Ahez
Palais Omnisports de Paris, Bercy, Residential District
@Unoedipal
Beneath her, a body. Upon it she saw the corpse of disaster, the destruction of a potential series of events, carved apart by an unseen blade. That too, she had created.
How many more would refuse to listen to her truth? That change was necessary towards survival? Was it so absurd to consider it?
She would have scoffed, had she any mood left to afford the action. Instead, she merely stared at the body. Young -- older than her, but still young. It didn't take much to be older than her, at a mere ten years of age. But she was always beyond her years.
For the moment, she shared the same perception that everyone held -- a world filtered only through the eyes of man, full of lies and false information. For that moment, she could understand the fear of change. What if it too was a lie? What if their ways truly were the only thing protecting their way of life?
And then she placed the Mystic Code back over her eyes, and her vision of the world became unique once more. The ways of her peers were flawed, stifling the very thing they sought to protect. The system of imposed generational hierarchies stifled the mind of the youthful blood, bringing with it false preconceptions and searing them into the flesh of the structure they had built, branding those within it.
But who was willing to truly fight for something different, something better.
Of course she would.
Her family, so minor, had given life to her. And yet she surpassed so many of blood older than hers, and ages greater. That was a proof, in and of itself. Talent and ingenuity were not something dictated by lineage.
She stepped over the body, and towards her nascent group of followers, appraising her eagerly, watching for any flaw.
She presented none. She smiled, and walked without a stutter in her step or apparent mood. A fortress of mind, willing to do what others would not. To contest those who were perceived as uncontestable, and gather those ungatherable.
Let the change come with her, rather than the change bring her. And what do you know, a few years later she's a pretty big deal. Not the biggest deal, but a fairly sized one.
Chunky. It had only taken a bit of asking to acquire the Omnisports Palace to herself under the guise of a 'private event', which wasn't entirely incorrect. It was indeed private, and it was doubly indeed an event.
And so she went about the business one would conduct in a supposed Holy Grail War. Step one, set up shop with appropriate warning systems and a couple of layers of proximity defences tick. Step two assemble The Dashing Fellows, three chimeras who could serve her in the initial stages of the so-called Holy Grail War. Eagowl Swift, the Prince, and Lil' Beezle would server her well. The former two had already moved on to their respective missions, acting as her eyes on the city and her ears in the walls. Lil' Beezle on the other hand just licked himself at her feet, because he was mostly cat. But he was a good cat-thing, she could tell.
The final preparation was to merely summon a Servant. It did not matter which in her mind. A legend was a legend, and while some were greater than others, many would not cooperate with her particular mindset. So she would fall into the arms of whichever one fate summoned. She summoned blindly, and called upon her blade.
It was something of a good match.
The stage lights focused on her, the rest of the stadium in pure darkness.
And so she began the first dance of the event to her audience of none.
"Un bel dí, vedremo lavarsi un fil de fumo ♪"And so went the song of Madame Butterfly. It is a slow dance, not one intended to be moved to as much as it was listened to. But alas, dance adapts, and so too does she. Even still, she changes the message of the Butterfly, turns the dance into something almost optimistic despite the longing sadness contained within her song. Defiance ran through her being, even translating into something as simple as something like that -- a transforming dance.
She was not the Butterfly. She was not a creature of tragedy, but one of a hopeful future.
To her, she was merely dancing for the fun of it. To the non-existent audience, or any who would observe, she was the sun itself, blinding in her grace. Every movement was a charm.
"But this... is merely the opening act!" she declared to no one, a near ferocious grin on her face, eager for what came next. She reached out with a hand, one leg jutting out behind her into a picture perfect arabesque pose.
"This is not my act alone, no no! You have not come to see I, but the main star."She broke into a spin, her once-pointed out leg coming back in to carry her around. She seamlessly slid to the ground, gesturing out to the darkness of the stage, posed like a helpless maiden despite being anything but.
"Tell me, o star! Do we actors not have feelings to? Are we not people?!" "Does the tragedy we act out not become real? Does the joy we feel not get swept away? Answer me, o star! Answer me, Assassin!"It was going to be a
clown of a time, she could tell.
Abe no Seimei
City of Science & Industry, Parc de la Villete, Canal District
@FroppyThere were many things in life and unlife that the one called 'Seimei' enjoyed. Being doted upon was one of them, no matter what form it happened to take. Indeed, having his hair and ears stroked on a quiet day on the lap of another was certainly among the finer things in life, and it was something he tended to have little difficulty getting out of certain people. It was in his nature to be looked after, and to look after others. It simply could not be helped.
As it was in that moment, his so-called Master had wisely and willingly allowed him to rest his head of fluffy hair upon her legs while she went about the process of winning his favor -- not that she had to work hard for it. Her appearance was none too dissimilar from a spider woman he had once dealt with, and that was a compliment of the highest order. She had died, and he had reveled in her death, but even in that moment he could not fail to acknowledge the unusual beauty of such a thing.
Kurojishi Mirai had the added benefit of not being an actual monster. Maybe one in spirit and mind, but that was merely within the capacity of humanity. It was the kind of monster he could accept. The kind of monster he could foster and protect.
The great sage's ear twitched, a pleased hum coming from his throat, eyes shut.
All the while, his limbs were in action. His feet moved with an uncanny deftness, brushes held between a pair of toes for each foot, trailing black ink into patterns which then completed into blessings of earthly protection and a calling of spirit respectively. One for when they're out and about, the other for Mirai's impressive pet thing.
Well, impressive by her standards. It needed work in his eyes -- everything she had set up did. But such were the limitations of the age, he supposed. He would guide her hand, improve her craft in a way that ensures she retains the knowledge. Although not much of a teacher in any other matter, the area of their shared interest was a different matter.
He would, naturally, improve her pet too. It could be so much more. In the absence of his beloved Commanders, he would have to make a new one. The ground work her family laid allowed for him to potentially reach that height, where he would otherwise be restrained by whatever he had on hand. Indeed, binding it to him would also solve a myriad of issues in regards to power.
But it needed work first. Its spirit needed to be awakened -- and failing that, a new one needed to be created inside of it.
And he was nothing if not an expert when it came to such things.
His free hand paged through his tome, tracing the ancient dried ink within. He knew each line off by heart, so he was mostly using it for referencing. Creating Ofuda came automatically and quickly to him, but he wasn't about to not reference his own work. That'd be a waste.
He opened an eye steadily, looking up at Mirai's face (barely, there was something in the way -- two things), a cheeky little smirk spreading across his contradictory pretty-and-handsome face.
"The benefits of having so many limbs. You can still attend to my comfort while working so diligently. You're an admirable woman, Master," he finished with an almost teasing tone.
"I can only hope to fulfil my role for you, as much of a tricky and useless husband as I may be." He shut his eye again.
Abe no Seimei's thoughts were always preoccupied with people. How to help them, how to exploit them, how to move them forward, how to love them. It was the kind of animal he was.
That had not changed.
The woman before him had forged a contract. As such, his thoughts became focused on her. How to fulfil the role she needed, how to please her and make her happy.
But it was all a selfish love. It was that love that moved him forward in the world, which brought him to the ear of the emperor and the friendship of the Minamoto. But within that love was also necessity, and the understanding of stewardship. Humans could not always see the way forward, so he would push them.
The beast of love. A love that can kill as easily as it can please.
"So, what do you have planned for the evening? This supposed city of love has many sights, I am informed," he not-so-subtly suggested.
He wasn't the stay at home sort of husband.
