I'Rajith enjoyed introductions, dull as many seemed to consider them. The names of new people tended to be, with only a few exceptions, always new information for him. Those that had lived before could not whisper the names of those that came long after them - and so, if only in one regard, the Noctem could consider himself wiser than his elders.
And yet, when it came his time to introduce himself, he acted every bit an awkward youth. He leaned his weight on one awkwardly long leg, so far down that it cracked audibly as if threatening to give way, and rubbed his neck with elongated fingers. He hadn't realized their group would be so big. It almost felt as though he was on stage once more, except there was no music to lose himself to.
And while a performer ought not to look too closely at the individuals in his audience, I'Rajith wanted to study his companions at length. From the behemoth with mighty claws to the knights and knights-to-be, to the two he'd met at the library to a zephyrite whose shifting form was almost mesmerizing. Then there was one of his own kin - a sight perhaps more uncommon to him than one might assume.
"I have met but a few of you before," his tone, ever stable, didn't give away his nervousness, but the way his gaze refused to land on anyone's face did. "You may call me I'Rajith. I know a great many things. Of magic, mostly, though my blade can dance as needed."
Much like U'Nunlo, and perhaps in an attempt to emulate them, I'Rajith bent his body into an unnaturally deep bow.
It begun as a tug at the edge of his consciousness, then turned into a pull, a demand, a wish for his existence in a time far removed from his own. Another war it was, then. But this time, would there be a---
Saber found himself materializing into a well-furnished living room; an area for relaxation, as it were. The irony. To think that a war would start from such a cozy place... he could only hope that in between clashes of steel and magic, he'd be afforded moments of peace as well. He and his-- ah, yes.
The king looked around the room in search for another, eager, wary, curious; all things, all at once. Memories swirled in his head of a master long past, and the sight of golden locks stunned him in place for a moment. But then he saw the fiery eyes that burned with unfamiliar ambition, and caught the look of discontent reflected in them. She spoke before he could, seemingly disappointed at the sight of him - despite knowing who he was. Now that was... certainly a first.
Saber chuckled, even if the mention of his sister made him uneasy. It stirred another memory, another act that he wished to leave forgotten. But far be it from a knight to let such personal matters mar his smile, much less in the presence of his Master.
"I'm afraid you will have to settle for me," he sounded more amused than insulted, pressing a hand to his chest and offering the slightest of bows. "I would not turn down tea - or your name, Master."
Mari only dared lower her arms once everything had settled. The sounds, the lights, the swirl of magic all around the room. A bedroom, to be precise; small, quaint and in an awful state of disarray. It had been messy far before she had turned it into a summoning ground, and the powerful magic that had filled it a moment prior hadn't exactly helped matters. Pieces of paper still floated down from the ceiling like giant flakes of snow, and she was pretty sure most of her makeup was broken beyond repair. Why, oh why, had she left the powder on the table again?!
"H-hello?" She called out into the darkness. The lights had broken in the summoning process, and the closed curtains didn't let much natural light filter through. She saw a figure, she supposed, but it was difficult to make out the details. Or maybe she was just imagining seeing anything at all. "I'm-- I'm Mari. Hello! I'm your Master, nice to meet you!"
Her brows furrowed, and her voice lowered into a quiet mumble to herself. "Hm, why do they call us masters, anyway? Like, it's kind of a weird term... and shouldn't it be a mistress? Who came up with this stuff?"
At precisely 7 AM, the office doors flung wide open. The heavy click of heels filled an otherwise quiet office corridor, turning the heads of any worker still waffling about over their morning coffees. Some bowed their heads, some scrambled away to their desks and an unfortunate, dumb few approached Ayumi with a greeting.
The first was a middle-aged man, holding his oversized glasses in place with one hand, grasping a cup of coffee with the other. "Good morning, Murata-san!" His grip on the glasses gave way for a wave, and they immediately slipped off his face.
Ayumi caught them mid-fall and slapped them back on with more force than was necessary. Honestly, Sato would have dropped his entire head if it weren't attached to his spine. "If you've time to run your mouth, I assume your report is finished?"
He was taken aback, about to answer, but she was faster. "Clean those glasses and get to work."
She managed to take but a few dozen steps more before a man in his twenties sauntered closer. His gnarly blue suit was two sizes too big, and his fingers glimmered with fake diamonds. It seemed as though Maeda's fashion sense grew worse every passing day. "Ah, Murata-san~ how is your morning?"
In one quick motion, Ayumi pulled out a stack of papers from her suitcase and pushed them into his chest. "Awful. These need to be on Takayama's desk in five minutes, signed and stamped. Do your job on time, and hopefully we will both have a better morning tomorrow."
Just a few more corners, and she'd be at the break room. Coffee first, then she'd find Hanazawa and show him what a true demon was. The man had dared ignore her calls the whole morning, and there was no excuse hefty enough for such behaviour. Well... perhaps death. If he was dead, she'd forgive him.
Ayumi whirled around, eyes narrowed into slits at the umpteenth interruption. As her gaze fell on a young, startled woman however, her expression softened somewhat. The intern. She had half the pay of her senpai, but twice the work morale. "Takayama. Good morning. I trust you've been unbothered today?"
She bowed, hugging a pile of papers to her chest. "Y-yes, he didn't approach me this morning. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him."
And you never will again, Ayumi knew. She'd made sure of it. "And the reimbursement I wanted?"
"Done. I sent the copy to Shimada-san just in case."
"Good." Ayumi turned on her heel and continued on her way. She'd had way too many conversations before her morning coffee. At the very least, she didn't need to worry about making some; someone always made sure a nice cup was waiting for her in the break room. Black, no sugar, just the way she wanted.
Ayumi should have known the day was going to be awful the second she'd poured stale coffee down her throat. But as she watched Hanazawa walk into the conference room daring to be alive, she was about ready to go for his throat. Worse, he was accompanied by an unknown man - when there shouldn't have been a soul within these walls Ayumi didn't know by name. And were those horns on Hanazawa's head? Had he started taking accessorizing advice from Maeda?
Then came the real news, and Ayumi crushed the coffee container in her hand with a splat. The Taishi Corporation had been... what?! Why hadn't she heard of this before? The Goe Group? What manner of group was that?! They were instructed to direct any further questions to Hanazawa and oh, Ayumi would. She would. But first, to ensure no one lost their life, she needed coffee. The proper kind.
Without a word, Ayumi stood up from her seat and started to make her way to the break room. The click of her heels filled the corridors once more, this time even louder.