[center] [img] https://i.imgur.com/K9dXELV.png [/img] [/center] [h3][center] Divine Descending Denouement (DDD) Hot Spring, Benita’s Room, Foreigner’s Lowlands [/center][/h3] [@Breo] [@addamas] The sun had set. The day was over. And unfortunately for Benita, she had been greatly harmed in the previous engagement. A stab through the chest, which was not a lot in regards to a magus as herself, was something that would be considered “painful”. Her wound had been healed rather quickly due to this. A battle between two people in the Grail War. A battle between two Magi. Benita would not have been so amicable to protecting Sofia after she had lost her Servant in the event that someone had not asked her to do so. Breaking bread with an enemy was something that Benita was familiar with, perhaps even fond of. She had fond memories of her Sisters, after all, regardless of what sort of battle they would be forced to fight in order to claim the Legacy of her Father. The conflict was also one born out of misunderstanding. Perhaps, then, it made sense that Sofia would come to hate Benita for her actions, and Benita would accept that as a suitable punishment. If not for Achilles’ request, it was likely that they would have continued to fight until someone was to fall, regardless of who it might have been. But Benita had come to respect her Servant as a partner. However, a stab to the chest was the least of her worries. “Something” had occurred. “Something” inconceivable that Benita still didn’t believe it had occurred. Perhaps it would be better to say that she simply did not wish that it was real. A denial of reality would be the easiest way to cope with this. Perhaps if the young homunculus did not have a mission to complete in the Grail War, she would have been on the first boat out of here just like “that man”. At first, it was merely a whisper. Rumors of impossibility through the grapevine that she had learned through the contacts of hers throughout the world. And so the sun rose again, bring about high noon once more. “Ugh, this always happens when I drink wine,” the groggy little lady said as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. At least three bottles of wine, empty and occasionally rolling on the ground due to the slightest provocation. Perhaps Benita should have been more careful to clean the room she made for herself. Even if it had only been a few hours in the room, it had various items thrown about in a slobbish manner. And yet it had only been a few hours. Benita herself felt sickly. She hardly resisted the urge to shutdown herself, close her blinders, and continue sleeping on her bed, though the pressing issues were, well, pressing. She could no longer afford to shutdown anymore. If this was only a few years ago ... If it had been only a few months ago … If it had been only a few days ago ... If it had been only a few hours ago … Benita would not have cared about her potential annihilation. She was drinking to celebrate, regret, and to cope all at the same time. She was a doll created for an express purpose. Someone who was bound to her fate and fated to accomplish this goal regardless of their thoughts or agency. Even if she no longer was willing to die for this cause like she had been so willing to do previously when she had first entered the city, a familiar “something” gnawed at her person. Perhaps she wanted to leave. But if there was one thing that Benita Garibaldi, one of the many Inheritors of the Legacy, wasn’t was a liar. She would not leave the Grail unless ordered to. After all, once a mercenary takes a mission, it would be against their code to revoke their guarantee. Benita would win the Grail for the Matou line, and then she would continue on her life, regardless of how short it might be. “This city is cold, especially when I’m all alone here.” A wave of melancholy washed over Benita as she considered her possibilities. She had existed for six years as a doll for this purpose. But the unwavering desire for the Grail was wavering bit by bit ever since she had begun her journey. Though it was occasionally wavering, she had decided that if she truly was to hold the sins of her actions to its natural conclusion, she would not be able ... "A 'personality' starts off as something like a cube. When you’re young, you clumsily bump corners against other people in the form of childish conflicts. Eventually, sharp edges are worn away to leave something like a sphere. That's more or less what people describe when they say someone's 'softened.' Moderate collisions with others help one mature. But when those first impacts are too strong, they can have a different effect: instead of losing corners little by little, you splinter in strange, harsh ways, warping into crooked shapes. Once crooked, it's hard to become a sphere. Even as the people around them mellow, their sharpness only grows harsher, and everyone who approaches ends up getting hurt. But even the most warped human beings started the same as everyone else. “‘Lancer Prime’”, Benita mused at her Servant, She had given him a temporary replacement for the time being, but that legendary spear was the weapon that gave him the right to be a heroic spirit of the Lancer-Class. Perhaps one could imagine losing his spear would be considered a rather devastating blow to one that would call themselves a “Lancer”. “You are to recover your spear today. Honestly, I don’t understand you Servants. You’d just leave around your toys anywhere you go?” It might not have been the wisest thing to provoke a heroic spirit, but to Benita, who perhaps understood two-fold the situations at hand, one being the loss of her Servant’s greatest armament, and the other being the potential annihilation of everyone in the city. “I’ll be trying to prevent us all from dying I guess. Time to save the world, one city at a time.” Less of a bold declaration and more of a dejected resignation to her fate. Looking down at her cabal’s contact device, Benita was embarrassed to see that the record of her transactions seemed to display the same contact several … dozen times. It was time to call “them” [hider=Dood] [img] https://i.imgur.com/taMpSd1.png [/img] “This is Jackal, I need to request something of you." “Honestly,” a voice called out from the receiver. Although it attempted to be calm, collected, and refined, it seemed almost strained as though the owner of the voice was under a lot of stress from working an office job for several decades and never getting that promotion they always wanted, even though they claim to deserve it more than that bitch in marketing. “What are you doing that is making me stay up ALL NIGHT doing this paperwork for the last 4 days that I should be aware of!? I don’t get paid overtime this is a salary job! Have some consideration.” And with that declaration, one could hear over the receiver the sound of something being tipped over, and with it came a pained, shrill voice of the lady in the penguin outfit make muffled yells of pain. “Ahhhhhhh, and now I have coffee stains on my suit. Do you realize how difficult it is to dry clean this thing? The looks I get when I send it in? I hardly want to pick up my own laundry anymore. I need a vacation, but UNFORTUNATELY, my vacation days got declined because someone just had to start a Grail War and I had to help them. But guess what, while I was doing the logistics of everything behind the scenes, they never even thought to call me once to say "Thank you, Miss Penny, for helping me out" or "Miss Penny sure works hard for me, better thank her" A loud thud is heard as the lady in the penguin suit slumps onto her desk. If she didn’t need sleep so badly, perhaps she would have been a lot less of a rambling mess of a person right now. But even so, Benita, or “Jackle” in this case, had caused her a lot of discomfort in the last 96 hours without even calling her. She was the only person in the entire “office”. Everyone else got their application for vacation approved except for her. It was no wonder she was so annoyed. She likely would have continued to ramble on in the event that no one was there to stop her. Hell, she probably would have continued to ramble in the event that no one was there to hear her. But eventually, Benita was able to convince her to actually submit her requests into the proper file. [/hider] Strange, penguin-like familiars began to fall from the sky from any location where there was a Master. Hopefully, these people would be nice to these cute, little guys. A single message was given to any of the Masters in the war, so long as they wished to see it. It simply read: GREETINGS MASTER AND/OR SERVANTS OF THE SECOND HOLY GRAIL WAR IN FUYUKI. DUE TO RECENT ISSUES REGARDING THE MAGES ASSOCIATION, I WOULD LIKE TO HOLD AN EMERGENCY MEETING IN ORDER TO RECTIFY THIS ISSUE. THE LOCATION SHALL BE IN THE DIVINE DESCENDING DENOUEMENT (DDD )HOTSPRINGS. I WOULD ASK THAT YOU ATTEND IN PERSON, HOWEVER INPUT REGARDLESS OF SOURCE WILL BE IMPORTANT. THIS MEETING WILL BE HELD AT SUNDOWN. BRING YOUR OWN BEER. [right] -Benita Garibaldi & Lancer [/right] ---------------------------------------- [center] [img] https://i.imgur.com/6TAqaQS.png [/img] [/center] [h3][center] A Loyal Wife at the Side of her Husband [/center][/h3] [@Crusader Lord] It should be noted that Gudrun was not the sort of person to act in the interests of others. In the event someone was dying before her, she could hardly begin to care for their well being if they were not someone she had a connection to. Perhaps, then, one could consider her a villainous individual, and indeed, this was the case. She was the murderer of several canon Germanic heroes if only because she wished to avenge her Husband’s murder. However, there was a loophole to this. If her husband asked her to do something, regardless of what it was, it was very likely that she would commit to this action, regardless of what sort of action he would have her do. After all, a loyal wife believed in the cause of her husband until the end, never deviating from his side. Always supporting him, and always cheering him on. “That man” was in this war, but he was irrelevant. Of course, her Husband could beat him with his hands tied behind his back, but he was something of a nuisance. After all, he had defeated that “other” Sigurd. But he would not lose to “her” Sigurd. “I finished healing this one, darling. I’d ask if you’d want to go on a date with me, but I think the entire city might be collapsing. Not very romantic getting ice cream together when there are people looting like they just found Fafnir’s treasure, huh?” Really, such a date probably would be fine with Gudrun, so long as she was with her darling. He was the man she gave her life avenging. Someone who she was obsessed with. Perhaps “that’ woman was a good spirit, but she could not fill the void that Sigurd left in her heart after he had died. In fact, she was responsible for “her” death in the end, if only to fulfill what she believed was “justice” on the side of her husband, even though it was unlikely that Sigurd wished for her to commit to such an evil act against people who were his friends. “If you want, we could just forget this city honey~ We could go have a date on the other side of you want. Forget about these people~. Who are they to you, anywho?”