[h2]Johanna Faust[/h2]

The magus had to suppress a twinge of disappointment at the initial summon, not for any rational reason--simply for, herself, being taller than the Servant that she had summoned. It was a reasonable thing to expect; historically most would have been shorter than herself and there was nothing that required heroes to be of any particular height. Strange, when Berserker identified his class; it was the number one Servant to expect imposing stature. There was another twitch of disappointment whilst looking at him--he was nearly as intrinsically identifiable as Faust would have been had she summoned a Caster.

It seemed like she was going to have to put up with a rebellious, and from the damn pointing, rather rude Servant. It couldn't be helped, if she'd had time to prepare it would have been child's play to guarantee herself a knight of one kind or another--Barbarossa, maybe, or simply trick the French for a few weeks and get Charlemagne. If only she'd not had the misfortune of summoning a Berserker best suited to another class... at least he was capable of some thought.

"I can assure you that I had no intention of summoning Berserker if it could be helped. Nor do I have the knowledge required to manipulate the Grail in such a way," Johanna stated, adjusting her tie once more before turning around and going back towards the church, "Unfortunately, there still remains a matter of procedure before we can engage in the war proper. A brief, but necessary, formality."

[hr]

[h2]Assassin[/h2]

It was all so... overwhelming. To be summoned at all... the mere inclination that somebody might find her useful, might desire her even for the sake of brutal murders... it was beyond Assassin's wildest imagination. When summoned, she had been ready then and there to do as Mother commanded, to go and hunt down the enemies in this and plan how to kill them before the war had even begun in earnest and get it all over with in a single night of bloodshed. But... Mother had wanted her for more than that, had shown her more affection than she had thought was possible. Food... simple clothing... a [i]hug...[/i]

She would do anything that her mother asked and win this war.

[i]We will watch... but if she hurts you...[/i]

Inside the building, the young girl stuck to the shadows, white hair not giving her away in the slightest--nor the cream shorts. She was Assassin, and beyond that simply beneath the notice of anyone but Mother. Unless she made a move to fight, nobody would ever spot her, regardless of how much her colouration or anything she wore besides a black t-shirt gave her away.