Once upon a time, in a land not so far away...
You wake to the feeling of being watched. Of a set of unfamiliar eyes, of warm breath on the back of your neck. A jolt back to the land of the living, and it's gone. No matter how quick you are, how sneaky, the source of the disruption has long since disappeared, so you have no choice but to try and ignore it. To continue on with your day and try to set that moment of strangeness aside.
You eat, drink, speak with others. Perhaps you explore a little. Whatever it is you choose to do for the day, that feeling from the morning won't return. And by the time the sun sets and the moon glows brightly above, you've likely set those moments of strangeness aside. It's not like it's anything new, after all.
It's the same again for the next few days. No better, no worse. Something best ignored, right?
A speck of blood on the doorframe. That wasn't there before, was it?
A snap of twigs in the distance. A crunch of leaves.
Claw marks gouged deeply into the door.
Into the wall above your bed.
Scraps of red fabric, turned darker with blood. Pieces of fur. Of flesh.
Do you run and hide? Do you fight? Whatever you choose, it's definitely time to make sure your body parts aren't scattered next...
...what a horribly big mouth you have.
--------------------
Since first waking up on the island, characters have been stuck with that feeling of being watched. It isn't a constant. Isn't more than a few seconds at a time, dotted throughout the day. Investigation has never turned up much, and there's never been any sightings of the cause of it all.
Until now.
Throughout the first half of the week, characters will find themselves suffering from that feeling of being watched on a far more constant basis. Rather than it being a one-off, few seconds occurrence each day, that feeling will last for minutes at a time, and on multiple occasions.
However, it isn't until the fifth day that they'll start stumbling across physical signs of their monitoring. There are claw marks on doors. Spots of blood on the paths outside. A crack of twigs in the forests, or the imprint of bloodied paws in the snow.
Ten days in and those signs start finding their way indoors. Wet footprints, tinged with red. Claw marks in the walls, the floor. Torn sheets and the smell of wet...something. Whatever it is that's been watching you, its finally decided to come and say hello.
Two weeks in and characters will begin to have sightings of the creature, its fur dark and its eyes a glowing yellow. At times it looks like a wolf, prowling in the distance. At other times, it's walking on its hind legs, almost human were it not for the muzzle full of gleaming sharp teeth. Get too close, and it slips away like a shadow, gone between one blink and the next. It decides when to reach out to characters, not the other way round.
It's after characters finally get a good look at the creature that it starts leaving...gifts. Characters will start to find familiar items from their home worlds amidst the mess. The remains of a childhood pet, perhaps. Photographs of loved ones, faces torn almost beyond recognition. It's only once it delivers its final gift that the creature retreats to the trees again: a blood-splattered item of clothing that clearly belongs to the person the character misses the most at the time, alive or dead.
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Mordred | Fate/Apocrypha | OTA
“What the hell is this?”
Angrily stomping through the forest in a full set of armor probably isn't the best way to handle waking up in a strange place, but Mordred is definitely pissed off about this. One, it's not where she's supposed to be and two, there's something out there watching her, or there was? Yeah, the hell with that. Oh, and three, her Master's not here, which raises even more questions about what's going on.
“Hey, whoever's watching out there, get out here now. I'm not gonna ask again.”
She's not expecting that presence to show itself, especially since it seems to have disappeared, but she's still looking as she heads in the direction of the lake, the mystery pack in her free hand.
[B, five days in]
It's been five days. Five days of being separated from the Grail War and all of that. Five days of also having that creeping feeling that she's being watched return for a moment every day, with nothing to show for it. Which hasn't done much for her mood.. If it's an Asssassin or some sort of creature, Mordred wishes it would just show itself already.
But nothing yet, except for these new prints in the snow. She'll stop to check those out, kneeling down to inspect them closer, but also keeping an eye out just in case whatever left them decides to return. And also so she's not caught off guard if someone else shows up to volunteer information about whatever left them.
[C, two weeks in]
She's got answers now as to what the hell that was, and hasn't taken too kindly to any of this crap. Not the wolf dodging her attempts to cut it down, and definitely not it leaving creepy presents for her. No thanks. She's not even going to get into that last present, that mystery wolf is going down for that one. So she'll head out, sword in tow, looking for the thing. Mordred hasn't seen it since that last present, but it's got to be out here somewhere, right?
“Tell me you've seen that damn wolf around here, I'm sick of this disappearing act crap it keeps pulling."
She'll just flag down whoever she runs into, hoping somebody can help her with tracking this thing. The hell if she's letting it show up leave weird shit at her door and then ghost on her. There's got to be some sort of consequences for that, not just because of her pride as a knight but because this is a pain in the ass she can do without.
C
If there was any stress or fear in Howzer, he was doing his best to avoid showing it, especially when he didn't make it a habit of wearing his helm.
"Hey--I haven't seen you around, sir," Small-talk could at least help, he hoped. "So, you're being plagued by that beast too, huh?"
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Sorry, Mordred's in a pretty terrible mood. Anyone would be in a terrible mood with that thing leaving bloody presents for them. And it sounds like it's been happening to this guy too. Maybe he knows something she can use to get even with it, which is probably unlikely but that thought doesn't occur to Mordred at the moment.
“And yeah, it's been leaving a bunch of unwanted garbage at my place.”
She's definitely mad about it, that much is clear, but there's a hint of something else in her voice. There aren't very many people Mordred actually likes, so having it leave screwed up reminders of them makes it all the worse.
“Figured I'd teach it a lesson for messing with me, but I have to find the damn thing first.”
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Howzer hadn't considered whether or not the wolf had been attacking other people. Even if his priority was to find a way back to the mainland, there was no way he could ignore someone else getting caught up in the beast's rampage. Howzer released his fist and began to pluck off his gauntlet, reaching into his armor for the pack he found when he woke up weeks before.
"Alright, so it's obvious it's not just any old wolf. If it's doing this to someone else, then it's got to be something much more intelligent."
He flipped open the satchel to pull out a little-salted jerky, taking a quick bite out of a piece. Unwittingly, he forgot the usual lesson he always had to be taught--not talking with a full mouth.
"So... It could be a spirit or a magic-caster who can shapeshift. Do you know much about either?"
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“I've met mages before. Doesn't seem like any magecraft I've seen.”
She's definitely had her share of run ins with magic users. Both in Camelot and since being summoned into the Grail War, but nothing quite like that wolf. The closest that comes to mind is Frankenstein's Master's ability to summon animal familiars, but she's pretty sure that wolf and his ability are two completely different things with entirely different skill levels. Which is annoying, it'd be nice to have an easy answer for this one.
“What about you? You brought it up, so I'm guessing you have some experience too.”
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One final chew and swallow later, Howzer wore his heart on his sleeve. Utterly incapable of dealing with most enemies who relied on subterfuge and deception, he felt woefully inadequate having a question tossed back at him with any sort of expectation of expertise. There was a clear flinch in him as he was forced to really think about it.
"Well, yes," He began slipping his gauntlet back on, clipping it to the mail beneath with little effort. "I guess I've fought a lot of magic casters and worked with just as many before but I couldn't say I have experience with what's causing--"
A sudden relapse of memory caught him mid-sentence and he held up an armored mitt, interrupting himself.
"Gowther--the Goat's Sin of Lust! He has magic that could alter memories and make you forget you've ever seen him and it was all done without any visible trace. I doubt it's exactly the same but... Given how evasive whatever this thing is, maybe it's similar."
Almost pleading, he turned a worrisome smile in Mordred's direction before barking out a little bit of a nervous laugh, "I can't say I know how to trap someone that can cover their tracks like Gowther's, though! Haha!"
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“You can't say....”
She's at a loss here. She really is. What does she even do with this? Give up and storm off? Threaten him for wasting her time? There's a moment of silence before she starts laughing, planting her sword in the ground to keep her balance.
“You can't say you know how to trap something like that, and I can't seem to track it or land a blow. We're screwed, aren't we?”
It's not that she's happy about it, it's the exact opposite. But these last two weeks have been such a mess, she can't help but laugh about it.
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"Heh. Maybe," He planted his hands on his hips, looking aside from Mordred to the woods. There was a momentary glance towards her sword--something he couldn't help but notice. His father, a renowned blacksmith, couldn't have possibly crafted something that ornate. Even the presence of it was a little scary but it was worth admiration. Maybe if he saw it swung in battle, he'd take the time to praise it and the knight wielding it but--
"But... I can't help but get a little pissed off thinking that I may not be able to do anything," He reached behind his back, drawing up his lance and tapping the butt of it against the soft, cold dirt beneath his feet. Mordred's mood was infectious.
"Whether or not we're in a bad way doesn't matter, does it? Either way, I've got a score to settle with that thing and I don't care about outsmarting it or unraveling its tricks. All I want to do is make sure it doesn't hurt anybody else! As a knight, I can't possibly let it get away!"
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She gets it. She gets along better with people like this. It's not that she shirked her duty or anything back in Camelot. Okay, rebelling against the king probably counts as that, but before that she carried out her duties when ordered! It's just that she can't really be one of those super strict super formal knights. It's just not her.
“So let's get going already then. Either we come back with its pelt, or it gets away again, but at least we tried.”
She'll start walking towards the woods, but stops and looks back at him.
“Besides, I saw you eyeing Clarent, it'd be a shame if I didn't get to show off a little.”
She won't show off too much, just because the king apparently leveled forests while hunting doesn't mean she's going to do it too. Mostly because she's not sure how that all works without a Master here, but look, if they find the wolf, she swears it's going down.
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Still, if he got a chance to put down the monster wolf, he'd probably jump at the chance to take it down. Even if he had suppressed it, he was still shaken up by the sight of his mother's bloody apron.
Following after, Howzer adjusted his belt and pack so it was more secure at his hip--better so that it wouldn't get in the way once he had to move or draw his lance. When Mordred turned back, he paused and watched her, curious.
Crap, she saw--
"Oh, well--don't worry if my eyes wandered a bit! My old man's one of the kingdom's best blacksmiths, so I can't help but recognize when something's professionally made," He added, giving Mordred an excited grin. "My lance is one of his pieces! I'm not sure my old man can compete with something that powerful but I'd love a chance to show his work isn't anything to scoff at, Sir Knight."
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“Call me Saber.”
That works well enough for now. Not Saber of Red, that doesn't apply here, so there's no need to specify factions unless the other one shows up. And if he does, that's a whole other mess she's not going to think about unless she has to.
“And your dad made that?”
That's kind of awkward for her since she's wielding a sword she stole from her dad, but she'll try not to dwell on that anymore than she already is.
“All right, if we find it, I'll give you a chance to show it off too.”
B
Gamora stares only briefly before nodding to acknowledge their presence. "Any luck?" She asks like she expects none, but will always ask anyways in case she's wrong.
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They're tracks, she can see what direction they're going in, but she doesn't expect to find much by following them. She'll still give it a shot, but...
“Bastard's good at leaving tracks behind, but nothing that leads to it.”
She just sighs, irritated with the whole thing. She's a knight of the Round Table (or was before wrecking everything), she should've been able to track the thing and bring it down no problem, not be confounded by mystery tracks and things like that.
And the sigh did little to relieve her annoyance, so she'll look off in the direction of the the tracks and yell. Probably won't help, but hey, it's something.
"Either show up and get your ass kicked or quit with these stupid games!"
C
Even if it has been acting rather odd, Tsume's been willing to give the creature the benefit of the doubt. There was no one way that a wolf reacted to being around people. Some kept their distance, some preferred to stay right in their midst, and some even seemed to prefer the company of humans to being around wolves at all.
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She doesn't sound mad, just confused, her helm tilting slightly. Why would anyone not want this thing running around scratching up their stuff and leaving creepy ass mementos behind? In Mordred's opinion, it's a pain at best, so it's better off dealt with.
“Or do you like it getting into your shit and freaking everyone out?”
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Tsume scowls at her words. While he hasn't been sure of what the wolf is doing, he's sure it has its reasons. "Ever think maybe it's trying to tell you something? Or have you been too busy throwing things at it to find out?"
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“There's better ways to send a message than scratching shit up and leaving bloody scraps of...”
You know what, she's not going to finish that sentence.
“The hell kind of message does that send anyways?”
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Granted, he hadn't been at all fond when the wolf had brought him Toboe's blood-stained bracelets, but if he'd at all thought that the wolf had hurt the small runt of a wolf that Tsume had opened his hear to, everyone else here would have had to be content with getting a piece of whatever was leftover when he was done. But Tsume refuses to believe the wolf has done anything so terrible as that.
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She's still at a loss here and she's really tempted to just snap at him. None of that seems to be helping anything or anyone from what she can tell. But she doesn't know everything. In fact, she doesn't know a lot, so maybe she should hear him out. Maybe. She's not very patient, so hopefully he's got a good answer here. It's also why she's not asking about doing the same thing because she's just going to hope he means trying to be helpful and not that he'd do exactly what the wolf's been doing. That'd be a whole other mess to try and address.
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Wolves, unless they'd been raised among people, were pretty poor communicators when it came to talking with people. Sure, Tsume's not sure he's getting what this one is trying to say yet either, but then, he's willing to give the wolf the benefit of the doubt until completely proven wrong.
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Or at least that's Mordred's take on it. But she knows that's not exactly right either because she can't really see that person getting wrecked by a wolf. There are other options too, like they're hurt and the wolf is bringing them these things to get their attention, like some sort of dog trying, to help, but that doesn't match with the other things that've been left behind.
“And even if it's not that, it's definitely trying to screw with us by leaving a bunch of weird pictures and crap around.”
She's just assuming that's the wolf, not that it makes a lot of sense for a wolf to have pictures and things like that. But then again, magic and magecraft don't have to make sense to her, they just work, and not being a Caster or mage, she doesn't put too much thought into it.
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"Well, hunt it if you like, but you won't get any help from me." Indeed, the next time he saw the wolf, even if it was at a distance, he was likely to give it a warning. Tsume's inaction had cost the lives of wolves before and he won't do it again.
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“Hey, if somebody else is putting it up to it, I'll teach them a lesson about sending people creepy shit too.”
She's got this. Kind of. There's a confidence in her tone that totally isn't there to hide the fact that the possibility didn't occur to her until just now. But that's fine, she'll just keeping going on her way and try to not think about that one too much. If he's not going to help, why should she put too much stock into it anyways? Thoughts like that are probably a part of why she's not making any progress with this, but that's not something that really occurs to her either.