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[ the tablet is sat in Elizabeth's lap, she hasn't worked out really how it works beyond hitting buttons until something seemed to happen. Which she's frowning so at it then far too pleased with herself when it seems to do what she wants it to. ]

How on earth do they make the little images move -- ? [ but it is no real, matter. She's learning to just accept the fact she doesn't understand how half this stuff works ] I've a few questions that I cannot ascertain simply from watching if I may be so bold... [ she licks her lips briefly before continuing. ] ... where does one find material to make clothes from? As I've yet to make sense of the items I find here made already, but the clothes I arrived in are... not fitting for most daily activities. [ It had only one layer of clothing and... no. No that seems wrong and strange and not at all decent. ]

As well as... [ she lent her head on her hand as she hummed. Making requests is strange, there ought to be people swarming about her, accompanying her wherever she went but now there isn't and its so odd to ask. ] Would I be able to request someone to take a walk about the city with me? Someone who is familiar with the times, so to speak, as I find myself unable to make sense of very much of it. England was a very different place to me, and I cannot make heads nor tails of her now. I do not ever recall her raining so much. [ and she smiles very briefly. ]

My thanks for your time.

[ ooc: my mistake, this should read as coming from Victoria Guildford. forgot to add it in, all my apologies for the confusion. ]

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[~~As soon as there's a beach, though...~~]

I have no inclination to put a lady in my debt. It's a word too ugly even for myself.

[ ~~SCREECH~~ ]

You are too kind as ever. [ something she is grateful for. ] Are you free this afternoon then?

Of course. I'm afraid I will be unreliable in terms of a tour however, Madame Guilford.

I will endeavor to improve.

Just accompaniment as I walk about would be enough. I would feel a great deal safer for your company too.

Understandable. I shall see you in the noon, then.

I need only know where you would like to be found.

Would the entrance of the Apartments suit you?

I have no preference. I will see you there when you desire.

[Suffice to say, Berserker sat himself down in a chair just outside the doors leading to the inside lobby of the apartment, hands on his knees waiting with the patience of a statue.]

[ Which eventually, Elizabeth waltz down. Still perfectly dressed in the same brightly coloured dress, not a hair out of place where it was twisted in a plait about her head, the umbrella he had given her when she arrived in one hand. Her skirts had been take up just a little so they would not trail in the mud. The dress looked a little more worn, but she had been taking particular care of it regardless. ]

Sir Lancelot. [ Which she curtsied to him on greeting. ]

[Standing, Berserker took a moment before greeting Elizabeth to bow lightly, smiling just a measure. He had no inclination to be anything other than courteous, but he had been in a considerably better mood that day, if only because he was breaking out of his monotony.

Though, he didn't even realize it.]

Madame Guildford. Has your day lead you to useful venues?

[ She beamed back at him with the smile. It had become a small personal mission to make him smile.

Which she felt she knew him at least a little better to lean in and kiss his cheek once he stood up. A customary greeting for her, even if it was more French than English. ]

It has, people here are very helpful to those such as myself who find themselves at a loss with this place.

[He hadn't received that sort of greeting in any court he'd stood in his entire life. It was something he knew was more common in other countries, but Albion had been to reserved in his time that the mere inclination of an affair threatened a noose. Lancelot could only remember when the Lady of the Lake would kiss his cheek upon his visits.

She must have been trying to be nice. He greeted her as 'Madame', so perhaps she had education on the French.]

I would not offer my support to anyone. Your manners and grace deserve a gentleman--or, at least someone who may imitate one.

[ Better then that she hadn't given the greeting as she was supposed to, far too common in England to kiss a friend or indeed stranger softly on the lips upon greeting them. ]

And you are such in the truest sense of the word, sir. For you have only been gentle with me. [ Even if she would have more than from him, than just his suffering in the end. ] Will you walk to with me, Sir Lancelot?

I will.

[However, he had to make adjustments. Berserker, who assigned his attention near constantly to guard himself and Flora from all 'magical' assaults, had to divert a little bit more power from himself and give it to her, instead. Sharing a borderline psychic bond with someone came with too many hangups, he thought.]

You may lead, my lady. I will ensure your absolute safety.

[ Elizabeth between him and the street of teeming with people about their business and thought about walking in front of him like he was her paid guard and she still Queen.

As if she owned the place and ought to have people following her about as they once did. (But it was still hers, wasn't it? It was still her England, and her blood was still that of Kings.) Either way, it looked more obvious if he just trailed behind her like that. ]

No, not like that Sir Lancelot, I asked for you accompaniment, not your servitude. [ And there was a difference, a very clear one to her mind. She stopped and didn't give him too much of a choice in the end, sliding her arm around his. Elizabeth didn't doubt he was strong enough to pull away if he wanted, but if he allowed it, she would stay just like that. ] We shall walk, together.

My l--

[There had been plenty of times in Berserker's life in which he had the opportunity to witness how regular men would walk with women. He had gotten used to tailing Guinevere, being made to watch her from the shadows rather than stand by her side. She had been the Queen, after all. If he walked by her side, then he would have been viewed as an equal. A human being.

For the moment, he suddenly realized he was in a completely new situation. Him. Of all people, totally at a loss.]

If you you.... insist.

I do insist. [ and then she began to walk. It wasn't very fast, even though she was tall -- taller than most women -- and tended to walk quite quickly. Mercifully the weather had turned to a drizzle instead of a torrent of water.

It was comfortable to her, it was how she walked with Dudley so often about the garden. His arm tucked against her body, smiling at him. Like this, she could pretend, that they were not in the ruined city that had once been her home. Like this she could pretend she was back in Hatfield, or Hampton of even Greenwich, and the foulness and heartbreak of this place faded from her mind. ]

Tell me of your day, Sir? How have you been keeping yourself since the beach?

[It was a rare moment in which Berserker was not at all certain of himself. Being held with such a feeling of trust made him feel well, but not comfortable. Happiness in that discomfort had been an acceptable means of feeling total guilt.

In lieu of taking solace in the fact that someone trusted him, Berserker chose to assume the worst of it. He was a degenerate, he thought. This woman, Victoria--she was a lady of a court and deserved a gentleman with natural charm and a true sense of decency. He was simply a fraud in those regards. All he could do was pretend--become a hollow horse interested only in making himself feel better.]

I have done little. I'm merely a guard in the day.

[It was impossible to hide his melancholy, though. Despite how pleasant it could be to be relied upon.]

[ Unknowing of his thoughts, she kept walking with him, drumming her fingers against his forearm, finding the warmth of him a little bit comforting. This place made her feel lonely, for a woman used to being surrounded, this sudden emptiness was... strange, and left her oddly hollow without someone to do these things with. ]

A fitting task for a Knight. But better that it is dull, if what they say is true and this is war. I'd rather it be quiet then it not.

[ She at least was growing used to the sadness that seemed to tinge all his words. ]

[At that, Berserker's guilt became compounded. It was true that he viewed his punishment of fighting for Exsilium as something worthy of eternity, but at the same time, he was born and bred specifically for the battlefield. The social court, the romances of his life and all things he was said to have felt joy in partaking in had only been ways of busying himself between battlefields.

As the Perfect Knight, he was only really needed with a sword in his hand.]

Unfortunately, the quiet is the most dangerous, madame. It would be best to end this war as soon as possible.

[ Elizabeth continued to walk with him, half listening and half watching the world going by them, her eye catching on something or another every so often, but nothing truly could take her fancy.

Nothing was like home, in the end. ]

I suppose you are right, and our lack of fortifications is troublesome, should we ever come against a true siege, I hardly know how this war is fought at all. [ A little more knowledgeable than a mere lady in waiting ought to know, but playing too stupid would be of no use to anyone. ] How are the battles fought here, if I may be so bold?

Your boldness is understandable and hardly surprising. If you were not concerned for the circumstances of this place, it would be unusual.

[If anything, Berserker was simply mulling over how he could really explain those things to Victoria. He had indulged in modern combat with ease since he was built to utilize the tools around him to perfection, but he was still not fully familiar with modern day strategy. Simply giving someone a weapon didn't make them a general, nor was he fully capable even in his own age.]

Though, I cannot describe it much. War is still wrought with steel and fire, as with any age. Any further complications may be attributed to cowardice.

[Poison, for example.]

I have been brought here to fight this war the same as you, though I will never be comfortable wielding a weapon, even though they gave me one.

[ She plucked at his jacket idly. Her hands were soft, woman's hands. They knew no hard work of that kind, but her heart did. Could hearts even have callouses? They said Catherine of Aragon's heart was black, that Henry had poisoned and she'd died of heart break. ]

Do many die in the battles here? [ a dark question, but she needed to hear from some one who could say it softly, and kindly. Words of death should never be harshly spoken. ]

[It had been no surprise. Victoria hadn't let on for a moment that she was happily acclimated by her situation, but she came from a time of conflict, herself. For only a moment, Berserker dwelt on history. Perhaps, then, she had been lucky. The Great War, so he heard, had a mass of casualties that inspired patriotism of a massive level. She didn't know it, yet. She didn't need to.]

War comes with many casualties. There has only been one battle I've participated in so far, madame.

[With that--]

I will endeavor to see that you never witness such a battle.

[If only because of those fingers on his arm, tightening with strength better used for gesture of rational conversation than gripping a sword soaked in blood. Victoria had been an example of the maiden 'Lancelot' had been trained to save from battle.]

[ She doesn't want the polite answer, even if she wants it quietly said. They're my people. But the words never make it, and she curls her fingers in tightly against his arm.

Because he sounds so sincere, and she can't keep her own sadness from her words. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. ]

I am sorry to tell you, you've failed in that already. I've already seen battles enough... [ or felt the effects of them, and that was almost bad enough as seeing them die herself. ]

[There had been an incredible breadth of regret in his heart at that time. Perhaps he was adding ire to memories of hers. This woman's desire to see an end to conflict, her knowledge of those terrible occurrences and her surprising inclination to treat the famous betrayer with admiration and respect made him feel the pain of his position even more.]

At the very least, my lady, I may properly remain the machine called 'soldier'. If you are to witness battle, let it end by my monstrous arm.

[He looked up, casting his eyes on the street. A shop couldn't have come soon enough.]

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