[centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/hPQTsQR.jpg[/img]
[h3]Constantine Cosmo
Penthouse Suite, Grand Bleu Hotel, Shinto Town[/h3][/centre]
[hr]

Constantine watched the summoning without much fanfare. This sort of thing wasn’t exactly routine, but it wasn’t really novel now either. He was used to these kinds of small pranks, in any case. 

“Yeah, nearly died of fright, pipsqueak,” Constantine spoke, his voice completely flat. It was best to let her get it out of her system, at least for a moment.

“This place isn’t mine. I kicked the last guy out,” He said, glancing towards the window for just a moment. “I don’t go in for this kind of luxury. Makes you soft, at least if that loser was any indication.” He paused, and sniffed the air. “Plus, he might have left some kinda trap here, so I’m not sticking around for long.” He didn’t turn to move, though, instead squatting across from his Assassin’s relaxed form. 

“Well, you can kill as much as you want, but I’m not here to win. Who needs a cup anyway? I can drink just as well with my hands.” It was a simple and blunt statement to dismiss the value of a device that could grant wishes. Was that simplicity stupidity, or did it make him smarter than the others who dashed themselves against that flame that drew them here?

Giving a smirk, he continued. “I’m just here to meet heroes. Unfortunately, I got stuck with you again,” he said, casually insulting the Servant to her face. “Still, maybe it’s for the best. Those guys are pretty human, so they can get quite temperamental. You Assassin types are a lot more practical, even if you’re nothing more than wraiths that discarded your humanity.”

He let the insult hang in the air for a moment, completely unconcerned about the threat the Assassin could pose - and then, clapped his hands together suddenly and burst into a grin. “Well, that’s all I have to say about that. Cup’s yours, if you can get it. I’ll help if I feel like it.” With that, he rose and strode from the room, either expecting the Servant to follow or completely uncaring. 

At the door, he stopped for a moment, and turned back. “Oh, by the way, I don’t speak Japanese. If it comes down to it, I might need you to translate.” At the last bit, he sounded almost embarrassed.  

[@Duoya]

[hr]
[centre][img]https://i.imgur.com/qh2cX8o.jpg[/img]
[h3]Tohsaka Residence, Miyama District[/h3][/centre]
[hr]

Cyrene surveyed the room, watching as the last few sheep she’d set to work finished. Well, sheep were pretty limited in the work they could do, but they tried their best. 

“[color=baaaaa]This is entirely serviceable. Though I have to ask, is it even necessary to seek an alliance? I’m sure we can manage this entirely by ourselves.[/color]” Her voice was calm and confident, without the bite of arrogance. It seemed she simply believed in herself that much. 

She appeared entirely regal, clothed in fine robes. Her posture was elegant except for the single sheep that she clutched to herself with arms crossed, like a schoolchild with a plush toy. It somewhat ruined the image. 

“[color=orange]Naturally, my darling is used to conflicts of hero against monster, duels where the light of humanity can shine…[/color]” A voice came from the sheep that Cyrene was holding. It was deep and soothing, with a bleating tone to it. “[color=orange]A clash between heroes is more akin to the war against Troy; a battlefield of nothing more than dirt and tragedy. Yes, the difference between the two is as night and day…[/color]”

Lancer’s eye twitched a little, and her grip on the sheep grew in strength, distorting the ball of wool. “[color=baaaaa]And who exactly asked for your opinion, Apollo?[/color]” Her serene voice didn’t change in tone one bit, but a cold atmosphere suddenly grew across the room. It seemed there was some marital tension between the pair. 

[@Syndrome]