[b][u]Annaliisa and Nemo[/u][/b]

Annaliisa stared for a moment, surprised at her Servant’s irreverent demeanor. Weren’t heroes of past ages supposed to be more...heroic? Or at least trying to be? And then she shrugged. No matter. Hell, it might even be better this way. A knight in shining armor might have been grating to listen to after a while. 

“Well,” Annaliisa brushed her hair back, an apathetic expression on her face. “I suppose. I did summon you.” Never mind that she’d killed what was supposed to be his original Master and stolen all of his goodies. “And the ‘theatrics’ weren’t my fault, either. Blame the bloody ritual for that one. Honestly though, you’re one to talk. You complain about showmanship and then kneel like some kind of knight?” 

“Well, pardon me,” Assassin replied simply in complete deadpan, nonetheless taking it as a hint that his display had served its purpose, “And the question stands, Magi. Are you the one who summoned me here? Are you my Master?”

“Alright, yes. I’m your Master. Happy now?” Annaliisa sighed, turning away to pull out another bottle of her favorite lemon Fanta, taking a swig. “Bloody hell, are you going to be like this the whole time?” 
“The ritual is complete, so yes,” Was Assassin’s initial response to Annaliisa, as he felt the flow of prana between the two of them strengthen as she confirmed their contract; and as she took another verbal potshot at him, he himself sighed. “Perhaps, perhaps not. I suppose it depends.”

Taking his attention away from his Master for a second, he took a look around the room; as of the force of the ritual that had just occured, the room had darkened, but that hardly mattered to Assassin. With the benefits his body afforded him, he could see clearly, if somewhat unfocusedly, in the dim darkness of the room. 

He seemed to be in the living room; at least, that was the impression he got from the furniture and rolled-up rug shunted off to the side to make way for the summoning circle used in his ritual. The curtains were drawn, wisely enough, and there seemed to be several crates, packages and boxes stashed over in one of the far corners of the room. Nothing particularly interested Assassin outright; there was a strange, flat device propped up on a table that would have interested him had the Grail not dumped the knowledge about it straight into his head when he saw it. That killed the interest a little bit.

“That aside, Master, have you any orders for me? The Grail War begins the very moment a Servant is summoned; if you have any task you would have me carry out, I wouldn’t hesitate in issuing it.”

“Go scout around the city for yourself. I’ve already had a look in the past few days. If you see an enemy Servant, feel free to engage at your discretion.” Annaliisa shrugged, kicking back onto the couch in the room. “You see a Master, ping me over our link and keep them in your sight. I’m in this Grail War to fight magi.” She paused for a second, frowning. “And if you see a redheaded Master that’s female and kind of looks like me...keep her alive and not permanently injured.” Hell, this would have been easier if she’d gotten a Knight-class Servant. Now she just wanted to fly back to London for a kip and kick that idiot magus’s corpse for leaving her with a catalyst for an Assassin.

Assassin’s only response was to nod before fading and turning to leave; his only real thoughts as he left revolved around his Master’s motives. She wanted to fight other Magi? Then why summon an Assassin, intended to approach Masters in secrecy and kill them efficiently? Had she thought this through properly?

‘This could be a problem,’ Assassin just thought to himself as his dematerialized form slipped through the door of the apartment, before another problem suddenly occurred to him. 
He paused, still dematerialized, and looked down at himself in spirit form.

As useful and intimidating as the armour could well be in a combat situation, it… left a hell of a lot to be desired for the practical purpose of reconnaissance or stealth. Damn that Innocent Monster skill, this wouldn’t do. 

“I suppose, Master,” Assassin called out to Annaliisa, as he glided back through the wall and rematerialized in the hall, “That you wouldn’t happen to have a practical change of clothes that would fit me? The Grail seems to have dealt me an odd hand in terms of my Class situation; to make full use of Presence Concealment, I may need something less attention grabbing than, well-”

Walking into the living room where Annaliisa was still slumped across the sofa with her strange lemon drink (which Assassin had to admit looked pretty damn refreshing), Assassin gestured up and down himself; drawing attention to his bloodstained and scarred armour as he did so.

“- This,” he finished, dropping his arms as he stared at his lounging Master.

Annaliisa took a look at Assassin’s armor for a moment before nodding her assent. “Fine.” She jerked a finger towards the room to her right. “The couple that used to live here left some clothes. You’ll probably find something decent in their closet.” 

Assassin just nodded before dematerializing and gliding through the wall of the room. A cursory search of the closet yielded promising enough results; whilst he would have preferred something else, the trousers and shirts seemed a decent enough fit for his frame, and the somewhat oversized old coat would be conductive enough to blending in. He’d just have to look for something better later, he supposed.

“Back in a few hours, then,” Assassin yelled to his Master from across the rooms whilst still dematerialized, taking just a few last moments to flatten down his hair with some leftover water in the sink before gliding through the walls and out into the night.