Paladins! To me!
-twelve ethereal knights rush for Saber - one bearing a banner of England, one bearing a crucifix, one clutching a bloody dagger-
-the one leading the charge wields the blade Durandal-
-they rush at him, slashing as they go-
...Jeez. Do you really think I'd lie about that?
I... I don't think you are either.
{What's your Noble Phantasm? Use that.}
UN JOUR JE SERAI DE RETOUR PRÈS DE TOI{D-on't worry, I can handle myself.}
-he says that just as he gets a glancing blow from the Javelin-
-or rather, one that makes his left arm useless-
-the blade turns into a one-handed sword again as he throws the excess at Paris in a condensed shard-
-nods- Ya.
I can teach you ze recipe right now.
-Lautrec is still in the basement, quiet-
-cleaning his armor-
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this post

...?
What's on your mind?