[center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/6780d70991c2c395d97399e21db9999c.png[/img] [h3][color=fff79a]Ibaraki Douji[/color][/h3] [i]Rashoumon no Oni[/i] [i]Miyama, on patrol[/i] [@Paradox Witch][/center] What came next was a most underhanded union of oni and magus -- for one hate-filled technique to meet another, meshing together into a putrid mess of power. But that was all boring stuff which nobody really wanted to hear about. With her part in aiding her Master’s research done, she left him to his fun, turning instead to the city which surrounded her, leaving as a spirit. A welcome break from the young man, once the accordion got involved he became a degree more intolerable than he already was. With the sun still high, she began her search for the targets. It was not time to take lives, but to learn about them instead. And so she took to the roofing of the town, her form shifting. She held a body for minutes at a time, changing to another at snap of a finger. With the passing of the sun through the sky, wandered the area known as ‘Miyama’ to the locals, the eastern region of the place called ‘Fuyuki’. She saw much, Master and Servant alike going about their initial activities. For some, she even stood beside them. Her better wisdom told her to avoid a certain mansion, but the one belonging to a ‘Tohsaka’ did little to sway her brazen information gathering. A pair of foreigners, the Whitehall's her own Master had informed her. But then there was one. A foreign Servant who, by all rights, she should not have been able to recognize on sight. The sight alone was enough to remind her of the Minamoto. The presence of a ‘human’ hero, true and pure. She did not get too close to that one. The flood of information that came with the sight of his armor was enough to stop her from sniffing around too long. But more importantly was the Servant who resided within the Temple. ‘Ruler’, she had overheard. Really, it was a productive venture. She returned to her Master’s workshop satisfied with her work, making sure to leave the alchemist to his work. She rewarded herself with silence, huddling away in a corner and enjoying the smoke and quiet. The Assassin was a much easier to please creature, compared to her Berserker self. The sun was setting on the town when she emerged from her new base of operations, feet planted firmly on the roof of one of the many, relatively new, buildings that appeared to be littering the region, the signs of a land bustling with fortune and pride. One arm folded across her chest, hand held in place by her other, the hand of which held her pipe loosely off to the side of her lips, she appraised the state of the Japan before her, just in time to see the streaks of light breaking through the sky, catching her attention for the few moments they brightened up the sky. A suitable greeting for her return. Although not a king, she was an existence on par with -- if not outright exceeding -- such a position. But, of course, she was not so full of herself as to think it was for her in particular. Any fool with half a brain could have figured out that such a brazen display, seemingly without much meaning, was an announcement. One which she took as a gift. Taking off with a crack of tile beneath her, she repositioned, a bundle of yellow rags darting through the air, enjoying its newfound body for but a few seconds before shifting. A girl turned to a woman, face dressed in graceful makeup, her hair turning a radiant blonde to black. The beautiful woman became an old man garbed in the armor of a warrior, his face locked in a rictus of terror, his eyes hollowed out. The living corpse became a humble yamamayu, its body inked in the signature colours of her true form, a decadent gold lined with a vibrant vermillion. The king of oni settled herself into such a body with ease, the motion of bone and flesh shaping into a different species as natural to her as breathing. Small, a mere insect to be swat aside, she flew, and began her scouting, starting with… A man standing alone on a bridge. Despite over eight centuries passing since her time as the ruler of Mount Ooe, humanity still feared the dark, heading to their dwellings to cower. So, naturally, spotting the lone man with what appeared to be the Mark of a Master on the back of his hand was not a difficult task. As was killing him. Garbed in the form of a monk, she withdrew her hand from the man’s back, and then withdrew once more into the shadows. It happened as quickly as one might expect an assassination to. One moment he was standing there, proud of himself for his delusional stature, the next there was a hole through his heart, the only hint of a person having done it being the briefest appearance of a temple monk with a lotus flower held in his right hand just before it happened. Hand washed in the river leading out to sea, off and away, hiding her presence every step of the way, Ibaraki Douji was fully aware that the man was a fake, even before killing him. She returned to Miyama, intent on gathering more information. If someone was stupid enough to meaninglessly plant fake Masters, then there was no telling what other absurdity the other actors would get up to. Rather than participate, she would watch. But really, the killing of the fake Master was done more out of frustration than any tactical guile. What a pointless maneuver, one which would not even reveal the capabilities of a Saber, let alone an Assassin. Perched once more on the low roofing of Miyama, observing the human world, Ibaraki Douji tutted. [color=fff79a]“Tch.”[/color] --- [center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/5f31dd59d26c08531fc7e3dc9239ce33.png[/img] [h3][color=9e0b0f]Ana Einnashe[/color][/h3] [i]The Youthful, Ganymedean and Odd Heir of the Lonely Forest Family[/i] [i]Einnashe Workshop ‘Lucus’, Fuyuki Outskirts[/i] [@Froppy][/center] Anaxstolas was not alright. But then, rather suddenly, he was. Shooting up from his face-down, butt-up position, the boy made finger guns in the direction where his Servant was before he was knocked out by consuming the vile alcoholic spew that was Shuten’s drink of choice. [color=9e0b0f]“I’m totally fine!”[/color] Several hours late. It was even dark. Then he looked behind him to where Shuten actually was, thrown off his back from his sudden rising. He blinked a few times, putting the two legos together in his very large and very powerful brain. [color=9e0b0f]“Ah. Awawawa…” [/color] The fluffy-haired boy waved his hands about. [color=9e0b0f]“Sorry, sorry! My processing was purely focused on balancing my bodies chemical responses to the stuff I drank! It was really hard, it felt like I was gonna die! So I stopped paying attention to outside stimuli.” [/color] [color=9e0b0f]“...Which is why I kind of just fell over onto my face. Yeah.”[/color] He’d go with that. It wasn’t because he was fifteen and a lightweight. That was his story, he was sticking to it, and he goddamn liked it. He beamed at Shuten for a moment, then rolled onto his back and hands, shooting himself back onto his feet in a display of minor athleticism. He offered a hand out to Berserker, the Command Seals on display to her [color=9e0b0f]“Sorry, sorry! I wasted the whole day! We could have been doing other stuff, like visiting the town and getting food. But, we’ve still got time to do stuff! I’m open for suggestions too! I’m not really in this to do all that boring cup fight stuff, so hit me with your best ideas, Berserker!”[/color] He was a very genuine young man, if nothing else. His voice carried an utmost honesty, unwilling to conceal emotions and reactions behind any artificial facades. Ana was more than capable of constructing actual mental blocks which stopped him visibly reacting to things, anyway. Strangely enough, the Workshop had continued to grow, even when left to its own devices.