You look down at the box of cookies for a while.
This is totally suspicious.
… but they smell so
good.
Unable to help yourself, you reach a hand under the box and pull a cookie free from its prison. One bite and you've confirmed how delicious they are, a second and the rest of the cookie is gone. It takes a considerable amount of willpower to not just eat the entire box then and there. Toting it back over to your kitchen, you set it aside and think ahead to what you'll be spending the rest of your day doing.
Well, there's the matter of someone coming straight up to your door. You'll need to address that. In a number of ways. Sighing, you leave the cookies behind and return to the section of the house that you would truly call your Workshop. Once a study, now filled with a number of different devices and materials that make you think of a puppeteer's atelier, rather than one belonging to a Magi. You settle yourself in on the lone chair, willing the chorus of puppets following you to bring you what you need.
Which has a familiar face plopped down on the table, staring lifeless up at the ceiling. Your face.
Most people would feel unsettled looking at a naked, lifeless version of themselves, but you're well beyond that. Puppetry is an art and these creations are your canvas. Modelling them after yourself wasn't unintentional, after all. You thought rather highly of your own appearance, so replicating it came naturally to you. But if people are going to come up to your door, then it might be smart to send something in your place. A copy of you is well and good, but if you can pretend to be someone else…
It's your own nature that forces you to use
a face from memory. It isn't a person you know all that well, but you won't deny her beauty or power. Your hand clasps around tools as they're brought to you by the puppets. Skin is peeled back, hair plucked free and everything rebuilt from scratch. Gruesome work, to be sure. Every now and then you feel Lancer's gaze peer over your work, but you pay him no mind. You continue on in the knowledge that this will definitely help you in one fashion or another.
Considering the task is likely to take all day, however, you divert your resources about as you work on the more menial tasks to scouting the area around your mansion. Through the eyes of one of your dolls, you immediately notice something out of the ordinary. A little, white-haired girl, who, through the sight of your doll, was shining almost blindingly with power. This girl was, to put it bluntly, the single most powerful person you had ever seen in your life.
It was absolutely terrifying.
In fact, this girl was so terrifying to you that you almost overlooked the figure behind her. It was a very large man, three times the smaller girl's height, wearing a black and red military style uniform, along with a very impressive looking hat decorated with a skull. He cut quite the intimidating figure, even putting aside the toothed-sword he had at his waist. It was impossible to see his eyes from the angle your doll was at, but his expression seemed quite serious and harsh, a great contrast to the little girl before him.
"Saber! This is boring! Why aren't there more evil people to fight? I can't be a Hero like you if there's nothing to do!"
The larger man, obviously a Servant from your doll's perspective, merely sighed tiredly.
"Trust me, child, you should treasure these moments of calm. If I could never fight another battle…"
The girl pouted quite visibly, before replying with something your doll couldn't catch, as the pair walked out of hearing range.
There's no chance to follow after them without leaving your sphere of influence, so you do your best by filing away what information you remember about them. Just at a glance the man didn't look like a Servant in what you'd been imagining them. The stories revolved around Heroic Spirits – people of legend. You'd done a bit of history before participating so you thought you would recognise a figure or two, but Ornstein? This Saber? None if it made any sense.
You catch yourself a single moment before your hand slips, steadying yourself. Considering you're working on the fake Circuits it's a lucky thing, too. You divert most of your focus back to your work, delegating only a little attention to your dolls. As the day passes by, you realise rather quickly that you're going to be spending the rest of your time on the doll in front of you if you want to finish before nightfall. Your intention to work on fortifying your Workshop is quickly forgotten in favour of the task right in front of you.
Unfortunate, but there's nothing you can do now.
Before night truly falls over Fuyuki you finally manage to finish. The glassy blue eyes stare up at you – no, through you. It's not awake yet. There's no point in waking it now, either, so you leave the newly built doll on your desk as you leave the Workshop for the first time in the majority of the day.
Indeed, there's no time to properly do anything to your Workshop before nightfall. As it's the second night, you doubt you can get away with doing nothing, either. You'd ask Lancer's opinion, but… honestly you feel a little strange about it. Your link to him is strong, but the emotions you get across it feel foreign.
Lancer is not human like you are, of that much you're certain.
You lean up against the wall alongside your study and close your eyes. There is much to do, and not enough time to do it.
Choose Two
[] Go scouting.
-[] Anywhere in particular?
--[] Alone?
--[] Take Lancer?
--[] Send Lancer alone?
--[] Send your human doll?
---[] Send Lancer with it?
[] Maybe you should visit the Church tonight…
-[] Take Lancer?
[] You could still work on your Puppets.
-[] On anything in particular?
[] Ask Lancer's opinion.
-[] About anything in particular?
[] Fortify your workshop!
You have seen Saber! His parameters have been filled in...
Your visibility has increased!
) it just means we get to the information in a more roundabout and entertaining fashion. Besides, Fate:Stay Night quests live and die based on their master/servant interaction, so I'm sure Alice will be violently thrown out of her comfort zone sooner rather than later.
