tvk | ⚔ 016; [video]

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lancer (diarmuid ua duibhne)

⚔ 016; [video]

I-if anyone has a moment, I'm having a small problem. [This was the understatement of the millennium.]

I'd like to ask how...h-how...er...forgive me, I am having some trouble articulating things today. [Diarmuid adjusted the glasses he wore, seeming hesitant to look directly at the camera at first.]

Imagine one that...has gone through life without anger or hatred. This individual had never felt spite, resentment, or even a shred of those kind of things. He did all he could to put others and their happiness before himself and his own, finding contentment and joy in doing so. But after a certain point, that person...he found someone that did something so deplorable that it left that person filled with rage and spite.

He found someone that he hated. And no matter how he tried, that person could not simply forgive what was done to earn that hatred.

I beg of you, Prospero. Someone please tell me how that person can go back to the way he was. Before he could feel anger and spite, back when he could still grant forgiveness.

[Diarmuid looked away for a moment; he was unsure, even worried.]

Fionn, Grainne-- [Gods, what would they think of him when they knew?] ...there is something I have not yet told you. Forgive me for not doing so until now.

Arturia... [Another pause. She had been there when he had died, she knew the horrible rage he had unleashed that day. Cursing her, Kayneth, Kiritsugu, even the Grail itself. Again he worried that she must secretly detest such a hateful spirit.] When you have the time...I would like to speak with you. Please.

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Trust does not come easily to everyone, Diarmuid -- particularly not those who've tasted betrayal. My own capability for such is admittedly limited, for one.

I have experienced betrayal twice, Edgeworth. Kayneth was not the first lord to lead me to my death, though circumstances were very different the second time around.

Did either circumstance involve being raised as a pig to be publicly slaughtered for the sake of a greater meal of vengeance than your own father's murder provided? [Despite the poetics, the question is blurted out.] Are you truly so much stronger than that?!

[Hello, thinly disguised self-directed bile.]

...no. No, it was nothing like that. [He hesitated after that, not sure if he should continue or not. When Diarmuid did speak again, his voice was quiet and calm--perhaps even nervous.]

I was...ordered to die when it served my Master's purpose. So that's precisely what I did.

You were sent on a guaranteed suicide mission?!

[Since surely he didn't mean that literally, right?...]

No, it's...far more complex and yet more simple than that.

Humans can not control Servants. They can cooperate, they can agree, even forge friendships and alliances...but they can not truly control heroes of myth and legend. Look at one such as Gilgamesh; does he seem like he would take orders from anyone?

So the makings of a Servant and Master contract is sealed with Command Seals. A symbol in three parts, most commonly inscribed on the back of a Master's hand. It represents three absolute orders; for example, Gilgamesh's Master used it to command 'withdraw from battle and return to base' when he was fighting another Servant.

Three orders. As long as they are within a Servant's physical limits and specific enough, they will absolutely be followed independent of the Servant's will.

[Diarmuid took off his glasses, looking physically and emotionally exhausted.]

In cases such as Gilgamesh's, they are necessary. But...when circumstances grew dire, when Kayneth was cornered in a position where he either needed to abandon the Holy Grail War or die...

He used a Command Spell in the worst possible way. And the next thing I knew-...

[Diarmuid raised a hand to his shirt collar and pulled it aside just enough to show a sizable scar over his heart.]

-...my own lance was through my chest. I died screaming, hating him, cursing the Grail--

[His voice cracked, and the former Servant lowered his hand before speaking again.]

All I wanted...was to win the Holy Grail in his name. He never trusted me. I was just a puppet to him.

Edited 2012-01-08 09:31 (UTC)

[Edgeworth had thought that Diarmuid had been the victim of a mere murder after having been subjected to a string of abuse at the hands of a self-absorbed man. This... at first, he isn't even sure what to call this, other than a crime of the highest degree. The prosecutor grasps for more accurate words than "murder" and "betrayal" in vain.]

[Only after a moment do the parallels strike him.]

...Diarmuid... often, understanding a situation can help. It cannot restore your innocence, but it can provide the perspective necessary to better direct and control one's darker emotions.

I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at here, Edgeworth.

My apologies -- I'm hardly the sort suited to be a therapist. All that I can think to do is to compare this to my own life. In my experience, it was the truth about both its events and my own values and purpose that allowed me to begin to become a better man.

There's nothing to apologize for. If you have any advice on how to proceed, I'll take it.

I just...don't know what to do. I don't have any idea where to go from here.

Were we in a position to do so, I would advise unraveling the whole truth of the situation. However, the most vital witness seems to possess no memory of the events in question. Given the nature of the kidnappings, it is even possible that he has yet to commit this heinous crime.

You're right--it hasn't happened for him yet. He has no idea...of anything. He doesn't know how the war ended, and I can't imagine he comprehends why I suddenly don't answer to him or the name 'Lancer'.

Time is probably the best solution to his failure to grasp the situation here. I have my doubts that one such as he could simply be told the truth to any useful effect.

He wouldn't listen even if you did.

As I suspected.

Would it be accurate to say that hatred itself is something that you fail to fully comprehend?

I'm no fool, and I understand it to an extent.

But what I don't comprehend is how to stop it from utterly overtaking me.

Edited 2012-01-08 23:06 (UTC)

I cannot truthfully claim that it did no such thing to me, merely that it is truth which pulled me from the abyss.

...not to pry, but if that's a story you're willing to recount then I will listen. I could surely use the help at this point.

...Diarmuid. Please understand that this is not a story for the world's ears, and that it is one I prefer to leave in the past to the extent that I am able. That being said... it is for good reason that I switched this to a private call, to say nothing of it being only fair that I should speak of this to you now.

Do I really look like the kind who would freely give away others' secrets? Just because I have none of my own does not mean I am incapable of keeping them.

If you don't wish to tell it, then you're under no obligation to. But if you do, then I am very capable of keeping such things to myself.

[Edgeworth shakes his head.] Between the graciousness you have shown me since my arrival, what you have already volunteered today, and the insight that it may provide on the subject in question, I have every reason to make the effort.

[The prosecutor takes a breath and puts some effort into putting his emotions back in check. (This is testimony. I am merely providing the expert testimony necessary to allow Diarmuid to understand his own case.)]

...It began when I was nine. Father... Gregory Edgeworth... brought me to the courthouse to observe his work as a defense attorney, as he had promised me days before. My recollection of the trial itself is vague, overshadowed as it is by the events later that day, but only a few details are vital to the sweep of my life. The prosecutor was Manfred von Karma, a man heralded and feared as undefeated -- Father stood no chance against him. However, while Father lost the case, he managed to prove that the autopsy report presented was a forgery, causing von Karma to suffer the first penalty ever to appear on his record.

[Diarmuid couldn't really say he understood how a modern judicial system worked. But he at least comprehended what Edgeworth was telling him on some level--that much wasn't a difficult concept, and so he listened attentively despite the foreign terms being tossed around.]

I understand things so far. [To an extent.] Please, continue.

After the trial, Father and I went to... th-the elevator on our way out of the courthouse. The two of us... and a bailiff -- a guard, essentially -- by the name of Yanni Yogi. [Strain is already present in Edgeworth's voice, but it increases sharply as he continues.] I-it was during the r-ride downward... th-the earthquake... I...

[The picture shakes -- clearly not purposefully, given that Edgeworth himself seems to be losing his composure with normally-uncharacteristic speed.]

[He wasn't sure what to say at first, or if anything he could think of would just worsen the situation. Finally he spoke, hesitant and uncertain.]

...perhaps this is a conversation better held in person?

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