[Truthfully, the voice sounded like it came from a man Holmes' age - and as he finally steps into the light, he sees -
...Olga Marie?
No, it can't be - it's a man, for one, but the shape of the face and Olga's odd features (white hair, orange-red eyes, pale skin) are written large on his face. Even if Sherlock never met the girl, her picture had undoubtedly been in Chaldea's database as Chaldea's past director before the Founder.
Or perhaps he had seen this face before, when he looked for the records of Marisbury Animusphere...?]
...Come now, you can easily remove that, can't you? After all -
[The man's face remains neutral, but that tone, that cadence....it's so very, very familiar.]
[With that, he easily snaps the trap off. Even if the face belongs to most certainly Marisbury Animusphere, there something else there.
Slowly, Ruler rose to his feet, cane in hand - but in a relaxed, easy manner. He's a little thinner, and much paler than Saber - green eyes glinting in the low light.]
And you would be "Marisbury Animsuphere".
[And likely Caster Solomon is not far away. The man's cadence, the way his name was said - it had to be Moriarty. There's only one person who would say his name in that way]
[The face is different, the voice isn't quite right but the gestures, the smile, the way he talks - Ruler's eyes seem to pierce through, to try to discern his name.
The roar of those falls seem to echo in his ears, and if he dared close his eyes for a moment, he could see them on those slick, rocky ledges, a single misstep from doom.
Only Moriarty could give him that sensation of the fates looming over him, scissors forever straining to cut the thread, but this doesn't feel quite right... was he like Mash, a Demi-Servant? Though one who either merged more fully with his Nemesis or taken over by said person]
What it would appear to be - getting a feel for the city. Your name was spoken of in Chaldea, but the man himself... until now is an engima.
[He doesn't bother answering the year, noticing how genuinely pleased he is, which made his thoughts race and patch things that he knew together. A few things made more sense now - including a Servant's ability to play around with the programming willy-nilly]
[To be honest, it's less playing around most of the time and more 'system maintenance' on most days. He did pretty much write the damn system himself, after all.]
...Hmm. Is that all you have to say? How odd - I would have thought you would have been chattier than this.
[Marisbury gives Holmes a quiet, challenging stare - No, it was a look that was trying to figure something out...?]
Well, I know I don't have much time left to me, after all. About....oh, perhaps ten more years? Yet, I have living proof in front of me that the Rayshift theorem is sound.
[Oh dear god. They've been using his work all this time.
He doesn't move when Marisbury steps closer, there's something almost cool about his entire demeanor. He barely gestured, and his face was placid beyond the initial surprise]
And you must be thrilled to have a long-held theory confirmed.
[For a moment, there seem to be no effect - but then his eyes widened suddenly as tears sprang from the corner of his eyes, for a moment realization of a purpose:
Humanity will be safe.
There's the slightest of tremble in his right hand, clutching the cane. Then like that, it was gone, as if he didn't hear the deeper meaning, as a chill seems to settle over his senses.]
Now then - My Master has no intentions of interfering with this war, but simply to finish another mission.
[Though knowing her, they'll end up meddling anyways]
[He sees that tremble - and those tears - but doesn't comment on it.
After all, just seeing it is enough.
And after that moment, he seems to relax - shrugging his shoulders casually.]
Yes, yes - a neutral party in this war, is it? A shame, then, that you're currently staying at the home of Saber's Master if that were true. One could construe it as taking sides, after all.
[It wasn't just because of that, but - the younger him there, thinking about him sent uncharacteristic tense knots in his stomach over it, that he shouldn't be around the naive but still sharp-eyed Servant.]
She showed up with two servants, when the system could hypothetically support multiple Masters with multiple Servants. On top of that, she's clearly not a magus.
Therefore, she's either someone they see as expendable - and if you're here, that's clearly not the case - or she is the only one that they have currently.
Of course not. My curiosity is satisfied as to who is the one who laid this particular trap down, and I am mainly getting myself familiarized at this point.
[He blinks slowly - there's a moment of tension in the air, and for a microsecond... confusion and a bit of pain crosses his face, but then again, it was gone in a flash]
I am but a brain, the rest of me is an appendix. That is the only part necessary to resolve high-level incidents.
[For a moment, Moriarty pauses - clearly thinking, weighing his options.
For a moment, the idea of continuing to push - of potentially pushing hard on those cracks, until he finally shatters - springs to his mind, and...
he wants to.
That urge is too compelling to ignore.]
You don't think your companions care for you, and vice versa, Holmes?
Have you truly become that cold person - someone who only seeks truth and knowledge, regardless of who it hurts?
[He feels solomon shift beside him, as if asking what's happening, but his gaze remains locked on the man in front of him - that ice blue gaze, never once letting Holmes out of his sight.]
[The silence suddenly seemed much louder, much more oppressive. Some part of him still wants to deny it, that he still cares - still wants to, but he knew his actions on the lostbelts was that of a distant observer. Even the loss of his arm only earned some mild dismay. The medicines staved it off, but he was aware, bit by bit - feelings became harder and harder to summon - and sometimes he wondered, what he should have been feeling when something does happen, and he would draw a blank.
No one noticed. Oh they chide him for an inappropriate remark, more of which he had made, but no one had said anything.]
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...Olga Marie?
No, it can't be - it's a man, for one, but the shape of the face and Olga's odd features (white hair, orange-red eyes, pale skin) are written large on his face. Even if Sherlock never met the girl, her picture had undoubtedly been in Chaldea's database as Chaldea's past director before the Founder.
Or perhaps he had seen this face before, when he looked for the records of Marisbury Animusphere...?]
...Come now, you can easily remove that, can't you? After all -
[The man's face remains neutral, but that tone, that cadence....it's so very, very familiar.]
You are Sherlock Holmes, are you not?
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Slowly, Ruler rose to his feet, cane in hand - but in a relaxed, easy manner. He's a little thinner, and much paler than Saber - green eyes glinting in the low light.]
And you would be "Marisbury Animsuphere".
[And likely Caster Solomon is not far away. The man's cadence, the way his name was said - it had to be Moriarty. There's only one person who would say his name in that way]
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[He lifts his arms out, a smile on his face - a smile also familiar and sharp, as those eyes glitter at Holmes.]
I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that you know my name, hm? ...Still. What are you doing out during the night, so far away from your Master?
[This feeling -
One could almost sense the roar of the falls, as they stood on this street.
But this wasn't Moriarty....was he?]
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The roar of those falls seem to echo in his ears, and if he dared close his eyes for a moment, he could see them on those slick, rocky ledges, a single misstep from doom.
Only Moriarty could give him that sensation of the fates looming over him, scissors forever straining to cut the thread, but this doesn't feel quite right... was he like Mash, a Demi-Servant? Though one who either merged more fully with his Nemesis or taken over by said person]
What it would appear to be - getting a feel for the city. Your name was spoken of in Chaldea, but the man himself... until now is an engima.
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[...Even with all the oddity surrounding him, when he says that...he looks genuinely pleased, that smile even becoming warmer.]
But, I assume from the way you talk about me - that I do not live to see it fully blossom.
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[He doesn't bother answering the year, noticing how genuinely pleased he is, which made his thoughts race and patch things that he knew together. A few things made more sense now - including a Servant's ability to play around with the programming willy-nilly]
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...Hmm. Is that all you have to say? How odd - I would have thought you would have been chattier than this.
[Marisbury gives Holmes a quiet, challenging stare - No, it was a look that was trying to figure something out...?]
Well, I know I don't have much time left to me, after all. About....oh, perhaps ten more years? Yet, I have living proof in front of me that the Rayshift theorem is sound.
[He grins brightly, taking another step forward.]
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He doesn't move when Marisbury steps closer, there's something almost cool about his entire demeanor. He barely gestured, and his face was placid beyond the initial surprise]
And you must be thrilled to have a long-held theory confirmed.
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[At that, there's a momentary look of confusion - before his eyes suddenly widen, that orange-red shining brightly.]
I see... So, you're...
[He looks solemn, for a moment - before shaking his head.]
...It is thrilling, yes. But what is more important is that Humanity will be safe.
[He stresses that, staring the Servant directly in the eyes - and for a moment, it's like his own flash that brilliant blue.]
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Humanity will be safe.
There's the slightest of tremble in his right hand, clutching the cane. Then like that, it was gone, as if he didn't hear the deeper meaning, as a chill seems to settle over his senses.]
Now then - My Master has no intentions of interfering with this war, but simply to finish another mission.
[Though knowing her, they'll end up meddling anyways]
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After all, just seeing it is enough.
And after that moment, he seems to relax - shrugging his shoulders casually.]
Yes, yes - a neutral party in this war, is it? A shame, then, that you're currently staying at the home of Saber's Master if that were true. One could construe it as taking sides, after all.
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[It wasn't just because of that, but - the younger him there, thinking about him sent uncharacteristic tense knots in his stomach over it, that he shouldn't be around the naive but still sharp-eyed Servant.]
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[Oh, he can guess the reasons - just as much as he stood there and figured out the reason for the iciness.
...Yes, Chaldeas will have to be completed as soon as possible.]
Is she the only Master at Chaldea?
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That is a rather strange question.
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She showed up with two servants, when the system could hypothetically support multiple Masters with multiple Servants. On top of that, she's clearly not a magus.
Therefore, she's either someone they see as expendable - and if you're here, that's clearly not the case - or she is the only one that they have currently.
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[That is the annoying thing about this man, is that he is quite good at sussing out details.]
But you are correct.
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[That last bit is muttered, but...]
I trust you won't trigger any other traps I have set from now on?
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[There's that harsh glare again - his eyes raking over Holmes as if he's confirming something yet again.]
Surprising that no one else has mentioned that you're much like the 'cold thinking machine' many assume you are.
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I am but a brain, the rest of me is an appendix. That is the only part necessary to resolve high-level incidents.
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[His face is impassive, but...]
Is that truly what you are to all who know your name? Or are you more than just your mind?
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That is all that is needed for high-level incidents.
[He repeats, as if clinging to the words]
That is all I can bring - and all they would need of me. I cannot provide succor or companionship. There is no need to ask for more than my logic.
[There's a sense of fragility to his voice, like cracks spreading across glass in a web-like fashion]
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For a moment, the idea of continuing to push - of potentially pushing hard on those cracks, until he finally shatters - springs to his mind, and...
he wants to.
That urge is too compelling to ignore.]
You don't think your companions care for you, and vice versa, Holmes?
Have you truly become that cold person - someone who only seeks truth and knowledge, regardless of who it hurts?
[He feels solomon shift beside him, as if asking what's happening, but his gaze remains locked on the man in front of him - that ice blue gaze, never once letting Holmes out of his sight.]
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..............
[The silence suddenly seemed much louder, much more oppressive. Some part of him still wants to deny it, that he still cares - still wants to, but he knew his actions on the lostbelts was that of a distant observer. Even the loss of his arm only earned some mild dismay. The medicines staved it off, but he was aware, bit by bit - feelings became harder and harder to summon - and sometimes he wondered, what he should have been feeling when something does happen, and he would draw a blank.
No one noticed. Oh they chide him for an inappropriate remark, more of which he had made, but no one had said anything.]
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That urge - the desire rising in him, to keep pushing, to destroy - it hisses in his ears, whispering smooth, practiced notes...
Unconsciously, he clutches the spot over his heart.
No.
No more.
To do any more would be to destroy everything he hoped to accomplish -
(ah, but how beautiful it would be to see that moment when everything changed without any chance of recovery, no way to go back...)
- and he refused to give into that desire.
And so -
Marisbury turned his back on the silent detective, willing the burning in his chest to subside.]
...I believe I've kept you for long enough.
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