[ makes some kind of attempt to pull away from that, like he'd detected the movement happening but didn't quite make it away in time, and he scowls ]
—Rest can happen after I have obtained immortality.
[ but you have a point on the intelligence thing. hm. ]
Every summoned Servant must be summoned through these methods, correct? A summoning circle in blood and a catalyst, something like a personal belonging. If they are just as expensive as your eyes—[ snorts ]—eye crystals are, then there are not many people who can afford such a thing in the first place, not in this city. But if they aren't in this city then it's even more imperative that the search begins tonight.
You're of no use to either of us if you drop dead from sleep deprivation. There's no guarantee I was even the last one summoned. The war may not have begun yet.
[He does let go, though.]
You might be on to something, but it can wait until after you've slept, or you can have me follow up on it while you rest.
And I know a workaholic when I meet one. I know what a man who hasn't slept in too long looks like, too, but you take the cake.
Rest. These things don't start quickly. Mages hate to tip their hands too early, so there will be weeks of circling each other like sharks at the start, I reckon. No reason not to sleep sound while you can. The advantage can wait a night.
I seem to have been summoned as a Caster class, so you should probably call me that. The identity of the servant is supposed to be kept relatively secret. Part of the whole not tipping your hand thing.
but first, how would you like a vivid dream about that time Ryner tried to assassinate Sion with a book? complete with gay knocking him over and Milk and Ferris busting in. A nice, friendshippy dream.]
[ SO YOU'RE PROBABLY AWARE THAT THE REAL AMOUNT OF HOURS I GOT TO SLEEP WAS ACTUALLY MORE LIKE, TWO. ]
[ what a fucking bizarre dream though. literally what the shit. it's pleasant enough that he doesn't quite wake up on the dot if you end up sparkling into his room ]
[After he's done checking out the city, he investigates the manor while immaterial, though he sparkles back into existence in the kitchen to make a sandwich before Damian wakes.
He has not, however, finished the sandwich by the time Damian is up, so he walks into Damian's room holding half a sandwich and looking utterly at home.]
[ you fuckin piece of shite who said you could do that ]
[ it takes a moment—he's already stirring when he hears footsteps; he's not really a deep sleeper in the first place. he isn't moving yet, though, looks perfectly like he's asleep on the outside.
then: ]
Is that from our pantry.
[ i mean that's not precisely where sandwiches come from but you know ]
[ frowns, eyebrows deeply inset even before he opens his eyes, and when he does the frown stays; he's sitting himself up—there's notably no blanket or sheet that covers him, or even anything on the bed besides what looks like a stiff bedroll. it doesn't look comfortable at all. ]
Tt. Making yourself at home already—you had better not have been caught.
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—Rest can happen after I have obtained immortality.
[ but you have a point on the intelligence thing. hm. ]
Every summoned Servant must be summoned through these methods, correct? A summoning circle in blood and a catalyst, something like a personal belonging. If they are just as expensive as your eyes—[ snorts ]—eye crystals are, then there are not many people who can afford such a thing in the first place, not in this city. But if they aren't in this city then it's even more imperative that the search begins tonight.
Now.
Unhand me.
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[He does let go, though.]
You might be on to something, but it can wait until after you've slept, or you can have me follow up on it while you rest.
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If it hasn't begun then it's time to prepare, so that we have the advantage when it begins.
[ read: he's going to plant bombs and traps in this entire city ]
Tt. I am fine, I know the limits to my own body.
[ in fairness he is also aware he is rapidly approaching said limits, but ]
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Rest. These things don't start quickly. Mages hate to tip their hands too early, so there will be weeks of circling each other like sharks at the start, I reckon. No reason not to sleep sound while you can. The advantage can wait a night.
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looks to his watch, glancing to the crystals still in his hands
looks to the blood on his hands, too. and the blood on his clothes. good thing he wears only black.
sighs ]
And where will you go, while I am resting?
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Finish in three hours.
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Sleep longer than that.
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Three hours, Ryner Lute.
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[ pauses, suddenly realizing something, and he's thoughtful ]
. . . Wayne. Damian Wayne.
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Damian. Hi. Nice to meet you, I guess.
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[ with an irritated sigh, as he turns to you know, keep walking again ]
It isn't reciprocated. But it is only fair that you know my name, now that I know yours.
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I seem to have been summoned as a Caster class, so you should probably call me that. The identity of the servant is supposed to be kept relatively secret. Part of the whole not tipping your hand thing.
Rest well, Damian.
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Report back with everything you know.
. . . For now, avoid speaking to anyone directly at all. Especially if they are here.
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[Sparkles out of existence, and after a few moments Damian will get the distinct feeling he's left.]
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[ so 1) can you sense if i'm awake or not
and 2) are you coming back in three hours ]
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but first, how would you like a vivid dream about that time Ryner tried to assassinate Sion with a book? complete with gay knocking him over and Milk and Ferris busting in. A nice, friendshippy dream.]
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[ what a fucking bizarre dream though. literally what the shit. it's pleasant enough that he doesn't quite wake up on the dot if you end up sparkling into his room ]
[ or
wherever you sparkle to ]
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He has not, however, finished the sandwich by the time Damian is up, so he walks into Damian's room holding half a sandwich and looking utterly at home.]
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[ it takes a moment—he's already stirring when he hears footsteps; he's not really a deep sleeper in the first place. he isn't moving yet, though, looks perfectly like he's asleep on the outside.
then: ]
Is that from our pantry.
[ i mean that's not precisely where sandwiches come from but you know ]
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[ frowns, eyebrows deeply inset even before he opens his eyes, and when he does the frown stays; he's sitting himself up—there's notably no blanket or sheet that covers him, or even anything on the bed besides what looks like a stiff bedroll. it doesn't look comfortable at all. ]
Tt. Making yourself at home already—you had better not have been caught.
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