✧ black faction.

[aesfiore-blog]

✧      “---- !!!”   The pain came suddenly. It didn’t feel like it was supposed to. It felt like burning through her right shoulder, and then she hit the ground face first, elbows grinding against the ground as she pushed herself up to inspect the damage. The first thought that came to mind was where is Saber. He was seeking Archer somewhere... so he had to be nearby, right? If he was, though, Archer wouldn’t have been able to shoot her like that.

Her Manipulators crumpled around her protectively within a second of her hitting the ground, but another set of arrows shot through them, breaking the joints and scattering large sheets of ragged metal across the pavement. 

Fiore raised her hand to command the Manipulators to her. Even if separated from her body, she could still control them. She tried to command them to fire, but they only twitched weakly in response to her. She was grounded on the street without her best defense and offense and her Servant was busy somewhere else... This wasn’t good. Fiore understood well what this could mean. The wild thought that Saber had abandoned her crossed her mind --- and a sudden fear that she might very well die right now if Saber didn’t arrive settled in her stomach.

Fiore tried to sit herself up on her back to face the direction that the arrows had come from, weakly raising her struck arm to defend herself if she could, and another arrow appeared in front of her, faster than anything she imagined a Magus could muster, and struck her in the gut, forcing her onto her back again, the tail end sticking out of her like a flag of victory. Blood began to pool around her and she turned her head to the side, reaching out again to try to call her Manipulators to her, still only weakly clanking in response to her.    { @leorexfilius.

[aesfiore-blog]

leorexfilius‌:

The knight shifted, his gaze sharpening and focusing on the reflection of his Master in the glass. She looked regretful, and from what he knew of her, she probably was. He’d never known her to be the conniving or manipulative type - he’d thought her different than other magi, a young woman with a good heart, whom he could trust beyond the confines of the Grail they still sought-

But how much of her did he know?

How much of her was hidden away from him, depths that he couldn’t understand? Like maggots worming their way beneath the skin of a corpse, hidden from sight only to burst out when disturbed?

The mug clinked quietly on the ledge he sat upon as he shifted his weight, letting his feet touch the floor with a muted tread. Turning his body to face her, the Knight of Treachery still kept his eyes downcast upon a patch of floor, though his stare might have bored holes in the ground, so intense it was.

“Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia.”

His voice was as calm as it had been earlier, but now bore a solemnness that hadn’t been there before. And only now, when he spoke her name, did his eyes settle upon hers, devoid of the joy they normally showed in his presence.

“We can never go back to the way we were.

I thought of you as less a Master and more a friend. You were someone I thought I could trust. A magus who had a heart. But you have the same disrespect for life that she did. That so many other magi do. Those beliefs are deeply ingrained within you, as you said. That means you would discard those lives without a second thought, as she did with me. You’re one step away from becoming just like her.”

He took a deep breath then, and let it out in an exhale that shuddered just a little bit, ever so slightly, keeping his emotions in check before they could betray him. She deserved an answer, at least.

“I cannot trust someone like that.”

“I swore an oath to be your Servant. That, I will fulfill. Your wish will see the light of the Grail. Your legs will be healed. But after that, we will again go our separate ways. And I will be beholden to you no longer.

Do you have anything else you want to say, Master?”

✧     Fiore’s lashes lowered slightly in a minor wince when his mug hit the stone of the sill, and she kept her eyes on her lap even a moment longer when he said her name, too timid to look up. She feared that if she may do so, she may begin to cry, and such wouldn’t be appropriate. There was a familiar old burning sensation in the back of her throat, though, and at the bridge of her nose. She felt like a child, she was so ashamed and embarrassed. Still, she had to at least summon some modicum of spine. She looked up just in time for him to break her heart.

We can never go back to the way we were.

Mordred was so calm as he stabbed her with knives disguised as words. With each syllable, she could feel herself crumpling down inside, though she remained sitting straight up. Her stomach felt sick. A tingling numbness began in her toes and worked their way up her legs. He accused her of being a step away from turning into the monster he had described... and Fiore’s bottom lip began to tremble. Mordred was doing so well at keeping his emotions at bay; at the present moment, Fiore could not say the same.

Oh, goodness... Oh, no... The burning at the back of her throat transformed into a pink in her nose and cheeks and a welling up of wetness in her eyes. Fiore was embarrassed; she hated that she was starting to cry, but she couldn’t make her body stop. She tried to take a deep and silent breath through her nose, not wanting him to notice that she was trying desperately to stop herself from crying, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her distress.

She didn’t want him to be her Servant. She didn’t want to be his Master. That wasn’t how their relationship had been; they had been friends. Genuine friends. He irked her from time to time and surely she annoyed him on occasion, but they had been friends. She couldn’t bear the thought of him considering himself only a Servant to her... a tool to be discarded once the goal was achieved.

Did she have anything else to say? She knew that if she spoke, the levees would break and her words would come out tumbling, gushing with tears and uneven breathes. How juvenile of her, unable to control herself. Fiore took another breath through her nose, hoping the action would calm her heart rate and perhaps she could stop the waterworks before they really began. 

If this was what he wanted... ... ... 

Fiore’s hands slowly departed her lap to reach for the wheels of her wheelchair, and she turned herself slowly around, pausing for a moment to think. Before she could stop herself, she raised her left hand and used a finger to wipe the tears out of her eyes, not wanting him to see her weakness. If she was going to be his Master, she couldn’t be demonstrating weakness in front of him. A friend would have that privilege, and they were no longer friends. A deep breath and a straightening out of her emotions. She could do this. She could be just as unemotional as he was. Since that was what he wanted. 

“No, Saber...,” she answered quietly and with a tone of professionalism well-practiced throughout her life. Fiore pushed her wheelchair away from him to leave. “I’ll leave you be until we have work to do.”

[aesfiore-blog]

leorexfilius‌:

The words hung in the air for a few long moments, and for the longest time it seemed as if the Knight of Treachery wouldn’t respond, mired as he was in the sight of the storm raging outside. 

It would have been poetic to say that it matched his inner turmoil, but the truth of the matter was that he was calm now - far calmer than he’d ever been. Oh, the ache of betrayal still throbbed, of course, but it was dull and muted, and it was easy to lose it in the realm of the physical - the warmth in his hands and cold stone against his back and the soothing sound of the rain pelting the glass.

Rain. He’d always liked rain.

“What for?”

He didn’t turn to look at her, and he didn’t raise his voice. It was frighteningly casual, with an utter lack of urgency or venom or even his usual drawl - as was the quiet gulp of hot cocoa he took immediately after. 

“You said your piece, and I said mine. We’re both clear on where we stand now, aren’t we?”

✧     Mordred was so calm. It was deeply unsettling to Fiore. In the sense that a teacher or an adult being disappointed with a child always hurt worse than them saying they were mad, Mordred being so calm when Fiore knew she had hurt him stuck like a knife in her. He might still be hurt, but from what she could tell, he was over it. Resigned to what had happened, no longer giving active thought to it. Everything between them had vanished into thin air. All those months of being trapped together by fate, gone.

Fiore looked down into her lap, at her fingers that were slowly fiddling against themselves. She was completely the type to avoid conflict as much as possible, but this had to be resolved. 

“Mordred, Caules and I were raised in a magus household and therefore, certain prejudices were ingrained into us. We were taught to not think of homunculi as people. It just... surprised me... when I learned you were originally a homunculus. I just... never thought of you that way. I didn’t know how to respond...”

Was he still not looking at her? Fiore wouldn’t know. Her eyes hadn’t left her lap. Gosh, the rain was so loud.

“I really am sorry... I... can see how what I said would be upsetting and offensive...”  Typically homunculi weren’t independent enough or self-aware enough to think of themselves as actual people, so treating them as magical tools bore no consequences. The legendary Morgan Le Fay was far more talented than the Yggmillennia when it came to creating homunculi, clearly. “I just want to go back to how we were.”

[aesfiore-blog]

burdensword‌:

♛  ///  FIORE.

✧     Fiore smiled at the king excusing her curiosity — it was very kind of Saber to insist no one was at fault. Fiore wanted to tread very carefully with Servants until she learned more about them. It went without saying that Servants were extremely powerful beings, and Fiore had no intentions to cause quarrel with any — especially not allies, and especially not allies who would one day be enemies. One never knew the temperament of a person and it was better to be gentle than to accidentally insult them with boldness. Plus… Fiore was simple a respectful girl.

She listened to Saber’s concerns attentively before looking over the darkened gardens, taking her time in contemplation before she finally answered. Fiore was not one to answer immediately with her first thoughts. Fiore turned her bright blue hues back to Saber to look at her while she answered.

“We can’t be certain, but we can trust that they won’t. The Black Faction is united. A traitor in the ranks would be detrimental to the very reason that the Black Faction exists — as a place for wayward mages to go outside the realm of the Mages’ Association. We’re as close to a family as one can be without being blood related,”  she answered. “There can be no promises that one in our ranks will not turn on us. However, it would weaken our Faction as a whole if someone did.”

“And if the Black Faction cracks from within, then it cannot hope to defeat the united Red Faction — and if we cannot defeat the Red Faction, then we will not be able to hold our subsequent Holy Grail War after the Red Faction’s defeat. The promise of achieving the Grail and therefore a wish should be enough incentive for all on the Black side to remain loyal to the Black side until the Red side is defeated. If honor and integrity is not enough, let greed cement us together.”

Furthermore… Fiore continued, commenting on something that Saber had said that struck her as odd, softening her voice and raising a quizzical brow, “… It’s strange that you said you recall that seven Servants fight in a Grail War. Did you simply mean to say that the Grail is informing you that Grail Wars are typically seven Servants? Surely you don’t remember it; Servants lose their memories after they die. Otherwise… well… it would be a terrible existence to live, fight, and die, over and over again. But yes — this Grail War is out of the ordinary in a thousand ways.”

          【♛】—— Such confidence for someone to speak before the King on a cause is truly inspiring in itself. She appears fragile though rises up her feet through the mere words she spill. The King of Knights would attempt at putting her faith onto everything the Master spoke of. History itself refuses to severe ties away from what ended up occurring for being blind. Being trust-worthy of an entire group in full to only be deceived by one treachery … by god, the King hoped they wouldn’t meet again. Regardless, it wouldn’t hesitate Excalibur from piercing through the enemy that is Red Faction. She won’t refuse those orders by her very master until they finish this battle; that much is certain. Yet there lies less reliance before the other servants among her ranks. As kindred of a soul and honest Fiore comes out to prove, emerald hues haste to gaze over the girl and resume facing to the distance. Even their conversation would be cut short of recalling her duties to keep an eye out for any intruders. ❝  I can comprehend the meaning behind a traitor among our ranks, Fiore. True my worries may be for nothing but the certainty cannot be dismissed for being together with six other Servants. Things have changed ever since my former participation with the Grail War.  ❞

          Pausing briefly, SABER encloses those eyes to ponder of those memories that wish to scatter. They are vivid like droplets of rain casting its shadow upon her country … all those hardships. She certainly was trapped but can’t help to wonder about this girl’s destiny as well. Was it wise to possess a kind soul within a war? Those brief moments of strength could grant the capabilities of a Master’s fighting spirit but it wasn’t enough. Exposing emerald hues, the King turns a gaze over her direction though appears saddened in some manner. ❝  To think this is how you feel about everything … Fiore, you would not have regrets once the Red Faction is defeated? Even our time together may be worth nothing as it shatters to have our swords cross.  ❞ Saddening as it rings to the King’s ear, it must be the case someday.

          It may have been careless for the King to have brought up a matter that shouldn’t be though it can’t be helped. Eventually her own Master would realize there was a problem within the essence dwelling inside this fragile body. There escapes a faint smile to cast away the cruelty she stated ——— Yes … it would be a terrible existence to remember of … living, fighting, dying over and over again because … you failed … yes, I do know it well Fiore. A burden the King of Knights carried yet she dares to continue forming a broken smile until the bitter end. She’ll return until achieving the miracle she sought for the sake of her country. ❝  You could say I am ‘ different among other Servants ’ for one reason. There have been two other wars I have participated in … I can remember the ones I fought, even the masters who formed a contract with me. My entire existence is but one that proves a little troublesome. As you can see …  ❞ Briefly, the King discards her armor that protected her fragile body to expose a unique blue dress in full. A hand extends out to grasp hold of hers, letting it settle around her chest region. Strange for a Heroic Spirit to possess this great warmth, a scent … and even capable of breathing like any regular human. Try as she may SABER couldn’t cast away her presence and remains being simple enough to gaze. ❝  I cannot dematerialize like any Servant should. This is due to my True Name and those origins that brought this kind of circumstance. I would say but my Master has forbidden me from saying.  ❞

✧     Ooh... As gentle an expression as the woman knight wore, Fiore’s eyes still fell in sadness and timidity to look out over the gardens when Saber brought her gaze to her and reminded her that their swords would (hopefully) cross one day. Indeed, if the Red Faction was defeated, then the plan was for the Black Faction to continue their Grail War on their own --- which meant that Archer and Saber would be at odds. Fiore liked to think that the Yggdmillennia would be able to carry out their Grail War respectfully, but war was war. Saber would be her enemy... and as much as Fiore admired her, respected her, and wished to attain attributes like hers one day, she would be wiser to maintain an emotional distance from Saber. Otherwise, Fiore knew full well that she was soft of heart and it would pain her greatly to go to war against her. With the Grail at stake, Saber would have every reason in the world to plunge her sword into Fiore’s chest if necessary. It’d be easier to kill Fiore than Archer, after all.

Fiore was grateful when Saber continued and graciously permitted her to not have to answer her previous words. At the mention that Saber remembered previous wars, Fiore had to look over at her. Confusion colored the girl’s face --- that wasn’t how Servants were supposed to be. As terrible an existence as Fiore had just explained, Saber was living it. 

Fiore let her hand be taken by Saber, at which point a small blush settled on her cheeks when Saber pressed it to her chest. The blush was not only the result of a great hero suddenly holding her fragile hand, but because... goodness, Saber seemed to be actually breathing. She was warm. Fiore could have sworn that Saber was in a living body, no different from her own. And again, Fiore’s curiosity over who Saber was piqued... but she couldn’t ask. It wouldn’t be right to ask.

“Saber... You... Forgive me if this is forward or insensitive... but you feel alive,”  answered Fiore, with a furrow of her brows and a slight shimmer of pity in her eyes. Was Saber somehow summoned with a living body? That was... tragic. “... I’ve never encountered a spirit like you before... I’m curious, of course, but I won’t ask who you are. I won’t ask to study you, either, as in any other circumstance with any other spirit, I would... because frankly... You don’t seem like a spirit, Saber.”

[xmusiings]

His words don’t mean a thing It shows right through his teeth

[leorexfilius]

aesfiore‌:

✧      Fiore never liked conflict. She didn’t like fighting, she didn’t like conflict, and she didn’t like butting heads with other people — it had taken a lot of convincing to get her into this Holy Grail War on behalf of the Yggmillennia. That dislike fighting not only covered her distaste at having to watch legendary warriors fight to the death again and again, but also her dislike of personal conflict. She and Mordred had had a fight and… Well, it was entirely her fault, and she could acknowledge that without being self-deprecating. It was her fault… and she hated that.

She was embarrassed and ashamed over how she had spoken of homunculi in front of him before learning that he was a homunculus himself, so she had hidden herself away in her room for more than a handful of days, working and studying and trying to get her mind off of the knot in her stomach. It didn’t help much… She had hurt Mordred so badly. He didn’t need to be hurt anymore. On a dark and storming night, she had to leave her room.

Fiore opened the door to her room with a little bit of magecraft and peeked out into the hallway to check to see if he was there or not — intending to hide away again if he was, and upon seeing that he wasn’t, she pushed herself out into the corridor.

It had been… four or five days…? She needed food. Cursing her biological body, Fiore moved down the corridor with great hesitation, keeping her eyes down and her body posture meek. She really wanted to see Mordred, but at the same time she hoped he wasn’t around. She missed him, but she doubted that he’d want anything to do with her now.

@leorexfilius.

He’d been angry, of course. How could he not? The cycle was repeating itself. Someone he’d chosen to serve, someone he thought he’d trusted, had turned their back and walked away. There had been many differences, of course - but the core of it remained the same. When confronted with a side of him they’d never seen before, both of them had decided to leave him behind.

The first few hours had been spent staring at the ceiling and waiting for the end to come. For the contract between Master and Servant to be severed, for his second death to be far quieter than the first. Mordred was tired - of trying and trying, only to be seen as less than he was, to be seen as something he wasn’t, for what he had to be pulled out from under him. What point was there in trying? It was over. He’d had enough.

Hours had stretched into a day with no sign of the mana link being cut, and then two. The Knight of Treachery returned to his duties with all the aplomb of a television keyed to a different channel, raiding the kitchens for some cold comfort in a full stomach - if the kitchen staff was bothered by it, they never showed it, and he didn’t care to ask. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, and when he was neither, he walked. Around and around the castle, mechanically and without emotion, checking the wards. In this manner, he waited for the end. Even now, he was curled up on a windowsill in the kitchens, watching the rain beat against the thick glass with a hot drink in his hands.

If her presence was something he was aware of, he gave no notice.

[aesfiore-blog]

✧     Fiore opened the door to the kitchens with another bit of magecraft and pushed herself in, pausing only when she saw the blond knight sitting on the wide and sweeping windowsill. It was picturesque in a sad way --- through the glass behind him was a dark grey background of thick rain slamming against the panes and overhead clouds that refused to move on from the castle. And Mordred himself wouldn’t have needed such a setting to look so down... He didn’t even look at her. She didn’t blame him.

Removing her eyes from him, she looked back down to the floor as she pushed her wheelchair to the icebox, stopping herself beside it and awkwardly leaning over to open it, using one hand to hold the door and another to push her chair towards it to block the door was swinging shut. Wanting something very simple so as to not upset her stomach after so many days without any food at all, naturally she reached for a small wrapped lemon-raspberry cake. She pulled it out and sat it on the counter, reaching in for the milk, as well, keenly aware of all the noise she was making in the excessively quiet kitchen. She would have liked to have made her presence as small as possible while in there with him.

Nevertheless, she felt the urge to say something. She poured a small glass of milk and glanced with uncertainty towards the knight by the window before looking away again, frowning. Fiore was just so nervous... She didn’t like this at all. She had to say something, though. She respected Mordred too much to ignore him and pretend nothing had happened. How long could silence last, after all. 

Feeling that it was the right thing to do, Fiore swallowed and shut the door to the icebox, looking down at the floor before turning herself to look at him. A moment of silence passed before she decided that if she didn’t say something now, she might never say anything.

“Mordred,”  she said softly, wondering if he was going to acknowledge her at all. “Mordred, I’m sorry.”

[aesfiore-blog]

✧      Fiore never liked conflict. She didn’t like fighting, she didn’t like conflict, and she didn’t like butting heads with other people --- it had taken a lot of convincing to get her into this Holy Grail War on behalf of the Yggmillennia. That dislike fighting not only covered her distaste at having to watch legendary warriors fight to the death again and again, but also her dislike of personal conflict. She and Mordred had had a fight and... Well, it was entirely her fault, and she could acknowledge that without being self-deprecating. It was her fault... and she hated that.

She was embarrassed and ashamed over how she had spoken of homunculi in front of him before learning that he was a homunculus himself, so she had hidden herself away in her room for more than a handful of days, working and studying and trying to get her mind off of the knot in her stomach. It didn’t help much... She had hurt Mordred so badly. He didn’t need to be hurt anymore. On a dark and storming night, she had to leave her room.

Fiore opened the door to her room with a little bit of magecraft and peeked out into the hallway to check to see if he was there or not --- intending to hide away again if he was, and upon seeing that he wasn’t, she pushed herself out into the corridor.

It had been... four or five days...? She needed food. Cursing her biological body, Fiore moved down the corridor with great hesitation, keeping her eyes down and her body posture meek. She really wanted to see Mordred, but at the same time she hoped he wasn’t around. She missed him, but she doubted that he’d want anything to do with her now.

@leorexfilius.

[books-n-quotes]

I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.

Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon (via books-n-quotes)

[wickedlymeme]

“I wish it could always be like this.”

“You’re always there for me.”

“The stars are the only thing that makes sense.”

“There’s more out there, you just have to be patient.”

“It doesn’t all have to be existential dread.” 

“You’re so much different when we’re alone.”

“I like it when the worlds quiet.” 

“There’s a place for us somewhere.”

“They’ll name constellations after you one day.”

“Your hearts beating so fast.”

“They don’t know what they want.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to say.”

“We really don’t know what we’re doing.”

“I miss the old you.”

“Nostalgias a trap.”

“Aliens are out there.”

“Did you hear that?”

“I really want pizza right now, think it’s open?” 

“What time is it?”

“But why would they abduct cows?”

“We’ll all be dead soon enough anyways.” 

“I wish we didn’t have to sleep.”

“What do you believe in?”

“What happens after we die?”

“Seems like a silly thing to say, don’t you think?” 

“And what’s your excuse?”

“You’ll get it together soon.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’ll never have it together.”

“It’d be better if people weren’t so afraid of their feelings.”

“You keep quiet and we both lose.”

“I wish I could save this forever.”

“When did you realize you were in love with me?”

“The rooms spinning.”

“I loved you long before you knew.”

“I’m not afraid of death, I think it’ll be peaceful.”

“The Universe is too big for that.”

“Do you think we’ve met in other lives?” 

“I’d come back to haunt you.” 

“Would you come back to haunt me?”

“What’s alternate universe you doing right now?”

“Tell me a secret.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

“I wish we knew each other sooner.”

“You’re a game changer.” 

“I’m a game changer.”

“Don’t ignore fate.” 

“Ignorance isn’t bliss.”

“What, is that a conspiracy theory?”

“It’s probably the Illuminati anyways.” 

[jehannee]

apocrypha ドロワー詰め // By: ペーター

[ravenresources]

send “ ❥” to nibble on my muse’s earlobe.

[scathanna-blog]

aesfiore‌:

✧     Fiore tilted her head up and pressed her lips to Mordred’s, kissing her back briefly before they parted, permitting her to answer her knight while smoothing out the skirt of her dress to cover her legs, “Hey… Don’t make fun of my home. It’s your home, too, now, you know.”    

     She was laughing. Mordred didn’t hate the appeal of this place but it didn’t make her aforementioned statement any less true. The Knight took her place behind with hands gripping the handles of the chair and begun to push through the halls. They were planning to go to eat and Mordred was looking forward to it. ‘ Feh, you’re quick to assume I said it like it’s a bad thing. Doesn’t look much different than the castle I called home in Camelot. ‘ 

[aesfiore-blog]

✧     Fiore rested her hands comfortably in her lap as Mordred began to push her wheelchair, the sound of the wheels going over the bumps in the wooden and stone floors reverberating off the high walls and ceilings, the entire Fortress suddenly seeming so much bigger than it had to be as she imagined just her and Mordred living there together and alone.

“You never talk much about Camelot... I don’t know why, but I’ve been hesitant to ask. What was it like...?”

[aesfiore-blog]

✧     Rebel knights turn her on.

[readyforcombat]

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

That was not what she needed. What she needed was a love that would absorb her whole being, her reason, her whole soul, that would give her ideas, an object in life, that would warm her very blood.

Anton Chekhov, from Complete Works of Anton Chekhov; “The Darling,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[aesfiore-blog]

scathanna‌:

    ‘ Uh… Yeah. I do. ‘ Waltzing over to the girl in the wheel chair, her hand brushed along her exposed thigh as lips pressed against hers momentarily. ‘ Ya definitely bring out a brighter vibe than this gloomy dump. ‘ 

✧     Fiore tilted her head up and pressed her lips to Mordred’s, kissing her back briefly before they parted, permitting her to answer her knight while smoothing out the skirt of her dress to cover her legs, “Hey... Don’t make fun of my home. It’s your home, too, now, you know.”    

[aesfiore-blog]

scathanna‌:

     ‘ Is that a new dress, Fiore? That looks amazing on you. ‘ / @aesfiore

✧     “It is new! Do you really like it...?”  answered Fiore, pulling out and flouncing about the skirt of her new yellow day dress. “I’m usually not so keen to bare my legs, but... I thought perhaps the fortress could use a little more color.”