To Summon a King [FINISHED]

[Veronica Barthomeloi]

Despite the chaos brewing outside the heavily reinforced walls of the Barthomeloi manor, the residents remained as calm and collected as ever. A new grail war was on it's way, and the war it would bring would shake the very foundations of their structure. Yet, the Barthomeloi lifestyle continued as it normally would. It had always been a reclusive family, constantly keeping away from the affairs of the wars. It would bring great dishonor to the family should one of their magus die in such conflict. Or maybe, the Barthomeloi family was so wealthy and successful it's members had no need for wishes. These concepts were lost on Veronica. Ironic, since she was the planed representative of this prestigious family. Silently, she blames the strange chain of command this family had created. In her mind, the Barthomeloi were too strongly rooted in old traditions, or maybe the lavish lifestyle failed to spoil her. Although, between her constant stream of lessons, sometimes Veronica questioned if she really lived in the lap of luxury. In all honesty, the wealth of the Barthomeloi didn't compare to what she really wanted.

The night was brewing, clouds scattered across the sky. The courtyard of the manor was lit in the pale, but faint glow of a full moon. Despite it's average appearance, this night was of vital importance. Especially for the young, but powerful, magi who stood with the strength and determination of any Barthomeloi before her. Veronica scowls, her walk slow but with powerful strides. Her posture resembling a predator, ready to strike against any creature that would dare to stand in her way. Her soft blue eyes harden, focusing on the shadow of a figure that enters through the high security gates. She had never felt this tense before, nor had she ever been hesitant. Yet, this was enough to drive any man to the brink of insanity. This game of wait would be the death of her. If it didn't, then it might be the ritual that kills her....Great.

She approaches the figure, her hand outstretched. “I...assume you retrieved what I wished?” The figure pulls the hood back, relieving the face of one of the many staff members posted around the manor. Except, this man was far from typical. This man was Veronica's only contact beyond the walls of this manor. He nods, seeming far more confident in this then she was. Well, of course he was, he didn't even know what she was doing. Quickly, Veronica pushes his payment into his greedy hands. The magi steps back, grasping a thin cloth sack. It was heavy, and she detects the clicking of the contents. Good.

Giving a faint nod to the employee, Veronica finds herself opening the doors to the manor, entering her home for what would be, hopefully, the last time for a long while. As expected, she's confronted by the security, a magi bodyguard. He was one in a million, but notices her.

“Ma'am. What are you doing outside the halls, don't you hav-” She grasps him by the shoulder, giving him a nice smile as her eyes switch to a faint purple. He smiles, confused and already trapped beneath her influence. He stumbles away, looking like a drunk rather then a trained professional. Her eyes switch back to blue once more, and she rubs at them with agitation. It bothered her vision to use it quickly like that, but it was a sign of steady improvements. Mystic Eyes definitely had their benefits, and her eyes were some of the most dangerous around.

The path down to the wine cellar was long and had many twists and turns beneath the manor. Usually, it was locked and guarded, as if she was planning on breaking in to have a drink and party down there. Sometimes the logic of her family confounded her. Although, she was breaking into it, so maybe they had something right. Shame this wasn't for a party, she thinks bitterly. The musty air of the cellar hits her before she even enters. Taking a deep breath, she pushes inside. Being a Barthomeloi, she would have the best chance of this working successfully, but that thought failed to calm her. She wasn't terrified, far from it. Maybe it was excitement that was putting her on edge. Weeks of information gathering and bribery was all coming together.

Her hand brushes against her side, removing a pocket knife from her pant pocket. Extending the blade, she makes several fast slashes across her fingertips, blood spilling out at a slow rate. The knife is discarded, and the lone magi slowly drags her hands against the ground. Paying close attention to her work, she pulls her hands back only when she believes the circle to be perfect, more out of habit then trying to impress the Servant she would summon. Her red stained hands grab the cloth, the contents were placed carefully in the center to avoid smudges.

If any Master had done any background research, they would have been awed by what Veronica was willingly offering. Right in the middle of her circle lay the only remains of the 'Bull of Heaven'. The horns were stained yellow, and had endured through the ages through some form of miracle. Apparently, some rogue clan of magi had found the artifact and kept it for show. Veronica rolls her eyes. Typical.

The magi clears her throat, preparing herself for what would happen next. Well, moment of truth.

"Ye first, O silver, O iron." Her prana flared to life, glowing with a power that only one with Noble Circuits could posses. The aura around her was overwhelming for many, enough to frighten those who opposed her family line. Her eyes close, her brain focusing on the next lines with careful precision. The shape of a command seal began to slowly appear, it's faint glow reflecting a rich red light. It curved, trailing slowly from her index finger, wrapping around the palm in intricate patterns and spirals. She could feel it's heat, reaching and carving into her shoulder blade.

"O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract. Hear me in the name of our great teacher, the Archmagus Schweinorg." The circle glowed, reacting to the words just as strongly as her command seal had. It burned intensely, flaring in a light that left room for any shadows. Veronica wasn't holding back her power, not in the slightest. She had opened the floodgates, and there was no way any magi could ever compete with this maelstrom. She clenches his hands tightly, the look of concentration on her face only increased.

"Let the descending winds be as a wall. Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Five perfections for each repetition. And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead! Set. Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy blade. If thou submittest to my calling and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond." The command seal sears, burning like hot iron against her pale skin. Veronica doesn't flinch, rather, it only strives her volume to increase.

"I make my oath here. I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens. I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades. Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words, come past thy restraining rings," Her eyes snapped open, the command seal glowing as her prana pulses beneath her flesh.

"And be thou the hands that protect the balance-!" Rather then yelling out the last line, her voice slowly drops in tone and volume as she stares forward, ready for the summon, her heart pounding in her chest.

[Gilgamesh]

The images from that night still remained burned vividly into his memory. She stood against the hail of divine mysteries, if only barely, battered and broken like a child's plaything. He had been sure that she would fall to him that night, and that she who dared refuse him and his generous offer to become his possession would perish. He had without effort swallowed up her most powerful attack, and - believing his victory to be inevitable - had carelessly advanced upon her. As he had briefly called off the attack to gaze upon her corpse, she had emerged without warning; with one swing of her Holy Sword, she dealt him a fatal blow. It was in that moment that Gilgamesh, known as Sha naqba imuru, fell to the Once and Future King of Britain in an unexpected demonstration not of power, but of protection. In those last moments, he had realized that if he was to be defeated, then he was glad it was Arturia Pendragon who proved to be such a worthy enemy. And without a thought of the Fake-priest or the fate of the world, he disappeared into the ether.

That was his last memory of reborn life: an honorable defeat against an enemy whom was not necessarily superior, but certainly worthy recognition. Gilgamesh had found that the other side was not as he had remembered it. Maybe it was because of his experience during the climax of the Fourth Heaven's Feel...he was not sure. But he did not feel dead...or rather, he did not feel as if he did not exist. He now felt a feeling of self-awareness that had not existed before the Grail had called him forth under the orders of Magus Tokiomi Tohsaka. He knew he was alive...he just didn't feel the breath of life within him. He could not see, nor could he hear...but he could think. And he could feel. That was enough to keep the Golden Knight originally summoned by the House of Tohsaka very much alive and aware within the Throne of Heroes. He waited, lost within the darkness...it felt as if he was suspended by some substance around him, when truthfully he knew there was only darkness. So within the darkness Gilgamesh did the only thing he could do: he patiently waited.

And now, one-and-a-half years after his defeat at the hands of the King of Knights, he felt a sensation he hadn't experienced in just over two decades. His feet finally felt as if they had touched upon solid ground. He was disappointed to see the floor beneath him was still made of darkness. But now he could move...his body was responding to his command once more. He was under his own control...and the nostalgic feeling from twenty years ago returned. It almost felt like someone was tugging at strings attached to him. As if some unknown force was trying to guide him in the right direction. Gilgamesh's suspicions were proven true when a sudden light appeared at the end of the tunnel. He did not bother trying to run to it, nor did he attempt to obtain it. He knew that the light would come to him, should he accept its desire to do so. As the dim glow of light barely flickered like a far-off candle, he heard a voice.

"Ye first, O silver, O iron!"

The light sprang into existence with those words alone, but it remained a tiny, flickering flame that threatened to be extinguished at any moment.

"O stone of the foundation, O Archduke of the Contract. Hear me in the name of our great teacher, the Archmagus Schweinorg."

The light now seemed to pulsate slightly, as if it were being given a life of its own. In a sense, that much was true. A sliver of a smirk crept across the thin lips of the Original Hero as the familiar chant was spoken. Yet, he also found something unpleasant was occurring...not in the event itself...but a particular element of the event now taking place. Truly, only Gilgamesh the King could find a reason to be critical of now being summoned after a year of stillness and inky blackness. On top of that, one might find the reason for his displeasure laughable...but to him, the voice itself was irksome. It spoke with confidence and humble authority. But it wasn't the tone that bothered him...it was the pitch of the voice. It didn't sound grating: even the voice itself was smooth and elegant, refined. But amidst all of these facts, he still found one reason to feel a stigma towards the voice.

It was the voice of a female.

A female, a creature inferior in all aspects to their male counterparts by his estimation. A human made to serve man as court entertainers, and possessions to be saved for the kitchen, the garden, or the bedroom at a man's whim. Such a creature...such a person...was calling upon him with the same words spoken to him twenty years ago by Tokiomi Tohsaka. He had answered the call then, but this time he felt hesitance. Still, he listened to the voice as it spoke...there was something about it. Something within the voice itself that said if he was not Gilgamesh, He Who Saw the Deep, that he would have no choice in the matter. The sheer power of the mystic words being spoken made the bright star "feel" more appealing to him...because an individual with such power to invoke a summoning could only be a magus doubly more powerful than that boring plebeian from last time. So, despite his mild displeasure, the smirk of intrigue refused to leave his flawless face.

"Let the descending winds be as a wall. Let the gates in all directions be shut, rising above the crown, and let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Five perfections for each repetition. And now, let the filled sigils be annihilated in my stead! Set. Let thy body rest under my dominion, let my fate rest in thy blade. If thou submittest to my calling and if thou wilt obey this mind, this reason, then thou shalt respond."

This...isn't the same as before.

He thought to himself, beginning to almost tremble with excitement. His tiny smirk had spread wider, so much so he seemed close to splitting open a grin. He knew the voice was female, and he hated it for that fact. But this was not the voice of a slave girl, the likes of which whose virginity he had many times claimed before the eyes of a husband to be. No. This voice reminded him of her. It spoke with power, and dignity. It commanded his attention, and had he been any lesser spirit, he would have been sucked into the star and summoned by now. But his staggeringly stubborn ego allowed him to just watch as the star grew in intensity and size, spreading around the darkness much quicker than when he had been called before. He was swayed, now, by personal interest to listen to the voice's plea. It did not dare order his appearance...it pleaded for it, yet it did so with its head held high even whilst bowing before his superiority to all things.

"I make my oath here. I am that person who is to become the virtue of all Heavens. I am that person who is covered with the evil of all Hades. Thou seven heavens, clad in a trinity of words, come past thy restraining rings,"

The light spread even further into the darkness with those words. It practically swallowed up the inky blackness of the world around him, and Gilgamesh knew full well what his reply would be. For against his will he stood on the paper-thin precipice over an endless abyss of purified light. If he stepped fully into it, then he could manifest once more in the material world as a Servant to a Magus - clearly a powerful one at that - and seek the entertainment and amusement he had for so long missed since being felled by that foreign blade. His teeth were bared in an almost excited grin, and he decided to - for the sake of his own personal pleasure - make a quick change before he accepted this invitation.

Briefly, did a key appear in his hand, and almost instantly a golden liquid poured itself upon him. It clung to him, as if it were its only means of survival. It filled his eyes, nose, ears, mouth, and not an inch of his body was left uncovered. Then, it slithered back into the ether, revealing a much younger-looking Gilgamesh. He had the same golden hair - albeit let down now - and a softer skin-tone. He could be no older than seventeen, but still he was Gilgamesh. He had taken the only measure he saw necessary to answer this call. Normally, the fact a woman was to be his Master would be enough reason for him to refuse her plea. Yet, the sheer power of the magical words spoken...the pure insistence that he answer the call, and the staggering will behind the words. These changed his mind, and he heard the voice call out the final line.

"And be thou the hands that protect the balance-!"

Instantly and without hesitation, Gilgamesh calmly stepped into the light. The hand had been not only offered to him, but thrust forward into his face to accept. It promised not to use him as a crutch, but to utilize him as the best tool for whatever craft he was used for. Servant Archer, Gilgamesh, decided to answer the call. He disappeared from the Throne of Heroes, and seamlessly returned to the world of the living. For him, the process was that plain and simple and nondescript. But the golden-hued eyes of his Master would have been left to behold a very different sight had the light not blinded her for the instant it took. The light, the magical air circulating about as the ritual was completed, all these things appeared as normal. But the change would be in the artifacts themselves. The horns began to levitate into the center of the room, slowly beginning to reverse the unforgiving aging process. The various cracks and fissures slowly repaired themselves, and the dust and dirt and weathered bone all yielded to the power of the Throne of Heroes.

Ancient cuneiform upon the reinforced calcium began to glow brightly, and the horns themselves had been restored to their prime. Then, they tore themselves asunder into numerous grains of sediment, imploding upon themselves without warning. These fragments twisted and turned and ground themselves into a fine powder. Then, the powder began to fall. This all happened in less than an instant, but the power itself did not fall upon the ground. It trickled down from a point, and then began to fan outward and spill quickly into a shape: the shape of a human being. But as the light cleared, Veronica would be left to see none of this, but instead: a man. Yet, the aura that emanated from him would not be that of a human or Magus. Unless the girl had been around a Servant before, it would be a totally new feeling she would almost inevitably be subjected to. He appeared in the instant the light faded away, and stood upon the powered remains of the tablet.

Gilgamesh appeared clad in very little: no shirt, but this left Veronica able to see his sculpted body. The legends say that Gilgamesh was given glory in all ways even upon his birth. That his body was magnificent, like a bull. In that regard, truly the legend could be seen as accurate. His muscles were not overbearingly large, but clearly held within them even in life more power than any other person. Well, save for one, in his time. Still, Gilgamesh's perfect physique was undeniable, and even more of it would have been seen were it not for loincloth he wore. It was clearly made of lion's hide, and secured about his waist and between his legs. Upon his wrists were magnificent, long bands of gold. About his neck, a silver necklace with golden teeth decorating it...clearly not teeth belonging to a human. Gilgamesh did not look around just yet...he needed to clarify something. The grail urged him to do so politely, but he was not one to be swayed by the magic governing the grail...which, to his surprise, must surely still exist. But even that was not yet his concern.

With royal haughtiness did he regard her: his position firm and upright, shoulders squared and feet shoulder-width apart. His fiery gaze case upon her with a mixture of surprise, disdain, respect, and curiosity. He raised an eyebrow now, and simply shrugged, a cocky grin decorating his face.

"Hm. I doubt a woman could properly be so insistent when she comes knocking at my door, but let me ask you a question anyway." He took a step forward, and proudly carried himself over to the girl. He was stunned for a moment...he, the King of Heroes...because this girl had summoned him...yet he automatically knew what catalyst she had used, and it should have summoned... Enkidu.

The only reason it did not call upon Enkidu - the one whom had actually bound the bull of heaven - presumably, was her will, her power as a magus, and the fact the horns were about fifty percent a catalyst to himself. For a brief moment -if the girl looked for such faltering- she would see his eyes widen not in fear, but interest. His eyebrow lowered, and he continued his question, needing to establish a certain fact before he could have any other business with this woman. His arrogant grin had thus faded into a more serious, even remotely respectful expression. His tone was also less sarcastic, even if only briefly.

"You, who summon me with such fervor. Are you the Magus who dared to summon the King of Sumeria and the Builder of the walls of Uruk? Are you...my Master?"

[Veronica Barthomeloi]

The only sound Veronica can hear is the slow hum of her pulse, quivering beneath the roar of prana. She exhales, watching the artifact reverse the wear of age in moments. It was working, the summoning would be a success. Her doubts fade, confidence and triumph taking place. This was an end, an end to obligation and restriction. This was freedom, and despite it's risks, she was willing to pay in full to enjoy the privileges. No longer would she be a Barthomeloi, she's be...just Veronica. That thought left her trembling with excitement, her lips splitting into a mad grin. Although, her body is startled as the horns crash against the cellar floor. Her eyes shut in recoil as they smash, her hand rising to shield the intense light that follows. In this brief moment, breath leaves her, and she's frozen in place as the light gradually fades. It's with great care that her eyes open, her hand dropping to her side.

The presence that had entered into the manor was... overwhelming. It was intoxicating, drawing her in, but so powerful that she was struck into stillness. Her thoughts clear from her mind, leaving her speechless. Never in her life had Veronica been so conflicted. So this was the power of a Servant, the power of the King of Kings. This would take some adapting, on her part. The newly cast Master stands straight, observing her Servant. Being the teenager she is, Veronica seems rather shocked when the lack of clothing becomes apparent. Where was the golden armor? The swords? The research she had done specifically targeted those traits. Not once did any book say 'Oh, and he may be half naked when he shows up, have fun.'. She coughs into her fist, shifting from one foot to the other. Well, there was no doubt that he was ready for battle.

When his eyes met hers, Veronica stills. His regal presence could quiet crowds, but this Barthomeloi was well aware of her social position. Rather then behaving as the typical subject, she stands firm. Bold eye contact and straight spine, Veronica's lips curl into a soft frown. He towered over her, making her average height of 5'4 seem pathetic. Her brow furrows. God damn genetics. She also notices the shift in age. Wasn't he supposed to be much older? At the moment, he seemed closer to her age then expected. Did it shift in connection to Masters? Those questions could be addressed later.

"Hm. I doubt a woman could properly be so insistent when she comes knocking at my door, but let me ask you a question anyway." Veronica remains still, noting the cocky grin on his face. It was unsettling, but at the same time, there was a firm reason as to why he was appeased. Was he impressed? He had bounced from inadequate owner to another. Now that he was before a magi of the top caliber, it must be like seeing daylight after a storm. The disdain in his eyes was present, but she could detect respect beneath the ember lit gaze. Veronica was not surprised. She was a woman and young, two things that would grate him in all the wrong directions. Her lack of experience may be a challenge, and she openly acknowledged that. Her gender on the other hand, well, Gilgamesh would have some adapting to do as well.

"You, who summon me with such fervor. Are you the Magus who dared to summon the King of Sumeria and the Builder of the walls of Uruk? Are you...my Master?" Her lips twisted slightly, the frown replaced by the faintest of smiles and her eyes sparked with triumph. She seemed rather devious in that split moment, feeling like she had snatched the trump card that could rock the foundations of this 'grail war'. While Veronica's main focus didn't revolve around the war, she understood that Gilgamesh would play a role. She had no interest in the Grail or it's properties, but that didn't mean this war couldn't be good sport. Might be fun, as long as she didn't die. It would be a change from the slow lifestyle she had grown up with. Might be interesting to dabble in it from time to time.

"Yes. Seems as though my fervor managed to earn your attention by the looks of it, Archer.” Her hand brushes over her newly gifted command seal. Although, her gaze breaks away from his. She looks towards the door, scowling. Bah. That employee promised to keep the wards down for the night. There wouldn't be any security, and the family was off on yet another trip to the Clock Tower. It would be a clean exit. Good riddance.

[Gilgamesh]

"Yes. Seems as though my fervor managed to earn your attention by the looks of it, Archer.”

Archer. One of the seven classes into which the Heroic Spirits known as "Servants" were summoned, under the direct influence of the Holy Grail. Archer was the class ascribed to the Knight of the Bow, and - along with those designated as Saber and Lancer - was one of the three knight classes of Servants that could be summoned during a Heaven's Feel. It was common knowledge among privy magus that Archer-class Servants were those who excelled in the use of projectile weapons. More so than any other class, the true strength and the qualifying condition to be placed in the itself class is determined not by the attributes of the heroic spirit, but the possession of powerful projectile weapons or special abilities related to projectile weapons.

Gilgamesh was the first and original hero, revered as the titular character of history's first epic. In his time, King Gilgamesh ventured throughout the known world and collected all of its treasures, claiming everything as his own. In obtaining every treasure of the world, Gilgamesh obtained the original, superior models of artifacts that would become legend and pass into the hands of history's greatest heroes. Cursed and demonic and holy blades, Gilgamesh owned them all and kept them stored within his treasury before the were ever passed on into their respective legends and degenerated by word of mouth and the limitations of the minds of men.

And while his epic never provided that much of an insight - never going beyond stating that Gilgamesh obtained every treasure in the world - it was this treasury that allowed him to become an "Archer" as a Servant. Using his treasury, Gate of Babylon, Gilgamesh's preferred tactic was to bombard his enemies with a barrage of his treasures, all of which were capable of felling a heroic spirit. The primary "Noble Phantasm" used by Gilgamesh was not a singular existence like Excalibur or The Lance of Longinus, but instead was a truly limitless and infinite arsenal of such divine mysteries. And as the true King of Heroes, Gilgamesh could freely call upon his Gate of Babylon to overpower most any opponent. And even beyond that staggering archived arsenal of Noble Phantasms, King Gilgamesh possessed two distinct Noble Phantasms, though their stories are for another time.

Now, Gilgamesh - referred to by his class name, as was typical of heroic spirits, to protect their identity once they were summoned into the world - continued to meet the gaze of his Master. He scorned her from the start, for being a woman, but on top of that he considered her rather unimposing even as a maiden. It was not in the nature of the King of Heroes to bow on one knee before a female. Still, Gilgamesh had served under at least two Masters prior to this summon that he could remember, and it had been a long while since he had been called forth in either case.

Gilgamesh could feel how much more powerful his current Master was than her predecessors even Tokiomi Tohsaka. And it was saying something for a magus to be able to claim they were more magically potent than a Tohsaka. But the bond between Master and Servant didn't lie; the flow of prana established between them via Veronica's command seal spoke volumes about her as a Magus...and Gilgamesh was no fool...he knew that the woman before him was both a powerful magus and his current Master. Her prana level alone was noticeably more potent than Tokiomi Tohsaka's had been, but he hoped that this young woman would prove herself to not be as boring as Tokiomi. That man's stoic nature and desire to hold the reigns of every situation irked Gilgamesh to no end, though the man's apprentice, Kirei Kotomine, had proved to be most interesting.

Though, honestly, it wouldn't be the end of Gilgamesh's involvement in the Holy Grail War if he happened to find his Master boring. On the contrary, it was quite possible that - should Gilgamesh be allowed to become dissatisfied with his Master's performance - that only his Master would meet her untimely end. Gilgamesh's status as an Archer-class Servant offered him a very unique and helpful personal skill: Independent Action. At its current level, Independent Action guaranteed that Gilgamesh could survive nigh indefinitely without a Master’s supervision, something no other Servant class could do. Even so, it wasn’t in the nature of the king to slay his Master without reason… it would simply fall upon Veronica’s shoulders to ensure her Servant was content with the arrangements.

"When a Master's call harbors such insistence as yours did, it is hard to not comply. Were I any other Servant, I would have forcibly been summoned. That fact alone is enough to arouse my interest in you." Proclaimed the scuplted, topless warrior of Sumeria. His sandaled feet took another step towards her, his sharp crimson gaze scanning her for any signs of weakness. She held herself high, but if she held herself too high, then the king's pride would become injured. Still, he did not see fit to assert his dominance just now, and when she cast her spiteful gaze to the door, a sliver of a smile creeped upon his lips.

"In other words, it is your "fervor" which intrigued me enough to answer the summons. What does my "Master" call herself?" He asked, not something a Servant would normally demand of their Master. "After all," he continued on, "It is not becoming of a king such as I to refer to another as "Master," would you not agree?" He asked, his arrogance clear as day before the eyes of his new Master. Careful, measured steps were to be taken by any Master of Gilgamesh, though Veronica had likely considered the possibility of Gilgamesh possessing such an imperious personality.

[Veronica Barthomeloi]

"When a Master's call harbors such insistence as yours did, it is hard to not comply. Were I any other Servant, I would have forcibly been summoned. That fact alone is enough to arouse my interest in you." Her head twists around quickly, a small spark of surprise in her eyes. Well, arousing the interest of this Servant was quite the compliment. While it didn't sound much like one, Veronica wasn't going to complain. Hell, she'd take whatever she could at this point. First impressions would be vital for long term partnership. If she remembered correctly, Gilgamesh's previous masters had trouble working with him due to personal conflict, or their inability to appeal to him. This magi wasn't going to follow in those footsteps, but it'd be hard to appeal to him and hold his interest at the same time. Veronica paused, contemplating that thought. How would someone go about doing that anyways. Well, hopefully her personality would be enough to help her.

Or kill her, give or take.

“I'm honored to hear I managed to catch your interest. I did my research, you know. I didn't think the ritual would have gone so smoothly.” She was being honest, and there wasn't an ounce of discomfort or weakness displayed. So long as she was careful, there was no need to worry. All Veronica needed to do was play towards his interests. Don't hurt his pride, and he didn't hurt her. That sounded like a nice little exchange, although humility wasn't something Veronica frequently practiced. Her hand brushed over her command seal. That would be a last minute resort, should things not turn in her favor. Silently, she remarks that her command seal would need to be preserved. She only had three chances for complete control. Not only would they have to count, but they couldn't insult him. It would be difficult to repair relations if that went wrong. Maybe she should have stuck with a lesser servant. Would make the process a lot smoother, but deep down she knew this was the best choice. A weaker servant meant a weaker chance in this conflict.

"In other words, it is your "fervor" which intrigued me enough to answer the summons. What does my "Master" call herself?"

“My apologies for not specifying that earlier. I am Veronica Barthomeloi, future family head of the Barthomeloi line. Of course, Veronica would be best for someone of your status. I come from a long line of magi, and our special trump card is our Noble Circuits. I'm sure you already noticed that, of course.” Eh, she should have added her name in earlier. It wasn't a smart idea making him ask for it, but Veronica would just have to role with it now. She takes one small step back at his step forward, noticing his scrutiny. Needless to say, she didn't feel the most comfortable at the moment. The magi was keeping a close eye on what she was saying, constantly thinking about the best sentences to say. God, she hoped it wouldn't be like this later. Veronica continues the eye contact, her gaze not faltering in the slightest.

"After all," he continued on, "It is not becoming of a king such as I to refer to another as "Master," would you not agree?"

She nods, one arm crossing over her chest and gives a slight bow, maintaining eye contact. “Of course.” Silently, she thinks that she looks much like the other families that came to visit the manor from time to time. They tended to bow very similarly, and while Veronica had never been taught to appeal to those of higher authority, she had a feeling that she was getting across: 'We're both equal, but I'm appealing to you here'. Or at least, that's what she was hoping for. If a sword were to impale her in the chest, then she'd know she did something wrong. Inwardly, she grimaces. So this is what her employees felt like.

Standing up straight, she lets out a small huff of air. Oh boy, she hopes she wouldn't have to address him like that everyday. That would put a strain on her nerves. “Anyways, formalities aside for the moment, I summoned you because I knew you would be my best option for this grail war. It's going to be different this time around. Turns out there's going to be more then the typical 'seven'.” She does air quotes quickly. “So, it seems like it's going to be an all out war this time around.” Veronica clears her throat.

“And there's also the matter of my family being worthless, superficial fops. I suppose we can go deeper into detail about that later, though.”

[Gilgamesh]

“I'm honored to hear I managed to catch your interest. I did my research, you know.” His Master stated, almost coolly. This did nothing to erase the amused, sliver of a smirk that had arisen upon his flawless features. Yet, it did nothing to deepen the graceful, curled trench upon his lips either. He was simply amused by his Master, and the air with which she carried herself. Essentially, the atmosphere surrounding the pink-haired magus whom had so vehemently called him forth from the Throne of Heroes was... similar. In fact, it was similar to his own imperious air, though at the same time, it seemed Veronica was more carefully measuring the intensity of her regality.

Tokiomi Tohsaka, his first Master, had addressed him with the utmost humility and respect from the first words spoken from Master to Servant; the esteemed magus had even bowed before Gilgamesh and openly recognized him as a king. When imploring the King of Heroes to do a favor for him, Tokiomi had properly displayed humility and prostrated himself before the unquestionable authority of his Servant. In short, Tokiomi had stroked Gilgamesh's ego in the proper fashion, but even then Gilgamesh was no puppet and had proven his will was separate from his Master's own, on several occasions.

Then, there was the matter of his second Master, Kirei Kotomine, the fake priest. Kirei had begun his campaign in the Holy Grail War as the subordinate and disciple of Tokiomi... and it had been none other than Gilgamesh who had encouraged Kirei to seek his own purpose in the Fourth Heaven's Feel and in life, in general. The end result: Kirei Kotomine slipped a dagger into Tokiomi Tohsaka's back, betraying his unsuspecting master. The events following the Fourth Heaven's Feel had proved to be rather dull, but the Fifth Heaven's Feel ten years after made the waiting worth it. Kirei had provided a generous supply of prana by sustaining and draining the lives of numerous children, giving their life force to Gilgamesh through a greater ritual that lasted almost a decade.

Now, before History's First King, stood a new Master. Unlike Tokiomi or Kirei, this Master was a female, a woman. In Gilgamesh's time, women belonged to men as possessions, and were not respected to the extent they now were. In the eyes of Gilgamesh, women typically belonged in a man's kitchen or bedchamber, tending to the pleasure of their master. However, at the end of the Fifth Holy Grail War... Gilgamesh had been made to rethink his views, if only a little. Specifically, he could not refute the fact a woman - granted, a woman he had already deemed a worthy opponent and prize - had defeated him. And similarly, he could not refute the fact that the female magus who stood before him now had called out with much greater power than Tokiomi had managed.

Still, The King of Heroes could not help but think to himself, If she did in fact 'do her research' as she claims, then she should realize how close of a call this summoning was. The horns of the divine bull... used as a catalyst to call me forth from that realm. If it were anyone lesser than this female magus, my brother would have been called forth into the world, not I. Does she realize she almost summoned Enkidu, or no? He questioned internally, though his face did nothing to betray his genuine curiosity just now. Instead, he allowed his Master to continue addressing him, noting with each syllable the measured dignity of her air.

"I didn't think the ritual would have gone so smoothly." She said, almost as if she could sense his uneasiness regarding his Master's confidence. The entire dialogue between them set the foundation for their relationship: measured respect and humility from the magus, and conservative assertion of authority from Gilgamesh. Luckily for Gilgamesh, it seemed he did not notice her subconscious gesture as she brushed her hand over the command seal.

As a Barthomeloi, Veronica had undoubtedly taken into consideration the unfaltering ego of the Servant known as Gilgamesh. Because of this, she had crafted a modified command seal... still, there were only three commands... but even in the face of Gilgamesh's unyielding will, those three commands would be absolute. Additionally, Veronica's rationale reinforced the opinion she could see the bigger picture; she knew that her three absolute commands would need to be issued with care and tact, in regards to both the actual use of the command seals as well as how they would affect the relationship between Master and Servant.

"I am Veronica Barthomeloi," the pink-haired magus stated, after a brief but sincere-sounding apology. "Future family head of the Barthomeloi line. Of course, "Veronica" would be best for someone of your status. I come from a long line of magi, and our special trump card is our Noble Circuits. I'm sure you already noticed that, of course.” "

Indeed, I have. He stated, simply.

“Of course.” Veronica continued on, in response to his question. She assumed a polite bowing stance, though she maintained eye contact in spite of the bowing motion. She was similar to Tokiomi, clearly flourishing her bow, but maintaining more dignity than Tokiomi had dared preserve. Still, this display did not anger Gilgamesh. Quite the opposite: it thrilled him that his Master was of such high stature among the magus community, and he couldn't help but let a grin form on his visage upon hearing of her "Noble Circuits;" a grin which only now disappeared.

“Anyways, formalities aside for the moment, I summoned you because I knew you would be my best option for this grail war. It's going to be different this time around. Turns out there's going to be more than the typical 'seven'.” Veronica continued on, straight to business. That was just as well with Gilgamesh, and he listened with most of his attention directed towards her, only briefly bothering to survey the dreary cellar he had been summoned to as the mirthful expression fled from his face. Instead, a look of quiet interest was plastered on his face, and directed at his newly appointed Master. “So, it seems like it's going to be an all out war this time around.”

And with that statement, the neutral look too yielded to an excited, but only briefly did the King of Heroes remain completely expressionless. He tilted his head down to face the floor, and only if Veronica paid special attention would she notice the almost ear-to-ear smirk, which was a mixture of one-part sinister and one-part excited. He ignored the girl's statement about her family, not one to be concerned with such things. Instead, he was focused on her previous statement about the new conditions of this Heaven's Feel.

"Let me be clear, in case I was not earlier." Gilgamesh said, his smirk becoming less sinister, but twice as arrogant as he lifted his gaze to meet her own. The only reason I was not forced to answer your summon is because I am myself, the greatest hero known to history's tapestry. And I've always felt the restricting conditions of this war among magi made things too simple, too boring. And my first Master heavily restricted my actions in the Fourth Grail War. So I see this as an opportunity to weed out the unworthy mongrels who dare assume the role of 'heroic spirit' and judge for myself whom is worthy of my full attentions." Gilgamesh said to Veronica, his smirk still very much full of pride, no doubt lacing his words.

"So with the most powerful magus as the Master, and me at your side, we will win this war without any trouble." He affirmed, his mind already racing with the possibilities of a Heaven's Feel without the seven-Servant limit.

[Veronica Barthomeloi]

"Let me be clear, in case I was not earlier. The only reason I was not forced to answer your summon is because I am myself, the greatest hero known to history's tapestry. And I've always felt the restricting conditions of this war among magi made things too simple, too boring. And my first Master heavily restricted my actions in the Fourth Grail War. So I see this as an opportunity to weed out the unworthy mongrels who dare assume the role of 'heroic spirit' and judge for myself whom is worthy of my full attentions. So with the most powerful magus as the Master, and me at your side, we will win this war without any trouble."

“With that much confidence, we might as well be given the grail and get it over with.” It seemed like he was going to really push himself in this war. After all, there was no limit. Gilgamesh probably wouldn't need to be selective about who the fight. The man could go on a rampage and it wouldn't even leave a scratch. Well, if there were that many Servant, anyways. She frowns briefly. The vast amount of competition would be troublesome, but it also took away the pressure. With so many, it would take ages for everyone to thin out. This grail war could go on for months, even years. Veronica had no idea what the hell the grail was doing, but it would be interesting, that was for sure.

“Look, I'm not going to run things like your other Masters either. You don't need a Master constantly trailing beside you. I won't restrict you unless I feel necessary, which will probably be never.” Veronica stuffs her hands into both pockets, shrugging her shoulders. Unlike the two other Masters, she had no need for underhanded tricks. She had been trained, trimmed, and educated on the matters of combat. While she may be of smaller stature, Veronica could hold her own. As of such, the idea of underhanded tactics was unnecessary. Tokiomi may have wanted to control every situation, but Veronica would prove to be the polar opposite. The only connection they ever shared was their noble backgrounds, but Veronica already surpassed him in that area.

“Besides that, I guess the only matter at hand would be what to do from here. As always, Fuyuki is going to be the center of all this action. I decided that being here in the foreign district was going to cause more trouble then good. There are arrangements for a residence within the city. My treasury has more then enough funds to last awhile, so you won't need to rely on your wealth. It would be bad on my part to make a guest pay for their own comforts.” There were plenty of apartments and such around Fuyuki, along with penthouses. If it wasn't obvious, Veronica had gone out of her way to purchase herself a nice penthouse towards the center of town. It had been a problem wiring the money through, but it was her's now. Although she didn't get the chance to see it yet. Hopefully it would be as nice as she had been told. It cost a pretty penny, but in her book, it wasn't anything too large. Mind you, what Veronica considered to be a mild ammount of money was a fortune to many. She would learn that soon enough, but until then, she would continue to live at a higher standard then others.

She extended her hand, giving a confident smirk. “Well then, King of Kings, are you fine with these arrangements?” She keeps her hand out, waiting for a handshake.

[Gilgamesh]

“With that much confidence, we might as well be given the grail and get it over with.”

In all sincerity, Gilgamesh agreed with his Master in that regard. He truly believed - or rather, perhaps "correctly realized" - that he could win any Heaven's Feel in the short span of several days. However, he also had issues with the thought of simply engaging any Servant whom embraced the title "Heroic Spirit." Instead, Gilgamesh was of the notion that the unworthy should cull their numbers amongst themselves until only the worthy heroic spirits remain. Still, as he had implied, he was quite eager to see what would happen now that the seven Servant limit had apparently been lifted. "How" or "Why" the limit had been removed were not his concern. He simply accepted his Master's word, correctly assuming her to be a well-educated magus; after all, she was his Master.

“Look, I'm not going to run things like your other Masters either. You don't need a Master constantly trailing beside you. I won't restrict you unless I feel necessary, which will probably be never.”

Apparently, his Master had told him the truth: she had indeed done her homework. He was surprised she knew anything of his previous Masters, though the fact she had went to the trouble of researching as much information as she could spoke to her determination and competency as a magus. Her words also stroked his ego just the right way: softly but firmly. Rather, her words resonated with him because he wholeheartedly agreed with her; to him, a Master was there to provide a source of prana and an anchoring point for Servants like him. Though, he would also expect his Master to prove herself worthy along the way. In the end, this would be best accomplished through fighting alongside him when necessary and taking initiative while simultaneously allowing him freedom and not trying to exert excess control over him.

"You are wise to not plan on hindering me and my performance. You see, when a soldier is given too many restrictions or orders, he loses the will to fight. As a king, then, I cannot be needlessly bound by the mundane whims of others...my initial Master, Tokiomi, made the mistake of trying to manipulate me like a puppet, and presumed far too high a status for himself in my presence." Gilgamesh said simply, his tone genuinely indignant.

“Besides that, I guess the only matter at hand would be what to do from here. As always, Fuyuki is going to be the center of all this action. I decided that being here in the foreign district was going to cause more trouble then good. There are arrangements for a residence within the city. My treasury has more then enough funds to last awhile, so you won't need to rely on your wealth. It would be bad on my part to make a guest pay for their own comforts.”

Gilgamesh did not feel the need to thank his Master for her hospitality. He was, as she had said, her guest. On top of that, she planned on using his infinite power to win this private little war between magi. As such, it was only natural - by Gilgamesh's estimation - that his Master warmly welcome him and make his stay as comfortable as humanly possible. As the true King of Heroes, only the finest accommodations would be suitable for him. That point of view is what motivated his now apparent displeasure of their dreary surroundings. The dark, dank cellar did little to appease his sense of kingly pride; this cellar was a place where rats would dwell, in his mind.

“Well then, King of Kings, are you fine with these arrangements?” His Master inquired, offering a hand in his direction. Gilgamesh frowned at this gesture, his crimson gaze sinking to her hand and briefly regarding it in contemplation. It was against his better judgment to shake hands with a woman. But this female had proven herself to be superior to his vision of a female magus. She was clearly competent and certainly potent in regards to her prana supply. She was the most worthy Master to summon him to date, and it was with that thought the King of Heroes extended a hand in turn. He gripped her hand gently but firmly in his own strong, lithe fingers. His hand was slightly larger than hers, but he did not cause her pain. He simply shook hands with her gracefully, speaking to her with a wry smirk on his lips.

"I'll obtain the holy grail, Master. And I don't care how many Servants there are. Those who are worthy enough to face me will fall before me in the end. It's all a matter of inevitability. I simply hope to be entertained both by our enemies and of course by what accommodations you apparently plan on supplying, Veronica." Gilgamesh added, his voice carrying the slightest hint of arrogant playfulness.

[Veronica Barthomeloi]

"I'll obtain the holy grail, Master. And I don't care how many Servants there are. Those who are worthy enough to face me will fall before me in the end. It's all a matter of inevitability. I simply hope to be entertained both by our enemies and of course by what accommodations you apparently plan on supplying, Veronica."

The corners of her lips formed into a confident grin, her icy blue eyes meeting his gaze with full force. Deep down, Veronica was genuinely excited. Things were, for once, going her way. There wasn't anyone who could stop her now. No, there was no turning back anymore. Good bye Barthomeloi, good bye ridiculous magi regulations! Veronica was going to take years of tradition and blow them right out the window. Who cared if the Enforcers tried to hunt her down, she'd just hold up her command seal in pride. Her family may have claimed her early years, but she was going to pay them back in full. Oh, it was going to be glorious when they realize what had happened. Hell, maybe her father would lose his composer. That, now that made Veronica giddy. While this wasn't an act of spite against her family, the direct defiance was a plus all the way. Veronica wasn't out for something as stupid as revenge, nah, she wanted change. Because a family that was based around outdated laws was, obviously, outdated. Barthomeloi weren't a significant force in the world anymore. They had fallen into the obscurity. No one in the magical world took them seriously. Her family had turned lazy in their years, and she'd be the family head that would break them into shape, even if it took a complete revamp.

“Excellent! Well, I suppose there's no reason to stick around here anymore!” With that, Veronica twists around on her heel, striding towards the exit of the doorway. “There should be a car waiting for us outside the manor gates in about...” With one hand, she pushes open the door while her other digs around in her coat pocket. Removing a small silver pocket watch, the pink-haired magi frowns as she checks the time. “..now. Well, time flies when you're summoning heroic spirits.”

She drops the watch into her pocket, proceeding onward with a bit more jump in her step then usual. The magi seems unaware of this, and continues on with her business as if it was another day at the manor, rather then her betrayal. Well, betrayal was a bit much, but it sorta felt like it. Veronica glances around the hallway, then checking behind her shoulder to see Gilgamesh following. “Normally, I'd offer a tour, but I don't plan on staying here long.” Actually, she'd tell some employee to give the tour, but close enough. It was a shame she was in a rush, the manor was lavish in every sense of the word. Veronica rushes through the main hall, not paying attention to her surroundings. The guard from earlier was off sleeping, just like she had ordered. Good.

If Gilgamesh had been looking at her face, he would notice the activation of her mystic eyes. Her blue eyes seemed to explode into a color barrage of purple and white. Her pupils shifted, minimizing till they were barely visible. Her brows furrow, a scowl taking place of her confident grin from earlier. Mystic eyes were a pain in the ass. Always felt like her head was under tons of pressure every time. Of course, it faded after a moment. She blinks several times, shaking her head and continuing onward.

The night air was crisp and refreshing in comparison to the cellar. The front doors to the manor swing open with ease, and Veronica pauses just a moment, staring out over the courtyard. In the distance, there's the faint glow of headlights driving through heavy fog. The gate to the manor slides open, the magical barriers shimmering and deactivating as the limousine pulls up by the driveway. Good, for a moment she thought the car would have been denied entrance. The young Barthomeloi zips up her jacket, her gloved hands sealed inside her pockets for warmth. It wasn't too cold old, nothing like the family vacation home off in Europe. That place was freezing year round in comparison to this city.

The door to the limo swings open, and she steps into it, taking a seat on the plush leather, waiting on Gilgamesh to enter as well before signaling for departure.

[Gilgamesh]

Gilgamesh was pleased to see his Master return the confidant facial expression in response to his words. In the end, Gilgamesh actually believed his own words...and the scary part was that he spoke the truth: he could win any holy grail war. In fact, had certain variables not come into the equation during the Fourth and Fifth Heaven's Feels, Gilgamesh certainly would have been capable of winning either war in the seven days of a week. There was no Servant Gilgamesh could not beat, but - as he had learned at the hands and sword of Arturia Pendragon - this fact did not make him completely unbeatable, as one might erroneously assume. Still, he planned on learning from his mistake in the Fifth Holy Grail War: he would not let his guard down again. Though, one could also not expect him to take every opponent seriously. After all, Gilgamesh's defeat had been a bit of a fluke...there was no doubt whatsoever about that.

Gilgamesh remained unaware of his Master's past, for now...and unaware of her rebellious nature in regards to the narrow-minded, dogmatic views of her family. He had his own reasons to be excited about his role in the upcoming Holy Grail War. After all, he now knew that the Holy Grail must surely exist somewhere in Fuyuki City. If the Holy Grail did not exist at all, then no Servant would be able to manifest, period. That meant all Gilgamesh had to do was wait, and bide his time as this woman's Servant. He would become her sword and shield for as long as necessary, because the grand prize vastly overshadowed any cost. Everything in the world was his, and even the Holy Grail could prove useful, as he had discovered once before. He would need to allow the Holy Grail to manifest itself, and then...he would bathe in the mud of the grail and once more possess a flesh and blood body unbound by a contract. He would then decide whether or not Veronica had kept him amused enough to merit letting her live. After all, she was a good prana source already...and if she continued to assume that role, then Gilgamesh knew there was nothing to be gained from killing her, or even allowing her death.

“Excellent! Well, I suppose there's no reason to stick around here anymore!” His Master cheerfully exclaimed, withdrawing her hand from his own and turning to exit the cellar. Gilgamesh returned his hand to his side, and began to walk after her for now, interested in following her at least until he saw where she planned on staying during the Seventh Heaven's Feel. Veronica informed him that there was a car waiting on them at the front gates. Gilgamesh could tell Veronica felt beholden to the chauffeur's schedule, apparently, and this fact visibly displeased him. He did opt to follow her, but unlike his Master he maintained his leisurely gait and surveyed the interior corridors of the manor.

"You said it yourself, Veronica." Giilgamesh calmly stated, no agitation in his voice, despite the subtle frown on his face. "This 'car' is supposed to wait on you, not the other way around. Allow your transport to wait. It is the privilege of upper class citizens, after all, to enjoy the luxury of leisure. Don't rush yourself on behalf of a plebeian, Veronica...it is unbecoming of you. Rather, of anyone who calls themselves my Master." He concluded, stubbornly maintaining a slower pace to assert his viewpoint: the car in question would be expected to wait upon its passengers. It was as he said this that he noticed her eyes changing slightly. He had no trouble recognizing the magecraft behind those eyes; he knew immediately that his Master was not only blessed with blood, but also with Mystic Eyes of some kind or another. He did not comment on this, though, even as they exited the mansion together and the limousine began to pull up the long drive.

When the car came to a stop, engine purring slightly while the driver idled long enough for his noble passenger to enter, Gilgamesh noticed his Master approaching the car. Another small frown. He found it disturbing that his Master felt the need to walk to the vehicle, when she dared presume herself above others. Still, he said nothing to her regarding this matter, and followed quietly. Gilgamesh did consider the inside of the back seat of the limo comfortable. He slid into the seat opposite his Master, back to both the driver and the middle of the car. He did not buckle up, of course. He had no reason to do so. Still, he now felt comfortable speaking to his Master, unsure and uncaring if the driver could hear them.

"You undervalue yourself, Veronica. If you truly insist on existing within a higher social plane than others, then do so. Is this carriage of yours considered common in this world or society? I know what a 'car' is, but...I don't ever remember seeing cars like this one." He conceded, though besides that question he would say nothing unless spoken to, likely until he and his Master arrived at their destination.

[Veronica Barthomeloi]

"You undervalue yourself, Veronica. If you truly insist on existing within a higher social plane than others, then do so. Is this carriage of yours considered common in this world or society? I know what a 'car' is, but...I don't ever remember seeing cars like this one."

She had listened silently, although seeming thinking on other matters. “My apologies. I was merely in a rush to leave from this estate, although I made it seem as if I was bound by the schedule of our chauffeur. You have no need to worry, if anything, he's following my schedule. I didn't want to hassle you with my family, should they arrive home early. They're not the best company.” Her voice sounds disgruntled, but it obviously wasn't directed towards her new Servant. “In terms of undervaluing myself, you could say that as a flaw on my part.” her previous emotions fade, and she seems more amused by him evaluating her in such a manner. Of course, she knew that he'd want a Master that would be worthy of his presence, and she accepts his advice.

“This car is far from common. Usually, a common car would be much smaller then this. Also, I would be the one driving rather then having a personal employee do it for me. These cars are called limousines, we'll be using this one quite often to get from place to place. Don't worry, this is a luxury reserved for higher class.” She relaxes against the seating, crossing one leg over the other, obviously comfortable. “There's some wine and champagne available, if you want any.” The Barthomeloi presses a button on a console next to her, an icebox sliding open next to Gilgamesh, along with several chilled glasses. “There are other drinks as well, if the ones present don't appeal to your tastes.” She doesn't bother with any. Veronica was below the drinking age, and it didn't appeal to her as much as some would expect.

The car speeds off from the manor, and Veronica watches as the gate closes behind him. She sighs heavily, although she seems much more tense then earlier. Who could blame her? This was the farthest she had even been. She swallows down her anxiety. During her early years, she was told that the world outside the manor was a dark, depressing place. At the moment, she didn't know if that was the truth, or lies to keep her in line. Well, she sure as hell wasn't going to head back. In a way, she was excited as well. She was the youngest Barthomeloi to leave from the manor. Mind you, it was an escape, but eh.

She stiffens suddenly, her eyes narrowing into slits as another headlights appear in the distance. The Barthomeloi its up slightly, one hand clenched into a fist. Well, this would be interesting. The other limousine passes by them, and Veronica feels her hair stand on end. It was almost glowing from the magical energy coming from the vehicle. It dwarfed her own, and would be enough to make any magi quiver. Veronica, on the other hand scowls. Looks like her family was bringing back some friends. Good. In comparison, Veronica's prana outmatched everyone of them individuality, but with them all together, it was an overwhelming force.

She watches the car as it passes them, and a smirk grows on her lips as she watches the other limousine screech to a halt. Looks like they figured out where she was. “Took them long enough.” She mutters, propping herself on one knee to look out the window. The other limousine spins around on the dime, charging after their car. Veronica doesn't react strongly to this. Rather, she sighs. “Obitus. May thy gale slice down opposition.” She rolls down the window, moving her hand outside. The wind gathers into her palm with ease. Thin razors form in an instant, and she flicks her wrist towards the speeding vehicle. The razors spin off, the wheels of the limousine popping as they make contact. It skids to the other side of the road, and Veronica shakes her head, her hand outside the window flipping off the passengers before returning to the car.

“Well, I'm disappointed.” The window is rolled up again, and the new Master crosses her arms. All she had to do now was wait for them to arrive at the destination.

TOPIC FINISHED

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