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Hey! Sorry about the delay! Ended up changing my bioa fter reading a few others. I'm hoping to finally finish it today.
Finishing up my bio. Should be ready in the next day or two!
Might be interested. On a time crunch recently. Will put work on a character and post when I can
It's 2am, and I also should be sleep. Glad I past over this before passing out! :)

Interested in all 3, along with any other ideas you might have! I'm pretty flexible when it comes to content and style.

Otto von Habsburg


Caster had fled. Otto gleamed that much from his Shared Perception. As the lights from the police cars, and the cacophony of shouting, neared closer to Otto, he severed the link he shared with his Servant. He would need to focus on his duties now, as a Master. I'm about to arrive on the scene, Archer. Keep an eye out for Caster, for now. This day had put a sizeable amount of stress on Otto, but he must press on. The destruction of the building wasn't favorable, but it was an attempt Otto was glad to make. The likelihood of hitting the target in the exasperated situation the enemy Servant had found himself in made the attempt too much to turn aside. Unfortunate the attack proved unfruitful.

Otto's sprint slowed down to a careful gait, as he pushed through a small crowd of civilians, heading towards the police cordon. It wouldn't take much. Mesmerization and no more, and he'd be in. In high stress situations like this, where emotions filled the area like a noxious fume, it made his particular Magecraft all the more powerful. It would only take but a proverbial small shove on the edge of the cliff for his powers to work to full effect.

As Otto neared the cordon, it struck him. Temperature change, a small shift in the wind, and the growing look of indifference on the faces of those closer to the cordon. A small grimace crossed the noble's face, as he slowly began to walk towards the cordon, now acutely aware of the presence of another Mage. One that also dabbled in an art similar to Otto's.

It was easy enough to spot the cause, for Otto. A man of questionable fashion lounging on top a makeshift throne, bleeding with an air of sliminess that seemed to jump forward before the man could even speak. Strangely enough, Otto did not spot the telltale signs of Command Seals upon the Mage's hand, making the situation all the more perplexing.

Stepping forward, from the crowd and towards the cordon filled with it's engaged officers, Otto revealed himself. The pink-haired man reacted instantly, his face abright with only what Otto could surmise as an expression of joy. Otto had to restrain himself from stopping his hand from twitching towards his belt, ready to produce any type of jewel he'd need. Instead, he'd listen, at least for now.

Stone-faced, and unmoving, as the worm in front of him spoke, Otto listened carefully to the man's words. He had wondered privately when showman would be revealing himself to his audience. The note before the onset of the war only served to speak more to man's character in front of him. However, if the man in front of him was mad, then Otto was twice so.

Silence was the only response Otto offered back to his gracious host, standing still and quiet for a moment after the snap and release of the thralls. Wordlessly, Otto pulled his silvered cigarette case from his jacket, producing a long tubular and expensive looking wrap of tobacco. In a flash, the cigarette was lit. The Mage sampled the acrid material, dragging from the cigarette for only what could be assumed to be an entirety compared to the panic and noises that pervaded the plaza.

Exhaling, the smoke that left the Mage's lips were something different. They seemed to dance through the air, against the beckoning of the wind and nature, carrying itself low before it was so spread out that it vanished from sight. Now, with a short nod, Otto turned from his host and stepped towards one of the still groggy guards. There were many here, but he would be the start. What Otto was about to do would drain him the most out of any other event in the day, and would effectively remove him from further actions, but as insane as Crowley came across, ht was sane enough to realize this event needed to end.

Archer, we are disbanding this embarrassment. Find a better position and drive any rat you still see out back to it's hole. There's too many eyes on all of this, now. Otto could only hope that whatever force his Servant decided necessary wouldn't be enough to drive what little energy he'd have left after this. Otto could only lament his lack of his Crown Jewels to himself, as he gripped the officer's wrist in front of him, slightly surprising the groggy guard. No more collateral damage. Find a way to attack without making this situation any worse. Otto found time to add in, as he moved his smoke-scented lips to the ear of the guard.

Only a moment passed, and the guard's form stood at attention, his eyes alert and staring straight ahead. With another word, the guard stepped away from the Head of Habsburg, and towards a gathering throng of his fellow-officers, still attempting to gather their senses. Without a mark of concern on his face, Otto stepped back towards his impromptu companion, Crowley, as an exchange of awkward handshakes and small words passed between the officers behind him.

Otto approached the vehicle, stopping only short of Crowley and the cruiser. Exhaling another cloud of coiling smoke into the air, that seemed to defy law. The man who sat on the hood of the cruiser lived and breathed heretic to Otto, and even now he could feel the wave of disdain wash over him, making the feeling all the more visible as the tall German aristocrat towered slightly over the sitting man. "Fortunate for the affected that you got here so quickly." Otto replied, through drags of the cigarette that rested gently between his lips.

Around the cordon, the police now found themselves moving with a sense of purpose different from before. The errant handshake could still be seen between still-recovering officers and the ones whom seemed to move with robotic-like precision. As the process went on, and the officers seemed to be going about several unclear objectives, Otto's consistent stiff posture seemed to sag, if only slightly.

Otto gripped at his belt with one hand, plucking the half-ashed cigarette from his lips with his other hand, "Your letter to the Association, the one I received, was quite interesting, Herr Crowley." Otto started flicking the cigarette from his mouth. Before the moment passed, another was already in his mouth and lit. "'A great upheaval' is a good phrase to describe tonight." Another cloud of smoke entered the air, visibly hovering for a moment before spreading thin across the air.

Otto could only barely conceal his unrest at the situation. It was hidden enough, but he'd be drained before too long. It was worth it, though. Ending this spectacle was the most important thing, for Otto could hardly imagine the blow back that would occur. The largest threat to the masquerade of the magus to perhaps ever happen.

Otto von Habsburg


That's why they were late. The news poured in slowly at first, with multiple conflicting accounts, but with Archer's information, it was now certain. This event would mark the thunderous beginning to the War.

The restaurant had locked the doors and covered the windows, shutting down and protecting those that were to seek refuge from the terrorist attack. The Menton itself wasn't terribly far from the epicenter of the event, within a sprint's distance for a magus at least. Otto had been one of the very few who had decided to leave, when offered shelter. He now ran, his clothes that he only wore for the nicest of occasions flinging themselves every which way from the wind. He hardly even noticed how cold the wind was, or the beginning of the gentle snowfall.

Good tactical sense, Archer. Act as you see fit until I can arrive. Otto relayed, through his link, to his Servant. In his current state, it was hard to focus on the images and sounds that were shooting through his brain. He couldn't make out much of what his Servant was experiencing, but it was obvious that Archer was well in position for an ensuing attack.

The night air of the city was heavy on Otto, with only the cold winds, distant gunshots, and sirens to call him towards the action. This would very well be his first test as a Master in this war. If he could arrive on the scene, he may not only be able to gather critical information, but protecting the secrecy of the War would only serve to win him outside supporters. There was no doubt an incident of this level would be draw attention, of course. That being said, Otto did not intend to weave into the middle of this battle, placing himself in the most amount of danger. He was eager for a fight, but not for suicide.

Panting as he sprinted, Otto checked the name of a street sign as he turned a corner. Only a block away, now. He could hear all sounds of war, from gunshots, to explosions, and even inhuman roars. Despite the near-constant sprint Otto had been in, his speed only picked up as he ran closer to the source. The adrenaline he could feel begin pumping in him, even though his mind stayed completely clear.

It would be only a short matter of time until the Head of Habsburg was upon this Boston massacre.

Otto von Habsburg


There it was, again. That nagging. As Otto approached the girl, it kept screaming from the back of his mind. A tingling in his hand now. It was starting to all fall into place. Until the wealthy girl played even truer to her ditzy nature.

The water was ice cold, drenching the front of Otto's jacket and pants. Even the unflappable Otto could not hide a grimace of absolute disgust. Luckily, though, the grimace faded quickly, replaced by a slightly terse smile. As Luna went on into her ramblings of apologies, Otto plucked napkins from the bar, patting the wet spots of his suit.

"It's quite alright. An understandable mistake." Otto replied with practiced aristocratic tone, with only a hint of disdain for the girl. This is the price Otto paid for trying to enjoy even a moment of his time in this plagued city. Balling up the several damp napkins, Otto tossed them behind the bar, into an awaiting trash can. Turning back to Luna, he forced his terse smile once more, "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid I must go change now. I hope we meet, again." Otto replied, his smile screaming with a hidden disgust for the young girl in front of him. It was an abrupt leave, but an understandable one, and one that was driven by Otto's absolute contempt he had for the entire day.

Otto gave a short nod of his head to Luna, before turning around and making his way out of the bar, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Angry boiled inside of him. No matter, though. Soon enough, Otto would be rectifying things soon enough with his meeting with Rider. Things would be back on the path they needed to be. They had to be. Otto didn't know what he'd do if they didn't.

As Otto parted the barroom, his eyebrows furrowed as Archer's message found it's way to him. It is not my wit that I am worried about, Archer. It is requested you keep comments like the latter to yourself. Otto replied, continuing a internal dialogue while he made his way for the elevator. The bar was a distraction in the end. All that mattered was gathering back his artifact, and then the contingency plan could fully get under way. However, pragmatic acquisitions and dealings were not the only thing running through Otto's mind. Retribution.

As the VIP elevator roared upwards, carrying the lone Otto to the upper floors, he could do little than wait. Most of this war had been waiting. Waiting and having plans foiled and encroached upon by the other Masters. After tonight, he would no longer allow others to dictate the tempo of the War for him.

Entering his room, Otto begun his changing and preparing for the coming meeting. Otto doubted that such a dialogue had occurred between two masters, in this manner, before. The situation itself was definitely an odd one, but Otto was not above the subtle machinations of diplomacy. He had more to win at the meeting than to lose, as it stood. All he had to gain from the meeting was his lost possessions and more information on Team Rider. As long as Archer was beside him, he wouldn't have much to worry about with Rider.

Get ready for tonight, Archer.
Sorry, was gone for a while due to work. Back now.
Brady James



Brady's soft smile eventually turned into a large grin as Lara went on. It was funny, in a subtle and charming way. "Yeah, I've heard of it." Brady managed back, slightly chuckling. The way Lara interacted and spoke about Salem spoke volumes about her, and bore heavy implications about a love for animals. It was admirable.

"Oh. Yeah. Stone. He's my barn owl. A little bit of a ditz. He stays at the school year round." Brady replied, folding his arms over his chest as he spoke. He missed Stone, a lot. The bird was admittedly a goof-ball of an owl, but it was lovable and maybe Stone all the more adorable. A gentle owl that somehow always managed to make Brady smile.

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