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ACCOUNTABILITY.
[The sound of footsteps is slow, but deliberate and without hesitation. And as they echo through the room he walks into view lacking fear, lacking hesitance, lacking...much of anything at all.]
[He's tall--perhaps taller than his profile had implied--wide-shouldered and built like an unbreakable fortress wall, wearing the solid black of a priest; the light catches a gold cross around his neck to confirm the fact. And as he steps forward, his long coat (the deep purple of poisons and nightshade itself) trails behind him before coming to a stop as he does.]
[A smile cut across his gaunt and pale face, but it was far from a pleasant one. It was the enigmatic smile of someone witnessing a joke only they found humorous, and yet it did not reach the dark and emotionless eyes that scanned the room briefly as though the priest was carefully calculating what course of action to take.]
At last we meet face to face, my Apprentices.
[The voice that leaves him is recognizable as the same one that was heard only moments before, but clearer in person. Now it seems to ring like the largest, deepest bells of Notre Dame itself, no louder than an ordinary speaking tone--the result sounds more like distant thunder heralding an oncoming hurricane.]
[The real difference lies not in how he speaks, but what he says. The short, impersonal sentences of the weeks prior are at last discarded, and the man before them speaks as a true preacher--a true wordsmith--would address his congregation.]
Rejoice and be proud of your accomplishments. Each and every last one of your number, dead or alive, has truly exceeded all expectations I had for this group. And now you have clawed and scratched your way here, on the backs of your fallen friends' struggles and failures. You have proven that their own accomplishments would not be in vain simply by standing here before me--I do not doubt that your success is the wish most of them held in their hearts, at the very end of their lives.
[He places a hand over his own heart, taking on a tone that nearly sounds genuinely proud...until a patronizing current begins to run through each syllable like a deadly undertow.]
Do you perhaps feel satisfied? You would be right to, for making it so far. Your sorrow, desperation, joy, determination...all of it has been a magnificent thing to behold as you fought to reach this point in time. Each second of it has served its purpose, and served it very well. I am one who believes such struggling and effort deserves to be rewarded, and so this alongside my own endless gratitude is what I will grant you in return for all that you have done for me.
My name is Kirei Kotomine.
[He holds his arms out slightly to his sides, a gesture that would almost seem welcoming if 'Kageshirou' did not react and coil--completely harmlessly--around his arms like a black serpent. The smile he wore turned to a razor-edged smirk, the challenge set before the remaining Apprentices clear even without his next words:]
And now that we have properly met, tell me: shall we continue our discussion?
[He's tall--perhaps taller than his profile had implied--wide-shouldered and built like an unbreakable fortress wall, wearing the solid black of a priest; the light catches a gold cross around his neck to confirm the fact. And as he steps forward, his long coat (the deep purple of poisons and nightshade itself) trails behind him before coming to a stop as he does.]
[A smile cut across his gaunt and pale face, but it was far from a pleasant one. It was the enigmatic smile of someone witnessing a joke only they found humorous, and yet it did not reach the dark and emotionless eyes that scanned the room briefly as though the priest was carefully calculating what course of action to take.]
At last we meet face to face, my Apprentices.
[The voice that leaves him is recognizable as the same one that was heard only moments before, but clearer in person. Now it seems to ring like the largest, deepest bells of Notre Dame itself, no louder than an ordinary speaking tone--the result sounds more like distant thunder heralding an oncoming hurricane.]
[The real difference lies not in how he speaks, but what he says. The short, impersonal sentences of the weeks prior are at last discarded, and the man before them speaks as a true preacher--a true wordsmith--would address his congregation.]
Rejoice and be proud of your accomplishments. Each and every last one of your number, dead or alive, has truly exceeded all expectations I had for this group. And now you have clawed and scratched your way here, on the backs of your fallen friends' struggles and failures. You have proven that their own accomplishments would not be in vain simply by standing here before me--I do not doubt that your success is the wish most of them held in their hearts, at the very end of their lives.
[He places a hand over his own heart, taking on a tone that nearly sounds genuinely proud...until a patronizing current begins to run through each syllable like a deadly undertow.]
Do you perhaps feel satisfied? You would be right to, for making it so far. Your sorrow, desperation, joy, determination...all of it has been a magnificent thing to behold as you fought to reach this point in time. Each second of it has served its purpose, and served it very well. I am one who believes such struggling and effort deserves to be rewarded, and so this alongside my own endless gratitude is what I will grant you in return for all that you have done for me.
My name is Kirei Kotomine.
[He holds his arms out slightly to his sides, a gesture that would almost seem welcoming if 'Kageshirou' did not react and coil--completely harmlessly--around his arms like a black serpent. The smile he wore turned to a razor-edged smirk, the challenge set before the remaining Apprentices clear even without his next words:]
And now that we have properly met, tell me: shall we continue our discussion?
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[Again, Kirei seemed as though he was having trouble processing that.]
You can not condemn me and spare Avenger in the same breath. Why would you even pretend to show it sympathy?
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[Which isn't a very solid reason, really, but Silver's a simple person that's ruled by his emotions.]
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[Kirei actually scowled at that as though the idea alone was making him angry and he was struggling to repress it. The shadows around him flickered again, independent of Avenger itself.]
You can not save something from its intended purpose. No matter what...no matter what it feels about its actions, it is going to commit them all the same! It doesn't know any other way to live and neither do I!
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I don't believe you've ever tried to find another way to live. Or perhaps never been given a chance.
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It was all for nothing. The first time in my life I ever truly laughed and felt happy from the bottom of my heart was when I saw a disaster ravaging the land before me. For twenty-eight years prior I struggled and clawed my way to find something 'normal' about myself, and all I found was void emptiness and a complete lack of emotion.
Don't you dare tell me I didn't try.
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What about disaster brings you happiness?
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The people here saved me from my intended purpose.
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If I fight again, I'll fight for me!
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[She's calm. And smiling.]
There was once a woman...who had lost her way. Who, honestly, had been made a tool by fate to kill and destroy, and to die. By all means it was her purpose to do so. And though...I do not like this woman, for the suffering she caused, I forgave her and reached out my hand. ...As did others. It saved her.
Maybe not alone...but people can save each other from what they are made to do, forced to do, by things outside their control! Fate is not absolute! It is not determined! It's...it's as thin as a gold fish scooper, and it can be broken!
It is not its fate, nor yours to be this way.
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[Lusamine does not know all of her memories, except for some from secondhand telling from Guzma. Yet, when she speaks...]
People change. Even aspects of life itself, I wager, can change. We all have, in our own ways, and there is absolutely nothing to suggest that you cannot either. Nothing but stubborn insistence.
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But like. You could... be a dentist? Make romhacks? Host those weird game shows they have in Johto and Kanto that are all about suffering?
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[...He's wearing his team skull shirt under his (open) jacket right now GO BOSS-]
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[Yeah no, she's the only one allowed to be a jerk to Guzma, how very dare?]
The differences between the both of you are vast, and I will not hear you say such things.
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...
Not gonna say I only ever enjoyed destruction, though. So I can't totally relate. I was just kind of loud and rambunctious and stubborn.
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[...]
Believe me, I would know.
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But if you're constantly given the impression that there's something wrong inside you instead of getting redirected to something that isn't, you know, terrible and horrendously destructive, then you just sort of give up and go for it.
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[... like sorry guzma but you kinda are.]
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