☆ Event: A Tale of Two Cities

[faileas]

Event Log: September, A Tale of Two Cities

I. THE TRIP OUT On Septeril 5th, those who've agreed to go as dignitaries to Dorchacht will meet with Nerissa Bell in the Coven's foyer. Given the group is a little large, and the boat they've procured for the voyage would be a little crowded with all of them on it, she suggests there be two groups: the first one will go now and will return around the middle of the month, while the second will depart a few days after the first group returns, just to give them some breathing room. a. DIGNITARY: THE SHIP Those joining Nessie are led to the docks, where an old ship is being scrapped down, barnacles removed and hull shined to perfection. Sailors call to and fro from on board, buckets of water thrown off the side away from the docks and there's a tingle of nervous excitement from the gathering crowds come to wish the dignitaries and ambassadors a bon voyage. She's of a medium size, able to hold her crew and half of the assigned dignitaries with little trouble, and from top to bottom the moose-like Faun of a captain calls her a seaborn miracle; short of a sea wyrm, she's never faltered nor fled the waves, but he'll admit that she's been more a fishing boat than anything the past couple years. Judging from the way his tuffed tail lashes in excitement, he's thrilled to be out on a real voyage again -- even if it's to those notoriously unfriendly blokes 'round the corner of the map, haven't been in decades time and they've always been up their own arses about this and that. While dignitaries are supposed to relax the best they can on the four day trip, the captain doesn't seem to mind offering work to those interested in learning the way of the sea or with the know-how already, eagerly asking the Mirrorbound about their experiences beyond the glass... much more than he is about talking about himself outside of his ship, who he loves a great deal and sings the praises of up and down the hour, through sea shanty and spoken word. His large antlers don't seem to get in the way of his work nor bar him from getting in and out his quarters, but watch out! They are large and they do hurt. All's not well going to and from Dorchacht, though, as while the waters are safer than the land by far, there's plenty of dangers within the deep: Infected Merrow swim in the shallows, singing sweetly from rocks that jut out at the shore, and some more adventurous ones try their luck closer to the boat too. The captain's Navigator, a Witch with just as rowdy an attitude if more polite a tone, can manage a deafening spell on the ship to keep any from falling seaward, but asks that those who can to rid the ship of those terrible pests, whether by cannon, magic, or something else similarly ranged. Oh, it'd be perfectly alright if they killed them, plenty of them out here in the sea and growing ever more, but if they simply want to scare them off then by all means! There's also all manner of sea beasts as well, from krakens on the smaller side to the mentioned sea wyrms earlier, though the captain'll say that they're just babies compared to the mother he'd faced last year -- still troublesome little bastards, best put down before they're drowned themselves, but nothing to turn tail at. Outside of these... troubles... there's disorderly sailors of Monster and Witch alike, the former being compromised primarily of Turnskin and Faun for heavy lifting, with a Harpy in the crow's nest to help with speed, and the latter being those specializing in Divination and Astrology for directions, as well as some elemental manipulation from the Evocation course. Unlike the proper Coven trained, they seem like they're a little more unconventional with their magics, using "shortcuts" and combining spells to great effect. When they're not on the clock as it were they enjoy a great deal of ale, howling stories and song, pushing each other around whilst the journey's bright and startlingly serious when things turn south. Be careful you don't get in a fight, or perhaps you'd like to show your stuff in a little competition: They're willing to do anything to pass the time. b. ESPIONAGE: THE DEVICE Upon hearing that there are some who would be interested in investigating the device that Mhairi mentioned, a young Witch opens up the room it's being stored in now to allow them a chance to check it out. They warn that it isn't particularly cooperative, but maybe those with some knowledge of magitech - or their world's equivalent - might be able to help? While not exactly the largest device around, it's one that stands out. Something resembling a Tesla coil stands atop the piece of tech, tall enough to almost reach the ceiling of the rather tall room, and various dials and knobs and gauges adorn the outside of it. Those who are perceptive to magic - training in detection spells, or who have a good sense for it, or even a sixth sense for something poised to happen - will be able to note that there's a sort of... presence in the room. It continues to build up, the more people that come in to investigate. Anyone that tinkers with it, has active magitech on their person, or even uses magic in it, only help to build the sensation. And then, when enough Mirrorbound of both the Witch and Monster persuasion are in the room - A whirring noise fills the room, as the device comes to life. There isn't any time to vacate the room, because whether it was an intentional thing to activate the teleporter or not, it's activated. The intention of using it for travel to Dorchacht remains embedded in it, and from one moment to the next, the group in the room find themselves not in the Coven, but in the midst of trees. All around you is the forest just beneath the cliffs outside of Dorchacht. In the distance, if one looks hard enough, they might be able to spot the Black City itself. Besides the storage room of the Coven vanishing in a flash of light and electricity, the device is absent, too. Some of its smaller parts can be found scattered in the craggy grass at your feet, in the roots of trees, as if it completely fell apart the moment that the magic was activated. Whatever you had on your person, when you left? It's all that you have, now. And there's no way back from here. (Notes: Some small reminders - the boats take 2 days to reach Dorchacht, meaning they take 2 days to come back as well, and the teleportation device used by the espionage team is a one-time use only. The espionage team will be able to return to Aefenglom at the end of the month courtesy of some inside help, using a similar device that managed to bring them there in the first place. The Watches can be used on the ship, but are prone to static and dropping calls. Communication is possible from Dorchacht, though voice and video both feel a little muffled.)

II. DORCHACHT It's déjà vu. While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Those from Aefenglom may recognize familiar faces, and they might find themselves looking twice at you, as if some part of them remembers you as well. Something seems... off, however. There are fewer Monsters in the streets than there were in the dream, though it isn't too hard to catch a glimpse of one here and there. The streets even seem a little more cleaned up than they once were, as one makes their way down them. At the heart of the city, dignitaries will be brought to the Coven. There, they're greeted by a slender and elegant woman, eyes bright and clever, but just as sharp as the red-lined smile that she offers her visitors. "Nerissa Bell," she begins, tone polite if clipped. There's the sense of a woman who won't waste words from her person, and she turns her eyes towards the dignitaries. "You must be the charges she spoke of. Mirrorbound, they call you?" A shallow inclination of her head, barely called respectful, as she smiles wider, in a way that would be kind if knives were made to be dull. "A pleasure. I am Morgana Drummond, head of the Coven here, and I welcome you to my city of Dorchacht, the safest haven against the Cwyld across all of our poor Geardagas." a. THE COVEN Morgana Drummond gives them a quick tour of their facilities, speaking lightly of the curriculum they have here that differs from Aefenglom's own (more of a focus in manipulation spells, be it the sort of commands that have become such a familiar sight to things such as perception and "paths" that can be seen through scrying, the other areas of practice more of "extra" than essentials) as well as allowing them to peek in on some lessons taking place. They won't be able to interact, but it is admittedly of a higher feel than what Aefenglom asks, though it's simply the seriousness of the atmosphere giving that impression. After showing them to where they'll be staying within the Coven's hospitality as well as mentioning the areas of their infirmary, library, and welcoming the Witches to try a hand at their lessons, she and Nerissa part from the characters as a whole to discuss the business of the month. There is a notable increase in guards, both around Morgana's person even within the Coven's walls, as well as the building itself. They seem to be in the business of keeping people on a kind of "railroaded" layout of the Coven building, but can be distracted for a quick peek -- the real help comes from those with triple stars hidden in plain sight, beneath the brims of hats and worn as idly jewelry and easily missed charms. These sympathizers will actively seek those out to speak with them, to let them know that even here there are those that would like to see change brought to Dorchacht, and assist in entering places that Mirrorbound otherwise would not be able to enter. Such as the library here, which contain higher level spells including the enchantments specific to the city walls. The history is just as muddled as it is in the later mentioned public library, the "when"s being vague and the like, but depicts Drummond's rise as the head of the Coven: She came to Dorchacht on a ship hailing from Aefenglom along with a number of other Witches and rose above the rest to become the esteemed leader she is now. Without her, many of the text will agree, Dorchacht would not be as it is now. Those with any notable signs of infection may be asked to step aside and allow Dorchacht's Witches to give them a check up -- better safe than sorry -- and this goes for Witches and Monsters alike. They'll be brought to the double doors that were so heavily secure within the dream, whether they'd like to be or not, and escorted inside. b. THE CITY Unlike the dream, things seem to be more... well-behaved. Auctions have been moved from the pavilion and in its place are genuine vendors to purchase from: Food, clothing, toys, trinkets, protective spell scrolls, all manners of things. There's still Monsters around, a little more tidy than before, but they hold the same stares they had in the dream, pinched expression and disinterested in conversation. There are signs that lead way to auctions if one is truly curious to see the extent of that terror, to gain insight on the situation there, but tailing someone might be hard within the twisting turns of the new bazaar. Another notable part of the city that can be accessed by those dealing in espionage include the barracks if they pose as hopefuls to join their ranks as handlers for their Monsters, which are collared in a familiar way to the dream, and seem reactionary to quick movements -- they're explained to be the essential frontline of what constitutes as a military force, very important, Mirrorbound Monsters beware you not suffer the same fate. The next place one might seek out is the library: While this is all deemed public knowledge, it offers insight into the kind of history and mindset that's been bred the past decade at minimum. Books regarding the dangers of Monsters, how to care and train them, practical spellbooks for those untrained by the Coven proper... The history books themselves are vague in regards to the "when" of things, and seem to be more contemporary in comparison to how old the city feels itself. There's a variety of more cultural knowledge such a cookbooks (including those dealing with monster parts) and floriography (more dour meanings compared to Aefenglom's flurous), but the relevant ones have been noted thusly. c. THE RESISTANCE Whether you're espionage or dignitary, those seeking the Resistance know what to look for: a trio of stars (some worn more openly than others), protests against the city's treatment of Monsters, and dispelling runes on the walls. Once proven that you're friend over foe, they're more than happy to have the assistance of any Mirrorbound in their company: A fight against the current practices is a fight they're for, after all. Riot! Disrupt the peace! The auctions, while a little more downplayed than in the dream, are still going, and the Resistance has good word on where they're being held in the grand city. Their goal? To cause a disturbance big enough to distract, but not big enough to catch Drummond's eye... that said, with her having to play the nice host to Aefenglom's associates within the main building, there's more to get away with. Free the Monsters! Whilst distracted, other members of the Resistance plan to dispel the runes in certain areas and smuggle off what Monsters they can, valuing quantity over quality. While the more mind-broken may resist heavily, it won't be hard to find Monsters of all kinds (save Dragons and Fae, which are notably absent from the auctions and city in general) accepting help to escape, eager to think for themselves once more. Find a way for them to escape the city safely, but know that the docks are heavily guarded in case of stowaways. Free the city! Kind of. A third party of Resistance members are looking to weaken the enchantment on the wall of Dorchacht itself, meaning they'll be looking for those brave enough to tread outside the city and into the Wilde just beyond its protective gates to take a look at and inscribe runes to hopefully diminish the compulsion in place right now. It won't be immediate, but it'll help in the future... just be careful, there's plenty of danger beyond the wall to contend with. As an interesting note, while the Resistances' bonded pairs are definitely unlike Dorchacht's compulsion-based ones, they're not exactly like Aefenglom's either: They call themselves comrades and partners, brothers/sisters in arms, giving it more of an equality forged from the same brass than something to do with convenience. (Notes: Those being willing, or unwilling, participants in the check-ups may reply to the top level there with how visibly infected they are for a special treat! Only for this month.)

III. AEFENGLOM Preparations for Meán Fómhair begin before Nerissa and the dignitaries head off on the 5th, but they seem a little quick even for the ever-festive people of Aefenglom: Apples begin the appear in great quantities to be used for later, some yellowed versus the red ripeness one thinks of when they're ready, there's hay bales tucked safely away for the days of, and there's little conversation to be made save for how things might be going in Dorchacht, though if any of the Mirrorbound try to join in they'll change the subject to Meán Fómhair in a split second, smiles thrown wider than the weeks before. Seems all is not quite as well as they'd like to appear. a. MARKET UP With the Parliament tense and looking westward, there starts to be gradual, but steady, increases in new appearances from some interesting individuals about the city. At face value they're no different than the vendors already found in great quantities, human and Monster alike, but one look at their wares proves different. The goblin market, as it's familiarly called, is somewhat accepted by the Parliament as something allowed to exist as part of their mercantile culture with Coven-approved medicines, alchemical practices, enchantments, so on and so forth, and only somewhat thanks to these known wares. Beneath these, with a dropped word or a curious eye, one can find things that are more than likely not sanctioned by either branch, things the vendors say can sate Monster and Witch alike without need of a Bond, though they decline to include the fact that such things are only temporary and that, like all hits, they'll need to come back for a greater quantity to get the satisfaction they need. Overpriced as they are (due to their private nature, it's high risk, surely they understand), they sell Monster parts of most kinds, Witch's Blood that may or may not be genuine, and what they call "extra strength" potions to mimic the feeling of a temporary bond without needing a second person to partake -- of course, you're welcome to share it, the more the merrier. However, this market hides a darker side, known more to those living among the aristocracy or who have the money and means to it, and characters are more likely to find themselves led there one way or another -- be it kidnapped or tricked, the black market isn't picky about how they drag their targets in. While Aefenglom prides itself in its fairness and equality, as in example with the goblin market not all is what it promises. Nowhere else is this more true than with the black market itself, using techniques familiar in Dorchacht to control their living wares, emboldened by the absence and turned heads of the government while remaining as discreet as they can be, they've ascended from the tunnels beneath Aefenglom to turn old houses into private auctions and the more deserted streets into bazaar-like adventures. Not all of these are unwilling wares, characters may find, and drawn by necessity for their own well-being or for their family's, but it's clear that a greater number are those from the Outer City. b. PROPAVANDALS Unbeknownst to Aefenglom's higher ups, Dorchacht has sympathizers of its own within this city's walls. While Bonds haven't been specifically dissuaded against, given that there's alternatives to the more permanent tethers, not all are in favor of changing completely. It's been ten years since Miss Bell gained her seating, such citizens'll say, and there's been decades prior where they hadn't needed that. That Monsterkind and Witches could be, and sometimes were better off, apart. Home remedies and extra practice, or finding a substitute, was all that was needed. More privately and growing in whispered popularity, that there ought to be more restrictions on the two in general. Once these words have started, both conversations planted as well as encouraged for thoughts already leaning a certain way, small attacks on those Bonded being to occur. They target the main populace and those with connections to the Coven itself, especially the Mirrorbound given Nerissa's alleged responsibility to them, and it seems they're well-practiced in hiding their activities because all investigations done towards the perpetrators, whether done by the Mirrorbound or officials themselves, will lead to only dead-ends outside the City. The culprits are hard to catch on foot, using the environment they'd grown up with to their advantage in escaping any manner of way -- it isn't just humans, but Monsters causing trouble as well -- but it isn't impossible... Just that they refuse anything but their right of silence on the accusations, claiming they'd had no part in anything, regardless of what proof might be found. The attacks and vandalism itself range from harmful messages appearing with magic on walls and doors, vaguely threatening letters written in ink that evaporates in sunlight, to fruit thrown and possessions left in tatters after breaking and entering. They don't stop at residential houses either, aiming for businesses held by those with any connection to the Coven, held by those with Bonds, and seek to cause any number of annoyance and distaste to those they attack. If it weren't for their Bonds, their Coven connections, they wouldn't be treated this way. That's the message they seek to send. c. UNEASY FESTIVITIES Come Septeril 21st, and lasting til the 23rd, Meán Fómhair is tentatively in full swing. The residents of Aefenglom are more on edge than during previous festivals save the red-hued Lithia, even once the first dignitary group has returned and the second left. There's barrels of apples decorating the street corners, but they don't seem as plentiful as they should. The games have a forced cheerfulness about them too, the unaffected being children who gleefully take part in each race, each competition, as well as the doctors with their cure-alls and promises of something to promote the harvest's delight, peddling medicine and medical advice to all who lend an ear with earnest grins and a profit to be made. The medicines are largely placebos with some possible side-effects for those that aren't, such as voice changes and intense cravings for various foods, but they seem to be very popular this year -- there's at least a couple merchants talking up the good fortune Dorchacht's stress has brought this year to one another, quieting down when they catch outsiders eavesdropping. With the continued attacks on those Bonded and Coven-affiliated, with one of their Speakers across the continent and the other sorely wrapped in Parlimentary business dealing with the attacks, the city holds its breath and tries to endure. Tries to be bright and cheerful while keeping obvious supplies behind their counters, to keep fright from their expressions and mind lest it invite the Cwyld to their midst, and ultimately drawing apart from one another in a time where unity is more than needed: Time will tell what actions might sew shut the new wound struck across Aefenglom.

Welcome to September's event log! The questions thread is split into two this time: one for Dorchacht, which can be found HERE, and one for Aefenglom, which can be found HERE. Please keep questions to their respective cities! This'll help both us and your fellow players in sorting information. Additionally, this event is a little special - we've prepare an OOC post to go along with it. Check it out over HERE - don't forget about it, as it'll help us see how things'll progress in the cities!

Comments

[futhark]

｢ ooc: it's been 84 years..thank you for your patience orz ｣

[ That is an incredibly valid point. With the illusions of various level of detail being possible... the question is why would anyone want to impersonate one of them. But they don't need to know the answer to have that be a problem. ]

Numbing the area, out of courtesy.

[ Because when the needles are driven in, it's going to really hurt. Not the prickle itself, it's a side-effect of the magical ink. Still, with all the changes his other side is going through, would it be that impossible to have him react unexpectedly? (No, Caster is just fucking with him because he can) ]

Just remember to deactivate it whether you're in a safe place, asleep or around someone you trust. [ That spells a very small amount of people, but they are out there. Caster is going to take advantage of being the one in control right now so he continues to give one last warning ] If you will make it disappear in just two days I'm not remaking this.

[ 50 hours would be the maximum estimate of active spell usage. With turning it off for the night and down-time and maintenance from other Witch it could last nearly entire stay. Nearly, Caster has no illusions that he will be giving the tattoo a touch-up before they go. They're both too active to stay idle and careful. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

Don't bother. I can handle pain.

[ It's true -- as a Servant, he threw Gae Bolg hard enough to tear his own muscles. His Rune Magic only repaired the damage, but did nothing for the pain. Even now, his pain tolerance is ridiculous. ]

I'm not going to waste your efforts like that. I'm not that reckless. [ Anymore. Not with so much at stake. The risk of ending up at someone else's command is enough to keep him from acting too rashly. He likes the freedom he has now and he's not about to give it up. ] It'll only be active when I need it.

[ They know each other far too well to expect this to last the whole trip. At least Berserker is only staying for two weeks, but even then it's long enough to be a problem when he knows full well he's going to be acting outside of his role. ]

... Stay safe, though. If I find out you died and I wasn't responsible for it, I'll kill you when I see you again.

[ It almost sounds like a joke. ]

[futhark]

[ Oh, Caster knows Berserker can handle pain. He also knows that the first time the ink enters the body, it is akin for having runes inscribed directly onto your bones. Eventually, the tissue will gain resistance to the components that make the ink, eventually it will just simply hurt.

Had they more time he would suggest going slow, to let the body gain that resistance. But here they are. Caster is about to start his work but then he pauses, and blinks owlishly—

—is that a joke?

Did Berserker just crack a joke? No other change has surprised him that much as that. ]

You will wake me up from the grave to do that? I'm honoured, truly. [ He can't help but bark a laughter and that's also when he drives the needles. ] This isn't a battlefield I'd want to die on, so rest assured, no corpse digging duty for you.

[ Mortality is a funny joke after all. But it is also true, he intends to return from Dorchacht and make sure everyone does the same. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Laughter followed by immediate pain. Now that's petty, if not completely expected. Berserker doesn't so much as flinch as Caster starts his work, just turns his head with a slight smirk. ]

I'd pull you out of whatever afterlife you end up in myself if it meant I was the one to kill you again. [ Is this what counts as friendly banter? His demeanor returns to something more serious, though. ] You'll survive because you're just as stubborn as I am.

[ He seems almost distracted despite his confidence. Just being in this city is a lot for him to deal with, a constant reminder of what he is...no, used to be. It's not like he's going to talk about it, though -- no, that's not what they do. He knows Caster won't try to pry it out of him, either, so he doesn't mind showing some of the vulnerability he feels in his body language. ]

...You'll have to forgive me if I create confusion for you. I'm not going to sit in the safety of the Coven the whole time. [ Read: "I'm going to have someone glamour me and we're going to look like twins again." ] I'll try to keep the consequences off of you.

[futhark]

[ A friendly banter, discussion about killing one another. That is already something he never expected to have with his darker side, that it happens is such incredible progress— Caster was to answer something with a challenge, how next time he will be the one to kill Berserker, but with enough playfulness.

But then he says something that makes Caster grow serious. Confused a bit, but also curious. Maybe even worried.

This might be the time when Caster does pry ]

Are you worried about me? [ Berserker is thinking about the possible consequences of his actions. Consequences that won't affect him. ] Neither of us is a type to sit inside the safe walls, not in city like this. We can take care of our own trouble.

[ It can't be a subtle "stay out of my way and don't give me trouble" because neither of them is really subtle about things. ]

To ease your concerns, let me suggest this: if one of us gets in trouble for overstepping of another, we could pose as twins. [ Even in fully human forms there are slight differences between them, that are enough to differentiate them. And that's a better explanation than a convoluted explanation of their identity ] Drop me a line and I will bail you out.

[ Even if it means getting arrested or whatever. His mistakes are his own mistakes, he owns them, then moves forward. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

Not for you. [ He snaps. A little too defensive, though he settles back down almost immediately. ] Mostly for the mission here.

[ Truth be told, the truce they have is comfortable. Berserker has been finding an identity of his own for once; it's freeing to not be forced to live as a shadow of someone else. Their relationship has softened and he can't find himself being bothered. There is, of course, still bitterness about his existence as an Alter and Caster will always be a reminder of that, nothing can ever erase that. He no longer has the overwhelming (and frankly petty) desire to make his lighter side's life difficult. This comfortable peace is preferable to bitter, meaningless fights. He'd like to preserve it.

So of course, the suggestion is met with a nod. ]

And I'll do the same for you. [ Even if his way of getting someone else out of trouble is usually violent. ] ... Though if any of the mirrorbounds hear it, that explanation might stick around once we're back in the city.

[ Twins is certainly a more comfortable explanation than the reality. ]

[futhark]

Uh-huh. [ Caster agrees flatly. Sure. He buys that— no, no he doesn't, and the look he shoots Berserker makes that clear. Press F to doubt. Sure you worry, Berserker, and you're uncomfortable with that realization. Caster knows the tsun when he sees it (probably because he plays the very same card in the same way).

Being focused on the tattooing process means he can't reply right away, which maybe is good. It gives him time to consider his thoughts. The suggestion about twins was an easy and immediate one, but he failed to consider a—

—long-term consequences it could bring. ]

You're right, that's a possibility. [ On one hand, it's not like most people care, their similarity slowly buried under all the changes. On the other hand, it could be good to have some simple, easily understandable explanation ready. Preferably vague enough to not be a lie, but also simple enough to let people draw their own (not necessarily correct) conclusion ] How would you feel about that?

[ This was always a subject they had to tackle sooner or later— if the truce is supposed to last. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Don't call him out like that, jeez! He knows it's pointless to try to hide it from Caster of all people, but play along, at least! Berserker lets that look go with a roll of his eyes and nothing else; it's not worth actually picking a fight over.

As for the other potential problem, he simply shrugs. It's a simple enough explanation and allows for a concrete response to the issue -- the answer of "something like that" to them being related tends to bring most questions rather than shutting them up. ]

I don't mind it. It's simple enough to not make them ask anymore questions and it's plausible. It's better than dancing around the topic when people notice how similar we look normally.

[ It's not as frequent, what with the horns and scales and all, but it still happens. ]

[futhark]

[ The more relaxed their relationship goes, the more likely calling out is. Sorry, not sorry. Playing along means a path of least resistance. Caring more on the other hand— Caring is tougher. But it's worth it. ]

So now I got a trouble-maker younger brother that I never asked for— [ He seems to take it in stride, but in reality, it troubles him just a little bit. He can push that away though, that's how compromise works. All in all, it's a sensible choice, one that would make sense for everyone around and spare them being vague and cryptic about what is going on.

And in a strange sense, it is not even totally removed from the truth, because they are two separate people now. Caster continues only after he finishes first rune though ]

How long do you think we can have this peace last? [ Not going all "there can be only one" because it's stupid. But they are defining roles to fit into right now. ] Because I might have changed my mind and am considering staying.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It troubles Berserker, too -- their relationship is extremely complicated, to say the least. Anything to make things less difficult in the long run is fine. It's not ideal, but nothing ever is. ]

Oh, I'm the younger one? [ Well, yes. He was summoned later and, in truth, never existed at all until Medb's wish created him. ] It's not like I ever asked for a "brother", either.

[ He sits in silence as Caster does his work. How long can this peace last...? Truly, he doesn't know and isn't sure. The silence lingers for a few moments as Berserker thinks of how to answer this. ]

I don't know...As long as it needs to. [ He is quite changed from before -- he's not being constantly reminded of what he can never be and can never have. He doesn't feel the resentment at seeing his lighter side used to. He has someone to protect and fight alongside, he has a sense of normalcy he doesn't deserve. ] I'm leaving here on the first boat back, though. After that, you're on your own.

[ This city of darkness...He hates it. He hates being here, he hates being reduced to what he used to be. The feelings rise like a bitter bile in the back of his throat. He stiffens up as he tries to keep control of those painfully negative emotions. ]

[futhark]

[ Reflexively Caster casts another frost spell over the skin as he continues the job. Complaints or not, it's still a courtesy that costs him nothing. ]

I'm not talking about Dorchacht, though. I'm talking about Gaerdegas. [ It's not like they truly have a say in either staying or not. But things have changed since when their truce was made, and for the better. The Bond brought clarity of mind and so needed companionship. And as horrible as Dorchacht is it made him realize there is something worst protecting. And in a strangest of ways that even includes Berserker and what he gained here. They already talked about it, how Berserker here someone who never had anything is a story being told here- in contrast to Caster who already had lived a fulfilling life and whose story is over.

Would it be so bad to add another chapter though? To continue the story, to spin the 'what if' into his own tale? ] That's why these long-term musings.

[ They are so bad at this ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ ...Ah, that is different. It surprises him considering he knew Caster had been struggling. Berserker can only smile, if faintly. ]

So long as things stay as they are, I don't see the peace going anywhere.

[ How strange things have gotten, to the point he wants to protect what he has. He doesn't resent his existence here as he did when he was a Servant.

There's something he owes Caster, though, something he's been thinking about recently. He's no longer a Servant and there's no Grail War nor Singularities in need of correcting...why keep going by the class name? It's a meaningless designation now and one that reminds him of a status he no longer wants. A few moments of silence later, he finds the words he wants. ]

I'm thinking about going by my True Name...But I don't want to cause problems for you.

[ There's also the fact that he isn't really Cú Chulainn -- he may have those memories, but they were never truly his. There is another possibility of a name, one that they were born with. Perhaps it's time to go back to that...But he won't mention that for now. He wants to see how Caster reacts to him essentially giving up his role as a Servant first. ]

[futhark]

[ So that's where the peace would end. Caster very briefly pauses, his face darkens. Every fiber of his being want to scream "Yours??" But he sets aside the temper flare, getting worked up over semantics, especially for someone with their temper, that leads nowhere. The grimace disappears replaced by serious and more somber expression.

Another benefit of the Bond. There would be fireworks already if he was still drenched in that irritation caused by magic build-up. ]

It's so tempting isn't it? [ He says instead. Tone of his voice conversational.] We're Servants no longer, but living and breathing beings. Casting class name away seems like a next big step.

[ Using class monikers made it easier for them to keep their identities separate, one is Caster one is Berserker, even if they both are Cu Chulainn. That's how they respect their truce.

But if one was to be the Cu Chulainn, what it makes the other? A shadow? A fake? The unworthy? Will it be there can be only one? ]

You do realize I will fight you for it? [ Caster let's a quiet laugh. Really how casual this conversation is ] When we're back from this trip of course.

[ No need putting the mission in jeopardy because they can't keep their private business private. Explaining that to their Bonded though... that's not going to be fun. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It's a much more subdued reaction than he'd expected. He knows Caster is holding back for the sake of what they're doing. Any other time, he's sure this would have turned into a fight and, really, he's grateful it didn't. Berserker doesn't press it right now -- there's no point in doing so. Pick your battles and all that. ]

You deserve it more than I do. [ Because, in the end, he is nothing more than a shadow who never truly existed. It's fine. ] But if you want to fight over it, so be it. You know how well that turned out for you before.

[ He's joking, too, in the only way he knows how: cruelly. ]

...Let's talk about it more once this is all over.

[futhark]

[ Bah. He lost last time, he knows that. Doesn't mean their next fight would go the same. Conditions would be different, circumstances would be different. Part of him — the warrior who loves challenges — is excited about the prospect of fighting his darkened self. The part of him that is a friend and companion, is saddened by this turn of events — they worked hard for this peace and did form a strangest of bonds. Conflicting emotions aside, he does not fear — especially not himself. What happens, happens.

In a sense, no matter who wins, the winner stays same, no?

But once again it's the closest ones that will suffer for foolish, impulsive decisions, so yes— talk. Maybe there is another way. ]

Deserve...? Don't give me that crap. It's as your name as it is mine. [ Caster clicks his tongue at the display of humble fatalism. It's ours, always have been. Maybe it is inevitable that if one says "I want this name" the other will answer "Yes. But fight me for it", but that on itself is acceptance on the claim. He stops his work, put away the tools and gestures Berserker to turn in his direction— which means he puts his hand on his other self chin and turns to face him. Touch almost tender ]

When I look at you I see a mirror. Despite all the differences, there is more we have in common— But we can't be whole again.

[ In the end, a Heroic Spirit summoned to a Servant vessel/class reflects just an aspect of themselves. Those forms are what they were brought here in. That's what they have to deal with it. Leaving this to settle upon coming back is the wisest choice indeed. However, Caster can't help but wonder— ]

Indulge me, what answer were you hoping for? [ How did you see it going? ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He doesn't fight the grip on his chin, meeting his gaze. Caster's face just reminds him of everything that he isn't, everything that was taken from him. That bitter resentment he'd buried bubbles back up, though he pushes it back down. Now is not the time for a fight and it wouldn't relieve the ache he feels, anyway. An Alter will always be an impossibility, nothing will ever change that.

Tension fills his body as he thinks of how to answer this. What was he hoping for...? He didn't know. It was an idle thought that troubled him and he gave it voice. It was stupid to say anything, a mistake he made speaking such nonsense. The tension leaves him as he begins to speak, a strange vulnerability in his voice. ]

I don't know. It's just something that's been bothering me and I thought that you should know.

[ He's not good at talking about why he does things, especially not if emotions are involved. Detached, decisive actions are what he's good at...This is so alien. He promised Diarmuid not to backslide and to face whatever their Bond opened up. These emotions are a part of that, aren't they? So he presses forward despite the deep discomfort. ]

I have another role now. I don't want to go back to being nothing more than a tool...So why keep what tethers me to that identity?

[futhark]

[ It's easier now, it's easier to face Berserker and not feel frustration. Unlike Caster, Berseker, an Alter is an impossible story; Caster is something similar yet different — a story that never came to pass. Even if a possible path, a fate he chose to follow made it impossible to have him live past a certain age. A story where he grew, learned and eventually became a druid like his grandfather before him (Cathbad started with warband before he settled to the druid role)— he rejected that possibility on the day when he decided to follow the prophecy. Cursed spear at his side just cemented the deal.

Cú Chulainn the warrior of Ulster that later became its druid— it could never happen.

They both were meant to burn out, in flames bright or dark (and Medb, somehow there is always a flame linked to Medb). Yet here they are now, made flesh and told "live". It's not easy. It wouldn't be easy if they were here alone and together... they can make it easier or harder for each other. Depending on what they decide to focus.

So Caster just laughs

He laughs and moves his hand to mess with Berserker's hair, getting them into his eyes. How honest, how earnest, how hard it must have been to show that vulnerability to anyone, let alone himself. ]

You're learning so much, good— that's good. [ He's proud, really ] To recognize what you have and where you can go.

[ Enviable almost. But at least he leaves Berserker's hair be, patting his shoulder. What a brotherly gesture, if your brother is a jerk. ]

Oh, I understand what you mean, trust me. I had those thoughts too— never said anything out of respect for our peace. [ Couldn't figure a way that wouldn't end with bloodshed. But it feels likely something that would have come up sooner the later. Maybe better it happened here, less likely they will tear each other's throats ] Never said anything— because I'd have to admit how being just a nameless druid bothers me.

[ In the end, he'd rather die as himself than truly become nameless. Honesty for honesty, vulnerability for vulnerability. It's not insecurity, but there was something close to resentment. Over the spear, over the strength, loving and being surrounded by those who love, having something to fight for— if someone who knows their story was to see them, Berserker is closest to truest image of Cú Chulainn out of two of them, and it made him grit his teeth. They both would rather simply be a Lancer, but that ain't possible

Bonds, or rather, people he had Bonded with gave Caster peace of mind, allowed to think clearly again. Instead of focusing on petty bullshit, made him realize he could have all that too (maybe aside from the spear, but what is life without a bit of salt), and that there might be a new chapter to open. Ironically enough, it was Berserker who told him first to take care of himself first and to find someone who finds the worth in him. He did, and he cherishes them greatly, both Lex and Emiya are a warm presence somewhere close to his heart. ]

In the end, I can say just— go where your heart leads you to. Do what feels most right for it. And yes, there will always be a price to pay. That's just a fact of life. Something inevitable to accept and move forward.

[ Is he aniki'ng his darker self while possibly dooming himself? Feels about right ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ This is all far more friendly than it should be. The fact that Caster laughs at him annoys him, then his hair getting ruffled makes it that much worse -- if this were a different time and place, Berserker would've been on top of him in a minute. It would've been enough to trigger a fight easily. Instead, he deals with the irritation and lets him do as he pleases. ]

Don't press your luck.

[ He smooths his hair back into place with a grumpy glare. He's resigned himself to Caster acting like an obnoxious older brother...It's weird, but it's fine.

He doesn't really know how to react to being told he's learning, though. Is he really learning...? He can't see how much he's changed and grown -- it's beyond him. Hell, how far he's come is beyond his understanding, too. Unthinkable, completely unthinkable for him to be able to change like this and yet, it's happened. It's just adapting, isn't it? Adapting to his environment is something he's used to doing, is this really that different?

In short: yes. This isn't for survival, not explicitly. He didn't need to the Bond to survive and he didn't need to deal with his emotions like he had been to survive. He could've slid back into the comfortable apathy at any time and yet he didn't. He's more than just a one-man war now.

As for the advice...Berserker shakes his head. ]

I think explaining our similarities as being twins has gone to your head. [ It's a light-hearted jab, or at least as light-hearted as he can get. ] ... I'll tell you my final decision later, though.

[futhark]

[ This level of understanding is comfortable, even if strangely so. But it's nothing that far removed of who Cú Chulainn is. You might become enemies with people you consider friends, and the other way around— any time, at a drop of hat. Does it mean there is hate involved? Nah, too bothersome to hate your enemies, it just means one of you has to die. The opposite is as easy, so what if we tried to kill each other in the Grail War or Singularity. Those rules and sides no longer apply. ]

We will see it resolved then. [ Maybe one day they will have to fight over that name. It's not today. ] Now break is over, the world of pain beckons you again.

[ Which means, back to the inking ]