Do you perhaps admire my Beautiful visage? that is only to be expected, but the moment it becomes the only thing in your mind is the moment you become trash in my eyes
Lancer
Narcissus: The Scornful Beauty
Gender: Beauty (Male)
Birth and Death Dates: The Age of Gods
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Motivation for the Holy Grail: His wish is a simple one, for the Grail to gift him with that he could never get in life: someone, something, anything, that could match his Beauty.
Personality: An acerbic young man used to dismissing everyone who approached him, for they surely only wished to bed him because of his appearance. When he was alive, Narcissus knew his only outstanding quality was his Beauty and so he didn't try to reach for the sky. He would woke up, go out in a hunt, reject any suitor, sleep, rinse and repeat. He would not bother with the affairs of heroes and they would not bother him, or so he though.
But when summoned as an servant, due to the way his name became irreversibly linked with a certan mental disorder, his personality changes accordingly. Now a boisterous person who thinks of himself as an Heroic Spirit without equal, with unmatched skill and a savant talent for battle. He will use every waking moment to showcase his ability, and search for opponents to test his newfound might.
Like it was to be expected, he is also extremely proud of his natural, unmatched, Beauty, but knowing the way it caused him some large amounts of problems when he was alive, he will try to hide it in a very minimalist way, as to both not deprive the world of this gift but also lower the inconvenience it causes.
Likes: Himself, His reflect, His combat skills, strong-willed people.
Dislikes: People who become enraptured by His appearance, the narcissus family of flowers.
Biography: A man in a land of heroes and legends who's greatest achievement was his beauty, and who's most famous deed was to die because of it. Nothing much can be said about the story of Narcissus, besides, maybe, his incredible gift to verbally put down any and all would be suitors and wooers, no matter who they were, for they couldn't hope to compare to his impossible ideal of beauty.
This gift was his undoing when he scorned the love of a young nymph, resulting in her death, death that lead to a divine retribution. This punishment could be said to be both a curse and a fulfillment of Narcissus wish: at the end, he withered away in a lonely glade, his only companion the reflection of his face on the water. He saw, for the first and last time, the only being in existence that could meet his ideals: himself, and so he died happy, knowing that his life wasn't without any meaning.
As a hunter, he became accustomed to using a bow and arrow, but to be a greek is to known how to use a spear, and so, this time, he was summoned as a Lancer.
Equipment: A standard hoplite spear and shield. Post Summoning, a pair of sunglasses
Parameters
Strength: C
Endurance: C
Agility: B
Mana: C
Luck: E
Class Skills:
Magic Resistance: C
Cancel spells with a chant below two verses. Cannot defend against magecraft on the level of High-Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals. Although he was born at the Age of Gods, Narcissus never fought against any kind of magical phenomenom in life, and as such, the rank of this skill is low.
Personal Skills:
Divinity: C
One's aptitude as a divine spirit. Narcissus was the son of the river god Cephissus and the nymph Liriope, and as such, he qualifies for this skill.
Protection of the Fairies: B
It is a blessing from Elementals; the capacity to increase one's Luck in dangerous situations. Activation is limited to battlefields, where it is possible to perform feats of arms. As a man loved by both her mother, the nymph Liriope, and his most famous of scorned suitors, the oread nymph Echo, Narcissus displays this skill at a high level.
Narcissism: A+++
With time, long after his life and death, Narcissus became known as the basis of a mental disorder with its name. Was he the first ever recorded individual to suffer from it? or was his personality just a scapegoat to base this disorder from? To the eyes of humanity, the answer didn't matter in the slightest, in their mind, the two of them, both the man and the illness became eternally entrenched.
To no surprise, Narcissus attains the highest level possible in this skill. In his case this takes the form of an extreme self-hypnosis: as long as he sees himself as his ideal self; his body, skills and attributes will remain in their idealized form, that is to say, second to none. It's not hard to see that this easily can and will become a loop,as he reinforces his warped view of himself, enforcing the hypnosis for an indefinitive amount of time. It would take a severe change of paradigm for Narcissus to stop seeing himself as the pinacle of Heroic Spirits
Noble Phantasm
True Name: Narcissus Kallisteía
Title: Thy Existence is Beauty Itself
Rank: C
NP Type: Anti-Unit (self)
Range: 0
Maximum Number of Targets: 100
Description: In life, Narcissus could not boast of any divine armament, extraordinary deed or supreme showing of skill, he was just a man in a world of heroes. But to be an Heroic Spirit without a Noble Phantasm that you could call your own is unheard of, and so, he gained one that not only encompassed his myth but his entire life, the crystalization of his Beauty.
In essence, what this Noble Phantasm do is incredible simple. It gives Narcissus the quality of always being "the most Beautiful being" in any given situation. While this indeed sound simple, in actuality the effects of this are anything but.
To be beautiful does not only refer to your physical appearance, for that would just be a superficial beautiness. A man can only experience true Beauty when his actions, his voice, the weapons he wield, even his soul exudes this quality, and Narcissus is the most beautiful of them all.
What would be a no name spear and shield, become works of art ; When he talks, his voice oozes charm on the levels of magecraft ; when he walks, he does it with a grace that doesn't show any wasted movement; even when he fights, what in life would had been a mediocre showing, transform into a spectacle of poise and finesse that would rival the most skillfuls of combatants.
At its peak, this Beauty will become a blessing (curse) on and in itself, those weak willed will become unable to do anything but gaze at Lancer, becoming slaves to their love, while those who don't succumb to his heavenly glamour will, instead, have their souls and spirits purified. With enough exposure to his phenomenon, it wouldn't be wrong to say that an event akin to enlightened can occur. Beauty is not only a quality of the self, but a quality others see in the other, that is reflected back in the self. To try and reach that Beauty is, perhaps, the same as reaching a superior state of being.
This Noble Phantasm also makes the act of "changing" Narcissus to anything not associated with the word Beauty become nigh impossible. It would not be wrong to say that he possesses an absoluteness of the Self. Neither the strongest poison or the most grievous of wounds will change this fact.
Due to the specifics of his legend , Narcissus can only show the full effects of this Noble Phantasm when his face is without any kind of cover.
True Name: Echo Antanáklasi
Title: Even in Death i Will Love You
Rank:B
NP Type: Anti-Unit
Range: 5
Maximum Number of Targets: 1-10
Description: Echo was a nymph cursed by Hera to only be able to talk if it was to repeat the last thing she heard. She then had the added misfortune to fall in love with Narcissus, and, after being being throughoutly rejected by him, she had to see the man she loved slowly dying of thirst and hunger after seeing his reflection on a lake, unable to change his destiny in the slightest. Maybe it was this love, or her paper on his myth that lead to an aspect of her being forever tied to Narcissus even after death.
Upon calling it's true name, an ethereal reflection of Narcissus will appear to fight by his side, perfectly mirroring any and all actions done by him. Normally, fighting alongside another person would require years of practice as to not interfere in the other path, but as this is a identical mimicry of the original, this problem does not occur at all.
Due to this being a crystalization of both the love and the punishment for scorning Echo, using this Noble Phantasm comes with the possible effect of Narcissus stopping in the middle of the fight to gaze at his alluring visage reflected at him, for even he is not inmune to the effects of his own Beauty, for better or for worse.
Do you perhaps admire my Beautiful visage? that is only to be expected, but the moment it becomes the only thing in your mind is the moment you become trash in my eyes
Lancer
Narcissus: The Scornful Beauty
Gender: Beauty (Male)
Birth and Death Dates: The Age of Gods
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Motivation for the Holy Grail: His wish is a simple one, for the Grail to gift him with that he could never get in life: someone, something, anything, that could match his Beauty.
Personality: An acerbic young man used to dismissing everyone who approached him, for they surely only wished to bed him because of his appearance. When he was alive, Narcissus knew his only outstanding quality was his Beauty and so he didn't try to reach for the sky. He would woke up, go out in a hunt, reject any suitor, sleep, rinse and repeat. He would not bother with the affairs of heroes and they would not bother him, or so he though.
But when summoned as an servant, due to the way his name became irreversibly linked with a certan mental disorder, his personality changes accordingly. Now a boisterous person who thinks of himself as an Heroic Spirit without equal, with unmatched skill and a savant talent for battle. He will use every waking moment to showcase his ability, and search for opponents to test his newfound might.
Like it was to be expected, he is also extremely proud of his natural, unmatched, Beauty, but knowing the way it caused him some large amounts of problems when he was alive, he will try to hide it in a very minimalist way, as to both not deprive the world of this gift but also lower the inconvenience it causes.
Likes: Himself, His reflect, His combat skills, strong-willed people.
Dislikes: People who become enraptured by His appearance, the narcissus family of flowers.
Biography: A man in a land of heroes and legends who's greatest achievement was his beauty, and who's most famous deed was to die because of it. Nothing much can be said about the story of Narcissus, besides, maybe, his incredible gift to verbally put down any and all would be suitors and wooers, no matter who they were, for they couldn't hope to compare to his impossible ideal of beauty.
This gift was his undoing when he scorned the love of a young nymph, resulting in her death, death that lead to a divine retribution. This punishment could be said to be both a curse and a fulfillment of Narcissus wish: at the end, he withered away in a lonely glade, his only companion the reflection of his face on the water. He saw, for the first and last time, the only being in existence that could meet his ideals: himself, and so he died happy, knowing that his life wasn't without any meaning.
As a hunter, he became accustomed to using a bow and arrow, but to be a greek is to known how to use a spear, and so, this time, he was summoned as a Lancer.
Equipment: A standard hoplite spear and shield. Post Summoning, a pair of sunglasses
Parameters
Strength: C
Endurance: C
Agility: B
Mana: C
Luck: E
Class Skills:
Magic Resistance: C
Cancel spells with a chant below two verses. Cannot defend against magecraft on the level of High-Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals. Although he was born at the Age of Gods, Narcissus never fought against any kind of magical phenomenom in life, and as such, the rank of this skill is low.
Personal Skills:
Divinity: C
One's aptitude as a divine spirit. Narcissus was the son of the river god Cephissus and the nymph Liriope, and as such, he qualifies for this skill.
Protection of the Fairies: B
It is a blessing from Elementals; the capacity to increase one's Luck in dangerous situations. Activation is limited to battlefields, where it is possible to perform feats of arms. As a man loved by both her mother, the nymph Liriope, and his most famous of scorned suitors, the oread nymph Echo, Narcissus displays this skill at a high level.
Narcissism: A+++
With time, long after his life and death, Narcissus became known as the basis of a mental disorder with its name. Was he the first ever recorded individual to suffer from it? or was his personality just a scapegoat to base this disorder from? To the eyes of humanity, the answer didn't matter in the slightest, in their mind, the two of them, both the man and the illness became eternally entrenched.
To no surprise, Narcissus attains the highest level possible in this skill. In his case this takes the form of an extreme self-hypnosis: as long as he sees himself as his ideal self; his body, skills and attributes will remain in their idealized form, that is to say, second to none. It's not hard to see that this easily can and will become a loop,as he reinforces his warped view of himself, enforcing the hypnosis for an indefinitive amount of time. It would take a severe change of paradigm for Narcissus to stop seeing himself as the pinacle of Heroic Spirits
Noble Phantasm
True Name: Narcissus Kallisteía
Title: Thy Existence is Beauty Itself
Rank: C
NP Type: Anti-Unit (self)
Range: 0
Maximum Number of Targets: 100
Description: In life, Narcissus could not boast of any divine armament, extraordinary deed or supreme showing of skill, he was just a man in a world of heroes. But to be an Heroic Spirit without a Noble Phantasm that you could call your own is unheard of, and so, he gained one that not only encompassed his myth but his entire life, the crystalization of his Beauty.
In essence, what this Noble Phantasm do is incredible simple. It gives Narcissus the quality of always being "the most Beautiful being" in any given situation. While this indeed sound simple, in actuality the effects of this are anything but.
To be beautiful does not only refer to your physical appearance, for that would just be a superficial beautiness. A man can only experience true Beauty when his actions, his voice, the weapons he wield, even his soul exudes this quality, and Narcissus is the most beautiful of them all.
What would be a no name spear and shield, become works of art ; When he talks, his voice oozes charm on the levels of magecraft ; when he walks, he does it with a grace that doesn't show any wasted movement; even when he fights, what in life would had been a mediocre showing, transform into a spectacle of poise and finesse that would rival the most skillfuls of combatants.
At its peak, this Beauty will become a blessing (curse) on and in itself, those weak willed will become unable to do anything but gaze at Lancer, becoming slaves to their love, while those who don't succumb to his heavenly glamour will, instead, have their souls and spirits purified. With enough exposure to his phenomenon, it wouldn't be wrong to say that an event akin to enlightened can occur. Beauty is not only a quality of the self, but a quality others see in the other, that is reflected back in the self. To try and reach that Beauty is, perhaps, the same as reaching a superior state of being.
This Noble Phantasm also makes the act of "changing" Narcissus to anything not associated with the word Beauty become nigh impossible. It would not be wrong to say that he possesses an absoluteness of the Self. Neither the strongest poison or the most grievous of wounds will change this fact.
Due to the specifics of his legend , Narcissus can only show the full effects of this Noble Phantasm when his face is without any kind of cover.
True Name: Echo Antanáklasi
Title: Even in Death i Will Love You
Rank:B
NP Type: Anti-Unit
Range: 5
Maximum Number of Targets: 1-10
Description: Echo was a nymph cursed by Hera to only be able to talk if it was to repeat the last thing she heard. She then had the added misfortune to fall in love with Narcissus, and, after being being throughoutly rejected by him, she had to see the man she loved slowly dying of thirst and hunger after seeing his reflection on a lake, unable to change his destiny in the slightest. Maybe it was this love, or her paper on his myth that lead to an aspect of her being forever tied to Narcissus even after death.
Upon calling it's true name, an ethereal reflection of Narcissus will appear to fight by his side, perfectly mirroring any and all actions done by him. Normally, fighting alongside another person would require years of practice as to not interfere in the other path, but as this is a identical mimicry of the original, this problem does not occur at all.
Due to this being a crystalization of both the love and the punishment for scorning Echo, using this Noble Phantasm comes with the possible effect of Narcissus stopping in the middle of the fight to gaze at his alluring visage reflected at him, for even he is not inmune to the effects of his own Beauty, for better or for worse.
There were few times when your insctint failed you. In your youth that minor noble wasn't going to betray you, but you killed him anyway. When you were traveling around the world to make a name for yourself in your 50s and you found a pair of orphans in Amsterdam, those weren't really just homeless kids, but homunculi, and you had a scar in your chest to always remember them by. The point of the matter is that when you had a gut feeling it wasn't in vain most of the times, but if there was one time you wanted it to be wrong it was today. It wasn't.
A vampire, a creature of the night, a Dead Apostle... whatever you called it, each and every one of those monsters were a league apart from a normal human, magus or not. From the top of your head you could count about 5 people capable of fighting one on equal ground. Sadly for you, the Valueleta and the Barthomeloi didn't see eye to eye in most things to say least, one of those aristocracy loving fools would be very helpful right now. But alas, it is how it is.
“...just learn a little bit more.”
He would call the young man in front of him too cocky and disrespectful...but he wasn't even young to begin with, and he felt that Ahmicqui was oddly honest in his advice, with no traces of bravado in his speech. And he would agree to it if it wasn't for the small details of his gauntlets, at least he knew what he would do tomorrow: a suitcase in Las Vegas? why he surely has money or important papers in it, that's how he planned to bring his equipment everywhere he went now. He couldn't join the fray, but he surely could watch at least the tail of the battle. "Lancer, i think that at this point if you keep at it, this fight would just needlesly escalate, how about we retire from the night? We have a busy day tomorrow after all"
He was late, Kitorai realized, the battle was almost over, both his servant and the red beast had been interrupted it seems, another Servant, without a doubt, was leaving, a simple, yet strangely menacing sword in his hands. The new arrival had the same wild feeling that his servant initial opponent, the same yet different, if the red man was a hunter, then this one was a wild dog.
He waited for Lancer's response while analyzing the state of the battlefield... they really did a number on the park in the small time they fighted, he noticed. To bring this level of destruction with only their physical might...at least he was reassured with the fact that his Servant was no pushover, from what he could briefly see no side was victorious in this little skirmish, truly, this was a mere show of power.
He could see Ahmicqui a little further, and he felt like a fool for ever doubting that that thing was not a human for even a moment, in this place a little far away of the lights of the city, with the moon being the prominent source of light, Kitorai saw the real side of the Dead Apostle, and he had no shame in admitting he had a little fear, but that same fear was what kept him on guard against anything that could bring his old life to a premature end.
If Kitorai felt shame for being carried like a child by the younger man he didn't show it in his face, firstly because when you begin to grow old you tend to let small things like this pass. If he still was the Head of his house he would have to struck down the man carrying him inmediately, but he wasn't, and secondly because, honestly, this was too novel of an experience. Sure he flied on on planes before, but that wasn't comparable at all to what was happening now.
They were practically flying, jumping from roof to roof like it was nothing. Sure he could try to do it with his armour reinforced to the maximum and he was sure the effect would be similar...but Ahmicqui was doing without any mystic code, and maybe even without any magecraft. There a few type of people he knew could do this, like the top dogs of the Church or some species of half-breeds, but there was one other hypothesis that could be the answer, and if it was THAT, then he was correct in being cautious about the man.
Las Vegas Strip -> Spring Valley Community Park
After some minutes that stretched for an eternity in Kitorai mind, they arrived. In that intervail he had time to think about the question directed at him earlier. He could lie or give a non commital answer, but he felt the man in front of him deserved the truth.
"After such an splendid ride i feel obligated to answer your question truthfully. What drove me to renounce to a life of comodity and participate in a war that may as well end my life? the answer it's all the examples you named and more. Yes, i have greed, greed for something more important than money or material things, i have an ambition, a NEED for my name, my own name, not that of my family, to be remembered, to be celebrated decades, even centuries after my death. And so i created something that will make my dream come true, and this was the battlefield where i chose to test my creation... but i guess one such as you couldn't relate to this feeling, you... you aren't as young as you look don't you?
Kitorai body was tensed, prepared to defend himself if his opponent tried anything, yet didn't show any aggresion. This was not a favourable position for him, a fight was not what he was looking for, not yet at least. He was only waiting for what the other party would say.
The crowd started to scatter, devoid of their entertainment, going back to their ordinary life but unbeknownst to them, in the middle of Las Vegas, two masters met face to face for the first time.
If Kitorai instincts were flaring up before, once the man in front of him raised his sunglasses they were going to overdrive. He had some suspicions, after all, it was not strange for magus to modify their bodies for the sake of their magecraft... but he had a feeling there was something else in play here, and if he was right then he was in an extremely dangerous position.
Foolish of him to not bring his gauntlets, not expecting an altercation like this to happen so soon, but no use crying over spit milk,he still had the protection for his body and legs, so he would just have to improvise, and if that means going along with the man currently talking to him so be it. And so he corrected his posture, he had an inkling it was no use to play the rambunctious old man in this moment, reinforced his body and prepared for anything.
"One do not reach my age without a little cautioness, even more so if you still don't know all the pieces on the board and you are an unknown to me, so yes, i am wary of you"
He reached for his hand (clink clink), but instead of taking it, he grabbed the outer part of the man's forearm, in a strong but not overbearing grip.
"Do ask your question, but forgive an old man for exercising a little of the aforementioned cautioness, i hope you don't mind asking one of my own afterwards though."
So this is a battle between servants...they are truly deserving of being called heroic spirits.
Their battle was fast, very fast, each blow was answered by a counter, followed by a feint that led to another strike that is answered once again, all this in a matter of seconds. Kitorai wasn't ashamed to say that he almost lost sight of the skirmish. But he wasn't a master of reinforcement for nothing, and while his specialization resided in the use of it in objects, one do not learn a trick or two at his age.
He switched his magic circuits on, the ever present image of a statue being erected in his mind, and reinforced what few dared: his brain, more precisely, the "speed" in which his brain processed the perceived information through his eyes. Now it was better, much better. The two servants were truly master of their craft, trading punches and reversing grabs like it was nothing. He wouldn't have a chance against these monsters alone...but he wasn't alone, he weared his dreams and hopes in his body, he was sure that with it he would lean the scale in his favour, he HAD to be sure.
And then, the two of them began to separate from the crowd, slow enough not to raise awareness, but he knew through the link between master and servant that he, and probably his opponent, started to ramp up their speed considerably once they were out of sight
There was a brief lull in the street. Kitorai observed the enemy master... he didn't know why but the way he just smiled throughout all that set him on edge, but for now it seemed he just contented himself to just smile and watch.
"GAHAHA! what a foolish attendant i have, drinking a little and wanting to start a fight with the first punk that crossed his way! I better go see if he doesn't trip with a branch or something, i swear that boy always looking for trouble!
With the amount of people present, he couldn't hypnotize them all to forget this incident, and even if he sended some of his employees to do it, by the time the deed was done they would have already talked, so he tried to pass it off as just two drunkards figthing for this or that, not a strange sight in this city...and besides it wasn't too bad, more likely than not this incident would just be forgotten in some days if his hunch was correct and the servants destroyed some other place devoid of people in their fight, that would be more of an interesting gossip after all.
And so, before he started to follow his servant, he spared a last glance to the smiling enemy master, his human survival instinct telling him to not lose him out of sight, prepared for anything he would try.
The first time he saw his servant Kitorai inmediately knew he was special, a beatiful, lithe, otherwordly man that oozed confidence in a somehow elegant kind of manner.
The man in front of him was the total antithesis of that. The only similarity between them was the confidence they both exuded. But while Lancer did it in a calm, detached way, the enemy servant instead,because he had to be one, it was the only way to explain the sheer presence he had, showed it with every motion of his body.
The first thing he noticed was the red, how could he not? Red hair, from head to toes, covered most of his body. A red beast eyed them like prey. Every movement, every step denoted the strenght in his body, every sentence stained with the promise of bloodshed. Kitorai mind was racing. Maybe a primitive instinct activated in his brain. "This man was dangerous", it said. But even in a moment like this he was analyzing the situation. Caster and Assassin were obviously out, That left Rider, Saber, Archer or Berserker...and from looks alone hed bet on the last option. But appearances could be deceiving, he knew that, to fall for such a trap would be hypocrite of him.
“Hey, there. You’ve come to fight, right?”
The red man said after raising an arm to the air. Kitorai suspected that he was the one responsable for the state of that tower. He didn't have any proof, but it hardly mattered anyway.
Then, from behind the red man, another one appeared. This more similar to his own servant, less savage looking. A white and green haired man with bronze skin and a shirt of many colours, animals, Kitorai mind added as an afterthough.
“Oh ho? Hello there.. Hello to you. On a beautiful night do we meet, the most auspicious of signs is it not..”
A soft yet strong voice that, for some reasons, sent shivers down his spine. Kitorai was an old man, and in his long life he saw a lot of things, yet few made him feel what the man in front of him currently did. If the servant was a hunter of beasts, then, the master, he felt, was a hunter of men. The same instinctive voice in his brain warned him again "this man is dangerous". It repeated.
Then his servant, faithfully maintaning his paper, after a few words to him and to the man in red, before he could say anything, sprinted so fast that Kitorai, who was standing right besides him, could feel the slight shockwaves this charge forward generated, without a doubt aiming for the enemy.
Kitorai knew that what it seemed like a fairly inoffensive brawl could turn into an event that broke the rules of his world. He could not permit that. And so he tried his best to steer this away from the crowd already gathering to see the spectacle.
"Dammit you foolish boy, don't do this in front of so many people! if someone recognizes me my reputation would shatter! You're going to give this old man a heart attack!"
"Gahaha! don't be fooled boy, all this shine and glitter just a facade for the crap underneath: drugs, alcohol and rampant gambling; i wouldn't bring my granddaughter here in a million years" language aside, Kitorai really believed what he said, call him old mannered but to him this really was a den of debauchery.
From the little he saw on the way here, he wouldn't care a little bit if any of these dozens and dozens of people milling about, some euphoric for their luck, others damning it, died as the result of the inminent war about to happen. They were utterly unimportant to him. As long as it didn't endanger the secrecy of the magus world, everything was permitted in his mind. He hoped his servant shared this opinion, after all, in the middle of a battle you should only care about the opponent in front of you.
"Mmhm?" His servant interrupted his thoughs. "Now they don't even care to mantain their cheap forgeries? Let me tell you, in my days that would get a lot of people fired!." Contrary to his reaction, Kitorai mind was cold: even from here he could see the unnatural shape of the bent. This was not an accident... an invitation to conflict? If the answer was yes, then it would seem someone was eager to get this started, to show a fraction of their power in such brazen way they would have to be.
"Bah! don't treat me like i'm made of glass" he showed a token amount of effort in trying to pry the hand on his shoulder off (clink clink). "these bones may be old but they are not fragile!" he puffed his chest, as if trying to show he was telling the truth(clink clink). "if i were to tell you all the things they experienced oh boy, we would be here for a long time!... but you are right, i AM thirsty, a little drink wouldn't hurt, just don't go crying to mama when i drink you under the table"
As they were walking towards their destination, Kitorai said something, almost as an afterthough, in the same tone he talked all night long, but he expected his Servant to know the real meaning behind it. "Oh! and tell me if you see any shady characters, an old man like me and a pretty boy like you would attract pickpockets and crooks like moths to a flame, i tell you, they have no respect for hard earned money nowadays!
