What the devil are you doing here?"
"'Tis only fitting that you should know me at a sight, fiend." the freshly identified Knight of the Round Table boasts, his surprisingly high-pitched voice laden with smugness. "For I am Mordred, heir of Arthur, and the King's only equal, bane of the wicked and unjust, and I shall be your doom."
"Mordred, it's me, Galahad."
The armored figure stops dead in his tracks, and the helmet slides away, revealing a fairly effeminate-looking blond. "Nice try, mate, but Galahad wasn't a woman."
"Neither were you, last time I checked."
"Oi, fuck off!"
"But, yes, the body's a new development, and hopefully a temporary one."
Mordred snorts. "Well, fine then, 'Sir Galahad,' if you're who you say you are, then tell me what happened when we set off on the Grail Quest together."
"Your horse got spooked and tossed you into a tree, at which point a beehive fell on you and covered you in honey and angry bees. Then the bears showed up, and..."
"Okay! That's enough!" Mordred snaps, flushing in embarrassment. "I believe you."
"Finally."
"So..." they stand there for a minute or two, staring awkwardly at each other. "How'd all that happen?" he points at Galahad's borrowed bust.
"Long story. You got a base around here?"
"Yeah, there's this one guy I'm crashing with."
"Neat. Get me and my Master there, and I'll tell you the whole story."
"Wait, he's a guy?" Mordred asks incredulously.
"Yeah, he just screams like a little girl." Galahad explains with a grin.
I power through the pain enough to flip him off, and then promptly pass out.