[center][h3]Franz Burine [color=6ecff6]Plaza[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][@ERode][@King Cosmos][/center]

Reverberations echoed up Katherine's spare limbs, the enemy mage's cane tapping along lethal thorns, bopping vines left and right as they coiled in its direction, always an instant behind its fluid movements. And like that they were tangled, misdirected, flailing around each other in one direction as her prey escaped in the other, throwing some gesture to keep her balance before wheeling into a kick. This was some sort of highly physically capable Magus, or a beneficiary of a Caster class. There wasn't time to analyze the source, and she was kidding herself is she thought she could keep the pace set by the flow of their actions. Katherine had never once subscribed to the idea of subtlety in a duel. With her arm still cast aside she resolved to step forward, chasing the twist of her opponent, accepting whatever a kick could mean to so much raw power in motion. Her mind raced as her fist clenched around the dagger still held tightly at her side. She raised Berserker's tribute up to chest height, fang bared outward as she went in for the kill.

But something was horribly amiss. The flow of mana had shifted, no, halted. Her own continued to pulse through her, driving her legs as she threw herself at the incoming attack. It was Berserker's, ceased. Of course he couldn't exactly report his own status in words, but the sudden gut wrenching shift of a spirit diminishing managed to pierce through her own battle frenzy and register for the threat it was. How? How was Berserker faltering in close combat? A technicality she hadn't known about, a shift in battlefield conditions that no one could have prepared for. Her weapon could only go forward. She could only go forward. Their war would only go forward from here.

Naoko's boot smashed into her knee, the joint crumpling, the feeling of the energy burning away at the Enforcer's body jumping between them like static electricity. Flesh wound. Alchemy. Whatever it took to fix. Falling forwards didn't mean anything to Katherine, she was already going there, reaching out viciously for the swift Magus in her sights. Her left hand raised over her head, her two Command Seals blazing as the sign of her force. The frail, aged dagger spiked with rays of blue light, ether poured into its constructed form at a rate it was never intended to survive. In her maddened hands the ability to wield the Phantasm became irrelevant, it became her primed hand grenade, a Broken Phantasm ready to detonate. The woman who would live forever would make a gamble on her own durability. She shrieked a command, to her faraway Berserker, too distant to hear but perhaps not too far gone to feel it.

[b]"Kill. Kill!"[/b] Only the first word on her mind came out, but the order's purpose was clear. She knew not what obstructed Berserker, but by her Second Command Seal she declared: Overcome, and kill. Her own body obeyed well enough. tossed vines unfurling, drawing back in to reorient as her dagger fell in a swift arc for that helmet covered face.

[center][h3]Police Cordon/Franz Burine [color=6ecff6]Plaza[/color][/h3][/center]
[center][@Sightles][/center]

Crowley's continued smile only tugged a little bit wider as Otto quickly complied, rising to the occasion and... going for a smoke. Of course nothing was ever so simple with a magician, and by the time he thought it was probably best to clamp down on his nose, a gesture he did not resort to, the smoke from Habsburg's spell dissipated into the atmosphere. A binding agent, merely some kind of inhalant? Where the previous puppeteer had cut his strings and left the dolls running slack around the cordon, something else entirely picked them up, Otto's words into the nearest man's ear. He only watched over Otto's shoulder as the mage approached him, taken aback by the sight of so many uniformed officers doing their uncanny valley meet and greet, handshakes and all, out in the open. [b]"Creepy, but see, you didn't just kill everyone which is a major step up from what we've been doing here for the past hour or so."[/b]

[b]"You liked that bit? I didn't plan on getting spiked by whichever one of you will end up thinking 'hey, it'd be fun to kill that guy and ruin everything,' so I was going to sit this one out but getting us all killed by the American government was not part of the idea of the upheaval. This- This is why the Magi couldn't make this work in over a hundred years, you know. These people just [i]gravitate[/i] to bloodshed."[/b] Crowley raved, hands swinging in animated gestures towards the spread of swirling dust and broken glass obscuring the street towards the plaza, where the light show continued and other sirens could be heard wailing across the cordoned area. Only as distant gunshots crackled off, echoing from the remaining windows in the area, did he arrest himself. The host slid down from the cruiser, his diminutive frame still forcing him to look up at Otto for the time. 

[b]"Nice of you to take over cleaning up here. Really all there is to it is to make sure no one ever gets the order go in. A blockade looks fidgety, or somebody starts checking who's ready on the radio, gotta stop those sorts of things early. Nothing will stop the reprisals if we just let more people wander into the grinder."[/b] His eyes wandered past Otto, searching for a Servant he could not see but duly suspected the presence of. Well, hopefully nothing could come of that with a Master preoccupied with the social wellbeing, not anymore. "Really I suppose there's nothing we can do save starve this out and hope to contain it."

In the distance an unseen shade complied with his Master's orders, the nimble Archer spirit disintegrating into light to seek a more advantageous overwatch of the combat zone. The first target had collapsed, fled, and with it the hostilities seemed to cease. There only remained the question of the building, or Masters in the surroundings, though picking the latter out between floating debris was the more time consuming task. No, simply bombarding away the pesky Servants audacious enough to throw their house into the street would satisfy the command. In due time...