FIRST SPEAR.

send me a crystal… | not accepting.

biotite: the biggest problem my muse is currently dealing with.

he hasn’t found his master yet! it’s really weighing on him bc his entire purpose in his new life is to serve his master. also, he feels like he’s letting him down.

charoite: who my muse looks up to.

naturally, he looks up to his lord, fionn mac cumhaill... despite everything that fionn has put him through. aside from him, though, he looks up to cu chulainn! there’s no doubt in my mind that the heroes of every cycle following the ulster cycle were told the tales of the great hero cu chulainn, and i’m sure many fennids modeled themselves after him or otherwise looked up to him. diarmuid is definitely among them. he looks up to every iteration of cu in the fate/ franchise, although his thoughts on cu alter are... complicated. i’d also be really interested in threading with cu chulainns from other franchises too, since i know there are a few out there!

calcite: my muse’s social tendencies.

send me a crystal… | not accepting.

moss agate: does my muse have a high or low opinion of himself?

he has a fairly high opinion of himself! he is the first spear of the knights of the fianna, which is a title he could never hold if he hadn’t earned it. he has pride in his skills, his abilities, and his loyalty. if he’s determined to do something, he has no doubt that it’ll be done, no matter how difficult the task may seem. he is a proud knight, after all!

amazonite: what kinds of situations call for my muse to be dishonest?

honesty is one of the pillars of diarmuid’s particular brand of chivalry, so it would take quite a bit to force dishonesty from him. naturally, if his lord or master ordered him to lie, he would do it. loyalty to his lord is more important to him than honesty. if the well-being of innocent and otherwise defenseless people were at stake (particularly children), he’d have no qualms lying. basically, if it would benefit him, his lord, or the safety of innocent people without compromising his dignity as a knight, he isn’t necessarily opposed.

ammolite: how lucky is my muse?

his luck is rank e but if it could be lower, it would be.

send me a crystal… | not accepting.

iolite: my muse’s drinking habits.

there’s no need for servants to eat or drink. throughout fate/zero, there was never a need or an opportunity, and kayneth would certainly have had something to say about it. things are different in chaldea, though. they’re different on spirale, too. he has opportunities and excuses to eat and drink now, but he still doesn’t... with a couple exceptions. naturally, one of these exceptions is alcohol.

diarmuid doesn’t drink often since he still sees himself as a servant more than an actual person, but when he does... he could drink a tavern dry in a single night. most servants could out-drink a human easily, but diarmuid could out-drink most servants. as much as i’d like to say he wouldn’t make a competition out of it, he absolutely would. first one to pass out pays for everything and the last one standing gets a free drink from everyone. it’s a good time for everyone involved and absolutely horrendous for the people around them.

kyanite: an anger headcanon.

send me a crystal... | not accepting.

agate: how my muse calms down.

it depends what he’s upset about and what kinds of emotions he’s feeling. when he’s feeling angry, irritated, or otherwise riled up, the best way he knows to get it out of his system is to spar. failing that, he’ll hunt or train. intense feelings can be channeled into intense physical energy.

if it’s something that produces less energy, like sadness or grief, he’ll try to take his mind off of it another way. again, hunting is an option. otherwise, something that occupies his thoughts without exerting as much physical activity is ideal, such as odd jobs like building or cooking.

Another servant - it isn’t that the possibility was entirely out of her mind, yet she wonders if his servitude and hers are much the same; she sincerely doubts it, yet perhaps it’s hope that keeps her willing to believe that she may not always be alone in such things, that there might be a kindred spirit…

But his words unsettle her a little - they speak of classes - of things that humans are. She is none of those things, no class he lists, just a status of her own - an object.

Still, his kindness is welcome, and she’s not likely to turn it down necessarily, now that it’s at a level she can fathom and rationalize.

“There’s no need to apologize. You may introduce yourself as you will, and I will call you accordingly. After all, Sir Lancer, it isn’t as if it is any worse a title than Doll.”

As close to an introduction as she’s likely to give, she considers the other man for a moment.

“Are you a fighter then, sir..?”

That she is unhappy with her title ( or so it would seem ) may imply that she is unhappy with her servitude, though she has spoken of it so plainly thus far. It feels as though any further curiosity would be a sin, yet Diarmuid cannot help but wonder about her nature. Curiosity about the natural world is one thing; curiosity about another living being is quite another.

“Likewise, I will call you however you’d like. If there’s something else you’d prefer, I’ll use it gladly.” If she insists on being called as she introduced herself, then, he’ll acquiesce.

While her title says little about herself and her nature, his says plenty. “I am, yes. My purpose in this world is to fight as my Master commands me.” In any other arena, he would honor his Master’s wishes as any knight would honor their lord, but battle is the purpose for which each Servant is summoned. Furthermore, his current Master has had no orders for him outside the battlefield; thus, stating otherwise would seem disingenuous.

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, a man originating from the Ulster Cycle, bearing the curse to charm others against his will. He recalls tales when alive sometimes about him, recalling his tragic end. Jekyll just hopes that they don’t run into any demonic boars while on the island to avoid that issue.

“A pleasure to meet with you, Diarmuid, I hope we can get to know one another better!” The Green Lancer’s question causes his brows to raise slightly. It appeared that he wasn’t alone in that regard. With a gesture of his hand, the Doctor steps forward beginning to walk toward their destination. Glancing to Diarmuid, he promptly responds.

“I do, although the connection’s faint, I can sense him; he’s somewhere in this place.” They haven’t crossed paths, he’s a little worried. But with all these other Servants here, undoubtedly someone’s made sure he’s alright. A frown briefly mars his lips, “Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten a chance to seek him out, considering the past….event; what about you….?”

However unfortunate it may be that a Servant as kind and straightforward as Henry Jekyll has been separated from his Master, some significant amount of relief accompanies the discovery. It may indeed be due to a flaw in the summoning process, but at least the flaw is not isolated to his summoning alone. Should this be in his favor, it may turn out that even some potential enemies have been separated as well —— though he supposes now may not be the time to think over war and the strategies necessary for it.

He stands, and the Doll finds herself relaxing quite a bit even as she still looks down at him - he’s still very kind, and even that is a bit disconcerting, but at least it doesn’t sit wrong on her skin, and she finds herself able to breathe a little easier, even if she technically doesn’t much need to breathe at all.

“No - it’s, ah… I had ought to thank you, for going so far, but it’s unfitting..!” Her words are calmer, now, and she seems less like she might burst into tears (though she wouldn’t have, her voice certainly told a different tale altogether). “The words themselves are more than enough, for one such as I. I am merely a servant - a doll - after all, and so –”

One hand gestures, vaguely, meant to placate him.

“But I am glad that I could assist you - more now, since you are so kind.”

The nature of her servitude is unclear with only those simple words to go on. It is clear that she is not the same kind of Servant as he is, yet he finds himself drawn to her nonetheless. Perhaps it is simply his chivalric heart which yearns to comfort a maiden so close to tears, or perhaps it is something more, like charity or plain curiosity.

“That you are a servant makes no difference to me. I am a servant as well, so to speak.” Never mind the “Heroic Spirit” part, as it isn’t entirely relevant right now. “The way I regard you would hardly be different if you were royalty, nobility, or peasantry of the lowest kind. You have helped me in earnest, and so, you have earned my gratitude.”

Though he is tempted, he does not bow to her as he introduces himself.

“Ah, it’s fine; do not worry about it! But of course, I’d love for that!” Now thinking about it, he’s not seen hide nor hair of his Master, he’s wondering how he’s doing considering all of the Servants he’s seen around the premises.

 “I’m pleased to meet your acquaintance, though, sir. Servant Class: Assassin, but my true name is Henry Jekyll, and you are?” He feels Hyde roll his eyes at his introduction, along with an associated grumble of ‘ya don’t need anymore eyes, dumbass–– ya got me!’ which the Good Doctor straight up ignores. “I’ve been looking at some maps of the city and I believe one might be down this road if I’m not mistaken.” He gestures toward the particular direction for them head down towards. It was probably nestled in between some of the other shops littered around the areas. 

Henry Jekyll: The doctor from London, whom Diarmuid had only heard tales of as it was prior to his summoning. Between the familiarity of his name and the friendliness he exhibits now, it seems he may very well be an ally. In that case, it should be no trouble for him to reveal his true name as well.

“I am Diarmud Ua Duibhne, first of the Knights of the Fianna. This time, I have been summoned as a Lancer.” Whether this Assassin wishes to address him by name or simple by his class title for now will be up to him. As long as there are no enemies present, the use of their True Names is not as troublesome, particularly when there is no active war taking place.

This is not a reaction he’s ever been met with. Some embarrassment is not surprising, but this... The woman before him is so flustered that Diarmuid himself is a bit shaken by it. He stands tall as soon as her discomfort is made apparent, but he’s not entirely sure what to say. This is, after all, quite unexpected.

It hadn’t been long since Yui stepped foot in what had seemed to be her new home. When she had first arrived, it took a moment for her to take things in. To understand what was happening, even though she didn’t quite understand why. Instead of going in upon arrival, Yui found herself running off trying to gain some footing, but after some thought felt it best just to return to the townhouse.

It may have only been about twenty minutes since she stepped in, finding a bed to claim as her own, and settling in. It was quite a nice place, not as large as he previous living arrangement, but large enough to comfortably house as many as four. Yui found herself exploring the upper levels, when the sound of the door opening jolted her, causing to rush down the stairs to see who may have entered. 

Immediately her eyes locked with young male, instantly causing a light blush to coat her cheeks. (Why am I blushing?) “Ah…It’s alright. I didn’t think I’d have this whole place to myself anyway. It’s a bit…too big.” The blonde smiled, pink still tingeing her cheeks. “Oh! I should introduce myself. I’m Yui. Komori Yui.”

Communal living spaces shared between men, women, and all manner of people with no relation to each other is not a foreign idea to him. The fianna did just that, particularly in the summers and autumns, when the land was lush and nature welcomed them into its embrace. Thus it is not the unfamiliarity or supposed “impurity” of it, as some, more modern spirits might suggest, that unnerves him. It is the simple fact that he is Diarmuid of the Love Spot and the trouble his namesake tends to bring him.

Still, he will be kind to her. It is his curse to bear, and both the fault and the burden should be placed upon him alone. “Komori Yui.” He says her name with a smile, as he cannot deny the beauty in its simplicity. “I regret that I cannot introduce myself in turn. Instead, you may call me Lancer.” Lest she become a target for knowing what she has no need to know, he will not reveal his name to her. It would only burden them both.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Yui.”

@fennid​

After a long day of getting information of her surroundings, the Archer decided to head back and take a break for the remainder of it. At first she thought of finding a temple and make a prayer as she was used to, however, she stops in her tracks as she finds on the way a familiar presence.

A Servant of all things.

“Lancer.” She says with a smile, it was good to see a familiar face, even if they didn’t interact as much. “I do not know if you remember me, but it is nice to see a comrade-in-arms in a place like this, don’t you think?”

While the presence of another Servant  would ordinarily be enough for Diarmuid to raise his spears in anticipation, he has nothing with which to fight at present. Furthermore, this woman claims that they are not enemies, but unexpected allies. Although she does not seem familiar, he will not write off the possibility that they are indeed comrades.

— @fennid

“Hunh. Weird to see you walkin’ around without that king of yours. Did you finally do somethin’ about all the stabs he’s been taking at you this whole time?”