The West Quarter

In the few minutes they had after exiting the shop, a lot had happened before Kakusabi's eyes, amongst other things that she envisioned in the background because all the blurred buildings were starting to cause her to hallucinate. Things she's sure that'll only happen once in multiple lifetimes because firstly, the Holy Grail War happened every 60 years and secondly, the chances of getting a Caster with such vague and curious magic was incredibly low.

First and foremost, she would have to address the fact that Caster pulled a man out of his cloak. 'Just how big is that cloak..? And.. why have a man inside there?' Kakusabi blinked incredulously and held a hand to her stomach whilst taking deep breaths, as to confirm that she was, in fact, not delirious. A full-bodied man, with all his limbs attached and everything. Still breathing, she presumed, by the way Caster held him carefully by the collar of his shirt and not by gripping his hands around the unconscious man's neck. What a considerate magic user. As the magus came to consciousness and addressed Caster, Kakusabi only moved closer towards her partner, if only to get a closer look at the man. Judging by the damaged titanium staff in his hold, she would safely bet on him being a Master as well. The reason for Caster bringing him to his domain, she is not entirely sure, but he seemed to be apart from his servant.

That is, until his servant shows up literally a minute or so after the master was brought here. 'Did he just teleport?!', Teleportation was, to say the least, something that was unbeknown to her as something that was common amongst servants. Therefore, everything that had occurred in the minutes up to the present moment had been entirely new to her. She watched as the servant moved away with his master in his hold, spear in hand and ready for combat.

She had to admit, Lancer's got a good reason to pull a spear on them, but she didn't believe Caster to be the type who embraces mindless violence. Silently, she nodded politely towards them, a simple non-verbal greeting.
 
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The radiant burst of light flickered and shined for but a moment, only to weep from the outstretched wings. Golden tears poured along the edges and ran off the tips of feathered wings, and in the process dimming to a murky dirty glow- robbing Ira of his ethereal beauty. He still had his youthful, handsome looks, but the light of his true form remained tarnished- like old jewelry.

The world around them changed and flickered, losing all familiarity. The vague architecture that lined the impossible city streets began to fade, becoming even more blurred until finally vanishing from existence. In its place a darkness, the only word distantly close enough to describe what engulfed them, began to close in until a feeling of claustrophobia washed over the gathering. Alone, dark, trapped, removed; all words that described the space they inhabited.

"I am what... I am," the towering figure answered in his water-over-broken-stones voice, ignoring Ira's threats, or even acknowledging his existence. Twin green eyes were joined by a third and a fourth beneath the shadows of his hood- piercing stares going right through Ira and centering on Thomas.

"And I offer an..." His six clawed hand withdrew from the space in had held Thomas aloft in, disappearing behind the draping leather cloak. "Opportunity."
 
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"I can agree with Ira on this point Caster," Thomas's surprise faded as angry indignation registered. "Your "opportunity" comes at the cost of another I had chosen to pursue."

"Speak."

The magus met the disconcerting gaze of this strange Servant, stood straighter as a he suppressed a sneer.
 
Ira gave a sidelong glance at his wings as the light from them faded, dripping and turning tarnished, and snorted. "Nice light trick, jangles, but it'll take a little more than that to take the wind out of my sails."

And indeed, despite the visual degradation, the compelling aura of the wings remained just as strong. Though they demanded no particular course of action, mortal eyes that beheld them were subconsciously drawn to Ira, and filled with a sense of awe.

He gave the wings an idle-half beat, their glow intensifying a degree despite the warping effect. Where Kakusabi experienced their alluring, awe-inspiring effects, Thomas would find himself bolstered by the aura - filled with a sense of self-assurance and resolve that stood firm against the oppressive atmosphere. As he did, he lowered himself to the ground, planting his spear and leaning against it with a lazy confidence. "Oh, do I smell a deal brewing? That almost makes up for the kidnapping," he remarked, smirking.
 
Of course, a deal.

Although unusual in a setting such as this, Caster did say he was 'a shopkeeper'. A businessman through and through, good for him. And what better skill do businessman have than negotiating prices, in this case, the commodity being sold is an 'opportunity' and the payment is...

Unknown to her because she still has no idea what Caster is planning so the Magus has decided to not question anything and act like this whole thing was discussed with her and she's fully aware of the situation. Smiling confidently, she gazed at both the master and servant before retreating to her thoughts.

Still behind Caster, Kakusabi wondered if the identities of the two in front of them. A lancer, based on the spear, and a magus. Although she hasn't been getting as much sun as she used to, she should have been able to name most of the magus she meets since they're regularly spoken of by her father. Internally struggling to recall any sort of name from the depths of her bottomless hole of explicit memory, she could only guess for now, who the magus before her was.

Lancer however, she hadn't the faintest clue about. Which is nice, possibly, because that means that this was potential to learn more.
 
The golden spear impacted darkness as firm as stone. Despite not lodging into anything it held its place, or perhaps was held in place, and Ira achieved the same goal; projecting an air of aloofness and brashness that had no effect on the being. Ever the enigmatic figure, Caster did not deign a response, verbal or otherwise, and simply stepped forward. First stride brought him right on top of Ira, towering over the blond haired spirit. The second carried him through Ira, engulfing the lithe figure, wings and all. The third looking down on Thomas.

In Ira's frame of reference time had yet to move, and the four were still in their places at the start of the conversation. To Oshiro she saw no eddy in the stream. From Thomas's perspective the flow of time grew into a winding river across vast distances. What was a moment for his counterpart was a dozen lifetimes of darkness, and countless deaths at the demands his body made upon him. Each time he expired awareness snapped back and he lived out that slow, dry death again and again- with each cycle bringing a distant figure ever closer before finally the disparate timelines finally met once more- their individual realities rubber banding as they connected.

"I offer you an alternative to your wish," Caster's gravely voice rang out, echoing in the empty void around them, and signaling to Ira that the beast was now between him and his charge. "For your desire comes at a cost paid by billions of your own kind, and countless others who call this speck of reality home, but what I offer, its price will only be paid by you."

A large hand reached out from beneath the robes, curled in a fist but one finger tip- who's pointed claw caught hold of Thomas's being and lifted up so he could stare eye to eye with the giant.

"I will show you the Root which you worship."
 
Time's flow seemed strange at first, as to the magus eyes he alone remained aware. Yet try as he might, no action seemed to elicit response, from neither his limbs nor voice. Seconds turned into minutes, became hours, transfigured into days, grew into weeks, evolved into months, ascended to years.

Then decades.

He felt the ravages of time, was acutely aware of every atrophy, knowing the depravations of starvation and what came beyond, the horrors of dehydration and its toll on living flesh. The accelerated awareness of his mind, the dedication into the arts of mental partitioning that so intrigued him seemed at first a curse, his sanity fraying as perceptions of his suffering and agony stretched the long torture into something beyond, a living purgatory. Even as the decades stretched into a century and then some, as his skin twisted into something like leather, his muscles withered, dry, near dead things pulsing with the sluggish flow of blood as thick as decaying molasses, his mind worked at a furious pace, analyzing, cataloguing, enduring.

He'd noticed, of course, by the first time he succumbed to this twisted time. There was something else that moved. It just hadn't finished its first step.
It had taken so long to notice the almost imperceptible shift in position, yet even as he breathed his last the orbs, little more than sloughing sacks of fluid hanging from his skull, followed its path.

Then again. And again. A cycle of suffering with no seeming end, the observations of Caster's progress becoming a detached, ephemeral observation amidst pain, and yet...

Sometime in the cycle, he stopped noticing the pain. It remained, just falling into the twilight of sensory input he no longer needed acknowledge with conscious thought. With force of will alone, Thomas realized that he was able to conceptualize his life's work, knowing with firsthand knowledge what he was working towards, understanding what his efforts were in answer to. The weaknesses of the flesh, the body, the mind, in the exquisite details of countless times experienced, not by notes and tomes, but with direct observation.

Lifetimes passed.

So it was that when Caster's clawed hand reached out for him, Thomas grasped its wrist within his hand, rising with it.

"Elaborate then, if you presume to understand," he responded almost conversationally.
 
Ira spun around, huffing in irritation as Caster was abruptly behind him. There were few things that rankled him more than being ignored. Still, he wasn't an idiot. It had become apparent that whatever in-between space they were in, it was very much Caster's turf. Fighting here wouldn't end well, especially when he was fresh out of a separate brawl and temporarily down an artefact. Reality seemed to obey the other servant's whims here, and that wasn't something you could easily fight.

So for the moment, he simply folded his arms, shooting Kakusabi a mildly incredulous look. "I'm honestly feeling a little overlooked right now. He always this rude? You ought to buy him a book on manners in this plane of the multiverse. I guess etiquette isn't big in cthulhuland, or wherever jangles is from."

Shrugging, he paced around Caster to place himself within arm's reach of Thomas. "Whatever he's selling, I'm dubious about buying," he remarked. "Price is usually too high with these spooky enigma types. It'll probably end up being your firstborn or something. Or I guess it might go abstract, like... I dunno, your sense of whimsy? I feel like he could probably do with one of those. Maybe his broke?"
 
Shifting her gaze towards Lancer, she jumped in her skin as she realised Caster had moved to a much more comfortable position between the servant and magus, making it more difficult for her to follow his previous instructions to the female. She took in a sharp breath and mulled over the situation.

Obviously, this was Caster's Domain and it would be fine and dandy for him to have an advantage here, but manipulating the fabric of reality and casually hindering one's perspective wasn't something she had even entertained as plausible. Who exactly was Caster..? Her ignorance to his identity did not bother her before, and it didn't bother her now, but her curiosity was, to say the least, piqued. She must've either: lucked out in the choosing of servants- since she didn't even bother using a catalyst for summoning nor a stanza that would summon a specific class- or fate looked down upon her and pitied her pathetic soul so it sent her this beautiful bastard.

Replying to Lancer's comments, due to the fact the other two were busy making a deal, she only shook her head "If there's anything I'm certain of, it's that Caster wouldn't ask for something as cliché as your firstborn, and I have no doubt he has the ability to take something abstract...but... I feel as if he's aiming for something more in this transaction."

She wasn't quite sure what Caster would be getting out of this, but she had enough trust in him to not question his actions out loud and keep them to herself. After all, it wouldn't do well to annoy Caster in his own domain.

"I'm sure your master will make the right decision, although he might not trust Caster completely, you do not need to fully trust another to complete a business transaction with them."
 
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Caster's flesh was neither cold nor hot, smooth nor rough. It felt like nothing. As if Thomas was grabbing at the very fabric of space around him. There wasn't any sensation even at the point where the tip of Caster's claw met his flesh, or when the "servant" lifted his body up. The only feeling that graced the feeble human's senses was the feeling of being watched. Being watched by an innumerable legion of observers in far off distant places that he could never reach.

"The brightest fires lure the greatest dangers, and beyond the stars..." A pause hung in that void between them, almost as tangible as they were. The massive hood shifted ever so slightly, addressing Ira's presence for the first time as well as catching Oshiro in his gaze. "Lurk horrors far beyond any of you, and with each stroke of the fire, they hunger for your reality."

The gaze slowly shifted back to Thomas. "I will take you to the Root, and let you drink of it's knowledge, but only you may know its secrets."
 
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"And the cost, Caster?" Thomas inquired of the entity. He felt the brush of a mental contact from Ira. "If you are truly capable of granting me access to the Root, what is your price for the bargain?"

He nodded at Lancer, offering Caster a faint smile. "Odd as it may be, my Servant is my broker in this. I'd rather this be formal, if we are to reach an agreement."

Much as he might have liked to, it was difficult to adapt his posture to one more suited to bargaining from such a...disadvantaged position. Brushing aside his indignation at a chance missed, he settled for raising his eyebrows inquiringly.
 
Ira nodded his head, looking up at Caster assessingly. 'Man, whatever's beneath that hood is probably real fuckin' ugly,' he mused to himself idly for a moment before speaking. "Adding to Thomas' question... how is it you'll be taking him to the Root, and letting him learn of it? Will the process - either the transport, or being there, or learning the knowledge itself, or anything in between or afterwards-but-in-relation-to all of that - harm him, to your knowledge? And in what way, if at all, will his silence when it comes to that knowledge be enforced?"

He paused, considering. "I have more, but I'll let you answer those first before we get into the real nitty gritty," he added after some thought, waving a hand as though to prompt the other servant to continue.
 
Not only is Lancer blessed with god-like dazzling looks but he's also got a pretty good head on his shoulders. Literally and figuratively. How annoying. Kakusabi only shook her head at the conversation being proceeded back-and-forth with the other magus, his servant and Caster. There would be no reason for Caster to harm 'Thomas' during the time span of the deal or offer a deal that would harm him, considering it would be much easier to harm him in the current situation. Which leads Kakusabi to the conclusion that there is, in fact, a much bigger picture to all this and Caster has thought his way through the game. The rhythmic beating of the organ in her chest beat wildly against the orb pressed against it. Although plans are not always possible to follow through, having one for a vague image of the future is always a brilliant idea.

For another thing, Kakusabi now learnt both the Servant and Magus names. Ira, the Lancer, and Thomas, the magus. Listening to the conversation and statements previously mentioned by all parties, everyone seems to know each other, or at least, know each others' names. This proposes somewhat of a conundrum for Kakusabi as she tries to keep up with the conversation. It has already been established that Caster is far beyond what she, and as far as she knew the rest of the magic community as well, understood. Lancer is also impeccably fast and is able to 'teleport' from one place to another, from how far she wasn't sure but the Oshiro house was far from any other and well-secluded in the west quarter, which for now, she assumes is where they still are in the 'real' world. The magus held a broken metal staff and a glove. There was nothing to suggest what type of thaumatargy he specialised in, however.
 
Ira's hand froze mid wave. There was no sense of a restraining force around the limb, nor within in his mind. In fact as far as the servant's senses were concerned he was still dismissively waving towards Caster. While Thomas was in no position to move as freely as Ira, he too was rendered in that same statue like state. The only one who could freely move for the moment was Oshiro.

"I will... show you," was the only response Caster gave to the barrage of answers. With that all three of them were rendered fully immobile as the darkness around them began to pull back and fade, and along with it the towering figure that was Caster.

A sight indescribable replaced the swaddling darkness. Forces and things that could not bare mortal names stood before them; dancing in patterns so complex that only the word random was appropriate, moving in ways that were whole realities in and of themselves, true ontology married with the axiomatic that made even the sciences nothing more than ancient, tribal myth.

Their glimpse was brief, if such a word could exist in a place were time was a small piece in an incomprehensible ecosystem, and like a lens focusing in, the darkness returned. This time it held its distance, and shielded the three observers from the depths beyond, leaving only four things to view; themselves, a beautiful pearl of light, twisting and mighty clawed fingers writhing through the void, and the numberless constellations of sickly green stars peering down upon them and the pearl in the center of the darkness.

"This... is your reality, the whole of all your existence," Caster's voice boomed in the void, moving the three in separate orbits around the mote of light. Each of the three were held "aloft" by the great clawed fingers, as if they were valued coins. "Just as I have plucked you from it, I can return you- wherever I desire."
 
The disorientation of the entire experience was perhaps moderately less jarring for Ira than it was for the two mortals along for the ride, but that wasn't saying altogether that much at this point. Even for an immortal, otherworldly being, being plucked out of reality altogether was hardly a walk in the park.

'Well, this is hardly fair. I'm probably gonna have to fight this guy at some point, . I guess I hope being erased from reality is a temporary condition as far as the grail war's concerned?' He thought to himself. If nothing else, this whole experience had taken the wind somewhat out of his sails. He was prideful, sure, but not stupid. He was starting to get the sense that this ... entity, was very, very, very far out of his league.

"You've uh, made your point I think," Ira remarked outwardly, glancing at the speechless Thomas. "I feel like everyone involved would probably appreciate being, er, 'unplucked'. Probably. At a guess."

 
The silence was deafening in response to Ira's request. Then in a flash the darkness started to collapse once more, engulfing the party tighter and tighter. The great green stars disappeared in the miasma of nothingness and the tendril like fingers shrunk as their roots fell into the bottomless abyss all around them. Only the pointed claws continued to hold them in place until even they evaporated into nothingness.

"Consider this a gesture of... good will," Caster remarked, his voice much closer and far softer. The dark around them started to peel back, flowing to a singular point, and piercing light parted the void. Caster's form began to materialize in front of the party, still cloaked in the old leather, creaking leather and the numerous pantheon of trinkets and fetishes. A thousand green stars peered through the darkness of his hood, blinking out of existence one by one until all that remained were two, large orbs.

Eventually the light waned just as the darkness had, and the brilliance that had blinded them was revealed to be nothing more than midday sun. Mundane as ever, and basking them in its warmth. All around them was the verdant landscaping of Oshiro's family's estate, and in the distance the mansion she called home.

"The cost is that you share none of what you learn," the tall figure added, "and that while you may continue to play this... child's game, fighting and slaying and claiming pitiful victories, but when this game is over, and you fall in my shadow..." The draping hood turned slowly from Thomas to Ira and back again. "Take the fall."
 
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"No."

Thomas's expression had been neutral up until Caster had finished his offer, but now it hardened. While he could stomach revealing none of what he gained from the Root, he would not merely surrender his right to continue to challenge for the Grail. His efforts had earned him the right to try, and this daemon creature would not interfere.

"You may possess the power to bypass what I cannot, but I will not surrender the right of my Servant and myself to continue to fight for the Grail. You can keep your power, Caster, but you've already stolen one opportunity for us to progress. I'll not bargain the end of the road we chose, no matter the offer. The contract I share with Ira is not some chip in whatever games you play."

His hands closed to fists, crossing them against his chest. "If you've nothing else to offer, then I'll be getting back to my child's game."

He sneered his last words, contempt veritably dripping in his voice.
 
Ira's expression had turned sour at Caster's offer, and his eyes had flicked to Thomas, awaiting his response. Even if he hadn't had his own wish, bowing out of a contest like this would have hurt his pride too much to contemplate agreeing with it. When Thomas gave his swift reply, though, his grin returned. If he'd needed any further confirmation that he'd been matched with a good choice of master, he had it. He added nothing verbally for the time being, content with being quietly pleased with the decision. Hopefully this wasn't the part where Caster 'plucked them from reality' more permanently, and rendered the whole discussion moot. That would put a real downer on things.
 
"I hate to say you're wrong," Kakusabi piped up, clinging closer to Caster, "but I do believe that this is a rather pleasant deal- on both sides." Briefly she closed her eyes, taking a longer pause to contemplate her next words carefully. The family mansion stood in the background, it's strait-laced design a stark contrast to it's simple, nature-filled surrounding. "Us, magus, have always strove for more knowledge. I do believe that the objective is mutual for most, if not all magus. Access to the Root is something that only few can achieve, much less being offered a chance to be escorted to its location and obtain knowledge from it. For the root many have paid a heavy price; abandoned their dignity, lost their sanity, or even relinquished their lives. I think the cost of your pride seems small compared to what others have paid."

Her lips curved upwards with a gentle tug, a genuine smile showing no ill-intent. The comforting warmth of the sun finally basking their faces added a glow to her complexion that rivalled Ira's, or at least as close as a mortal could come to rivalling his radiance. She took a step towards Thomas, still staying close to Caster, with both hands clasped tightly as she exhaled deeply and continued her train of thought.

"I do not wish to engage in an aggressive debate, but if you are going to reject such a generous offer, then I must ask. What do you have to fight for?"
 
"My reason to fight is to continue the research I have continued from those before me, the results of which will benefit humanity, not merely us mages." Thomas's voice lost some of it's edge as he watched Caster's master. He turned to glance at Ira before he continued. "This opportunity to accelerate that research, however, comes with a condition. For the sake of attaining my goals, I will not abandon those of the partner for whom I contacted, and made a pact with."

His thoughts strayed momentarily to his father, to the deformations that necessitated a closed casket burial, refused autopsy. To his own injuries occurred over the years. He shook his head, offering her a wry smile. "My pride is secondary to my methods, but this opportunity is not does not just involve me."

"I cannot accept."
 
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