savetheearth | this shits goin on youtube

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Who: Arthur York, OPEN TO ALL
When: June 2nd, Evening
Where: Lock City, The Park
What: sword in the stone, hrrrrrr
Warnings: Probably PG-13 for language, at least...?

Traffic had switched from the downtown areas to the less densely used streets, so Arthur knew better than the take the bus unless he wanted to wait forty five minutes to get on and 90 minutes to get across town after finally finding a seat. Not as much damage was done as he thought, given that most of it was done to cars and the pavement. Only two people dead, according to the news--but, plenty more injured.

Thoughts drifted around in the back of his head as he walked through the park, looking to make a decent cut through to avoid having to deal with people on the streets. He pulled up his hood, figuring it wouldn't be too crazy if he stopped by the bar and bothered George to keep his mind off of things. With a sharp whistle and the soaring sound air being cut, Arthur recoiled as a burning hot chunk of metal smashed into the pavement in front of him, sending him onto his ass.

"Shit, what the--" Arthur raised both hands in front of his face, a few other people walking along the pavement having been blown back as the piece of metal flared up, glowing a bright white color before it began to slowly dim. When the light had all left it, it was just a sword lodged in the pavement, cleanly stabbed into it as if it belonged there. Though, the sword itself was made with extreme complexity, the engravings on it perfect down to a machine's precision.

To complete the cliche, his jaw dropped as he and the half dozen or so people there gawked at the sword, not sure what to make of it. Still, he knew what it was.

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Killian had finished his work for Thorir early so he'd gotten roped into walking Rösvka (not Thalfi, since the Newfie was big enough and her plus the Leonberger would end with Killian being the one who was getting walked) to the park Monday evening. She was a little easier to control than Thalfi, thank God, but still a pain in the ass. If it weren't for the durability Echos, he doesn't think he'd be able to walk even her--and he works with horses.

Of course, not as big a pain in the ass as a sword flying from the sky and landing in the pavement with a thunk. As if the car monster wasn't bad enough.

Killian walks over, keeping a tight grip on Rosie's leash. "Well, that....that sure is a Thing."

Arthur's eyes heaved back and forth between the people around the sword, including Killian. He couldn't speak. This guy, Arthur knew--but, it was tough to get words out when one was in the middle of a terrifying moment. One man reached over and prodded the sword with a stick, which didn't warrant any reaction from the sword. After some time, someone decided to try and grab it by the handle, trying to yank it out. They all knew the story, but it wasn't yet registering to anyone that it was in any way similar.

Only Arthur saw it for what it was right away, because he had been there on that hill before.

Finally, he spoke, "It's there, isn't it? I'm not hallucinating?"

"Oh, yeah, it's there alright." Killian recognized the guy, sort of, or at least if he was wrong he figured he was Numbered. "There is a sword in the cement and it fell from the sky. Think we pissed off a god somewhere?" Though Killian was pretty sure thunderbolts and firestorms were more what a god would send from the sky and not a sword.

He felt somewhat relieved that everyone else seemed to look just as surprised and uneasy by the whole thing. A few more people were coming over to look at the sword and Arthur kept his eyes glued on it even as he spoke to Killian.

"It's bad news, either way," It came out easily enough, but--he had to distract himself. Look away from it. Do something else. People began trying their hand at trying to pull the sword out, so he set his eyes on Killian's dog. "Hey. What's his name?"

"Her. It's Rösvka," he replied, still looking at the sword. It's an impressive freaking sword, he could tell that much, but he wasn't his uncle. He couldn't tell just what kind of sword it was. "And she's my uncle's, really, but I stuck walking her."

A five foot nothing teenager walking a Newfoundland. Yep.

"Oh. Rosvka," He repeated after Killian, ruining the poor dog's name. It was enough to snap Arthur out of thinking about the sword, anyway. Getting hit with that accent was enough to carry him well out of whatever on Earth he was thinking about--at least just for a few moments.

"I was thinking about getting a pet," He continued, a little loftily.

Killian snorted. "I typically just call her Rosie, though I'm finally managing to get her name right sixty percent of the time. Icelandic." He shook his head. "So, uh. The sword yours? 'Cause if it is you might wanna get it out of the ground and get outta here before the cops come."

Arthur was broken away from his happy distraction by reality. Killian drew Arthur's eyes back to the sword and he nearly winced. This guy could tell--he was the likely owner? Well, it must have been obvious. Somebody who also used the network who had spoken to him. He knew he was a Numbered, so--

He answered slowly, "I'm not sure if I want it."

Part of Killian wanted to be nice about it. He knew how much this sort of thing sucked, after all. The other part of him, however, knew that this sword needed to be taken care of before something worse happened.

"At least get it out of the ground so people'll fuck off and go away?" He raised his voice at the last bit, glaring at some of the rubberneckers around.

It was no good. Arthur was just a bit distracted by Killian, but then Saretha was there. He looked between the two, his eyes almost begging for help. Two people then, acknowledging him as the source. It was inescapable. He had to take it before it created an even bigger scene.

"Fine," his words stole the warmth in the air. Arthur pushed ahead, his hand reaching out among the people reaching for it to grab it firmly by the handle. Excalibur's presence suddenly burst once again, lightbulbs bursting in street lamps all around them. Electronics shut off and the air became frigid as the sword stole away heat. Wisps of yellow 'heat' rose from the ground, stolen away from the Earth and into the sword's blade. Arthur watched it awhile, his face illuminated until the lights suddenly died--the light itself in the sword disappearing in favor of the blade going completely dead. In the next moment, the blade itself became even more intricate--markings forming on the edge as the sound of turning gears overtook it.

In the next moment, the sword was dormant again and Arthur was starting to run away with it.

Before, Killian would have just let Arthur run off. Right now, though, following seemed to be the best idea. He clicked his tongue at Rosie and took off, tugging the Newfie back so she didn't drag him along.

"So, uh, what the hell was with the arctic blast and the power outage?" Thank God for Dwarven durability. "Or do you not know either?"

He couldn't explain how he knew. Everything Arthur knew and felt was sheer instinct. The sword was still warm in his hand, showing that what he stole away wasn't gone. It was just being contained. The tension in him was fading, but he still maintained it. He was holding something very important to him, but the simple presence of it made him nauseous in more ways than one.

Arthur was excited to have it, despite the insurmountable dread in his heart.

"It stole heat," He responded tiredly, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one from the crowd was following. "It's a sword that blinds its enemies."

He had read about it. Every single tidbit he could about Arthur. Excalibur was the most terrifying thing in the world to him and giving it to a 'dragon' seemed as if it were the world's worst mistake.

Killian glanced back as well, not seeing anyone. Good. Back to the sword issue.

"Like literally 'look-at-this-sword-with-unworthy-eyes' Holy Grail blind or 'oh-my-god-someone-turn-off-the-lights' blind?" he asked. "Because, uh, I don't have vision. Where are you--we--heading?"

He's been in this city too damn long if this is how he reacts to swords falling from the sky and being told they can blind people.

"I..." Arthur kept running, finally deciding to slip the sword into the back of his hood, assuming that it would be steady enough to hold the thing in place. He couldn't have been any more wrong. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, completely losing what Killian said. Excalibur, even with minimal force, cut through his hoodie and his shirt, stabbing halfway into the dirt just from its weight.

"...Don't know where I'm going."

He said, his shirt and hoodie suddenly falling forward onto the ground, leaving him plenty exposed.

"Oh, hell. Here." Killian stopped, forcing Rosie to stop as well. Setting the leash down and stepping on it so she couldn't run off as easily, Killian pulled his shirt off and tossed it to Arthur, leaving him in his undershirt. "D'you have a scabbard for that thing or do you need one? Pretty sure mine won't fit it, but I might have an old leather jacket that'll work for now if you need something."

"Ugh," Arthur looked at his severed clothes, reaching over to catch the shirt as Killian tossed it at him. "Thanks."

He slipped it on as quickly as he could, picking up the sword while looking back to see if anymore people followed, "It's a little tight, but I'm alright."

If anything, Arthur used used to hand-me-downs from a smaller older brother. Kyle bullied him a lot despite the fact that he was nearly half his size.

"I don't think anybody followed. Think it's cause the lights went out?"

Killian nodded. "They're probably calling the cops or ran off," he replied, picking up Rosie's leash. "My place, or well, my uncle's place isn't that far from here. Let's get that old jacket so you can carry that thing without winding up a stripper."

Shaking his head, Arthur held the sword as carefully as he could, trying to keep the sharp edge away from literally everything.

"It might cut right through it. Tell you what--I think I'm gonna run. Though, I can't really take you with me."

"Hey, I just came running because I was worried." He grinned. "Get outta here, and if anyone spots me and asks me where you went, I lost sight of you or something."

There was a distinct, cutting pause from Arthur. He felt guilty for running like that, but he wasn't in the best place and Killian didn't deserve the inevitable attention that would come if anyone questioned him. Arthur nodded and spoke up, "Sorry."

Just before he took off, jumping clear out of the park in one step.

Sometimes, Saretha just enjoys a bit of peace and quiet away from attendants, meetings, and classes. The park is generally good for that. Especially in the evening, past when anyone's around to just hang out and enjoy the sun. No kids. Perfect.

That's when things weren't randomly smashing into the ground from afar. So eventually - wearing the same dress that tried to eat her two days before - she is pushing rather forcefully through the crowd to see...

"...Arthur."

Her eyebrows raise, and she looks from him to the sword. Then back again. Something clicks and: "You cannot be serious."

"Ah?" He'd broken away from Killian for a bit, his expression suddenly becoming wide awake. As if hit in the stomach, he felt his whole body tighten in reflex. The simple recitation of his name made him think of the old man, impatiently tapping his staff on the stone. The old man kept pointing to the sword, smiling and reciting his warning, over and over again as if he were planning on enjoying what would come next.

Someone pushed in front of Arthur before he could respond to Saretha, trying to grab the sword and pry it free. Arthur gave her a pleading look before his face seemed to drain of color, returning to the sword as if it were going to explode. For all he knew, it probably would.

Saretha steps around people until she's closer, and makes a small gesture towards the sword. "Arthur. Your name is Arthur, and that is..."

You know what, she doesn't even want to really say it. It seems preposterous, as such as it is considered by the woman wearing monster clothing that transforms into something some Playboy Bunnies would probably be shy about parading around in at daylight hours. She shakes her head.

"Unless this is some idea of a joke, an echo like that..."

He nearly only heard static. As if the signals between his eyes and brain had been severed, Arthur only followed Saretha's gesture by instinct alone. He heard his name. Killian told him to grab it and Saretha simply walked him right up to the point and shoved it through his chest.

"Fine," he didn't answer her assumption. He didn't need to. Arthur wouldn't have been able to blow it off in the first place. Rather, he took one step towards the sword and pushed apart the crowd. His hand found the handle of the blade and without so much as a struggle, he pried the sword free of the ground.

The end result wasn't the same as one might imagine from fables, but it had the same sort of message. The air went frigid as heat was stolen from the park. Lights burst and fizzled out and electronics simply shut off. Yellow wisps of heat rose from the ground, trailing towards the blade held aloft in Arthur's hand before merging with it. The blade suddenly flared with light before the heat died down and it 'changed', suddenly sealing itself. Gears whirled inside the blade, clicking and locking into place by some unknown force before it all settled down.

Without any prompting, Arthur ran. He would get asked questions. It would be the end of his life as he knew it and he couldn't be there, anymore. What he grabbed from the pavement wasn't just a sword--it was a weapon made specifically for a dragon. He needed to get it away from the crowd.]

Well, that all ends up... rather impressive. Even though her stance remains the same, interest dances in Saretha's eyes as the sword is drawn. Its power is immediate and obvious, Arthur's right to wield it all the more so.

Then he runs.

She could give chase. Very easily, in fact. She considers it, but... at this point, to what end would that reach?

No, for now... Perhaps its better to let sleeping dogs lie. Arthur was becoming a rather prominent individual.

She'd find out more on this in time.

Of course. The night Iskender takes the shortcut through the park, something like this happens. Well, at least it isn't Godzilla or something. Yet. What does it say when a sword coming up in the middle of the sidewalk is tame?

Still, he's going to stay a little distance away - not too far, but he won't come right up, either.

"Are you all right?"

He looked absolutely helpless. Iskender registered in Arthur's mind, but he was still looking at the sword as if it were the worst thing in the world to happen him. Technically, it was both an incorrect and a correct statement in the same breadth of time.

"I'm fine," He answered uneasily, reaching up to fix his hoodie a bit closer to his brows.

Congratulations, Arthur, that's one of the least convincing things he's ever heard. He's going to make his way to Arthur and the sword now.

"It doesn't sound like it."

"I don't think it matters," He didn't say 'anymore', but it was the one word in his head that stuck. When Arthur pulled the blade from the stone in his memory, he became an inhuman monster--a dragon who would never be understood and would only be hated if he failed. The Arthur of that moment was already spurned by his family and left alone, already inhuman and already doomed. Taking the sword or not wouldn't make a difference towards his fate, but he realized--

Not taking the sword would drive him insane. It was his.

"It's just another weird circumstance."

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