[u][b]Assassin- Nemo[/b][/u]

As the apartment room filled with light, all fell silent after the initial rush of air; and slowly, ever so slowly, the room seemed to drain of all feeling. 
The light cleared, revealing fog and smoke billowing out from the spent magical circle; the warm glow of the circle was gone, with only a cold, dead dimness in its wake. Whatever light had been in the room before was now gone, undoubtedly snuffed out by the force of the ritual that had just taken place, as was the same with whatever had warmed it.
It was cold, dark and silent. 

And then that cold, dark silence was shattered by the sudden sound of footsteps.
From the smoky fog created by the summoning, emerged a tall, gaunt man; clad head to toe in iron armour defined with all manner of scars, gashes and dents, soaked in a coppery sheen of blood. A helmet upon his head revealed his face; and a pair of piercing, icy blue eyes.
He stepped from the circle and the fog, the scarred armour not making so much as a sound as it glided fluidly over itself, and stared at Annaliisa for a single long moment. 
The air around him was impregnable; he seemed more like a ghost or a phantom than a glorious spirit of old, with the only indication he was any more than a grim spectre the flow of prana now emerging between himself and the girl before him.

The moment passed. He stared.

And then he let out a deep sigh and waved his hand to disperse the fog. 

"Are all these bloody special effects really necessary?" He asked in a deep, smooth voice, in a tone that seemed to convey sarcastic irritation of all things, a the dark atmosphere fading away in an instant as the fog seemed to dissolve into nothing, as he reached up to remove his helmet. 
The man could now be seen to have a head of somewhat untidy black hair, not overgrown but simply unruly, and the imperceivable, phantom-esque aura that had hung about him just moments before was completely gone as he muttered something under his breath about 'magi' and 'theatrics'. 

Another moment passed. The man tucked his helmet under his arm and, looking at the girl before him with some manner of interest, knelt before her in a display of fealty.
"I am Assassin, the Servant called by the Grail to act as your dagger in this coming war. I ask you thus; are you my Master?"
_________

[u][b]Beatrice[/b][/u]

Beatrice nodded to Saber as their contract was completed, withdrawing her hand and walking over to the other side of the room where her tools were located as her Servant pulled herself to her feet, missing the bow directed towards her as she went.
She hadn't bought a whole lot with her; just her catalyst, what she'd need to draw a summoning circle, and what she'd need if she bumped into a fellow Master on the way over. Hitches aside, the night had gone well; she wouldn't need to use Grasscutter tonight.
A shame, really. She'd hoped she might find at least one other Master to have some fun with before they summoned their Servant. Oh well.
too bad for them. 

Whatever the case, it seemed as if she'd be bringing more back with her than what she came with; not only did she have Saber in tow, she'd helped herself to some of the packaged meat she'd found whilst preparing the cellar for the summoning. A simple spell would be enough to preserve it until she got back to the room and her cooler; and hey, it'd be great to have some half-decent food to cook when Saber and herself inevitably had to go stake a place out. Beat catching pigeons, anyway. Not enough meat on those little bastards for her taste.

It was then that Beatrice was distracted again from her train of thought by Saber; and as the Servant asked her if this was where she lived, Beatrice couldn't help but outright break into laughter.

"Oh, Saber, you are hopeless. No, this is my workshop. Not even my main one, even! Just set it up a few days ago so I'd have a place to summon a Servant in peace. I'm staying over the other end of town, though I'd be lying if I said that place was any tidier than this~!"