-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
Fate / Stained Inheritance
- Thread starter Sightedjt
- Start date
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] You see your past. You remember the last time you died, burning yourself away as the last of the seven.
Namer
ᵘʷᵘ
- Location
- Maryland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I wonder if Scathach's runes will be enough, or will some more... comprehensive spiritual healing be necessary.
[X] You see your past. You remember the last time you died, burning yourself away as the last of the seven
We could catch up with the present by talking to others later.
[X] You see your past. You remember the last time you died, burning yourself away as the last of the seven
We could catch up with the present by talking to others later.
049.5- Sheet of Assassin
Sightedjt
Everlasting Flames
Also, since Assassin is dead, here's his info sheet.
Moriarty from his youth, from before he had carved out his vast criminal empire. While he is significantly more in favour of getting out and getting the work done in person than he is in his later age, his refined tastes and his flair for alibis, misdirection and schemes remains.
STR- C
END-D
AGI-B
MANA-C
LUCK-A
NP-C
Lawful Evil
Skills
Presence concealment B
Until attacking, Assassin is capable of obscuring his presence as a servant.
Murder on a misty night D
Assassin is capable of launching surprise attacks at night.
Master of the spiderweb A+
Assassin is a genius at avoiding consequences for his actions; While effects can detect his Evil nature, anything that would have an additional effect due to assassin being Evil has the bonus negated.
Sabotage C
Even after a surprise attack fails, Assassin is capable of using a number of traps and strategies to harm his enemies indirectly.
Perfect alibi. Rank B-
Due to layered disguises, attempts to divine Assassins presence or identity fail until his true identity is exposed.
Noble phantasm
Rank C
Schemers end: Anti person, single target.
Assassin will always have one last means of attack concealed upon his person, even if he should or could not have. The first attack made with this is guaranteed to hit it's target. The power of this attack increases the worse of a situation Assassin is in.
STR- C
END-D
AGI-B
MANA-C
LUCK-A
NP-C
Lawful Evil
Skills
Presence concealment B
Until attacking, Assassin is capable of obscuring his presence as a servant.
Murder on a misty night D
Assassin is capable of launching surprise attacks at night.
Master of the spiderweb A+
Assassin is a genius at avoiding consequences for his actions; While effects can detect his Evil nature, anything that would have an additional effect due to assassin being Evil has the bonus negated.
Sabotage C
Even after a surprise attack fails, Assassin is capable of using a number of traps and strategies to harm his enemies indirectly.
Perfect alibi. Rank B-
Due to layered disguises, attempts to divine Assassins presence or identity fail until his true identity is exposed.
Noble phantasm
Rank C
Schemers end: Anti person, single target.
Assassin will always have one last means of attack concealed upon his person, even if he should or could not have. The first attack made with this is guaranteed to hit it's target. The power of this attack increases the worse of a situation Assassin is in.
thelordofmango
may be stupid
- Location
- under a rock
Rip Mimi Yagami
050- Remembrance
Sightedjt
Everlasting Flames
-You see your past, the first time you died.
Unconsciousness takes you, a blessed relief from the pain surging through your body. It only lasts for a moment though, an eye-blink of blackness and numbness, before light blinds you, shining out though a spreading web of cracks in the dark as a wall within you crumbles and you remember.
Pain.
Nothing but pain.
Every nerve in your body burns, a web of white-hot gold threaded through your body as you become your own pyre, the agony blotting out all conscious thought to leave you with nothing but instinct.
You kneel at the centre of a vast dais, a trail of blood behind you to one of the seven empty harnesses, spilling from the cuts in your legs as you crawled your way here to the centre, heedless of the broken glass and jagged metal that slashed at your legs, the broken chains hanging from where you were held.
Your hands are forced together by wire and chains, the metal digging into your skin as you raise them towards the sky, palms outstretched in offering to the gaping void that hangs in the sky above you: A sphere of pure nothing, a hole in the world only visible by the glowing corona that surrounds it. Shifting violets and blues shine in stark contrast to the night sky as the void howls a low, continuous moan that drowns out the flames that flicker around the edge of the workshop you're in, that covers the dying gasps and moans of the mages who ran it, who tormented you cut you open broke and remade and broke you again until you were the tool they wanted you to be, the vessel to hold the dreams they stole.
Thick, sticky ooze spills forth from the edges of the void, heavy with malice and spite as fire catches where it lands. As you look up towards that void through the broken hole that was where the upper floors of this laboratory used to be, you see the flickering orange glow of the blaze surrounding the building. Stray droplets of the slime drop down inside the hall, burning away on the concrete floor as they crawl towards the twitching and broken forms of the few still-living mages where they lie among the shrapnel and wreckage.
You kneel below the void, forced into a mockery of worship as you scream an endless scream, the smoky air scorching your lungs as you gasp for air, those desperate, choking breaths the only respite from the hellish prayer of your wail as you offer yourself and all that you contain to the void.
Power flows through you, a surging waterfall of shining gold, more than you can contain, more than anyone could contain. It burns you as you hold it, it consumes you as you offer it unto the void, pouring a waterfall of light through your body. But you must offer it. You can't allow yourself to hold it. You were the lucky one. Your sisters-by-torture were the ones who had to hold this power, who had their minds and bodies burnt away by its light leaving them nothing but charred corpses hanging limply in their chains. You can't have that happen to you. That's the only thing driving your actions, a need to live to avoid that horrific fate that you had to watch and hear and smell.
So you offer the light you hold to the void, you become the pillar upon which it rests, a molten fuse connecting a bottomless well of power to a burning flame that drinks it up as fast as you can offer only to demand more and more and more. And you gratefully offer it to the void, uncaring of what or why or how; if you hold this power, you will die. It's as simple as that. So you cling to that connection, that link between you and the void, grasping it tight out of blind instinct, because no matter how painful it is to be the vessel here, to let go to falter to slip for even an instant would mean death.
But even so, there is nobody who could bear this torrent without losing something. Even a master of the arts would lose something, to channel this much power through their own body. While you are the furthest thing from a master you could be. No matter how much the void pulls from you, there is always more power to pour into it, to draw from the shattered vessels of your compatriots, a flow so forceful that you cannot help but have your very self stripped away by the burning abrasion of its passage through you. It's only that raw, primal instinct to live that keeps you going, instinctively managing to somehow shove the least vital parts of your self against that flow.
You don't need to remember your life.
You don't need to remember anything of what happened to you before they put you under the knife
You don't need to remember who your fellow vessels were.
You don't even need to remember your own name.
You don't need that, just so long as you can prevent this power from burning away your soul, from burning away that small scrap of need that drives you to cling to life like this, to keep you conscious; if you pass out, you will die within a heartbeat.
So you bear a weight nobody could bear, screaming in unending pain as you burn your self to save yourself. You hold, even as glowing cracks spread across your body, your circuits straining as you begin to fall apart, shattering like glass on an anvil. You don't know how long this lasts before it ends, the pain and pressure and power scraping each second into an age, punctuated only by a thundering heartbeat that echoes in your ears. But eventually it ends.
If only the aftermath wasn't just as bad; a blinding flash of light carves the sky apart, near-blinding you as you stare upwards into the howling void above you, given a front row seat to its collapse; the corona surrounding it is but a candle in the face of the golden ray that pierces through the void. A thunderclap of a shockwave pulses out as the void begins to collapse in on itself, the delicate weaves of magic that held it in place ripping themself apart as one last deluge of the sludge pours out, falling down onto the ground beneath.
Far below the collapsing void, you try to cling to the flow of power, desperately holding it in place as the pull ends, stopping it from tearing you apart in a fatal unravelling as the flow begins to falter, coming and going in ragged arterial spurts. You hold. You hold. Until at last, it stops.
Which is exactly when that last gush of sludge lands directly upon you, forcing you flat onto your face from its weight and driving the air from your lungs as your skin sears and blisters from the heat. You gasp for breath on instinct, only for that burning mud to force its way down your throat, drowning you in its malice as the gleaming gold within you is stained black by hate. Your vision fades as you desperately try to move through it, to force your way to the surface, to get to any air, uncaring of how weak your wounded legs are as you push upwards with one last effort.
The very last thing you feel as you pass out is the air on your chained hands for but a handful of seconds, blissfully cool compared to the burning mud surrounding you. That feeling lasts for but a second before they start to slip below the surface again. But at the last possible moment, you feel yourself get jerked upwards, the cold hardness of a metal-clad hand gripping yours tight as its owner pulls.
The memory ends there, leaving you floating within yourself, in a strange half dream. You're floating in a black void, where the only feature around you is a web of cracked, branching fibers made of gleaming gold, shining brightly even under the twisting streams of tarnish that wrap around them. A deep coolness suffuses your body as you float there for a moment, peaceful and relaxing. Your gaze traces along the path of the fibres around you, the slender curves and jagged, cracking lines. As your gaze reaches the top of the pattern they form, you see a faint blue light shine down into this place, like the dawn sky. In a heartbeat, it spreads like ink in water, pulling you into wakefulness once more.
Despite everything, you're still alive.
Day 3 has ended.
Unconsciousness takes you, a blessed relief from the pain surging through your body. It only lasts for a moment though, an eye-blink of blackness and numbness, before light blinds you, shining out though a spreading web of cracks in the dark as a wall within you crumbles and you remember.
Pain.
Nothing but pain.
Every nerve in your body burns, a web of white-hot gold threaded through your body as you become your own pyre, the agony blotting out all conscious thought to leave you with nothing but instinct.
You kneel at the centre of a vast dais, a trail of blood behind you to one of the seven empty harnesses, spilling from the cuts in your legs as you crawled your way here to the centre, heedless of the broken glass and jagged metal that slashed at your legs, the broken chains hanging from where you were held.
Your hands are forced together by wire and chains, the metal digging into your skin as you raise them towards the sky, palms outstretched in offering to the gaping void that hangs in the sky above you: A sphere of pure nothing, a hole in the world only visible by the glowing corona that surrounds it. Shifting violets and blues shine in stark contrast to the night sky as the void howls a low, continuous moan that drowns out the flames that flicker around the edge of the workshop you're in, that covers the dying gasps and moans of the mages who ran it, who tormented you cut you open broke and remade and broke you again until you were the tool they wanted you to be, the vessel to hold the dreams they stole.
Thick, sticky ooze spills forth from the edges of the void, heavy with malice and spite as fire catches where it lands. As you look up towards that void through the broken hole that was where the upper floors of this laboratory used to be, you see the flickering orange glow of the blaze surrounding the building. Stray droplets of the slime drop down inside the hall, burning away on the concrete floor as they crawl towards the twitching and broken forms of the few still-living mages where they lie among the shrapnel and wreckage.
You kneel below the void, forced into a mockery of worship as you scream an endless scream, the smoky air scorching your lungs as you gasp for air, those desperate, choking breaths the only respite from the hellish prayer of your wail as you offer yourself and all that you contain to the void.
Power flows through you, a surging waterfall of shining gold, more than you can contain, more than anyone could contain. It burns you as you hold it, it consumes you as you offer it unto the void, pouring a waterfall of light through your body. But you must offer it. You can't allow yourself to hold it. You were the lucky one. Your sisters-by-torture were the ones who had to hold this power, who had their minds and bodies burnt away by its light leaving them nothing but charred corpses hanging limply in their chains. You can't have that happen to you. That's the only thing driving your actions, a need to live to avoid that horrific fate that you had to watch and hear and smell.
So you offer the light you hold to the void, you become the pillar upon which it rests, a molten fuse connecting a bottomless well of power to a burning flame that drinks it up as fast as you can offer only to demand more and more and more. And you gratefully offer it to the void, uncaring of what or why or how; if you hold this power, you will die. It's as simple as that. So you cling to that connection, that link between you and the void, grasping it tight out of blind instinct, because no matter how painful it is to be the vessel here, to let go to falter to slip for even an instant would mean death.
But even so, there is nobody who could bear this torrent without losing something. Even a master of the arts would lose something, to channel this much power through their own body. While you are the furthest thing from a master you could be. No matter how much the void pulls from you, there is always more power to pour into it, to draw from the shattered vessels of your compatriots, a flow so forceful that you cannot help but have your very self stripped away by the burning abrasion of its passage through you. It's only that raw, primal instinct to live that keeps you going, instinctively managing to somehow shove the least vital parts of your self against that flow.
You don't need to remember your life.
You don't need to remember anything of what happened to you before they put you under the knife
You don't need to remember who your fellow vessels were.
You don't even need to remember your own name.
You don't need that, just so long as you can prevent this power from burning away your soul, from burning away that small scrap of need that drives you to cling to life like this, to keep you conscious; if you pass out, you will die within a heartbeat.
So you bear a weight nobody could bear, screaming in unending pain as you burn your self to save yourself. You hold, even as glowing cracks spread across your body, your circuits straining as you begin to fall apart, shattering like glass on an anvil. You don't know how long this lasts before it ends, the pain and pressure and power scraping each second into an age, punctuated only by a thundering heartbeat that echoes in your ears. But eventually it ends.
If only the aftermath wasn't just as bad; a blinding flash of light carves the sky apart, near-blinding you as you stare upwards into the howling void above you, given a front row seat to its collapse; the corona surrounding it is but a candle in the face of the golden ray that pierces through the void. A thunderclap of a shockwave pulses out as the void begins to collapse in on itself, the delicate weaves of magic that held it in place ripping themself apart as one last deluge of the sludge pours out, falling down onto the ground beneath.
Far below the collapsing void, you try to cling to the flow of power, desperately holding it in place as the pull ends, stopping it from tearing you apart in a fatal unravelling as the flow begins to falter, coming and going in ragged arterial spurts. You hold. You hold. Until at last, it stops.
Which is exactly when that last gush of sludge lands directly upon you, forcing you flat onto your face from its weight and driving the air from your lungs as your skin sears and blisters from the heat. You gasp for breath on instinct, only for that burning mud to force its way down your throat, drowning you in its malice as the gleaming gold within you is stained black by hate. Your vision fades as you desperately try to move through it, to force your way to the surface, to get to any air, uncaring of how weak your wounded legs are as you push upwards with one last effort.
The very last thing you feel as you pass out is the air on your chained hands for but a handful of seconds, blissfully cool compared to the burning mud surrounding you. That feeling lasts for but a second before they start to slip below the surface again. But at the last possible moment, you feel yourself get jerked upwards, the cold hardness of a metal-clad hand gripping yours tight as its owner pulls.
The memory ends there, leaving you floating within yourself, in a strange half dream. You're floating in a black void, where the only feature around you is a web of cracked, branching fibers made of gleaming gold, shining brightly even under the twisting streams of tarnish that wrap around them. A deep coolness suffuses your body as you float there for a moment, peaceful and relaxing. Your gaze traces along the path of the fibres around you, the slender curves and jagged, cracking lines. As your gaze reaches the top of the pattern they form, you see a faint blue light shine down into this place, like the dawn sky. In a heartbeat, it spreads like ink in water, pulling you into wakefulness once more.
Despite everything, you're still alive.
Day 3 has ended.
Cheerful!
So, it seems like Mimi was some kind of grail vessel (ersatz?) in the 4th War, created by some big brain magi who wanted to horn in on that sweet, sweet magical energy from Servant death. Though considerably less efficient - see using seven total grail vessels for it.
(Maybe this is why Izabetha is who she is, assuming Irisviel lost some Servants to the fake grail systems, as well as why everything ended up being so weird?)
It also explains Mimi's curse affinity and the damage to her circuits, as well as her having basically no memories.
050.5- Foreshadowing of Mimi's nature
Sightedjt
Everlasting Flames
That's all fairly accurate yup.
As update might be a tad slower as away from my main PC for a bit, here's some of the other tie ins to it I'd done in ways of setup.
Everything Mimi had found out about her past did point in the direction of the 4th war, and Waver did note that the grail appeared outside town, where in canon it had shown up in a more central spot.
It ties into how her circuitry looked artificial in Waver's assessment, as well as how she never really had mana problems even when Ruler was going fairly heavy on her flame bursts. Also part of why a Ruler was summonable by her.
It also ties into how she's got a natural knack for connecting up to mystic codes and such.
It links to why the mages who set this whole thing up actually knew about her and why Lainur figured grabbing her might give him an edge
It's why she can only do curses.
And oh yes.
Seen from the side, her command seals are partly done as a stylized grail shape.
Possibly one or two more bits that are slipping my mind given it's late in the day, but that's a few more pieces of setup that I'd put out to lead up to this reveal.
As update might be a tad slower as away from my main PC for a bit, here's some of the other tie ins to it I'd done in ways of setup.
Everything Mimi had found out about her past did point in the direction of the 4th war, and Waver did note that the grail appeared outside town, where in canon it had shown up in a more central spot.
It ties into how her circuitry looked artificial in Waver's assessment, as well as how she never really had mana problems even when Ruler was going fairly heavy on her flame bursts. Also part of why a Ruler was summonable by her.
It also ties into how she's got a natural knack for connecting up to mystic codes and such.
It links to why the mages who set this whole thing up actually knew about her and why Lainur figured grabbing her might give him an edge
It's why she can only do curses.
And oh yes.
Seen from the side, her command seals are partly done as a stylized grail shape.
Possibly one or two more bits that are slipping my mind given it's late in the day, but that's a few more pieces of setup that I'd put out to lead up to this reveal.
Last edited:
051- Day 4: Pained awakening
Sightedjt
Everlasting Flames
Day 4
Your eyes blink open slowly, bringing you back to the waking world as a low groan escapes you, a dozen aches all trying to force their way to your attention as you get your bearings. Lit by the late morning sun streaking through the windows, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom lying under light covers in a luxuriously soft bed. There's a moment of panic, alarm at the unknown place you find yourself in, before it dissipates, smothered by the softness of the bed you're in. You were with friends- or allies- when you got shot.
It's hard to believe that had happened, as you quickly look down at yourself, gently pushing aside the silken dressing gown you find that you're wearing to get a better look at yourself; still the corpse-pale, unhealthily skinny mess you're used to seeing- even if your ribs seem a little less pronounced than you remember. What is new however, is the patch of pale-white scarring on your chest, a fingerlength below your collarbone that makes you wince as you recall the impact, a brief surge of fight-or-flight coursing through your thoughts.
But that aside, with the quality of the room, the fact that you've been treated, the fact that your possessions are left there on a bedside table- if something had happened while you were out, and you weren't in a safe place, none of this would be this way. So for the moment, you just let yourself relax, breathe a sigh of relief as you enjoy the comfort of this bed. There's more you'll need to deal with soon enough; new, or old, memories pressing at the back of your head. But not now. For now, you can just let yourself enjoy the moment. While it lasts. You still can't let yourself get used to this. Even if you have to remind yourself of that.
Movement- at the corner of your vision. You dive for the bedside table, heart pounding as you grab one of your Keys, grimacing as the lingering aches make their objections heard as you shunt mana into the Key, its tarnished blade forming in an instant as you point it at the source of the movement.
An unfamiliar woman stands from the chair she'd been sitting in, giving you a warm glance and not at all concerned by the sword you're pointing at her. Asian features, not too dissimilar from your own. Brown eyes, short, straight hair- well kept, the same as her robes, which are definitely more elaborate than what you'd expect from an average person, with the only defining feature being a small mark below her collarbones. Three leaves that overlap a curving wreath, all set in a circle. A set of prayer beads hang from her neck, which her hands move with practiced ease. For all the refinement in her tone of voice, there's a certain degree of eagerness? That you wouldn't have expected to be present going off her looks. "Oh good. You are awake, Master."
Wait, Master? Your blade wavers at that, your voice obviously rattled. "Who are you then- you aren't-"
"I am- also- Ruler." The woman says calmly, the clack of prayer beads punctuating her words. "Though I had hoped I would not have been needed to take action in this role."
"I- how do I know you're telling the truth?" You snap back at this so called Ruler. Yes given the situation if she meant harm to you she was here while you were asleep she had the chance but still you don't really know her and she got to see you all vulnerable.
"The same way you can resolve this matter. Though your reflex had all but cut us off, we remain linked to you." The prayer beads clack some more as 'Ruler' speaks.
You focus, eyes narrowing slightly as you peer within yourself, feeling out that bonding flow of mana that linked you to Ruler. The woman's right- it is flowing to her. It's so thin though- there's barely any passing along, as you greedily hold the power within you. Actually, now you look, the flow of mana feels much clearer to you. Like it's got a smell, a taste and the faintest whisper of sight to it. You glance at the scar on your chest again- there's the faintest remnants of power there… Three types; the sticky sensation of an inescapable spiderweb, the methodical precision of a silver clock, and the dusty taste of old stone.
You hear a faint noise of contentment from the woman as the look of surprise on your face betrays your reaction, snapping your attention back to your more mundane senses. "Restore that link, and you will restore us."
You're still not quite sure about this woman, though how much of this is rational and how much is a knee-jerk response to her surprising you when you were so vulnerable. But it is a fact that there's next to no mana flowing along that link you have. So you reach into that link, carefully teasing it back to its former unconstricted state. As the power flows, you hear one last whisper from the woman, snapping your attention to her. "For there is nothing I can do that she cannot."
Then her brown eyes blink closed, opening as the familiar slit-pupiled amber of Ruler's.
Flame licks over her, concealing her from view for just a moment. When the fire has cleared, Ruler stands in the woman's place, her blazing hair gleaming in the sunlight as she beams at you. She's back in her usual clothes as well, the leather of her armour and the torn simplicity of her underclothes completely replacing the formal robes of the other woman.
"Mas-teeeer!" With a joyous cry, Ruler springs onto the bed, sending you bouncing with her impact before you get pulled into a deep, tight and above all warm embrace. She holds it there for a moment as her body shakes, a couple of muffled sobs by your ear driving you to return the hug. "Really, I thought I'd lost you…"
After a few moments like this, the pair of you disentangle, Ruler briefly wiping her eyes. "It really is good to see you again. How do you feel?"
That's her. That's the Ruler you know, the Ruler you can let see you. "I'm- alive. Alive and… better." Anything beyond that can wait. At least for now.
"That's good to hear." Ruler nods as you force yourself upright, sitting on the edge of the bed. "A few things happened while you were out, but there's time enough that you can rest a bit yet. There's a bathroom through that door there."
You nod. You could do with a freshen up, what with the sweat of nightmares still clinging to your back. You're still feeling a bit weak, and it aches a bit, but you can stand and walk without needing any help. Following Ruler's pointing, you make your way to the en-suite door, opening it to reveal a gleaming expanse of shining white surfaces and underfloor heating and a bathtub fit for two people, your habit folded up on one of the clothes rails, looking freshly cleaned, if also a bit worn now.
You shed the dressing gown, almost tossing it on the floor before casually hanging it over the back of the chair by the mirror. Then, slowly, gingerly, you step into the shower, your feet reluctant to leave the comfort of the heated tiling. But when the hot water hits you, all that just fades away into a lovely warm comfort that draws a slight moan from you as it massages away all the aches and pains of the night, the pressure of the water on your skin oh-so-good.
With a shake of your head, you snap yourself out of it, and begin to quickly and thoroughly clean yourself off. You can't let yourself get distracted here. There's too much to do still. Don't get used to the luxury. Slipping out of the shower, you hastily dry yourself off with a very fluffy soft warm towel, before slipping into your habit, making your way back into the bedroom you woke up in to retrieve your belongings.
"Oh, that's much better, my Mast-" Ruler speaks up, before being cut off by a noise from the door at approximately the height Flat's head reaches, sounding suspiciously like the aforementioned Flat slamming face first into the door.
There's a fumbling noise from the handle, before the door opens outwards to reveal Flat, the beginnings of a bruise forming on his forehead. "Hey Mimi- it's really good to see you're upright really it was really scary when I saw you there cause you really were bleeding quite badly so I'm really glad Scathath was able to help you there-"
Flat's tirade is cut off by him dragging you into the second hug you've been dragged into within an hour of waking. It's a tad more awkward than the last one, with him half pinning your arms to your sides and his face somewhere by your shoulders… but it's not something you hate. He's got to have been worried about you to react like this. And… for someone to care about you like that- to maybe miss you if you weren't there… There are worse things to realise.
"Right- so the others-everyone- they're all in one of the living rooms here- it's a bit away which is why I came here to get you so are you ready?" Flat asks, having disentwined himself from you.
With Ruler taking up her usual place at her back, you nod. There's a lot you need to do- for the war- to give yourself a future. To live. And lying in bed after getting shot isn't going to get any of that done.
When you make it to the others, you focus on...
Pick two things to focus your recap on, the highest 2 totals win.
[] Focus on the battles from last night, get up to speed on the physical side of the war. Who's winning or losing?
[] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[] Focus on the enemy servants. What do you know about them?
[] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
Your eyes blink open slowly, bringing you back to the waking world as a low groan escapes you, a dozen aches all trying to force their way to your attention as you get your bearings. Lit by the late morning sun streaking through the windows, you find yourself in an unfamiliar bedroom lying under light covers in a luxuriously soft bed. There's a moment of panic, alarm at the unknown place you find yourself in, before it dissipates, smothered by the softness of the bed you're in. You were with friends- or allies- when you got shot.
It's hard to believe that had happened, as you quickly look down at yourself, gently pushing aside the silken dressing gown you find that you're wearing to get a better look at yourself; still the corpse-pale, unhealthily skinny mess you're used to seeing- even if your ribs seem a little less pronounced than you remember. What is new however, is the patch of pale-white scarring on your chest, a fingerlength below your collarbone that makes you wince as you recall the impact, a brief surge of fight-or-flight coursing through your thoughts.
But that aside, with the quality of the room, the fact that you've been treated, the fact that your possessions are left there on a bedside table- if something had happened while you were out, and you weren't in a safe place, none of this would be this way. So for the moment, you just let yourself relax, breathe a sigh of relief as you enjoy the comfort of this bed. There's more you'll need to deal with soon enough; new, or old, memories pressing at the back of your head. But not now. For now, you can just let yourself enjoy the moment. While it lasts. You still can't let yourself get used to this. Even if you have to remind yourself of that.
Movement- at the corner of your vision. You dive for the bedside table, heart pounding as you grab one of your Keys, grimacing as the lingering aches make their objections heard as you shunt mana into the Key, its tarnished blade forming in an instant as you point it at the source of the movement.
An unfamiliar woman stands from the chair she'd been sitting in, giving you a warm glance and not at all concerned by the sword you're pointing at her. Asian features, not too dissimilar from your own. Brown eyes, short, straight hair- well kept, the same as her robes, which are definitely more elaborate than what you'd expect from an average person, with the only defining feature being a small mark below her collarbones. Three leaves that overlap a curving wreath, all set in a circle. A set of prayer beads hang from her neck, which her hands move with practiced ease. For all the refinement in her tone of voice, there's a certain degree of eagerness? That you wouldn't have expected to be present going off her looks. "Oh good. You are awake, Master."
Wait, Master? Your blade wavers at that, your voice obviously rattled. "Who are you then- you aren't-"
"I am- also- Ruler." The woman says calmly, the clack of prayer beads punctuating her words. "Though I had hoped I would not have been needed to take action in this role."
"I- how do I know you're telling the truth?" You snap back at this so called Ruler. Yes given the situation if she meant harm to you she was here while you were asleep she had the chance but still you don't really know her and she got to see you all vulnerable.
"The same way you can resolve this matter. Though your reflex had all but cut us off, we remain linked to you." The prayer beads clack some more as 'Ruler' speaks.
You focus, eyes narrowing slightly as you peer within yourself, feeling out that bonding flow of mana that linked you to Ruler. The woman's right- it is flowing to her. It's so thin though- there's barely any passing along, as you greedily hold the power within you. Actually, now you look, the flow of mana feels much clearer to you. Like it's got a smell, a taste and the faintest whisper of sight to it. You glance at the scar on your chest again- there's the faintest remnants of power there… Three types; the sticky sensation of an inescapable spiderweb, the methodical precision of a silver clock, and the dusty taste of old stone.
You hear a faint noise of contentment from the woman as the look of surprise on your face betrays your reaction, snapping your attention back to your more mundane senses. "Restore that link, and you will restore us."
You're still not quite sure about this woman, though how much of this is rational and how much is a knee-jerk response to her surprising you when you were so vulnerable. But it is a fact that there's next to no mana flowing along that link you have. So you reach into that link, carefully teasing it back to its former unconstricted state. As the power flows, you hear one last whisper from the woman, snapping your attention to her. "For there is nothing I can do that she cannot."
Then her brown eyes blink closed, opening as the familiar slit-pupiled amber of Ruler's.
Flame licks over her, concealing her from view for just a moment. When the fire has cleared, Ruler stands in the woman's place, her blazing hair gleaming in the sunlight as she beams at you. She's back in her usual clothes as well, the leather of her armour and the torn simplicity of her underclothes completely replacing the formal robes of the other woman.
"Mas-teeeer!" With a joyous cry, Ruler springs onto the bed, sending you bouncing with her impact before you get pulled into a deep, tight and above all warm embrace. She holds it there for a moment as her body shakes, a couple of muffled sobs by your ear driving you to return the hug. "Really, I thought I'd lost you…"
After a few moments like this, the pair of you disentangle, Ruler briefly wiping her eyes. "It really is good to see you again. How do you feel?"
That's her. That's the Ruler you know, the Ruler you can let see you. "I'm- alive. Alive and… better." Anything beyond that can wait. At least for now.
"That's good to hear." Ruler nods as you force yourself upright, sitting on the edge of the bed. "A few things happened while you were out, but there's time enough that you can rest a bit yet. There's a bathroom through that door there."
You nod. You could do with a freshen up, what with the sweat of nightmares still clinging to your back. You're still feeling a bit weak, and it aches a bit, but you can stand and walk without needing any help. Following Ruler's pointing, you make your way to the en-suite door, opening it to reveal a gleaming expanse of shining white surfaces and underfloor heating and a bathtub fit for two people, your habit folded up on one of the clothes rails, looking freshly cleaned, if also a bit worn now.
You shed the dressing gown, almost tossing it on the floor before casually hanging it over the back of the chair by the mirror. Then, slowly, gingerly, you step into the shower, your feet reluctant to leave the comfort of the heated tiling. But when the hot water hits you, all that just fades away into a lovely warm comfort that draws a slight moan from you as it massages away all the aches and pains of the night, the pressure of the water on your skin oh-so-good.
With a shake of your head, you snap yourself out of it, and begin to quickly and thoroughly clean yourself off. You can't let yourself get distracted here. There's too much to do still. Don't get used to the luxury. Slipping out of the shower, you hastily dry yourself off with a very fluffy soft warm towel, before slipping into your habit, making your way back into the bedroom you woke up in to retrieve your belongings.
"Oh, that's much better, my Mast-" Ruler speaks up, before being cut off by a noise from the door at approximately the height Flat's head reaches, sounding suspiciously like the aforementioned Flat slamming face first into the door.
There's a fumbling noise from the handle, before the door opens outwards to reveal Flat, the beginnings of a bruise forming on his forehead. "Hey Mimi- it's really good to see you're upright really it was really scary when I saw you there cause you really were bleeding quite badly so I'm really glad Scathath was able to help you there-"
Flat's tirade is cut off by him dragging you into the second hug you've been dragged into within an hour of waking. It's a tad more awkward than the last one, with him half pinning your arms to your sides and his face somewhere by your shoulders… but it's not something you hate. He's got to have been worried about you to react like this. And… for someone to care about you like that- to maybe miss you if you weren't there… There are worse things to realise.
"Right- so the others-everyone- they're all in one of the living rooms here- it's a bit away which is why I came here to get you so are you ready?" Flat asks, having disentwined himself from you.
With Ruler taking up her usual place at her back, you nod. There's a lot you need to do- for the war- to give yourself a future. To live. And lying in bed after getting shot isn't going to get any of that done.
When you make it to the others, you focus on...
Pick two things to focus your recap on, the highest 2 totals win.
[] Focus on the battles from last night, get up to speed on the physical side of the war. Who's winning or losing?
[] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[] Focus on the enemy servants. What do you know about them?
[] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
Last edited:
[X] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
Is late, so will vote tomorrow. But:
That definitely sounds like a family crest of some kind, possibly one of these. (Tokugawa or Matsudaira, maybe?)
That definitely sounds like a family crest of some kind, possibly one of these. (Tokugawa or Matsudaira, maybe?)
EternalObserver
eYe Gaze baCk
- Location
- The Void
[X] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
- Location
- Elsewhere
[X] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
...Huh. I suspect this is a major hint about Ruler, but I'm neither good at figuring it out nor in a mood to try to do so atm.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
...Huh. I suspect this is a major hint about Ruler, but I'm neither good at figuring it out nor in a mood to try to do so atm.
- Location
- [REDACTED]
[X] Focus on the battles from last night, get up to speed on the physical side of the war. Who's winning or losing?
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
Namer
ᵘʷᵘ
- Location
- Maryland
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
At this point I'm pretty sure nobody's going to figure out Ruler until she gets explicitly named.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
At this point I'm pretty sure nobody's going to figure out Ruler until she gets explicitly named.
It could also be the Minamoto or Toyotomi crests - they look more like leafs with wreaths.
Which, well. Still doesn't narrow it down much.
[X] Focus on the enemy servants. What do you know about them?
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
Yada yada, "know thyself and thy enemy".
thelordofmango
may be stupid
- Location
- under a rock
[X] Focus on the people. Fights are one thing, allegiances are another thing entirely.
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
[X] Focus on yourself- how does what you now know about yourself affect the war?
052- Getting Reestablished
Sightedjt
Everlasting Flames
-Focus on the people in the war
-Focus on yourself
"So- who was she?" You ask Ruler as the pair of you follow Flat down a rather fancy corridor. It's an odd sensation being in a place like this. You don't really feel you fit in here. The apartment El-Melloi had was nice, yes but this is just something else; varnished wooden floors, the odd piece of artwork hanging on the wall, the sheer distance of it, it's all a world apart from what you're used to. So you talk, to distract yourself from that feeling of being out of place.
"Ah- well… I did say there were some things with me that were complicated." Ruler gives a quiet, awkward laugh as her geta clack off the wooden floor. "It's not a problem though, we'd already had everything worked out- nothing you need to worry about."
Right. If Ruler says it's not a problem, it shouldn't be. She's not steered you wrong so far- if she doesn't want to tell, you won't pry. You trust her on that front. So you just follow Flat for a minute or two longer, passing down a couple of halls and a flight of stairs, all in that same well-kept lavish style. You find yourself noticing a bit of a theme in some of the decor as well; namely, that there's a surprising amount of weapons mounted in display cases, with a gleam to their edges that suggests ready maintenance and which leads you to recheck the position of your own keys within your sleeves. But after a couple minutes walk, you arrive at a pair of fairly grand doors.
Without a moment of hesitation, Flat casually throws the doors open, announcing his presence as he walks into the room beyond. "Hey- Mimi's up and about again- she's all fine and Ruler's back as well!"
Wincing slightly at Flat's casual-ness, you follow him to the door of the room, cautiously glancing around from the entryway; it's a conference room of sorts? A large central table and some desks at the sides of the room, with the chairs and other accoutrements having a very office-professional look to them. Well, apart from the crossed swords on one wall, but that does seem to be part of the general theme of this place. As for who's inside- it's everyone. Izabetha at the head of the table, boring over an array of documents. Her Archer is standing in her usual spot at Izabetha's shoulder, calmly surveying the room. At a seat at the table that's at a calculated distance from Izabetha rests El-Melloi, with some papers of his own, Gray by his side. Scathath is giving Izabetha's archer a calculating appraisal, while by a small door in the back of the room waits an unfamiliar woman in a long, formal dress, who might as well be a sister to Izabetha, going off the identical hair and eye colours.
"Mi-sss Yagami!" Gray cries out as you enter, almost stumbling as she takes a few quick steps towards you. Behind her, you get a slight nod of acknowledgement from El-Melloi and Izabetha. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm- fine. It's not sore or anything." You touch your hand to where the scar on your chest lies as you blurt out a response to Gray, taken off balance by the concern in her voice. It really feels genuine. You're still not used to anything like that. "What happened while I was out- do you know?"
"We were just discussing that subject. There have been… developments." Izabetha answers you calmly as she stands, tapping some of the papers she has laid out before directing her attention to Flat.
"You could have let Aldetha fetch her." At this remark from Izabetha, the uniformed lady- relative? Who's standing at the side door nods slightly. "I still have questions about Dathmet's magecraft."
"Sure sure I can probably give you a few more pointers but Mimi's missed a bit more we should get her all caught up first." Flat shrugs in response, flopping down in a chair by Scathath, who simply gives a brief motion of agreement.
You take a half step back as all eyes fall on you, wavering from the attention for just a moment before you press forwards to lean onto the table, only half to steady yourself in the face of the attention. Once again, you find yourself grateful for the veil as you avoid meeting anyones gaze.
"The masters- the other ones. They're the ones driving things - what have they been up to?" Your speech is quick, rushed as you try to not stand in silent thought, to not make a poor showing of yourself here. "Are they starting to work together now? Assassin and Rider were doing that- And what's happened with Lainur?"
You feel a slight sting in your chest as you mention that name, as the reminder that you put Lainur in the sights of policies. Even so, you want to know what he's doing- and if they got him or not.
"Dr Leonardo Lainur has yet to join Felicia in the tender care of policies. Caster remains too much of a threat for them to make a decisive move." El-Melloi speaks up calmly, holding up and showing you the cover of a particularly low-quality newspaper, with the headlines screaming about 'MYSTERIOUS YACHT EXPLOSION', followed by something aboud Diana. "However, Servants of the Caster class are far more dependent on their territory and workshop than others, and while a mobile workshop has its own advantages, it is also quite vulnerable, a fact which Policies was quite aware of. So Caster and his Master have suffered a major setback to any plans they had in motion.
You're not sure how you feel about that. Yes it's good that they've been disrupted since they are your enemies here, and there's a little bit of you that's glad that they're hurting because they're not just mages, they're the ones who'd kept you in that cell- Flat and Izabetha and even El-Melloi might be mages as well but they're not quite the same as the ones that kept you there. They're a bit different. But at the same time it's still a bit sickening just how mage-like you were when you tossed Lainur to the wolves for your own benefit so casually and in such a behind-his-back manner, so it's almost a relief that Policies didn't get to him just yet.
"As for the other Masters, while I had been hoping to delay this moment for longer, they have begun to take us more seriously." Izabetha breaks into your brief moment of musings, her voice grim. "They have not yet united against us, but it is a matter of time. As such, I have been forced to align myself closer to your group."
"We're classmates Iza so it's hardly some leap into the unknown here- you really don't need to be so distant. We've all seen you having girl talk with Yvette- well except Mimi but she'll have plenty of chances to after all this over." Flat interjects cheerfully, leaning back on his chair.
"As a daughter of the Einzbern, there is far too much at stake in this war- I have my duties, and I could not allow mere sentiment to interfere with them." A slight flush appears on Izabetha's face as her composure slips, her voice raised in her retort.
"In more relevant matters, Lancer, you mentioned you'd made a discovery." El-Melloi interjects with a somewhat harsher, maybe tired, tone. It's enough to cause you to flinch slightly, even as Izabetha takes the time to rally herself, visibly taking deeper breaths.
"Indeed. When we disengaged from Archer in our previous engagement, I left behind a handful of snares, set to snatch an unwary familiar." Scathath steps forwards, her voice calm and even. "Early this morning, one took the bait. A basic sprite of flame. I would suppose it belongs to Archer's Master, given the sum total of their Magecraft we saw amounted to enflaming a handful of his Arrows. A pitiful display, considering their servant."
A flick of Scathath's wrist sends a razor-thin dagger flying into a map lying open on the table, embedding itself into the table with a satisfying thunk. The dagger itself is pointing to an area in the northwest of the city. "Given our prior skirmish, I suspect their base of operations is in this area."
"Agreed." Izabetha remarks, a slightly irritated look flashing over her face at the defacement of her furniture. "We have also encountered Archer in that area."
Izabetha's own Archer gives a silent nod at that comment, before returning to her silent vigil. Though as you see her attention pass over to Izabetha again, it looks just a little less sorrowful than you remember it being.
"There are vantage points and good lines of sight there. Any hunter would find it a natural place to defend." Archer speaks up, her voice as soft and mournful as you remember. "Not the highest point- look for the one in its lee. That is the first point he would take, after all."
"A sound assessment, Archer." Scathath nods in agreement. "Do not worry Master; while your cautious approach did serve us well against Berserker, from my assessment, Archer's master is far less capable. There is no need to hold me back for fear of tricks this time. Not when I doubt that even a command seal would let Archer go out. A shame."
Flat nods once, visibly swallowing at the icy tone that's crept into Scathath's voice there. With that, a quiet descends upon the room. It lasts for a moment, before you break it. There's something you want to know. Even if it's hard to ask. But you need to know. And Gray's here. Ruler's here. You've opened up to them before and it's been fine if anything happens they'd take your side.
"Then- one other thing. About the war." Even so, your voice is halting, hesitant and unconfident. You recall all the things they called you. What those mages said as they put you under the knife when they remade you. It's only the warmth of Ruler's hand on your shoulder that lets you keep going "I've- I remember. Before the archives. Why they found me at Fuyuki- I was there. I was-"
"The Lesser Grail, or an approximation of one." Izabetha says calmly, cutting you off. "After last night, how would I not know that? My family are the people who created these Grail Wars, and I helped with your surgery. I would not have the right to call myself an Einzbern if I failed to see that you were a Grail when I was inside you last night."
It takes you a moment for you to realise what Izabetha just said, your mouth hanging open gormlessly as you just stare blankly at her, a slight flush spreading across your face. There's a faint commotion from the other side of the table where Gray is currently fussing over El-Melloi, who appears to have just inhaled some rather hot tea, but that's not important.
"You- you knew?" Your question is just met with a brief nod from Izabetha, along with some sputtered coughing from El-melloi, who then speaks up.
"I had my suspicions, with what Felicia said and from some of the encrypted files in the notes we took from the archives. But nothing concrete until now."
You feel warm arms wrap around you as Ruler pulls you into a hug from behind, feeling your neck press against you as she whispers to you, the slightest crack in her voice. "Servants and Masters can share dreams, Mimi. When I was sleeping… I saw it. I saw what you had to bear. That you could live through a hell like that… I'm so proud of you."
Tears prick your eyes from behind the veil as you feel Ruler clench her hug even tighter, holding you even closer to her. "Then- if you knew- why didn't you say anything? This has to be important- right?"
"It's because- we didn't want to pressure you!" Your eyes snap wider as Gray calls out across the room, walking over to you, determination in her voice. "Mimi- we've seen you. We didn't want to pressure you- to force you into anything. We felt that if you knew- you'd tell us when you were ready. So- we'd wait for you. So we didn't hurt you."
A sob escapes from your throat as tears start to slip out from under the veil. Hearing something like that- there's something in your chest. An unfamiliar tightness. But- it's not something you hate. It's a different sort of feeling to what you're used to. Being treated like this- this caring. How are you supposed to know what to do here when you've never been treated like this before.
You squirm in Ruler's hug, turning your back on the others to bury your face into Ruler's chest, letting the cloth of her wrappings soak up any tears you shed. A slight blush spreads across your face as you whisper back to Ruler. "...Thank you."
You just stand there for a bit in her embrace, swallowing away the lump in your throat as Ruler gently pats your head, before Ruler's voice cuts into your reverie, soft and soothing. "I must say though, you're taking this impressively well, my Master. I was right when I said you had steel in you."
"It's- what you said to me before." You say back after a moment of silence. "I'd known that- something had ha- been done to me. I just... know what now. And what you said before. That just because I didn't remember it didn't mean it wasn't true. 'Does it actually change anything.' That's what you said..."
You pause for a moment as your voice trails off for a moment. "... You were right. It didn't. I'm still the me I was when I woke up yesterday. I just- know more now."
"Oh Mimi… I'm so proud of you." Ruler whispers as she pulls you even tighter to her chest, close enough that you can feel her warmth through your habit, close enough that you can feel the beat of her heart. Her voice is painful with loving joy. "You have grown so much since we met. I am truly blessed to have met you."
Another blush of an entirely different sort spreads across your face as you stand there for another minute or so, before you turn around, readjusting your veil after a moment's hesitation, as it had come aside when you were buried in that hug. It's still enough for the others to catch a glimpse of your face before the veil hides your eyes again. It's enough of a glance for you to see Gray smiling at what she saw.
"As for your first question- It both is, and isn't important to the war." Izabetha says, calmly rebeginning from where she'd left off as if nothing had happened. "From my assessment of you, you have forged a connection to the Grail, which was why you were able to summon your Servant. However, you are not linked in such a way that you will take the mana from defeated servants. That, or you simply cannot, given the damage your circuits have sustained."
A sigh of relief slips out of your lips at that news as you slump forwards to put yourself in a chair. You hadn't even thought about that. But if you won't have to bear that burden, that weight that burned out the others- you've dodged a bullet you didn't even know was coming.
"However, you must be kept safe, as you may be vital come the end of the war. You have become a person of importance to my family. There are many things I would like to talk to you about. Many things you would be able to clear up." You nod briefly at that, just sinking into the chair, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.
"I would also advise deciding on your allegiances for after the war ends sooner rather than later." El-Melloi cuts in, his voice calm. "I can think of several less than scrupulous families that would take an unhealthy interest in you in the light of this revelation."
You give a nervous nod at that, bolting upright in your seat- he's right. You've got to decide on what you do after the war because you're not going to go back to those cells you won't be someones resource again- Gray's said you can probably get an offer from El-Melloi and he really isn't anything like you thought he was at first glance… It's just there's still that last bit of trepidation there. At tying yourself back into the Clock Tower-
"Wait, you're not already with the church? When you're dressed like that, and carrying a pair of Black Keys around?" You start at Izabetha's comment, the surprise in her voice an unusual sound. You'd… really not given much thought to that even being a possibility. Could you do that? It'd… be closer to Kiara. And it wouldn't be with the mages. Though it might mean being away from Gray- and Flat as well you suppose. He's… not as bad as you first thought either. You might need to ask Kiara then, if you'd be able to do such a thing.
You shake your head, drawing an audible huh from Izabetha, before she turns to the woman who'd been standing by the wall this whole time, the one who might as well be a sister to her. "Aldetha, could you check on lunch? It should be about ready."
"Of course, Mistress Izabetha." Aldetha curtsies, before vanishing through the door she'd been standing by. Her voice really does sound just like Izabetha's- though that isn't how you'd expected her to address Izabetha. The rumble of your stomach, however, cuts off that line of thinking altogether as you realise that it's almost noon and you've not eaten anything today and you are starving.
What happens after lunch?
[] Talk to Izabetha more, about her family, about grails and what you remember.
[] Scathath takes you aside for training along with Flat. She has several insights to give you from the surgery she helped perform on you.
[] Go see Kiara. You want to see her again, to get her perspective on current events, and your future.
[] Just relax. You could really use some downtime. That, and you owe Gray after she paid for your food when you were at the cafe with her.
Who else are you with for that? (Pick up to two, who are not already present in your chosen scene)
[] El-Melloi
[] Gray
[] Izabetha + Archer
[] Flat + Scathath
[] Kiara (Only available with downtime option)
[] Adashino (Only available with downtime or church options)
QM note- why did I make a scene with so many characters in it?
-Focus on yourself
"So- who was she?" You ask Ruler as the pair of you follow Flat down a rather fancy corridor. It's an odd sensation being in a place like this. You don't really feel you fit in here. The apartment El-Melloi had was nice, yes but this is just something else; varnished wooden floors, the odd piece of artwork hanging on the wall, the sheer distance of it, it's all a world apart from what you're used to. So you talk, to distract yourself from that feeling of being out of place.
"Ah- well… I did say there were some things with me that were complicated." Ruler gives a quiet, awkward laugh as her geta clack off the wooden floor. "It's not a problem though, we'd already had everything worked out- nothing you need to worry about."
Right. If Ruler says it's not a problem, it shouldn't be. She's not steered you wrong so far- if she doesn't want to tell, you won't pry. You trust her on that front. So you just follow Flat for a minute or two longer, passing down a couple of halls and a flight of stairs, all in that same well-kept lavish style. You find yourself noticing a bit of a theme in some of the decor as well; namely, that there's a surprising amount of weapons mounted in display cases, with a gleam to their edges that suggests ready maintenance and which leads you to recheck the position of your own keys within your sleeves. But after a couple minutes walk, you arrive at a pair of fairly grand doors.
Without a moment of hesitation, Flat casually throws the doors open, announcing his presence as he walks into the room beyond. "Hey- Mimi's up and about again- she's all fine and Ruler's back as well!"
Wincing slightly at Flat's casual-ness, you follow him to the door of the room, cautiously glancing around from the entryway; it's a conference room of sorts? A large central table and some desks at the sides of the room, with the chairs and other accoutrements having a very office-professional look to them. Well, apart from the crossed swords on one wall, but that does seem to be part of the general theme of this place. As for who's inside- it's everyone. Izabetha at the head of the table, boring over an array of documents. Her Archer is standing in her usual spot at Izabetha's shoulder, calmly surveying the room. At a seat at the table that's at a calculated distance from Izabetha rests El-Melloi, with some papers of his own, Gray by his side. Scathath is giving Izabetha's archer a calculating appraisal, while by a small door in the back of the room waits an unfamiliar woman in a long, formal dress, who might as well be a sister to Izabetha, going off the identical hair and eye colours.
"Mi-sss Yagami!" Gray cries out as you enter, almost stumbling as she takes a few quick steps towards you. Behind her, you get a slight nod of acknowledgement from El-Melloi and Izabetha. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm- fine. It's not sore or anything." You touch your hand to where the scar on your chest lies as you blurt out a response to Gray, taken off balance by the concern in her voice. It really feels genuine. You're still not used to anything like that. "What happened while I was out- do you know?"
"We were just discussing that subject. There have been… developments." Izabetha answers you calmly as she stands, tapping some of the papers she has laid out before directing her attention to Flat.
"You could have let Aldetha fetch her." At this remark from Izabetha, the uniformed lady- relative? Who's standing at the side door nods slightly. "I still have questions about Dathmet's magecraft."
"Sure sure I can probably give you a few more pointers but Mimi's missed a bit more we should get her all caught up first." Flat shrugs in response, flopping down in a chair by Scathath, who simply gives a brief motion of agreement.
You take a half step back as all eyes fall on you, wavering from the attention for just a moment before you press forwards to lean onto the table, only half to steady yourself in the face of the attention. Once again, you find yourself grateful for the veil as you avoid meeting anyones gaze.
"The masters- the other ones. They're the ones driving things - what have they been up to?" Your speech is quick, rushed as you try to not stand in silent thought, to not make a poor showing of yourself here. "Are they starting to work together now? Assassin and Rider were doing that- And what's happened with Lainur?"
You feel a slight sting in your chest as you mention that name, as the reminder that you put Lainur in the sights of policies. Even so, you want to know what he's doing- and if they got him or not.
"Dr Leonardo Lainur has yet to join Felicia in the tender care of policies. Caster remains too much of a threat for them to make a decisive move." El-Melloi speaks up calmly, holding up and showing you the cover of a particularly low-quality newspaper, with the headlines screaming about 'MYSTERIOUS YACHT EXPLOSION', followed by something aboud Diana. "However, Servants of the Caster class are far more dependent on their territory and workshop than others, and while a mobile workshop has its own advantages, it is also quite vulnerable, a fact which Policies was quite aware of. So Caster and his Master have suffered a major setback to any plans they had in motion.
You're not sure how you feel about that. Yes it's good that they've been disrupted since they are your enemies here, and there's a little bit of you that's glad that they're hurting because they're not just mages, they're the ones who'd kept you in that cell- Flat and Izabetha and even El-Melloi might be mages as well but they're not quite the same as the ones that kept you there. They're a bit different. But at the same time it's still a bit sickening just how mage-like you were when you tossed Lainur to the wolves for your own benefit so casually and in such a behind-his-back manner, so it's almost a relief that Policies didn't get to him just yet.
"As for the other Masters, while I had been hoping to delay this moment for longer, they have begun to take us more seriously." Izabetha breaks into your brief moment of musings, her voice grim. "They have not yet united against us, but it is a matter of time. As such, I have been forced to align myself closer to your group."
"We're classmates Iza so it's hardly some leap into the unknown here- you really don't need to be so distant. We've all seen you having girl talk with Yvette- well except Mimi but she'll have plenty of chances to after all this over." Flat interjects cheerfully, leaning back on his chair.
"As a daughter of the Einzbern, there is far too much at stake in this war- I have my duties, and I could not allow mere sentiment to interfere with them." A slight flush appears on Izabetha's face as her composure slips, her voice raised in her retort.
"In more relevant matters, Lancer, you mentioned you'd made a discovery." El-Melloi interjects with a somewhat harsher, maybe tired, tone. It's enough to cause you to flinch slightly, even as Izabetha takes the time to rally herself, visibly taking deeper breaths.
"Indeed. When we disengaged from Archer in our previous engagement, I left behind a handful of snares, set to snatch an unwary familiar." Scathath steps forwards, her voice calm and even. "Early this morning, one took the bait. A basic sprite of flame. I would suppose it belongs to Archer's Master, given the sum total of their Magecraft we saw amounted to enflaming a handful of his Arrows. A pitiful display, considering their servant."
A flick of Scathath's wrist sends a razor-thin dagger flying into a map lying open on the table, embedding itself into the table with a satisfying thunk. The dagger itself is pointing to an area in the northwest of the city. "Given our prior skirmish, I suspect their base of operations is in this area."
"Agreed." Izabetha remarks, a slightly irritated look flashing over her face at the defacement of her furniture. "We have also encountered Archer in that area."
Izabetha's own Archer gives a silent nod at that comment, before returning to her silent vigil. Though as you see her attention pass over to Izabetha again, it looks just a little less sorrowful than you remember it being.
"There are vantage points and good lines of sight there. Any hunter would find it a natural place to defend." Archer speaks up, her voice as soft and mournful as you remember. "Not the highest point- look for the one in its lee. That is the first point he would take, after all."
"A sound assessment, Archer." Scathath nods in agreement. "Do not worry Master; while your cautious approach did serve us well against Berserker, from my assessment, Archer's master is far less capable. There is no need to hold me back for fear of tricks this time. Not when I doubt that even a command seal would let Archer go out. A shame."
Flat nods once, visibly swallowing at the icy tone that's crept into Scathath's voice there. With that, a quiet descends upon the room. It lasts for a moment, before you break it. There's something you want to know. Even if it's hard to ask. But you need to know. And Gray's here. Ruler's here. You've opened up to them before and it's been fine if anything happens they'd take your side.
"Then- one other thing. About the war." Even so, your voice is halting, hesitant and unconfident. You recall all the things they called you. What those mages said as they put you under the knife when they remade you. It's only the warmth of Ruler's hand on your shoulder that lets you keep going "I've- I remember. Before the archives. Why they found me at Fuyuki- I was there. I was-"
"The Lesser Grail, or an approximation of one." Izabetha says calmly, cutting you off. "After last night, how would I not know that? My family are the people who created these Grail Wars, and I helped with your surgery. I would not have the right to call myself an Einzbern if I failed to see that you were a Grail when I was inside you last night."
It takes you a moment for you to realise what Izabetha just said, your mouth hanging open gormlessly as you just stare blankly at her, a slight flush spreading across your face. There's a faint commotion from the other side of the table where Gray is currently fussing over El-Melloi, who appears to have just inhaled some rather hot tea, but that's not important.
"You- you knew?" Your question is just met with a brief nod from Izabetha, along with some sputtered coughing from El-melloi, who then speaks up.
"I had my suspicions, with what Felicia said and from some of the encrypted files in the notes we took from the archives. But nothing concrete until now."
You feel warm arms wrap around you as Ruler pulls you into a hug from behind, feeling your neck press against you as she whispers to you, the slightest crack in her voice. "Servants and Masters can share dreams, Mimi. When I was sleeping… I saw it. I saw what you had to bear. That you could live through a hell like that… I'm so proud of you."
Tears prick your eyes from behind the veil as you feel Ruler clench her hug even tighter, holding you even closer to her. "Then- if you knew- why didn't you say anything? This has to be important- right?"
"It's because- we didn't want to pressure you!" Your eyes snap wider as Gray calls out across the room, walking over to you, determination in her voice. "Mimi- we've seen you. We didn't want to pressure you- to force you into anything. We felt that if you knew- you'd tell us when you were ready. So- we'd wait for you. So we didn't hurt you."
A sob escapes from your throat as tears start to slip out from under the veil. Hearing something like that- there's something in your chest. An unfamiliar tightness. But- it's not something you hate. It's a different sort of feeling to what you're used to. Being treated like this- this caring. How are you supposed to know what to do here when you've never been treated like this before.
You squirm in Ruler's hug, turning your back on the others to bury your face into Ruler's chest, letting the cloth of her wrappings soak up any tears you shed. A slight blush spreads across your face as you whisper back to Ruler. "...Thank you."
You just stand there for a bit in her embrace, swallowing away the lump in your throat as Ruler gently pats your head, before Ruler's voice cuts into your reverie, soft and soothing. "I must say though, you're taking this impressively well, my Master. I was right when I said you had steel in you."
"It's- what you said to me before." You say back after a moment of silence. "I'd known that- something had ha- been done to me. I just... know what now. And what you said before. That just because I didn't remember it didn't mean it wasn't true. 'Does it actually change anything.' That's what you said..."
You pause for a moment as your voice trails off for a moment. "... You were right. It didn't. I'm still the me I was when I woke up yesterday. I just- know more now."
"Oh Mimi… I'm so proud of you." Ruler whispers as she pulls you even tighter to her chest, close enough that you can feel her warmth through your habit, close enough that you can feel the beat of her heart. Her voice is painful with loving joy. "You have grown so much since we met. I am truly blessed to have met you."
Another blush of an entirely different sort spreads across your face as you stand there for another minute or so, before you turn around, readjusting your veil after a moment's hesitation, as it had come aside when you were buried in that hug. It's still enough for the others to catch a glimpse of your face before the veil hides your eyes again. It's enough of a glance for you to see Gray smiling at what she saw.
"As for your first question- It both is, and isn't important to the war." Izabetha says, calmly rebeginning from where she'd left off as if nothing had happened. "From my assessment of you, you have forged a connection to the Grail, which was why you were able to summon your Servant. However, you are not linked in such a way that you will take the mana from defeated servants. That, or you simply cannot, given the damage your circuits have sustained."
A sigh of relief slips out of your lips at that news as you slump forwards to put yourself in a chair. You hadn't even thought about that. But if you won't have to bear that burden, that weight that burned out the others- you've dodged a bullet you didn't even know was coming.
"However, you must be kept safe, as you may be vital come the end of the war. You have become a person of importance to my family. There are many things I would like to talk to you about. Many things you would be able to clear up." You nod briefly at that, just sinking into the chair, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.
"I would also advise deciding on your allegiances for after the war ends sooner rather than later." El-Melloi cuts in, his voice calm. "I can think of several less than scrupulous families that would take an unhealthy interest in you in the light of this revelation."
You give a nervous nod at that, bolting upright in your seat- he's right. You've got to decide on what you do after the war because you're not going to go back to those cells you won't be someones resource again- Gray's said you can probably get an offer from El-Melloi and he really isn't anything like you thought he was at first glance… It's just there's still that last bit of trepidation there. At tying yourself back into the Clock Tower-
"Wait, you're not already with the church? When you're dressed like that, and carrying a pair of Black Keys around?" You start at Izabetha's comment, the surprise in her voice an unusual sound. You'd… really not given much thought to that even being a possibility. Could you do that? It'd… be closer to Kiara. And it wouldn't be with the mages. Though it might mean being away from Gray- and Flat as well you suppose. He's… not as bad as you first thought either. You might need to ask Kiara then, if you'd be able to do such a thing.
You shake your head, drawing an audible huh from Izabetha, before she turns to the woman who'd been standing by the wall this whole time, the one who might as well be a sister to her. "Aldetha, could you check on lunch? It should be about ready."
"Of course, Mistress Izabetha." Aldetha curtsies, before vanishing through the door she'd been standing by. Her voice really does sound just like Izabetha's- though that isn't how you'd expected her to address Izabetha. The rumble of your stomach, however, cuts off that line of thinking altogether as you realise that it's almost noon and you've not eaten anything today and you are starving.
What happens after lunch?
[] Talk to Izabetha more, about her family, about grails and what you remember.
[] Scathath takes you aside for training along with Flat. She has several insights to give you from the surgery she helped perform on you.
[] Go see Kiara. You want to see her again, to get her perspective on current events, and your future.
[] Just relax. You could really use some downtime. That, and you owe Gray after she paid for your food when you were at the cafe with her.
Who else are you with for that? (Pick up to two, who are not already present in your chosen scene)
[] El-Melloi
[] Gray
[] Izabetha + Archer
[] Flat + Scathath
[] Kiara (Only available with downtime option)
[] Adashino (Only available with downtime or church options)
QM note- why did I make a scene with so many characters in it?