route_1065 | ☘ // history repeating

Entry tags:

☘ // history repeating

Who: Lancer and Carmen
Where: A largely nondescript restaurant on the coast of Goldenrod.
When: Saturday evening
Summary: Lancer tries to figure out what the heck Fate/Hollow Ataraxia even was.
Rating: T for probable descriptions of violence/blood.
Log:

This was the fourth day.

All reason told him that no, it was impossible for the time loop to carry over into Johto. And Lancer believed that, but still there was part of him (instinct?) which remained on edge. For now, the legendary hero in black sat at a table with his head leaning on his right hand, staring out a window at the water. His left shoulder was healing--luckily for him the wound didn't seem to be at risk of opening up again. The arm itself was still pretty limited, and it wasn't hard to tell his whole shoulder was carefully wrapped in bandages.

Fragarach; the weapon only Cu Chulainn could counter. Had killing its owner brought the looping dream of Fuyuki City to an end? Had Emiya managed to handle the rest once Lancer himself had died? His chest and shoulder ached, therefore it must have been real in some measure...but just how real was it?

...And why did it have to be her of all people that was behind it?

People tended to talk to friends when they had problems, right? (He wouldn't really have known; Lancer wasn't the sort to confide in most people.) But if the alternative was this awful headache he was getting from trying to reason the whole thing out after the fact, he'd decided to give it a try. Talking candidly with Emiya about his past had been...what was the word for it? 'Liberating', maybe? Hell if he knew, but maybe asking Carmen here would have a similar effect. And she was smarter than Emiya, so maybe he could make some sense of the whole thing talking to her.

Whether it helped or not, if--when 11:59 of the eleventh ticked right on over into 12:00 of the twelfth, Lancer couldn't help but admit he'd be a little more at ease.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She frowned, mulling this new piece of information over. A sword that changed destiny...

Well, the subject of time loops was already on the table, so in a sense the description of what Fragarach could do wasn't...so different. Replace 'destiny' with 'history' and it made even a little clearer sense: like going back in time to change the events of one thing to make it come out a different way — she had plenty of personal experience with that. So using the sword Fragarach would mean that, so long as it struck second in time, some power would activate and alter the sequence of events to force it to strike first.

Quite the brain twister, but she was pretty sure she had it set out.

(The waiter passing by to drop off their egg rolls, on the other hand, seemed completely perplexed, but of course the topic of conversation had nothing to do with him anyway.)

"That was your sword too, for a while," Carmen said at last. "Was that why your detective needed you? Because that sword was the key to breaking the time loop?"

"No... the girl who used it was. Among all those that were supposed to be dead, there was only one that was never involved in the Fifth Holy Grail War."

She was dead before it even got off the ground--should have been dead, at least. There was no doubt in his mind that Lancer correctly remembered the bloodstained body of that girl in the church.

'You'll have to use one of those Command Seals if you plan on ordering me around. Always watching your back and never sleeping could get tiresome.'

Vengeance had been his in the end--even in the repeating time loop, that priest had been dead without any doubt. But of all people, she was alive and Lancer wasn't sure he knew why.

"This kid, Shirou Emiya, he was digging around to find what caused the whole thing. He apparently ran into this girl and faced Fragarach in one loop or another. So one day, he comes lookin' for me while I was fishing, and asks for my help. I guess he thought defeating her would end it--since he'd fought me before, he knew Gae Bolg was the natural counter to Fragarach. "

A sigh. The whole thing was just...so annoying.

"That sword plays havoc with cause and effect, but so does my lance."

Gae Bolg — that red spear she'd seen in action just a few weeks shy of a year ago. Maybe it'd really only been a dream then, but if it was, it was at least a shared dream. She wouldn't have come up with something like that on her own, she knew.

Of course, now she was starting to see why he'd brought the matter of the weapons up in the first place. Breaking the time loop, defeating the girl — he meant killing her, didn't he? And undoubtedly that would explain the injuries, too...

"The natural counter to Fragarach," she mused, intent on trying to work out the puzzle for herself. It was a grim riddle, to be sure, but she couldn't help but set herself to the task of trying to solve it anyway — whether arriving at the solution herself was necessary or not. If Fragarach used time loops to change the sequence of events in a battle...what was the 'natural counter' to something like that?

"Then Gae Bolg...does something that renders Fragarach's reordering of events irrelevant? Something that...it doesn't matter who struck first?"

"You're just about right. I'd probably give you the point, it's close enough."

There was a laugh with a slightly dark edge to it. Of course, it had to be Lancer that could kill her. It was just his luck, after all.

"The minute Gae Bolg's been invoked, it's already struck. Swinging the lance is the second action taken to fulfill that conclusion. The secret Scathach taught to only one person is a complete reversal of cause and effect. That's the trick to it; Fragarach has to be called second, but both are a certain 'first strike'. Gae Bolg can't be cancelled by its effect, because it's already hit. And Fragarach was invoked after it was called, so it also already struck." A frown. "...I think it's called 'mutually assured destruction'."

'She didn't teach me that.'

She didn't teach anyone that. She had but one favored student, and one apprentice to whom her skill was granted.

'Yours is the guilt which clung to me. On you my blood was shed.'

It was only Cu Chulainn, and it was always only Cu Chulainn who remained. Scathach's greatest ability, the demonic spear passed to only Culann's Hound--

'Ah...hey, wait. I...have one, too...'

--had only ever destroyed that which he loved.

Lancer had grown very quiet, staring out the window again with a distant expression as his hand went back to one earring. Was the true impact of it all only just hitting him, now that he was off a battlefield? He'd killed someone important again, and there was no way to be sure it had even worked. Would she and her mystery Servant wake up on the morning of the eighth all over again? For that matter, would he eventually do the same?

"I'm...sorry. Geez, I ask you here and then do nothin' but talk your ear off. Ain't like me at all to do that."

There, so that was it. Fragarach, the sword of retribution, couldn't defend unless its opponent had been invoked — but by the time Gae Bolg has been invoked, it's already beyond defending against. That explanation, which she surmised quietly, allowed her to see the connection at last. That also must've been how Lancer had gotten hurt; he was hit by a sword that had struck first, even as simultaneously his own lance had found its own target. Mutually assured destruction, indeed.

But something about it was still bothering her — the way he'd been fidgeting with his earrings, something about the way he'd phrased things when he was talking about the girl wielding Fragarach.

All those that were supposed to be dead, he'd said.

How would he have known what state the girl was supposed to be in, unless —

"It's all right. I'm here for a story, aren't I?" Carmen answered gently, even as the growing realization nagged at her. "From what you've said, it sounds like something you needed to get off your chest."

But then she paused, silently debating, and finally added:

"You...knew the girl who used Fragarach, didn't you?"

"..."

Naturally, this conversation was going to get there eventually. The heart of the problem, to excuse the obvious wordplay. Lancer didn't want to talk about her, had never really wanted to talk about her, and yet here he was.

"Bazett Fraga McRemitz."

For the first time in over three years spent in Johto, he spoke her full name.

"She was my original Master--in other words, the person who summoned 'heroic spirit Cu Chulainn' into the living world. Fragarach was something passed down through her family for generations, but hell if I know how they ever got their hands on it in the first place. She died before the war even started, and I formed a new contract with the guy that killed her. Didn't have much of a choice, since I wanted to live long enough to kill him myself."

He gave another half-shrug, frowning.

"...I just don't get why she was there. Never mind how she seemed to be the one responsible for the whole time loop."

"Maybe it's because she was the odd person out that it all hinged on her."

It was hard to put the concept into words without sounding patronizing, and given how dramatically it had affected Lancer, that wasn't something Carmen particularly wanted to risk. Of course literature had explored the idea of such things, and from a theoretical sense there was value in those kinds of thought experiments, but there was no tactful way to start comparing such very real circumstances to 'something I read in a book once', so she ultimately decided to just leave it at that.

"Is she the reason you're worried this will all start over again tomorrow?"

"Nah, not at all. It's just that dying and waking up right back and the start was just a little too convenient for me. Guess the habit of the whole thing's got me a little anxious."

The whole world ended on the fourth night; he'd seen it himself a couple time. One Servant would be too easy to reset along with the rest of the city, so didn't it only stand to reason that dying would just result in going back to the start?

"There's no way whatever's going on could go this far." he said as if to confirm it for himself. "This place is impossible enough already."

"Most likely not, no," Carmen agreed gently. "This place works in mysterious ways like that, and sometimes it's not to our benefit — but sometimes it is. I knew someone once who'd escaped from...something malevolent back home. It wasn't able to follow that person here; whatever force created this place, it seems intent on shielding it from outside forces, too."

Of course, that wasn't all there was to it, was there?

"...but I'll stay up with you, if you want. Until the date changes over for certain," she offered.

"C'mon, I ain't some scared kid."

But that brought more of an actual smile to his face; Lancer was starting to think he was being kind of an idiot over this. What was done was done, after all. He learned through experience that being miserable wasn't going to bring anyone back from the dead.

"The offer's a nice one, but I'd be pretty awful company. I'm all but dead on my feet lately, I'd probably fall asleep long before midnight."

"Then maybe you should try out that haunted house in town and scare yourself awake," she teased, pleased to have gotten a smile out of him.

...Also, those egg rolls were looking delicious, thank you very much. It'd be a shame to leave them unattended now that the conversation was lightening up.

"But there's something to be said for 'early to bed and early to rise' — it's said to make a man healthy, wealthy, and wise."

"I ain't the kind to scare easy, y'know."

When one was usually the scariest thing around, there wasn't a hell of a lot to be afraid of. (Also, now that he realized they were there, he sure would be taking an egg roll.)

"Is that what they say now? I like to think there's some fun to be found in late nights when one's not half dead."

"Aha, so you're an advocate of the corollary, then: 'early to rise and early to bed makes you healthy and wealthy and socially dead'," came the immediate (and amused) answer.

(Fortunately, there were enough egg rolls for two, and boy were they ever delicious. Even if eating one gracefully was apparently not something Carmen was accomplishing very well at the moment.)

"Speaking of things keeping you up at night, how fares that little cat of yours?" she added.

"Now that sounds more like me." he admitted with a laugh. Pausing, he stopped to consider Carmen's next question; that cat was proving a problem. Lancer couldn't help but feel bad for the thing--whatever kept it making constant noise, it must have been real upset about it.

"Dunno, really. Every so often I have my Venomoth help it get some sleep, y'know? I've tried everythin', but I can't figure out why she's so damn screwed up. Tyrfing says I didn't even catch her; he saw her pick up an empty Pokeball and whack it on her head while I was stuck under a pile a' the things."

...So yeah, that sounded sane.

For a minute, there was just kind of a pause as she...processed...that...

...And then eventually Carmen just kind of shook her head with a laugh.

"You're far from the only one with that problem," she said. "It's hardly unusual to find a Pokemon with that kind of quirky personality — I should know, I've got more than a few of them myself — but it seems like those cats in particular are proving to have some of the most baffling ones I've ever heard of."

"I just ain't sure what to do with her. Tyrfing and Fr--Venomoth have been doing a good job of keeping the poor thing calm, but I wanna help her out if I can."

Even if her million-yard stare freaked him out.

"I mean hell, I don't like cats, but I ain't heartless." Lancer shoved another egg roll in his mouth, momentarily showing off far sharper than average canines.

...Which was probably ironic.

"You know you're always welcome to call if you need a hand with her. I do like cats," Carmen answered with a smile, securing another roll for herself against the possibility that they all disappear into someone's mouth before she could grab her fair share.

She paused. "Allusions to present company entirely unintentional, I've also always gotten along well with guard dogs," she added, thoughtfully dipping her egg roll in a bit of the sweet and sour sauce. "But that's more that they tend to like me, rather than me being particularly partial to them."

A handy trait for a master thief, after all.

Ordinarily, Lancer would have been aggravated by the implication; no matter how true it might have been, he hated being called a dog. But when it came to people like Carmen, he'd be willing to let it pass without complaint.

"...I've found animals are usually good judges of character. S'part of the reason I like this place so much. Then again, maybe these guys are a little better at it than your normal dogs and cats."

Edited 2014-10-13 05:38 (UTC)

Really, even when the intended topic was legitimately entirely unrelated, talking about guard dogs in the presence of Cu Chulainn was one of those things where you almost had to call attention to it, if for no better reason than to avoid letting it hang there like a particularly awkward elephant in the room and playing "did they or didn't they just" with it. So it was good that it'd gone over smoothly — the last thing she wanted was to be an unintentional jerk to someone she really liked.

...as she, you know. Frequently did. With unsettling regularity.

......she was really trying to get better about that.

"They really are, aren't they? And the intelligence some of them display is absolutely uncanny." She smiled. "One of mine regularly goes out and makes friends on the Network all by himself. I wouldn't say he's necessarily the best judge of character, but that's only because he's the type to assume that everyone is his friend right from the start. It's...sweet, honestly."

When it came to being a jerk to people they liked, Cu 'I'm Going To Hit On You Metaphorically Or Physically' Chulainn was an expert. But luckily, it was rare someone aggravated him so much for him to take it personally.

"I get what you mean. Can't say I've had any regularly on the Network-..." Pause. "...at least not that I know of." Gods only knew what thy got up to behind his back.

"Past couple years I've noticed all of mine are pretty clever. Especially Olldóiteán and Tyrfing--he was actually Emiya's, until the kid left. Best nonhuman sparring partner I've had in a long time."

"I can't say I'm surprised; Lucario have that sort of reputation," Carmen replied with a nod. "So he was here in the flesh, then, your detective Shirou Emiya? I'm sorry to have missed him; he sounds like an interesting person."

...

...Whatever she was imagining Shirou Emiya to be like, her imagination was probably not corresponding well with the reality of the situation, um.

"Yeah, he and his girlfriend Tohsaka were both here when I first showed up." A shrug.

"Interesting? That's one word for it--kid's dumber than a brick, but stubborn as hell. You probably know the type."

"...Strange. That sounds more like one of my— associates, than it does a clue-busting detective," Carmen remarked, clearly a little surprised.

In fairness, her henchmen tried very hard, really they did, but sometimes they were just utterly impossible. That wasn't ACME's MO at all, though; they took the brightest and best and trained them to be even better. (Just look at her, after all.)

"I thought you said he was the one who worked out that something was wrong, back home?"

"Here's the thing--you whack your head on a wall enough, sooner or later the wall might give in. I ain't saying he's smart, I'm saying the kid's persistent. Stumbles headfirst into shit and then rides it out to the end."

Beat.

"Hell, even killing him didn't stop him for more than a couple hours."

...

......

WELL OKAY THEN.

"Dare I ask how he managed to recover so admirably?" Carmen finally managed, for lack of anything better to say.

Because so help her, if Lancer said the kid was too dumb to recognize that he was supposed to die from a fatal injury, she was just...

Educational systems, why.

☘ // history repeating

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if you thought i wouldn't use bgm eventually you were wrong

let the record show i continue to hate you

u love me c:

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