Aloft nothing but the edges of faint light, a faint but present sign of a silhouette sat in a windowsill. With but a leg dangled and arms folded, the motionless spec of life opened it's right eye. The was a reflective shine of red light from the iris, reflecting white letters "CI" in place of a pupil. They belonged to the mercenary, his eyes were cold as often a reflection of his ice-cold body. Where it not for the heart of steel, then his reanimation would be understood by others as grasping at straws.

From his perch he could hear echoes of rapid movement and loud clanking. Averting his eye to the storehouse, he simply rolled the eyes, he was off duty and unassigned. Playing "first responder" was never in his best interest, and when you had his salary, it'd have to be 3 times his current wages and shillings to pay for more initiative. Commonplace to mistake it for greed, but it was an exchange of camouflage, the trade of a hired arm to dirty their hands with the blood, sweat, and flesh of the client's enemies. The thought became a ravenous all consuming animal, all the more the mercenary thought, the darker his intentions then intern became.

He actually smiled, it seemed quite out of place for him, but as he stood from the window, it opened up behind him. A gust of air sucked inward from the slide, as the draft came in. It was none other than Catherine, General Ryoko's maid coming to retrieve the mercenary for an audience with "her master" as she often said bitterly. The mercenary tilted his head, slowly and cut a cold but heavy veil of ice towards the battle-turned maid.

"What does she want. Why didn't she come herself. Wasting my time, you-"

There was but the sound of something unsheathe, it was clean, it was fast, and most importantly the sound past in a mere flit. Fine steel, a rapier about 93 centimeters in length. Pointed directly in front of the mercenary's glowing eye, a scowl had appeared across the maid's face. Talking to her in such a tone was unacceptable, and thats putting the situation mildly. The mercenary took his finger and prodded against the tip of the rapier, in awe as he tried to examine it alongside Catherine's intentions on pulling it out on him. He was hardly even remotely sexually provocative or even active to be enticed by such a sadhist disguised invitation such as this (or so he thought to himself).

"Thats enough, I will not tolerate any more degradation from the likes of you military dog. It's scum like you that-"

"Remind you how a soldier becomes a serv-"

BASH!

The should of the metal shattering against the mercenary's head, and the steel splintered into pieces of loosened metallic shards. There was a loud ping, and right before Catherine's eyes, her Arc Blood Rapier, a prize from her past occupation has been repealed at a quarter swing across the mercenary's skull with the intent to slice his head clean through. She let out a high pitch scream of confusion mixed with anger and shock.

"Ouch...not me, the blade. That looks pretty damn expensive, I'm guessing you'll want me to replace that...well, i could always become your sword Catherine."

Her frustrated screams escalated, and she took him by the collar of his jacket and shook him violently, clearly forgetting he was still standing on the windowsill, held up by nothing but Catherine's hands flailing his torso back and forth.

"Ugh! Just come with me already, of all the mundane things, is obedience to an order really that difficult for you?!"

"Well no, not at all. Should you of all people, really be giving this reprimand to me?"

"Nein! Just be quiet and move your feet, military swine!"

"Yeah yeah, easy on the shaking...i'm seriously gonna fall to my death, for real this time."

In moments she'd pulled him through the window and they'd proceeded down the hallway to Ryoko's quarters.