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☘ 017; [video/action]
You know, I really should be...y'know, angry. I don't lose fights. I don't lose anything. I'm the guy that never lost so much as a goddamned fidchell match in thirty years. So I should be angry I lost that tournament.
[Goldenrod City. 11:30 PM. Saturday night.]
[Lancer is, as any medieval Irishman coping with problems, thoroughly drunk. As evidenced by the half-empty bottle of what the hell ever in clear sight onscreen. Lancer himself is sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, snickering. At his side is a baby Squirtle, rocking back and forth on its shell and playing with its tail.]
But nope. I don't get angry. I ain't exactly stupid, I know what used to happen when I got angry. Who cares? As long as I'm alive, I'll just keep improving until I'm the best there is. Just like home. Dammit, this feels like I'm starting over from scratch.
. . .
[And then he srs'd.]
Hey. Hey. Johto. Sit the hell down and shut the hell up, 'm gonna tell you a story.
So this legend begins in-...shit, what century was it? I bet Saber knows. Pretty sure I came along before she did, though. Probably not by much. Couple hundred years? Eh, who the hell cares.
So there was this kid, once. Tiny little smartmouth named Setanta. Setanta mac Sualtam. When this kid was seven, he decided 'hey, screw staying at home, I'm gonna run off and be famous.' And his mother was all 'shit I raised a crazy bastard, door's right over there.'
Oh, yeah, and this kid was kinda royalty. Big goddamn deal. Actually, that probably made it a bigger deal when he almost got eaten by a blacksmith's wolfhound. That'd probably explain those weird panicked looks they were giving me. So this little kid's got a huge watchdog with a mouth full of teeth running right at him.
Without gettin' a scratch, he kills it and freaks everyone out. 'parently the thing was really damn good at its job until that kid strolled on by. The wolfhound's owner, a druid, and the king were all standing around freaking out because apparently the son of a princess almost getting his face chewed off is a big deal. While they're flipping out, this kid Setanta pretty much says 'calm the fuck down, if you need a watchdog that badly then I'll do it.'
That's how he changed his name.
His life kind of sucked after that. He met a great teacher, but once he left her he could never see her again. Crazy bullshit divine magic, don't ask me how it works. Oh, and he had a really good friend--close as any brother. Ended up having to kill him, so that sucked all around.
Wait, hang on. No. It didn't all suck. See, the girl he liked--her father didn't like him. So he trained for a year to improve his skills--came back, killed like twenty guards, stole all his shit, and eloped with his daughter. Because screw her father, they were gonna get married if it killed this stupid kid.
[He took a drink from the bottle at his side, laughing bitterly.]
...So--so this kid, right...he grows up to be a huge goddamn deal. Stands alone against an army, kills everythin' that's out to get him, best knight that ever lived and all that shit. Prince of Light, some people called him. Stupid name, always hated that one. Prince of Light. Sounds like some kinda faerie's title. Do I look like a goddamn sidhe to you people--hang...hang on. I had a point. I think. What was I doin' here?
Oh...yeah. Stupid Setanta got everythin' he wanted, in the end. Almost everythin'. He's famous, still is. And where that idiot is right now? Might as well be paradise compared to where he came from.
Got a question for ya, if you're still listenin'. Why isn't he happy, Johto?
[Lancer scowled faintly, though it was halfhearted at best. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his head on folded arms, looking oddly deadpan. His Squirtle rolled off of its back and curled up against his feet, looking worried.]
...wonder if Connla would know.
[Goldenrod City. 11:30 PM. Saturday night.]
[Lancer is, as any medieval Irishman coping with problems, thoroughly drunk. As evidenced by the half-empty bottle of what the hell ever in clear sight onscreen. Lancer himself is sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, snickering. At his side is a baby Squirtle, rocking back and forth on its shell and playing with its tail.]
But nope. I don't get angry. I ain't exactly stupid, I know what used to happen when I got angry. Who cares? As long as I'm alive, I'll just keep improving until I'm the best there is. Just like home. Dammit, this feels like I'm starting over from scratch.
. . .
[And then he srs'd.]
Hey. Hey. Johto. Sit the hell down and shut the hell up, 'm gonna tell you a story.
So this legend begins in-...shit, what century was it? I bet Saber knows. Pretty sure I came along before she did, though. Probably not by much. Couple hundred years? Eh, who the hell cares.
So there was this kid, once. Tiny little smartmouth named Setanta. Setanta mac Sualtam. When this kid was seven, he decided 'hey, screw staying at home, I'm gonna run off and be famous.' And his mother was all 'shit I raised a crazy bastard, door's right over there.'
Oh, yeah, and this kid was kinda royalty. Big goddamn deal. Actually, that probably made it a bigger deal when he almost got eaten by a blacksmith's wolfhound. That'd probably explain those weird panicked looks they were giving me. So this little kid's got a huge watchdog with a mouth full of teeth running right at him.
Without gettin' a scratch, he kills it and freaks everyone out. 'parently the thing was really damn good at its job until that kid strolled on by. The wolfhound's owner, a druid, and the king were all standing around freaking out because apparently the son of a princess almost getting his face chewed off is a big deal. While they're flipping out, this kid Setanta pretty much says 'calm the fuck down, if you need a watchdog that badly then I'll do it.'
That's how he changed his name.
His life kind of sucked after that. He met a great teacher, but once he left her he could never see her again. Crazy bullshit divine magic, don't ask me how it works. Oh, and he had a really good friend--close as any brother. Ended up having to kill him, so that sucked all around.
Wait, hang on. No. It didn't all suck. See, the girl he liked--her father didn't like him. So he trained for a year to improve his skills--came back, killed like twenty guards, stole all his shit, and eloped with his daughter. Because screw her father, they were gonna get married if it killed this stupid kid.
[He took a drink from the bottle at his side, laughing bitterly.]
...So--so this kid, right...he grows up to be a huge goddamn deal. Stands alone against an army, kills everythin' that's out to get him, best knight that ever lived and all that shit. Prince of Light, some people called him. Stupid name, always hated that one. Prince of Light. Sounds like some kinda faerie's title. Do I look like a goddamn sidhe to you people--hang...hang on. I had a point. I think. What was I doin' here?
Oh...yeah. Stupid Setanta got everythin' he wanted, in the end. Almost everythin'. He's famous, still is. And where that idiot is right now? Might as well be paradise compared to where he came from.
Got a question for ya, if you're still listenin'. Why isn't he happy, Johto?
[Lancer scowled faintly, though it was halfhearted at best. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his head on folded arms, looking oddly deadpan. His Squirtle rolled off of its back and curled up against his feet, looking worried.]
...wonder if Connla would know.
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[Not at the moment, though.]
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Not a whole lot of evilslayin' that needs doing around here, though.
...Shit, I'm drunk aren't I?
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...Kinda.
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If I didn't have a weapon, I'd have just kept fightin' until I lost my hands. Or my head. Can't fight without one of those.
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Probably.
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