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

Interacting with: Berserker [Roland] ([@Grey]), Leon & Saber + the Padre & Berserker [Beowulf] ([@vancexentan])[/center]

[center][h2]Jonathan's base of operations - 2:48 PM December 2nd, 2012[/h2][/center]

[hider]The tension in the room was reaching a slow boil. Saying the wrong words right now could topple the whole flimsy house of cards, a disturbingly literal metaphor in this case. But Albert was having the wrong reaction. He chuckled. At absolutely the wrong time, and the wrong place, he couldn't help but laugh. 

"Oh zis is rich. You're just giving up? Some Master of Saber you are!" he yelled at the retreating Leon. "[i]And zey say ze French are cowardly!"[/i]

Albert sighed, having gotten it all out of his system. Well that had been short-lived. However, at the end, they'd both said all that needed to be said about their relationship. He just couldn't work with someone who turned tail and ran so quickly against an opponent like this, that was all there was to it. Now he needed to save his words for someone else.

He craned his head back to look at the mercenary Executor.

"You up zere. 'Oly man," he said. "Before you pull ze trigger, why don't you riddle me zis. If I'm ze selfish, dis'onorable one, zen why aren't I up zere where you are, holding zat gun? If a magus is scum like you say, zen why is ze only one I see 'ere threatening ze lives of 'undreds of innocents just to prove some idiotic point ze man 'iding be'ind ze cross? Make your excuses all you want, padre. God will not show you 'is mercy when you go to 'ell. And neizer will I."

He stepped out into the open so his voice could be heard better. Loudly and clearly, he accused the man. Condemned him. [i]Lectured[/i] him, even, as if he did indeed have the balls to insult an enemy to his face as Beowulf claimed.

"A necessary evil does not kill a 'otel full of people just to eliminate two magi. A man of ze cloth does not condemn ze blameless for ze sins of all mankind. And a hero of justice does not stoop to such cowardly actions for ze sake of zeir own personal vendetta! You're a liar if you zink you are any of zese zings." Albert pointed his finger up at the clown-faced man. "I was willing to negotiate wiz you before. I was willing to settle for leaving here wiz ze fairies if I needed to. But now I'm not. Because I see what you are now. You're not a righteous man, an Executor, or even a crusader."

Albert's eyes darkened as they took on a disdainful, almost savagely hateful look.

"You're just a shit'ead wiz a gun who zinks ze world is really as simple as black and white. And I cannot stand men like you."

He waited until he was sure Leon had left the building. Angry as he was at his fairweather friendship (not that they'd ever really been friends to begin with), he wasn't so petty that he'd deny him his chance to escape. Flourishing dramatically, Albert held his arms out at his sides like he was posing for the cross. 

"Go a'ead and pull zat trigger, padre! Do it! Do it, you mozerfucker! Va te faire foutre!" he spat. "And when you do, both you and your Berserker will be dead, and we'll all get to see just how fast a Servant is compared to a bomb!"

Albert swallowed hard the lump in his throat. 

[i]Ma chère,[/i] he thought quietly. [i]I trust you. Do you trust me?[/i]
[/hider]