emiya shirou ⚔ 衛宮士郎 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peopledieifkilled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
yamaboshi2020-07-21 06:48 pm
peopledieifkilled) wrote in yamaboshi2020-07-21 06:48 pm
⚔️ closed ( au ) psl
The Holy Grail War.
It had been quite some time since it had ended, but for Emiya Shirou it feels like it was just yesterday.
But then -
He was told, as the winner of the Fuyuki Holy Grail War, that there was another one starting up.🗈
It had been quite some time since it had ended, but for Emiya Shirou it feels like it was just yesterday.
But then -
He was told, as the winner of the Fuyuki Holy Grail War, that there was another one starting up.🗈
- Of course, the grail was the one who chose the Masters and honestly... even now, he'd argue that he was still inexperienced. That he was unworthy.
Not to mention, he wasn't even a proper magus.
He was a fake.
But... was that really so bad? His wish still hung in the air, out of reach.
That he'd become a superhero.
So -
Just like the grail that he had destroyed and dismantled... he would participate in this war, too.
Even Tohsaka, who had tried to convince him against it, sighed at him and just gave him the instructions on how to do the summoning properly instead of by sheer accident.
And thankfully, this time he wasn't being chased by a Lancer trying to end his life, so he had all the time in the world - or at least more time in the world than he did before to prepare.
Stepping into the storage shed, he couldn't help but remember -
How speechless he was.
How strong the wind was.
How time had stopped, only for him to hear the sound of her voice,
"From this time forth, my sword shall be with you and your fate shall be with me.
—Now, our contract is complete."
That had been the day that changed his life forever.
And now, while he couldn't relive that moment, much less recreate it...
... he knew this place was special. Moving some of the boxes around, he eventually found it. The magic circle. This probably would do.
With a heavy breath, he wiped off the sweat of his brow and closed his eyes, focusing on the measly magic circuits that he had and spoke the words, not entirely sure if he would even be able to summon anyone, much less the right 'card' that would help him on this long journey.
So, he proverbially crossed his fingers, and prayed...
TECHNICALLY mo's summoning speech is different but i figure this is better for drama (1/2)
Saber's arrival is like a storm.
A torrent of red lightning rages forth from the summoning circle, lashing out at the interior of the shed, bathing it in a furious glow and knocking everything not nailed down into a chaotic disarray.
One of the bolts of electricity scorches the wall behind Shirou, missing him by centimeters.
The furor of the Servant's summoning dies down in just a few seconds, leaving the air in the shack literally humming with electricity as the smoke clears, revealing-
A Servant in a hulking suit of armor, kneeling before him.
There's a moment of silence.
Then, Saber rises to their feet. A titanic red sword appears in their hands, one they plunge into the ground with a total disregard of Shirou's flooring. "By the call of the Holy Grail, I am summoned: Servant, Saber! Now, I must inquire..." The knight's imposing helmet begins folding into their armor, revealing the face beneath.
(2/2)
no subject
The way the air moves, the crackle of the lightning in the area... it only seems to make him wonder just who - or what, really - he had managed to summon.
There's chaos that flits into the area which leads into uncertainty.
Just like this War.
The person he sees is a Servant in armor, bulky and heavy; enough for him to immediately think that perhaps they could cause quakes in their wake with just a single step.
They introduce themselves as Saber - but it's not the one he remembers. Of course not. He could never be that lucky a second time.
And more importantly...
Saber - his Saber - she deserved to be happy. Not to fight another War. And in a way, his quiet wish was granted.
But then he sees her face, and there's a quiet widening of his eyes.
They look similar, he thinks, but he doesn't say aloud. Instead, his expression is a telltale sign of his feelings on the matter. Wide eyes, his mouth agape. He moves his lips, as if to make words but... they simply don't come out.
Not at first.
He's breathless.
There's the familiar tinge of pain on his left hand as the seals form with a flash of red magic. So, he is a Master, yet again. Time for round two, he supposes.
But -
He should answer the question, shouldn't he?
"Are you my Master?" That's something that he was unable to answer properly the first time. After all, he had no idea what the War was, back then. But now, he has some experience. Sure, he might still be mediocre, but now he can answer that question properly.
"Ah, yes - I am."
It still comes off as a little awkward, a little soft, but he manages, at least. Or tries to. "Is this proof enough?" He holds up his hand, the one with the Command Seals, up to the Saber.
no subject
Still leagues better than being stuck as a spirit, though.
The words roll their way out of Mordred's mouth naturally as the knight straightens, inhaling, exhaling, getting used to the feeling of air rushing through the body once more. But as Secret of Pedigree folds back into Mordred's armor, there's a
moment
where the Master's expression reminds the knight of a memory from long, long ago.
After that first shouting match in Arthur's throne room.
When Mordred had stormed out, fire, fury, and thunder, and had forgotten to put Secret of Pedigree back on.
And there was Kay, looking at the knight with mouth agape.
Several roared threats and hateful glares later, Kay had agreed to keep his idiot mouth shut.
But that face, halfway between disappointment, confusion, and hope-
It pisses Mordred off.
There's no way that this whelp could've participated in another war and made it all the way through, much less summoned Arthur. No way in Hell. But that face- it sticks in Mordred's craw.
"That's good enough. But oiiii, Mas-ter," the knight says, a dangerous glint in Mordred's eyes, voice, and razor smile, "you weren't expecting someone else, were you?" Mordred's gaze tilts up at Shirou (among the many things the knight cursed Father for, his lamentable height was one of them) as the knight's thumb jabs at Mordred's breastplate, "Because you won't find a better Saber anywhere. I'm Mordred, the true successor to the King of Knights, Arthur!"
no subject
He's absolutely fucked, if only because Shirou is all too keenly aware that he's an absolutely awful on the spot liar.
"O-Of course not," he stammers out, nervous bullets of sweat falling down the side of his face. He can only imagine what kind of expression is on his face, completely slackjawed and a little panicked. "It's nice to meet you... Mordred."
Time to change the subject - if only because maybe if he does that, he can make amends and they won't notice.
"Do you... want something to eat?"
Nailed it.
no subject
A complete wimp.
But there's something else about his mannerisms that bothers Mordred, although they can't quite put their finger on it-
And then Shirou offers food and all is forgiven.
"Ahahahaha! You know just what I like, Master!" Mordred smiles widely (although their suspicion isn't quelled, not just yet) as they walk past him, slapping Shirou on the back with tremendous force. "Maaaaaan, it's been too long since I've had any real food. What do you cook?" they ask as they dismiss their armor, revealing their clothing underneath.
...turns out without the armor, they are the exact same height as Artoria.
no subject
Being afraid of dying, however - that's a different, more complex story. As someone who's basically been on the verge of death and back again, he isn't necessarily afraid of it.
But it definitely makes him feel a little ill just thinking about it.
However, the excitement and how Mordred smiles widely is a telling sign for him to relax a bit, returning it himself.
"Japanese, mostly. Although I've cooked a fair share of Western food. I will admit, though, that Sakura's a little better at me in that regard, however. Is there anything in particular that you don't like?"
Might as well get that out of the picture first before making any concrete plans on what, exactly, to cook.
no subject
"I don't care, as long as there's a lot of it and it tastes good." They walk into the house and whistle, looking left to right. "Damn. Fancy place you got here. You rich or something?"
no subject
He already mulls the ideas in the back of his mind. Nabe might be a good option here - sukiyaki, maybe nabeyaki? Or maybe a donburi...
Well, he'll figure that out once he checks what ingredients they have left in the kitchen.
"I'll make something really good, then." He has a fair enough confidence on his cooking, at least. "I wouldn't say I'm rich, though. I just inherited this place from my old man with Fuji-nee's help."
no subject
"This is... Fuyuki, huh? Nice and traditional. Not too crowded, either. That's good.
"So..." They stretch again, looking for all the world like a cat. "Any idea where our first opponent could be. We should get a head start." Mordred looks... extremely eager to get into a scrap.
no subject
"I believe the War proper is actually outside the country," he admits as he walks into the kitchen after having taken his shoes off returning back to the main building.
While he speaks to Mordred, he continues to look through the fridge, finding the proper ingredients to cook the nabe.
But first - he has to do this right.
Wash his hands. Then he can get to right to the cooking, putting on his apron the moment he's wiped his hands dry with the towel.
"You seem overly eager to get into a fight, though."
no subject
Wait, are they actually fifteen? That's something to chew on. "How long am I going to have to wait for us to get moving, then? I just got here, I should have the chance to knock the rust off, damnit! Nothing bad with getting into a scrap with the enemy a bit early, is there?"
Considering who Mordred is talking to, yes, yes there probably is.
no subject
"We can't just rush into fights," he comments as he continues to cook from the kitchen. "We'll be taking the plane tomorrow morning."
It's rather simply put - too simply put. "Anyway, dinner's going to be ready in a few minutes, but if you're getting bored while waiting, the remote for the televisions on the table, and Fuji-nee left some snacks as well."
There is, in fact a small tin of cookies!
smash cut to the airport?
Mordred screws up their face as they sift through the knowledge the Grail has given them of the modern day. A mathematical- no, that's nerd stuff, their master couldn't possibly be that much of a dweeb-
They munch on a cookie thoughtfully (how is the tin already half-empty?) and eventually sigh, giving up. "...okay, I give up. What the Hell is a plane?"
i'm fine with that as necessary!
His words trail off awkwardly before finishing up the cooking and bringing the hotpot over before going right on ahead and bringing bowls for himself and Mordred.
"It's a flying vehicle. Does that make sense?"
HOWWWWWWWWWWW DID I MISS THIS I'M SO SORRY
"It does, but I really, really wish it didn't.
"My head hurts."