The girl couldn't remember how she had come to this alleyway. Certainly, she had to have walked here, but she didn't remember how or why. It wasn't where she wanted to be. It wasn't on the way to her destination. It wasn't some sort of shortcut. It was a desolate and isolated location where she felt completely alone in the dark. She had just been out with her friends, where had they all gone? She couldn't even see the moon from where she was. Why was she here? How had she gotten so lost? She'd walked these streets plenty of times, and yet she didn't even recognize this alleyway.

Part of her was cursing herself for staying out so late. But... shouldn't it have been fine? She had been surrounded by other people, and it had been so brightly lit. There shouldn't have been anything that could have gone wrong.

And yet now she was here. Now she was alone in a nearly pitch-black alleyway, that seemed to stretch long enough in both ways that she could just barely see the light on the street. But... at least this gave her a destination, didn't it? If she could just get to the light, she'd be out of this horrible alleyway.

The girl took a deep breath, steeling her nerves before making her way as quickly as she could towards the light. For a while, it almost seemed as if she wasn't making any progress, but slowly, slowly, the pinpoint of light began to grow. It felt as if it was taking hours to reach it, but she was getting there.

Where had she even gotten lost? Where was this?

Heart hammering in her chest, the girl pushed herself onward. She had to escape this terrible alley. She had to get back to her friends and let them know she was okay.

But then...

It was getting harder to see. But it wasn't getting darker.

Fog. There was fog rolling in around her. Suddenly mist was filling the alleyway and obscuring the light she had been striving for. How had something like this happened?! It was a perfectly clear night, and now... now she was lot in the fog, so thick that she could barely see her hands in front of her face.

"... I-is anyone there?" she called, finally, desperately, "Th-this isn't funny, it's not! J-just... if this is some kind of prank... I..."

There was a noise behind her. Wide-eyed, the girl immediately grabbed her phone.

Before she could attempt to call emergency services, to call someone, a jolt went through her spine as she felt fingertips run down her back.

There was a voice.

"I must take everything you have."

There was a searing blast of pain through her torso and abdomen. For a few scant moments, she could see them, her internal organs splayed across the ground, barely visible through the mist.

And then...

Nothing.

---

It was midday.

For those who undertook lessons at the Tower, London's prestigious Mage Circle, this meant for some that they were attending a lecture. For others, it meant they were finishing up their work for the day. Students were currently walking the halls, be it to make their way to another class, to study, or to return to their dorms, or perhaps their homes if they lived close by. The myriad of magi in-training filled the halls and many of the rooms.

There was one hallway in particular that was less occupied. Shafts of light shown in through the windows, though from the outside the building itself wouldn't even be visible. Given the day's brightness, the lamps lining the top of the hall were dimmed.

Walking through this hallway, however, were two notable figures.

One was a petite blonde girl, childish in appearance, wearing grey-blue clothing. The other was a somewhat taller, though still not by much, silvery-haired girl, trailing her movements.

"I wonder if they're all squirming in their seats as I keep them waiting~" mused the blonde girl, a small smile on her lips as she spoke, "I wish I could see, but it's difficult to be in two places at once."

She shrugged to herself, with a mock sigh. The magi she had recently called into her service via contract had all been ordered to meet in one of the Tower's lounges, a place usually reserved for relaxing and studying between classes. Normally, she would have asked them to meet at her home, but in this case it was simply easier to summon them to the west lounge rather then take a detour to her mansion.

Arinne Velvet Ar-Rynesarte wanted to have something of a discussion. Recent events in London had caught her attention, after all. A certain figure appearing in the news.

This Jack the Ripper of 2019.

"Well, as long as they all show up," the small blonde said, waving her hand as she did. If they didn't, well, there would be consequences. The contracts forged by her family certainly weren't impotent, after all. It was right in the terms. As the head of the Ar-Rynesarte, she was able to call them to meet whenever she desired, to watch them squirm under her command. That thought was always exciting to the girl.

But there was a goal she was chasing beyond simply seeing those beneath her struggle.

Arinne paused for a moment, glancing back towards the girl trailing her.

"I've had some tea and biscuits delivered to the room for the both of us, Saturday," she stated, "It won't do to go without a snack."

They would be there when Arinne and Saturday arrived, of course.

Soon enough, both girls reached the dark oak door to the west lounge. Without being touched, it simply opened inwards on its own. The lounge itself was lit with small lamps and candles, featuring a soft red carpet and numerous large, cushioned chairs, and a long dark table in the center. Indeed, on it was the plate of biscuits and freshly-brewed tea, just as Arinne had ordered.

Of course, there were the occupants of the room as well.

"Hello there," said Arinne, with a wave of her hand as she took her seat on a red velvet armchair, crossing her legs and cocking her head to one side, "Have you been waiting long? Fufu, I don't really care if you have~"

She waved her hand dismissively.

"But, I wonder... can any of you guess why it is I called you all here today so suddenly?"

@Rin@Anza@Rabidporcupine@Chi@Aviaire@Bartimaeus@TheFake

"Something about a murderer, I presume. You haven't exactly been quiet about your intentions, Lady Ar-Rynesarte."

The first to answer was a tall woman in a fashionable black coat, leaning back in an old wooden chair. A platinum blonde, languid and elegant, who looked so entirely at ease with the situation that one might have thought she'd called this meeting herself.

(She hadn't, of course. She'd arrived two minutes prior and had quickly claimed her seat, pointedly ignoring everyone present and flipping open a small paperback book, which now rested open in one long-fingered hand.)

"And the fact that you've gone into the trouble of calling us here," she continued, meeting Arinne's eyes, "means you've found a lead." One corner of her mouth quirked upward, a half-smile. "Am I correct?"

@VitaVitaAR

Arinne entered the room, and Saturday followed behind her.

...Even though she'd met some of these people before, she still felt awkward around them. Really, "met" was about all she'd done with them. She'd never really talked to them, after all. Even if she'd tried to, she wouldn't have really gotten far. Arinne was the only person she could talk at length with, and with anyone else the most she could really get out were a few mumbles before she had to make herself scarce. People were just... Not her strong point.

It was so much easier to deal with dead people, really.

Silently, she took a seat as close to Arinne's as possible and hunched down in her chair, shoulders sunk and head lowered as she quietly took a jammy dodger and began munching on it like a mouse. Really, she already knew everything Arinne was going to say... Why was she even here? Couldn't she just... Get to work already? It would be far less awkward than having to deal with all this...

“Is the lead's name Jack the Ripper?” Jun muttered as he entered the conversation.

Previously resting his head on the table while waiting for the Ar-Rynesarte kid, Jun straightened his back and leaned back on the chair “If the meeting is about anything else this would be quite the coincidence” he said dryly. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, the only real question was their roles in whatever the girl was planning, though he decided to keep that question to himself until their host gave her explanation.

He sure didn’t like to have to spend his time repaying his grandfather’s favors, especially considering that he hadn't had any contact with any members of the family in years, but he wasn’t stupid enough to go against a binding contract, even more so regarding one made by the Ar-Rynesarte family. Some of the other magi there looked competent so Jun hoped that whatever they would do be smooth sailing from beginning to end.

@VitaVitaAR

@VitaVitaAR

It was only upon hearing Arinne's voice that Leonardo jumped awake, having drifted of to sleep due to both the length of time he'd been waiting and a particularly nasty case of jet lag. He looked around the room and noticed a few things. The first was the girl Luna had told him about, Arinne Ar-Rynesarte, standing in the room with a Homunculus of her own, and he decided she was probably the voice that had woken him up. The second was that there were significantly more people in the lounge than there were when he had fallen asleep. Like, at least four more.

And the third was that there was now a delectable-looking plate of biscuits on the table, which in turn caused him to realise how hungry he currently was.

He didn't even think twice before he pushed himself to his feet and took one.

"Hey, hi, I'm awake." He said, as if to reassure everyone that he really was, in fact, awake. "So you're my boss now? A little short, but I've met enough scary short people that I won't judge."

He took a bite out his biscuit, before continuing to spe-oh wow those biscuits were good.

"Anyway, I guess we're here to catch a murderer?" He half said half asked, looking around at all the other people who'd already said so. "I'll admit, I don't know all that much about the situation here. My plane only landed last night, so you're probably gonna need to fill me in on all the juicy deets."

As he spoke, he stuffed the rest of the biscuit in his mouth.

"Also, on an unrelated note, fishing in the Thames, legal or illegal?"

Effie had been sitting in her chair for some time now, perhaps for the longest out of all of those in the room. She didn't mind though. She had been - and still was - entertaining herself with tea and biscuits, which were rather good. For the first time in much too long, the Dalraan heir was out of the house, and without her father, too. It was nothing short of a miracle, that the contracts would be called in while he was so unwell.

Effie had been quietly observing the others in the room as they came in (rather unsubtly), staring at them with her wide grey eyes. She hadn't had any expectations, but she wasn't disappointed. When Arinne entered, tailed by a girl with odd silver hair, Effie smiled and waved at them, before going back to her tea. She sat there and listened for a minute or two before she finally spoke up.

"I think you can, in some places. Oh! But you should look it up, just in case," Effie said, smiling. She leaned over to pick up another biscuit (how many had she had now?). "But yes, I would like to know some more details. You see, I don't really know much of this 'Jack the Ripper' either."

This, however, was not because of flights or foreigners. As a matter of fact, Effie had lived in London for a lot of her life. She had a much simpler, though somewhat embarrassing, excuse: no one had told her about it.

Steepling her fingers and resting her elbows on her knees, Arinne listened as a few of her servants attempted to answer. To their credit, by and large they were correct. The reason she had summoned them without even waiting to return home was because of the recent string of serial killings in London. But it wasn't any fun to simply come out and say it directly. She wanted to get a sense of what those under her contracts actually knew. One of them, Mister Murakami, had displayed that he at least knew the name of the one the small blonde was targeting, but did anyone know anything else?

"That much is obvious, I suppose, isn't it?" Arinne mused, sitting up straighter and waving one hand in the air as she did, "But, I wonder..."

She trailed off for a few moments, kicking her feet as she did. The girl glanced towards Saturday, noting the way she seemed to shrink down in her seat, and reached out with one hand to pat her on her head.

"Oh dear, are you feeling shy?" she commented, "Just like a kitten getting introduced to new people for the first time~ Ah, but if everyone sees such an endearing sight, they might fall for you, Saturday. That simply wouldn't do."

Seeing the silver-haired girl's reaction to that was bound to be amusing.

Placing her free hand to her mouth, the short blonde giggled, still petting Saturday's head, before reaching down and claiming a custard cream for herself. When she noted that Leonardo had taken one of the biscuits for himself, her eyes narrowed. Not only that, but the Dalraan heir, Euphemia, had had quite a few as well.

"... Now, where ever does it say that these are for everyone?" she commented. To be truthful, she didn't necessarily believe that they were wrong in thinking anyone could have some of the biscuits and tea to themselves, but it would be more entertaining if she lead them to believe they did not. Besides, she had ordered them for Saturday and herself in the first place, hadn't she? Not only that, but Leonardo had called her short as well. So clearly she was well within her rights to to mess with her servants as a little bit of punishment. "Isn't that rather rude?"

She cocked her head to one side, then let out an exaggerated sigh.

"But for now... Indeed, I'm talking about this killer. This Jack the Ripper of 2019," Arinne said, "But you're all supposed to be my servants, aren't you? What can you tell me about him~?"

It hadn't exactly been kept quiet. Particularly, her eyes were now on those who hadn't spoken yet. The man who had been serving as her bodyguard for a considerable amount of time, and the one of the other magi who had been brought here by contract.

As for 'Jack the Ripper of 2019', there wasn't that much known about the killer as of yet. But something that they might have known was that the killings were highly unusual. All young women, aged between fifteen to twenty-five. Three so far. But the strangest part was, by far, the fact that all of their internal organs were missing.

Without any visible incision made to extract them.

"... As for fishing in the Thames, I'm not exactly the type, you know?"

@Anza@Rin@Chi@Rabidporcupine@Aviaire@Bartimaeus@TheFake

Already inside of the room, Saint leaned against the wall by the door with his arms crossed. He had been standing there since before the first of the house representatives had arrived, ignoring the food and attempts at conversation. His hands rested near the daggers he carried as he examined the occupants of the room.

Despite himself he managed to restrain himself from following Arrine around the Tower, especially with Saturday present. So he waited, looking over each guest as they arrived. As they entered he was aware of every weapon they carried and piece of metal on them.

He met his master's eyes as she stared at him, unflinching. Then he sighed and rolled his shoulders.

“We have little aside from what is commonly known. The most interesting part is what we don’t have. No witnesses, no trace evidence or much signs of struggle. And with no wounds we have no idea of the sort of weapon or spell that is being used. Right now we only have the barest hint at some sort of motive regarding the internal organs and perhaps an Affinity in a similar vein.”

@Anza@Rin@Chi@Rabidporcupine@Aviaire@Bartimaeus@VitaVitaAR

---

A slender, well-dressed man affixed his equally-slender glasses more securely to the bridge of his nose as he observed the others in the room. There was not much conversation; they, for the most part, seemed to be contemplating their reasons for being summoned inwardly. That is, until she entered the room.

Arinne Ar-Rynesarte.

She addressed the room curtly, before asking of them if they knew their reason for being called. A couple of the others - most notably a woman clad in dark, and a younger man with long black hair - poked at the question with their own input. Others, taking a more carefree approach. It seemed even, that one young lady was not even aware of the recent scandal that was plaguing the streets.

Samuel Kissinger stepped forward from his leaning position against the wall, opposite of Arinne's chair.

"Madam Arinne Ar-Rynesarte." he addressed the young woman, accompanying it with a deep bow; his right hand folded inward over his abdomen, the left hand half-stretched out to his side. "An honor, of course." he said as he stood again.

"It is indeed a worrying predicament our streets are in, I must say." he started, "However...as we can see, there are quite a few of us present today. More than would be needed for a simple rogue mage." he said, raising his eyebrows at the youngest amongst them.

He placed his hands behind his back as he slowly strolled a few steps forward, meeting the edge of the crude circle the group would have formed. "And, yes...he or she does appear to be a mage, due to the nature of all the victims' wounds. Upon first hearing this odd piece of information - it seems organ displacement may be the culprit. Were it to be organ displacement, the perpetrator would need a respectable degree of medical knowledge - just like Jack the Ripper of the eighteenth century."

He circled around the nearest unoccupied chair until he stood in front of it, facing the young Ar-Rynesarte. "The targets are principally the same, demographically - as his or her moniker suggests.."

He made slightly to sit down, before stopping himself with a look of remembrance on his face. Standing straight, he turned towards the middle of the room. "If you do not know, my name is Samuel. Samuel Kissinger. A pleasure to meet each of you." he said, meeting the room with a much less showy bow than before; a slight bend forward and a head tilt, before he sat down.

"If we are intending to apprehend the culprit with as little information as we have seemingly obtained, then we will have to do some reading between the lines - despite what we have or not." he finished, folding his hands as he listened to any input the others could have.

Having been summoned so abruptly was a little perplexing, to say the least. Not to mention, it was a contract Samuel was not even aware of. It seemed his 'father' had been a bit mischievous while he was still around. Spiteful bugger.

Well, it didn't matter any way. Samuel was rarely one to turn down an opportunity to help others and potentially improve himself in the same turn. Not that this contract left him with much say in the matter - but even so. One thing you couldn't accurately say about the Kissinger family was that they half-ass'd anything.

The Ar-Rynesarte lady was as charming as he had expected, and some of his co-workers, which seemed like the appropriate moniker to use now that they were all apparently servants for the kid, were proving to be somewhat eccentric too. Thankfully the conversation hadn't derailed into good fishing spots in London yet, though that would perhaps be a less troublesome topic to discuss than a serial killer.

“Continuing on that train of thought" Might as well voice my opinion "If we do go by the assumption that the culprit is inspired by the original Jack the Ripper, then we should probably see letters being sent sooner or later, given that’s how the story goes. If that were to happen then we would have an important clue to identify him, but we’re basically looking for a needle in a haystack until then" London was a big city after all and Jack's target demographic was the opposite small in terms of population, so it would be just a waste of time and resources.

He directed his next words to Arinne "Which brings back Mr. Kissinger’s question of what exactly are we doing here. I‘d like to think we aren’t going to be running like headless chickens hoping to stumble into the killer by pure luck”

Saturday couldn't help but tremble slightly as she felt Arinne's hand on her head. How could she be so... So... So like that in front of all these people? She wouldn't mind it nearly as much if it wasn't for all of them... And the things she said! Saturday definitely wasn't like a kitten! Kittens weren't... Kittens weren't like her, and she wasn't like a kitten. Even if it felt nice to have Arinne pet her like this...

But no, no she definitely wasn't like a kitten. And there was no way anyone else would... She belonged to the Ar-Rynesarte family. She belonged to... No-one else. That was that and that was all there ever would be. Her life belonged to Mistress Arinne, and no-one else was allowed to... To f-f-fall... For her...

The poor girl was so overwhelmed in her thoughts tht she could barely pay attention to what Arinne was even saying right now. Really, it was probably for the best that she'd went over it with her earlier this morning. Anxiously, she began nibbling on another biscuit, and another, and one more... Really, she just hoped this would all be over soon.

The journey from her house to the Tower's headquarters was longer than Grain anticipated it would be. While most of her lateness could be attributed to bad traffic conditions, a part of it lied on her for not leaving earlier. It was nothing short of a dishonor to be late in general and a much bigger one when coming to the aid of a friend.

"Apologies for my lateness, Lady Ar-Rynesarte. If it's your wish, I shall offer any compensation you ask for," Grain said as she entered the lounge.

After coming in late, Grain didn't feel that it was correct to take a seat. Unless she was told so, she would stand close to a wall. Likewise, unless she was asked to speak by someone else, she would keep silent, observing the others.

Grain already expected Arinne's servants -- like Paul and Saturday -- to be in her company. However, what surprised her was the lack of any other representatives of the great noble houses that the Ar-Rynesarte were acquainted with. Had they failed, or refused, to answer her call or were they just late as well? Or, maybe had Arinne picked those commoners to keep her plans out of the prying eyes of the other Lords? But, if that's so, why was her family called here? There was no way that she could keep away from scrutiny after requesting help from a Knight Captain like Grain's father.

There was only one way to know. But it wasn't like Grain would ask about it either...

Effie watched the newcomer enter with the discretion she had used for the others, which was to say, with none at all. While some of her new allies were older than her, some by a considerable degree, some of them seemed pretty young. But then again, contracts didn't have an age limit on them. If they were willing to go, they could go.

She didn't know any of them, which came as no surprise, but the name Kissinger did ring a couple of bells. From that, as well as the way as the others held themselves, there really were some high class names in the room. Including herself, clearly. Perhaps they would not know her face, not many would, but they would recognise her name. Which she had forgotten to tell them. She sighed to herself, leaning forward to get another biscuit. There would always be another opportunity.

"Well, Miss Arinne, sharing is caring, is it not?" Effie said sweetly. Despite the possibly patronizing implications, she was being completely genuine. After all, why shouldn't she have another? There were still a considerable amount left, and it would be awful to have such nice biscuits go to waste.

"This does seem like an awful lot of people for just one murderer. I don't suppose it would be too forward to assume that there is more to this than you're telling us," she continued. "Oh, but it's lovely to meet you, Mister Samuel. And the rest of you, of course!"

Today had gotten off to a poor start: her intent had been to get to the meeting point before the others to at least talk with Arinne more normally... and object to the completely unnecessary invocation of the contract. Really, did she think so little of their friendship that it was necessary? All she had to do was but ask, and the other prodigy would have been at her surface with as many of the maids as were currently free to be borrowed from their duties.

But she had mistakenly thought that they would be meeting in Arinne's home, not thinking to double check the meeting point, and it was only upon her arrival there that Maria had been able to get her attention long enough to alter their course! Now instead of being early, she was going to arrive late... what a poor first impression for someone of her lineage to set...

The number of strangers in the room as Lillia burst in, trailed by a tall and elegant maid that--both through his powers and experience--Paul would know harboured a truly shocking number of sharp implements.

"I-I'm terribly sorry for my lateness," she said, somewhat out of breath, "Lillia Avemaria, reporting." She even gave a little curtsy at that, before the white-haired girl attempted to not attract any more attention: sidling up to beside Saturday and picking a biscuit herself, with Maria positioning herself by the door.

At least Saturday was as adorable as ever...

The woman in the black coat smiled a little when Arinne confirmed her hypothesis, but otherwise kept quiet as the others each spoke their piece. Her eyes drifted slowly towards Paul, watching him as carefully as he watched everyone else.

As the conversation wore on, however, with late arrivals gradually showing up to interrupt, her patience seemed to wear thin. She closed her book, setting it down by her side, and leaned forwards, clearing her throat. "Is this everyone? Surely we're not missing any more, are we?" Her sharp gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to disagree. "Good. Then as the Lady commanded, let me share with you what I know so far."

"Kissinger here was kind enough to share with us the basics, but allow me to add a little context, here. Organ theft is hardly an uncommon practice— both magi and mundane humans have built up extensive black markets for that kind of goods. For the most part, though, they're professionals, careful to pick their targets and dispose of them properly." She spread her arms. "If a homeless man living on the streets, or some child from a developing country disappears one day, nobody notices, nobody cares. That's how they operate."

"But this case is different. These young women weren't easy targets, they were people with friends, people with families. They didn't disappear, they were found after being killed. Whoever this killer is, they're doing a poor job of hiding their tracks. That means they're new, inexperienced, not a professional criminal but, as Mr. Kissinger put it, a rogue."

She held up one hand, two fingers and a thumb splayed out. "Thus, I predict one of three possible motives. One, they're psychotic, a madman or madwoman doing this for fun and sport. Much like the original Jack the Ripper." One finger curled inwards, leaving two digits raised. "Two, they're a would-be criminal, wanting to get into the organ-trafficking business but lacking the experience and connections to do so through the proper channels. A small-timer, pushed to despicable acts by their own foolish greed." Her thumb curled, leaving only her index finger pointing upwards. "Three... they're desperate. A person who needs organs to save themselves or a loved one, but lacks the financial means to acquire them on the black market. And so, they go after any matching targets they can find, heedless of the trail they're leaving behind them."

Her last finger curled, leaving only a fist, which she gently lowered to her lap. "The question that sticks out to me, though, is why the Lady Ar-Rynesarte should care." Her eyes fixed on those of the young family head. "This is hardly the first serial killer to haunt the streets of London. In time, they will be caught by the proper authorities. And, while awful, their activities are not a threat to the upper echelons of the Tower." Her head tilted to one side, one eyebrow arching upwards. "Is it a sudden bout of empathy that afflicts you, perchance? Or has something led you to believe that this case may be of more... personal interest?"

Upon noting that so many people were sampling the biscuits that she had ordered specifically for herself and Saturday, Arinne narrowed her eyes in irritation. At least glancing towards Saturday made her somewhat less annoyed.

"Next time I'll order a batch laced with Bitrex and dead spiders," she commented, loud enough to be heard. Not simply due to annoyance, but also because the idea of her servants worriedly checking any food well before eating it was incredibly amusing to her. There was also pair of late arrivals, the lady knight Grain Blackmore and someone she knew from her childhood, Lillia Avemaria. Naturally, the both of them would need some further clarification on just what was occurring.

"In any case, for the tardy ones," she added, leaning back in her seat, "We've been discussing that murderer. Jack the Ripper of 2019. As as been discussed, the killer has used some form of magic in order to displace the victims' organs from inside their bodies, as Miss Selas stated. As for why I'm so interested, well..."

She shrugged.

What was left unsaid was one of the most clear reasons for Arinne's personal interest in this killer: Her parents had been killed with magic that attacked the interior of their bodies while leaving the exterior unscathed.

"As Mister Kissinger said, medical knowledge and magical knowledge both would be required for this method of killing, especially to do it so swiftly and thoroughly that there is little opportunity for a struggle," continued the small blonde, "With consideration to displacement sorcery combined with medical knowledge, well... I rather think it's unlikely this is simply any random mage, even if they are new to crime and desperate."

She cocked her head to one side, with a smile.

"Such knowledge combined with potent magic of such a narrow field... I wonder where ever such a mage could spend their time, and what profession they could hold?"

She didn't directly state it, but Arinne's suspicions weren't exactly subtle.

She suspected a member of the Tower's faculty. No-one specific as of yet...

"But there's no way to find out more information without seeing the crime scene for ourselves."

One hand returned to Saturday's head, stroking her hair lightly as she did.

"Fufu, you're just devouring those biscuits... are you a kitten, or a hamster? Just how many of those have you eaten, now?" she asked, suddenly breaking from her more serious discussion, "Beware, Saturday, of gaining weight. What would I do with you if you became squishy? Use you as a cushion?"

Of course, she didn't expect Saturday was at risk of such a thing, but the amusement of seeing her reaction to having such things said about her in front of so many people was enough motivation.

"But matters of Saturday's cuteness aside, we're going to be visiting the crime scenes," stated Arinne, her attention returning to the room at large. "Myself, Saturday, Lillia, and Mister St. John visit the site of the first murder, Miss Selas, Mister Kissinger, and Lady Blackmore will visit the second, and Miss Dalraan, Mister Murakami, and Mister Vadris will visit the site of the third."

Arinne steepled her fingers once more, leaning forward.

"That's the best way to gather more information, you see."

@TheFake@Raineh Daze@Aviaire@KoL@Rin@Chi@Bartimaeus@Rabidporcupine@Anza

Grain shuddered inwardly as she heard Arinne's threat, or because of the other girl's quirkiness in general. It seemed that the others stoked her wrath for some reason. It was only expected when most of them didn't look like they were used to environments that required proper education and etiquette.

The arrival of none other than the daughter of the Avemaria household, caught Grain's attention. In fact, her eyes followed the Servant that came after Lilia with intensity for some reason.

Nevertheless, Grain's focus came back to the matters at hand once Arinne explained the reason why she summoned them here. "As you wish, Lady Ar-Rynesarte. It'll be my honor to escort your allies," she replied to Arinne's command in a soft, resolute voice.

@VitaVitaAR@Aviaire@KoL@Chi
"Yeah, I guess I'll have to..." Leo sighed as the girl said he should try to look up the legality of fishing in the Thames. "Dunno how though... Maybe they'll have a big book of laws at the court or something? Ah well, I'll figure something out..."

He drifted off for a little, only kind of listening to the others explain what was going on. However, he did notice when Arinne started grumbling to herself, glaring at the rest of them with narrowed eyes. It took him a few seconds before he figured out what she was grumpy about, eyes widening slightly before quickly being replaced with an impish smirk. Of course, this was quickly replaced with a grin that was a little less obvious, and he picked up one of the biscuits and walked over to the girl.

"Hey kiddo, I snagged you a biscuit. Probably shouldn'tve, too much sugar can be bad for young children after all, but I guess I'm just a bit of a bad influence. Only one though, otherwise you'll spoil your dinner!"

Of course, he knew exactly what he was doing, and that she'd probably be pissed. And of course, this was the goal. He already knew that this one would react gloriously should he manage to find an opening.

He also finally managed to look up at the newcomers, and for just a moment he actually felt a little nostalgic, a genuine smile appearing on his face. However, it was quickly hidden just as the others were, replaced by another smirk. He walked back to the plate of biscuits, grabbing one and chucking it to the swordswoman.

"Geez, lighten up a little will ya Gawain!" He called. "No need to be so formal, 'specially if we're all gonna be on a team together!"

He also passed a biscuit to the other kid, but he refrained from any smartass comments with her, pretty sure that teasing her would probably just leave him feeling like a jackass. And while he did consider mentioning something about the homunculus that had been piling the biscuits in like a goddamn cement mixer, he also got the feeling that, for some strange reason in the depths of his psyche, he really, really didn't want to...

And so, instead of doing any more teasing for now, he walked over to join the other two members of the group he'd been assigned to. One of them was the girl who had... well, at least she'd tried to help him figure out whether he could fish in the Thames or not, so she'd probably be easy enough to get along with. The other member, a young Japanese man, didn't look that bad either, and he was also one of the ones who seemed to know the most about the situation, so this might help out a lot.

And if he knew about that kind of thing...

"So, you look like you might know a lot about this place." Leo asked Jun. "Do you know about any good fishing spots around London? Just in case the Thames ends up being a dead end."

---

After nodding at Effie's response, Samuel looked at the various faces in the room from his chair towards the edge of the group. His gaze passed over the woman named Selas, as recognized by the Ar-Rynesarte girl. He didn't know her - she didn't even seem familiar. Odd, considering he was pretty in-the-loop when it came to relevant figures in the various Mage circles. If they were going to work together, he'd have a couple questions for her, at the least.
His scan settled on who he guessed was "Lady Blackmore", one of the few who were late. She seemed to be among the youngest in the room.

"A solid decision, Madam Ar-Rynesarte." he said as he nodded, turning his attention back to the girl. "Covering multiple scenes at one time should expedite our investigation well."

His eyes swept over the youngest individuals in the room once more. "But you know what they say. Criminals always return to the scene of the crime." He interlaced the fingers of his clasped hands. "So be cautious - regardless of whether the statement is true or not."

He partially blocked out the shenanigans of Mr. Leonardo, considering he didn't seem to be taking the situation all too seriously. Not to mention, he isn't much of a fisherman.

Thinking about it, this so-called "Jack the Ripper" had been rather... Inefficient. The way their victims were killed, hollowed out of all organs and left as an empty husk, clearly would've taken far more time than was really necessary. It wasn't clean or methodical, and with how slowly it would take it seemed like the killer was some kind of sadist. That was-

Once again, Saturday's trail of thought was interrupted by her mistress's teasing. Wh-what was that about... About her getting squishy? And Arinne using her as a... As a...

Reluctantly, Saturday put down her latest biscuit. And as the investigation teams were listed off, she curtly nodded and spoke for the first time since entering the room, although her voice was so soft and quiet that it was barely audible.

"Assignment confirmed, Mistress Arinne."

...And just for a moment, just long enough so that he would notice, her eyes focused sharply on the uncoath young man who had called her mistress a child. Even if it was in jest... For some reason, hearing him tease her like that made her feel something in her chest. Something hot, prickly and uncomfortable, something... Unfamiliar, but most unpleasant. Whatever it was, she'd have time to ruminate about it later.

@VitaVitaAR
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