Doubting you will only be a detriment to our victory. And as you said, we both swore our oaths. We're the same in that regard, men who will stand by our words. I understand that and thus will not doubt you or the power that is concealed.
[The smile widened, showing a few too many teeth to be mirthful but without the glittering malice of something truly dangerous--at least, not dangerous to Takame. To say he wasnot dangerous was itself incorrect; everything about him was the personification of a flawlessly honed blade kept safely in its scabbard.]
[For now.]
Monte Cristo Mythologie--the form of the treasure left behind upon that very island. To invoke it is to reclaim it; in a way, 'Edmond Dantès' ceases to exist. Can you surmise, my clever Master, what happens then?
[For Edmond Dantès to cease to exist, in his place would...
Given the furrow in his brow, the pressing of his lips, Takame had a strong idea. Neither thing was in fear or discomfort at the result or the foreboding smile Berserker gave, quite the opposite even.
But he waited for Berserker to confirm it himself.]
[If the idea bothered him, it didn't show on his face. Edmond seemed more amused than anything, perhaps even bored by the concept.]
'Farewell to kindness, humanity and gratitude. I have been Heaven's substitute to recompense the good--now the god of vengeance yields to me his power to punish the wicked.' Indeed, 'I' would disappear and in my place would stand that which I became. God's avenging angel himself.
[He knew exactly why it mattered. Even had an answer to the question that was not a pointed evasion. But it was a conclusion Takame would have to be led to realize on his own.]
I am your Servant. Command me as you please, and I will reclaim that treasure when you deem appropriate.
[Takame let silence linger between them for a moment. In the long term, it did matter. But for now he simply nodded.]
When the moment comes that you are to reclaim that treasure, let it be final time you are referred to as 'Edmond Dantès'. [Let that accompany the command for Berserker to unleash his power.]
[Time, Berserker believed, was a nebulous thing for we Servants. 'Have been', 'am', 'will be', all states with gray areas between them. He may have been but nineteen in body, but his mind harbored memories well beyond those halcyon days in Marseilles. Of course it mattered whether the mortal or the monster was at the forefront, but it was no great and terrible quandary for him to bear.]
I am a weapon at your command; there is no reason to hesitate on my account.
[Takame let out a huff of breath. Neutral as every word out of his mouth was, but if he were capable it would have come across as a scoff or bitter laugh.
Blades did not need to call upon such emotion. He stood from where he sat, aimlessly going to the window and moving the curtains to look upon the city. He muttered to himself again two sentences, the same one just in both languages he knew.]
A weapon leading a weapon, a blade leading a blade. Such is my designation.
[Designation. Not his name. Indeed, the surname he held not only didn't match that of his "family", but was simply a word for a blade. Even a humorless man like Takame saw it.]
Ironic. [All there was to say on the matter as he continued to look out the window. Close inspection, at least after he let that opinion out, would reveal a focus in his eyes. He was looking for something.]
...As I am but a mere Servant, I can not speak with authority on the matters of mages. But unless I misunderstand- [he did not] -I believe it is common for Masters to summon those with like minds to themselves. Or, failing that, those with whom they can find common ground and coexistence.
[He unfolded gangly legs and all but hopped to his feet, striding over lazily to join Takame at the window.]
I think there is meaning in my coming to you as Dantès, rather than the King of the Cavern. Potential unrealized at a journey's start, the first steps upon a grander and longer path.
... No, you have the right of it. That is what is common.
[Barring possessing a specific relic of said hero, but that was irrelevant here. It's at least part of the reason Takame hasn't fought back as much against what Berserker has said.
Habit made him re-do his ponytail as his Servant approached. Always to be kept as such, but also something to do with his hands. All the time he spoke, his eyes did not leave the window. It was known limbal rings for the Au Ra were lost in childhood and mere aesthetic past then. At no point in their preparation did Takame ever put on contacts, but there were very clear rings in his eyes.]
I'm aware of the potential I possess. 'Tis the reason I am the family's soldier in this war. Beyond that... I cannot say for sure. If it is something that you see and I cannot, then I will try to take you at your word.
[Was there a future for him beyond the Grail? He did not know.
I am not one to insist upon a right or wrong course for those like yourself. [With good intentions, rather than those bearing malice and cruelty. Those he'd certainly insist upon a particular course for, often violently.]
[Hands in his pockets, he shrugged and looked out at the city.]
But should my counsel be taken under advisory, then all the better for both of us.
[Only the heavens knew what Takame's intentions were. Takame didn't. His intentions were his family's. And never asked theirs.
Never thought to until Berserker--]
...
[His attention locked onto something, though what it was wasn't clear. His gaze didn't move for a long while and the spines on his tail rose. All the while he stood with a neutral expression.]
The sun has yet to set, and still... [He shook his head, this time in clear disapproval.] Another Servant has been summoned.
... Do you recall how I mentioned having good eyes for magi hiding in plain sight. That was not metaphor.
[His eyes still didn't leave the window, seeming to focus on the city's outskirts where land was being cleared for development. A part that had yet to be reached to that end.]
For as long as I can remember neither small traces nor massive bursts of magic have ever escaped my sight. All have unique "signatures", in a manner of speaking. As to my certainty that it is a Servant all I can offer as proof is the fact that I've never seen this sort of "signature" before you... and a sensation in my chest.
[A sense to kill. A holder of Mystic Eyes with a sense to kill. It was no wonder this family wanted him alive.]
Undoubtedly, we'll be receiving information from the clan's head soon. And that will be its own sort of proof.
...How interesting. The more you speak, the clearer the picture of what it is we contend with.
[Not only Masters and Servants, but the wider circumstances themselves. Showing his Master the truth of the latter would be a challenge, but one easily navigated with some caution. The former...well, truly, that didn't worry him all that much.]
[The double meaning in Berserker's words went over Takame's head as he was solely focused on the former. He, too, was not as concerned with it though. Or if he was it didn't show.
Failure was not an option, after all.]
It begins here, Berserker.
[Takame's "purpose", his Holy Grail, began here.
Indeed it was late into the night when the confirmation was received through coded message: The last Servant had been summoned, some manner of Rider type as Takame predicted the summoner would blow every cover save for the Servant's true name.
For all intents, the revised plan was as low risk to the clan as possible. Orders given were often for Takame and Berserker to stand down and let the competition pick away at each other. The most he was told to do was venture out with his Servant and observe as his eyes could even pick up on an Assassin-class lurking about with ease. Even Takame himself could take one on with caution.
But every request was shot down. And even met with reprimand that caused him to tense and shrink. Almost every time Takame checked his phone he became stressed. Save for once, a single message signed by one "Kesi Hina" not coded or even relevant to the War. Just well wishes and to expect a nice call soon.
About a day or two passed since the official start but this evening Takame opted to take a walk with his Servant towards the city's outskirts. His tail didn't sway as he walked as much as it jittered in agitation constantly.]
My apologies, I... I'm quite restless, I'll confess.
[Edmond of all people was one to advocate patience--indeed, in the past days he had muttered some brief phrase in French several times when their orders were issued. But there was, he believed, a line between patience and indolence.]
...If I might speak frankly, Maître?
[He would express his opinion regardless, but the way in which he went about it depended on the response. A gentle tug or a harsh pull to the loose thread; one was needed, but only the one suited to the matter at hand.]
[Takame had trouble reading a room most days, but he wasn't entirely inept. He knew Berserker was frustrated, but little did Takame realize just how much he agreed. But every barked order made him scuttle backwards with his tail all but literally between his legs.]
[Harsh pull it was, then. Given the allowance to speak freely meant he wouldn't need to dance around the issue quite as cautiously; merely read his Master's frustration and respond with some kindling to light that spark.]
I will acknowledge that my strength in this form is near nonexistent, and direct confrontation bears risks as a result of that fact. However, to pair that with your unparalleled senses and plan accordingly should be the role of a strategist such as those to whom you answer.
[Sighing, he ran a hand through messy dark hair. This really was vexing beyond measure, but the look he wore was one of no more than light annoyance.]
It is my perspective that they lack the faith in my skills that you bear, and moreover that they regard you as a prettily engraved blade to be kept upon the mantel than a worthy combatant in your own right.
[Where his tail jittered before it periodically lashed now. By his side his fist clenched, but as ever was his habit he started to re-adjust his hair just to keep his hands busy.
Keep it on clean display.]
Thinking in such a way... is not... [Advised. Not for Takame, Berserker could think in anyway he wished, hence why Takame did not finish that sentence. There was a flash of his fangs as he continued, though trying to keep his blooming frustration out of his tone.]
I... I've spend my life in training for this but they still hesitate and I do not understand why... I've been made to adapt to any manner of Servant Class and yet the one they did not expect, you who I regardless intent to utilize and support, is that which they have no answer for now. [Fear prevents them from controlling this class.]
There is... there is a reason, surely but they won't tell me what it is...!
[He was fighting against the truth in front of his face. Trying to find a justification... there had to be one, there had to be one, there had to be one but...!]
I do not know with certainty what it is they think, no more than I can say I know what you think.
[He could say he knew quite a bit about both, and those words were very carefully chosen to reflect that. Dishonesty was unbecoming towards one's allies.]
They underestimate me, this I suspect, but to them I am an unknown factor. Strength unmeasured, and thus unable to be controlled.
Fucking hells, he shook his head and nearly started to shrink into himself.]
I... [He wanted to take it back. He wanted to but he didn't say anything to double back.
He wanted to take it back.
Did he want to take it back...? Didn't he want to take it back?
He didn't want to take it back. He stopped shrinking. He knew not what reaction to expect, this was surely a mere result of his restlessness to be taken as such but. He looked to Berserker only through his peripheral vision to gauge the reaction.]
[Edmond grinned, an expression that was bright and warm in the way of a house burning to the ground. His eyes sparked with excitement, that not-quite-catlike quality flickering back to his eyes.]
No, no, Maître, continue! [Halting in his steps, Edmond turned to Takame fully; not obstructing his path, but holding his arms wide as if in invitation.] You are right, exactly so! Our minds, our hearts, these are our dominion and ours alone--none should have the right to command them. None may cage them, none could even were they to try.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[...]
... Tell me all you can of your Noble Phantasm.
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[The smile widened, showing a few too many teeth to be mirthful but without the glittering malice of something truly dangerous--at least, not dangerous to Takame. To say he wasnot dangerous was itself incorrect; everything about him was the personification of a flawlessly honed blade kept safely in its scabbard.]
[For now.]
Monte Cristo Mythologie--the form of the treasure left behind upon that very island. To invoke it is to reclaim it; in a way, 'Edmond Dantès' ceases to exist. Can you surmise, my clever Master, what happens then?
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[For Edmond Dantès to cease to exist, in his place would...
Given the furrow in his brow, the pressing of his lips, Takame had a strong idea. Neither thing was in fear or discomfort at the result or the foreboding smile Berserker gave, quite the opposite even.
But he waited for Berserker to confirm it himself.]
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[If the idea bothered him, it didn't show on his face. Edmond seemed more amused than anything, perhaps even bored by the concept.]
'Farewell to kindness, humanity and gratitude. I have been Heaven's substitute to recompense the good--now the god of vengeance yields to me his power to punish the wicked.' Indeed, 'I' would disappear and in my place would stand that which I became. God's avenging angel himself.
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And is that something that matters to you?
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[He knew exactly why it mattered. Even had an answer to the question that was not a pointed evasion. But it was a conclusion Takame would have to be led to realize on his own.]
I am your Servant. Command me as you please, and I will reclaim that treasure when you deem appropriate.
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[Takame let silence linger between them for a moment. In the long term, it did matter. But for now he simply nodded.]
When the moment comes that you are to reclaim that treasure, let it be final time you are referred to as 'Edmond Dantès'. [Let that accompany the command for Berserker to unleash his power.]
Time will tell when it does.
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[Time, Berserker believed, was a nebulous thing for we Servants. 'Have been', 'am', 'will be', all states with gray areas between them. He may have been but nineteen in body, but his mind harbored memories well beyond those halcyon days in Marseilles. Of course it mattered whether the mortal or the monster was at the forefront, but it was no great and terrible quandary for him to bear.]
I am a weapon at your command; there is no reason to hesitate on my account.
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[Takame let out a huff of breath. Neutral as every word out of his mouth was, but if he were capable it would have come across as a scoff or bitter laugh.
Blades did not need to call upon such emotion. He stood from where he sat, aimlessly going to the window and moving the curtains to look upon the city. He muttered to himself again two sentences, the same one just in both languages he knew.]
A weapon leading a weapon, a blade leading a blade. Such is my designation.
[Designation. Not his name. Indeed, the surname he held not only didn't match that of his "family", but was simply a word for a blade. Even a humorless man like Takame saw it.]
Ironic. [All there was to say on the matter as he continued to look out the window. Close inspection, at least after he let that opinion out, would reveal a focus in his eyes. He was looking for something.]
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[He unfolded gangly legs and all but hopped to his feet, striding over lazily to join Takame at the window.]
I think there is meaning in my coming to you as Dantès, rather than the King of the Cavern. Potential unrealized at a journey's start, the first steps upon a grander and longer path.
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[Barring possessing a specific relic of said hero, but that was irrelevant here. It's at least part of the reason Takame hasn't fought back as much against what Berserker has said.
Habit made him re-do his ponytail as his Servant approached. Always to be kept as such, but also something to do with his hands. All the time he spoke, his eyes did not leave the window. It was known limbal rings for the Au Ra were lost in childhood and mere aesthetic past then. At no point in their preparation did Takame ever put on contacts, but there were very clear rings in his eyes.]
I'm aware of the potential I possess. 'Tis the reason I am the family's soldier in this war. Beyond that... I cannot say for sure. If it is something that you see and I cannot, then I will try to take you at your word.
[Was there a future for him beyond the Grail? He did not know.
"What do you think?"]
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[Hands in his pockets, he shrugged and looked out at the city.]
But should my counsel be taken under advisory, then all the better for both of us.
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[Only the heavens knew what Takame's intentions were. Takame didn't. His intentions were his family's. And never asked theirs.
Never thought to until Berserker--]
...
[His attention locked onto something, though what it was wasn't clear. His gaze didn't move for a long while and the spines on his tail rose. All the while he stood with a neutral expression.]
The sun has yet to set, and still... [He shook his head, this time in clear disapproval.] Another Servant has been summoned.
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[There wasn't doubt in his voice, but genuine fascination.]
However can you be sure?
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[His eyes still didn't leave the window, seeming to focus on the city's outskirts where land was being cleared for development. A part that had yet to be reached to that end.]
For as long as I can remember neither small traces nor massive bursts of magic have ever escaped my sight. All have unique "signatures", in a manner of speaking. As to my certainty that it is a Servant all I can offer as proof is the fact that I've never seen this sort of "signature" before you... and a sensation in my chest.
[A sense to kill. A holder of Mystic Eyes with a sense to kill. It was no wonder this family wanted him alive.]
Undoubtedly, we'll be receiving information from the clan's head soon. And that will be its own sort of proof.
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[Not only Masters and Servants, but the wider circumstances themselves. Showing his Master the truth of the latter would be a challenge, but one easily navigated with some caution. The former...well, truly, that didn't worry him all that much.]
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Failure was not an option, after all.]
It begins here, Berserker.
[Takame's "purpose", his Holy Grail, began here.
Indeed it was late into the night when the confirmation was received through coded message: The last Servant had been summoned, some manner of Rider type as Takame predicted the summoner would blow every cover save for the Servant's true name.
For all intents, the revised plan was as low risk to the clan as possible. Orders given were often for Takame and Berserker to stand down and let the competition pick away at each other. The most he was told to do was venture out with his Servant and observe as his eyes could even pick up on an Assassin-class lurking about with ease. Even Takame himself could take one on with caution.
But every request was shot down. And even met with reprimand that caused him to tense and shrink. Almost every time Takame checked his phone he became stressed. Save for once, a single message signed by one "Kesi Hina" not coded or even relevant to the War. Just well wishes and to expect a nice call soon.
About a day or two passed since the official start but this evening Takame opted to take a walk with his Servant towards the city's outskirts. His tail didn't sway as he walked as much as it jittered in agitation constantly.]
My apologies, I... I'm quite restless, I'll confess.
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[Edmond of all people was one to advocate patience--indeed, in the past days he had muttered some brief phrase in French several times when their orders were issued. But there was, he believed, a line between patience and indolence.]
...If I might speak frankly, Maître?
[He would express his opinion regardless, but the way in which he went about it depended on the response. A gentle tug or a harsh pull to the loose thread; one was needed, but only the one suited to the matter at hand.]
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... You may.
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I will acknowledge that my strength in this form is near nonexistent, and direct confrontation bears risks as a result of that fact. However, to pair that with your unparalleled senses and plan accordingly should be the role of a strategist such as those to whom you answer.
[Sighing, he ran a hand through messy dark hair. This really was vexing beyond measure, but the look he wore was one of no more than light annoyance.]
It is my perspective that they lack the faith in my skills that you bear, and moreover that they regard you as a prettily engraved blade to be kept upon the mantel than a worthy combatant in your own right.
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[Where his tail jittered before it periodically lashed now. By his side his fist clenched, but as ever was his habit he started to re-adjust his hair just to keep his hands busy.
Keep it on clean display.]
Thinking in such a way... is not... [Advised. Not for Takame, Berserker could think in anyway he wished, hence why Takame did not finish that sentence. There was a flash of his fangs as he continued, though trying to keep his blooming frustration out of his tone.]
I... I've spend my life in training for this but they still hesitate and I do not understand why... I've been made to adapt to any manner of Servant Class and yet the one they did not expect, you who I regardless intent to utilize and support, is that which they have no answer for now. [Fear prevents them from controlling this class.]
There is... there is a reason, surely but they won't tell me what it is...!
[He was fighting against the truth in front of his face. Trying to find a justification... there had to be one, there had to be one, there had to be one but...!]
What good is a blade if not to be used in war?
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[He could say he knew quite a bit about both, and those words were very carefully chosen to reflect that. Dishonesty was unbecoming towards one's allies.]
They underestimate me, this I suspect, but to them I am an unknown factor. Strength unmeasured, and thus unable to be controlled.
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[Shit.
Fucking hells, he shook his head and nearly started to shrink into himself.]
I... [He wanted to take it back. He wanted to but he didn't say anything to double back.
He wanted to take it back.
Did he want to take it back...? Didn't he want to take it back?
He didn't want to take it back. He stopped shrinking. He knew not what reaction to expect, this was surely a mere result of his restlessness to be taken as such but. He looked to Berserker only through his peripheral vision to gauge the reaction.]
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No, no, Maître, continue! [Halting in his steps, Edmond turned to Takame fully; not obstructing his path, but holding his arms wide as if in invitation.] You are right, exactly so! Our minds, our hearts, these are our dominion and ours alone--none should have the right to command them. None may cage them, none could even were they to try.
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babe wake up brain rot dropped again
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....... 1/3
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