[center][h2][color=aa8585]Beatrice LaForet[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
[color=aa8585]"Thanks, doll,"[/color] Beatrice replied offhandedly to the Overseer, raising a hand in farewell as she took her advice to beat a hasty retreat and made for the door to the side of the lectern. She spared one last glance to the woman, and then to the others at the other end of the church, 'the Lucias'. She'd have to keep an eye on those two: though as was the case with the discovery she'd passed on to the other representative, she had bigger fish to fry for now.

[color=#94b8b8]<Beatrice. Evidently one of them desires to talk.>[/color] And it seemed Lancer had a bite. Her head snapped back around to her path out of the church, and she left her curiosity about whatever arrangement they'd put forward to secure their interests to focus on her own, more immediate interest; getting out of here without getting ambushed by an enterprising Servant. [color=#94b8b8]<I'll humor him for a bit. Be careful when you leave.>[/color]

[color=aa8585]<On my way out now.>[/color] She responded, picking up her pace as she rifled through the ground floor of the Church's living quarters. The 'Lucia' she'd spoken to had mentioned focaccia, so the kitchen was presumably in use: sure enough, following the telltale smell of warm olive oil, rosemary and garlic led her to a small room nestled at the edge of the floor, near the staircase leading further up. Stepping inside, it was longer than it was wide, with a central island with all sorts of utensils and ingredients laid across it bisecting the room lengthways. To the one side of it was an impeccably clean and tidy sink, while to the other an assortment of pots and pans hung over a main unit with a range cooker, heat radiating out as the bread cooked inside. 

[color=aa8585]<We'll proceed as planned, keep him busy until I call you.>[/color] As promised, at the far end was a door out of the side of the church, overlooking the headstones of the site's graves. She stepped through the kitchen towards it, taking appreciable pain not to upset any of the preparations- she didn't trust the girl as far as she could throw her, but she wasn't a [i]savage[/i]- and was soon beyond it, heading into the warm evening outside. [color=aa8585]<See if you can get anything useful out of him in the meantime.>[/color]
[hr][center][h2][color=#C0C0C0]Archer[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
[color=silver]"Had the chance to meet any others of our number so far?"[/color] Archer asked the man pleasantly, as he stepped out from his hiding place at the other Servant's beckoning. In keeping with the spirit of the occasion, he carefully extended arn arm to offer him a cigarette from the still-open pack.

Well, he'd initiated contact knowing they were a veritable giant built like an underfed bear. All the same, he hadn't fully anticipated him to look and [i]feel[/i] the part too. Wild hair ran in myriad shades of iron, with dark eyes peering down at him from the scarred and gaunt face it framed. His head emerged from amidst a mass of heavy furs worn over tanned hide, hanging over his frame as such that it was hard to determine whether he was large or simply tall. Even with that, however, one thing was unmistakeable; he was [i]powerful[/i], with an unmistakeably intense aura that had been absent from the man he encountered before radiating from even this indifferent posture. 

The man's silence and presence was certainly such that one would be hard-pressed to fault Archer for falling back upon his initial assessment of him as the war's Berserker, and it was still within the realm of possibility. But he wasn't oblivious to what silence could articulate, and the man's expression spoke volumes. 

[color=silver]"Hmm. Shall I take that as a no?"[/color] Another pull, to steady himself. It wouldn't do to show any weakness; or worse yet, let the hulking bastard get to him.