[not many people spend their whole lives waiting for a war, but rin knows that hers is coming.
in just a few days time, fuyuki city will be embroiled in a battle between seven different pairs, Masters and Servants who only find themselves chasing after their wishes. something that's worth putting their lives on the line, and everyone else's lives, too. rin has no grand design, only her pride. it doesn't change that she feels very strongly that she's going to win this one. all that's left is to determine who will be at her side when she does.
the gems in her palm coalesce as she speaks the summoning incantation - drip drip drip drip drip - and she feels the energy run its course through the room, her as the central conduit. it sparks through the summoning circle on the floor, electrifying the air. the power is intoxicating, and she finds herself riding the wave of it through the rest of the spell until it reaches a sudden, booming conclusion. all the energy that was pooled in the room erupts, sending the nearby furniture flying and rin to her knees—but she's conscious. an average mage would be knocked out from the effort, but she's different. she's rin tohsaka.]
Perfect, that was perfect!
[ - or it should be, if her Servant was summoned in front of her? but she hears something upstairs knock over, and puts the pieces together quickly. she rushes up the stairs from her father's basement study, and looks to identify the new individual in her living room. a Heroic Spirit—no, more accurately, her Heroic Spirit]
You. [polite as ever, huh rin] Are you my Servant?
[ from what renji gathered in the last hundred-or-so grail wars, heroic spirits manifested from their legendary influence and reputation as much as their deeds. ego aside, while his feats in soul society and the living world may have been significant, he's iffy on their supposed legendary-ness. he hadn't earned an impressive amount of popularity from he'd done, and while he may have enjoyed it, he was content with only being the lieutenant of the 6th division. any other accolades would have been icing on the cake.
if renji was meant to be here, he thinks, the others must be scattered somewhere through time along with him. fortunately or otherwise, he hasn't met with any of them just yet. (there are slim pickings of those who wouldn't be sabers, after all.)
this war could be different, though. he always thinks this the instant after he's summoned, just after breathing and walking. as if to remind him of everything, there are images of people he can't ever forget—their names and stories, the weight of their absence, all of it freshly felt. it was like he'd fallen alone into an earth-deep cavern and was just waking up.
but no. right now he's in someone's living room, and even though he arrived in a bolt of fluorescent blue light, it looks like he crash-landed into it. a quick look tells him that no one is in the room with him—and ok, weird, there definitely should be.
someone yells from far off, and a familiar sensation follows after it. from the staircase, mana hums faintly in the air like a tuning fork, and renji's body subconsciously reaches for it. renji was power-hungry before it became a necessity; a palpable source of strength is difficult not to gravitate towards.
when rin pushes open her busted door, her servant isn't lounging on the pile of broken living room furniture. instead he's standing beside it, straightening his bandana before dusting off the sleeves of his shihakusho. he doesn't even spare a glance at her, seemingly preoccupied. within arm's reach is a narrow sword also standing upright in its sheath, the tip lodged deeply into the floorboards.
what does turn his head is that crass greeting. this isn't the first time that he's been set up with someone her age; it's the attitude of some of these mages that he never seems to get used to. it's somehow worse to endure from people smaller than him.
he is hers, unmistakably. whether or not that's a good thing is yet to be seen, and she's certainly not helping her case.
he sets her with a flat look and plucks zabimaru from the floor like a giant splinter. ]
All right. Another era without any manners. Got it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
summoning.
in just a few days time, fuyuki city will be embroiled in a battle between seven different pairs, Masters and Servants who only find themselves chasing after their wishes. something that's worth putting their lives on the line, and everyone else's lives, too. rin has no grand design, only her pride. it doesn't change that she feels very strongly that she's going to win this one. all that's left is to determine who will be at her side when she does.
the gems in her palm coalesce as she speaks the summoning incantation - drip drip drip drip drip - and she feels the energy run its course through the room, her as the central conduit. it sparks through the summoning circle on the floor, electrifying the air. the power is intoxicating, and she finds herself riding the wave of it through the rest of the spell until it reaches a sudden, booming conclusion. all the energy that was pooled in the room erupts, sending the nearby furniture flying and rin to her knees—but she's conscious. an average mage would be knocked out from the effort, but she's different. she's rin tohsaka.]
Perfect, that was perfect!
[ - or it should be, if her Servant was summoned in front of her? but she hears something upstairs knock over, and puts the pieces together quickly. she rushes up the stairs from her father's basement study, and looks to identify the new individual in her living room. a Heroic Spirit—no, more accurately, her Heroic Spirit]
You. [polite as ever, huh rin] Are you my Servant?
no subject
if renji was meant to be here, he thinks, the others must be scattered somewhere through time along with him. fortunately or otherwise, he hasn't met with any of them just yet. (there are slim pickings of those who wouldn't be sabers, after all.)
this war could be different, though. he always thinks this the instant after he's summoned, just after breathing and walking. as if to remind him of everything, there are images of people he can't ever forget—their names and stories, the weight of their absence, all of it freshly felt. it was like he'd fallen alone into an earth-deep cavern and was just waking up.
but no. right now he's in someone's living room, and even though he arrived in a bolt of fluorescent blue light, it looks like he crash-landed into it. a quick look tells him that no one is in the room with him—and ok, weird, there definitely should be.
someone yells from far off, and a familiar sensation follows after it. from the staircase, mana hums faintly in the air like a tuning fork, and renji's body subconsciously reaches for it. renji was power-hungry before it became a necessity; a palpable source of strength is difficult not to gravitate towards.
when rin pushes open her busted door, her servant isn't lounging on the pile of broken living room furniture. instead he's standing beside it, straightening his bandana before dusting off the sleeves of his shihakusho. he doesn't even spare a glance at her, seemingly preoccupied. within arm's reach is a narrow sword also standing upright in its sheath, the tip lodged deeply into the floorboards.
what does turn his head is that crass greeting. this isn't the first time that he's been set up with someone her age; it's the attitude of some of these mages that he never seems to get used to. it's somehow worse to endure from people smaller than him.
he is hers, unmistakably. whether or not that's a good thing is yet to be seen, and she's certainly not helping her case.
he sets her with a flat look and plucks zabimaru from the floor like a giant splinter. ]
All right. Another era without any manners. Got it.