☆ 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]

[ Caster feels that... wordless inquiry. It's directed at him, and while he can't make exact question he— he gets the intent. ]

Tsk, I'm never going to get used to this. [ Non-verbal communication is a thing, but sharing feelings and impression when tuned so closely... it's not irritation that Archer gets to feel though, more of puzzlement, amusement and just tiny bit of frustration ] You want to ask me a question, don't you?

[ His hand travels the planes of skin around the tattoo, but not for sake of casting a spell this time. It's just a simple caress ]

Ask away.

[boneofsword]

[Archer huffs. There's no use hiding it, then. He reaches up to softly touch Caster's lips.]

You seem troubled. What happened?

[This Bond is mutual, with not only each of them giving and taking, but also noticing all the small details and calling each other out. Sharing pain and burdens as well as joy. Archer's still learning how to be more open, how to let Cú in. He can't ignore his troubles too.]

[futhark]

[ One is too closed off the other— just figures out he might have been too careless about being open. Caster resumes his work on the fixing tattoo. Kind of an asshole move, but the pain will be a distraction. ]

This whole city— we were lucky to arrive in Aefenglom. Wonder if there were any with no such luck. [ What would happen to Mirrorbounds if they appeared here? But that's a smokescreen, while something on his mind, not truly all the weight on him. ] I've inked a lot of ours here. So many come to me—

[ No pun intended. He's still circling. What is that really bother him? Is there really anything in particular or is it just the general atmosphere of this city. ]

Things won't be the same after we return, huh? [ If they return. That is the question. ]

[boneofsword]

[Pain doesn't distract Archer from his earlier question. He keeps playing with Caster's hair as he considers his next words carefully.]

This place changes both of us, with each Dream and each summoning. To survive is to adapt and change.

[Just like his summoning made him remember so many things he's had forgotten, let this hollow shell of a man once named Emiya recall the times he's been human. The Grail War that he lived through again, as a Servant this time, and afterwards Gaedargas.

His Bonded's question makes him worry, though.]

[futhark]

[ Survival, yes. Yet they're not doing anything in their best interest to survive, quite on the opposite with what Archer had suggested. With how involved he got with the Dorchacht situation. ]

You're not trying to die for a cause bigger than you, aren't you? [ It's not accusatory, because he could understand this reasoning. Just a bit irritated if anything. He's got no idea how to deal with the worry he feel ]

[boneofsword]

[Those words make Archer scoff openly. It's a foolish choice, and not something he's going to consider here.]

No. I've done it one time too many, and it's not worth dying. Besides I have someone worth living for. [he raises strand of hair to his lips and kisses it. A sentimental gesture, sure, but one that suits Cú.]

[futhark]

[ That———

That makes Caster pause. See, that's why it's better not to talk within the inking session. He's not going to play dumb, or coy. This can't be serious ]

...are you trying to court me? [ Is this the Dragon inside, or it's that soft, dumb dork Archer has always tried to hide? Their Master at Chaldea had a penchant of bringing that out of him, they all saw it.

Sentimental fools, both of them. Despite the steel and blades— ] That makes you first to try.

[boneofsword]

[Archer is that dumb, soft dork hidden under a thick layer of sarcasm. He rarely shows it, only in company of those he trusts. Apparently it includes Caster.]

Really? I think there must have been many vying for your attention.

[Despite all the blood on his hands Archer is a fool. This time he wants to live his life without regrets and without making wrong choices.]

Do you dislike being courted?

[futhark]

[ Caster's gaze follows the hand twirling his hair around the fingers. If Archer decided to grab the strand and tug him by it, he'd play along, he realizes. ]

Don't take it wrong, I'm not denying you. [ Vying for attention, yes, Flirting here and there, and he was one to court once— a lifetime ago. It's like all these Servants are taking that chance for a second life, a second beginning here, no regrets... It's admirable, really. ] I'm glad I got to see that secret face of yours.

[ But he's not above dying for a cause, it seems. Even a selfish one. Could he abandon his name to stay with his Bonded? Abandon name, forget history— move into the shadow yes, but not disappear? That ambivalence resonates over their Bond. ]

[boneofsword]

[Archer can't sit up, not with Caster working on his tattoo. So he does tug his hair lightly to pull him closer. All he does know is that whatever is bothering Caster is serious.]

Cú Chulainn. [he murmurs, cupping his cheek. There's worry in grey eyes, and in their link. He knows his Bonded, knows his sense of honour, knows his beliefs and fatalistic approach to fate.] What ails you?

[futhark]

[ Oh well, he was never good with this whole secrecy bullshit. The tug makes him stop working and he looks into Archer's eyes. They have the same colour as swords he forges.

It's ]

I'm not the only one carrying this name here. But neither of us is Servant anymore. [ A fact that was for so long not addressed ] Yet we stick to these monikers, out of courtesy and respect for our truce.

[ At least that was his reason, but truly, he has no reason to think Berserker's was any different ]

Do you know what happens when one will decide to stop?

[boneofsword]

[Not even once did Archer expect to see such expression in red eyes. It must have been incredibly rare, showing only during the worst moments. His own eyes darken. Even if he knows it's not his place to interfere he wants to act.]

Cú Chulainn. [he repeats the name, enforces his belief that Caster deserves to wear it with pride. Stubbornly searching for a loophole to save his most important person. Then— ]

You were known under many names, Hound and Shield of Ulster.

[It's a desperate gamble, but a plausible one.]

[futhark]

[ It's not really who deserves what. They both can be traced to the same source, and Berserker shows that even corruption of the Grail can be reversed— this world offered him a new life, one that he never had. His claim to that name is as good as Caster's. ]

That I was— [ Probably few more, like Child of Light for example. He resumes his work on the tattoo again, but it serves a distraction. That's not a burden he wanted his Bonded to bear. ] We have more pressing matters to attend to right now. Muddling it with such idle musings wasn't the best of my ideas— But I couldn't truly hide we had talked about this.

[ Had he been unbonded he would run into this challenge without hesitation. "Besides I have someone worth living for.", that's not something he can casually ignore. Yet if he doesn't figure a way out how to solve this True Name puzzle, once again he will have to break at least one promise.

Enough of that part of the story. ]

[boneofsword]

[Nothing can distract Archer from the awareness that his Bonded is in deadly peril. Truce between both Cú Chulainn's was to good to last for long. He focuses on keeping his breath steady, already considering several possibilities.]

Hmph. It simply means you have several names to choose from and not only one. [in all honesty it's a tough call. Someone with such a ridiculous pride isn't going to give up their True Name. It's going to end in blood if he doesn't do something— if he ever can.]

[futhark]

[ Well, shit— he got himself a viciously protective one, didn't he? Caster addresses that feeling, not the words. ]

Do not catastrophize, Emiya. Assume it's just speculation— [ — and share the insights? Caster's words are way more sharp than the myriad of emotions shared on their link. Archer is a man who willingly gave up his own name, Caster's internal conflict could be something trivial, childish— not understandable. Yes, he tries to understand and office advice. It's grounding— Cú Chulainn never sought safety, but he always had a haven to return to. His Bonded are who he should concern himself the most.

Is Caster in deadly peril? No less and no more than Berserker is — Dorchacht is more dangerous than them to each other, the truce is in power. Maybe they find a way to talk this out. Maybe they fight to kill each other, but on even ground. Not because of rage and poor impulse control but in a duel.

That should remain the last option though. Only if everything else fails. ] Remember, I will not die so easily. Especially not at my own hand.

[boneofsword]

[What can he answer to this? Nothing, really. Yet knowing Caster doesn't plan to throw his life away is a relief so strong it can be felt through their link. Archer has to wait until his Bonded finishes with the tattoo. When it's done he can act.

Grabbing Cú Archer pulls him into a kiss. It's hard, needy, desperate, everything he hesitates to put into words or even thoughts. Almost vicious, for he doesn't shy from biting or drawing blood. For a brief moment his control almost slips, emotions threatening to break free.

He's not wanting to let go even when they part for breath, resting his forehead against his lover's (always mindful of the horns.)]

Live, Cú.

[futhark]

[ There should be time for maintenance now. To clean the tools, to pack them neatly into the box. That's how it should be done, yes. But with their time so limited here, with all those big stakes waiting for them outside— it could wait. The first one touch, one kiss, one taste. Growing into more, and more with each second.

Gods, how it's been only what, two weeks? How could they grow so needy for each other? Was this the Bond magic? Or was this too true to be just Bond magic?

The request that's followed when Archer's lips leave his— Something cold coils around Caster's heart but is also melted in an instant by overflowing warmth. What is his own feeling and what is Archer's, he can't tell. Maybe he just don't want to think too much about it. ]

Is this what you fear? That I seek death?

[boneofsword]

[Here, in this gloomy place, so far away from his lair and hoard, Archer loathes the thought of parting again. Being with Caster feels right, and for the first time since coming to this godforsaken place Archer feels whole again. No longer hollow.]

No. [his voice firm and sure. It's no denial, he knows that meeting danger head-on is merely how his lover is. Archer gently caresses his cheek and kisses corner of his mouth. Somehow he can't stop himself from touching, from memorizing Caster anew.] No, and never consciously. You do everything to survive. I want you to live, Cu.

[futhark]

[ The clock is ticking, each second bringing them closer to parting. But with Archer's suggestion, with Caster receptive to work with the Resistance and providing them the missing knowledge on the enchantments— they will be able to meet more often. Steal moments like this again. ]

You can't claim that wish if you don't promise the same, Emiya. [ Cú whispers Which means, he will fulfill the plea as long as it's Archer who doesn't inherit the stupid. This simple wish touched him more than he wants to admit it, but he can't be the one to build the walls now. He leans into the touch, craving the closeness, turning his lips to the palm on his cheek.

His voice is calm as he says it, as calm as he can keep it. To let himself be openly vulnerable is no small feat. There were many traits his people celebrated loudly and boisterously— laugh like the world was to end, celebrate without restraint, mourn strongly but shortly and have no fear, above all else, have no fear.

How many centuries has it been when he was in the company of someone who simply wanted to live with him? ]

[boneofsword]

[It's a gift and a proof of trust that he can't— no, he won't break. So much more than he deserves, and much more than he's ever had. Archer raises a bit to kiss Cú's cheek, corner of his mouth, his eyes, kissing everywhere he can reach.]

I have someone to live for, and a place to return to. [he reminds solemnly. It carries more weight than an oath. If he's given a second chance Archer intends to live his life to the fullest.

That's what his Bonded taught him.]