(no subject)

[gordianknots]

Who: Avenger, Waver, Saber, Bazett
When: 26 Jan
Where: Along the castle
What: Avenger has half of his powers back, everything is awful.
Warnings: Violence, loss of autonomy

[Waver had walked away from the fight at the castle. He had only dared to go near it when his circuits cleared some - the first time in months

Once there, he had found his suit folded neatly in a chest, alongside his beloved red coat, and yellow scarf. Putting them back on felt more powerful than having his magecraft back. He was himself again, for the first time in months. Not entirely, there were little naggling things in his head, but he'd take what he could get.

He fiddles with his scarf as he leaves the building again, taking no time to explore. His patience is still too thin, overriding curiosity. He can head back to his house and see what his limits are.]

Comments

[destructiveprinciples]

[ Avenger's patient. He doesn't want other people here, but if Waver shuts up and does nothing, the urge to harm him like he wants to harm most humans can be curbed for a bit. The dark muck covering the floor doesn't seeped towards the doorway yet.

The tendrils of darkness drip down from the ceiling. Drip, drip, drip.

After awhile; ]

There's only one Servant on this island besides me.

[ ...

That wasn't a question. ]

[gordianknots]

[Waver only nods. There's no point in lying about that, especially since he doesn't know if Avenger and Saber have interacted before. Saying no could be even more of a problem.

The dripping is like watching a wax house melt.]

[destructiveprinciples]

Saber possesses an anti-fortress Noble Phantasm. I'm guessing she can't use it to its full extent right now, huh.

[ Avenger muses idly, for a moment wandering off topic to think. Saber's at half power too and that holy sword uses up a lot of energy.

It's dark inside the storehouse. Outside, all the visible patches of bare land have been covered up by the black mud. The edges of the mud don't extent into the forest, instead pooling around the small building. He rests his lower jaw on one hand.

He smiles. It's not a kind smile. ]

Didn't you say it yourself, Waver? You destroyed the Grail once. [ Avenger's paranoid. He's something that should be destroyed after all, he knows that well enough himself. So; ] I'm guessing you aren't adverse to making an second try of it here.

[gordianknots]

Circumstances really aren't in my favour, are they? I don't have access to a third of the people that helped, and there's no denying I'm an ineffective magus on my best days.

[Waver has no idea where Saber is, why she's taking so long, or even if Excalibur can stand up to this mud. He's still not touching any of it, but only barely. That's not a comfort, that means the agony is being drawn out.]

[destructiveprinciples]

Nope, they sure ain't.

[ Something in the storehouse creaks slightly. Avenger regards Waver, still with that unpleasant smile on his face. ] Well, that's awfully convenient. Hmm.

[ For the Servant, that is. ]

[gordianknots]

[Waver doesn't dare try to place where that creak came from. Maybe the roof?

Not important. Whatever comes next is.]

[destructiveprinciples]

[ The Servant dematerializes, vanishing from the spot where he had been seated on the stone floor.

And before Waver even has the time necessary to process what just happened, there are two hands craved with curses pressing against his back and shoving him right over into the mud surrounding him. ]

You expressed a wish to learn more 'bout the workings of the Grail. I never got around to taking ya' up on that, did I? [ Not that Waver will be fit to answer.

Because it will feel like his brain is currently exploding and his skin is melting off. ]

Don't take too long now.

[ In a rational person's mind, the train of logically protecting themselves by making a strong point does not immediately arrive at murder station, and make a stop to kill somebody at the drop of a hat.

But Avenger is not rational, he's feeling a weird mixture of cocky and threatened, and it's not like the death will stick for more than a day. So it seems like a reasonable action to take. ]

[gordianknots]

[There are two thoughts Waver manages to have before the mud washes over him entirely. The first is that the stuff feels like being forced into a pool of warm vomit. The second is that he is definitely going to die - if not from Avenger, then from suffocation.

Which, some tiny, clinging, rational part of him adds would be preferable to being awash and drowning in this, this.

There's no words for this. It is every emotion Waver's had about Clock Tower taking to the extremes, every niggling self doubt, every murmur of corruption, every news broadcast, anything, everything, that could be constructed as negative, turned to the highest setting. This was in the Grail.

The attempt to cling to words - even vague ones like this - fails, after a few precious minutes of trying. Or seconds. Whatever, there's no sense of time here. That or too much of Waver has slipped away.

Could be either, could be neither, and that disappears too.]

1/2

[destructiveprinciples]

[ DIE DIE DIE

this is nonsensical and maddened, it's full of pain and hatred that overrides everything else with condemnations of dirtiness and crimes, it squeezes, wraps tightly, digests what was once Waver and devours him whole and it hurts it hurts it hurts

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

it burns, it's lonely, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts its existence hurt, existing hurt, it hated it hated it hated it hated. The negativity, the happiness, the sorrow, the humans, the sinners, the saints, the lovers, the murderers, the scholars, it hated them all this is misery, and, fear and vice and centuries of war in the name of men this is greed and false statement, and theft, and robbery this is rape and arson and bombing for sport

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

existence is pain, is toil, is hatred, is vanity, is disgusting, is selfishness, is bitter, is hunger, is cold, is misery, is filthy, is desolate agony that had no beginning and will have no ending even when the sun goes out and all the world is drenched in darkness and will continue even past that as long as a whisper of the world of man endures

the voices scream it hates; its own ugliness, its rotten state, its dirtiness, its vileness it was evil dirty laughable horrid vile rotten putrid it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it wants the humans to die die die

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

there is nothing but blood and rot and ugliness and tiny pointless decaying creatures that have no purpose but to expire unhappily. there is no hope and there will be no respite. there can be no atonement for crimes, there are only those who must bear the punishment for all so others may be happy in their place. the voice are screaming. there are penalties for living that must be paid, life penalty, death penalty, crime penalty, greedy penalty, incorrect penalty, this must be done IT IS DONE

but still it demanded atonement atone atone atone atone for self atone atone for self atone for self atone for self atone for self atone for self

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

There were no words for it, this hell

DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

It crushes any chance of individual thought. ]

2/2

[destructiveprinciples]

[ It was a folktale that protected the magus from being devoured in seconds (minutes? hours? years? it was impossible to tell, there is no sense of time here);

The Devil cannot kill Waver of Kent, in a way.

Eventually, he'll realize he's lost somewhere somewhere that's pitch-black and he neither see or hear anything. The darkness presses heavily onto him, incomprendable faint mutters of the voices keening for atonement and respite. Crying, wailing, the taint eating away at him.

It seemed like—like seemed to be a world filled with anger, chaos and hate. ]

HOW DO ALTERS WORK we just don't know

[gordianknots]

[Small wonder that the mythology of Waver's denizen has any impact at all.

Or that it's even an advantage. Because what doesn't kill is absorbed, processed. The mud mixes with Waver's circuits, becoming a natural part of them, and soon enough, a gasp for air. Fingers curl, now unaffected by the mud underneath them.]

it is a mystery

[destructiveprinciple]

[ A bare foot kicks and rolls him over, still coated with mud. Waver is half-sanken into the pool of blackness. Everything overhead is probably blurry to Waver, vague blots of color and light that slowly sharpen back into focus. His throat will feel like its burning, and his clothes too feel strange.

After a pause; ]

...—You're not dead. [ There's an edge of frustration and confusion to those words.

Whatever just happened soul badtouching, this is clearly not the end result that Avenger was aiming for. ]

[gordianknots]

[Waver manages a nod, but he doesn't get up.

The process translated many things. There's prana in his veins now, paths of it traced in bright red lines on his skin, starting at the top of his neck and flowing downward, like veins. His suit is still black, but coat no longer the brilliant red of Rider. It is a dull purple not unlike a certain priest, and his scarf matches the suit.

He doesn't try to speak, not yet. It wouldn't be anything more articulate than a scream anyway.]

[destructiveprinciple]

[ Avenger leans over Waver, spread out flat on the ground and stares down at him wordlessly, brows furrowed for a long moment of silence, save for Waver's harsh breathing. The magus had been inside the black for roughly seven or eight minutes, to his estimation. ]

That... shouldn't be possible, you're not...— [ He straightens up, frowning and removes his foot from Waver. Then: he freezes up, fists clenching together slightly, not that's really noticeable to the mud-drenched magus.

Avenger remembers what Bazett specifically told him not to do. Killing Waver? Not that big of a deal. It wouldn't last more than a day. He'd figured the trauma combined with the magus' pride would prevent him from blabbing about it to anybody, and ward him off attacking Avenger. Two birds with one stone, see? He could cover it up.

But this? This isn't good because—oh, for fuck's sake. ]

[untilavalon]

[For fuck's sake, the cavalry has arrived.

She sees the mud all around, inky and slick and she has to pause. She has never seen this before, but it's clear that it is no good.

This is where Waver contacted her, but--]

Waver?! Waver! Where are you!?

[destructiveprinciple]

[ Avenger spins around at the sound of Saber calling out, muffled by the walls of the building but still understandable.

—Saber. The magus must... have contacted her before he walked into the storehouse, ugh. B|

He grimaces and turns to glance down at Waver. ]

Hey, get up. [ A beat. More forcibly: ] I said, get up!

[gordianknots]

---.

[To that, Waver reacts. His movements are hardly fluid, but he stands, although his eyes never meet Avenger's. They're fixed in the distance, like Avenger isn't even there.]

[untilavalon]

Waver! [She calls again, more forcefully this time-- before hearing something, not very loud, toward the muddied storagehouse.]

Avenger! I know you're here!

[She musn't risk using her noble phantasm if she can avoid it. If Waver is inside, the fantasm could harm him as well.]

[destructiveprinciple]

[ ...

Aw man, did he break Bazett's lord? He did, didn't he. That's... bad because she's going to be infuriated and she's going to yell at him and punch things—and she isn't going to forgive this mishap, is she. There's no way she will. And if his Master doesn't do that, then what's the point? Trapped, frustration, ugh. >:c

Might as well use what he's seemingly acquired. Avenger jerks his thumb at the door. ]

There's a lady out there who wants to see ya'. Get movin'.

[gordianknots]

[And with that, Waver moves. The motion's fluidity returns as he walks, although the first few steps that Saber sees will likely be familiar from the last time she had to face a man wearing grey-purple.

But getting moving is only one thing, and there's no sign of a threat. Yet.]

[untilavalon]

[Those steps are familiar-- but in a way she doesn't want them to be. She keeps her guard up, frowning.

Something isn't right. Why isn't Avenger making a show of this? He'd certainly seemed the type. Perhaps she'd assumed too much, but Waver's clothing is also strange.

This isn't right.]

...Waver?

[gordianknots]

[Waver stands still, only his eyes - now golden or hazel depending on the light, not their usual green - flick, resting on Saber.]

[untilavalon]

[Something is very, very wrong.]

Waver...

[Frustrated, she calls out.] Avenger! What have you done?!

[destructiveprinciple]

[ He appeared on the roof, staring down at Waver's still figure and Saber standing at the ready in front of him. Alright, one, two, three. Deep breath. You can do this, easy as pie, Avenger.

/douches hard at her ]

Wellll...

[untilavalon]

You would do well to answer me, Avenger.

[Her tone is downright icy.]

What have you done to Waver Velvet.