[the words drip with venom, the name unspoken between them.]
What makes you think you know me well enough to form such a contract? If we do, I shall not let you change your mind so easily. If I need to plunge into the darkness in this city, I will, and you shall have to keep up, and learn to see without light. Hell has no mercy on those who dawdle behind.
Where do you think the material for my fairy tales come from? The Fir Tree, the Little Match Girl? I am not a man who sifts through heaven to find his inspiration. I have lived through and seen hell. I've waded through the filthiest pits of human depravity.
[He meets his eyes.]
My powers lie with my writing, and even those have been stripped from me. As a Witch, my sole saving grace is to be a living battery. You've treated me well at Chaldea. I did not forget that. My mana should go to someone who'll make good use of it.
[That laugh earns a sharp smile from Andersen. He chuckles.]
Did you expect anything different from me? I am as persistent and constant as a cockroach - you of all people should know that!
[This is more than an ideal arrangement for him. He didn't fancy combing the city for a monster and he knows Avenger, to an extent. He knocks back the rest of his drink before declaring:]
Watch your tongue, the genre of our agreement falls strictly within the realm of fantasy. The way you're prattling on makes it sound like a romantic comedy...
[Even as he complains, he's getting up. Where Dantes goes, he'll follow.]
[his eyebrow raises before he laughs again. what a ridiculous man he was going to Bond to.
but, given their personalities, they have something or other to bicker about the entire way to the Coven's main building, all the way inside until they find where they can get a Witch to set up a circle for their ceremony. they look a little askance at the pair, who have to pause their discussion long enough to confirm this, but if they're sure...]
[They must be quite a sight to see: an intimidating figure cloaked in black walking side-by-side with what looks to be a blue dwarf, trading barbs rapidly. The rhythm of the conversation comes naturally. Andersen has always been partial the argumentative, long-winded types - why else would he get along so well with someone as unpopular as Shakespeare? - and Dantes fits that criteria.
When the Witch checks in with them, Andersen puts his hands on his hips.]
Of course I'm certain! I have a lot of work to do, I'm not going to waste time personally interviewing every Monster I come across. Avenger - [he holds out his hand] - take it.
[stepping into the circle, Dantes extends his hand to grasp Andersen's, inhaling and straightening up to show that he was as serious about this as one could be. a Bond. the Witch presiding nods, and indicates that they should make their vows. as the circle illuminates beneath their feet, he feels a slight warmth in his chest, where he thinks his spiritual core would be in his usual body.]
I tether myself to you as my partner to fight alongside, to stand against the mysteries of this world, to aid and abet each other in due course, through the flames of the abyss, the depths of the sea, and the blackest of nights. This I swear as Edmond Dantes.
[names give things power, and he places his in this to make it as true as he can. even with his reluctance earlier, this would run deeper than disguising it from the world.]
[Dantes's hand easily engulfs Andersen's, cold white swallowing fragile skin and bones. Yet Andersen notices that, in spite of his tremendous strength, Dantes is careful. There was no need to give a pretty vow when they were forging this Bond for the sake of convenience. But a speech like that indicates how seriously the other Servant is taking this.
What a troublesome man, saying one thing while doing the exact opposite.
Andersen will show his dedication to this decision as well, then.]
And I, Hans Christian Andersen, tether myself to you as your partner. Your tale is now mine, and I vow to see it through to the end. Though our collaboration may lead us into the heart of Hell itself, I swear on my honor as an author that no matter what terrors or pain awaits me, you will find me at your side.
[the light grows brighter, the warmth stronger, until the Witch claps their hands and it feels as though air rushes back into the room. now, they say, they are Bonded. their signatures tied together, all settled, as easy as anything else. they smile, and say that they did well, choosing this. and then the pair are set free back to go into the night, to do as they would.
Dantes pauses before they walk too far, frowning and touching where he felt the warmth in his chest earlier.]
[The night air is cool but it's slow to erase the bud of warmth still lingering in Andersen's chest. It's far from an unpleasant feeling - if anything, it feels like he first time he contracted with Chaldea. Something wound tight in him is at last relaxing, likely the magic that'd been pent up since his arrival.
Andersen glances over at Dantes. He seems fine.]
This certainly is a funny story. A Servant contracting with a Servant. [It isn't exactly the same, but the parallel is there.] Did you expect it to hurt?
I expected it to be more...involved. More invasive, for how important they proclaimed it to be. Now neither of us need worry about Bonding.
[and yet, something feels like it's settling. a hollowness in him evening out, most likely some kind of attuning to this world.
(there's something prickling in the direction of Andersen's senses, something tense and heavy, like a heartbeat. controlled, collected, but the sort that might twinge under the skin from the effort of it. a thin thread that leads back to where Dantes has adjusted his cloak, and looks ahead in the direction they came from.)]
[Something isn't quite right. The realization slows Andersen's pace enough for him to fall a little behind, puzzlement creasing his features. These emotions aren't his. In fact, there's a noticeable flow to them and he finds his gaze drawn towards the source.
(there's a light tug in the back of dantes's mind - the feeling that he's forgotten something important - it persists insistently, the way a hangnail would. his skin will itch - no, it feels chafed. scraped.)]
... I think you spoke too soon.
[(and when the words leave andersen's lips, dantes will feel it: a sharp pain in his throat, as if something rough was slid across his vocal chords.)]
[that's....not natural. he knows that, because he wasn't like this before. it could be magical interference, something greater, a phantom thought crossing over him. this city, trying to invade. he'll fight it off as best he can.]
Why? What's wrong?
[his words are calm, but that tension coils in tighter to keep it together.]
[Another slice of pain, rising with Andersen's inflection. A trickle of other emotions drips in: concern that melts into an epiphany, deflates into exasperation.
He has Dantes's attention, so he'll go out on a limb.]
Of course I'm on edge. We're in foreign territory that could turn hostile without warning. Of course I feel that.
[but that bleed is strange. concern, exasperation? those aren't....his. that pain doesn't feel like his either, when it registers with the voice.
and he was the one who said they couldn't back out. if they're going to negotiate this, it'll be back at the theater, though. this confusion can't be shown in the public square.]
...I have a strong hypothesis, but I was going to keep it to myself until we had returned to our lodgings.
[that'll give him some time to calm down and breathe. and perhaps figure out a way to mentally block things. he has determination in spades, surely that counts for something.]
Indeed, it is a demented endeavor. But all the same - I am not the sort of man to be cowed by discomfort. I gave you my word, Caster, and now we shall have to suffer the consequences.
[there's still the remainder of Andersen's alcohol to find, and he wonders what else could have been left in this place, if something stronger was by chance forgotten in the bustle of acting life.]
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[the words drip with venom, the name unspoken between them.]
What makes you think you know me well enough to form such a contract? If we do, I shall not let you change your mind so easily. If I need to plunge into the darkness in this city, I will, and you shall have to keep up, and learn to see without light. Hell has no mercy on those who dawdle behind.
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[He meets his eyes.]
My powers lie with my writing, and even those have been stripped from me. As a Witch, my sole saving grace is to be a living battery. You've treated me well at Chaldea. I did not forget that. My mana should go to someone who'll make good use of it.
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It seems your stubbornness is undiminished, Caster! Some things shall remain constant in this world as well. It delights me to know of it.
[setting down the alcohol, his expression is more weighing and considering, before he comes to a firm decision.]
Very well. As soon as you would, we'll to the Coven and take the ceremony to seal our fate.
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Did you expect anything different from me? I am as persistent and constant as a cockroach - you of all people should know that!
[This is more than an ideal arrangement for him. He didn't fancy combing the city for a monster and he knows Avenger, to an extent. He knocks back the rest of his drink before declaring:]
Why not go now? There's no point in dallying.
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[he'll save the rest of his drink for later, and sets it aside on one of the old tables.]
Come then! The night is young enough that we might say our vows before the strike of midnight!
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[Even as he complains, he's getting up. Where Dantes goes, he'll follow.]
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but, given their personalities, they have something or other to bicker about the entire way to the Coven's main building, all the way inside until they find where they can get a Witch to set up a circle for their ceremony. they look a little askance at the pair, who have to pause their discussion long enough to confirm this, but if they're sure...]
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When the Witch checks in with them, Andersen puts his hands on his hips.]
Of course I'm certain! I have a lot of work to do, I'm not going to waste time personally interviewing every Monster I come across. Avenger - [he holds out his hand] - take it.
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I tether myself to you as my partner to fight alongside, to stand against the mysteries of this world, to aid and abet each other in due course, through the flames of the abyss, the depths of the sea, and the blackest of nights. This I swear as Edmond Dantes.
[names give things power, and he places his in this to make it as true as he can. even with his reluctance earlier, this would run deeper than disguising it from the world.]
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What a troublesome man, saying one thing while doing the exact opposite.
Andersen will show his dedication to this decision as well, then.]
And I, Hans Christian Andersen, tether myself to you as your partner. Your tale is now mine, and I vow to see it through to the end. Though our collaboration may lead us into the heart of Hell itself, I swear on my honor as an author that no matter what terrors or pain awaits me, you will find me at your side.
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Dantes pauses before they walk too far, frowning and touching where he felt the warmth in his chest earlier.]
That was surprisingly painless.
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Andersen glances over at Dantes. He seems fine.]
This certainly is a funny story. A Servant contracting with a Servant. [It isn't exactly the same, but the parallel is there.] Did you expect it to hurt?
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[and yet, something feels like it's settling. a hollowness in him evening out, most likely some kind of attuning to this world.
(there's something prickling in the direction of Andersen's senses, something tense and heavy, like a heartbeat. controlled, collected, but the sort that might twinge under the skin from the effort of it. a thin thread that leads back to where Dantes has adjusted his cloak, and looks ahead in the direction they came from.)]
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(there's a light tug in the back of dantes's mind - the feeling that he's forgotten something important - it persists insistently, the way a hangnail would. his skin will itch - no, it feels chafed. scraped.)]
... I think you spoke too soon.
[(and when the words leave andersen's lips, dantes will feel it: a sharp pain in his throat, as if something rough was slid across his vocal chords.)]
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Why? What's wrong?
[his words are calm, but that tension coils in tighter to keep it together.]
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[Another slice of pain, rising with Andersen's inflection. A trickle of other emotions drips in: concern that melts into an epiphany, deflates into exasperation.
He has Dantes's attention, so he'll go out on a limb.]
You're on edge, Avenger.
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[but that bleed is strange. concern, exasperation? those aren't....his. that pain doesn't feel like his either, when it registers with the voice.
and he was the one who said they couldn't back out. if they're going to negotiate this, it'll be back at the theater, though. this confusion can't be shown in the public square.]
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[Oh, whoops, there's a huge flare of annoyance right there.]
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[why is he so annoyed? more annoyed than normal?]
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Why do you think?
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[that'll give him some time to calm down and breathe. and perhaps figure out a way to mentally block things. he has determination in spades, surely that counts for something.]
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[He motions at both of them.]
--is between us!
[Regardless of his complaint, he actually will shut up if Dantes insists.]
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[he'll walk faster and leave you behind if you don't shut up.]
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Either way, he'll keep his yap shut until they reach the theater. It's only when they arrive that he turns to Dantes with a prodding look.]
What a joke, yoking the two hearts of some of the most antisocial Servants together. This is a hideous parody of a trust exercise.
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[there's still the remainder of Andersen's alcohol to find, and he wonders what else could have been left in this place, if something stronger was by chance forgotten in the bustle of acting life.]
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