“To think, that this ambrosia would spread even to the far reaches of the East…” Markansas pondered, staring at the open cardboard box in front of him.

“The land of the rising sun even thrust its own mascot on the brand,” He said, stroking a gloved hand across the small cheese-kun plushie that he had picked up at the restaurant, squeezed underarm. In his other hand, he held a glass of wine ordered from the same restaurant, which he sipped intermittently. 

“The topping of [i]sin[/i] makes a pizza so delicious… Would that the flames of perdition left it warm for longer.” When he’d placed the box down, there had still been a thin steam rising from it, but that had now disappeared entirely. 

As he picked up a slice of pizza, his gloves began to soak in the grease of the cheese. A glob of tomato sauce dropped onto his extravagant cravat. 

“Oh for fuck’s-” 

[centre][img]https://gbf.wiki/images/5/54/Npc_m_3040219000_01.jpg[/img]
[b][h2]Markansas Valdark Reschyshyn
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kTBbTSjZpI]Avatar of Ruin[/url][/h2]
[h3]A lonely graveyard: Hilltop Church[/h3][/b][/centre]

Markansas licked at the scarf inelegantly, dabbing away the sauce with his tongue. Finishing up, he looked back towards his Servant. “If you require sustenance, devour to your heart’s content. The toppings are bacon, asparagus, and bolgolgi…”

Naturally, he had summoned an excellent servant. A name that resonated around the world. A name that had unleashed a blighted curse upon the world when unearthed.

Well, in truth he was a little worried that that sort of character would be a little too much for him, so it was probably good that it was just a kid, after all.

“So, it’s time to begin-” With poor timing, Markansas took another bite of the pizza, chomping down on his own words. “Begin this festival of pandemonium.” As he finished the slice, he leaned against a nearby grave, placing his palm near his face in a strange pose. At his instructions, the nearby puppet, dressed identically to him but for the mask covering its demonic face, picked up the box of cold pizza. 

“It’s simply a matter of selecting our first targets.” He took an elegant, if small, sip of wine. “Unfortunately, my dark eyes of the abyss have been unable to glimpse any opponents. Yes, it’s unfortunate indeed. But a good opportunity for you to prove your worth as the right hand of the king of infinite hells.”

Despite his grandiose speech, it seemed the magus was at a loss as for what exactly to do after eating pizza in a graveyard, and looking to his Servant for advice. Whether the pharoah realised this or not, Markansas was not the type to talk directly. 

[@Yankee]