[center][img]https://maestronet.com/forum/uploads/monthly_02_2015/post-25192-0-16992000-1424326458.jpg[/img]

[color=f7976a][h2][u]Franziska[/u][/h2]
[h3]Nikolic Compound, Third Night[/h3][/color]

[@floodtalon][@ReallyDumb][/center]

[hr]

She thought she had been doing the right thing. She really had. When she had appeared in the stranger's arms, she had felt so... sure. So certain. So in love. Something like this couldn't possibly be wrong, could it? It felt safe, and right, even when Vlado had a hole punched in his chest. She'd been sick to see it, sure, but she and her father were master bone-crafters. With enough time and effort, and quick enough reflexes, the boy would be right as rain. When her father's rage consumed him, she had stepped forth, taking on the sparks of his Noble Phantasm, taking the Breath of Life into herself. She had opened her mouth, to speak, to reassure. She was all right, she would say. Vlado would be all right. And Jack? Jack was a friend. More than a friend. Surely he could help them, surely they could come to a mutual arrangement? Surely--

And then Jack cleaved her father in two. Without a word. Without negotiation. Without any hope of resolution at all. In an instant, her father's corpse lay at her feet. Dead. Gone. Her brothers and sisters collapsing, like puppets loosed from their strings. The Igors shook their heads, as though shaking off some horrible dream, and left. And Franziska was left alone with a murderer.

He turned, regret in his eyes. As though he had the right to feel regret after what he'd done. She opened her mouth again. To scream? To rage and cry? To rip his throat out?

And then he spoke. Hells, that voice... her anger shattered, like spun glass before a sledgehammer. She couldn't be angry. She loved him, didn't she?

A shard of wrath lingered. And she tucked it away, somewhere deep inside her. Right next to the place she could feel thrumming with power- her father's last, unintentional gift to her. She looked up into his eyes- her beloved? Her most hated foe? She wasn't sure. But she would be. Soon. Or soon enough. She focused on the words he spoke, rather than that damned voice he spoke them in. 

[i]“I promise to make you happy.”[/i]

She felt the rage. She felt the lightning in her breast.

And she smiled.

[color=f7976a][i]I'll hold you to that promise... [b]Jack.[/b][/i][/color]

[hr]

[center][color=8882be][h2][u]Suzaku Kirishima[/u][/h2]
[h3]Fuyuki Church, Third Night[/h3][/color][/center]

[@floodtalon][@Reflection][@Scallop][@Yukitamas][@Kyoka]

[hr]

Suzaku shook his head as he looked at the hole in the stained glass window his Servant's... [i]paramour[/i] (Christ, just imagining it made his stomach turn) had left on their hasty exit. He grit his teeth, trying to think of calming things, trying to quell the rage and the anxiety that swelled in his chest. Unfortunately, his usual method of calming himself would be to go out and kill things. Considering the only targets within range were all allies... that avenue was counterproductive to the extreme. So, he compromised, and went for a joke.

[color=8882be]"Waste of damn good art,"[/color] he mused, ruefully lighting up another cigarette. [color=8882be]"She did see that the door was open, didn't she?"[/color]

It helped. Marginally.

...Up until Xerxes came up from behind and started addressing some... very accurate assessments that Suzaku himself had made about his Servant. Suzaku took a long drag on his cigarette, sighing out the smoke with frustration.

[color=8882be]"I don't like this. I don't like [i]her.[/i] Tesla isn't likely to be caught off guard by her again, but... damn it all, this isn't right. It's not [i]sane.[/i] I don't think we have anything to worry about from Tesla himself- he's been loyal, so far. But that..."
[/color] He grit his teeth, searching for words he didn't have. [color=8882be]"...That... [i]thing...[/i] if he loses control of her again, we're done for. She's too powerful for us to stop on our own. Conventionally, anyhow. But I have a plan. All I have to do is look at this from a... different angle."[/color]

He turned to Xerxes, a grim fire in his eyes. [color=8882be]"I don't relish being so underhanded, but I am a hunter. And a hunter must hunt with wits and cleverness, not brute strength. Tesla may not enjoy what I'm planning, but I have to keep my options open. So, I need a favor from you- keep an eye, an ear out, for the Master of... that one. Should Tesla's leash on her loosen... we will do what we must. He can have his dalliance for now, but I am not about to let this alliance be threatened by his insanity."[/color]

[hr]

Miraculously, things then proceeded to get [i]even worse.[/i]

Suzaku's fingers twitched as he lifted yet another cigarette to his lips, watching the Fantasy Tree- the reincarnation of Yggdrasill- rise into the sky.

Somehow, he was sure this was Tesla's fault.

Regardless of who was the initiator of this new nightmare, it did not change the fact that this war had officially gone from bad to worse. A power like that, a seed of the Age of Gods, was an unprecedented occurrence. He could feel the Leylines beneath his feet, twisting and writhing and cascading toward this new... abomination. He could feel reality shifting around it. Changing. Transforming.

If that tree was allowed to flourish, it could spell the end. Of everything. All of reality swept up in a whirlwind, a hurricane of creation and destruction, until only Primordial Chaos remained.

[color=8882be][i]...Not if I can help it.[/i]

"Ludwig."[/color] His voice was loud, clear, and calm, lacking the same kind of panic he'd possessed earlier. [color=8882be]"Inject the draugr I showed you earlier, in the manner which we discussed. Xerxes, help me prepare the Draugr Delivery System. We won't have a better opportunity- [i]we're killing that fucking tree.[/i]"[/color]