Lancer || Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
croibhristeoir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tvk2011-11-15 06:57 pm
croibhristeoir) wrote in tvk2011-11-15 06:57 pm
Entry tags:
⚔ 010; [video; dated to mid-Dark Hour]
[The video shows what appears to be Lancer in his hotel room, face mostly obscured by a book and wearing a suit he's never been seen in before. Behind the chair he sat in, a pair of lances leaned against the wall--a long crimson one and a shorter one in vivid yellow.]
'Hate'.
[Lancer's calm and collected voice had an extra layer to it today, an almost demonic echo that turned gentle tones into mocking amusement.]
'Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live'.
[He lowered the book slightly; his eyes were the same yellow-gold as ever, but today they were ice cold and glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. Instead of his commonly seen casual smile, he wore a condescending and cruel smirk.]
Such an interesting volume to have in my small collection.
Because oh, do I hold within myself such hatred. Such spite and rage, I truly am a worthless knight. But why should I do anything but hate? Being kind and generous has gained me nothing but pain. I don't understand, I don't understand, I don't understand...! Why does it hurt so much? Tell me why everything I do only causes me pain!
'Please, allow me to help you.' 'What can I do for you?' 'How can I assist you?' I never asked for anything in return, I never even asked to be thanked for my efforts. If I'm not helping people, then what is the point of my existence? Have I been placed here only to feel pain in my failures?
Kayneth wished to summon a King of Conquerors--he never even wanted me. And why should he have? I am hardly a hero at all, next to people like Iskander or Ireland's precious hound. I am but a man who stole Fionn mac Cumhaill's betrothed and ran like a coward.
I have neither purpose nor right to live. My hatred is the only thing strong about me. I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the man who cursed and corrupted the Holy Grail itself!
[There was a quiet sound of movement off-camera, directing Lancer to look at the floor with a cruel smirk.]
You're wrong...
[The voice offscreen was strained and shaky, but unmistakably Diarmuid's--without the demonic layer this one had. The first Lancer's smirk only grew wider at that.]
...Do you know what I hate most of all, Prospero?
[He reached off-camera, picking up the original Diarmuid by his shirt collar--slightly bruised and scratched up, wincing in obvious pain. The second one with the cruel smirk on his face calmly took off Diarmuid's glasses and put them on himself, expression not changing in the slightest.]
More than Kayneth and Kiritsugu, more than my own disgusting need to make people happy?
Arturia, please help me--
[He choked that much out in a rushed, almost desperate voice; for the first time, Diarmuid was afraid. Not of death, no, but of the fact that his other self's words seemed to ring true in a dark corner of his heart.]
[He was afraid, and he wanted her at his side.]
More than anything...I hate myself.
[The video cut out suddenly, without another word.]
'Hate'.
[Lancer's calm and collected voice had an extra layer to it today, an almost demonic echo that turned gentle tones into mocking amusement.]
'Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live'.
[He lowered the book slightly; his eyes were the same yellow-gold as ever, but today they were ice cold and glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. Instead of his commonly seen casual smile, he wore a condescending and cruel smirk.]
Such an interesting volume to have in my small collection.
Because oh, do I hold within myself such hatred. Such spite and rage, I truly am a worthless knight. But why should I do anything but hate? Being kind and generous has gained me nothing but pain. I don't understand, I don't understand, I don't understand...! Why does it hurt so much? Tell me why everything I do only causes me pain!
'Please, allow me to help you.' 'What can I do for you?' 'How can I assist you?' I never asked for anything in return, I never even asked to be thanked for my efforts. If I'm not helping people, then what is the point of my existence? Have I been placed here only to feel pain in my failures?
Kayneth wished to summon a King of Conquerors--he never even wanted me. And why should he have? I am hardly a hero at all, next to people like Iskander or Ireland's precious hound. I am but a man who stole Fionn mac Cumhaill's betrothed and ran like a coward.
I have neither purpose nor right to live. My hatred is the only thing strong about me. I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, the man who cursed and corrupted the Holy Grail itself!
[There was a quiet sound of movement off-camera, directing Lancer to look at the floor with a cruel smirk.]
You're wrong...
[The voice offscreen was strained and shaky, but unmistakably Diarmuid's--without the demonic layer this one had. The first Lancer's smirk only grew wider at that.]
...Do you know what I hate most of all, Prospero?
[He reached off-camera, picking up the original Diarmuid by his shirt collar--slightly bruised and scratched up, wincing in obvious pain. The second one with the cruel smirk on his face calmly took off Diarmuid's glasses and put them on himself, expression not changing in the slightest.]
More than Kayneth and Kiritsugu, more than my own disgusting need to make people happy?
Arturia, please help me--
[He choked that much out in a rushed, almost desperate voice; for the first time, Diarmuid was afraid. Not of death, no, but of the fact that his other self's words seemed to ring true in a dark corner of his heart.]
[He was afraid, and he wanted her at his side.]
More than anything...I hate myself.
[The video cut out suddenly, without another word.]
action;
I can not ask you to handle alone what should clearly be my responsibility. I will not hide in the face of such a thing, and I will not leave your side.
action;
action;
[He took her hand with his own, focused entirely on her for that moment.]
He said far too much and wounded my pride too severely for me to sit by and do nothing.
As your equal and not your subject I am declaring this now: I'm not letting you leave here alone.
action;
In before short joke.]action;
...why? Why are you so intent on forcing me to st--
Because you're worthless.
[Guess who's leaning against the door frame, Saber.]
action;
Here?
[ Glancing over her head in the direction of the voice, her leg may shift her body closer, her torso against his
stomachown chest. ]action;
[Diarmuid tightened his hold on Arturia's hands, lightly pushing her behind him.]
Who--what are you? What is it you want?
I am a Shadow, the true self; I am you. You are me. And you are not even worthy to stand in the same room as beloved Arturia Pendragon.
action;
Stop.. [ Why her last name? Why her name? ]
action;
...stop it.
You're not worthy of her loyalty. And you disgrace her honor with your own. Why don't you see it, Arturia...? Why don't you realize how pathetic I am?
action;
[ Saber may actually be pissed off right now.
Saber never gets pissed off. ]
action;
[Oh hey Saber, you recognize those lances appearing in the Shadow's hands? You probably should.]
He's going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you. One of us. Both of us. I won't let that happen, Arturia...I would die to protect you, even if the loyalty of a traitor would only disgrace you.
action;
It's time. With a battle cry, she sprints towards the shadow without a weapon, intent on protecting what was her's. ]
action;
[The Shadow watched her approach with a smug smile, but did nothing save for raising Gae Dearg in a defensive motion.]
[Much as he would not engage his fellow knights in the Fianna during his flight from them, it seemed he wouldn't lash out against Saber here.]
action;
I will not permit you to speak so ill of my knight!
action;
...you're wrong. You're wrong, I didn't want...
action;
action;
[He switched his stance in a matter of less than a second, kicking off against the floor with agility only a Lancer-class Servant could possess. But he didn't attack her--no, how could he raise his blade to her ever again? He threw himself past her, moving like a streak of dark lightning to his target.]
[Lancer's Shadow was behind him in a moment. By the time the original Knight of Fianna realized what had happened, he could only move fast enough to avoid an instantly fatal strike; when the golden lance struck, it stabbed through his left arm rather than his back.]
action;
Stop it!
[ Kicking herself up off of her toes, she'll lunge towards the shadow. ]
action;
[Scowling and holding his arm where he'd been stabbed, Lancer summoned his Persona and drove the Shadow back with a burst of lightning.]
Why...Why do you still defend me, Arturia? Don't you see I just want to prevent you from being betrayed like Fionn was?
action;
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Fionn said he forgave you, remember? He let that resentment build in his heart, and then he killed you.
[Diarmuid's teeth ground together in frustration, grip on his arm tightening painfully. This duplicate, whatever it was, knew things Diarmuid had never dared to speak of. The innermost thoughts he'd always hated himself for so spitefully thinking were all laid out in front of them now.]
So how can I ever believe 'I forgive you'? How do we know it's true? And how are we supposed to know if we can ever be truly forgiven?
SHUT UP--!
[His Persona reappeared in a flash of white, lightning striking again and destroying what was left of the door. When the dust settled, the Shadow was nowhere in sight.]
You're wrong. You're wrong. You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong...
action;
[ Saber cuts herself off as she found herself unworthy of speaking his name. Her words were only meant with the best of intents, but they've done nothing to spare the man of his agony. ]
What time is it? [ She can manage that much. ]
action;
[Such horrible things it had said, and each of them true.]
I don't...I don't know. The Dark Hour's surely almost over, I-
[He abruptly stopped speaking and fell to his knees, partly from exhaustion and partly from shock at the night's events.]
...he's right. He's right, Arturia, I can't...
action;
[ Saber forces herself to persevere as she moves towards him, swallowing hard. There's guilt weighing her down as her hands reach out for his arm, ready to assist him in bandaging it. ]
Perhaps.. you should go to a hospital. [ So that he doesn't have to be around her.
But it was fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. It wasn't true, right? No, Diarmuid stands before her saying that he is right. That the shadow's words were true.
He would do the same to her.
The same. The same. The same. The same. The same. The same. All for a woman? Which woman was that - his words were so vague and she was so caught up in the moment she neglected to notice it. ]
action;
[They'd have to break it or kill its owner. Which of them was that right now? Diarmuid had no idea.]
[He didn't speak after that, almost looking sick as he raised his still-functioning hand to hide his face. The former Servant's shoulders were trembling uncontrollably, and no matter how he looked at this everything hurt. The physical pain was nothing. Not compared to knowing he would betray Arturia as he had done to Fionn. Disappoint her as he'd done to Kayneth.]
[He couldn't take it. And it was at that realization that a sound remarkably like a sob escaped him.]
I-I'm afraid, Arturia. I don't want to end up hurting you. I d...don't want to turn my back on you. I would rather die than betray anyone else. Especially you.
He's right. I hate myself. I still feel such spite and anger, and yet I have only myself to blame.
[Another barely-restrained sob, Diarmuid refusing to look at her.]
If I should ever go against you, if I should betray you no matter the reason...then kill me. I would accept death gladly as the price for hurting you.
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