CATHARSIS is a non-canon OC fate/series site, loosely based off of fate/apocrypha. Knowledge of the fate/series canon is helpful, but knowledge of fate/apocrypha isn't needed!
Post by Amaury St John Yggdmillennia on Aug 3, 2014 6:31:57 GMT
Amaury inspected the circle that he'd carefully inscribed in the church. He'd been amazed to find it: an old, solidly built Christian church, just on the edge of the city, abandoned for years but still in good condition. The circle was drawn just before the altar, lit by the light of the sun coming through the stained glass windows. It was beautiful, and it had almost been perfect.
Almost because he'd had to move up the timing of the summoning. He'd intended to perform it at dusk. A beautiful time: the vigilant day grappled with the oncoming night, and at that one moment the two were in perfect symmetry. Truly it would have been glorious.
Unfortunately, the pseudo-family to which Amaury belonged was about to announce its secession from the Magus Association that day, and wasn't about to leave itself undefended by not having all seven of their Servant's summoned. So it was that the need for haste overrode beauty. But Amaury couldn't be too upset, justice for what the Mage's Association had done do him was almost upon him.
And anyway, as the clouds aligned just right and a single beam of sunlight illuminated the summoning circle while leaving most of the rest of the church shaded, he had to admit that there was a definite beauty to this. So with a smile Amaury began the incantation.
"Laissez l'argent et le fer soient l'essence. Laissez pierre et l'archiduc de contrats soient le fondemont. Laissez noir soit la couleur que je rends hommage à. Laissez lever un mur contre le vent qui doit tomber. Laissez le quatre portes cardinales proches. Laissez la route à trois fourchue de la couronne d'atteindre vers le Royaume tourner.
Qu'il soit déclaré aujourd'hui: Votre chair doit servir sous moi, et mon sort est avec votre épée. Soumettre à la montrant du doigt du Saint-Graal. Répondre, si vous souhaitez soumettre à cette volonté et cette vérité.
Un serment est prêté serment ici. Je vais atteindre toutes les vertus de tout le Ciel; Je vais avoir la domination sur tous les maux de tous de l'Enfer.
Du Septième Ciel, assisté par trois grands mots de pouvoir, sortir de l'anneau de retenue, de protection de l'équilibre sacré!
Post by Julie d'Aubigny on Aug 4, 2014 5:41:26 GMT
If the world was a stage, then the Grail was a dressing room. At least, that’s likely what Julie would have thought of it if she were able to form real thoughts as she slept, or floated, or existed there. There really wasn’t a good word for exactly what it felt like. She couldn’t have captured it even with the big, pretty vocabulary that she so prided herself in. Perhaps it was better that way. The lovely thing about not being able to find a word was that it implied that there were indeed more words to learn. Julie had not expected that to be the case after death.
But then, she had not expected to die the way that she died either. Her life had been wild and vibrant. She had expected to go in a blaze of glory – perhaps in a duel or a fire. However, while she had succeeded in living quickly and leaving a pretty corpse, that had not been the case. It had been far too quiet. She couldn’t even remember it. What a horrible thing that was, to not have a memorable death. Perhaps this time she would be luckier.
This felt so incredibly right. She had been here for so long trying on costume after costume. She’d memorized her lines and done all of her vocal exercises. And so, when the curtain rose for this first act of the Holy Grail War, La Maupin was so much more than ready. She was hungry – no, starving – for this chance at her most glorious role to date.
And you can bet she looked fantastic.
The set was so lovely that the summoning itself didn’t need to do much to set the scene. First, there was music. It was delicate and yet cheerful and appeared to be coming from right there in the center of the summoning circle. The air smelled of roses and perfume and frills and lace and tiny dogs and monocles and caviar and every fancy thing that ever dared be fancy.
Next there was a warm glow. It came up from the circle and surrounded it like a curtain, parting after a moment to reveal a young lady with long, wavy, rose-colored hair.
She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, and she was very plainly and obviously the most lovely sort of troublemaker. Everything about her said it from the glint in her blue eyes to her extremely unladylike ensemble. It was masculine, but short and tight enough to be scandalous. Hanging in a finely detailed sheath at her hip was what looked like a rapier.
Julie grinned. She examined her surroundings, getting more and more excited as she noticed every pretty detail of the church.
“Oh this place sings.” She said breathlessly. “Not as nicely as I do, of course, but it does sing.”
The man in front of her was decent looking, she supposed. He’d come dressed well for the occasion and had picked a lovely venue. All of that went a long way toward pleasing her, at least for now. She could only hope that she was correct in assuming that this dapper gent was to be her co-star.
She bowed dramatically. “I am Assassin. Now tell me, good Sir…” She said. “Are you my master?”
Post by Amaury St John Yggdmillennia on Aug 4, 2014 16:21:15 GMT
Amaury had expected an impressive sight. This was supposedly "proper" European magic, and complex at that. If there was one thing that mages knew how to do, despite all their talk of secrecy, it was create a spectacle. And that was exactly what he'd expected: a spectacle.
What he got was so much better. What he got was a show.
The lights, the music, the entrance, they wove together so beautifully, not by mere happenstance but with such intent and purpose that they almost distracted from the figure they centered around. Almost, but not quite. The graceful figure, dressed as a man but most obviously a woman, that stepped forth commanded his attention.
He had at first considered this whole Holy Grail War to be a chore. A service rendered for those who had offered him the opportunity to avenge himself against the one who had wronged him. But now he was glad. Glad he had joined, glad he had chosen this venue, glad he had dressed up for the occasion (not that he owned anything that could be considered dressing down anymore, but still).
"I am glad this place pleases you, mademoiselle," he said, bowing slightly with his right arm crossed across his torso in deference to the obviously veteran performer before him.
"Indeed, I am your Master," he answered, presenting the hand he had crossed, on the back of which was a set of red markings reminiscent of something between snakes and musical symbols, "though I would not dare be called such by one such as you. I am Amaury St. John Yggdmillenia, at your service."
Post by Julie d'Aubigny on Aug 5, 2014 0:10:56 GMT
Oh good – a professional. That was lucky. She simply couldn’t stand working with amateurs, especially not on projects that were as near and dear to her heart as this one was. So far, this was shaping up nicely.
“What a name.” She mused, climbing up onto the altar as she said it. When given the choice between pacing along the floor or pacing atop a semi-symbolic artfully designed vantage point, always choose the semi-symbolic artfully designed vantage point. “I like it. It has a nice ring to it. In it I hear…villainy? Perhaps? I’m usually very good at this.”
She put a finger to her lips, deep in thought. There was a long pause while she paced in a slow circle around the edge of that altar. After a while, she spoke again.
“Yes, I’m sure of it – we are not protagonists. Nothing about your attire says protagonist to me. No matter. Never in the history of theater has any right-minded audience preferred the protagonist to the dashing, nefarious sorcerer. We’ll have all the best songs.” She said matter-of-factly. “And yet I feel that in saying ‘villain’, I’m cheapening it. There is complexity here. There is a deep, stirring, thrilling…something.”
Julie turned to him, staring him right in the face as if she expected to find something surprising there. “Inspire me. What motivates your character?” She asked. “What is so important that you’ve come here to face certain doom? Is it a lady? A man?”
Post by Amaury St John Yggdmillennia on Aug 6, 2014 4:35:50 GMT
Amaury smiled. A Servant who could muse on something like this, names and implications of villainy, was exactly the sort of Servant he was looking for.
"I have stood on both sides, though it does seem we play the role of villain in this battle," he said without a hint of shame.
"As for my character, I'm afraid there is nothing so interesting as what you suggest. I simply wish repay those I owe. Pain to those who thrust an injustice upon me, and kindness towards those who allow me to make that repayment. Beyond that, I have no wish or desire to speak of, save perhaps to see what story fate deigns to tell in this place."
Thinking for a moment, he followed that line of inquiry back to its source, stepping forward to the altar and offering his hand to the woman atop it.
"But what of you, mademoiselle? For what reason do you answer the call of the Grail? And what may I call you? Assassin is far too... commonplace for a beauty such as yourself."
Post by Julie d'Aubigny on Aug 7, 2014 6:00:38 GMT
That was indeed a bit unorthodox as far as wishes went, but she understood it. It was most definitely something that they could have a bit of fun with, or so she thought at this point. If there was one thing she knew well, it was that in these sorts of situations things very rarely play out the way that you expect them to. She would express her tentative excitement here, but she felt that in time she would come to learn more about the unique way that this fellow conducted himself. “I see, I see…” She said, nodding. “Well. We can certainly see about that.
She took his hand and used it to help herself off the altar, smiling and nodding her head in thanks as she did so. “When I sang, I was the Mademoiselle de Maupin. When I fought, I was…any number of gender-based expletives. People can be so classless. Because we are costars, it is only fitting that you call me by the name that my father gave me – Julie.” She explained.
It was such a dreadfully commonplace name, but she liked it all the same. Julie liked to think that a common name was a challenge in that you really had to learn to wear it better than all the others. You were either one of many or the one that defined the many.
“As for my wish…” She continued. “Nothing that I want is grand enough for a competition such as this. I suppose if I were to win, I’d ask to live again. This world has changed so much. I can only imagine the kinds of things I’d get into.”
Post by Amaury St John Yggdmillennia on Aug 19, 2014 3:02:53 GMT
Amaury would be the first to admit that he was not well versed in his mythology. Had she named herself as some legendary figure from ancient times he would have been respectful but it would have likely meant nothing to him.
This name however. This name meant something.
"Mademoiselle, it is an honor to make your acquaintance," he said with a tone of awe.
"To stand alongside a performer such as yourself is something I never dreamed would happen. The return of Julie d'Aubigny to the land of the living is a grand thing, rest assured."
So long as she showed no resistance, he would continue to grasp her hand, leading her along towards the large doors at the main entrance of the church.
"To repay you for this honor, I shall strive to achieve your wish. And should we fail, we shall ensure this brief performance given here will be the greatest the Grail Wars have ever known. So come, let your debut commence."
Once he came to the entrance he released her hand, assuming she had not reclaimed it already. He moved to the side, bowing and gesturing for Julie to walk out into the world for the first time in years.
