[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/271031448755109888/452429537993818112/AchBanner.png[/img]
[h2]Hero of the Rushed Life[/h2]
[h3][i]Front Yard, Matou Manor[/i][/h3][/Center]

“Is that so?” Lancer shot another winning smile at his Master — no doubt, he could have gotten a girl to blush with only a passing glance but there was no mistaking the amused nature of it if one looked at him for more than a single second. “I don’t know, Master, you’ve looked pretty human to me so far, especially back when we first met. Was that behavior proper for what you think a soldier to be?”

Perhaps the words leaving his mouth surprised him, as well. Had he not resolved to be careful so as to avoid issues? If so, why was he pushing it?

. . .Because to him, understanding that sort of belief was impossible. Because he was someone that lived for himself and those he loved alone.

Because watching someone limit themselves like that was just sad. And so, he spouted the first thing to come to mind, even if he would suffer for it later, because his heart was on his sleeve and his mouth ran faster than his feet sometimes.

Make that a lot of times.

But that was perfectly fine. Perhaps some would mourn his lack of tact, but he would just shrug and move on — no sense crying over spilled milk.

That was just the sort of moron Lancer was — but at least he was an idiot who understood his own idiocy.

So now that he had said it, no sense in trying to back out.

“In fact, I am pretty sure yelling and trying to headbutt someone like that is [i]definitely[/i] not what you think a soldier would have done. Try to show some fire like that more often, Master — and laugh a bit. Being a soldier is no excuse for being so grim — I’d say it’s bad for you. Judging by your smile just now, if we give it a few more years, the moment you try to change your expression, your face will break.”

Ah, but there was another thing to attend to. His head turned to regard the magus that opened the door and greeted them in welcome — and again, he flashed a smile and followed his Master in, spear slung across his shoulders, listening with half a mind while looking around.

To greet them so readily considering the circumstances — even if they should be allies — was either a mark of stupidity or confidence in herself and her own Servant. Perhaps there was the possibility of genuine trust, but he hardly expected that from magi, so he discarded the idea as soon as it came to mind.

His demeanor when the other Servant appeared did not change much — his easy expression did not change even though his muscles tensed imperceptibly, ready to answer to an attack that may or may not come as though it were second nature, but otherwise he showed no hostility and met her gaze evenly. It would not do to answer hospitality like that.

However, something the Matou Master said did catch his attention.

More than seven Servants? He could not help it — he laughed, the feeling of excitement carried by it made almost palpable and, for a second, he lost himself to his fantasies.

“What good news, Master!” His grin showed far too many teeth and he looked more akin to a predator. His grip on the spear had tightened. “This’ll be a battle to remember, I’m sure.”

Lancer was not a patient man, and that characteristic had risen to light with the news — it was obvious that he would much rather be hunting other Servants and vying for battles than standing around while his Master formalized the details of this little pact, but he supposed he would have to bear with it until later tonight.

Still, it was enough to make him feel giddy. His mood improved significantly, prior concern washed away, and his smile became more genuine.

“That said,” His eyes showed amusement as he looked at the girl. “Why so convinced that I might be a Lancer too, miss? You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover so easily. Maybe this is just a sword with a really long handle and a very short blade.”

It was certainly true that appearances pointed toward such, but appearances were just that, and heroes defied common sense often enough, even if his example had been particularly egregious.

Still, he was not wrong — Lancer was a famous hero with claims to various classes and a baffling (over)abundance of Noble Phantasms for a single man to wield. Though he would lack his armor, he could have very easily appeared as a Rider to rampage across the battlefield with his treasured chariot and he would still possess his spear and plenty of other things besides.

However, they were allies, at least for now, and they had revealed their own class.

“However, you were right this time.” He rubbed his chin with one hand as he seemed to think something over. “Hm, yeah just saying ‘Lancer’ might get confusing. . .oh, I got it.”

His eyes lit up in much the same way a kid’s would after finding a solution to a particularly difficult problem and his smile widened.

“You can just call me Lancer Prime. It has a nice ring to it.”

[@phonic] [@ManyThings]

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[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/308113316696424449/456228281721552898/UmbrellaCorp.png[/img]
[h2]Anastasia Alexandrovna Voronin[/h2]
[h3][i]Foreigner’s Graveyard, Shinto[/i][/h3][/center]

Ah.

In a way, she supposed this should not be surprising, but it couldn’t be helped — the figure of her Servant appeared before her and, if nothing else, she was suitably awed to begin with — beings such as these, they all had an inherent radiance to them, and this one was no different, regardless of how much they covered themselves.

Regarding their abilities, though. . .from what she could see about them, manifested in her vision as they were, she seemed to be. . .

[quote]"It's shoddy. But, it'll do for now."[/quote]

That sentence confirmed her guess, and suddenly, she felt much like a lamb standing before a wolf. Introduction in that regard would be unnecessary.

A Caster. Of all the potential classes, she had not given much thought to what would have happened if the one to turn up was that one. In a way, it was only her fault that she was at a loss — the decision to compete in this backwater ritual had been motivated entirely for the desire to gather materials, and she had chosen to summon a hero that would be ‘compatible’ rather than procuring a catalyst to call a specific one.

Basically, she had left everything up to a coin toss, and only time would tell if the coin had doomed her or not by this point. The silver lining was that they did not seem about to attack — fat lot of good those Command Mantra would do at this distance, regardless of how wondrous they were. Even further. . .was that a touch of interest in her Servant’s voice or had she imagined it?

‘I won’t ignore such cute efforts’.

If it had come from anyone else, perhaps she’d have been insulted, but considering the situation. . .it was praise enough for her. The fact that her Servant had praised her ‘potential’ was a good sign. But what. . .

[quote]"However, why don't we drop that little pretense? I would prefer our relationship to be of a 'Master' and 'Apprentice'."[/quote]

Oh.

[i]Oh.[/i]

Her mind almost screeched to a halt as she regarded the offered hand with something akin to wonder. She had certainly not expected this.

Was she being too trusting? Was this a trap?

. . .No. Her prior assessment still held. If Caster wished to break away from her or kill her, this pretense would not be needed, so this offer seemed to be the real deal. Her head felt faint, and she chuckled.

“Well, I could, yes, but that would hardly be proper considering your kindness, Caster. . .though I suppose I should call you ‘Teacher’.”

And with that, it was sealed.

[center]“My name is Anastasia. I’ll be in your care.” [/center]

She inclined her head and took the Servant’s hand, uncaring about whether or not she had made a deal with the devil. This sort of opportunity, this kind of gift, was one she could not afford to let slip away. 

“May I ask what the name of the Heroic Spirit I have summoned is?” Genuine curiosity filled her tone. “As you can see, I used no catalyst, so I’m in the dark regarding your abilities beyond your class.” 

A frown overtook her features, but it was not directed at Caster. Rather. . 

“Still, I wish I could have known to try and summon you earlier — I don’t doubt you could have done a better job in an hour than I managed with this graveyard for a week. Geez, this is actually embarrassing. . .”

She shot a glance at the zombies playing the instruments, their services not needed anymore — a wave of her hand caused them to stop just as suddenly as they had begun, leaving the night unperturbed. Her gaze turned toward Caster once again, and she seemed to ponder on what to say.

“. . .I had a pet project I intended to see to tonight, had I summoned a more meatheaded sort, but considering you’re here. . .well, Teacher, what is the first order of business?”

[@Red Alice]