Interacting with: Master of Red Rider @Grey and
Berserker @MeteorD __________________________________
Seems like Rider is popular today. For all the wrong reasons. How could she, a Mongol, possibly know of these strange laws in this God forsaken place? In her home, the kids drank airag from the moment they turned five, though truthfully children never were allowed to drink a lot. But they had to drink some, it was simply safer to the fermented, poor quality water of the steppes. So to her, a truehearted Mongol, the very mention of minor age and the like is as foreign a concept as eating food with utensils. And of course, she simply laughed at the very suggestion from Caster that alcohol was bad. A concept she was not familiar with, and if it existed then she be damned it's a creation of the artistocratic elite. Perhaps this Caster belongs to them? She wouldn't know, but Genghis found it very strange that he'd interrupt her good intentions. They were, after all, far and wide between.
"Wha' in th'Sky's name are you blabberin' 'bout? My goal ain' gettin' th'poor lassie 'ere ta' get wasted. Tha's fer me 'n me alone." Truthfully she already was, but her Mongol pride cut her from mentioning that part,
"Bu' when it comes t'events like t'deh, I know talkin's the cure, especialleey te' a friendly ear. An' nothin' gets ya' talkin' like a lil' extra." She shrugged, no one had more experience than her in mending a broken mind after seeing people slaughtered like cattle, usually due to her causing them. But then again, she slaughtered families and then recruited the survivors to her horde, so she had to be good with words. Really, really good. Like, she killed their loved ones and then brought them under her wing? She'd never heard of any person capable of doing so in all of history. So perhaps her name as 'The Scourge of God' held some truth after all.
But at the end of the day, the girl was not her master. Caster should truthfully be the one the girl opens her heart to, not the greatest murderer in history. Even though, and Genghis briefly examined the male, he didn't seem like the sort used to genocides or the aftermaths of it.
"Bu' fair, I'll concede. Th'lassie's yer' master. Lemme jus' say this one final thing, aye? Master o' Caster.. ey, that rhymes.. Ah sorry, yea. Don' let th'events get to ya', alright? Funnel 'em instea'. Use 'em as yer' weapon.
'Nd kick th'arse o' th'one tha' caused it. And remembah, Big Sis'll always keep an ear open fer' ya." She offered her a consoling smile, before preparing to raise up from her seat. But it would appear her own master had her own piece to say, in such a ruthless manner that even the person whose very name was and is used to inspire fear grimaced.
That was uncalled for, Master. Poor cutie'll either take it as a challenge to rise up, or crumble down like the walls of China. Genghis thought to herself while gently peering at the group. When she felt she'd heard enough, she rose up and walked off. In anger? Not really. In a drunken haze? Not that either. No, instead, she decided to meditate a bit. As she always did after battles, because she knew that many had to suffer for the greater good. And she caused suffering every so often, indeed so often that she by now had a ritual for the post-battles.
She seemed to be rather steady at feet when prowling off, out the door to a smll patch of grass. And there she sat down in lotus position, with her eyes closed while chanting softly, but loud enough for any close to hear, a couple lines in Mongolian. Even the appearance of a Saber-class servant in this very area didn't disturb her. It was not her business, after all. This whole grail war was but a war for the privileged, a war for those that already wield tremendous power, both socially and otherwise, and so they were all technically speaking her enemy. Every single person and heroic spirit here. Even her own Master was.
But she'd put that aside for now. No need to antagonize those that, presumably, are her allies in the moment. But one thing was clear, she needed to speak to her Master about all of this long before the action truly went off. Genghis smiled, no grinned, at the thought. She knew little about her master, all she knew was that the girl seemingly lacked a heart. Or spirit. As if guided by something completely ethereal and faceless. As if she was molded from youth to be a heartless person. To Rider, that is relatable. For she too, is heartless.
