A month passed with failed summons. It was what Lord El-Melloi II would consider the very end of his attempts, as he felt himself growing more and more morose at each failure. And then, as if knowing this was a last ditch attempt, Iskandar responded.
Not his Iskandar, but the young man who would become the King of Conquerors. The difference didn't matter to Lord El-Melloi II. His king was here, and moreover, his king wanted him around. Wanted his opinions, his advice, relied on him. They were as any king and close advisor, and if that was as close as Lord El-Melloi II could ever get to seeing Iskandar again, then he was a very happy man indeed.
Well, in most ways. There was still that little bit of heartache that the man who stood beside Waver hadn't quite responded as expected, but to complain at all felt like he was ungrateful for the way Fate had turned out. There was also the fact that with Alexander present, Lord El-Melloi II had seemingly dropped every other relationship in Chaldea in order to make up for lost time. Like anyone with a new dating partner, really, which spoke ill of him.
Realizing that he was behaving that way was humbling after Alexander was the one to point it out (he was so keen eyed, even at his current age), Lord El-Melloi II knew he had to do an apology tour. And that? That began with Roman.
Approaching the control room (he thought it was where the good doctor was), he called out simply, "Roman? You here?"
Roman had tried to do some damage control after the summons failed. He gave a number of excuses, from bad machine calibration, to the lack of a specific catalyst or any link from that hero to Chaldea which was what was wrong. Neither were complete lies. But when he finally succeeded, he felt a burden to be lifted from his shoulders. Although, that was probably not the king he remembered, the shadows dissipated from El Melloi II's face.
He didn't begrudge his neglect. Roman would never demand his time when he seemed to be in a bittersweet sort of state of bliss, trying to play advisor to the Heroic Spirit he admired so much. Besides, he was a busy man. Chaldea demanded his undivided attention more than it looked, and, despite the siren's call to slack, he had no measurement when came to his dedication to his work.
There were also the dreams that visited him every night. They began innocently first: he was in a cafe with Marisbilly and Lev, the one they used to frequent that was close to the heart of the Clock Tower. He didn't remember what they were discussing, but suddenly Marisbilly stopped talking and Lev stared at him for a long time. He uttered a strange number before it faded to black. The dream repeated itself the following night and the other, and for all month, the same number. Sometimes he wrote it down slept walking, using a scrap of paper on his nightstand. He realized it now. Those were coordinates.
When Lord El Melloi seeks him out, the control room is empty except for Roman. He's glued to the chair, eyes scanning the screen, he's attempting to pinpoint where these coordinates lead him. Maybe is just meaningless, but just to satisfy his curiosity. Before he presses enter, he hears a familiar voice. Quickly, he rises and drops what he's doing, a smile tugs on his lips to welcome the Caster Pseudo Servant.
"Oh, Lord El Melloi II, good afternoon...?" Tone unsure, eyes saunter down his wristwatch. "What can I do for you?"
There is comfort in the fact Roman is where he suspected. Roman is reliable, as much as he is a total dork, and it feels reassuring to have that. Alexander is young and wild and unpredictable, and for all the whirlwind it has been, both physically and emotionally, there is a call to well, balance things for a bit. There are few better counterbalances than Roman.
"I..." he says, trying not to be distracted by the screen. "I wanted to come and apologize. I haven't seen you much."
And I feel bad about it. That much is evident, and Lord El-Melloi II moves to stand perpendicular to the console, hip resting against it. He sighs, a little weary, a lot embarrassed.
Roman's green eyes open wide, visibly taken aback by the honest apology. He fidgets his coat, feeling bad about showing his surprise. It's not Lord El Melloi II's fault, but he's used to not expect things from people. He doesn't think anyone owned him anything and maybe that's the problem. It's not a healthy way of life, but it's one that has managed to keep him mostly sane.
"Uh, well, you didn't have to-" he finally says, giving him a helpless smile, "But I'm glad you did." He thinks so, that warmth he experiences is surely gratitude. He gestures for him to sit on a close chair, one placed at Roman's right.
"You looked so content that I think everyone who knows you wouldn't begrudge your actions."
Lord El-Melloi II isn't terribly shocked that an apology is fairly new to Roman. Not because all of Chaldea takes him for granted (but they do), but mostly because he's the kind shrug it all off as no big deal, no apology needed. All the more reason to say something, in his estimation.
He flops into the chair with all the grace and elegance of a much younger man, the chair rolling a few feet backwards from the flop's power. With a begrudging groan, he scoots the chair back over, shaking his head a little.
"You didn't do it on purpose," Roman assures him, waving his hand far too quickly. He's accepted the apology already, no need for the poor man to continue to beat himself up over so little.
He chokes a laugh to Lord El Melloi's undignified seating. He's acting a few decades younger, maybe he feels that way too. He wishes he's brought something more than his secret stash of energy drinks and he can't offer those.
Roman sags on the command chair, nodding as he answers: "Your brows don't wrinkle as much and there's less frowning." So maybe he's caught a few smiles too, but he doesn't want to worry him. His grouchy reputation must remain intact.
"...I will admit, I'm aware of the less frowning." Fuck, he did smile around Alexander. It was impossible not to. Charming youth skill be damned, it was still his king, still Iskandar, and he was here! And that made everything else feel so much easier in comparison. God, he was still worried about his students, but...but if he had his king then there could be even more hope.
Quietly, Lord El-Melloi II's eyes went to Roman's screen, curious and worried in equal measure.
"Oh, good, Ritsuka was wondering about that briefly," Roman chuckles lightly. Some were first worried he got sick to behave so giddy in his El Melloi II-ish way. "I'm glad you could summon him at last," happiness is a contagious thing, it makes him smile from the bottom of his heart. There's still something he'd want to ask him about how he reconnected with his Servant but it's too late.
He's taken aback for a split of a second by the switch. His eyes flicker at the screen, giving a helpless shrug.
"Er, no more than the usual," he answers vaguely, "Why are you asking?" Does he look more tired?
"Glad to know my contentment is that remarkable," he says with all the dryness that he can muster. It's...well, it's good for throwing peole off, even if for once, the expressions of joy are not calculated.
Roman looks that surprised by the question? Lord El-Melloi II simply shrugs. "You were concentrating more intensely than I think I've ever seen before, that's all."
"It's good for you," Roman says, with an encouraging nod, "Laughter isn't just good for the soul, but also it reduces the risks of cardiovascular-related problems." There are places he can do this without being watched. Chaldea is big enough.
"Ah-oh," he isn't sure what to say, feeling like a kid who has been caught raiding the cookie jar before dinner. He's silent, debating inwardly if he can tell Lord El Melloi II, he's yet to tell Leonardo and even Mari about his dreams. "I came across some weird coordinates," he explains vaguely, poking his fingers together, "I was trying to find out where do they lead."
Lord El-Melloi II snorts slightly. "Maybe it will offset all of my smoking then."
He knew it was a bad habit. But those cigars served other purposes than just giving him something to do with his fingers -- they were all wrapped up in his mystic codes and self protection.
Quietly, his eyes rest on Roman. With him, there's no searching for lies or half truths. Anything Roman decides not to disclose is in fact a decision to be respected, that much is a truth that Lord El-Melloi II has learned.
"Speaking of that, you should try to moderate that when this ends," Roman advises him, as his doctor and friend. He'll turn the blind eye now because as a Pseudo Servant, it won't harm his body. He's more necessary for his students e gives himself the credit for.
He fidgets a little and doesn't answer for a while. It's not because he's keeping this as a secret, but because he's embarrassed to bring it up. "Um, well that is," he tries to search for the right words to explain, "Leonardo doesn't know this yet." He feels bad as if he's sneaking behind her back, but she'll probably laugh if he told her of his dream and then made a big deal about the coordinates that lead anywhere. "I had had the same dream for a week, maybe more now," he continues, taking a long breath. "I'm in a cafe near the Clock Tower, with Marisbilly and Professor Lev and, Lev turns to look at me and tries to tell me something."
"I was wondering when that was going to come up." Knew it, and also damnit! There's a quick escape from this topic though and Lord El-Melloi II runs after it as soon as he can!
And while what Roman says is a bit alarming, it is also painfully important. Lord El-Melloi II leans in, one eye on the door to ensure that DaVinci doesn't burst in and dress them both down for keeping secrets. Once Roman has revealed all, he takes a sobering breath. "That's...concerning. Do you usually have prophetic dreams?" In this life, he means.
"I can't help it, I'm a doctor," Roman smiles sheepishly. His habit's also very distracting. Even if he also has plenty of those, he only abuses them because of the stressing circumstances.
His hands rest on his lap. "I used to be a clairvoyant," he answers him, "And my soul used to be connected with," he does a vague hand gesture. Revelation, that kind of thing. It's unsettling to him now who is a normal human being. "I didn't often have prophetic dreams, I could see things wide awake but I know those happen." Did he ever dream in life? He blinks, unable to remember. Maybe his wish is being unravelled a little, he doesn't know how or why. "In the last days, um-I also slept walk and wrote down the coordinates with a scrap of paper next to my nightstand." That also happens with prophetic dreams. But it's never happened before.
"I know, I know. Harass me about it when we're through the other side." Roman would be there and need something to do with all his free time, after all.
Carefully, Lord El-Melloi II listens to the explanation, nodding along to show that he is listening. It's sight, real Sight that the man used to have. It...but it doesn't feel like Grail Interference. It's something else.
"It's unclear what the spirits of magi can accomplish after their deaths. Perhaps this is an exercise of power on their end, and nothing on your own."
"Oh, I have permission to drive you mad with my pestering?" Romani asks, almost beaming despite his exhaustion. The fatigue always starts to creep when he's relaxing like he's doing now.
He is certain the Grail didn't do this. He'll know, in a sense, that's why he's a little unsettled.
"Do you think Professor Lev arranged this message before," he pauses, taking a long breath, "His passing?" Then it must be important. He has to see where the coordinates lead him.
Lord El-Melloi II groans. "Was that what I said Roman!? No, it was not! Maybe I'll be dead and I'll just haunt you after, have you ever thought about that as an option? I'll knock over your laptop every time Magi Mari's on the screen!"
Empty threats. But he was on a roll! A good one! Or at least he thought so, it probably was less entertaining to Roman.
"Maybe...maybe not. There's a force at work here that I don't like though, it worries me."
"Ah, but you see that only makes me want to pester you more about it," Roman laughs his fatigue away, imagining the curse wraith of El Melloi II haunting his laptop in retaliation for being forbidden to smoke.
Sadly, he's not looking too intimidating.
"Ah, should I stop?" Roman asks, feeling foolish for trying to trace the coordinates, he isn't even convinced this isn't the work of his exhausted imagination.
"We'll be in an endless feedback loop at this rate," he says bluntly, daring to name the thing for what it is. There are worse people to haunt though, and...well, he's going to absolutely haunt Reines as-is.
Regardless, it isn't as important as what Roman has revealed, so Lord El-Melloi II resolves to focus on that instead.
"No, I don't think that's right either. May I ask where it is they have pointed so far?"
"You're right, we can talk about this again in the future," Romani agrees, with the lingering warning he's not going to drop it. He may appear a fainthearted person, but he's deeply stubborn as well.
The shift to a more tense topic makes his expression falter.
"Uh, I don't know," he admits, glancing at the turned off monitors, "I was about to find out when you walked in." They are odd and familiar, but he doesn't know why.
Roman studies his expression, this is the first time he's looked so flustered over this. "Oh, sure, I don't mind," he accepts even though he'll normally wouldn't want to. The budding feelings of friendship were enough to entrust him with his truth. What is this small secret?
We'd have done the same if Leonardo had surprised him instead.
Taking a long breath, he turns on the screens of the panel once more, re-entering the coordinates. He holds his breath and waits until SHEBA fixes its lenses on CHALDEAS, and... "No results?" He tries again, just to be sure, maybe it's all a dumb dream, which relieves him, but there's something that's bothering him.
Lord El-Melloi II watches as Roman enters the coordinates onto the screen. He attempts the careful balance of leaning in and not getting in the way, managing to pull it off with a certain level of success.
Quietly he watches the screens load, and then..........nothing?
"...Is there a missing number in either of the coordinates that would lead to a result like this?"
"No, I'm sure I didn't mistype," Roman says, features hardening. "There's nothing there." Is it because time there no longer exists and can be observed or-
"Something outside the world?" he blurts out, stroking his face in concern. The other side, or is it- No, that's impossible. He wishes he could remember that location, but a lot of his perception dulled. Maybe he should try to observe it manually.
If you were trying to talk to someone in a dream, there was no giving them information this useless. Lord El-Melloi II shook his head, squinting at the screen in hopes that it would reveal all it's secrets.
"Can we get a live view of of that area? Even if it's nothing?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Not his Iskandar, but the young man who would become the King of Conquerors. The difference didn't matter to Lord El-Melloi II. His king was here, and moreover, his king wanted him around. Wanted his opinions, his advice, relied on him. They were as any king and close advisor, and if that was as close as Lord El-Melloi II could ever get to seeing Iskandar again, then he was a very happy man indeed.
Well, in most ways. There was still that little bit of heartache that the man who stood beside Waver hadn't quite responded as expected, but to complain at all felt like he was ungrateful for the way Fate had turned out. There was also the fact that with Alexander present, Lord El-Melloi II had seemingly dropped every other relationship in Chaldea in order to make up for lost time. Like anyone with a new dating partner, really, which spoke ill of him.
Realizing that he was behaving that way was humbling after Alexander was the one to point it out (he was so keen eyed, even at his current age), Lord El-Melloi II knew he had to do an apology tour. And that? That began with Roman.
Approaching the control room (he thought it was where the good doctor was), he called out simply, "Roman? You here?"
no subject
He didn't begrudge his neglect. Roman would never demand his time when he seemed to be in a bittersweet sort of state of bliss, trying to play advisor to the Heroic Spirit he admired so much. Besides, he was a busy man. Chaldea demanded his undivided attention more than it looked, and, despite the siren's call to slack, he had no measurement when came to his dedication to his work.
There were also the dreams that visited him every night. They began innocently first: he was in a cafe with Marisbilly and Lev, the one they used to frequent that was close to the heart of the Clock Tower. He didn't remember what they were discussing, but suddenly Marisbilly stopped talking and Lev stared at him for a long time. He uttered a strange number before it faded to black. The dream repeated itself the following night and the other, and for all month, the same number. Sometimes he wrote it down slept walking, using a scrap of paper on his nightstand. He realized it now. Those were coordinates.
When Lord El Melloi seeks him out, the control room is empty except for Roman. He's glued to the chair, eyes scanning the screen, he's attempting to pinpoint where these coordinates lead him. Maybe is just meaningless, but just to satisfy his curiosity. Before he presses enter, he hears a familiar voice. Quickly, he rises and drops what he's doing, a smile tugs on his lips to welcome the Caster Pseudo Servant.
"Oh, Lord El Melloi II, good afternoon...?" Tone unsure, eyes saunter down his wristwatch. "What can I do for you?"
no subject
"I..." he says, trying not to be distracted by the screen. "I wanted to come and apologize. I haven't seen you much."
And I feel bad about it. That much is evident, and Lord El-Melloi II moves to stand perpendicular to the console, hip resting against it. He sighs, a little weary, a lot embarrassed.
"And that's unacceptable to me."
no subject
"Uh, well, you didn't have to-" he finally says, giving him a helpless smile, "But I'm glad you did." He thinks so, that warmth he experiences is surely gratitude. He gestures for him to sit on a close chair, one placed at Roman's right.
"You looked so content that I think everyone who knows you wouldn't begrudge your actions."
no subject
Lord El-Melloi II isn't terribly shocked that an apology is fairly new to Roman. Not because all of Chaldea takes him for granted (but they do), but mostly because he's the kind shrug it all off as no big deal, no apology needed. All the more reason to say something, in his estimation.
He flops into the chair with all the grace and elegance of a much younger man, the chair rolling a few feet backwards from the flop's power. With a begrudging groan, he scoots the chair back over, shaking his head a little.
"Has the change really been that visible?"
no subject
He chokes a laugh to Lord El Melloi's undignified seating. He's acting a few decades younger, maybe he feels that way too. He wishes he's brought something more than his secret stash of energy drinks and he can't offer those.
Roman sags on the command chair, nodding as he answers: "Your brows don't wrinkle as much and there's less frowning." So maybe he's caught a few smiles too, but he doesn't want to worry him. His grouchy reputation must remain intact.
no subject
Quietly, Lord El-Melloi II's eyes went to Roman's screen, curious and worried in equal measure.
"You're not overworking yourself, are you?"
no subject
He's taken aback for a split of a second by the switch. His eyes flicker at the screen, giving a helpless shrug.
"Er, no more than the usual," he answers vaguely, "Why are you asking?" Does he look more tired?
no subject
Roman looks that surprised by the question? Lord El-Melloi II simply shrugs. "You were concentrating more intensely than I think I've ever seen before, that's all."
no subject
"Ah-oh," he isn't sure what to say, feeling like a kid who has been caught raiding the cookie jar before dinner. He's silent, debating inwardly if he can tell Lord El Melloi II, he's yet to tell Leonardo and even Mari about his dreams. "I came across some weird coordinates," he explains vaguely, poking his fingers together, "I was trying to find out where do they lead."
no subject
He knew it was a bad habit. But those cigars served other purposes than just giving him something to do with his fingers -- they were all wrapped up in his mystic codes and self protection.
Quietly, his eyes rest on Roman. With him, there's no searching for lies or half truths. Anything Roman decides not to disclose is in fact a decision to be respected, that much is a truth that Lord El-Melloi II has learned.
"Weird....weird how?"
no subject
He fidgets a little and doesn't answer for a while. It's not because he's keeping this as a secret, but because he's embarrassed to bring it up. "Um, well that is," he tries to search for the right words to explain, "Leonardo doesn't know this yet." He feels bad as if he's sneaking behind her back, but she'll probably laugh if he told her of his dream and then made a big deal about the coordinates that lead anywhere. "I had had the same dream for a week, maybe more now," he continues, taking a long breath. "I'm in a cafe near the Clock Tower, with Marisbilly and Professor Lev and, Lev turns to look at me and tries to tell me something."
no subject
And while what Roman says is a bit alarming, it is also painfully important. Lord El-Melloi II leans in, one eye on the door to ensure that DaVinci doesn't burst in and dress them both down for keeping secrets. Once Roman has revealed all, he takes a sobering breath. "That's...concerning. Do you usually have prophetic dreams?" In this life, he means.
no subject
His hands rest on his lap. "I used to be a clairvoyant," he answers him, "And my soul used to be connected with," he does a vague hand gesture. Revelation, that kind of thing. It's unsettling to him now who is a normal human being. "I didn't often have prophetic dreams, I could see things wide awake but I know those happen." Did he ever dream in life? He blinks, unable to remember. Maybe his wish is being unravelled a little, he doesn't know how or why. "In the last days, um-I also slept walk and wrote down the coordinates with a scrap of paper next to my nightstand." That also happens with prophetic dreams. But it's never happened before.
no subject
Carefully, Lord El-Melloi II listens to the explanation, nodding along to show that he is listening. It's sight, real Sight that the man used to have. It...but it doesn't feel like Grail Interference. It's something else.
"It's unclear what the spirits of magi can accomplish after their deaths. Perhaps this is an exercise of power on their end, and nothing on your own."
no subject
He is certain the Grail didn't do this. He'll know, in a sense, that's why he's a little unsettled.
"Do you think Professor Lev arranged this message before," he pauses, taking a long breath, "His passing?" Then it must be important. He has to see where the coordinates lead him.
no subject
Empty threats. But he was on a roll! A good one! Or at least he thought so, it probably was less entertaining to Roman.
"Maybe...maybe not. There's a force at work here that I don't like though, it worries me."
no subject
Sadly, he's not looking too intimidating.
"Ah, should I stop?" Roman asks, feeling foolish for trying to trace the coordinates, he isn't even convinced this isn't the work of his exhausted imagination.
no subject
Regardless, it isn't as important as what Roman has revealed, so Lord El-Melloi II resolves to focus on that instead.
"No, I don't think that's right either. May I ask where it is they have pointed so far?"
no subject
The shift to a more tense topic makes his expression falter.
"Uh, I don't know," he admits, glancing at the turned off monitors, "I was about to find out when you walked in." They are odd and familiar, but he doesn't know why.
no subject
"If I asked you to continue, could I please stay and watch you find where they lead?"
no subject
We'd have done the same if Leonardo had surprised him instead.
Taking a long breath, he turns on the screens of the panel once more, re-entering the coordinates. He holds his breath and waits until SHEBA fixes its lenses on CHALDEAS, and... "No results?" He tries again, just to be sure, maybe it's all a dumb dream, which relieves him, but there's something that's bothering him.
no subject
Quietly he watches the screens load, and then..........nothing?
"...Is there a missing number in either of the coordinates that would lead to a result like this?"
no subject
"Something outside the world?" he blurts out, stroking his face in concern. The other side, or is it- No, that's impossible. He wishes he could remember that location, but a lot of his perception dulled. Maybe he should try to observe it manually.
no subject
If you were trying to talk to someone in a dream, there was no giving them information this useless. Lord El-Melloi II shook his head, squinting at the screen in hopes that it would reveal all it's secrets.
"Can we get a live view of of that area? Even if it's nothing?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
ff sorry for the delay
you're totally fine!
let's do the training off screen because I have NO IDEA (damn Nasu not showing this)
sounds good nerdy version of eye of the tiger plays in the bg
(no subject)
(no subject)
SORRY FOR THE DELAY, HOLIDAYS MADNESS
You're good also LOOK SOLOMON DIDN'T RUIN NA CHRISTMAS!
CONGRATS ON THE ANIME BTW! /POMS POMS/
thank you i want to thank fgo dollars for giving me Flat fucking up a porsche and soccer mom waver
lmao fgo dollars are the best dollars, btw I'm on a trip for a week at least
they fund soccer mom waver. also ok gotcha
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
sorry lifeeeee got hard
don't ever worry i know you will always return!