[center][h1][color=f7941d]Catherine Delacroix[/color][/h1][/center]

[@Lost Cause]

Catherine regretted ever informing the Mother Superior of her Command Seals. That had brought her nothing but months of pain, the like she hadn't felt since she began training as an Exorcist, fitting as it was the Church that had brought both hellish experiences onto her. Two representatives came to visit the monastery a week after her reveal, one from the Church and one from the Mage's Association. After confirming the stigmata and testing her powers, she was handed a papal bull, which ordered her to pursue the path of a master. she had nearly refused, until the mage gave her an offer she couldn't refuse, damn the slimy connard.

Now she stood in the middle of the convent's damnably drafty abandoned chapel calling forth some hero of yore, instead of reading to the orphans a story before bed like she had promised. Catherine slowly wheeled herself to the center of the chapel, to the center of the seal. Scowling, Catherine leaned down from her wheelchair, and placed the catalyst, a glass bottle with some indeterminable liquid sealed within, in the center of the of the summoning circle. Said circle took up the better of the church's floor, scarlet circles and runes covering every inch of the ground. Wheeling her self out of the seal, Catherine positioned herself in next to the entrance and in front of the seal Beginning the incantation, she could feel the alien burning sensation spreading through her body, wracking her with nearly unbearable pain. Nearly being the key word. If she had been a lesser woman, Catherine mused, she might have succumbed to the pain, but her will held fast, and she stoically continued the ritual.

[center][color=f7941d]"Silver and iron to the origin. Gem and the archduke of contracts to the cornerstone. The ancestor is my great master Schweinorg.[/color][/center]

Her mage tutor had been delighted when she had shown the small chapel to him, a natural leyline he had called it. She knew it as the place where a priest saw a vision of the Virgin Mary, and the cause of an uncomfortable burning sensation whenever Catherine walked past. Her tutor had then condescendingly told her that, "Even a fake like you could summon a decent Servant here." with a sneer.

[center][color=f7941d]Your self is under me, my fate is in your sword.[/color][/center] 

The catalyst had come from the Church representative, from the relic coffers of the Vatican. An investment he had called it, she considered it a chain to the wretched institution. Just as the mage's gift was a pair of chains as well, given under the pretense of helping her.

[center][color=f7941d]In accordance with the approach of the Holy Grail, if you abide by this feeling, this reason, then answer.[/color][/center]

The begins glowing, and a sphere of light begins enveloping the chapel, blinding the nun as she continued weaving the summoning. The pain was burning now, and Catherine's arms were beginning to shake on the armrests of her wheelchair.

[center][color=f7941d]Here is my oath. I am the one who becomes all the good of the world of the dead, I am the one who lays out all the evil of the world of the dead.[/color][/center]

[center][color=f7941d]You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance ―――！""[/color][/center]
[hr]

[center][h1][color=aba000]Lancer[/color][/h1][/center]

[@Pie Flavor]

Lancer trailed behind his master in his spirit form as he made his way out of the forest. He paused however when he felt a presence arrive, another servant Lancer noted grimly. Standing still, he threw his spiritual form into the earth, and waited for the faint presence to leave. As he waited, he mused to himself, [color=aba000]"An enemy, and so early as well. What class are they? An Assassin? No, their presence was more like his when we scaled the walls."[/color] Lancer grinned savagely as the presence finally left. Ghosting back up to the surface, he began floating towards his master, appearing by his side in an instant. "If the servant was who I thought it was, this is going to be an interesting war." Lancer thought as he looked back at the woods where the enemy servant disappeared, his grin still on his lips.

Turning around, he began admiring the strange buildings around him, his memories feeding him pieces of information on the purpose the buildings served. How strange it was, for the streets to be so bright at night. Even in his kingdom, walking in the city at night was a dangerous prospect. When his master finally entered the building, Lancer circled the building as a spirit, before slippping through the wall to stand follow his master through the store. Eyeing some of the strange new garments around him, his eye was drawn to a strange ensemble of a deep purple dress shirt, cream tie, smokey grey vest, slacks and black leather shoes, all clothed on a featureless mannequin next to the changing rooms. Studying the outfit with interest, he ghosted through the wall to stand behind his master, whom he saw enter a few minute later. As he entered, he noticed his master appeared to be mumbling to himself with a large bundle of clothes in his hands. Hearing him asking for Lancer to appear, Lancer stepped back into the corporeal world. Materializing, Lancer stood in the nude with his arms crossed his chest. His body was hairless, save small patch of blonde curls. His bare muscles rippled as he shifted his stance, before he cleared his throat to draw the other man's attention.