[center][h1][color=98FB98]Johann Maximilian Wald[/color][/h1][/center]

[center][i]Main Room, Red Team Mansion, Downtown Residential District, Black Rock[/i][/center]

[hr]

A magecraft originating from Scandinavia, Runes had been first created by the god Odin. These "originals" were aptly known as "Primeval Runes", and the power they boasted was nothing to sneeze at. Then there were the old runes, which were the descendants of these originals. Then from the old runes had come modern runes. Ultimately this magecraft had been watered down to a mere shadow of what had once been, a comparably tiny spark igniting a joint...at least as compared to the light of that great bonfire of its origins. 

With this in mind, many had sought to "link the fire" that was that old tradition and bring it back. They sought to reclaim what had once been lost, eve a thamaturgical system founded by a god. Yet especially for those among his ancestors, this very dream had been so very long-sought after that their very existence was invested into it with a sincere earnest. Financial capital, diplomatic clout, precious time, and so much more blood, sweat, and tears had been spilt in order to actualize something that seemed to be a goal line that remained ever so distant. 

Then that dream had been colored later on by the temptation of touching 「     」...just as so many other magi aspired to. Truth. Knowledge and power untold. Then that had led to now in turn. 

It was too late to back down now, though it wasn't like he intended to either. All of this work would become something, [i]mean[/i] something, and he would ensure that would be the case going onwards. 

[color=yellow]"Hmm..."[/color]

Yet it was almost karmic, in a sense, how [b]he'd[/b] turned out. Just like his grandfather and a small scattering of past family heads in turn. So far from the normal path of a magus, and yet still treading forward upon it with a sense of sheer impunity and an abnormal savviness of the times. He still blamed himself in part for how he'd become after being sent 'there', really, but there was no changing the past either. It at times made him want to laugh aloud, which had admittedly scared his attendants once or twice before, as if wondering that this was all some joke of a grand design. Or, perhaps, was it fate? 

Yet the words of his father only seemed to ring in his ears. 

[quote=???][color=orange]"Hahaha! Yes, the path of a Magus is one that we have trod for many a generation. All abilities, all efforts, all assets, everything and one's self devoted to finding 'Truth' and knowing it. 

..But then I look at my own life. None ever thought I, of all my father's children, would come to amount to anything as a mage. Seemingly hundreds of years of labor gone to waste, some cursing my name as a byword by the time my education was done, and yet in the end I grasped the reins and furthered our dream more than my father could have possibly imagined.

All because I came to continue seeking out that far-flung dream through a somewhat different lens."[/color][/quote]

Standing before his bedroom window, dressed in a high-class black suit and matching tie, the man simply stared outwards into the sky and upon the German landscape with an almost empty gaze. A lit cigar sat in his right hand, clutched tightly but gingerly to not drop it as a thin trail of wispy smoke coiled up into air from its softly-glowing tip.  

[color=yellow]"Hmph. You did always have a way with words in some fashion, father, but more so a way with what you aimed for and achieved. Multiple new acquisitions and duplicates, a veritable treasure trove of knowledge and progress that I can scarcely imagine doing myself. We've come so much closer to 'It', and yet..."[/color]

Sighing, the man pulled his hand up and took another long drag on his cigar. 

[color=yellow]"The boy has made a mockery of our name, some say, a [i]'schweinhund'[/i] that doesn't deserve the crest. I'd already written out the groundwork plans to take Hansel in for training, a replacement I had hoped wouldn't be needed years ago...and yet I stopped there. I stopped there and found myself pausing recalling your words, and the damn stupid things you did, and how much was accomplished, and I just [i]stopped[/i]. 

Hell, kinda off already starting off like you said you did. For one thing, he finally re-acquired 'that' old journal your great-grandfather lost all those years ago. Something about a 'eBay' or whatever? Bah.

...Even so, what's in that old journal has been vastly more than simply promising. It's the treasure trove you spoke of back then. A veritable miracle for the future, especially after how that journal got lost in the first place, which even I can't fully process the contents of in my lifetime."[/color]

Another long sigh came out from between the man's lips, though at the same time the corners of his mouth began to turn upwards. 

[color=yellow]"A bunch of damned fools all of you, scattered like landmines on our family, laughed at, and yet you moved it all forward every single time. So I'll let him keep going, since he's been working on it anyways, and see if the fool of a boy really becomes the next 'you'.

If not, well, I won't hesitate in pulling the trigger myself and taking our Crest back. That I promise you. I won't be succeeded by a failure. Our work will not go to waste."[/color]

[hr]

Whenever Isaac would potentially and finally make it to the Main Room, he would at least find a certain German magus sitting in a chair next to the coffee table. Donning very casual clothes and wielding a magecraft-treated metal instrument in his hand, he was seemingly etching runes into a set of stones that sat in front of him on the polished wood. A look of laser-focused concentration seemed to be on his face as he worked, however, and already visible was a small set of roughly ten rune-inscribed rocks were placed nearby on the table as well. 

However, he without a doubt still smelled like a joint...at least after what he'd done earlier that day.  

[color=98FB98]"Was wondering when you'd arrive. Archer seen if everyone else is in position so far? Any sight of enemy movement yet?"[/color]

Johann spoke to his fellow Master without batting an eye at him, much less even take the moment to look up, as he seemingly finished off and set aside his latest rune. 

It was one thing when he'd hotboxed his attic-space workshop earlier after arrival, mostly to get himself high and able to focus himself more on the preparations at hand. The obvious complaints were obvious in their own way, when it came to a bunch of stuffy mages and odd types around him, but that hadn't phased him either. People tended to focus on the changes in his attitude at the Clock Tower, if they knew of his existence, and bluntly speaking many had just assumed the worst. 

Still, none of his classes had complained about his getting work done. None of his teachers saw an issue with handing in assignments or projects or the ilk...frankly the opposite. Even his father hadn't complained about his continued work ethic, at least, after he'd sent him that journal he'd found online. Sure he got high and was more laid-back than before, but hell wasn't it stressful enough to be a mage anyways? He had to focus on his work, not kill himself over it and waste 900 years of progress. Flat had the right idea with keepin' it cool, at least, and to him that was good and all. But he still had a serious ethic in regards to his work that still resonated very true even now. 

Then again, having people think less of you than get stuck in the sight-blocking brown-nosing some did was better in his eyes. He didn't mind if they hated him, because he did his own thing and he continued his work as a Magus. He'd never forgotten about the path, he'd just taken a slightly different but still-serious approach. Didn't have to keep a stick-up-the-ass to be a mage, right? 

Though in the meantime-

[color=98FB98][i]'Hey Lancer, are you seeing anything suspicious around here? Archer's master is just walkin' in, so maybe we'll get to move out soon. Will keep ya' posted as I learn more. 

..Though, ah, do please tell me if ya' ever see a stressed out British man and some girl in a gray hood walking around.'[/i][/color]

Thanks to Flat for letting him know Teach had left as well. He'd wondered what would happen after sending that letter to tell him what was going on. Not like he could just hide it if he just disappeared, so better to just 'pull the band-aid off' in his mind and let his favorite instructor know anyways. 

[@ColourlessKing][@Anza]