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[center][h2][i]Enkryption[/i] & [i]The Irish Tree[/i] Collaboration[/h2][/center]

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	Virgil snorted, as the de facto leader of the group before him spoke. “[color=a187be]And, what,[/color]” he asks, as he sheathed his tanto into his right forearm sheath, “[color=a187be]we're just supposed to fall in line; be good, little soldiers?[/color]” Virgil's eyes hardened, as hatred swelled around him; corrupting his effeminately beauty with explicit masculinity. “[color=a187be]How dare you.[/color]” A statement, not a question. “[color=a187be]How dare you even think.[/color]” A rhetorical repeat, not a question, either. “[color=a187be]Do you honestly believe you can command an Empress,[/color]” Virgil asks, “[color=a187be]as lowly among the gallows as you are?[/color]” Virgil clasped his hands, and gave them firm shake; unclasping them to reveal a quintet of three-inch tall bottles and a large egg-sized silver ball. “[color=a187be]Potassium nitrate. Soluble carbohydrates. Sodium bicarbonate. Sulfur. Charcoal. Aluminum foil,[/color]” Virgil looked at Makoto, “[color=a187be]Tell me, Caster-keeper, what could be made of these?[/color]”


[color=1ABFD6][b]“A smoke bomb.”[/b][/color] Makoto said plainly, looking at Virgil with a wry look in his eye. [color=1ABFD6][b]“So...why NOT help them out anyways? You really have anything better to do with super powers?”[/b][/color] he asked, his fingers netted behind his head, palms pressed against the back of his head. It wasn’t any of his concern whether the assassin-card-holder joined up with them, but he figured he might as well see whether he’d be more likely to become an enemy or an ally later down the line. After all...he had to assume Ratatoskr wouldn’t be happy about a card holder being allowed to run free.

	Virgil smirked, as the bottles and the foil fell into a swirl of Mana in his palms, and in a burst of light became a handful of alchemized pellets in a jar of glass. “[color=a187be]Do I? Do you? Does anyone? As smart of your Servant must be, it’s burdened by your utter lack of empirical oversight,[/color]” he says, bouncing the jar. “[color=a187be]Do you think anyone would simply bow to the request of a stranger? Are we dogs? Do we roll when order, present our bellies to foreign sword, and close our eyes in ignorance?[/color]” Virgil hefted the jar into the air, “[color=a187be]I am no dog. I am a wolf. An Alpha.[/color]”

Makoto just put his hands in his pockets and walked away. ...This guy was a douche. No doubt about it. Still, maybe he’d have to work with him sometime. He seemed more independant rather than hostile...and running alone ran you head first into problems. He hadn’t expected him to be an alchemist...and boy, did Zosimos have trash to talk about his technique and word choice, but Makoto just strolled away, tapping the Zappy Gloves Ratatoskr agent on the shoulder. [color=1ABFD6][b]”Don’t bother. Let’s just get going, ‘kay?”[/b][/color] he said, seeming not all that bummed out about Virgil not wanting to join. In fact...thinking about it, he just might try and work with him after this Ratatoskr business blows over. Not like he had a formal contract drawn up or anything. Just some people asking him to help save the world...because, reasons, he supposed.

	Virgil squatted, as the jar crashed into the ground; a massive cloud of smoke billowing into the air. He inhaled, and drew whatever power he’d left to spare. “[color=a187be]Install, Assassin,[/color]” he said. “[color=a187be][i][b]A shadow swoops low... Shifts silently among the reeds... A crane strikes unseen...[/b][/i][/color]” he envisioned the battlefield, stretching to the horizon itself, and slung his spear into the air. Overcast, the sky became, before the ethereal weapons rained down, and the smoke spread thin.

Neither Assassin nor Berserker remaining.

	Makoto watched the spear fly away, but lost track of it amidst all the others that followed. Walking back to the gym, he figured it was about time to go anyways. Strolling off, he seemed like he couldn’t care less about the two that had just up and left. He didn't make enemies with them, at least. So, future options existed in case Ratatoskr didn’t work out. Putting his eager smile on once again, Makoto went back into the gym through the hole Flamma made slamming him into the wall, and waved at Maria. [color=1ABFD6][b]“The Assassin and Berserker holders left, Ms. Hotsuin!”[/b][/color] he said. Now...to negotiate pay. And maybe even a workshop space.