[center][h2][color=darkviolet][i]Archer - Semiramis[/i][/color][/h2][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/51fc61ac770a524e9468f174afa94d7f/tumblr_inline_n1xc79Kcic1rb3m8r.png[/img][/center]

There was a demon on the base, and it was a horror they had invited in. [i]She[/i] walked their halls clad in regalia of ebon silk, layered plates and gleaming horns, the gait of monarch among the peasants marking her passage as she favored one and all with a disarming smile from beneath the lip of her hood. Rather then be met with terror or the veneer of cold professionalism, those she passed responded in kind, there eyes glazing with unabashed reverence in her passing. If she so desired she could have stopped the surliest NCO, man or woman, and had them at her leisure.

But such distractions, while fun, where hardly anything to be called fulfilling. There was certainly none of either to be had with what had constituted as her [i]Master[/i], one who had no agency and existed solely as the cog of another's scheme. This meant she herself was one such machine toiling for another's benefit. It wasn't an unfamiliar position, as what was the governance of a nation but the conspiracy of one's benefit over the advancement of their neighbors? She could understand, and she could even applaud Thomas' foresight in summoning her, but he would have come to regret leaving her idle were it not for his sudden need for her. 

Before her came to be a door, the ring of her grieves turning mum as she considered it and the man there beyond. She'd seen him in passing, glances taken of the man whose command dominated this base and whose ambitions encompassed the whole of the Grail War and beyond.  They may not have entirely been his own ambitions to start with, but it was plain to see the lengths he would go were only limited by the means at his disposal. A disposition that brought a pleased upwards curved to her lips.

[color=darkviolet]"I believe you called for a Plan B."[/color] Semiramis, Queen of Assyria and the Servant Archer, declared in a playfully coy fashion as she entered the Free Mason's office. With arms crossed beneath her chest she crossed the distance and sat on the corner of his desk, making every effort to be comfortable and bemused in the face of such a stolid Master. [color=darkviolet]"Though if you're going to be my Master, perhaps you could refer to me by a more complimentary title. I'd settle for Archer if you insist on formality."[/color]