Lancer, Yukimura Sanada
Quickly the hero was formed, to stand there before the one who arranged the process. But appearing within that circle of blood was not what one would normally expect if they knew the name of the one who stood there. Normally one would think of a man when they heard the name Yukimura Sanada. Due to the way modern stories unfolded, the usual idea was a hot blooded young man with dark hair, wielding one or two spears. Dressed in the signature red that they were known for, talking loudly and moving with a heat to their actions.
But standing there was nothing of the sort. Instead it was a young woman with long black hair that turned a fiery red close to the ends, and rather than let it sit normally it was tied up into a ponytail that spread out behind her back. Holding that ponytail up was a white ribbon, or so it appeared. Rather it was a white headband that also was tied around to the front of her forehead, hiding underneath the black turning red bangs resting there.
Peering at the man from her own spot with two dark red eyes the girl shifted. The height of the girl was luckily not obvious at first glance. If anything, it had to range within the area of five foot two to five foot four. The expression the Hero gave him was now cold. A questioning sort of look, as it came together.
She raised her hands before her face, taking a moment to open and close them as it made sense. Her thoughts drifted to the Holy Grail War, and her own placement here. Truly this meant her actions had been remembered. Her mark on history had succeeded or failed well enough to be remembered even to this day. As well the modern era was different from her own.
Taking a deep breath, she quickly examined herself while she had the chance too. She wasn’t going to keep the Magus waiting long, but she did need a moment after all. It was an unusual experience to become a Servant after all. Her body was skinnier than she liked, but that wasn’t any different from before. A thin agile body could be a good thing, though it did make it harder to show off any form of strength using muscle or take pride in one’s bodily development.
Her black top clung to the upper half of her torso, leaving the stomach and arms free, as the rest armor piece on top was secure, holding the cords that kept her shoulder pads in place as well. The bands on her arms were secure, holding on with the red guard over her right forearm was present. She noted her socks were uneven as one went up to her thigh while the other only stopped on her shin, but didn’t make much of it as her focus was on the red footwear under them.
And lastly was confirming her skirt. Black with a white line, the front showing but the back hidden by the long red cloth that bore the symbol of her clan, metal piece at the top with the guard over the front. At the center and top were the six coins that she was familiar with.
Having confirmed herself, she looked up to the man who was likely going to claim to be her Master. Her emotions were running wild as she considered it already. She was going to be at war once more, this time with the greatest legends that surpassed her own. Those who were truly heroic and had earned their right to be household names all over the world.
Heart rate increasing, she took a deep breath before speaking. It had to be perfect after all, but with no hesitation. She wanted someone reliable and that she could count on in this war. But most of all, she wanted someone who would direct her accordingly. No matter what though she had been called, and she would obey the person standing before her if he was indeed the one who was giving her this chance.
“I am the Servant Lancer! I have answered your call! Would you be the one claiming the honor of calling yourself my Lord?”
And immediately she felt like she had messed up. If anything she had meant to ask if he was her master in a less formal manner. And only now had she taken in the surroundings of the attic. Most of all she had only taken in something at that moment. She felt stronger than she should be. Perhaps it was due to this being her home country, or perhaps she was more powerful than she had realized. But either way that had not been expected.
Mostly though she was worried now that she came off somewhat overconfident in herself. Too late to change her words though, she followed up by pointing strongly at the man who stood before her, arm at her side, while displaying a serious expression that was to convey the intention that she would not forgive him if he was an enemy instead.
@Breo
