#encroachingdarkness

[princepsxventis-blog]

encroaching-darkness

Esme turned on her heel when she heard the footsteps behind her, and upon seeing the mage, folded her arms.

Of course they were both walking towards the dining tent, but just the same, having someone behind her like that wasn't something she was exactly happy about.

"Can I help you?"

[cleopamon]

encroachingdarknesses has found their way to the Temple

"Hm?" Cleopamon opened her eyes as a sudden presence pulled her out of her meditation and turned around, scanning the temple ruins around her. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

[vamdxmon-blog]

encroachingdarknesses

No not just Let My People Go

Piedmon and Myo doing You're Playing With The Big Boys Now

[thethirdpath]

a world of wonder. } ;; (servant call/closed)

A war, a wish. 

Both were thoughts that seemed to twist and coil their way through young Shion's mind, as prominent and obvious to his inner self as the red snake of a scar constricting across a large portion of his body. This new setting, this supposed new way of life, they were prominent problems that plastered themselves to the forefront of his mind. What ever was he to do, in this situation? Was such a wish worth the cold-blooded murder of innocents from worlds unknown?

No, Shion thought, he was no bloodthirsty killer. Time and time again, this had been proven, shown so clearly in the mousy young man's inability to raise a fist to harm another human being, in his hesitance to pass a sharp word in his own defense. No, the word boomed through his thoughts once more, clear and sharp, this time the voice was not his own, but that of a dear friend.

It was as Nezumi had taunted him for all those months in the West Block. Shion was a sheltered resident of the dystopia formerly known as No. 6. Until the tender age of twelve, he had been raised in the lap of luxury. Every want, every need, every whim had been served to him on a silver platter. There was no doubt, no discontent in that world, only a warm home and a full belly and a constant promise of only the best things in life coming free. While Shion had broken from this shell at a young enough age to not have his freedom and independent thought blanked and whitewashed by the hivemind that was the government of No. 6, the ways of his upbringing were still very obvious in the way he conducted himself.

Shion had only killed a man once, after all. It was in a moment of fear and anger and hurt, and his rational mind had retreated back into a small corner of itself, shaking and cowering in the darkness as his eyes dulled and his fingers closed upon the trigger. In a gush of tears from one bloody rat and the boom of a gunshot, Shion had found himself within his own body again, the memory of where the smell of gunpowder that stung at his nostrils or the crimson that quickly was staining his light clothing had originated all but wiped from existence. It was not until crimson-colored doe eyes settled upon the warm and smoking piston in his hands that he truly grasped the situation, and, with a twitch at the corner of his jaw, the furrow of brows, and the shrinking of pupils, Shion dropped the gun. 

A scream had echoed through the chamber.

Yes, that dark day in the Correctional Facility, one that he had burned into the very roots of his mind, had made a vow upon his life to remember (not just for himself, but for the hundreds upon thousands of human lives lost at the hands of the Holy City's tyranny) was a once in a lifetime event. The translucent-haired boy's conduct had been a product of the stress and hellish conditions of his environment  He had gone through periods of strength and moments where both his mind and heart had broken that day, only to be pulled instantaneously from the decimation by those cool grey eyes that belonged to Nezumi, and the words that followed, "Whatever happens in there, I don't want you to change."

That had been the last day he had seen Nezumi, as well. Although a vow sealed with a kiss promised a reunion in the future, no matter how far away that might be, the red strings that had been their fates had uncoiled from the tight and tangled webbing that had brought them together in their past months. Both of them had work to do, after all. Shion had been entrusted with the reconstruction of the former No. 6, given the heavy burden of turning a former dystopia into a functioning city in a post-nuclear world that was barely suited for human life. And Nezumi, well.

Nezumi had a new path in life to find, parts of himself that had been dredged up in his time with Shion to come to terms with. 

And Shion was willing to wait.

Still, Shion mused, rolling up the sleeves of his heavy woolen sweater and crossing his arms, shifting his weight from leg to the other with a subtle jutting of rather feminine hips, That wish could hold the chance of that reunion I'm so wishing to see. 

Pale, rose colored lips curled up in a slightly mocking smile as he dismissed the thought with an inward wave of his hand. He had vowed he would wait. Shion planned on keeping that promise. Forcing a reunion upon a Nezumi who was not ready to plant his roots and grow like the forest he was raised in was an act that held little appeal to Shion. He was a naive man who frequently dabbled in half-hearted acts of pity that most often did more harm than good, as Nezumi had so harshly pointed out, and such a thought, such an act, was nothing more than a whim of self-pity and impatience to meet his important person once more. 

With that thought aside, Shion had no wish, no driving goal that would lead him to pursuing victory in this Grail War. Yet this city was thriving, the people were free and happy, and although such a shadowy event was going on right under their noses, the kind of happiness they experienced in this metropolis called Fuyuki City was one that Shion had only read of in books, only dreamed that he could help to create for the citizens back at home that relied on him. 

Learning about such a society, he decided, was well worth staying here until a proper way for him to return home (he doubted he would be able to return through the grail as he had come, after all) came to light. 

Still, there was the issue of a servant. Shion's white brows furrowed in frustration, the corners of his doll-like lips turned downward in a frown, and that angry red snake of a scar seemingly slithered across his pale skin as the lanky muscles and soft tissue underneath it coiled and tensed, the kind of rigidity of a man reaching a major obstacle in his thought path.

Shion would not last in this city long without a Servant, he would be killed by other Servants, even Masters, the grail had warned him, if he did not call forth a Servant and fight. Death was no place that Shion wished to visit this early in his young life, nor was it a void he wished to experience without Nezumi at his side. So he had to do what caused him the most distress.

Shion had to call forth a servant.

His lids closed tightly shut and he rubbed at his temples viciously, biting his lower lip between both rows of teeth and rolling it until a soft sting and the irony taste of blood could be felt in his mouth. Frustrating as it was, it was something he needed to do. There was no telling if this partner he called forth would indeed be willing to just work as a bodyguard, if they would have the same soft heart as their future master and wish for a path through this war without bloodshed. But for his own safety, and for the sake of that promise he wished so much to fulfill with Nezumi, this was something he had to steel himself to do.

"I doubt this is a partnership that either of us want to participate in, but for the time being, it is our best course of action. Servant, whoever you are, wherever you are, I wish we can work well together."

And with that simple string of words, the deed was done.