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Snakes. Slithering. Hissing. Slipping between the cracks of her focus, into the forefront of her mind, and into her magic. Ophelia snarled, as the foreign magic encroached upon her own, and forced it back... down. No woman forced her to move -- neither physically nor metaphysically. ~Empress...~ Lucius opened dialog, however, he didn't press, as he knew Ophelia's temper was raised beyond honeyed words of calming.

Instead, he got himself prepared for her. Ophelia's left hand curled around a handful of flour, while her right slid into her bra, and curled around a playing card. Her eyes narrowed, as she pinpointed the hisses, and settled on the green-haired girl. In a singular instance, she whipped her flour-filled hand at Mitsugi -- polluting the air around her head -- and crushed Lucius's card.

Forward, she flung herself, as a mammoth iron shield in the style of an Roman scutum formed; destined to slam into the girl.

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Walking towards the car that Seamus was directing them towards, Phillip would uninstall his class card as he realized that his full plate mail armor would make it difficult to not only get inside the sedan, but also uncomfortable for anyone sitting next to him. As he was ducking underneath the roof of the car, the wave of mana would pass through the group, it's overwhelming pressure being felt by all of the masters present and their new chaperone. With no sound of an argument from the blue haired young man, he'd ride with the rest of the group to the crime scene.




Upon their arrival, Phillip would be the second person out of the car after their driver. His legs were wobbly from the second rate Takumi Fujiwara who had gotten them to their destination, but he didn't complain. Instead, he wordlessly made his way past the police and their yellow tape just as he had at the last crime scene, kneeling down where the officer was now End of Watch. The coroners were already in the process of taking away the body, but detectives were still combing over the evidence left behind by the one who'd killed their brother. He didn't have any sort of gloves or cotton swabs that would allow him to touch anything without contaminating it, but he could still help. Pulling on the sleeve of one of the cops to get their attention, he pointed toward the discarded class card that was covered in saliva. "Did any of the eye witnesses mention the attacker spitting out a piece of paper or card? Perhaps some DNA could be acquired from that object."

Wouldn't it have been better to take the card yourself? A voice asked in his head as the detectives inspected the class card of Robespierre. I alone cannot protect you from every enemy we may face in the future.

Phillip shook his head in response. I'm more worried about catching whoever did this. If they went so far as to attack who I assume to be another master in broad daylight, I believe that they're a much larger threat than any other.

What makes you think this officer of the law was a master?

If I killed that man in the alley who had been pointing his gun at me, would I have then left you behind so you could be taken by others? No. If this person's so confident in their ability to attack in broad daylight, they might believe that their current card is all they need to hunt us down and wouldn't care to collect the ones their victims dropped.

That does sound like a very probably scenario. For a moment, there was silence before Richard asked the question on most master's minds. Do you think this officer was the murderer we were trying to find before? The card, the motorcycle, the knowledge on how to cover up a crime. He would have all of these.

Yes, it is possible, but it's also no longer my main concern. His murderer is however.
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Marie stayed silent as she watched the one person examine the scene it was obvious what was happened and she honestly couldn't say she cared any more or less about it. "To be a magus is to walk with death" that was one of the first things that was taught and as such it means that you cant let death be a hurdle. Or so it was how she interpreted it the officer who was killed probably had it coming from her understanding such was the way when dealing with servants. "Uuu.... Uuu" She heard in her head as her servant tried speaking to her. Agreeing with the advice berserker gave her she gave a subtle nod no matter how she wanted to see it was best to wait till the officers was gone before doing anything.
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Sajan took in the call silently, trying ignore the jab at the end. Right now she needed to find a dangerous criminal, not trade words with an operator. She did wonder how long they had been tracking her progress, however. But her thoughts would need to be squarely focused on sussing out where her target might be. She sensed as the signature ebbed out, and given it was getting closer at the time, it could only mean they had abandoned their installation in favour of hiding among the populace. They would have to be picked out by more conventional means. Fortunately, someone extremely suspicious appeared in the crowd in due time. If this man was indeed the criminal, he was not doing a remotely good job of making himself inconspicuous. His overall nervousness aside, one look told Sajan he was unlikely to be a Japanese native. Given the man she had just apprehended stood out as a Caucasian here himself, it hardly seemed unfair to think his potential co-conspirator was of a similar shade. In fact, while it could be due to a lack of familiarity with white people, Sajan swore they looked alike in more ways than their skin tone.

Sajan had made up her mind; this man was all too likely their murderous knight. If this had been under similar circumstances to the first man, she would've continued to favor the subtle approach, but he did not look like he was in the mood to be approached by anyone, let alone another card user. Instead, Sajan looked to a nearby apartment building and began to ascend the stairs within, heading for the roof access.

'What are you doing, Sajan? What is your plan here?' The Guru piped up as she dashed up the steps.


'I'm going to give this guy a taste of his own medicine from the roof.'
Sajan let him know plainly.

'Is this not too rash? Should you kill him now, it will be in public for all to see.'

'Perhaps, but our intelligence failure has already costed more lives. I think it's worth the risk to put an end to this before he kills again.' This man's robberies were known to be lethal. If they let him escape here, he would inevitably kill again. Sajan would endure any consequences, and even the Guru's disapproval, as long as this was brought to an end.

Emerging onto the roof, Sajan could see that the man was still down there. Wasting no time, Sajan readied the Guru's bow and let loose. With luck, this would be over in one brief moment. If not, Sajan was worried about what might come next.

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A simple grunt of exertion sounded, as Ophelia sank her shield into the flooring -- letting the fireballs impact and shatter; scattering away like clouds of flour from a counter-top. ~This is mildly favorable, Empress. Berserker has no advantage over myself, a Shielder. However, the opposite holds true, as well. All we hope for, here, is a war of attrition...~ Lucius held a moment's silence, before finishing, ~Berserker's forte.~ Ophelia curled her lips into a sneer, and hefted her shield. "I have no intention of letting some two-bit trollop overtake my position," she says, steeling her resolve and footing, as she marched forward against the assault of flames, "Not today. Not tomorrow. Not EVER."

In the midst of her monologue of devotion to being Alpha Bitch, Ophelia was looking for a weapon. As fine a weapon as her shield -- standing as tall as she, three of her wide, and made of magical spirit iron -- was, it was still a shield. It's primary purpose was defense, and limited offense; to swing it around like a flattened out club was to waste energy and open opportunity. 'If I can get close enough to throw flour at her...' Ophelia grimaced, and hunkered down where she stood. 'That sound! So annoying!'

~Embrace it, Empress. The wartime sounds of battle are chilling, unless you embrace it.~ Lucius consoled his Master, ~Embrace it, so you cannot be swayed in your march. Surely, sometime lies before you to cull this fire.~ Ophelia grit her teeth, and reached into her flour divination sack; taking a large handful, and cramming it into her mouth. It was a nervous habit turned into a compulsion that brought a moment of inspiration, as she closed her eyes and let the bitter, chalky grain powder soften and thicken in her mouth.

All too sudden, Ophelia opened her eyes, and spat out the flour paste. "I know what to do," she said, as she scanned for a fire extinguisher. Eyes darting up the hall, she saw one, resting in its regular interval, seven feet behind Mitsugi. "Here goes everything!" Ophelia shouted, jumping back, and rearing back with the shield.

Lucius reminded her that she had merely seconds to do this right, and would find little, perhaps, no, opportunity to do it twice. Aware, Ophelia stomped surged forth, and threw her entire body weight forward with all her might; sending the shield ahead of her, and straight at Mitsugi. The Berserker Master had two options: duck or deflect.

Ether way, the opening existed for Ophelia to break the fire extinguisher free of its housing, and get behind her.
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Sajan


In spite of hitting her mark, Sajan couldn't help but think of this as something approaching the worst case scenario. She was hoping to try and nail the bastard a few more times, but the advent of fire in the building below her certainly absorbed her attention. She could hardly expect any better from a lowlife criminal, but she cursed the fact that she hadn't considered the danger to the people nearby in confronting this man. They were all now in danger due to her recklessness.

'Guru Ji...' Sajan began, wanting to apologise to the Guru for her failure.

'Don't. Just act decisively.' His words were commanding, but not harsh. It was true; there was no real time to lament her lack of foresight. There was still an opportunity to make something of this situation. The window was closing, however, as the man seemed to be rapidly counter-attacking, in spite of actively fleeing the scene. A barrage of flaming arrows was coming down on the building, as though he meant to drown her in fire. Her phone activated to update her on the situation. Sajan was more happy to hear they were mounting an evacuation for the building than anything else. For now, though, she would have to focus on making her way out of this inferno.

Racing to the side of the roof, she noticed a balcony with a railing attached to the building just over from the apartments. Deciding to take a chance, Sajan leapt from the roof, aiming to grab hold of the railing. She met her mark, and from there dropped down to a window sill below before finally dropping down safely to the streets. At this point, she decided to install her card in full, as this was now a full blown duel between the two of them. With his own installation giving away his position, Sajan felt it was time to let him know just how powerful the Guru's bow was. As she rushed forward towards the alley, she arced a few shots in the direction she knew the man was traveling. While she couldn't be sure of a hit, she could be sure that her arrows would impact near him, and he would soon learn that the alleys could not hide him from the bow that intimidated Aurangzeb's generals at Anandpur. No matter what, Sajan intended to chase him wherever he intended to flee.

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Looking over the destruction left behind by the fight between the killer he'd originally been trying to find and the killer's killer, Phillip tried to piece together what had occurred on this street. Whoever this was, they were certainly strong in order to create cracks in the concrete and their weapon sharp to make such an incision. Impossibly so. Of course, ever since he met Richard the Lionheart he had learned that what used to be defined as impossible was considered parlor tricks by these other masters and their servants.

The biggest mystery was the appearance of this new player in the game, and there was no way of knowing that by looking at a crumpled bike and cracks in the ground. Approaching a random civilian on the outskirts of the police tape, he asked them, "Did you happen to see the one who did this? Or even better, capture it on video or on your phone?"
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Marie watched as they investigated and asking questions when she overheard the person saying the attacker was "hot" this meant that they saw how she looked like from the sounds of it or at least a solid glimpse. "Beyond being pale of skin and hair was their any other distinguishing feature you can tell me about the assailant?" Marie asked walking up to the person her short stature and child like appearance giving her a cute look despite how she was trying to look important which served the opposite and made her look a bit like a child trying to play tough with how she was all but sticking her chest out in the attempt. The tall figure of the person she was asking easily towering over her which made it all the more comedic to those watching. Just as Marie was about to ask another question she sneezed ruining her "imposing" look she was trying for and in the end looked all the more cute from her sneeze and how "adorable" sounding she heard over the crowd but couldn't place who exactly.

"Uuu..." Marie heard over the mental link she shared with her servant card it nudging her to ask about anything else they may have noticed. With a agreement in her head Marie spoke up once more. "Beyond features can anyone tell me if they say what weapon if possible they used?" She asked that was a important question with it they would be able to at least narrow what class somewhat as it was highly unlikely that a archer would be using a sword of all things.
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It seemed as though this robber was content to turn the area into a veritable inferno. He truly had no honour to recklessly endanger those around him on such a massive scale. Although she lamented the devastation, at this point, she had only resolved harder than before to catch the bastard. If he would burn up an entire district just to escape her, what would happen the next time someone tried to bring him in? His viciousness needed to be stopped here and now.

Surprisingly, it turned out that rather than running, he had decided to come back and face her. It was beyond belief; not only was he rushing into the hands of someone that wanted to kill him, while injured no less, but he was heading in the same direction of all the fire and smoke he had a hand in creating. When he finally came into her direct sight, however, Sajan had an inkling as to his plan. Did he believe it would be as simple as engaging her with a sword to defeat her? He either truly believed she would be defenseless at close range or was extremely confident in his swordplay. Without hesitation, Sajan simply shouldered her bow and called forth the Guru's Kirpan. Unlike the modern Kirpan she concealed on her person, this was a significantly larger blade. Sajan hoped for his sake that the man actually knew how to use his sword, or she would be about to humiliate him with her skills. Moving to close the gap, Sajan planned to allow the man to attempt to strike first, and then slip past his attack and strike herself. Alternatively, if he should lose his nerve, she could just try and run him through from behind.

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It was with a grunt and a groan that Ophelia slammed into the pavement, bounced to the sidewalk, and popped onto her feet; brushing off her rather ornate and elegant kimono, erasing dirt from the soft, teal-green fabric. “My, my, sturdier than I thought,” she purred, fetching her paper fan, Samadhi, and unfolding it. “Such an exciting man, so wild and fast,” Ophelia said, fanning herself. “Wait? What? No! No, no, no, no, hellll no!” she says, snapping the fan shut. ~He is fetching, isn’t he?~ Kiyohime asks, very glad that Seamus happened to be fetching male, and Ophelia a young female; it made taking control so much easier. ~He isn’t far. We aren’t far. Go to him, our Anchin.~ Ophelia groaned, shaking her head. “I won’t...” she says, slowly breaking due to Kiyohime's double-edged skill, Stalking.

“I’m not so weak-willed!” Ophelia couldn't shake Seamus from her thoughts, though. ~Weak-willed? To love? To passion? Silly child, you are so young and foolish.~ Kiyohime teases. “I am not!” Ophelia countered. “I don’t have time for love and passion,” she says, trying to resist falling to temptations, “I’m a Sander, first and foremost,” her eyes narrowed, the sun-kissed yellow of Kiyohime’s serpentine eyes overwrote her natural born crimson iris, but not their seriousness. ~And, blood should interfere with nature? I was born a headman’s daughter, and yet, I swept it all away for my Anchin. So, too, should you.~ There was barely an argument – more like an suggestive order to follow from the bottom of her heart... and damned teenage hormones.

“Yes,” Ophelia says, cracking further, and listening to her heart, as Kiyohime’s honey-sweet words wrapped around it, like a snake. “I should go to Anchin!” she mewled, looking down the road. Seamus hadn’t gotten far. “But, shouldn’t I bring him something first,” she puzzled, “A meal?” Kiyohime nodded, agreeing. ~A meal would do great for him. But, first, you have to get him in your possession.~ Ophelia nodded, and drew her fan open. In her mind, she knew that Seamus wouldn’t notice her without good reason.

“I’ll get him,” she says, reduced to almost the same mental state as Mitsugi. However, unlike Mitsugi, she had a secondary personality, of sorts, and Lucius would tame her, if she got out of hand. However, he knew better than to interfere with the flights of fancy of a woman; especially, if she perceived herself in love and was the current emulation of Kiyohime. It would be embarrassing, and he would console her in quieter moments, but, for now, he would let this play out, as it would.

Ophelia was stronger, in intelligence, than Mitsugi, so, at the very least, there wouldn’t be fires to put out.

“Anchin~!” Ophelia cooed, literally shoving parked cars out of her way, as she marched over to Seamus.

At least, physical ones.
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It seemed like it was to be a day of worst case scenarios for Sajan. She had been directed to the wrong person, allowing the robber to kill and steal once more. Her arrow had failed to deliver the killing blow, resulting in this scumbag being able to unleash devastation on the surrounding area. Now, it turned out this guy really did have some skill and certainly much strength in close quarters combat. From their clash, Sajan learned it was best never to lock blades with him, lest he overwhelm her. Fortunately, it proved simple enough to maneuver out of any such clashes, especially as he lacked agility.

It only got worse, however, as he revealed his ability to spit flaming arrows from just about wherever he pleased, or so it seemed. This explained how he was able to maintain his assault as he fled earlier. The saving grace of the situation was that for as intimidating as this storm of arrows he was unleashing appeared, they appeared to lack accuracy. She could easily maneuver in and around the mess of arrows. The only worry was that the ever rising flames might prove too much. However, with all this thought of arrows, Sajan came to a realisation; the arrow she had hit this man with was most certainly not sticking out of him any longer. Had he pulled it out? If that was the case, he truly wasn't all that clever. Unless he possessed some obnoxious healing factor, or his armor was so tight it bound the wound, then he would certainly be bleeding all the more profusely from it.

A plan forming in Sajan's head, she intended to keep moving, perhaps even circling the man. As she moved, she would take intermittent jabs and slashes aimed at his right side, more specifically his right arm. Though she fully intended to exploit any gap in his defense, it was less important to her strategy to actually hit him, and more to put strain on the wound that she expected was already straining him quite fiercely. If she could overwhelm by exploiting his weakness, then perhaps he would wear himself out, or at least find it all too difficult to raise his rightmost armament in his defense.

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Noticing that neither of the other two masters were jumping at the chance to accept the new card, Phillip decided to accept the card. They needed to learn more about what happened here, and who better to ask then the victim of the crime. Holding out his hand to accept the card from Seamus, he removed it from it's sealed plastic bag and held it up to get one last look at the crumpled piece of magic paper.

Are you sure this is the wisest course of action? The man at your feet was probably corrupted into a murderer because of his card's beguiling words. Not wanting to see his new master fall from grace after only knowing him for a few weeks, Richard spoke up.

We need answers and this is the surest way to get them. I accept any consequences this may bring us. With those final thoughts, Phillip brought the card to his chest, adding it to his now growing collection of servants.

Bonjour, monsieur. I've been waiting for you. The voice reeked of pompous superiority and self-importance as it spoke within the young man's mind. This was not a voice he would enjoy listening to.

Why me specifically?

Well no, not you. Just someone else who'd become so greedy for power that they'd come to me for my gifts.

Actually, I'm here for answers. If you're cooperative, I might even keep you instead of locking you inside a police evidence locker to rot away. It's probably what you deserve after the dozen or so murders you've made so far.

Hmmph. You aren't even worthy enough to hold me between your filthy fingers.

I didn't realize that being locked inside a mold filled room with no contact with any other human being for the next several decades would sound so much more appealing in comparison.

There was a silence within Phillip's mind for several prolonged seconds as Robespierre considered his options. There's not much to say. We were discussing that list my old dog of the aristocracy, that you'd refer to as a master, used to keep of all the people we planned to bring to justice before he was suddenly knocked down to the ground. I told him to activate me or otherwise be killed by our attacker, but he refused and tried to use his own power to stop her. It was a poor decision. He was stabbed and I was taken, at first to be digested by this servant class I hadn't seen before, before being spit back out.

You said you didn't recognize the class?

The sword may have suggested Saber, but the aura it gave off certainly didn't match any that I knew of.

Is there anything else you can tell me?

Just one, a name. Before she stabbed him, she gloated over her kill by telling him to reserve a seat in the afterlife. She was none other than Jeanne D'arc

That's all for now. I need to discuss these findings with the others. With that, Phillip packed the new voice away in his mind, ignoring any further words he may have had for him. He turned towards Marie, Seamus, and Thomas and told them, "I know the servant's name, but not her class. Robespierre claims that they weren't among the eight known to us. However, the servant we're looking for is Joan of Arc."
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Dutifully, Ophelia followed her Anchin, shoving everything that stood in her way aside; blinded by ignored passion that was forced to the surface, unbidden, by Kiyohime's powerful influence. The world that surrounded her presented no challenge, no threat, only nuisances to overcome or bypass with brute, unyielding force. Seamus couldn't escape her, not with Kiyohime's Stalking in full effect; her mind only knew of him, saw him, needed him... it was hell on her thoughts, slowly dissolving her sense of will as she moved forward. Spying him drop into the manhole, she followed without fail...

...and came to see the vastness of the sewer system. It was rivers of sewage, left and right, back and forth... rivers... everywhere... Ophelia trembled, enraged that her Anchin would flee from her, once more, as he did, back then. Across the riverbed. Seeking sanctuary in the temple. "Grrrraaahhh~!" she bellowed, the roar hybridized human and dragon, yet hissing underneath like a den of snake roused in anger. In bursts, Kiyohime's scales began to coat her arms and hands; stealing her fingers and gilding her arms to her elbows in the snow-white, scale keratin.

Into the water, murky and rotten, she plunged, and waded. Seeking, in desperation, old, yet unresolved. Lucius held his silence. If his Empress couldn't overcome her most troublesome first subject, on her own, she would be unable to advance. This was her first, real trial in this war of Servants and Masters...

He had to let her fight on her own here.
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Eventually, Sajan's strategy paid off. The robber exhausted himself attempting to keep up with her unrelenting assault and ended up disengaging from his card and collapsing. The day belonged to her. As he lay there on the ground, she instinctively aimed her kirpan at his neck. It would be effortless to finish him off in this state, and she certainly felt a gnawing urge to hurt him for all the trouble he had given her, not to mention the general monster he had proven to be. However, between the judging gaze of the Guru that she felt on her back, and her own misgivings over executing a defenseless man no matter his crimes, she could not bring herself to do it. Earlier, she had made up her mind to kill him for the sake of saving others. Not only had she ultimately failed to do that, but now there was no way he could rise from this place without someone intervening.

Against her impulses, she gathered both him and his card from the ground. She would hold onto the card for now, but she had serious misgivings about ever trying to tap into it. She could not be certain of its nature, but it had certainly aided and abetted a vicious criminal. Swiftly exiting the burning alley, Sajan brought the man over to her car, which had fortunately escaped fire damage so far. She briefly mused that it would be terribly ironic if he had managed to burn her car with his arrows, as he would have been responsible for killing his comrade, or brother, or whoever he was to him, as he was still inside. Propping him up, she tore a piece of his clothing to bind his wound with. Hopefully, she could at least stop him from bleeding out. She called out to one of the nearby Muninn workers, saying, "Does anybody here know first aid?" With luck, somebody among them might be able to stabilise the man a bit better. Regardless, Sajan phoned the foundation to report in.

"Ms. Miller, I've subdued the target. Where do you want them?" She hadn't been here long enough to become overly familiar with how Muninn dealt with its prisoners. Either way, she would be prepared to deliver these two wretches to whatever awaited them.

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Phillip was the first to approach the man, who's only information he knew of being his title within this suspicious pharmaceutical company. Wanting to appear sophisticated and powerful, the young man held his hands behind his back, straightening his posture as he made his way forward. Every step was slow, matching the speed of a fading heart beat until he was face to face with the man.

It was then that he realized this attitude was most likely the result of the newest class card he had picked up today. Robespierre's influence was trying to seep into his mind and take control, just like its last host. That's what he felt like, more akin to a parasite than a servant. Relaxing his muscles to appear more casual again, Phillip extended his hand toward the director for a friendly shake. "Phillip Sato, sir. Pleased to meet you."
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