[ This week, like all the previous ones in camp, had been a ride from start to finish. As time wore on, as their numbers dwindled and paranoia settled in around the edges of their minds, things were looking bleaker than ever. And yet...Floe had found a certain amount of solace now. It had started with Lance's message, the barest hint of his spirit making its way through. But when she had unearthed her ceremonial regalia in the collection of possessions from Stan's room, things finally felt like they were coming together. She'd never expected such things to actually be here, wouldn't have seriously considered asking for them even when she was at her most homesick for fear of being disappointed. But maybe she should have. Maybe she should have had more faith.
It's a funny thought, and she smiles a little as she straightens the winged carving upon the coral altar. Even though her path seems clearer than ever, the act does still feel irreverent, and she would be lying if she weren't slightly worried about all this. They knew all too well that 'Sol' was real and present. That he was probably watching them all through this very altar, if not the whole campground. This could potentially be a very, very stupid idea, a grievous offense that would see him striking her down before she could get a word in edgewise.
("Is it okay for you to pray in another religion's chapel?")
Sol isn't related to Tempus Spatium the way Animus was, but she hopes he'll forgive her for the unorthodox setup this time. This is for him too, after all.
She takes a step back, looking it over once more before she kneels. The black, heavy robes pool around her as she crosses both arms over her chest and exhales, long and slow. Steadying. Flying came naturally, but she was never so good at praying this way. ]
Lord Sol, please forgive my intrusion. I am a stranger to you, and I carry my own God with me into your house. But I'm not here to trespass against you...only to reach out. We...we want to help you. All of the campers. We want to find a way to end this cycle once and for all. But we need your help in return. We've learned a lot, but there's still so much more we need to know. About you, about the people behind this. The people that are hurting you. We need to know so we can make them stop! I don't know if this will mean anything. Maybe it's pointless. But I have to try. This whole thing is wrong, and I think...you know it. I think you want this to end as much as anyone. At...at least, I hope so.
Just...if you can hear me. If there is anything you can do, anything at all...if you can just give me a clue. Please tell me. I'm listening. I'll hear it.
[It's not like Shirou was planning to come to the chapel. He'd been heading to the kitchen, where he and Chuuta were going to meet and spend the night cooking something nice and making sure no murder happened. It was a good, wholesome plan, so of course it was doomed to fail.
Instead, while he was walking through the lodge, he saw something strange. A black, goopy trail leading across the rec room floor - it only took him a glance to recognise it as the mud that had poured from the Grail on that day months ago. There was no reason for it to be here, and a part of him immediately recognised that he might be hallucinating, but... what if it was real, somehow? He couldn't leave that be.
Which is why he is now stepping cautiously into the chapel, not sure what to expect. He sees a figure in black kneeling by the altar, and for a moment thinks he sees someone harmless who could reasonably be there. Then his vision shifts and the figure takes on the unmistakeable form of Kirei Kotomine.]
...What are you doing here?
[There's no way it can be him. He's dead, right? Shirou had driven the Azoth dagger into his heart on that day. But then, life and death don't mean much in this place. The people that brought them here are known to employ the insane and dangerous. It all fits.]
[ Floe is so caught up in her prayers that she doesn't hear him enter at first, startling only when he actually speaks up. She doesn't relax even when she notices who it is, stiffening at the sound of his voice. She doesn't hate Shirou, but that hasn't stopped her from avoiding him...avoiding even thinking about him. About how close the trial was back then, how for just a moment she'd really, truly wished it had been him up there with Red instead of Lance. And how he knew it. Even if he didn't know who had made that wish, he still knew about it.
It's enough to make her uncomfortable, on top of everything else, but she stays calm for now, not standing up or turning to look at him as she responds. ]
[He hears a mocking response, just as expected from the fake priest. What else could it be?
If Kotomine's here, they could all be in even worse danger than before. Shirou had never understood his motives even at the end, but he'd clearly taken delight in death and suffering. He'd tried to use the Grail to destroy humanity. And - he'd hurt Illya and Tohsaka. That last memory, more than anything else, makes anger and fear fill his mind.
He can't let Kotomine roam around freely in this camp, especially not tonight. And with someone like that, stopping him peacefully isn't an option. Hell, maybe it could even count as the death required by the ritual? That way nobody else would have to die.
As he's frantically justifying the urge to kill the man he hates, he finds himself already activating his magic circuit and running through the steps of projection magic. Silently, a knife appears in his hand. All he has to do now is bring it down...
But he can't. Even if it's someone he has to kill, he can't just stab them in the back. He wants to be a better person than that, right? So, instead:]
[ His response just gets her hackles up even more. She REALLY didn't want to be bothered in the middle of this, especially not by someone like him. What's his problem, anyway? He's really going to make her stop and turn around when she's clearly busy? That pisses her off. More than it probably should...dimly, very dimly, she's aware of that, but whatever. Whatever! He wants her to look at him so bad, she will. She makes a scoffing sound, clearly unimpressed as she stands up, dusting herself off dismissively, and turns to face him. Unimpressed, and unaware. ]
Interrupting someone in prayer is very rude, you know-!
[Of course the priest chastises him for being rude, of course- always sarcastic, always playing some unknown game of wits. It pisses him off even more. As if a killer like that has any room to talk about prayer anyway.
As soon as Kotomine (is it actually him? or someone else-) turns around, Shirou's already driving the dagger into his heart. Don't leave him time to draw a weapon of his own or cast a spell, just get it over with.
He definitely hits the right spot, he's sure of it, but strangely the feel of it is all wrong. He just can't quite figure out why.]
[ She never even sees the knife. By the time she's turned he's already too close, too fast- she only barely has time to feel the spike of fear before the blade is already buried into her cheek, missing her eye by no more than an inch.
Not that it matters where exactly it hits, because it does the job. At least she manages to scream...doesn't she? She's sure she must be screaming, mouth gaping wide, but if any sound actually escapes she can't hear it through her own shock. She falls back against the altar without a struggle, vision already going black from the pain.
She doesn't black out. It's only a few seconds later - though it feels like much longer - but against all logic, she feels her cheek stitching up somehow, the wound receding and reversing until it's nearly gone. Floe inhales sharply, almost heaving from the unfamiliar sensation as she scrabbles back against the alter, desperation to get away winning over her confusion. ]
[The wound's healing? The priest's... face? No, that can't be right - his chest is healing.
That's not a power that he should have. Even if he was infected with the stone, that wouldn't be right.
A feeling of panic washes over the anger. It's far stronger than the sudden turn merits, but it mixes right in with the paranoia and surprise and overwhelms him. He's got to move before the enemy recovers enough for a counterattack.
Another stab of the dagger, close to the first one. This time, for sure-!]
[It hits lower this time, slicing through her lip as she frantically jerks away, and she can taste blood and metal both as she crumples against the stone slab. Yet once again, it is only moments before she feels the skin pulling itself together, somehow undoing his damage. She doesn’t understand it, can’t wrap her thoughts around it...but she doesn’t have time to think. The enemy won’t wait for you to think. He won’t wait. She has seconds, if that, before his surprise wears off, before he moves again, before -
Her hand, groping blindly across the coral surface of the altar behind her, comes into contact with a different sort of stone.
She grits her teeth, fingers curling around the shaft of the statue and immediately hefting it up. She throws all her weight into the swing- up and around, aimed as squarely as she can at his head.]
[One of the statue's delicate wings catches him on the temple, drawing blood but breaking off and falling to the ground. It's enough to stagger him for a moment, but no more than that - he recalls Saber's training, the sharp instructions to never lose sight of the opponent even when you're injured, and pushes through the pain.
He stabs once more, and once more the wound just heals itself. The dagger isn't working.
That's not a problem, though. If one weapon fails, all he has to do is imagine one that will work.
The dagger falls to the ground, abandoned, and a broadsword takes its place in his hand. He'll make sure the next attack ends this fight.]
[ Floe - 1F World: KP71 Danger level: 2 Outside of her mech she’s not so dangerous.
"There must be some mistake. Everyone knows that a Simoun can't be shot down."
The statue glances off him almost like it's nothing. She sees blood and for a second she hopes, prays that it will slow him down, but he just keeps coming at her, seemingly more determined than ever. She feels the knife again, the blinding pain, choking on her own blood, and then the healing, but...slower now, struggling to keep up with his blows. At some point the broken carving slips out of her hand, and she hears the dagger clatter to the ground alongside it and she prays...
But this is Sol's chapel, not Tempus Spatium's. Her prayers won't be heard in a place like this.
[He hears the scream. In the moment that the sword blade sinks through the side of her head and into her brain, he hears Floe's voice and realises who she is.
He freezes for a second, staring down at what he's done to her face. It's so absurd, yet at the same time so obvious. Haven't they all been dealing with hallucinations for two whole weeks now? Didn't he talk about this exact possibility with Mitsuru - with both Mitsurus? It was so obvious from the beginning, so how could he do this?
Feeling nauseated, he steps back and lets go of the sword. It fades away to nothing, but it's too late. The damage has already been done.]
[He whirls around to face the smug asshole (of course he's fucking here, why wouldn't he be)]
No, I- I didn't-
[Didn't mean it? It was an accident? Even through the panic and confusion, he already knows any justifications are meaningless. Nothing can make this right.
Floe is dead. She's dead, and he killed her.
His stomach churns and threatens to out its contents, but he swallows hard to keep it down.]
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It's a funny thought, and she smiles a little as she straightens the winged carving upon the coral altar. Even though her path seems clearer than ever, the act does still feel irreverent, and she would be lying if she weren't slightly worried about all this. They knew all too well that 'Sol' was real and present. That he was probably watching them all through this very altar, if not the whole campground. This could potentially be a very, very stupid idea, a grievous offense that would see him striking her down before she could get a word in edgewise.
("Is it okay for you to pray in another religion's chapel?")
Sol isn't related to Tempus Spatium the way Animus was, but she hopes he'll forgive her for the unorthodox setup this time. This is for him too, after all.
She takes a step back, looking it over once more before she kneels. The black, heavy robes pool around her as she crosses both arms over her chest and exhales, long and slow. Steadying. Flying came naturally, but she was never so good at praying this way. ]
Lord Sol, please forgive my intrusion. I am a stranger to you, and I carry my own God with me into your house. But I'm not here to trespass against you...only to reach out. We...we want to help you. All of the campers. We want to find a way to end this cycle once and for all. But we need your help in return. We've learned a lot, but there's still so much more we need to know. About you, about the people behind this. The people that are hurting you. We need to know so we can make them stop! I don't know if this will mean anything. Maybe it's pointless. But I have to try. This whole thing is wrong, and I think...you know it. I think you want this to end as much as anyone. At...at least, I hope so.
Just...if you can hear me. If there is anything you can do, anything at all...if you can just give me a clue. Please tell me. I'm listening. I'll hear it.
Please...
no subject
Instead, while he was walking through the lodge, he saw something strange. A black, goopy trail leading across the rec room floor - it only took him a glance to recognise it as the mud that had poured from the Grail on that day months ago. There was no reason for it to be here, and a part of him immediately recognised that he might be hallucinating, but... what if it was real, somehow? He couldn't leave that be.
Which is why he is now stepping cautiously into the chapel, not sure what to expect. He sees a figure in black kneeling by the altar, and for a moment thinks he sees someone harmless who could reasonably be there. Then his vision shifts and the figure takes on the unmistakeable form of Kirei Kotomine.]
...What are you doing here?
[There's no way it can be him. He's dead, right? Shirou had driven the Azoth dagger into his heart on that day. But then, life and death don't mean much in this place. The people that brought them here are known to employ the insane and dangerous. It all fits.]
no subject
It's enough to make her uncomfortable, on top of everything else, but she stays calm for now, not standing up or turning to look at him as she responds. ]
Isn't it obvious?
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If Kotomine's here, they could all be in even worse danger than before. Shirou had never understood his motives even at the end, but he'd clearly taken delight in death and suffering. He'd tried to use the Grail to destroy humanity. And - he'd hurt Illya and Tohsaka. That last memory, more than anything else, makes anger and fear fill his mind.
He can't let Kotomine roam around freely in this camp, especially not tonight. And with someone like that, stopping him peacefully isn't an option. Hell, maybe it could even count as the death required by the ritual? That way nobody else would have to die.
As he's frantically justifying the urge to kill the man he hates, he finds himself already activating his magic circuit and running through the steps of projection magic. Silently, a knife appears in his hand. All he has to do now is bring it down...
But he can't. Even if it's someone he has to kill, he can't just stab them in the back. He wants to be a better person than that, right? So, instead:]
Are you going to look at me, at least?
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Interrupting someone in prayer is very rude, you know-!
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As soon as Kotomine (is it actually him? or someone else-) turns around, Shirou's already driving the dagger into his heart. Don't leave him time to draw a weapon of his own or cast a spell, just get it over with.
He definitely hits the right spot, he's sure of it, but strangely the feel of it is all wrong. He just can't quite figure out why.]
1/2
Not that it matters where exactly it hits, because it does the job. At least she manages to scream...doesn't she? She's sure she must be screaming, mouth gaping wide, but if any sound actually escapes she can't hear it through her own shock. She falls back against the altar without a struggle, vision already going black from the pain.
God, she hopes she screamed. ]
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She doesn't black out. It's only a few seconds later - though it feels like much longer - but against all logic, she feels her cheek stitching up somehow, the wound receding and reversing until it's nearly gone. Floe inhales sharply, almost heaving from the unfamiliar sensation as she scrabbles back against the alter, desperation to get away winning over her confusion. ]
no subject
[The wound's healing? The priest's... face? No, that can't be right - his chest is healing.
That's not a power that he should have. Even if he was infected with the stone, that wouldn't be right.
A feeling of panic washes over the anger. It's far stronger than the sudden turn merits, but it mixes right in with the paranoia and surprise and overwhelms him. He's got to move before the enemy recovers enough for a counterattack.
Another stab of the dagger, close to the first one. This time, for sure-!]
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Her hand, groping blindly across the coral surface of the altar behind her, comes into contact with a different sort of stone.
She grits her teeth, fingers curling around the shaft of the statue and immediately hefting it up. She throws all her weight into the swing- up and around, aimed as squarely as she can at his head.]
no subject
He stabs once more, and once more the wound just heals itself. The dagger isn't working.
That's not a problem, though. If one weapon fails, all he has to do is imagine one that will work.
The dagger falls to the ground, abandoned, and a broadsword takes its place in his hand. He'll make sure the next attack ends this fight.]
no subject
World: KP71
Danger level: 2
Outside of her mech she’s not so dangerous.
"There must be some mistake. Everyone knows that a Simoun can't be shot down."
The statue glances off him almost like it's nothing. She sees blood and for a second she hopes, prays that it will slow him down, but he just keeps coming at her, seemingly more determined than ever. She feels the knife again, the blinding pain, choking on her own blood, and then the healing, but...slower now, struggling to keep up with his blows. At some point the broken carving slips out of her hand, and she hears the dagger clatter to the ground alongside it and she prays...
But this is Sol's chapel, not Tempus Spatium's. Her prayers won't be heard in a place like this.
She does scream, this time, for sure.]
no subject
He freezes for a second, staring down at what he's done to her face. It's so absurd, yet at the same time so obvious. Haven't they all been dealing with hallucinations for two whole weeks now? Didn't he talk about this exact possibility with Mitsuru - with both Mitsurus? It was so obvious from the beginning, so how could he do this?
Feeling nauseated, he steps back and lets go of the sword. It fades away to nothing, but it's too late. The damage has already been done.]
no subject
Congratulations. You've killed your first defenseless human.
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No, I- I didn't-
[Didn't mean it? It was an accident? Even through the panic and confusion, he already knows any justifications are meaningless. Nothing can make this right.
Floe is dead. She's dead, and he killed her.
His stomach churns and threatens to out its contents, but he swallows hard to keep it down.]
Why didn't you stop me?