sancrimony | memory registry

Lucifel is young in this memory - perhaps no more than five or six, ponytail much shorter but still present though his hair is black now, skin pale. His clothes are clear hand-me-downs and he doesn't wear shoes - he doesn't need to, he's running around in the dirt with a few other children who look similar in age and style, with ragged clothing and without footwear to speak of; they're also all very thin beyond the baby fat, largely skin and bones. They play a number of children's games - they play chase, kick rocks, look at the sky and name shapes, hop around near landmarks and run circles around trees. Notably, there aren't any modern buildings to speak of - it's all countryside, with old traditional wood-and-straw houses lining the background, and the landmarks amount essentially to Particularly Big Rocks or small Shinto shrines; the shrines themselves look fairly new, as if only recently erected.

It's a particularly exhaustive game of chase that leads them to the forest just near the river; the running water can be heard, but only barely - in part due to the natural quietness and distance, but this time there's more than just that obscuring the noise.

A man's cry of pain brings the play to a halt, and the children look to the direction of the noise like hunted animals, startled and abruptly ready to run. There's the sound of indiscernible shouting and laughter, different from the sound of pain, and then there's a scream. Several of the children run - the ones who stay creep closer to the riverbank, hiding behind the trees in an attempt to be stealthy; Lucifel is one of them, looking morbidly curious and full of dread.

The view at the riverside is a cruel one: several older men with swords and ornamental armor surround another man who wears what looks like a straw coat, though his arms have been bound underneath it - moreover, the coat is on fire, and it's evident who's done it given one of the laughing men holds a torch. While the river could be of easy relief, the armored men stand to surround the burning man, blocking off his access to water - more than that, there's rope bound to his ankles that keeps him from running straight, anyway. A little ways away, on the opposite direction from the river, there are a couple of filled buckets.

"If thou wouldst only denounce thy faith, then mercy might be granted to thee!" one of the standing men jeer as the man dances, panicked and trying to roll around on the ground to put the fire out. The burning man starts to cry out, will crumbling -

"I! D-denounce! P-please, mercy!" He stammers out his apostasy while hopping with the flames, howling; with every yell, the children flinch and look a little more ready to run, though Lucifel is planted there on the spot, tiny fists balled up to the point of white knuckles.

The men jeer a bit more - they can't hear him, what did he say? But eventually they're satisfied, picking up the buckets to dump the contents pleasantly onto the man -

It's not water. It's urine and excrement, filth - and the man screams again, ammonia burning his wounds.

Someone else - with a larger hand, not any of the children - comes from behind Lucifel to grab him by his clothes, yanking him back. While startled at first, Lucifel doesn't yell - he can't, not when the man covers his mouth, too - and after a few moments he finds he doesn't need to yell, seemingly recognizing the adult, who makes a gesture of silence and pulls him away, leaving the no-longer-burning man to the whims of the soldiers.

-

* Some notes about language: Elizabethan English is about the time period that Lucifel was alive (early 1600s). The soldiers here speak in Standard Edo dialect.

Edited 2022-04-10 01:11 (UTC)

The scene opens with a young boy with a high black ponytail that doesn't reach beyond his shoulders sitting at the head of a large wooden room; for those informed of Japanese architecture, it's a training dojo, however it looks like the room isn't being used for its intended purpose at this time. Instead, the number of people sit in a group and listen with rapt attention as a man - a foreigner, distinctly not Japanese - speaks aloud, reciting from a thick book: "Sic enim Deus dilexit mundum, ut Filium suum unigenitum daret: ut omnis qui credit in eum, non pereat, sed habeat vitam æternam."

The young boy - Lucifel, albeit younger and lighter-skinned and with darker hair - sits separated from the group of people, seated beside the foreigner to face their audience. He opens his mouth, as if to speak - but he's interrupted when someone bursts into the room, announcing that they'd come to see the Boy of Miracles in order to save their sickly mother; her condition had worsened in the trip here, and it was necessary that she be seen to immediately, lest she pass away.

Lucifel stands up, concerned but not surprised, and starts to head for the exit in order to tend to the woman; an older man, one with a sword at his side, comes into the room from a different door to ask what the situation was. Lucifel doesn't stay for the explanation though, slipping away even as the older man calls after him - the name isn't heard, however.

Though he's run off without the mother's son guiding him, he seems to navigate the streets well by himself; it's almost like he knows exactly where the woman is, which inn it is that she's resting in and what room she's in. Still, even though he goes as fast as he can, it appears to be too late: the woman is declared dead by the older man, who had been following Lucifel to the room like a chaperone, and the son begins to grieve loudly.

This does not stop Lucifel from reaching out to the body, touching her head first and then uttering a prayer; as he does, his hands begin to glow white, enveloping her entire body.

When the light fades, the woman's chest begins to rise and fall, color returning to her face - though her cheeks are still sallow, she seems to be remarkably better somehow, and when she opens her eyes to look to Lucifel the woman cries with joy, declaring the pain was gone as if it were all a dream. The son's weeping turns from mournful to joyous, declaring that miracles - and God - were both real, for his mother returned to life. There is nothing but praise for Lucifel, "The Boy of Miracles".

The scene is joyous, but the older man seems to disapprove. On the way back out of the inn, he takes the trip to scold the boy.

"Young master, ye can't just flaunt yer ability like a bird flaunts 'is feathers," he says - "Yer power was granted by th'will'a God. If th'wrong people were t'find out, they'd surely try t'bring about yer demise. Prithe', show not yer blessin's - lest our merry small band might find yer head on the pikes in the morn."

He pauses, his tone becoming unmistakably kinder, softer, "Ye got too much t'do t'become a martyr now, ████████."

Lucifel purses his lips, looking appropriately chastised, but he pipes up, "But - if this ability'a mine might bring peace to those around me, shan't I pursue that path? This gift, given t'me by God - 's meant t'be used, meant t'be shared. T'close mine eyes t'someone in need . . . I shan't close 'em, nay - I can't close 'em, Teacher!" This earns him a gruff pat on the head, mussing up his hair.

"Yer'eart is in th'right place. But, ye can't save everyone; if ye fall now, ye fail more people than ye'll save. Carry yerself wisely, young master."

The boy's brow creases as he takes that in, and he nods, sullen.

". . . 's as ye say, Teacher."

There's a look of satisfaction on the older man and he ruffles Lucifel's hair again, affection clear in the action. "Now my liege, yer father awaits. Let's away anon."

"Mm."

-

* Some notes about language: Elizabethan English is about the time period that Lucifel was alive (early 1600s). That being said, the island of Amakusa is considered pretty far out in the countryside, and it's a poor area to boot. Hopefully that's being properly reflected in speech patterns here in these memories, but I'm open to constructive criticism if you feel there's something I can work on!

* Despite the above note about speech patterns, it should be noted that the older man is being respectful by using you/yours, same as how Elizabethan English would work. Lucifel is being respectful, too. Both respect!

Edited 2018-08-30 07:26 (UTC)

This memory is wildly different: for one, it's clearly set in what appears to be the modern era, or at least really close to it. There are Western buildings in this city, though most of it is still wood and straw houses; still, there's enough of an architectural difference, with paved roads and cars that it's plain that this is a different place entirely. Even the language is different; the indistinct chatter is Tokyo dialect, although a little bit grandma-ish, dated but not that old.

The setting itself begins in front of a church, fresher and without the vines wrapping around iron bars or the weeds sprouting in the front. A man speaks to another, younger man, conversation indistinct until a third person joins them, coming from the direction of the church: it's demonstrably Lucifel from face structure, though his skin is light his hair is white by this point, albeit cut short, looking a little rough. Notably, he looks to be the same age that he is now - maybe sixteen, maybe seventeen, certainly not much older than that if at all older.

"There he is," the oldest man says with a smile, "This is my son, ██████. ██████, this is the man I spoke to you about. He'll help you with whatever you need to adjust to your new life; ask him for anything, just as you would ask me for anything. "

The younger man greets Lucifel, introducing himself, and Lucifel does the same, giving a polite bow.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, all calm smiles, "To be honest, I'm a little nervous about all of this . . . I'll be entrusting everything to you."

The younger man laughs, flapping his hand, "You'll do just fine. I've heard great things about you from Kotomine-san - but what a surprise when I did start hearing about you! I didn't think Kotomine-san had a son!"

There's a laugh again, and he continues on, "You're from Kyushu, right? He hid you away, it seems!"

"So it seems," Lucifel's smile doesn't falter, pleasant even as he speaks his next words: "I grew up with my mother. Unfortunately, she passed away recently, so I have had to burden my father with my presence."

"Nonsense - ██████, it is a blessing to have you here in Fuyuki." The man called Kotomine says, reaching out to give Lucifel a heavy pat on the shoulder, "What happened was a tragedy, but . . . let us overcome that, and bring about a new future of hope and joy."

"Of course," Lucifel says, and the young man shakes his head.

"I'm sorry to hear . . . May her soul rest in peace; I pray that she reaches Heaven. It must be tough . . . you had to transfer schools too, didn't you? Not that it matters now."

" . . . To be honest, I didn't really think much about that . . . actually, since then, I haven't focused on school much at all . . . " There's an embarrassed tone there, but it's outweighed with a heaviness to his tone, a slowness - well, the topic is sombering, after all, and Lucifel looks distant, as if reminiscing something. "I had already been thinking about pursuing this path, but with what happened, I find myself seeking comfort in the Lord more and more. Perhaps it was meant to be, this way - perhaps this is the gift in tragedy that God has given me."

The younger man nods, moved by Lucifel's words, and Lucifel's expression of distance changes as the conversation turns, from serious to something a little more lighthearted and pleasant, voices and words growing more indistinct as the conversation goes on, and they start to head down the path away from the church.

-

* For those that might recognize it, general lingo/vernacular/etc can place them somewhere in the 1930s~1940s, Standard dialect.

Edited 2018-08-25 00:20 (UTC)

"1930: Before the start of the Third Holy Grail War. Einzbern castle."

A voice reads the words over the muted sound of screaming. In the broadcast, there is a woman with long white hair, standing at the end of a dark red summoning circle, most certainly made of blood - but she is not the one screaming. At the center is a gold chalice filled with what looks to be a clear liquid - water, perhaps. Over that gold chalice is a pillar of bright white light that shoots upwards, but there's a clear indication of something wrong: streaks of gold lightning run through the light as if static, and there seems to be something materializing wherever the lightning runs. A hand, at first, though it pulses transparently as if fading in and out of existence - and then the rest of the body, though it glitches out as it leaves the pillar of light, as if some sort of error. A head of black hair starts to poke out of the light, but it glitches into white as the electricity runs through. It's clear that this - whatever it is, this person - is the one screaming.

The light itself seems to be unwilling to let the person - Lucifel, it sounds like, from the screaming - go from its grasp, making it an enduring process. Finally, when enough of his body has materialized, it seems that gravity takes its toll, pulling him down to hit the ground, shoulder first. The screaming ends, body collapsed on the ground in full Japanese-Western fusion regalia, looking completely out of place. He has lighter skin than Lucifel does now, his hair tied up in a ponytail - but it's the same sort of stripped white.

The woman is addressed by someone off screen, sounding like an older man: "So this is the extent of what we can do without a catalyst? I hardly recognize this one."

Another voice, a younger man: "It can't be helped. This was already stretching our resources as it is - we'll have to take what we can get."

The first voice, again: "The only question is, did we get what we paid for? Homunculus, show us your results."

The woman - doll-like in her appearance and movements, red eyes looking as if without any life in them - speaks, voice soft and emotionless. "Announce yourself, my Servant."

Lucifel, by this point, has collected himself enough to pick himself up off the floor, barely put together enough to take a knee. His voice is shaky at first, but it smooths out:

". . . . In accordance to the summons, I present myself. I am a Servant of the Einzberns. My fate lies with the Einzberns; my sword shall be as your sword. I am Ruler, my True Name ███████ ██████."

The woman doesn't blink, doesn't move in response; in the first place, it doesn't seem like she's meant to be anything at all but the physical labor for the task. From off-screen, the voices speak again, the younger first:

"███████ ██████ . . . ?"

"The ██████ leader of ███ ████████ █████████. Tch. The best of our efforts gets us nothing but a local folk saint - worthless."

"Now, now. At least he's still Ruler class - that's the important part. With his Command Spells, it doesn't matter what strength he has as long as we play our cards wisely."

Lucifel stays in the same place as they chatter for some time, talking logistics and strategy, and then the older voice speaks: "Homunculus, escort Ruler to his designated quarters to retire for the night. The War won't begin until the last Servant is summoned; until then, you are dismissed."

There's the sound of shuffling as the conversation returns, fading off as the men exit to a different room, and finally, the woman - the homunculus - moves forward, kneeling down near him.

". . . Are you alright?" She speaks quietly, slowly as if still searching for her words, "That looked . . . painful."

Lucifel shakes his head, not an answer so much as still in the process of getting his bearings, and he begins to stand up.

". . . I'm uninjured. The journey was shaky, but my existence is stable because of you."

Politely, he offers her his hand with a courteous smile, and she takes it to rise up again.

"Thank you, my Master."

The homunculus blinks now, slow, and gives a nod - as if she has no idea how to proceed in the conversation, or perhaps has no interest in that line of subject, she turns to the exit. ". . . This way."

The broadcast cuts off as Lucifel goes to follow.

Edited 2018-10-03 19:06 (UTC)

The broadcast starts out in nothing but pitch black darkness. A man's voice speaks over it:

"The sixth judgment. The sixth Lord— You will see for yourself that human desire has no limits.

I've never seen a man more greedy than he is. It is astonishing. Even the man who tried to offer his daughter for wealth, money, and riches comes nowhere near him. His greed is for the world itself.

. . .

. . . Fun, you say? Hmmph. That's how I look to you? Then I must have very wicked tastes. First there was sorrow and tears. Then pain and suffering. Then he arrived to a great wish that could be called greed. It was never achieved, but his vengeance was the purest and noblest in the world. You would say that I find that—fun.

But I do not deny it. I have given up all that is good in me. What is left must be like a demon. One who mocks the noble wishes of man.

Haha. Hahaha! Fascinating. Indeed, you may be right. Either way—I have a certain respect for him. His boldness. His nobility. His greed! They are worthy of acclaim. And thus . . .

And thus . . . With great respect . . . My black flames shall destroy them all. My flames burn brightest against righteousness and noble wishes.

Be prepared, Master. You . . .

You must crush this Greed that would devour the world. Kill, or be killed. To put it simply, yes— He is a tough foe. Let your guard down, and you will die."

The darkness lifts, revealing dimly-lit stone walls and floors and a cavernous hallway. A young woman with a flag stands in the center of the room, and the doors open to reveal a man radiating blue electricity, whose clothes look more at times like shadowy tendrils than cloak. He looks surprised - then peeved, angered; as he becomes agitated, the electricity crackles louder and his tendrils move more wildly.

???: . . . You're here then, Avenger. Last time I was defeated, but this time I've made my decision.
???: I will defeat you, and I will stop you. I believe now that this is the way to guide you.
Avenger: No, no, no!
Avenger: Yes, I won't let you escape. I'll kill you someday. But not now! You're interrupting me, Holy Maiden! Your timing is almost as bad as Caderousse!
Master: (inaudible)
Avenger: It's because of who I am! If she refuses to admit the existence of wrath, then it's the same as denying my existence!
Holy Maiden: Keep raging, Avenger. Rage, is as you say—not easily dispersed. I can understand that. I've seen it many times.
Holy Maiden: Your anger will burn brightly, like straw set to flame. Until it burns the one who rages, and much of what surrounds him, to cinders.
Holy Maiden: But . . . Even if there is rage in your heart . . . You can still wish for forgiveness and salvation.
Avenger: Shut up! You would speak to me of forgiveness and salvation?
Holy Maiden: Yes, because—you have experienced it once for yourself, right?
Avenger: . . .
Avenger: (growing more agitated, becoming entirely shadow and electricity) Haha . . . hah . . . ! Hahahahahaha! BWAHAHAHA!
Avenger: "That" is not me! Do not speak of my vengeance, woman! My black flames seek not salvation! My rage brings no forgiveness!
Avenger: "Tyger, tyger, burning bright. For if you travel to the horizon beyond love and hatred."
Avenger: I am the Count of Monte Cristo! An eternal avenger! A wicked shadow carved onto mankind's history!
Avenger: I understand now, Holy Maiden. You and I can never get along! So I'll kill you here! I shall show you the true form of my resentment and grudge!
Holy Maiden: !!!

It's then that the sounds of footsteps resound throughout the halls, and a familiar face appears from behind the Holy Maiden - Lucifel, though his appearance is once more different. Upon seeing Lucifel's entrance, Avenger returns to his more humanly shape, as if having calmed.

Lucifel: Some feelings cannot be shared by mere words. Holy maiden, you should know this well.
Holy Maiden: . . . I know. I know. But I just can't give up.
Lucifel: —And that is why God still loves you, I'm sure.
Avenger: —I've been waiting for you, other Ruler! Avatar of Greed!
Avenger: I see. What a wonderful idea! Meet an exception with an exception! One Avenger and two Rulers. Interesting. Truly interesting.
Avenger: Servant Ruler! ███████ ██████ ████████!
Lucifel: —Hello, Avenger. In a different place, we might have had a very different meeting.
Lucifel: You call yourself the Christ of Vengeance. Words and prayers will not reach you, I'm sure.
Lucifel: But I believe in you. More than you could know.
Avenger: ???
Lucifel: If you know what a living hell is, then you should know what is truly valuable. You did not join in the King of Mages' plan. Therefore . . .
Avenger: —Shut up. He has no hatred in him. I've no interest in a being that exists outside of love and hatred.
Avenger: Don't get the wrong idea about me, ███████ ██████. I've never helped save the world.
Lucifel: That's true. Oh well. I don't like fights, but I guess this is how I shall guide you.
Lucifel: ██████ █████. I'll ask for your help. As a fellow ruler, not as one placed in the Chateau d'If.
Holy Maiden: Of course, ███████ ██████.
Lucifel: Thank you.
Lucifel: . . . Do you feel a little conflicted about this?
Holy Maiden: We can forget the past for now. I want to save him. As do you. So we must fight together, and there is no better ally I could ask for than you.
Master: (inaudible)
Avenger: Hahahahahahaha! That's a funny joke. Nothing could be more ironic, Master! I once learned that God does not save us! So now I will kill you, the avatars of His salvation!
Lucifel: I don't know about that—
Avenger: Let's go, Master. You and I are as one. now. Here in the Chateau d'If, where there is no salvation, if one continues to hope, and truly wants to go home . . . They must be guided! And I shall be the one to guide you!
Master: (inaudible)
Avenger: Hahahahaha! Yes! Yes! You roar like a tiger too!
Avenger: —Kill! Steal! Take back all that is yours!

The battle begins. From behind Lucifel and the Holy Maiden come in four serpent-like creatures - Wyverns, three of them darker and one lighter. Avenger's party defeats the first wave of dragons, only for two allies to fall, retreating to the back once they've taken sufficient damage. two more come forward. With their Master's orders, they manage to slay the great dragon that stands in the way - and now, there's nothing that stands in the way of Lucifel, the Holy Maiden, and Avenger.

The broadcast cuts there.

-

* The video may be found here from 0:00 to 2:05, and then from 2:29 to 4:00, although not quite the scenes that are depicted visually. While the mobs in the battle are the same, Avenger's allies are different. The latter fight will be presented in a different memory.

* The Master's voice may not be heard in this memory, nor their presence seen.

* Servants were randomly selected, as were the order in which they died.

Edited 2018-09-17 04:14 (UTC)

(WARNING: RAPE, DECAPITATION, HORRIBLE CRIMES BY HUMANKIND)

It's a particularly gruesome broadcast this time - there are warning signs all over it before the video starts to play, panning over a burning castletown. At the center square stands a dark-haired boy who looks somewhere around Lucifel's age - no, exactly with his height and stature and face shape and eye color, though his skin and hair is obviously different, as are his clothes. And also, you know, the fact that he doesn't have any arms - where there used to be elbows are instead bloody stumps, and he's bundled up in rope, sitting in front of an audience of people. "Audience" is a generous word - for the masses of people who are gathered in the square as well, a vast majority of whom seem to be tied up in the same manner as Lucifel. They aren't forced to be still like he is, however - many of them are accosted by the men who aren't tied up, assaulted physically or sexually or even both; in this sea of carnage, there is no one who is spared - not even infants. Those who are not tied up, who aren't participating in the carnage, line against the back walls - most mourn loudly, though some hold their tongues in silence. Even though they aren't tied up, occasionally someone is pulled from the audience to be forced into the carnage - clearly, they aren't meant to survive here either.

Through the cacophony of screams and cries, the dark-haired boy watches everything with an unchanging expression - impassive isn't the right word for it. Frozen with shock, pain, anger - his expression is hard with hate, gold eyes watching without looking away at the cruelties being done to the people around him.

His voice trembles as he murmurs, completely unfazed by the blade that rears up near his head. The words are inaudible, the sound of the fire and the screaming drowning his whispers out.

The blade comes down from one of the executioners and the broadcast goes black as there's the sound of metal hitting flesh; the feed returns once the deed has been done. The boy's body slumps over, and the camera pans to the head rolling to a dull stop on the ground.

The scene changes, slowly - to a wooden stand in front of a castle, caption indicating this is Nagasaki. On it displays the head of that young boy: the head of Amakusa Shirou Tokisada. The caption changes, then:

The Shimabara Rebellion lasted four months. The rebel force was completely annihilated, with only one survivor.

After the battle, an estimate of 37,000 people were decapitated on suspicion of being sympathetic to the rebel cause.

The leader of the rebellion, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada, was beheaded and displayed as a warning for all to see in Nagasaki.

It is said that his last words were, "I will come back in one hundred years and have my vengeance."

Then, the video finally cuts.

Edited 2019-01-14 09:11 (UTC)

Summoning in Chaldea, video format.

The broadcast shows a room that's dark but brightly lit - the constellations themselves seem to paint the wall of this room, and blue circuits run through in circles, balls of light sparking and sparking until a gold card crystallizes in the light. On the back side of the card is a woman with a scale. Then, as the card flips, it cracks into another bright flash of light - and Lucifel appears, hair short and brandishing a Japanese sword. He smiles on screen, to the invisible audience.

"Servant. Ruler.

Amakusa Shirou Tokisada."

There's a pause; his smile doesn't falter.

"Do I look like someone you know? I am sure it's only a coincidence."

Edited 2019-01-14 09:11 (UTC)

The broadcast opens with Lucifel looking pensive, seated on his knees in front of an older man - one with a similar jawline and with weary eyes that hold the same sort of bright and clear gold as Lucifel's own, albeit weathered with stress and age. It's hard to tell how old the man is - whether the age in the older man's body is from time or from conflict. Lucifel himself doesn't look much younger than he looks now - his hair is black, long, tied up and trailing down just to the middle of his back. There are other men around them, too - similar to the older man's age, though some are much older, and they all sit just a ways away. They aren't meant to be part of the conversation - at least not yet.

Someone brings forth a sword at the older man's request, one that rests on top of a pillow. The older man places it in front of Lucifel.

"██████. You know by now - war is just on the horizon. If we don't bear arms today, there won't be a tomorrow left for us."

He speaks, urging the sword forward as he does.

"This is yours. Take it. Lead the people - this is what God gave you that gift for."

Lucifel takes a breath, looking down at the sword for only a brief moment before he reaches out.

"Yes, Father. I - "

The boy takes a hold of the sheath, as if bracing - and then he startles, his whole body stiffening. His eyes widen, sudden shock too plain on his face for him to be able to hide it, and he ducks his head. If the man noticed, he does not comment; instead, he waits for Lucifel to continue.

Eventually, Lucifel does catch his breath, holding onto his sword tighter and bringing it close to his chest.

". . . I will. . . lead our people. Please. . . guide me."

With that, some tension bleeds from the older man's body - like he's found some relief.

"Of course. Your teachers and I are here for you."

The other men speak now, starting to talk strategy and whatnot - something about battle plans, something about how █████ will need to train more in his swordmsanship, but Lucifel is largely unresponsive. In the end, when finally the meeting has concluded, he excuses himself to go to his room, hurrying there to collapse onto the tatami just after the sliding door shuts behind him. The memory ends with Lucifel clinging to his sword, no longer able to hide the visible panic and borderline tears.

-

* Some notes about language: Elizabethan English is about the time period that Lucifel was alive (early 1600s). Lucifel and his father speak in Standard Edo dialect, though the other men speak in a more countryside/rural dialect.

Edited 2019-01-14 09:11 (UTC)

It's a short but somber memory: a funeral procession at a church for a man named Kotomine Risei takes place on a rainy day, and the number of people there are quite a few in number. Still, it's relatively quiet here - or maybe it's more like it's muted, the colors in the memory just as desaturated as the audio is muffled.

Lucifel is around, but never really interacting with many people. His hair is shorter, his clothes predictably black - he is not in his priest garb, however, but a suit.

Most people step away from him without paying attention, but those who do find their attention caught by him give him their condolences and he gives them reassurances: it was in his sleep, certainly, but his father had been expecting this for some time, and Kootomine Risei died without any regrets. He believed that to be the case earnestly.

The attending priest is young, looking like he more belongs with the mourners than with the clergy. People are more audible about their condolences to him - it's so sad, it's a good thing that his brother is here to be with him, you two only have each other now so take care of him. The man's name is Kotomine Kirei, it seems.

Lucifel and Kirei interact very briefly a few times in the memory, largely in the mechanical considerations of the funeral: when people are going to move from one location to the other, if the body is ready for viewing yet, technical things. Beyond that, Lucifel doesn't interact with Kirei - but if you listen to the chatter, it's clear that Lucifel and Kirei are siblings - and that Lucifel's real name is "Kotomine Shirou".

Someone translated the trial quest so you can find it here:

Part 2: The Young King and the Saint of Rebellion
Part 3: The False Grail Fails to Reach the Heavens

(Part 1 doesn't have Amakusa so it's a moot point.)

Names are blocked out for future playability.

Basically:

• Lucifel and a blonde little kid are fighting each other for a cup.
• The Master beats them both up.
• The cup creates a bunch of enemies to beat up.
• They beat every one of those enemies up.
• Lucifel namedrops himself.
• Also, Astolfo exists!!!!
• There are references to his dream being crummy. What is his dream what's going on.
• There's some sort of "king" that's some sort of threat?

Edited 2019-01-14 09:47 (UTC)

Translations here. If you're Lucifel's close CR, I really highly recommend reading this one!!!

Basically:

• Lucifel is at least 60 years older than he appears.
• He's part of the Church.
• He's also only a Ruler because of an error in the system and is otherwise weak as shit.
• He is not a canonized Saint.
• Some old guy comes out of the cup and gets beat up.
• Doodleman is here!
• Doodleman is like, hey, I only come out when someone's being a particular fucko and wanting to use this cup for their own selfish wishes! Who did it? Eenie meenie miney . . .
• Oh ew it turns out it's Lucifel?
• Lucifel tries to beat the Master up and get the cup.
• However, Doodleman beats Lucifel up.
• Lucifel tells the Master repeatedly that he will betray them if he sees a better option for his dreams down the line, that he's always going to be a loose cannon so he should be punished.
• The Master says, well, that sucks but I'm not going to punish you also I'm going to stop you every time, so,
• Lucifel is like wow I mean that's actually pretty respectable. OK guy but punish me with SOMETHING at least
• So Master tells him to go clean their room
• So he does.

It's 1AM so I'm just going to link videos now.

Names are blocked out for possible future playability.

BASICALLY:

• Lucifel is hanging out with some people! Big buff rice guy and a kid who doesn't look much younger than he does.
• Servants are apparently mentally tied to their physical age, and whatever they're summoned as they are. They cannot move forward mentally nor do they really consider their future selves to actually "be" them so much as kind of a half-hazy projection of someone's life that they know to be the future, like watching a biography or something.
• Anyway this little girl is apparently Santa Claus now.
• Also she's shit at it.
• Also Lucifel disappears a little after the fight.
• And then SANTA ISLAND KAMEN COMES!? WHO IS THIS MYSTERIOUS MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edited 2019-01-14 09:50 (UTC)

Names are blocked out for possible future playability.

7th Night: Last Present For You. It's just. Watch the whole thing.

• Lucifel is pretending to play the mentor turned villain for this little girl.
• Because otherwise... her... existence will... stop... if she doesn't find some way to latch onto something and make herself an actual person and presence that exists beyond her original incarnation
• it's also not even his plan! It was Master's! Wow!
• He had a lot of fun. He had especially a lot of fun being the villain.

Edited 2019-05-27 22:24 (UTC)

NEROFES MEMORY which just has a lot of Servant brawling. There are some speeches and stuff as well!!

Important video parts:

From start to 1:42, viewed like a TV broadcast in a TV broadcast.
From here to 7:58.
From here to 39:20, Protagonist's Servants left [vague].
This whole ass battle, Protagonist's Servants left [vague].

Important things:
• PHARAOH IS IN THIS MEMORY AND HIS NAME IS "There is no limit to the pha-"! So he's just as usual.

The broadcast starts with a man at the steps of a church that's been set aflame, bleeding out from a mortal wound. Curiously, his injury glows gold as he starts to disappear in a dull light.

Lucifel is dressed in Japanese-Western fusion regalia, his skin notably lighter though it's difficult to tell in the dark and the fire's light. His blade is drawn, blood dripping from it - it's evident that he's the one who killed the disappearing man.

With a flick of his wrist, the blood splatters in a partial circle, and he sheathes the sword. Lucifel disappears then, into glittering light - few sparkles remain here, the camera following them as they move to the direction of a nearby cave. It goes further, and then further in - until a glowing orb comes into view. It's gigantic - much larger than even a three story house - and the travelling sparkles increase in glow and number until Lucifel rematerializes, though this time he wears short black hair and a priest's garb.

He looks satisfied, elated; in a soft, revering tone, he murmurs: "Master, I've found it," and after some hesitation, reaches to touch the structure; his own body bathes in light then, the same light of the Grail.

The joy in his face abruptly drops - as if sensing something, he turns his head. " - Master? Master - "

At once, he starts - stops, looking confused.

". . . Of course - this body is material now. . ."

But he can't dwell on that. He starts in a run then, moving inhumanly fast and leaping higher than any human could, bounding over trees until he reaches a castle - no, just a little further than that.

In the field of snow, a young woman with white hair spills the last of her blood. Lucifel cradles her with a small sound of anguish; the woman's last words are inaudible.

A final tear spills from her eyes, and the video cuts.

It's just a memory of Lucifel in bed, absolutely and horrendously feverish. He is not having a good time!!

A young girl tends to him, looking worried. She changes out the towel on his head occasionally, otherwise holding his hand as he sleeps fitfully.

"They won't come to help."

A messenger reports to Lucifel, looking distraught. The conversation ensues as such - the Portuguese missionaries have fled, leaving the rebellion to fight without their help. There aren't many of them in any case, but it's the principle of the matter - being abandoned like this, after everything that they were told . . . ?

Lucifel looks stricken, but shakes it off. It's one bad news after the other though, as several messengers notify him and the council of older swordsmen, one of which looks like an older Lucifel: the shogunate's army has started breaking down the gate. Yamada Emosaku can't be found, but someone had caught a man's figure escaping the castletown just earlier. Most likely, he's abandoned them - and most likely, given the stand-off prior to all of this, the shogunate is likely striking now because someone tipped them off - it isn't hard to connect the dots.

Everyone, Lucifel included, looks emaciated and sick. The "soldiers" that scramble for their arms look less like soldiers and more like farmers, ordinary people; the women and children start to collect themselves in the castle, and Lucifel picks up a flag.

Now is the time - they have to fight.

They'll most assuredly die. It's obvious as the slaughter starts; even so, Lucifel charges into battle on horseback with that flag, until inevitably a swordsman cuts him down.

It's clear, from how the carnage goes: this isn't a battle, but a slaughter.

It's a quiet memory; Lucifel sits at the edge of the castletown's wall facing the ocean, watching the tide come and go. Another man is with him; he has an ink brush and paper, making broad strokes of waves on his canvas.

They chat for some time, idly; Lucifel is meant to be training soon but right now he has a few moments to spare and enjoy the peace. The other man - Yamada-sensei - confesses he wishes the battle be over already, that they be allowed to live their lives in peace. Lucifel wholeheartedly agrees.

"What d'ye love most in the world?"

Lucifel stops, looking stunned by the question. After some time, he speaks - he loves humans best. Just as Jesus did, he loves everyone on this earth.

Yamada shakes his head. Of course the Boy of Miracles would give an answer like that.

Lucifel looks embarrassed, reflecting to ask what his teacher loves most in the world. Yamada explains, then -

Art is his passion. He cherishes art more than he cherishes his own life; he would die before he would stop painting. He notes that someday, he wants to return to his home in the mountains - for he still has many works left unfinished, and he still has many more works to produce. He's grateful for this struggle they must endure, though - he can feel the creativity and inspiration flowing through his veins, and through this hardship he can surely produce more evocative works.

Lucifel laughs - of course, Yamada-sensei has an artist's heart - and wishes him well. If God wills it, by the end of this battle, Yamada-sensei will be able to return to doing what he loves.

The broadcast ends.

The broadcast is just a montage of Lucifel with purple hearts - they look like maybe they could be toys, except for the fact that, at some point there's actually Lucifel harvesting the heart itself from the corpse of a demon. Or, is it a god? Fake gods are gods, too. In any case, he eats them in fives and fifteens, repeatedly - with his bare hands. Delicately, like they're pit fruits even, and he even wipes the blood off afterwards. Interestingly, he seems to change at points - at first, dressed like a priest, and then later on with a red robe - and then finally, a Japanese-Western fusion regalia.

BASICALLY Lucifel gets beaten up by a lady in a kigurumi. Very cute! Very fun!

Then he gets eaten by the lady in the kigurumi. Physically. It's apparently so traumatizing that Amakusa can't be around jaguars anymore, so imagine this to be as graphic as you please because it is exactly that level of graphic! Very cute! Very fun! Yayyyyy!

It's not actually the full 20 years but it IS pretty much a blanket montage of a young man in a desert country doing a variety of what looks to be community work: he's helping around and learning how to cook, taking care of and playing with children, and working to help repair buildings. It's a lot of work, and the memory makes it evident that he's been here for some time - with how familiar people are with him and with the variety of subtle differences in the day to day work.

Mixed in between all of this are his sermons; he wears a necklace with a cross pendant and cleans up in a priest's garb for mass, leading prayer and reading from the Bible, blessing meals and such.

The young man is pretty recognizably Lucifel from his height and build - he looks exactly the same age as he does now - but his hair is a messy short cut and his skin is dark; if you aren't paying attention, he looks pretty similar to the locals in the memory.

Things to note: This is pretty much ~1950's-1960's Iraq, though one of the poorer villages so the technology doesn't really reflect the time period accurately.

20 years in desert unskippable - internal notes

sancrimony - 2019-05-11 23:35 (UTC) - Expand

The memory features Lucifel at a young age - no older than four, surely; at this size, his hair is black, barely gathered up into a small ponytail, and his skin is pale. He's playing in what seems to be a yard with a silk temari ball. He's playing with it, carefully bouncing it with his feet. At once, he overshoots; the ball kicks off against his toe and lands squarely in the middle of the pond.

His nose scrunches up and he looks back to the house and then to the ball, as if torn between telling someone or trying to get it himself. Eventually, he looks for a stick, trying to poke it closer to himself, only for it to drift away. In his struggle, he slips against the smooth riverstone . . .

. . . but he does not fall. Instead, his hand - automatically reaching out to the water - glows white at the palm, pressed against the water as if it were the ground. The surface tension hasn't broken at all.

Curious, he sets his other hand down to find the same result. Then, he crawls forward - and stands up, a little unbalanced at first but then finding it easier to walk. Then, as if this was a rather ordinary phenomenon, he runs forward to pick up his ball before it becomes soaked and starts to sink.

A voice calls for him, back at the house. He turns to look, and so does the camera - the woman there, in illustrious and high-quality kimono, perhaps looks familiar to some of you.

"Haha-ue - " is what he manages to call out before she gasps, rushing forward to try to pick him up. in a panic. She manages to reach for him, but not without kicking a small pebble into the water; it starts to sink, and so does he, before he's pulled up and out.

The rest of the memory is distant, faded; she questions him, comforts him, and then starts to call for someone else - her spouse - while Lucifel looks back to the retreating pond with curiosity.

i'm on mobile please be kind

Names are blocked out for future playability.

memory log

Regained

memory 01

w.b. yeats

memory 02

an ordinary day - broadcast (cw torture, bathroom content)

memory 03

the miracle of healing - broadcast

memory 04

silver spoon - broadcast

memory 05

servant of the einzberns - broadcast

memory 06

vengeful demon's wail at the prison tower: 6th door [beginning] - broadcast

memory 07

the story of a boy who gave up being a hero. - broadcast

memory 08

summoning - broadcast

memory 09

the start of a miracle - broadcast

memory 10

the last time - broadcast

memory 11

the false grail fails to reach the heavens - broadcast

memory 12

let us tell a tale of world salvation - broadcast

memory 13

the little santa alter [1] - broadcast

memory 14

the little santa alter [5] - broadcast

memory 15

commence! the second nerofes!

memory 16

at the eleventh hour - broadcast

memory 17

merry christmas in the netherworld!

memory 18

the nature of humanity

memory 19

an artist's heart

memory 20

60 hearts

memory 21

babylonia - broadcast

memory 22

20 years in desert unskippable - broadcast

memory 23

the first time - broadcast

memory 24

the little santa alter [2] - broadcast