Maiya keeps moves away at a circular angle, taking her out of the range of pistols before firing again, forcing Killer Bean to duck down behind his car for cover. Killer Bean flips onto the roof of his car, pistols in hand and returns fire. Luckily for them, I happen to be a problem solver.” He reaches for his desert eagles, a move which isn’t lost on Maiya who opens fire. “You’ve been causing some very powerful people a whole lotta problems. The thing, whatever it is, looks at Maiya unimpressed. It looks like a giant baked bean with googly eyes and a mouth stuck onto it. Whatever the hell she’s looking at ain’t human, although it is dressed in human clothing.
Killer bean driver#
As the driver door opens and the occupant steps out, Maiya’s determined look is replaced with that of confusion. The car is black with silver chrome wheels, clearly this car is for somebody who wants to show off.
She throws herself out of the way as the car drifts to a stop, rolling up into a crouch with her Steyr aimed squarely at the driver side door. The same car noises from before starting up again but this time they are much closer and as she looks over to investigate a car screeches round one of the containers, heading right for her. Looking through the scope of her Steyr at the large crane looming over the yard, she can see that it would make a good sniping spot although probably only good for one shot before someone noticed the shooter. In the distance she can hear the sound of a car whizzing past, probably some boy racer by the sound it’s making but she ignores it. She takes careful note of where and how the containers are stacked as well as any cranes, fork trucks and other machinery which could prove useful. Maiya Hisau is scouting out the area on Kiritsugu’s orders as it could make a good place for battle in the upcoming grail war. In the harbours main shipping yard however, there is someone lurking in the shadows. It’s a wet and stormy night in Fuyuki City and most of the residents are tucked away safely in bed. “If only Mothman was still working here,” he says sighing. Looking over at the pile of eviction letters a flicker of annoyance passes over his face. I’d enjoy eating her liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti,” he says to himself after she is out of earshot. “Not much meat on her but she looked fairly healthy.
I can however tell you that it is a one on one and it is against someone who hasn’t had a battle yet.” Maiya nods and walks off to her battle. “I can’t divulge that information I’m afraid. “Who am I fighting?” she asks flicking through the sheets. I would show you there myself but I have some mail to deliver.” He points to a stack of letters on the desk, which Maiya recognises as eviction letters. “You’re in transporter room C, which is through those double doors there, third door on the right. “Here is your battle form, it will tell you what weapons you have and what version of you is being used, if applicable,” he says handing over the clipboard to her. He turns around in his seat and takes several sheets of paper that have come spurting out of the printer, attaching them to a clipboard. “Not much of a talker, are you?” the man continues, still typing away at the computer. Is there a friend who has taken pity on you and let you stay with them?” Maiya doesn’t answer, whoever this creep is he doesn’t need to know that Kiritsugu has been letting her crash on his couch for the past two years. “Although you look to be in quite good shape for someone who has been living in the streets. You must be another one saved by the homeless relief scheme set up by our esteemed Prime Minister, Laquearius,” the man says a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It says here that you are currently homeless.
The man types in the name and his eyebrows raise in interest. Maiya hands over the letter she received and he sits down at the computer. “Well what do we have here,” he says his voice eerily calm. His most notable feature however is the big leather mask strapped across his face, covering his mouth with three metal bars. After a few moments a man walks out from a side office, his grey hair slicked back and his blue unblinking eyes looking her over. There is nobody behind the desk so she rings the bell. She pushes open the door and walks into the foyer and heads for the reception. Clutched in her left hand is her salvation, a concisely typed letter explaining that a battle has been found for her.
Killer bean registration#
Maiya looks up at the giant flashing neon sign which sits above the doorway of the Battle Registration and Contesting Bureau.
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