...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.
I would say once more that if you would ask me such a question, I bid you seek the answer in your own heart. Are you? This is not something for which I can speak on your behalf, Takame.
[He tilted his head, smile lessening as a conflagration lessened to merely an inferno.]
Do you think it would be better were you not to return to them? The power to do so is within your reach, should you deem it necessary to take in hand.
[Is he? He's trained for this war all his life to be thrown as far away as possible, is he? His eyes have seen all, protected from assassins or other threats to their clan only to be scolded for not finding them fast enough, is it? The one woman kind to him was tossed aside as nothing and called viator for her was circuits, is he? He's being forced to stand aside in the midst of his purpose's beginning, denied of the very reason he lives: to fight all out of fear that Takame brought about someone who could not be controlled by them
is he?
His magic circuits are leagues beyond what this clan could muster in generations and use his actions as credit to continue their line while he in two decades has never earned an advanced title or even the family name.
Is he being caged? Is he being chained by what he owes them? Does he owe them?
"What do you think?"]
... [Without another word Takame simply pulled his phone from his pocket. On the other end was the angry voice of the clan's head to which Takame asked one thing, coldly:]
What is your intent should you claim the Holy Grail?
[Loud and clear on the other line, Takame was screamed and cursed at to mind his place lest he go the route that accursed viator did.
The last thing heard was "Do I make myself clear?" from the head as Takame ended the correspondence abruptly.]
The plans have changed. [And as he looked to his Servant again, direct and intentional, came that brief fire seen the day he was summoned.
All that a wildfire needed to start was a little flint.]
We seek the other Servants out ourselves. Those fool enough to challenge us eliminated.
As the numbers dwindle the clan will find us themselves. They will not stand for their calls being ignored.
'Tis then I will show them the mistake they have made with me. [Takame wouldn't return to them as a member of their clan. No, he never was a member of their clan in the first place was he? Something else to ask before he makes them regret ever imprisoning him.]
[Something akin to pride flickered across those demonic eyes like a spark popping from the white-hot flames in his smile. Unveiled rebellion, and so soon. Berserker had expected Takame to be more difficult to guide than this, and yet...no, perhaps he had been right and the man before him truly was more like the young Edmond than first assumed.]
Good.
[This was a much better look for his Master--his accomplice, perhaps. Burning with anger and rebellion, with the flame of vengeance kindled bright in his chest.]
It will be my pleasure to serve at your command and lay waste to all that would block our path. To us shall belongeth Vengeance, and I shall guide you on that path without hesitation.
[Perhaps he should have been more difficult. But the reality was the way he was raised severely backfired on his "family". To listen to all word and not question, yet to be actually asked questions by Berserker while he already felt near the end of his rope.
Perhaps he would have been more difficult had it not been for an interesting little novel a certain young "viator" woman gifted him before her departure from the clan and the country.]
Then I place my trust in you to be my guide. Show me your path beyond love and hate if at the end lies the "victory" that is sought.
[For a split moment, Takame's eyes darted to a presence in the distance. It was faint, barely visible. Which to him said everything. For nothing to his eyes would ever be faint unless intentionally concealing themselves.]
As you wish. Then let us be off without delay--lead as your gaze is drawn, and I shall follow. Command me to fight, kill, shed my name if that should be your will--let us shatter the path before us to build a new one.
[It's quite the staggering shift, really. To see the soft-spoken Takame lock onto a target with pin point precision, hover over them like a starved predator and go in for the kill as he did.
Some manner of Assassin had spotted them, foolishly having their Master close by. Both weaklings that had more bark than bite and knew Takame's "family" well as overly cautious cowards and heckled them for it.
Imagine their shock when Takame snapped the Master's arm in half like a twig in the midst of the taunts. He had no patience for the words of someone who thought themselves superior solely from their bloodline. Who did not know a day of work or training in their life.
They were not a threat to Takame or his Berserker, there was no need for him to retrieve that treasure... yet. It was now deep into the night about a day later. Takame had returned to their previously established lodgings just to retrieve the bare minimum of what Takame needed and leave stay elsewhere. Away from his "family"'s affiliation, some modestly priced hotel. Takame was still awake extremely late, unable to sleep and seeking something to do to quell a growing anxiety. His eyes were glued to the window again but they'd occasionally dart to his phone and his tail would twitch.]
... They act cautiously as ever. [His clan. Former clan, perhaps. He spoke knowing Berserker was always present, even if not visible.]
[It was quite the fascinating situation Berserker had found himself summoned into. And he did, truthfully, believe there was reason behind it. The hand of God was inscrutable, and yet Edmond Dantès truly believed His work was clear to those who witnessed it. He was meant to cross what laid beyond love and hate to meet this boy, to guide him as Dantès himself had once found guidance out of the blind foolishness of childhood naïveté.]
[His Master struck, Assassin responded--and met a bullet in the shin for his trouble. Ah, even at his weakest a blunt Berserker could manage to cut through the subterfuge of a mere Assassin. Not that it was necessary for how easily the pair was dispatched.]
[Good. A bit of bloodlust would do him well, so long as it was something felt for himself rather than demanded on another's behalf.]
Does that bother you, Maître? [He manifested from spirit form as he spoke; the picture of casual calm, lying on the bed with his arms folded behind his head.
[Bloodlust was certainly on display during that encounter entirely belonging to Takame. Perhaps the first thing he's felt on his own in a very long time. He couldn't deny the catharsis he felt, the desire to carve into his enemies that have hurt him. It was still muted, though. A controlled flame. Much like his standard demeanor.
A heart repressed and abused for two decades led to this sort of man who struggled to emote. Those abusers still left scars on his mind, keeping him from sleeping and his eyes outside. Or to his phone that he looked at for the fifth time in less than 15 minutes. His tail thumped the wall to his side once.]
I think that it does. [He had trouble identifying his emotions on a good day, this was a step in the right direction.] They've never taken kindly to defiance and ever sought to use either their hired guard or me to quell it and make themselves known as a powerful clan. I do not know why they hesitate in doing so now when I've no intention to hand the Grail over to them.
[Berserker yawned, turning over to look at Takame fully with his head propped up on one hand. It was nice to see some real life in him, but there was still more beneath the surface--that tail certainly seemed to think so.]
If I might venture a guess...perhaps their attack dog breaking free of its chain proved an unexpected setback. One they either fear to contend with, or disregard as no more than an escaped stray.
Mm... There is no other person in the clan able to contend with me as a mage. It is more possible they are planning their next move than that they see my disobedience as naught to be minded... they would never accept such a slight against their pride.
[Another tail thump and a glance at his phone. Add the drumming of his fingers against the windowsill to his tells all the while there wasn't a single hint of anxiety in his tone or expression.]
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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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Minds and hearts are their own dominion, were they? To be caged by no one.
Was he...]
Berserker... am I...
Am I being caged?
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[He tilted his head, smile lessening as a conflagration lessened to merely an inferno.]
Do you think it would be better were you not to return to them? The power to do so is within your reach, should you deem it necessary to take in hand.
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is he?
His magic circuits are leagues beyond what this clan could muster in generations and use his actions as credit to continue their line while he in two decades has never earned an advanced title or even the family name.
Is he being caged? Is he being chained by what he owes them? Does he owe them?
"What do you think?"]
... [Without another word Takame simply pulled his phone from his pocket. On the other end was the angry voice of the clan's head to which Takame asked one thing, coldly:]
What is your intent should you claim the Holy Grail?
[Loud and clear on the other line, Takame was screamed and cursed at to mind his place lest he go the route that accursed viator did.
The last thing heard was "Do I make myself clear?" from the head as Takame ended the correspondence abruptly.]
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All that a wildfire needed to start was a little flint.]
We seek the other Servants out ourselves. Those fool enough to challenge us eliminated.
As the numbers dwindle the clan will find us themselves. They will not stand for their calls being ignored.
'Tis then I will show them the mistake they have made with me. [Takame wouldn't return to them as a member of their clan. No, he never was a member of their clan in the first place was he? Something else to ask before he makes them regret ever imprisoning him.]
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Good.
[This was a much better look for his Master--his accomplice, perhaps. Burning with anger and rebellion, with the flame of vengeance kindled bright in his chest.]
It will be my pleasure to serve at your command and lay waste to all that would block our path. To us shall belongeth Vengeance, and I shall guide you on that path without hesitation.
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Perhaps he would have been more difficult had it not been for an interesting little novel a certain young "viator" woman gifted him before her departure from the clan and the country.]
Then I place my trust in you to be my guide. Show me your path beyond love and hate if at the end lies the "victory" that is sought.
[For a split moment, Takame's eyes darted to a presence in the distance. It was faint, barely visible. Which to him said everything. For nothing to his eyes would ever be faint unless intentionally concealing themselves.]
There are eyes on us already.
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[Such was the safe assumption more often than not; in the Holy Grail War, one needed their head on a swivel and caution that exceeded even paranoia.]
And what would you have us do about that?
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We do as weapons do. [Destroy.]
Let them come. I'll confess that I wish to be rid of this restlessness within me.
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babe wake up brain rot dropped again
Some manner of Assassin had spotted them, foolishly having their Master close by. Both weaklings that had more bark than bite and knew Takame's "family" well as overly cautious cowards and heckled them for it.
Imagine their shock when Takame snapped the Master's arm in half like a twig in the midst of the taunts. He had no patience for the words of someone who thought themselves superior solely from their bloodline. Who did not know a day of work or training in their life.
They were not a threat to Takame or his Berserker, there was no need for him to retrieve that treasure... yet. It was now deep into the night about a day later. Takame had returned to their previously established lodgings just to retrieve the bare minimum of what Takame needed and leave stay elsewhere. Away from his "family"'s affiliation, some modestly priced hotel. Takame was still awake extremely late, unable to sleep and seeking something to do to quell a growing anxiety. His eyes were glued to the window again but they'd occasionally dart to his phone and his tail would twitch.]
... They act cautiously as ever. [His clan. Former clan, perhaps. He spoke knowing Berserker was always present, even if not visible.]
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[His Master struck, Assassin responded--and met a bullet in the shin for his trouble. Ah, even at his weakest a blunt Berserker could manage to cut through the subterfuge of a mere Assassin. Not that it was necessary for how easily the pair was dispatched.]
[Good. A bit of bloodlust would do him well, so long as it was something felt for himself rather than demanded on another's behalf.]
Does that bother you, Maître? [He manifested from spirit form as he spoke; the picture of casual calm, lying on the bed with his arms folded behind his head.
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A heart repressed and abused for two decades led to this sort of man who struggled to emote. Those abusers still left scars on his mind, keeping him from sleeping and his eyes outside. Or to his phone that he looked at for the fifth time in less than 15 minutes. His tail thumped the wall to his side once.]
I think that it does. [He had trouble identifying his emotions on a good day, this was a step in the right direction.] They've never taken kindly to defiance and ever sought to use either their hired guard or me to quell it and make themselves known as a powerful clan. I do not know why they hesitate in doing so now when I've no intention to hand the Grail over to them.
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If I might venture a guess...perhaps their attack dog breaking free of its chain proved an unexpected setback. One they either fear to contend with, or disregard as no more than an escaped stray.
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[Another tail thump and a glance at his phone. Add the drumming of his fingers against the windowsill to his tells all the while there wasn't a single hint of anxiety in his tone or expression.]
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[said local Berserker, stating the obvious.]
Would you prefer to be on the offense tonight?
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