Abd-Al Malik,
Summoning
One of the many eyes twitched at Gwyn's words. Saber crossed its arms and instead looking outside from the door Gwyn had opened. It was indeed eager to fight, but now it had some concerns - ones that would be addressed immediately. Saber took heavy steps towards the door, entering spirit form before it reached Gwyn.
Your bravery is admirable, Master, but you will not face a Servant so long as it is my foe. Do as you wish to their Master, but it is my duty to the Saber class to best other Servants in combat - alone. It is the greatest honour.
There is an exception. If a coward sends their servant to best you rather than I, then we shall defeat this servant to the point where they'll cry for their mother, and then humiliate their Master by making them lap around this place in nothing but their undergarments for all to see - and then we can make them clean our boots!
Saber sounded incredibly eager at that prospect - to a very weird degree. Seems the swordsman had a degree of sadomasochism running through it. It made a sound akin to clearing its throat through the link it shared with Gwyn, putting those rather uncouth thoughts aside.
Unless you have other things you wish to discuss, then lead the way Master.
Michiko,
Hotel Room
It was only through willing ignorance that Michiko had not noticed her Servants state of undress. Unfortunately, her Servant did not let it go unnoticed. The girls eyes widened, a surge of red spreading from her chin to her ears
"L-Lancer!"
With a squeal Michiko brought her hands up to cover her face, turning away from Lancer. Of course, even with an egregious would on her shoulder, Lancer was definately stunning - and that was part of the problem for Michiko. Inadequacy was its name, and tormenting Michiko was its game. When her embarrassment finally settled down she looked back to Lancer, specifically at her wound, and leaned over. She took a deep breath, trying to get herself back in the zone. Resolved, Michiko shut her eyes. The empowering and stressful sensation of her circuits kicking to life came from her eyes, readying herself for the spell she was about to cast.
"An artifact... we could always try to temporarily ally with another Master and Servant if he becomes a problem, I guess."
"If he's still alive...then I'll try my best to heal it now. I won't be feeling too well tomorrow. You'll need to be really quiet to get the most out of it, okay?"
Her eyes opened, the slight glow coming from the right iris being a clear indicator of magecraft at work. Her mouth began moving, the words coming from her mouth something other than English; Welsh, actually. An odd language for a young Japanese girl to be speaking. With each verse, the young magus' gaze seemed to become more and more distant, her expression falling flat by the time she finished on the eighth verse.
Her next movements were robotic, preprogrammed for a situation just like this. Hands lightly waved over the large wound, brushing the parted flesh without consideration for the Servants comfort. A moment passed, something processing within Michiko's head, and then she got to work. Thin blue threads formed at the ends of her fingers, prehensile and moving without any visible influence from Michiko. What came next was focused silence, the strings threading through the parted flesh and bringing it back together, tying it together. It was a painful method but it was a very accurate one.
By the time she'd finished, the wound was completely sealed by the ephemeral threads. The final stage of the healing was the payoff, her hands placed back on the now-closed wound and glowing the same blue as the threads. The pain would begin to fade after a few moments, the flesh, cartilage and blood vessels being repaired over the time she held her hands on Lancer.
Definitely not the cleanest healing job, but it wasn't a wound anymore. Lancer was back in a decent state, but Michiko looked worse for ware. Sweat rolled from her hairline, colour having progressively left her face through out the entire process. That magic was pushing the limit of what she was capable of in a short amount of time, and the effect was clear.
Whatever 'mode' she had put herself under dropped rather suddenly after her work was complete. She slumped onto Lancer, her breathes ragged and drifting into the realm of unconsciousness.
