towerofanimus | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Characters: Grainne and you!
Setting: Floor 3, Floor 55, Floor 86 and 1-17, April 3rd
Format: Either or!
Summary: After hiding during all the commotion, Grainne ventures out of her room for longer than a few hours and gets into trouble.
Warnings: Blood and slightly carnivorous plants, Irish cursing and some general NSFW in one thread (it's marked)

Floor Three

She had been in the Tower for weeks now, rarely venturing out of her room when everything shut down and she saw her true form for the first time. She had been warned, but it was still a shock to see the fluid inside her wire frame.

With her powers gone, she felt helpless and stayed out of the way, and it's a fair thing to say she had no idea what was going on. Hilda had disappeared before hearing any word from her, and it left Grainne with nothing but an empty spot in the pit of her stomach. She felt a sort of kinship to the Princess, having arrived at roughly the same time and knowing little to nothing about the place. She worried for her, but there again was nothing she could do without her Servant status. Grainne was no fighter and she could not even use the knife in her trunk properly to defend herself... her Noble Phantasm knife was inaccessible and did not require anything but getting shoved into a body to work.

If only she hadn't taken that advice to try to get her 'real' powers back. She would not be helpless now... and she did not think her powers are going to be returning any time soon, if ever.

Well, helpless in battle and certainly against the monsters that roam the place, but maybe not useless entirely. The few times she went out, she tried to make a stop each time to gather materials to hand stitch some clothes... even with so few months left, she should have a few pieces done in a day or two.

Today, she was out of her room for a reason other than food, grooming, or sewing. During her first life she had heard stories from bards and well traveled men of a place filled with all the knowledge of the world in it, and while she never got to visit that great place in life, the library held a certain allure to her. Exploring this floor a little, she stumbled on instruction manuals for something called "knitting" and "crochet"... the former of which looked an awful lot like nålebinding and something Grainne had excelled at in her first life.

Taking an entire stack of the books, she sat down at a table to read for a while. As she made progress through her stack, she tucked some into her bag for later.

Floor Fifty Five

After her stop in the library, Grainne got on with business. It hadn't just been a visit to the library she came out today. With how things have turned out, the reminders of the past in her trunk only get more painful each time she got inside it to choose a button, a thread color, or to retrieve a project. The smell of the pouch haunted her while she worked, clinging to the garments for hours on end. She could not bear it any longer, and had gathered the items given to her on her arrival into a bag she made for herself before she ventured out. It was time to move on, and she would; with a fierce determination.

She isn't sure how she found this floor, and in fact she couldn't really remember exploring here except for seeing the flames from the stair case on one of her initial walks about the Tower. She stood there in front of the incinerator, feeling the heat wash uncomfortably over her body, and for a moment she stared into the flames, reminded of other times in front of bonfires and celebrations during the holidays. Beltane would be soon... and she was sure nobody but her remembered. In a way, this could almost be considered a celebration. She has the fire and the smoke, and in a way what she had planned could be thought of as being purified of the past...

Shaking those thoughts off, she pulled out the pouch first, frowning at the decorated fabric. One of the first things she had made after she married, filled with flowers that grew around their home every year. It's only made of film, she told herself. Not even real. And neither were the memories it brought back. In it went, bursting into flames and disintegrating within moments. Next came the knife with the sheath, made and given to her by her sons as a present. This time a tug of sorrow pulled at her heart when it went inside, going almost as fast as the pouch did.

She hesitated at the carved comb though, holding it in her hand and running her fingers over the figures in the wood. Another memento of her first life, but one that came much later... the cranky old man had made it for her one winter, whiling away the time in front of the fire. She had been impressed by his skill, but age had dulled her eyes and she never realized how much work he had truly put into it. If this is anything like the original she once carried, that is...

She swallowed once, wrapping her fingers over it tightly. Perhaps it had been the only time of her life that had been true. Maybe not entirely happy or worry free, but comfortable, and filled with companionship and good people. Good years that someone could be proud of. Remembering them now, those years seem more precious...

Letting out a breath, she tucked the comb back into her bag and turned to leave.

Floor Eighty-Six

This floor looked like an innocent enough meadow to Grainne when she first stepped on to explore. If it was one less traveled than the one in the lower Tower, it would be a nice place to sit and relax for her, without getting interrupted every five minutes. Her first thought had been she could do some sewing or something with yarn here, and in fact she got so absorbed for a moment she hadn't seen the mushrooms half hidden by grass as they were.

It was a foolish mistake and she would have immediately left if she saw them, but as it was, it was too late as she had already intruded into a ring, and paid the price. For some reason, the Queen had seen fit to spare her life, and terrified as she was Grainne wasn't going to question it, but the Fair One might as well have killed her because this was much, much worse...

Not far from the staircase and covered in vines, Grainne laid pinned to the ground, too scared to call out and prevented from struggling by the thick thorns that coated every inch of the vines. She already had deep scratches all along the length of her body, and holes torn in her clothes and blood soiling the cloth. She knew she had to escape or she would die here, stripped of her powers as she was. Why did she even think that exploring is a good idea?

Room 1-17

Grainne sat on her bed, looking at her clothes in despair and tears stung her eyes. If her powers were working, she would have healed by now, but a thousand thorns had done their damage and she ached, and was sore. The brief shower she took to sooth them hadn't worked, but at least it washed off the blood. With her clothes damaged, she wore her white bodysuit and coat, as that seemed to have suffered the least.

Still, she had thread and there was no reason she couldn't get the blood out. Getting blood out of clothing seemed to be her lot in her first life, it shouldn't be a problem. Holding up her white summer dress, she made a note of how many places she would have to mend, and then let it drop to the floor, feeling exhausted.

Workshop April 12th

With her new roommates, Grainne has been seeking out alternative places to sit and work quietly. Today it's the workshop, mercifully empty for the moment, and a good opportunity to try and fix the comb that had broken over a week ago.

Looking at the comb hurt, reminding her of every terrible detail of that day. Not what it should remind her of. That by itself made her angry and resentful. That is why she was trying to glue the broken teeth back to the body, and not doing too good of a job with it. The comb was so delicately carved it made re-affixing the teeth difficult, and then the glue was slow drying, so whenever she thought it would work, they sagged and slowly fell off.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...Something similar happened to us with Caster. [Waver pressed a hand to his face, trying to push back thoughts of bloodshed and murderous water monsters.]

If it's any consolation, Lancer and I didn't accomplish much in the end past a handful of skirmishes. But then...that means you must not have seen any sign of the Holy Grail, did you?

No. There was no hint of where it could be. I tried my best, but I wasn't good enough.

[Grainne's face fell slightly, shifting her jaw to one side.]

The Caster in your war must have been very powerful...

No--it's more complicated than that. If your world is the same as mine, then it's better we didn't reach the end.

[Waver shook his head, sounding sincere.]

Powerful, maybe. Also completely fucking insane. His Master was...well, I don't think the poor bastard was well-equipped for what he summoned. When we stumbled on the lunatic's workshop, his Master may as well have been dead already for the condition he was in.

Why do you say that? What happened at the end?

[That's right, he lived pass the end of the War. With all of the things on her mind, that detail had almost slipped by her. Her curiosity is perked enough that it's a good distraction from the memories of that... Servant, though she does wonder if it might be the same man they are talking about.]

Did someone make a wish on the Grail?

That's...kind of the thing. I've never been one hundred percent certain on what happened, or if any one person caused it. What I can tell you beyond any doubt is that the Grail is...not what anyone believed it was. At the minimum it sure as hell wasn't anything I expected.

What happened at the end is difficult to retell in great detail; it happened very quickly, and it was a long time ago. I know something began to manifest--I remember this horrible presence worse even than Caster's energy signature felt. It was far off, but I saw Archer's Noble Phantasm activated; the sword that split heaven and earth. Immediately after that, a fire started that spread over half the Shinto district.

Since then, I've guessed a few things and determined others with certainty. I hypothesized some years ago that the Grail must have been damaged or corrupted by some force, and Archer's Master must have commanded him to destroy it. After my arrival here, I met a Servant calling himself Avenger.

[Hesitating, Waver's hand gripped his right shoulder as if it hurt somehow.]

...I do not understand what he is specifically. But it would appear he is the force or individual that made the Grail into whatever Archer's Master saw ten years ago. That much is certain, and all it leaves is the staggering question of what Avenger is and how the Grail got to the state it's in.

And more importantly than those, how to destroy it.

Edited (enter key...) 2014-04-03 23:27 (UTC)

[Grainne's mouth drops open for a moment, her calm crumbling completely.]

That... but how... that, that isn't right. We were fighting for the Grail because it is meant to grant a wish to the winner...

[The idea of all she has been through, all that they went through, the War itself and her death being for nothing.]

All of that has been... for a false promise? Everything we've been through?

To be blunt, yes. That's why I have to destroy it, permanently. No other magus would have the common sense to do as much, even if they knew the truth.

I don't want any other Servants or Masters to suffer for some godforsaken lie. It has to fucking stop, no matter what it costs.

[Burying her face into shaking hands, Grainne sighs, feeling the last of her hope drain with it.]

Then there is nothing left.

...I don't think that's true. If I put the cycle of the war to an end, Servants like you and Diarmuid won't have to fight an automatically losing battle.

It's true, there are a lot of wishes that can never be granted in all this. But does that really make everything so hopeless? You're alive right now despite everything, so you should live while you can.

It is admirable to stop more pointless battles from happening... but what will I do with this life? Tell me that.

[She takes her hands away from her face and curls them on the top of the table, fingers laced together and picking at her nails.]

Time here is so short, and in my world it is even shorter... When I return there, I will do so with knowledge of what the Grail really is and no time to stop it.

I can't answer that question. What someone does with their life is their decision to make, not something that another person can tell them.

But I can say this--if your war's already lost, consider finding another world to settle into if we all manage to get out of here. This is a unique opportunity for people like you and Diarmuid with no other option; if we restore everything, you'll have more options than you know.

I'll consider it.

[Except she won't. She knows this. Go to another place where she doesn't belong? It is always better not to meddle in magics one doesn't know anything about. There's always a price.]

But I think I'd like to go home anyway and see if I can change things.

...Against my better judgement, I feel compelled to ask: since I was your Master, just...how much do you actually know about me?

[Waver liked to think he knew his past self to some degree regardless of parallel worlds. Potentially having someone around following the fourth war would have been... something. He mentally settled on the word 'valuable' and cut off that train of thought before it became depressing.]

Of your past? Only a little of how you started studying the craft... and why you entered into the war. I know how you were then better; how you reacted when I told you my wish; your strength and courage in the face of danger... and your insecurity and lack of faith in yourself. You grew stronger while we fought together, and... and you encouraged me when things looked grim.

[Biting her lip, she looks at him but does not meet his eyes, confusion clouding her features.]

Why do you ask?

It was only a question.

[Waver averted his own gaze as well, like he'd just become fascinated with the wall off to his left.]

I was just thinking...something a little foolish and unimportant. Although this is an incredibly distant possibility--if you do make it back to your world, and if you and that Waver through some miracle or freak chance both manage to survive...he could probably use someone around to keep him in check, that's all.

[It's like Grainne's mouth suddenly became a desert, and she tries to hide the guilty flash.]

I... will try. That's all I can promise.

You don't need to promise me anything. It was a stupid thought to begin with.

I'm sorry...

What are you apologizing for?

[Pressing a hand against her forehead, she sighs.]

...I... should have said so earlier. I died... in battle.

...I see. Well, that's not the sort of thing one can really blame you for. But then...how exactly do you expect to go back?

I don't know. Maybe something will happen...

There's not really any way to know for certain, I'm afraid.

I suppose we will find out, eventually...

I'm just sorry you drew such a clueless Master. I hope it wasn't too aggravating for you.