Ritsuka is no social savant, but he has dealt with enough irate women in his life to know to butter them up before going forward. "You're more who I expected for Jeanne D'Arc, all things considered. You seem more like the girl who fought the English."
She harrumphs, but her sneer lightens. "Flattery will get you nowhere." She averts her gaze slightly. "And neither will harlotry. Where is your shirt?"
"Back in Orleans. You'll just have to deal with it."
She sneers, and circles around to his side. "What is your purpose here? Why would you stand in the path of justice?"
"You're burning France to burn England. It doesn't take two brain cells to see that fighting genocide is never a bad thing."
Ritsuka only has just enough time to harden his face before the Dragon Witch backhands him with a hand clad in jagged steel. Even then, it leaves long cuts and severe bruises on his face. "Know your place. You are a prisoner. Your life is in my hands, and I could end it without a thought."
"You say that, but we both know that isn't an option. You need information, and you have me at your mercy. Unless," Ritsuka says, eyes narrowed, "You're so volatile, so desperate to affirm your superiority, that you'd throw away a perfectly cooperative prisoner just because I'm giving you some lip. Tell me I'm wrong, General."
The Witch places an arm on his shoulder and squeezes hard enough to draw blood, but Ritsuka doesn't even flinch. He's used to pain. Magecraft, and martial arts, can't be taught without a bit of sacrifice. "Talk, Chaldean. What is your purpose here? Why fight me?"
"You are a threat to history, the source of a Singularity that is destabilising the Human Order. Jeanne D'Arc died in 1431, and most certainly did not return to life shortly thereafter as a Witch at the head of an army of monsters and servants to terrorise France," Ritsuka tells her matter-of-factly. "You are one of seven reasons humanity dies six hundred years in the future. And to save them, you have to die."
The fallen Saint lets go of his shoulder. She walks around and looks him dead in the eye, peering deep into Ritsuka's soul with her pale yellow eyes. "You want to kill me."
"I have to kill you," Ritsuka corrects. "You are a threat to history. You, and the Grail you possess."
The Witch narrows her eyes. She grabs him by the neck suddenly, squeezing hard enough to throttle his breath - but not enough to truly suffocate him. "You will try," she snarls through gritted teeth. "But you cannot, will not, kill me. I am vengeance, the fury of France incarnate. I return to avenge my death and countless others and nothing, not that fool or her army or your delusions, will stop me from finding it. England will burn as they burned me."
"Then… why… France…" Ritsuka gasps. He does not beg for his life; there is no point. There is no reason to fear for his life, because she will not kill him. And if she does then she is a bigger idiot than he knows. "Why… burn.. Your own…"
"I was betrayed, you foolish boy. If France is to find vengeance then all who betrayed me will die for it. It will be done, and nothing will stop me!" She lets go of his neck, leaving it a bloody mess covered in cuts. Ritsuka gasps for breath, hungry for air. But he glares at the Witch anyways, furiously defiant.
"Then you're a fucking idiot," he sneers. "Even if you succeed, there will be nothing left. You just finished the job for them."
She strikes him again, hard enough to blind him for an instant. The world spins as stars sparkle in the black void of his vision, and the countless bruises and cuts on his face sting. "Know your place," she growls. "Your will is admirable, but I will break it - or I will break you."
"Try… me…" He manages, despite the concussion.
Then again he already has his Saberface and +1 so...
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