Fate/Reclamation (IC)

[arkturus]

No One
Nowhere
Nowhen

In the deep, silent depths of dark ocean slumbers a quiet soul.

It rocks softly to and fro, its consciousness drifting between waking dreams and restless nightmares. And such dreams they are, dour and somber, full of death and loss. Perhaps somewhere, in a dream within a dream, an answer can be found. And so the slumbering soul explores the life that once was, wandering from memory to memory, a labyrinth of single moments stretched into eternity.

Watching.

Studying.

Reliving.

It searches for different paths, wondering where it all went wrong, wondering how it could all be fixed, wondering, and wondering. Over and over again, until the memories, both happy and melancholy, are ground to dust.

A birth.

A funeral.

A small step forward.

A crushing failure.

They are all one and the same.

The faces of comrades lost.

The names of those held dear.

They all fade with time.


And yet the pain lingers.

The grains of sand that once formed the rock of this nameless soul’s very being scatter and joins the ebb and flow of the formless sea, raising and falling without end until—

A soft light pierces the darkness, resonating, and bringing shape to the formless sea. The scattered soul reforms and the eternal moment is lost.

Someone is calling and something demands an answer.

And thus the nameless soul awakes.

---

Assassin of White
15th of December, 2004
Himitsu to Hanazono “Akechi’s Apartment Complex”
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

The silver circle pulsed with power as the words of power were spoken. Mana flowed freely from the gems into the liquid metal and the air grew thick and hot with ether. A white light began to glow from the catalyst that lay in the center of the mercury circle, a small dagger as pitch-black as the night. Sparks of pure energy crackled in air and Akechi could feel her hair standing on end.

The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the white light filled the room, papers scattered as a whirlwind of ether crashed into being. And as the light and the wind and the heat died down, a robed figure stood in the center of the silver circle, a white hood obscuring its face.

The figure knelt on the hardwood floor, instinctually grasping the black dagger from the circle and scanned its surroundings, looking for threats and avenues of escape with a trained eye. And as the Grail filled her head with information of the modern era—for indeed it was a she—clarity dawned. She had been summoned to fight in a war, a Holy War like no other. One between magi and their Heroic Spirits.

She stood to face the lone woman, to whom the study—what else could it be but a study—belonged to. She smiled as she thought of the interesting times that lay ahead, of this second chance that Allah had seen fit to give her.

“ArE yOu My MaStEr?”

[Kuroyuki]

Akechi Tohsaka
15th of December, 2004
Himitsu to Hanazono “Akechi’s Apartment Complex”
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

As the light grows brighter and more powerful, several other things occurred. The air grew hot and electrifying from the sheer raw amount of prana flowing through the room as if there was a plasma ball being formed. you

Despite the room being the least exposed in the complex with no windows, I could feel a strong wind similar to the one you could feel in Hyde Park picking up my newly acquired customs papers and sending them into a small tornado.

But the most important thing was that I could feel a presence being formed. Even if my eyes were blinded and I couldn’t hear anything over the tornado of paper, I sensed something being made in front of me. At first, it felt like a scattered dream. Then as the dream became whole, it felt like a far-off memory. Eventually, when everything lined up, I felt an incorruptible will and this feeling of want.

When the light finally died down, I finally saw my servant. In front of me wasn’t a proud knight, a wise mage, or even a maddened warrior. Instead in front of me, I found a weapon. A knife in the dark that waited for the most opportune moment before striking. Someone whose legend wasn't sung aloud but instead spoken in hushed whispers.. tube

In front of me was the Servant Assassin, one of the infamous ‘Old Man of the Mountain’, Hassan-i Sabbah. While it wasn’t Archer or a Rider like I was wishing for, I can use a knife like this. Just like a scalpel, all I have to do is aim precisely to cut what I want.

“Yes, I am your master for this Holy Grail War. My name is Akechi Tohsaka and it’s nice to meet you Assassin. If you would like we can walk around briefly so that you can familiarize yourself with the area.”

qoOdaEK4ceU

[Leftovers]

Berserker of Blue
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)
Clock Tower (Department of V) - Alexandra's Office

"I mean, I'm the type of lazy sod who should be booted from his chair to fight whatever arsemongers are skulking in the night. But hiding behind your back, love? That just don't seem right. You're gonna get those pretty clothes of yours dirty, and that's a damn shame."

The more Freogan ran his mouth the more fidgety he got, grasping at words to keep what would be an awkward silence at bay. At least awkward for him, because every expression that got him closer to conveying exactly what was bothering him also seemed to bring him further embarrassment. While he tried to look anywhere but at Berserker, the tips of his ears reddening, she felt a pang of guilt for putting the man on the spot even as a joke. It should have been obvious from his earlier exchange with Alexandra over her eating habits that Freogan's abrasiveness and brusque manner belied how seriously he took the things that he considered his responsibility.

Her Master had a devoted person looking after her, that much she could tell.

"Just feels like I... Eh, the hell if I know. Like I ain't doing enough for either you, bridesmaid, or Gigantor over here. Useless, in other words."

So said Freogan, finally finding the right formula to express his vexation. While his colleague shook his head with an amused smile as if he had seen it all many time before, offering his own input to chaff the younger man in his moment of self-consciousness, Berserker gave him a smile with no hint of condescension. That Freogan felt his place was in the battlefield, putting his life on the line for those that could or should not do the same was a natural impulse for men no matter how much time had passed. But for all the eagerness of men to shed their blood for what they ought to protect, it took another kind of courage altogether for them to express those feelings to others—against the fear of being thought of as soft and weak or their inability to accept that sentimentality as part of themselves.

Unnumbered must have been the regrets of warriors dying in some land away from home, thinking back to those words forever left unsaid. Having the self-knowledge to understand one's feelings, though they might seem foolish to other people, was nothing to laugh at. Even an intuitive aversion to seeing other people being hurt in your place; for a magus, that much was hardly a given.

"Do not think lowly of yourself, sir." Berserker shook her head lightly to dispell that notion. "I understand the sentiment behind your words and that you meant no offense. Yet prithee rest assured that it is my purpose to bear arms for my Master. As we are both, in a manner, instruments of our Lord's will, let us each take to the battlefield assigned to us."

Though she was trying to reassure Freogan her words had a tone of finality to them, indicating that she would brook no further argument over who would fight in the frontlines—barring, of course, a command from Alexandra herself. The woman had not interjected during the exchange, still staring into space in what Berserker was already coming to think of as her default state. The other man - Vlastos - somewhat excluded from most of the conversation was now making his thoughts known about the practical aspects of the ritual and the strategy proposed by Freogan with the air of a man who had both the analytical mind to fully comprehend the given circumstances and the eloquence to expound an argument in such a way that its soundness was clear to be seen. And as could be expected from someone who at first impression seemed like a natural counterpart to Freogan's brashness, he was less than impressed by the idea of a bold preemptive assault.

“While our position in the Clock Tower is relatively stable at the moment, a significant blow to the department could bring all kinds of vultures out from the woodwork. Both political and… otherwise. At the very least we should find something to occupy the attention of Lord Yumina. That should give us some leeway in this regard."

That much answered one of Berserker's own questions that she had not given voice to, shedding some light on her Master's standing in this fiefdom-like institution of magi: the power she could wield, and the dangers to the stability of her rule that she had to be wary of. It was well within the realm of possibility - and in fact it was almost a certainty given the sheer concentration of magi that could possess the necessary resources and knowledge - that there were other Masters lurking within the Clock Tower. There was no guarantee as to their intentions or capabilities, and that was before even considering the preexisting political climate of what was shaping up as an aristocracy derived from meritocracy, like some old philosopher's ideal state yet occupied by people all too human in their desires and aspirations.

At the very least it seemed that Alexandra Chimeragenos had one other Lord keen to see her fail. Though Berserker could only focus on the battles ahead her Master also had to keep in consideration the knives being sharpened behind her back, from whose metaphorical wounds the Servant could not defend her.

Perhaps Vlastos was meant to handle home affairs, so to speak? But she could not yet guess as to their affinities, if they were even specialised in such a way, much less Alexandra's plans for them. For now the man turned his attention to her, addressing her directly for the first time since walking into the Lord's office.

“Miss… Berserker, was it? Could you give us a general estimation of your own capabilities?"

The diminutive woman blinked at that, and then turned to look at her Master in an unspoken query as to whether she should reveal that much about herself to these men, allies though they were. But before she could put her question into thought over their shared link Vlastos held up a hand, perhaps picking up on the issue from that display, and corrected himself quickly.

“No, wait. That is probably needlessly indirect, considering the situation. My apologies. The more pertinent question is probably…. Can you guarantee us absolute victory based purely on your power as a Heroic Spirit?”

In response to the man's inquiry Berserker brought a hand to her chin in contemplation, the other supporting her elbow at her waist. Now that was a peculiar phrasing, one that she could bring to attention to better explain her capabilities; only she would be running into the same problem of revealing information about her nature that her Master might have not intended to be known by anyone else. Such pointless insubordination would needlessly incur difficulties in the future; and besides, she was not even sure if such a distinction would serve to enlighten or confuse the two men who only had partial knowledge of the nature of Heroic Spirits to formulate their thoughts. Without knowing Alexandra's intent to summon a specific kind of being and that being's true name, vague allusions would be of no benefit to them at this point in time.

And also...

'Bridesmaid', was it. Would Freogan Deofolgeat have been compelled to feel that way about a being that proclaimed itself to be a monster? She had no longing to the compassion of others, no beast's hidden desire to be treated as a human. She denied these feelings when she aligned her entire being to that singular desire. The monster does not seek comfort, pity, acceptance. But she still wonders... if it is for the sake of others, should she break that illusion?

"I..."

It was a chance to make clear the reality of the Holy Grail War, where monsters lurked behind the masks of splendour and innocence. But truly she did not need to explain to these thaumaturgists who had peered into the manifold expressions of the fantastic that all was not as it seemed. What mattered - what Vlastos was asking about - were results, and what brought results was power—whether it came from a hero or from a monster.

"...I will plainly say that my legend is not one of martial might. Nevertheless I possess the ability to match the great heroes of mankind in direct combat. While there can be no guarantee of absolute victory even with a Servant of the highest calibre under one's command, I have been deemed an acceptable tool to deliver victory by my Master, and nothing less than that will suffice."

An answer that wasn't really an answer, but rather an affirmation that the question had been raised and answered to the satisfaction of the only person whose expectations truly mattered was given to the two lecturers. In other words--

Trust in your Lord who trusts in my strength. Hers are the hands that wield me.

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“A perfectly natural offshoot of alchemy, huh?” As Caster shows me her handiwork, my perception shifts, just enough so that I can properly observe what is going on. While it’s true certain magi have different “personalities” more suited towards doing one task or another, this is just a simple task of applying focus and thinking that certain phenomena must be observed.

Though, I wouldn’t call this perfectly natural in the slightest. If that were the case, you would think someone in Geology or one of the other alchemy-related faculties would have demonstrated something like this and slapped a patent on it. It’s the kind of thing that would make quite the money… A rapid and efficient way to establish a workshop? Anyone would gladly love to have something like that under their repertoire.

A quick glance at Caster, and—

Ah, nevermind. I’m sure she has her reasons. The most important thing is to focus on her work… and how this room is practically drained of ambient mana. Recovery could take a while, but maybe with tonight’s excursion that won’t be a problem anymore…

“What’s the transmutation process like? Or, rather, how does everything retain its shape once you’re done?” I ask, without knowing much. I didn’t really dabble with the wide variety of magecraft demonstrated in my own faculties. Rather, I just focused on what I was good at and the basics, so when it comes to certain forms of magecraft like the aforementioned alchemy, I’m not exactly what you could call an expert. What I am good at is… teaching idiots the basics.

But the person in front of me is most certainly not one of those, a blessing in of itself. I can’t help but think I’d go crazy if I had to explain everything to my Servant…

[Spinach]

Alexandra Chimeragenos
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)
Clock Tower (Department of V) - Alexandra's Office

“First comes information.”

Paying no heed to the ongoing back and forth between the three, the Lord laid down the foundation of her future actions. Trivialities such as ascertaining her Servant’s capacity were beneath observation: Chimeragenos had summoned Berserker, and thus Berserker needed not be doubted.

The all-seeing lifeless eyes honed the pressure of their observation upon the monster. For a mere familiar, for a ▅▂▃▃▄▄▅▅ it possessed an unprecedented willingness to serve. As if the ancient, malformed soul, eroded by the tides of time in its eternal dream yearned to serve. To be bound, directed.

Or was it simply that servitude afforded hope, as slim and faint as such a concept may be for one such as she.

A heat haze, collapsing over a sea of sand.

The Lord restrained her gaze, spreading it evenly across the office. The reasonings of the Servant held little value to her. She would not scoff at or deny a weapon with such willingness to destroy for her sake. Its high-grade mannerisms, capable of holding dialogue with Vlastos and Freogan alike, were simply a bonus to compensate for the monster’s unchained ego.

“There is no need to move more than those gathered here, Vlastos. I won’t allow this impertinent ritual to create an opening for the Department to fall prey.” Affirming her lack of intention to do the bold and needless, Alexandra finally began to address the situation more thoroughly. Having offered the two the opportunity to outline their own approach to the war, the time had come to make a decision. “Without question, we have the necessary force to crush the first enemy we locate. Certainly the second as well. But our actions will not go unnoticed. The enemy is unified. Countermeasures will be prepared to answer our aggression.”

Stone familiars leapt onto the map, planting their winged selves atop key locations across London.

“Our first order of business is to identify the enemy and ascertain their capabilities.”

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“What’s the transmutation process like? Or, rather, how does everything retain its shape once you’re done?”

Already, Caster had filled the room with all manners of work desks, some chairs, terminals and devices of shapes familiar and unfamiliar alike, gradually depleting the accumulated pool. But she stopped entirely when Erika spoke up, and in response to her master's inquiry, the girl's eyes lit up, and she immediately leaned forward with barely restrained excitement. She had clearly been looking forward to being asked and gave a small cough against the back of her glove.

"It's simple, really! To start with, have you ever heard of black sand? It's a bit of a misnomer, really - they call it magnetic sand, but it isn't as though the sand itself is magnetic. Instead, it's a mineral called magnetite that's mixed in amongst the rest. Very, very magnetic, moreso than any other mineral in the world! I remember reading that it was traces of volcanic glass or basalt that gives it the color, but the magnetite was the useful part, really."

"Ah, there's whole beaches of the stuff sprinkled here and there. Though the lion's share is on the mainland and scattered around the pacific islands. Which stands to reason, after all, don't you think? Oh, the ones in Sicily are supposedly to die for! Of course, I'm not altogether fond of Italy, for various reasons, so for this it really had to be Wales. It was either that or go to the States, and you can imagine the easier trip," she made a wandering gesture with the tips of two of her gloved fingers, shortening the distance between them. "Plus I got to take in the music - did you know Wales has the loveliest harp music? A real specialty. They even have a festival entirely devoted to music and poetry! The eis-tedd-fod, if I recall...? I might be mangling the pronunciation, hm. Welsh was always something of a weak point in my studies. But I quite liked one of the players there, young as he was. I made sure he kept in touch. It was worth the detour, though I was there for the beach, really! Though I suppose I'm not a fan of beaches, come to think of it. Sand is coarse and irritating stuff and I can't seem to build anything to keep it from getting everywhere. Oh, but useful!"

She paused a moment, holding a finger to her lip. "Where was I? Oh, yes! The magnetite. I separated it out and converted them to this useful little iron powder. A few modifications and inscriptions here and there - as small print as could be - and they essentially take in mana, use it to replicate themselves, and the process produces a magnetic field that they are altogether responsive to." The girl nodded, looking back at Erika with a concerned moue. "That's why I didn't want you to touch it, by the by. The instructions do tell them not to seek out od - only 'whatever is right and proper in constant prosperity' - but who knows if the summoning interfered with that? They're delicately tiny inscriptions, after all. Not worth the risk. Well, not right now, at least! But they're very easy to manipulate, ahaha! After all, iron is the element of Mars, not to mention willpower - a lovely foundation for making it responsive to thought and action, and what better way to express that than with magnetism?"

Caster smiled as if it was self-evident - or made any sense at all - and made a pleased noise. The girl was beaming to herself as she looked back at her work, twirling her fingers and enjoying the elegant whirl of the powder stream. She glanced back with a giggle. "See? See? Easy to move, and then it's just a matter of transmutation. I just have to tell it when to stop," she murmured, whirling the stream faster into a little coil. "...and what I want its constituent elements to be, and then..."

A spark ran across the surface of the ring, scattering traces of the powder and leaving behind a thin, luminescent filament wire that Caster caught on two fingers. "Just like that! Wood, metal, tin... gold is a bit hard, I need other inscriptions for that, I'm afraid. Now then, the really interesting part, at least to me, would have to be... Oh, hm, yes definitely...!"

The girl planted her hands on her hips, smiling proudly, and after the barest pause to breathe, opened her mouth to continue...

[arkturus]

Assassin of White
15th of December, 2004
Himitsu to Hanazono “Akechi’s Apartment Complex”
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“Yes, I am your master for this Holy Grail War. My name is Akechi Tohsaka and it’s nice to meet you Assassin. If you would like we can walk around briefly so that you can familiarize yourself with the area.”

“VeRy WeLL, MAsTeR. LeAd ThE wAy.”

Assassin nods at Akechi.

Akechi opens the door and gestures for Assassin to follow after her into the hallway of the complex.

“The room we just left was my study. It’s one of the few rooms in this complex that doesn’t have a window outside. It’s also where I store a lot of my magecraft material so it’s arguably my most important room.”

Akechi walks a bit further down the hallway and points towards a room down the right.

“Here is the kitchen. It’s pretty well stocked so feel free to eat any food that catches your attention. Let me know if it’s empty so I can restock.”

Akechi starts heading towards the stairwell and starts heading up.

“The Ground Floor, 1st, and 2nd floors are just filled with decoy rooms. They’re fully furnished, but no one lives in them. So I won’t bother taking you down there.”

Akechi opens the door to the 5th floor.

“Up here on the 5th Floor, there’s my room and… someone else’s…”

Akechi gets kind of quiet at the mention of someone as well losing a lot of her earlier confidence. She glances at the door with a little uneasy before opening up a door right next to that someone else’s room with her earlier confidence.

“This is the maintenance and electrical room. It also leads up to the roof by a ladder.”

“HmM, sO aN eNtirE aPaRtMeNt bUiLdiNg At yOuR diSpOsal.” Assassin murmured. She knew that apartments were supposed to house a large amount of people. To own the entire building suggested a decent amount of financial resources and influence to keep potential tenants away.

“Yes. Originally the Tohsakas bought it to get away from the Edelfelts as well as a place to closely watch the Clock Tower’s movements.”

“So a FEud BeTWeeN mAgE HoUsEHoLdS. KeKe. YOu ReAlly aRe a DiStRusTFuL LoT, Not ThAT I bLaMe yOu. I’d dO ThE sAmE.”

Assassin looks around, judging distances and taking note of strategic choke points before turning back to face Akechi.

“So Who is ThiS ‘SoMEonE ELsE’ ThAT yOu ShaRe a RoOm With? A SisTer? A FaMiLy FRieNd? WiLL thEir PreSeNce iNTerFere iN oUr...aCTiviTieS?”

Akechi stops and thinks about Assassin’s question because she was hoping to avoid that train of thought.

“...That room belongs to Darling.”

Akechi’s tone once again sounds quiet and unsure.

“And I’m not sure if he is involved in this. All I know is that he’s on another mission in the United Kingdom.”

“Ah, I sEE…” Assassin coughed. The atmosphere got just a little awkward but she was a professional so it wouldn’t do to let that get in the way of work.

“T-there’S...nO ReAsOn tO bE aShaMed Of yOuR hUsBaNd iS tHeRe? BeiNg bUsy WiTh wOrK iS jUst AnOtheR pArt Of tHe dOmeStiC LiFe nO?”

At the mention of husband, Akechi’s face turns slightly red and before she noticed lost control of herself.

“H-husband?! W-we aren’t married! We’re just dating each other... I mean we live with each other and do t-those kind of things but we’re not married yet!”

‘W-wait what am I saying me?!? Get control again. Act like nothing happened. Yes just calmly mention Darling’s job and how it might impact us.’

“It’s a bit more problematic than that Assassin. He’s one of the Clock Tower’s Enforcers so we’re not exactly sure if he is involved or if he’s just hunting down a new Sealing Designation.”

“I sEE...” Assassin sighed heavily and muttered under her breath something about thots and asking the Prophet--peace be upon him--to preserve her. Things just had to get more complicated.

“So WhAt’s tHe NeXt SteP iN yOuR pLan?”

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

I nod.

There are plenty of Lecturers, well, more like people, really, who love to gush about their research as if it were some of the most splendid things in the world. In that sense, Caster isn’t too dissimilar from those of the Association. Though, rather than merely gushing about the methodology, she’s also the kind of person to go on tangents… I wonder if I should let her continue or politely cut her off? I suppose that just depends on the situation.

It’s a terse sort of silence from myself as I watch her demonstration, Caster filling in dead air with the sound of her voice. So it’s almost-microscopic inscriptions on the magnetite? That’s interesting… Well, I’m more impressed that my Servant has the sheer finesse to perform such a feat. Any error and the whole thing could conceivably go up in sparks, or even worse.

Wait.

I recognize that sharp intake of breath. Regrettably, I’ve done this myself, but any student knows where this leads… I can almost feel the phantom echo of a cramp in my hand. If earlier was rather rambly, I’m not sure if it’s worth listening more to glean information that could easily be condensed into one or two more sentences. I mean, there are things such as being too brief, but conversely sometimes you don’t really need the minutiae to understand the gist.

Well…

I’m sure letting Caster ramble on won’t hurt, right? I’d feel guilty for cutting her short when she’s so excited. She probably hasn’t had anyone to talk to about this for many, many years—relatively speaking, of course.

[Kirby]

Saber of 『　』
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

He shakes his head, and I sigh. What, did he lose his appetite? Strangely squeamish, for someone who calls himself a murderer.

A good thing, in a way. Though a bit odd.

After cleaning up something in the hall, he leads me to some underground area, a bite of cold air making it suddenly more apparently how light these robes are. He skirts around the few others lingering about the complex, as if he were sneaking around. Surely, if someone were to look at him now, he would come off as nothing but utterly suspicious.

This complex seems to be for storage, rows upon rows of painted steel carriages— cars, as my newly acquired knowledge tells me. Apparently this world has reached such a level of wealth that everyone could afford one of their own. He fastens a strap around my waist, strangely fidgeting all the while. Sheepish. Is he still shy? But he does so wordlessly, and I look around for any sign of horses. He turns a key and brings the thing humming to life all on its own.

A curious sight. A carriage with no horse. And as he drives it out of the building, onto the streets, it turns out the world’s full of them!

I peer out the window, taking in the surroundings. People on every corner and street. Streams of cars, some tiny, some enormous, weaving in and out of streets. Steel towers in the distance, higher than any building I’ve ever seen, not even in the Capital. And as I take it all in, face pressed against the window, breath fogging on the cold glass, knowledge from the Grail flows in, a strange sensation like recalling memories of someone else’s dreams, and it gave them all a name.

Taxi. Decker bus. Shopping mall. Skyscraper.

I fidget in my seat. The city stretches on to the horizon, no end to it in sight. Bigger than any castle or capital city I’ve ever seen. Forget the War. I just wanna get lost in this city all day!

◆

Which I’d do, if I could just get this strap thing off of me.

So he leaves me in this car and tells me he’ll be back, and of course, like a utter fool, I listened to him.

Someone sure is taking their sweet time.

Among other things. How long has he been gone? It’s cold in here, and I’d just been sitting tight for a while, but as I try get out of my seat, I realize can’t move. I’m stuck. What is this? What is this? A seatbelt I’m told, yes, very helpful, thank you Grail, but I know nothing of it other that it’s supposed to keep me safe. When I jerk in my seat, it locks even harder. How do I get this thing off of me? What are these, some sort of restraints? Like a leash for a dog?

Drastic times call for drastic measure. I look about me, to see if anyone’s watching.

And I disappear.

I forgot about that for a second there. Can I be blamed for that? Is anyone really used to being a ghost? I pass through the straps like a breath of air— turns out, there was a button on the side I just hadn’t seen— and slip out of the car. Thankfully, no one was around to notice my struggling.

I find myself in the parking lot, near something called a shopping mall. An enormous building a short bit away, positively swarming with people, home to maybe hundreds of markets! I pass over the crowd like a ghost, following the signature of my Master’s prana, and crane my head, taking in the sights.

Fountains seated at plaza centers, streams and mist shimmering in the chill afternoon. Stalls of food and drink, of all shapes and colors and smells, things called coffee or smoothies or donuts. Streets of immaculately clean buildings, white walls and white pillars, underneath a far-above glass ceiling, sunlight filtering through making it all look so strangely bright. Forget the city, I could just get lost here for a day.

Eventually, I find him at a store for clothing. Peering over some sort of dress with an expression of sheer discomfort and reluctance, as women passing by him shoot him glances and mutter under their breaths.

I stand— as much as a ghost can stand— right behind him and speak to him in my head.

“Is something the matter?”

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Given a chance to continue, Caster held up a gloved finger, her blue eye sparkling with renewed life.

"An interesting consequence of the process is that it's more responsive to my thoughts than I had anticipated. Originally, I posited that I would need to craft all the little bits and pieces, which would simply take forever," she murmured as she shaped another blocky, container-like device in the far corner. The girl strode to it confidently, wire in hand, and pulled open a panel to reveal a surprisingly intricate, already-shaped interior. She began to plug it in, causing the machine to hum to life.

"But they take care of that for me! Which is a darling help, as I was always a bit more into design than production, if I'm being quite honest. Satisfying work, but exhausting and there's so much else to do. I'd much rather design it and ride a horse, or read a book, or better still start the next project. Oh, but I don't mind if I must, either. Let someone else do it, but if they can't, do it yourself. It's important to be versatile, don't you agree? But yes, at first I wondered why. Did they already know what form they were supposed to have? I hesitate to buy into Plato's silly ideal - I fundamentally disagree with any theory that's predicated on denying the possibility to grasp more than something imperfect. It annoyed me even as a child. Frustrating, really. But then, that still leaves the question, why?"

She shook her head, picking up the container and giving a little grunt of effort. She tiptoed, holding the position as she held it up to the wall. Balancing the bulky container against one arm, she made a few quick gestures with her other hand, connecting it to the ceiling by newly-formed wire. "The answer was obvious when I really sat down and thought about it. If you craft something to create what's dear to every man, how can you expect it to know what's dear to you if you don't? It was a bit silly of me, really... As long as I know what it looks like inside, that's what it will look like. Of course, that means I have to design it first, ahaha! Nothing so convenient as territory skipping the architect entirely. I'm sorry it took me awhile to finish sketching the design, though. If I build it all poorly, well..."

She paused, tilting her head back at Erika. "Well, it might not connect to the area correctly, or some mana may leak out. Or I may put too much weight on the ceiling and bring it down. I suppose that'd be bad, too, when you've made me feel so at home. The Nanoha was very fascinating, I think, you and your roommate are lovely hosts," the tall servant murmured as she looked back up at the ceiling, which was quickly becoming crowded with Caster's handiwork. She squinted, frowning, then nodded to herself. "I'm fairly confident in my assessment, though. The tour helped, thank you so much!"

A moment's silence. Long enough, perhaps, to hope she was finished.
Caster seemed satisfied by now, the last of the powder expended.

But then she grinned, folding her arms behind her back with a cheerful bounce and continued. "Ah, but that's not what I meant by the interesting part. The most interesting thing to me is the pushback against magnets in magecraft to begin with. After all, there's such a marvelously rich relationship between magnetism and magecraft. Whether you believe it was the Greeks or the Chinese, lodestones - magnetite again, ahaha - were so steeped in superstition and mystery. Healing the sick, exorcising spirits, manipulating the invisible forces of things... Such fertile ground for so many hundreds of years, abandoned just because it was discovered and explained," she sighed, her blue eye and white pinpoint skewing to the ground, her shoulders slumped. "It's just short-sighed and... and... silly! Of course, I can't deny that it's lost much of its efficacy when it comes to spells. The invisible actors of the world take their bow the same as any other, and the days of healing all ails with such a modest tool are long, long gone. Believe me, I tested it."

"...But I can't agree that something is worthless, merely because it's been diminished," her expression when she looked up was different - a half-smile, looking at her master but also staring back at something far off. "In need of a new approach, perhaps, but even a discredited technique can be re-purposed and create something wondrous. They say Paracelsus relied on his magnets even as he debunked their misuse. The most interesting thing to me is that even something so entirely stripped of its wonder can be used and applied to discover beautiful mystery."

She finally stopped talking, closing her eyes with a serene, satisfied smile. And then, another breath...

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Lovely hosts? No, no, that’s really too generous. I’m sure there could have been someone else that could have easily provided something better for Caster. Though, at the same time, it’s rather unlikely they would have summoned her in the first place. Still, I don’t think Natsuki and I are bastions of hospitality. Though, shouldn’t I check on her sooner or later?

Not that I dislike listening to Caster… I mean, I agree with her about many things, and her perspective on repurposing objects with declining conceptual strength for the purposes of magecraft is certainly interesting. It’s probably something I would hear in one of my many Modern Magecraft lectures. The ones not scrutinized thoroughly by Lord El-Melloi, obviously. Who decided that such an ass-backward man be in charge of something that lies on the forefront of magecraft? I’ve heard that Lord Valueleta uses an iPod, for crying out loud, so there are clearly some Lords with modern sensibilities…

But, that’s a tangent off course with Caster’s explanation of what she sees in the world. And now it’s dawned upon me that unless I cut her off, we’ll really be here all day. So, to make sure I both have time to prepare and inform the only person who is seemingly a coordinator in all of this, I have to politely tell Caster to stop.

“I’ve gotten the gist of it, Caster,” I say, remembering that she prefers a straightforward approach. “I still have some things to do, so I can’t just stand here and listen to you talk all day.”

Too blunt? Not direct enough? Well, what matters is that I can get to the kitchen, where Natsuki is cooking something. That’s where I left the poor gargoyle, at least.

“I’m coming to the kitchen so I can inform someone of what we’re doing tonight, so if you want to come… Rather, if you want to eat, Natsuki’s cooking. I know you don’t really need to, but we’re not that fiscally challenged to let you enjoy things…” I say simply, hoping that this might cheer Caster up after cutting her off. I feel quite awful interrupting her, but some things really are just necessary evils.

[Kuroyuki]

Akechi Tohsaka you
15th of December, 2004
Himitsu to Hanazono “Akechi’s Apartment Complex”
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“So WhAt’s tHe NeXt SteP iN yOuR pLan?”

"Our first step will be to identify all the masters participating in the Holy Grail War. Blue, white, and any extras that were dragged in. We identify all of them before moving to our next step."

Akechi opens the door to her room and gestures for Assassin to follow. Upon being followed, Akechi heads to a desk in her room and pulls out a map of London. uHubRw

"We contact all of our allies and note their positions in case we need to help them. In the case of enemies, we observe them until we have a plan suitable enough to eliminate or convert them. I'll leave the eliminations to you or another master as needed." Z-hZw

Akechi points to the map to indicate her father's study.

"Currently, I have contact with three other masters. Those are my little sisters Rin and Sakura. The last master we have contact with is Shiori Amakusa, my father's apprentice. Father will bring us contact details for the Matou Masters... However, I will most likely need your assistance in finding the Einzbern as well as the Blue Faction Masters."

Akechi closes up the map.

"However, we can start that tomorrow. I'm going to meet up with Father as his daughter one last time as well as pick up the Matou contact details tonight. Do you have any questions? If not, I need to dress up suitably to meet him at the Opera tonight."

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“I’ve gotten the gist of it, Caster,” I say, remembering that she prefers a straightforward approach. “I still have some things to do, so I can’t just stand here and listen to you talk all day.”

Caster rocked on her heels, about to start all over again, when Erika interjected.

"Oh? Oh..." Her voice deflated. At once, the blonde girl stopped rocking, her blue eye widening in surprise. She held one arm against her stomach, her other gloved hand cupping her cheek as if slapped. She held the shocked position for one, two, then five seconds...

...and then nodded, slapping her own cheek once. "Well, that's true, you're right, I suppose! Ahaha... My apologies, Erika, I do get carried away," Caster agreed with a rueful giggle, still holding the arm against her waist. "It's fun to discuss, but we don't have time to be burning daylight. You made plans, after all, and I'd hate to be tardy."

“I’m coming to the kitchen so I can inform someone of what we’re doing tonight, so if you want to come… Rather, if you want to eat, Natsuki’s cooking. I know you don’t really need to, but we’re not that fiscally challenged to let you enjoy things…”

"Why yes, that sounds lovely! I'll be along in a few moments, if you don't mind me catching up. I just want to make some final little adjustments."

Yes, I'll definitely need to fix that before we go out.

She let go of her stomach, idly tugging at the black material on one of her gloves, her fingers curling and uncurling. Just a little maintenance to complete.

[zikari8]

Mori Shiori
15th of December, 2004
Central London – The Ritz
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

"So, to answer your question: do I believe that God exists? As much as I believe that I do. If he did not, why should I? I would just be an appendix without purpose."

Taking great care to appear casual but attentive, Shiori took in Lancer’s answer with great interest. Under the guise of her pretend elegance, however, she stifled her expressions as to not show her full opinion on the matter. Although she wanted to make an appeal towards her innocent intentions in calling Lancer a familiar, the topic of Lancer’s speech left her mind to ponder it. She paused for a few seconds with a somewhat contemplative gaze while smiling.

“I see.” She spoke at last. “That is certainly an inspiring answer. There are not many people I’ve met outside my family who would put forth such a bold answer. I must concede that I am both surprised and glad to hear such.”

That much was true. Yet what Shiori did not reveal was the unease that Lancer’s conviction gave her. She did find the Servant’s personal faith commendable, admirable in fact, but even so she couldn’t help but be shook a little. The idea of a ruler under god… no matter how benevolent, it was something that fundamentally didn’t settle right with her. She did find Lancer a good person but… as it seems, she really wasn’t suited for mingling with the mighty.

Still, there was no need for a little unease to get in the way of their talk. From the context, it seemed like the higher purpose she mentioned earlier has to do with some form of divine mandate. On an emotional level, Shiori found that to be quite pleasing to work with.

“Truthfully, I share the same sentiments, Lancer. As flawed as I am, my purpose is also tied to the will of the Lord.”

She downed the rest of her tea to wash down any doubts. As her mind tried to think of what else to say, she realized that she had forgotten where she had been going with the original question after her little moment of contemplation.

“Um… Ahem.” She made a petite cough to correct her tone. “Now, I’ve asked you a question, Lancer, so let me pass on the ball. If there’s anything you’d like to ask me about myself or the war or the current age, go ahead.”

[I3uster]

Lancer of White
15th of December, 2004
Central London – The Ritz
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

"A faithful from the orient? Are you catholic, little girl?" Now her interest was piqued. The girl seemed to imply that their faith was not so far apart. It would not be out of the question that the word had been spread even this far. The information provided to her had not filled her on details beyond the scope of the war after all.

"It is a pleasure to hear that you yourself bear as strong conviction, whatever it might be. As much as force and wit are required in warfare, this will be our deciding factor." Lancer interrupted her gesturing with a dramatic forming of a fist. She stopped herself before hitting the table and played over her uncharacteristic expression of aggression with a cough.

"Well, if you insist on me asking, I would like to know if there are any allies on your side. People we can trust...a strong alliance is what shall carry us to victory, if you shall allow my humble opinion..."

[zikari8]

Mori Shiori
15th of December, 2004
Central London – The Ritz
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

"A faithful from the orient? Are you catholic, little girl?"

For a moment, Shiori considered how best to convey her faith before deciding to go with the easiest to consume answer.

“Yes, I am. There are likely some slight differences in our practices due to the culture of my land, but I would consider myself catholic, or at the very least, Christian.”

"Well, if you insist on me asking, I would like to know if there are any allies on your side. People we can trust...a strong alliance is what shall carry us to victory, if you shall allow my humble opinion..."

The slight modesty in Lancer’s question was a tinge surprising.

“Ohoho~ there is nothing humble about your opinion, Lancer. Your wisdom speaks for itself.”

As haughty as the current Shiori was being, such a fact was evident.

“As for your question, we do have allies... in name atleast. As the grail may have informed you, this war will be a battle between teams of seven Master-Servant pairs. Naturally, all six other pairs are officially our allies.”

As she spoke, Shiori gently refilled her now empty cup with more Darjeeling, which she then regretted ordering in favor of a more familiar blend. Once her cup was full, she continued to describe their allies in more depth.

“As for their trustworthiness… I’d say it depends on the family. Each of the other six Masters come from one of three families, ancient allies with other, the Tohsaka, the Einzbern, and the Matou. ”

Despite her usual inclinations, Shiori found herself feeling the need to speak at length. Perhaps her newfound abilities included a knack for exposition.

“The Tohsakas are a family I am very familiar with. From one perspective, it could be said that I am participating in this war solely to support them. In that sense, you could consider them our closest allies. I know both Masters of their family and can guarantee that they are all trustworthy good natured people.”

“I am not as familiar with the other two, however. I have never met an Einzbern nor do I know much about how they are organized… however, I can say without a doubt that they are good hearted people who fight on the side of justice. We can definitely trust them and I think they would make a strong ally. Unfortunately, I know even less about the Matou. By correlation to the former two, I'd surmise that they too are good people, but I'd be more wary around them. And, as for the servants of these masters, I currently have no clue as to their nature.”

Taking care to catch Lancer's expression, Shiori lowered the tempo of her speech slightly after her infodump.

"Well, that's my assessment. Perhaps it would be better to go and meet them in person, as soon as possible? That way you can judge for yourself."

[Katie]

Erika Kanzaki
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

“Alright then.”

Well, if Caster says she wants to be left behind, I’ve no right to contest. Besides, I’m sure whatever she’s adjusting will be manageable enough that she’ll follow shortly after. Even so, I can’t help but feel concerned over my Servant… But shouldn’t it be the other way around? Sure, I interrupted her pleasant tirade, but ultimately, shouldn’t I be concerned about my own safety and Caster’s own capabilities more than her well-being?

...That’s the voice of a true magus, I suppose, committed to the cause. Something Lord Chimaeragenos would no doubt say without any hesitance. Even so, thinking these unpleasant, if efficient thoughts… they don’t sit well with me at all. I can feel my stomach being unsettled at the very thought, and we’re just about to eat…

I make my way into the kitchen, where the scent of food tells me Natsuki has been doing her business. The gargoyle remains perched on top of the fridge, where I left it. I suppose now is a good as time as any, but first…

“Burgers? Really?” Though, I won’t really complain. I’m just surprised at Natsuki’s choice for today, considering what happened just now. And speaking of which, I see she already factored in Caster joining us as well. Natsuki is remarkably attentive when she wishes to be, so that’s a plus in her book. Most of the time, though, she’s just too easygoing…

“Don’t you ‘Really?’ me. You were totally down for this when I suggested it the other day.” She isn’t wrong, although I expected for Natsuki to make something more traditional. And burgers are kind of a modern thing, so maybe that’s why she’s doing this? To get Caster acclimated to the common era? If there had to be a real reason, I’d just assume Natsuki really felt like it. While she complains endlessly about British cuisine, she seems to have no qualms about whatever crazy American meal is on her plate…

“Alright, alright. Do you mind being quiet for a bit? Gotta inform the Lord of your faculty about something important.” Natsuki nods, before turning her attention back to the patties. I guess cooking is something that leaves her without spare attention to make a fuss over nothing. I motion for the gargoyle to come closer, and relay what I want to say.

“Tell Lady Chimaeragenos that [REDACTED].” With that done, I take a seat and begin the waiting game for Caster to come. Natsuki usually preferred being left alone, and her sticking her tongue out in concentration… Well, I think it’s best to leave her this way.

[Reiu]

Arwyn Cadfael Penrith
15th of December, 2004
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Despite this having originally been meant as a simple side trip, conveniently located near a plethora of places to dine, somehow the original goal of this outing seemed a distant concern to Arwyn now.

With each surreptitious glance at him by mildly bemused passerby, he only seemed to shrink and wilt more and more. Never before had he felt so out of his element, as he began to feel increasingly that he was, in some way, an unwelcome invader in the formerly familiar department store. He swore he could almost feel the prim disapproval of his surroundings palpable to every fiber of his being, or so he imagined.

“Is something the matter?”

Right there, visibly startled, he froze—he hadn’t even considered the possibility that a salesperson would approach—
…oh, that voice was familiar.

Sheepishly, he turns. Only to, then, realize that he was looking at thin air.

He blinks.

Was he hearing things? But he was certain he had heard, loud and clear……


”Hi, right here. Servants like us can maintain an incorporeal form.”

Saber’s voice, again. Beyond doubt this time.

……Well, really, he should have known that. After all, back then, he was sure he hadn’t seen her anywhere when she suddenly materialized behind him, had it not seemed so?

He nods, vaguely—was there a particular direction he was supposed to nod at to thin air?—and turns back to the shelves of clothing.

“…Do you…see anything here in particular to your liking?”

He tries to murmur this under his breath, as best and quietly as he could, with minimal movement of his lips. It being a weekday nonetheless did not help his situation much, with shopping tourists aplenty in the vicinity even then. He could only hope he wasn’t drawing the attention of the staff, at least. Somehow.

”…I have no particular tastes in clothing. Pick whatever you wish.
“……Ah. And you don’t need to say all that out loud. People are starting to stare.”

……

………She was right. Yes, of course she was. But then what was he supposed to do? Not out loud? …Beam his thoughts at her on naught but a wing and a prayer and hope she would magically read his mind?

”Yes, yes. Like that.”

His unspoken question answered with an unexpected answer, his eyes open wide in an expression of half-disbelief, half-embarrassment.

Could she really…? Then how much had she…?

…No. No, it was best to not think too much on the matter. Times like these called for a stiff upper lip, to keep calm and carry on, to always look on the bright side of life, et al., and so on, et cetera.

After all—there was a much greater challenge at hand to which he must devote his attention, one that he had somehow never dreamt he would ever encounter.


That is, how in the world was he supposed to pick out clothing for a member of the opposite sex, with not even any guidance whatsoever to guide him?

—Pick whatever you wish.

The words of his doom.

[Sunny]

Caster of Blue
15th of December, 2004
The House in Misty Village
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

After a few minutes, Caster stepped out of the ritual room, pausing only to reach down and tug on the edge of her thigh-high boots, adjusting them and pulling them slightly upwards. With a thoughtful noise, she glanced back at the open door. Her laboratory was more or less ready. She'd primed the generators to start running by the end of the night. She had double-checked all of the connections were operational. And for now, at least, she'd fixed that nagging little problem.

Hm hm hm. Yes, I think that's everything!

She nodded to herself, nudging the door shut. Her inclination was to check over everything a fourth time, but it wouldn't do to dawdle. There were still a number of things to iron out about their agenda for the night, after all. She wanted to know more about what their objectives were. She was interested in what kind of area they would be visiting and how London had changed since she'd last visited too. She still had a lot of questions for Erika, as well. And she was still curious what it was Natsuki had actually made.

Yes, especially what she had made.

Not that I really need anything but... that does smell awfully nice...

She shook her head, grinning. She was never the type to deny herself anything, after all, particularly not curiosity. No time to start now, really.

"Ahahaha... First things first, then, what's for dinner?" the girl murmured to herself, before dashing cheerfully down the hallway to join the others. Caster stuck her head through the door to the kitchen, practically hanging from the frame as she peeked in. "Sorry for the wait! I just--" She stopped. With a soft whir, her goggle lens shifted to the dinner table, quickly scanning and taking in the table settings, and the number of them.

The tall servant was motionless for an uncharacteristic number of seconds. Finally, closing her eyes with a small sigh, the girl let go of the doorway and hurried inside. "I just wanted to make sure I was prepared."

[I3uster]

Lancer of White
15th of December, 2004
Central London – The Ritz
Afternoon (Phase 1-2)

Lancer did not break eye contact for even a second, transfixed on Shiori as she counted up all their options. It was imperative to remember the names of the players involved, after all fighting was only a part of victory. To really come out of this alive they had to be aware of the shifting of loyalties a war so often caused.

"I see. We should definitely try to establish contact with those Tohsaka then. I am not confident I could withstand a coordinated attack by whatever rabble that makes up our opponents..." She relaxed her posture just enough to edge a bit closer to Shiori. "And do you know anything about our enemies, speaking of them? Surely rumors must have reached you, or have you gathered any information yourself perhaps?"

It was not only tactics she had been interested in. Through all of their conversation, at least when not swept up in her own words, the Servant's attention had not been focused entirely on the girls words. Out of the edge of her sight the woman kept checking the girls posture, tone of voice and facial expression. Her statements were clear and concise, but yet they lacked the sense of grandeur her first impression had displayed. And something seemed to have bothered her about the tea...she was still a bit too easy to read.

Presentable, but there was still work to be done. Sadly, it had to wait after the night.