[center][h1][b]Albert Prelati[/b][/h1]

Interacting with: Berserker ([@Grey])[/center]

[center][h2]Fuyuki Hyatt Hotel - 7:52 PM December 1st, 2012[/h2][/center]

[hider]"Yes, let's..." out Albert paused, lifting an eyebrow. "Wait, 'ang on a minute. What do you mean by 'leave the landing to-'"

But by then it was far, far too late. In an instant, Berserker grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and jumped out the window, carrying him over her shoulder like a screaming sack of panicked French potatoes. 

"Ma chère, I did [i]not[/i] consent to zis!" he yelled with tears streaming down his face. "[i]I did not consent to ziiiiiis!"[/i]

[hr]

It took about ten minutes for him to calm down, and longer than that for his heart rate to return to normal. He grimaced as they bounded through the air like weightless ghosts, the city lights underneath them moving too fast to track as Berserker leaped from rooftop to rooftop. Damn her and her impulsiveness...

"You know ma chère, you could 'ave at least [i]asked[/i] me first. Just because you took me out for a little bit of wining and dining doesn't mean you can just 'ave your way wiz me," he said sarcastically. "'Ell, we didn't even [i]get[/i] to ze dining part..."

He closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp, cool air. The smell of a city at night was always different than during the day. He'd spent enough time seeing the world through his familiars' senses to understand the subtlety of that. For whatever reason, he found that new odors and fragrances you would've missed during the day were revealed when the temperature dropped and the city slept. Aside from the refreshing scent of new-fallen snow, he could smell at least five new scents mixed into the night air. And the smell of his Servant's hair whipping in the wind. 

Albert inhaled again. She had a surprisingly lovely smell despite her more brutish nature. Like a rose garden in the spring. It was quite beautiful, and it made him feel-

He stopped that train of thought quickly before it even left the station. [i]Cut it out, you weirdo. What next? Are you gonna stick your nose right up in 'er 'air and sniff?[/i]

"It's right up zere," he instructed Berserker. "Just a few more kilometers, zen take a right up ze 'ill."

Albert endeavored to relax, the lingering knowledge that his trust in his Servant was all that was keeping him from falling to his death slowly fading away into the background. He felt... tired. So tired.

"Ma chère," he said, yawning. "I'm going to sleep for a few minutes. Wake me up when we get zere."

With that, the professional facade of the calm, cool, and collected Master wise beyond his years fell away, and suddenly, there he was. A fifteen year old boy who fell asleep clinging to his Servant's back, like a younger brother being carried by his big sister. 
[/hider]

[center][h1][b]Ren Mizushima[/b][/h1]

Interacting with: Rider ([@BubbleGumKing])[/center]

[center][h2]Fuyuki City, Miyama Town - 9:30 PM December 1st, 2012[/h2][/center]

[hider]"Hrrrmmmmmmm!..." 

Ren Mizushima groaned, cracking his back. He'd finally, [i]finally[/i] finished unpacking. That suitcase felt like it had weighed a ton when he'd been carrying it up the stairs. And that was just the bare essentials...

He grimaced. That's right. He still needed to pick up the rest of the stuff the professor had had shipped into Japan before he left. Dammit. Honestly, who sends their student ahead to do all the heavy lifting while they dick around back at home trying to decide what catalyst to bring? Couldn't he have decided that a week ago? Sorting through and processing all the different request forms for that sort of artifact took the Clocktower a long time, usually. He should've learned how to manage his time better.

Ren sighed, adjusting his glasses. No point getting upset about it now. Better to just get it over with.

Almost tripping as he stumbled down the stairs towards the living room, he ducked his head in and announced, "Going out for a bit, mom!" to which his only response was a noncommittal grunt. He honestly hadn't been expecting her to be home when his flight landed in Fuyuki. Normally he was used to her working all hours of the day and night so he never got to see her (at least not very often), but when he'd arrived home, he'd found her sleeping on the couch with a special cake already laid out. She'd not only been home, but she'd stayed up for hours waiting for him.

He smiled as he tiptoed past to put on his shoes. She must have had it a lot easier now that she didn't have to work to support two people. Four years ago she'd been stuck in a strict cycle of work/sleep for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Now she'd come home early to surprise him and had even bought a cake. He supposed it was only appropriate to celebrate after you'd been gone so long.

Ren's fingers stopped as he finished tying his shoes, still holding on to the plastic ends of his shoelaces. It was already four years, huh? He had to admit, he hadn't quite thought he'd ever be gone that long when he first agreed to travel with the professor. He'd sent cards back home of course and skype made it so that no one was ever too far away if you were willing to take a call, but...

Four years. It'd been four years since he'd gotten to see Fuyuki. Realizing that now made him really think about just how much time he'd ever spend here again if he intended to continue his path as a mage. Would he [i]ever[/i] come back again after the Holy Grail War? Fuyuki wasn't much to look at, but he'd been born here. Grew up here. Would it really be that easy to leave it all behind? 

Grabbing a coat, he decided that as long as he was going outside, he might as well take a little memorial walk for old time's sake. Burn the image of Fuyuki into his head. It'd be a useful thing to be as familiar as possible with the area once the fighting started, and it didn't hurt that he'd also wanted to see everything that might've changed in the last four years.

[hr]

Ren sighed. As it turns out, not a whole freakin' lot had changed. Everything was still exactly as he'd left it. Fuyuki, it seemed, was about as open to change as the fucking tides. The only major renovation this city had ever seen had been after the great fire of '94, and that was way before his time.

He was carrying about four heavy boxes, all of them magecraft-related supplies, equipment and paraphernalia the professor had wanted shipped to Japan. Half of the stuff in these boxes was probably way beyond him, so he treated it with reverence and a healthy amount of fear the same way one does a barrel of nitroglycerin or a stick of dynamite.

Peering over the top of the boxes to see where he was going, he headed down one of the long side-roads leading into Miyama town, where his house was. It was a long walk from the delivery point, but that would at least make him difficult to follow. Come to think of it, the fact that he lived in Miyama town could be seen as an advantage in the upcoming Grail War, since all the houses pretty much looked the same. But still, that forced him to think about one hair-raising possibility he'd tried to ignore up until now. 

[i]The professor... living in my house,[/i] he thought grimly. [i]With his Servant.[/i]

He didn't dislike the professor. Quite the opposite, he thought very highly of him as his teacher and elder. But as Watson had once said about the great Sherlock Holmes, the man had eccentricities the same way dogs had fleas, and at times he could be incredibly embarrassing to be around. Not to mention he had a habit of chasing anything wearing a skirt. 

Ren went white. The thought of that made him want to puke. No. No he could [i]not[/i] let that happen. Teacher or not, the professor wasn't laying a finger on his mom. If he had to call that man "dad", he thought he might rather die instead.

Ren stopped, forgetting his quibbles about the professor almost instantly. Something was wrong. He could [i]feel[/i] it in the air. Something like the smell of blood. Should he take off his glasses? Call the professor? Try to pick something out of one of the boxes to defend himself with? 

No, no and no. His Pure Eyes would be useless at best in a fight, distracting at worst. The professor was still in England. And the boxes... he didn't trust himself to take the tape off of what was inside them. Trying to actually [i]use[/i] them was out of the question. But he did have...

Gently setting the boxes aside, Ren slipped on the Flow Manipulation Glove the professor had given him. If this person was a Servant, or a hostile magus out to kill him, then it likely wouldn't do diddly to defend him. But he had to think of [i]something[/i].

Squinting, he could faintly make out a humanoid figure in the distance, standing under a lamp post. Was that the source of this menacing aura? They looked hurt though. Weak. 

He approached cautiously, adjusting the fingers on the glove. The closer he got the stronger the scent became. He could see now that she was a tall woman, with incredibly long hair that was a brilliant, unnatural purple. She was also carrying weapons. Two long, wicked looking daggers that resembled huge nails on the ends of chains. But she still looked weak, like she was exhausted and barely able to stand.

"Umm, excuse me? Are you..." he asked, but then stopped as the woman collapsed in the snow. "H-Hey! Are you okay?! Do you need me to call an ambulance?! Ah, dammit!"[/hider]