Is there worth in falsehood?
STAGECRAFTER // Early Winter, 2007
Cornelius Alba had read once that heat of spices came in fact from the activation of the areas of the cerebrum dedicated to the sensation of pain. Voluntary and regular intake of such inherently evil foodstuffs as mapo tofu was thus in some sense equivalent to self-flagellation -- or more plainly stated, a method of deriving masochistic pleasure. Cornelius very much doubted that he himself classified as a masochist, but occasionally he wondered if it would be at all enlightening of his own character to look into the neural correlates of his addiction to bitter chocolates.
Unwrapping the golden foil about a Ghirardelli confectionery, he bit into the nearly-black surface, chewing slowly as he watched as the strands of light weave together above the formalcraft circle.
The Servant-summoning procedure of the Phantasmal Summer was a rather interesting piece of spellwork. Unlike typical thaumaturgy of the school of spiritual evocation, bottlenecking the rate of mana flow into the ring of binding did not result in spell failure. Instead, it directly modified the speed at which the Servant's corpus was materialized -- permitting the sort of slow-motion demonstration that he was now observing.
Cloth; leather; metal; flesh -- the end-product was irrelevant. If it was a feature of the Servant's body or armaments, it was uniformly fabricated through a weaving process not dissimilar to that employed by the mundanes in automated textile production.
Here, the material used was a monofilament wire formed of the Fifth Imaginary Element, which could be made to take on a variety of different properties at certain applications of odic energy and elemental exposure -- but to correctly format each segment of a wire some ten thousand kilometers long was monumentally difficult, and only moreso if the intent was to coordinate the assembly of a functional human simulacra. It was for this reason that the creators of the spell had been arrogant enough to leave flaws as easily-correctable as the mana bottleneck issue, essentially permitting the observation of their technique; simply, they didn't care. Even if one were to glimpse the sleight of hand beneath the facade, barring intense familiarity with the alchemical principles involved, replication was impossible.
'Classically Oriental dishonesty,' thought Cornelius, working through the remainder of his chocolate with a smile. 'It's amazing that the Eltnams haven't been called out on it in all these years. And somehow, the third-rates just buy into it like children after jolly old Saint Nick.'
In truth, no 'Heroic Spirit' could literally be summoned within the ring of binding; the Phantasmal Summer was nothing so fancy. Through the arbitration system of the War -- the Grand Ritual that the Eltnams had built in the city's bowels -- data pertaining to a given legendary personage would be gathered via lower-order access to the Moon Cell. Per record, a faithful artificial likeness would be constructed, and thereon installed with an emulation of personality. A Servant was, in short, literally no more than a spool of wire animated through alchemical transaction; a marionette.
Who better to wield such a weapon than a puppeteer?
Said the figure in the plague mask who now stood completed at the center of the ring: "I shall be the one to serve as the Rider of this War. I ask of you: Are you my Master?"
The empty golden wrapping of Cornelius' chocolate bar burst into cyan flames in his open palm.
"Yes, indeed," he said, giving a toothy grin.
//
It was early in the month, but already the storekeepers of the shopping arcade were putting up Christmas decorations, complete with unrealistic cotton snow and holiday-themed store jingles.
Most of them knew, however, that there probably wouldn't be a White Christmas this year; for the past three weeks, temperatures hadn't fallen beneath twenty-eight degrees. Nevertheless, the men and women busied themselves with preparations. It was for the kiddies and the young people, they reasoned. Wouldn't do to let customers down just because the weather was being disagreeable.
Before the entrance display at a toy store, a small boy tugged at his mother's skirt and pointed at a television that sat between the cute-looking plush dolls of a beaked character and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. On screen, a trailer was being played for the joint European-Japanese animation from which the the two had originated: Pucci et Jeanne, which fictionalized the adventures of Jeanne d'Arc and her companion angel.
"Can I have a Ponchi, Mama?" he asked.
"It's pronounced 'Pu-chi,' dear," said his mother, "and maybe if you're good, Santa will bring you one for Christmas."
Seeing the dejected expression on the child's face, a staff member that had been looking on picked up a plastic box from behind the cash register and walked over.
"Um, I don't mean to disturb you," she said, holding the box before her to show the Pucci plushie within, "but we're actually giving these away right now. It's part of a promotion we're doing, since the original creator of Pucci et Jeanne is holding an event at the Misaki Expo the week before Christmas. Five of these giveaway boxes contain a golden VIP ticket to go meet Mister Alba in person, for free."
The boy gaped in awe as the young, bespectacled woman handed him box.
"Mister Alba is coming to Japan?" he asked loudly.
"Yep," replied the young woman. "And you might just be one of the five kids lucky enough to go see him!"
The mother nodded thankfully at the store clerk, and put her hand on her son's shoulder.
"What do you say to the nice lady, Kenta?" she asked.
"Thank you, big sister!" shouted the boy, ecstatic. "I think you're very pretty, just like Joan!"
The young woman smiled back at him, brushing her long, blond bangs from the side of her face.
"I get that a lot."
//
RIDER // "The Professor"
master: Cornelius Alba
gender: ???
alignment: lawful evil
strength: E
endurance: E
agility: E
mana: B
luck: E
???
skills
Magecraft, Rank B: Proficiency with modern magecraft, as appropriate of one assigned a Sealing Designation of 'Philosopher'; special proficiency in the thaumaturgical animation of marionettes at significant range.
Territory Creation, Rank B: Capacity to establish an 'Atelier' -- a concealed, bounded territory that serves the Servant's needs as a magus.
Item Construction, Rank C: Capacity to construct, repair, or modify thaumaturgical marionettes of functional equivalence to Noble Phantasms of Rank C or below.
Puppetry, Rank A: Mastery over conventional and nonconventional puppetry. At this level, the Servant possesses such skill that in movement alone, his marionettes might be indistinguishable from living creatures. With thaumaturgical support, the Servant is capable of effectively inhabiting or 'riding' his creations.
Riding, Rank B: Most vehicles and live mounts can be handled with significant proficiency; special proficiency in the use of mechanical mounts or marionettes. However, the Servant is incapable of riding Phantasmal Beasts.
noble phantasms
???
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