trusthell | 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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't know. I mean, he seems like he mostly just wants the thing to exist and be able to do its thing instead of go on a merry murder romp everywhere.

[this seems awfully familiar]

Same difference, is it not? It's 'thing', so to speak, could be fueled by something like this.

Yeah. But like... I guess the question is why he'd need souls from all over the multiverse instead of just getting some people from where he's from? Unless he can't for some reason.

...Could he have possibly sacrificed people from his own world, to start the first of these? And perhaps he needs more souls to compensate for those he uses to drag us in...

[...man, his guess is as good as hers? Maybe he just wants to drive people into despair and ran out of fun things to do at home.

She doesn't know man.]

...

[Kirei didn't say anything, but that smirk reappeared for just a brief second.]

...

Okay. You... were all about that self-actualization via death, which the... separation of the soul and the body or some shit.

...I mean, we're separated from our worlds, so does that make us higher quality souls?

You're holding far too much stock in the philosophy itself. It's true what's being theorized, though--I needed souls, and this world's supply is limited.

I had to find other methods to acquire them.

...how the fuck many souls does this fucking thing need.

Ordinarily, it requires seven--but those seven are well beyond any human limitations.

To substitute those with the souls and emotions of mere humans, I required quite a lot more. Which is why all of you are here.

...okay. So like. If those exist... here-ish, how the hell was it easier to drag us here instead of getting seven of these super special souls.

Because I did not have the means to summon or maintain them. In a way that would be humorous in its inconvenience, it was easier to find a miracle than it was to do this the 'correct' way.

Yeah. So. I guess we've gotta figure out this miracle because you couldn't get your... I don't know, legendary Pokemon or whatever.

[ . . . ]

So the books on travel between universes, it was about bringing us here as opposed to you leaving?

It would be inefficient to leave. Transportation between universes takes quit a lot, Elda Marker; I do not believe I could have something like Avenger cross such boundaries.

[ Exhale. ]

Kirei, are you al alchemist or magician? You are apparently a holy man, but we've yet to account for those circles that Jasper found. Could those be related to this travel between worlds?

Actually, yes. Alchemy was never a field I was particularly well versed in, but I was taught a wide range of magic.

So I contest those circles they found were magic circles, though I cannot yet work out the purpose.

You contest correctly. That circle was of my own making, but it was not made to channel my own magic.

It was made for Shirou.

[ Her nostrils flair at that but- no, no, keep her head.

Squeeze Hanyuu's hand. ]

If they were in that room, with attempts to make weapons...

Is he somehow connected to those swords that killed Angela and Milla?

No. Those swords were mine.

[To prove it, he took a single red handle from his coat; with a brief flash of blue light, a very long and thin blade appeared, attached to it.]

Shirou's blades were different.

Edited 2017-03-25 20:45 (UTC)

[ What the fuck ]

So what purpose did Shirou's serve you?

(no subject)

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[Well, she'll eventually look back over in Kirei's direction--she won't have caught the smirk, but...]

Would that be a correct assessment? That in order to keep these running, the souls of the previous must be sacrificed. Perhaps a certain amount?

[She...catches the smirk Kirei has and bites her lip.]

So that's...why we are here. Why he needs us...to keep providing fuel for Angra Mainyu. Because he has no other people left to sacrifice.

[ . . . ]

Let's stay on that assumption for a while.

There's two options with that. First, that the "quality" of souls, either for the purposes of being viable fuel or for his own amusement isn't sufficient. The other, and perhaps worse, is that the "quantity" wasn't sufficient.

... Which would imply there is no one left from his original world.

[about that...]

Edited 2017-03-25 20:30 (UTC)