[center][h1][b]Albert Prelati[/b][/h1]
Interacting with: Berserker ([@Grey]), Saber, Leon, Takumi & Togami ([@vancexentan]), James ([@Shadow Daedalus]), Brynhilda ([@Loki Odinson]), Jonathan ([@BubbleGumKing]), Amina ([@Phase Transit])

[h2]Fuyuki Church - 6:32 PM December 1st, 2012[/h2][/center]

[hider][i]Ma chère, zere is no need to be so impersonal. We are partners, no? Zen let us drink and make merry like partners should. We will 'ave a lot of work a'ead of us soon enough, after all. Starting tomorrow, ze 'Oly Grail War begins in earnest.[/i]

They departed into the cold night. Albert could sense his network of familiars expanding throughout the city like a root system, various observation nodes sprouting in its most distant corners and crevices as JK flew across the city dropping clusters of rats and bees. This was only the initial phase. Many of the familiars which represented these nodes would no doubt die soon enough, and the network would shrink slightly in places, tightening like it had been pinched. Small familiars like rats, mice, and his demonic bees tended to make great prey for larger animals. 

Then again, that was exactly what they were made for. They were valuable because they were [i]disposable[/i]. Their job was to collect as much information as possible and relay it back to him for as long as possible until they were found or killed. He'd explained this to them long before even embarking on the path to the Holy Grail War. The rats didn't care, so long as he gave them food and a home as long as he was able, and his bees barely had any concept of their own individuality, let alone self-preservation. They'd all made peace with their roles in life a long time ago. So had Albert. It made it just a bit easier when the first of those little nodes blinked out like a light.

[i]So they've started already,[/i] he thought, rallying more familiars to that area.
[/hider]

[center][h2]Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel - 7:36 PM December 1st, 2012[/h2][/center]

[hider]The trek back to the hotel took longer than expected. Late evening traffic had backed up the streets and expanded like black ice through the veins of the city. The sidewalks offered no reprieve, as it became blisteringly obvious that Fuyuki wasn't far enough to find any respite from the urban congestion that plagued most of Japan. 

But mostly, the trip took so long because Albert insisted on taking the most circuitous possible route back in order to ditch what he imagined were the prying eyes of other Masters. Whether this was just another facet of his peculiar brand of crazy manifesting itself or a genuine attempt to ward off a threat visible only to him and not Berserker was unclear, but also a question best left to someone else. Justified as he may or may not have been, Albert had no intention of making himself such an obvious target as Togami, and would not compromise on their safety.

Finally, after a few trips around the block and meandering visits to a jewelry store, the department store, a bakery, the bank, an internet cafe and the Ahnenerbe, his randomly chosen meeting place to converse with the other Masters, Albert walked through the doors of the Hyatt with confidence, quite certain that they were no longer being followed (had they ever been to begin with). He carried in his arms a bag containing freshly-baked cheesecake and some new outfits he'd bought for Berserker at her request. After all, if she was to protect him, it only made sense for her to stay in physical form as often as possible, and that required clothes. Clothes that would help her fit in better. Materializing from spirit form was a pain, and it cost precious seconds which they might not have in the middle of a surprise attack or ambush. Therefore, she assured him, clothes were absolutely necessary. He hadn't argued.

Unlocking the door to their penthouse suite (just because he wasn't Togami didn't mean he couldn't indulge in a few base pleasures), Albert removed the cheesecake from the bag and dropped the clothes on a chair for Berserker to examine or try on whenever it pleased her. He didn't have much experience buying women's clothes (why would he?) so he honestly wasn't sure if what he'd bought would fit her. That's why he'd opted mostly for sweaters and baggy jeans.

He opened the minifridge and then immediately pinched his nose. Right. He'd forgotten. David the dead cat was still slowly decaying in the fridge. Hoping Berserker wasn't looking, he hurriedly moved the cat to the freezer so he could work on it later. The decomposition was nowhere near bad enough to leave a lingering smell yet, but he was glad he'd left the wine in the ice box instead. 

Slipping the cheesecake into the fridge along with some bottled water and orange juice, Albert quickly shut the door and produced a bottle opener and a couple of quartz glasses. He handed one to Berserker, then clinked the glasses together. One of the hounds carried the ice box by the handle over to Albert, panting happily as he dropped it at his feet. 

"Zat's a good boy, Arthur. You go and play wiz Conan now."

The big black dog scampered off to wrestle with his canine compatriot, and Albert did something most unexpected. He opened a box tucked away in his suitcase and brought back a large ornate dagger, close in size and shape to a shortsword or a kukri. It had the word "AZOTH" carved into the blade in monumental block capitals, and the knife looked immaculately well taken care of. It was clear this was an item of some significance to Albert.

He fished the green and gold champagne bottle out of the icebox, and set it solemnly on the table, dagger in hand.

"Alright, if I remember correctly, zey said to do it like zis in ze Youtube video..."

He swung the dagger, nicking the neck of the bottle. The glass chipped, but clearly whatever Albert had intended to do hadn't worked. 

He swore. "Damn. Let's try zat again!"

He hacked inexpertly at the bottle a few more times. Finally, the blade slid, and the top of the bottle popped off, dribbling foam. Albert poured it into Berserker's glass.

"Finally... Alright ma chère, what you 'ave in your 'and is a glass of Salon 1994 Blanc de Blanc, ze finest vintage bubbly I could find, at least on such short notice, and as chasers I bought us a fine selection of Chinon rosè, Chalonnaise burgundy, pinot noir, and even a vintage Bordeaux I uhhh... [i]procured[/i] from my family's own cellar." He grinned at her. "Trust me, zis shit 'as [i]stewed[/i]. Mon grand-père was quite ze wine snob. 'E was a mean old bastard, but 'e knew 'ow to drink, and zis Bordeaux is almost as old as 'e was when 'e died."[/hider]