OttoVann

Breaking the silence between us, and coming back to my senses I can hear Ulain still droning on, he literally can't shut the fuck up if he tried. One of his 'best' features if he had anything else noteworthy about him. I extend my hand towards her, still in its red-felt glove, offering her the reprieve she clearly wants. She plays along and seems puzzled then hesitant at first – she is still hanging on another client's arm. “Care to join me Y'lesta? I was just about to head up to the Airstrip.” I keep my eye contact maintained with her, not wanting to break it mostly because I am hoping Ulain gets the point, though I have my doubts he gets anything. Immediately Ulain blurts out “Do what? Hey now you wait just a minute, I found her fair in the Quicksand and you can't just go around asking another man's girl to come with you - especially in front of them.” He reaches out his free hand and almost touches me, wanting to push my own away – fortunately for him he thinks better of it at the last moment. I'm not sure why he made a point to really enunciate that word either, raising his voice as he said it. Outwardly my smile only widens and my eyes show warmth and tenderness. Inwardly however, I'm frowning. Disgust would be on my face if I could allow it. If Ridley we're here she would be threatening him with something along the lines of 'Care to find out how much pain a man can endure and live to tell about?'. Y'stela looks at me with apprehension. She puts on a false air of unsureness, looking up to Ulaine with an almost terrified expression as she lays her ears flat against her head. She is so good at acting right now I can't actually tell if she is legitimately scared of Ulaine. For a moment all of us are at a standstill, myself standing there with my hand outstretched, her still hooked to his offered arm, and Ulain just standing there obviously grinding his teeth as he looks at me with nothing to say for his frustration. I have a hunch this woman is business before pleasure – from what little I remember of her so I finally break the silence. “So how much is he paying you exactly?” Instantly he breaks their arms being linked together, and starts to stammer out a protestation while I continue to smile as I keep her gaze when she looks up to me, humor in her eyes while her face shows embarrassment and confusion for his sake. Before he can formulate his response I let false anger cloud my face as I make a show of snapping the fingers of my outstretched hand towards him while I refuse to look at him. Amazingly he finally quiets, assuming I'm ready to kill him, or have him killed. Sometimes Syndicate affiliation has its advantages. Too bad he couldn't just leave me alone, but this will get him to keep his distance for some time. With the new found patience instilled into Ulain, I continue speaking to Y'stela “I'll triple whatever he paid – come with me little one.” As I let my words hang in the air I beckon her to me. She takes a step forward, looking back to him with regret on her face to say 'I have to go', then steps forward to me, easily and instantly wrapping her arm around mine. Content with my new found partner, I take a turn for the Quicksand and bring her along with me as we climb those stairs. Truly I wasn't interested in a lay right now, especially considering the dinner I was planning to make out of Lucy, but sometimes you just need to go with the flow. Besides I am doing this woman a great service, rescuing her from that fat slob of an idiot Ulain. As we round the top of the stairs I stop and look down to her as she stands at my sides. She keeps her gaze locked forward, that humor twinkle still in those large eyes though her face doesn't show it. After a moments time she says “Thank you Sir Vann.” Finally she betrays some outward emotion as she shifts her weight on her legs heels “Did you really mean triple? He took out a loan to afford me for the last two days...” she trails her words off with obvious pity for him. “You would have to pay me at least two hundred thousand gil, Sir Vann.” She definitely is business first then pleasure – something I can appreciate. An impressed look comes across on my face while I inwardly laugh at the plight of a man who takes out loans to afford whores. “Two hundred thousand?" I nod to her in a sort of agreement. "I can double that for your trouble. Shall we go to a room I keep here at the QuickSand then?” Expectantly this shatters her composure as she looks up to gape at me. Most likely she is running in her head what she can do with so much money. I doubt she has ever seen that much at once, probably more than what she earns in weeks worth of work. I give her enough time to collect herself before jerking my head to the Quicksand “Shall we go then Y'stela?” “Yes, Sir Vann.” Curt and to the point. As we enter the Quicksand I notice my earlier problem was removed, but also notice a few sets of eyes following me. I avoid making large scenes, but I also know how word travels in here. As we come to the bar, an assistant notices my approach with someone hanging on my arm and gets all the instruction they need as they turn around to a rack with keys hanging on it. I made them attach a small pink feather to a chain that hangs on a ring to the key for my room, and as he slides it over I pick it up with a small grin and bow of the head. The winding hallways of the QuickSand with numbered doors is quite unimpressive. You hear the tell-tale knocking from some rooms as you pass by. Many courtesans basically live in the QuickSand outright to get easy access to their work. As we finally head down a few more hallways we come to my room that I have outright bought leased indefinitely. Room 77. Its actually not the seventy-seventh room here but I find the number seven to be a number of completeness so I had my peculiar scheming tacked onto my door and they obliged since I put so much coin their way. As I jiggle the key to my room to unlock it, the dusty air kicks up and swirls slightly as I push the door open. It's been a few days since someone came into here to maintain it – with a fine layer of dust starting to form on top of the furniture in here. Still, everything is neat and set precisely the way I insist of it. I free my arm of Y'stela's linking as I head over to a nightstand beside the bed and sort through the mail that has been left on it addressed to me. Y'stela follows me in and sits right in the doorway, making sweeping looks of the room and watches me as I sit on the side of my bed sorting my mail. I look up to her with my head tilted to look over to tops of my glasses just long enough to send her the message – and true to her professional nature she gets it and backs herself up, pushing the door closed as she backs into it. Once the door is closed she reaches up from behind her and latches it locked and walks over to stand in front of me and removes the glasses from my face. “For four-hundred thousand gil I am yours, in all things. I belong to you fully for as long as you want, you can do whatever you want with me in any way. I am well trained as I am sure you remember from when you hired me a couple of months ago – and I have so many more tricks I can show you now if you'd prefer.” She doesn't wait for a response out of me or my answer, she reaches to the sash holding her skirt up and pulls at it once with purpose, letting it glide off of her frame and crumple on the floor at her feet. The routine is as natural as breathing to me as I hook a finger to my bow-tie to pull it loose as I turn my neck to the sides to loosen up my collar after unbuttoning it. She crooks a finger under my chin and pulls my face up to look at hers “Just one thing Master Vann. My name isn't Y'stela.” I'd shrug if I cared. [To be continued...]

(Did you think I had forgotten you?) With my impromptu shopping out of the way I start to head back from the Exchange up towards the Gate of Nald. With my hands on my pockets and my affable smile at the ready I keep walking up the streets, the crowds thinning the further you get away from the markets. Eventually I get far enough up the avenues to start approaching the Quicksand again, it standing tall and proud from its front entrance directly in front of the Gate. Its the first thing you encounter in this city, a large and impressive water fountain that sits to the facade of the building with the steps that lead up to the entrance flanking it on both sides. Unfortunately for me the first thing I encounter today when I reach the gate is Ulain. Ulain Luax, an incompetent investor who can not for the life of him dress anything but poorly. He never fails to have a cheap paid Courtesan on his arm as he walks around and tries to leech off of successful men and women of Ul'Dah – or pretending to be our friend to impress his paid-for-date. I wish I could roll my eyes, but he may one day be useful to me though I very much doubt it. “Ah MR. Otto VANN!” He makes a point of emphasizing my name in hopes that his arm candy will be impressed. I've been with her before and I know she has been impressed with me. I'd laugh if it mattered, I just can't bring myself to get involved though. Still I go from a leisurely pace to trying to look busy and non-plussed. I can not be bothered with someone trying to pitch me some idiotic investment venture that he cooked up last night. I look to him with pursed lips and a slight tilt of my head to show 'I really don't have time for this'. He is a smart man and is perceptive enough to pick up on it – but he persists nonetheless. He drones on “I was just talking to my latest dame here about this swell idea I had to earn some serious gil.” I can barely breathe in to reply before this rotund little hyur plows into the rest of his pointless pitch “Picture this, your jewelry on all the gals on Ul'Dah. Not just any gals but the courtesans of Ul'Dah.” He takes a moment to stop and breathe, looking at me with disdain as he continues his pitch “Now I know what your thinking. My jewelry on whores?! Trust me my boy I've got it all figured out...” Holding up a hand of protest to his face I cut him off “Ulain, please. Not now. I have...” If there is one thing in this world I can not and will never stand for – it's being rudely interrupted, especially when I am all of polite and cordial. Immediately Ulain launch into his spiel “Ah come on partner. I'm just trying to make us both rich! You pay me a finders fee and I provide the girls with the mosy eyes on them. Whadda ya say?” Moments like these require men like me to make fools like this hate us so we can be left in peace. Ulain doesn't care about pitching me the idea successfully, he's just trying to impress that lovely little Miqo attached to his arm. I look back to appraise her again, trying to recollect her name and shutting Ulain out of my world. In the background I could still imagine hearing him bleat on about the woman on his arm upon seeing my notice her, telling me her name and how lovely she is but I can't hear him after making her the focus of my mind for the moment. Her eyes find their way to mine, sultry and inviting and we simply hold each other's gaze as we think about whether we feel like leaving together and dumping Ulain to his machinations, alone. She has rimmed her eyes with dark shades of purple, matching the color of her eyes – much like Lhea does. Mocha colored skin that's obviously smooth to perfection, jetblack hair that's been left to grow long and hang down a part of her back. The Miqo is short in stature, even for her own kind and also lacking much of a chest – something some men pay extra for to fulfill their desire for younger looking types. She is about everything you'd want from someone paid to hang onto your arm and keep your bed warm. She finally breaks the stand-still and smiles at me, her eyes only barely speaking to me – whispering 'Please. Can I come with you?'. [To be continued...]

Otto rises from his chair and starts to roll down his sleeves and rebutton his collar. Doing all of this wordlessly while he considers her words he looks ahead as he secures his bowtie. He stands behind his chair, both hands rested on the back of it as he looks down to her while she is at the table "You will care about what you wear once I put you in clothes of my design." With a dour expression he puts his coat on and looks back to her long enough to tell her "See you next time. I'm headed back North - I'm tired of shit city."

Welcome to the site.

I know when FF7 gets brought up...its kind of a dead to death horse. BUT cosplay glamours for /fun/ are still fun. Observe. Found an Aeris cosplayer and from there I made Cid. And we had fun and got some nice screens. ANYONE ELSE?

As quietly as they approached, the barmaid returns to their table with yet again, two more glasses and deposits them on the table, bowing as she turns and almost flees. Otto takes one glasses and pushes it forward to Eva, letting it slide close enough to her grasp as he slides his own drink between his hands. He bats it back and forth, letting it glide between his hands as he tries to best sort his answer. Looking up to her he replies almost regrettably, as if he expected more "Its not about the money." Otto shrugs as if to add addendum "Well it is about money - but for me its about what the money represents." "Think about it. Its why I refuse partners in business or investors. My almost incalculable wealth represents me. Its why I care so much about appearance. Once you have over a couple hundred million gil having more doesn't matter as much as making it stand for something." "I am in business for myself. I am in business for the sake of being in business. I could have retired a while ago, I have nearly worked myself to death at points to make all this wealth accumulate in my hands. Luck is one thing, perseverance is another. It's a whole other thing though to meet demand. For a while I worked...over two-thirds of a day, everyday just making away in my shops. In fact sometimes now, I'll make things for the joy of it and make hardly no profit off of it - compared to other things I could have done with my time." Otto sits back ignoring his drink "Lets add some stipulations to this deal then. I'll need someone attractive at my arm if I ever go to these camps. I do have a reputation to maintain after all. You will be that arm accessory of mine, who knows you might even enjoy it." "I also don't think this will be happening often. You also will learn to handle large sums of money. We can start with a million and work from there." "How does all that sound?"

Pretty much this. I expect the same to come of Ninja shortly, if it hasn't already. I've already seen a bunch of Narujas flipping around and spamming lightning mudra like it doesn't take any effort and seeing through smoke using sound :v Meanwhile, Val hasn't mastered a single mudra. He can barely use water, and even then it takes a looooong time to concentrate. I suppose some people just don't like the build-up, but I prefer it. It gives your character... well. Character. But what if they were always a ninja from Doma and not someone trying it out just now like Val? Doesn't it make sense then?

Pssst, there's a quest in Coerthas where you have to go rescue a bunch of whiny Dragoons in Whitebrim. They're just as diverse as any other job/class/group. There's the elite, and there's the babbus. The hardcore isn't so much in their 'nature' as it is in the way we the fans raise them up. While this is true, there is also the fact that the job description is indeed everything I said. How individuals drum it up is one thing, how the job is broadcast is another.

My personal theory as to why people aren't favorites of Dragoons in RP is because they are bona-fide and verified badasses, especially compared to the other jobs. How many jobs in game, especially the melee dps ones are just as hardcore as dragoons? Dragoons by nature are elite. They're not just strong berserkers, they're not just naruto ninjutsu masters, and they do more than channel aether like Brock Lee does and punch shit hard. They're the definition of martialed, what I can equate to Delta Force. They literally kill dragons and they live for it, how many monks punch dragons to death and how many ninjas cut a dragon 1000 times to kill it? How many warriors swing an axe hard enough to kill a dragon (in fact we see in the Heavensward trailer the derp-master giving up his warrior ways to be a Dragoon). There could be an argument for BlackMages being just as 'powerful' as dragoons because they also straight bring the boom. In short Dragoons by their nature are hardcore. Not all jobs have this background, and thus people want to discount them outright (at least subconsciously) because the job feels way stronger than they are (and its very possibly true depending on your take on lore). Believe it.

Otto is still away and fucking off in Coerthas, far away from the annoyances of the city. His hair is starting to grow back and its greying slightly.

"I differentiate myself by being good at business. I create works of art with my hands. Its no accident I had my meteoric rise to fame and fortune. I have a passion for creating fashion and I have no equal. What do fools like Jameson Taeros or others like him do?" Otto starts to become more vocal with his hands as he speaks, irritated "They can't run a business. They can't make things people desire with their hands. They're political runts, with more criminality in them than honesty could ever be." Otto sits up and forward on the edge of his chair as he keeps speaking to Eva "Think of it like this. Tomorrow...if I lose...50 million gil, nobody cares - least of all me. Want to know why? I am beholden to no one. I've worked hard to maintain my independence in this city and I wear it with pride. I don't have people I need to maintain bribes with, I don't have vital connections I need to maintain with underworld elements. I refuse to even take business partners or investors. I wouldn't need their help anyways anymore, but the world could come to an end before I allow myself, my own tiny kingdom I've built, my everything to be not under my complete and total control" Otto jabs his fingers into the table as he continues into his rant "Tomorrow if lets say...Addleton Corntal loses 50 million gil, you may as well sign his death certificate tonight. Lesser men like him to inherited their way into Syndicate affiliation, constantly greasing palms and bribing everything that breathes so they can avoid the Headsman - they can't handle sudden loss like that. They're criminal garbage who can't exist on their own merit. The moment they run out of coin is the moment they are gutted like any common thief. They can't run a shop, all they know is underhandedness. They resorted to smuggling, bribing, arm-twisting, and ultimately leaning on the Syndicate totally for their existence." "Am I self-centered? Absolutely. I brought myself up from relatively humble beginnings in this city to being too powerful at times. Outside of whoring, drugs, money, and whatever fancies me for the day there isn't a lot I care about. Not anymore. Not presently anyways..." he trails off for the briefest instant before regaining his composure as he notices a barmaid approach the table with concern on her face. Otto gives her the fainest turn of the head, holding up two fingers again for indication to bring two more glasses. She hurries off wordlessly, what he would prefer right now. Otto closes his eyes as he breathes in deeply, exhaling heavily. Re-opening them with no amusement in his expression he replies to her question "No I don't think I care too much about the betterment that was brought to people with the money I gave you. But that doesn't mean I wont give more anyhow. How much do you want? How much can you handle? One million? Four million?"

Otto takes the slightest sip from his drink, wanting to avoid losing his sobriety too much with this woman. Setting his glass back on the table he shakes his head once as he speaks "Mmm I would like to think justice takes on the form of custom or what is already established. What gets assigned as customary and established is whatever shows the most might. I would not like to think of it as this nebulous concept that you can't assign even a border to. You could say 'Well what is custom?' I like to think custom is what people can most consider agreeable. Think about the people who have by and large ignored your desire to be radical with their idea of what should be customary. There hasn't been a revolt in Ul'Dah for some time, mostly because people have assigned antiquity to our ruling family and accepted them as just and fair, what they can agree to. What other reason would this peace remain?" "I think I can further make my point with what you just said. 'Why does a man of my status need the Syndicate'?" Otto rubs his eyes with both palms of his hands, tired and wishing he were elsewhere with this woman - not this city. "Well a man like myself has no status. I came to Ul'Dah as an outsider, selling everything my past life had in it to afford the move and to try to establish myself here. People chose to not ignore me because I offered generosity and fair and just pricing. I never gouged, even when I could. Even now you can buy one of my finest Ruby Rings for less than four-hundred thousand gil. I've personally held in my hand a competitors ring that had three times the asking price and one-third less workmanship. Despite all of that - making a large amount of gil was nothing in this city. Joining the Syndicate is what I needed to do to have status assigned to me - because that is customary, and fair for this city. Just like nobility is automatically assigned fair treatment. You have to belong to your societies norms for status." Otto takes another, small and insignificant pull from his drink before setting it back onto the table "Forgive my rambling. You wanted to know specifics about the benefits of Syndicate?" "Well lets start with the easiest - having access to force. It gives me might, something so obvious that you can't dispute it." Otto holds up his hand as he continues into his example "People do not touch me, did you know that? Do you know how many times I've had little half-men Miqo wanting for an excuse to hit me to show off? And then you lean into these people get face to face with them, with your arms behind your back - totally defenseless and you tell them 'Do you really want to touch a Syndicate man'?" Otto holds his hand to his face to show closeness. "You don't have to say anything else, their bravado evaporates instantaneously." "Don't mistake me though. I am no bully. I mostly use Syndicate connections for business reasons. To trade favorably - to secure better interest rates. I very much view it as a club more than a political arm of Ul'dah'n governance - which it very much is. I refuse on a matter of principle to abuse the system like...so many other Syndicate people do. I don't break the law for the sake of it and smuggle, I don't twist peoples arms and get people out of their criminal charges. I view the Syndicate as a way to further my own business and I very much keep to myself. Its what makes me feel so superior to the rest of the louses running around within it - always scheming like children at the playground. They're so busy playing with mommy and daddies wealth that they can't run a proper stall - much less a business or even a collective of businesses." A thought of particular Syndicate men that Otto loathes with a passion crosses his mind and he outbursts at the mere existence of such petty people. He would take one last sip from his drink and then sling it with force into the wall perpendicular to their table several feet away. "Want to know whats wrong with me? Everything this city has to offer."

Otto stands with a knock on the table with his knuckles "I'll go fetch you another drink. In the meantime consider this. You may frame actions within the confines of a Justice System to paint them as just or unjust. Thats fine, but expand on that for me. I thought you revolutionaries sought to dispute the current forms of Justice - challenge what is 'right' and 'wrong'. Have something for me by the time I return." With his last words hanging, he turns and heads to the bar to signal for two more drinks. He stands while leaning to the side, propping himself up again with an arm as he leans and observes her thinking. He smiles for just a moment - enough to appreciate the fact that he is sitting across from someone who is educated - but also intelligent. Very different traits that many lack together. He would speak to the barkeep without turning his head towards him "Keep our drinks coming for the rest of the night, I won't be fetching them repeatedly." As soon as his words end two glasses smoothly slide across the bar to him and not a word of acknowledgment. There doesn't need to be. He takes his fresh drinks and walks back to his table with Eva, she gleaming in light from her freshly revealed chain she wears. He can't help but to think of how to work on her fashion sense. Another time perhaps. Otto stands before Eva smiling as he places a fresh glass on the table, again sliding it from behind with a finger to the edge of the table in front of her. He would take his seat at once, depositing his own tumbler on the table before clearing his throat to speak. "Before you go on with your ideas and ideals, I should do you the courtesy of answering your question. To be blunt I don't consider many, if any Syndicate members to be my compatriot because most of them are never going to be my equal. They aren't self-made, they lack the acumen needed to succeed without inheritance, most of them can't balance a ledger. These people are not my own. We are merely apart of the same...union to reap benefits."

Otto keeps his forward leaning posture as he bounces his reply off of her "But you studied Law correct? A 'barrister' you said?" "It's interesting your idea of Justice leaves no room for dispute. As in you disputing the facts of a case in a court. I was under the impression what makes Eorzean Justice so interesting is that it is in constant dispute by practitioners of Law when people are brought before 'Inquisitors' or Courts or any other system." With an almost disappointed expression he tilts his head to the side "Or were you speaking of something more...societal?" Otto would click his tongue off the roof of his mouth to make a 'tsk' sound "I suppose you are a revolutionary first and foremost though. Your undershirt is as much as an indicator as any." Otto shakes his head at his last immediate thought "As far as the Syndicate is concerned. I can assure you your disagreements with most of us would be far more than professional. Most of the people who are in this little organization are little lordlings, inheriting wealth from their parents with no self-worth or talent. True, some are shrewd at business - and even good at it. Most though are so incompetent and lazy that they resort to petty things like smuggling to make coin then pat themselves on the back and declare it a good day's work."

Otto maintains his posture as he continues to investigate more about the Elezen woman, wild-eyed yet still attractive. "I find it interesting you wear a scar on your face such as that, yet you don't flinch when its existence is brought up and you are quite calm in recollecting to others how and where you got it. I am not...trained in therapy and I don't pretend to understand your psyche but I have worked in fashion long enough to get to know women fairly well, and I was indeed married at one point. Most women would not be so at ease with a branding across their face like that, robbing them of their symmetry and beauty. Here you are though, showing it and speaking of it as if you had little care, humored even." Otto clears his throat "I'm more concerned with who and what you are over any conceivable threat I could face from Ishgard or even here in Ul'Dah." Otto inhales as he looks forward and takes in his surrounding. A table with this woman, at the Airstrip...in Ul'Dah. "You mentioned earlier...wanting to know about me and whats wrong with me due to caring? Well lets see. Tell me about your ideals of Justice and we can trade." Otto leans forward in his chair, speaking legitimately with a hushed and amused tone "I might even tell you why I hate the Syndicate more than you ever could."

Otto sits forward, keenly interested in what she has to say and her questions towards him. He finds her wholly more attractive almost instantly - if only because she is educated - though sadly young. He pushes his half empty drink far in front of him, near the center of the table. He is done with alcohol for now. He is drunk enough as is and the warmth in the air causes him to want to sweat so he pulls one button loose closest to his collar to open his shirt more with a hooked finger, running around the rim. Getting comfortable he relaxes as he looks across the table to the Elezen before him. "If I recall correctly..." he holds up a finger to his face to mime where she is scarred "you got that from your 'heresy' while up North. Yes?"

Otto would shrug and tilt his head with closed eyes and a defeated sigh "Share with me whatever you want. You've got my attention thus far, shouldn't be hard to keep it." He finishes his words with a large and lazy sip of his drink, not downing it instantly forcing a reaction from him - coming almost to a cough as he sets his glass down. He's had too much already but that only means he should drink more and quickly at a time like this. "Please go on" he gestures with a flourish of his hand.

Otto stands from his chair, taking off his coat and placing it on the back of his chair. He begins to roll up his sleeves after unbuttoning his cuffs. As he is pulling his bow-tie loose and unbuttoning his collar he looks down to her with a curt tone "I'll return shortly then". He leaves his bowtie to hand on the back of the chair as well as he heads to the bar. When he arrives he raises his brow in a sigh as he sits at the bar. "Just the usual Ocahn. Two please." The Roe behind the bar doesn't speak, doesn't change his expression, he simply turns his back to me and starts to craft the drinks. Otto sits on a barstool, one arm propped on it as he rests his face in his hand and looks to Eva at the table. Her posture so rigid and formal. >> (perspective shift) What does that woman want? Thats all I can think of. She is fair looking, she mentions lust for me but her tone left much to be desired. She's not seeking money, and he insists at every rebuff that she is just concerned about my mental state. I very much doubt this. I can count on one hand the amount of people that legitimately give a fuck about me past the shell of a person I parade around most days. Without looking away from Eva I tilt my head slightly in the direction of the bar. "Ocahn. Make a third please." Ocahn's seldom words humbly reach from behind the bar "You got it boss." I like that. I like it when a man, any man, understands station and works within its confines. It takes no time at all before I hear three glasses slid my way - drinks made the way I prefer. I take one and immediately down it, all at once in two large gulps, the burning instantaneous - making your stomach lurch in protest. I'd grimace, but I've gotten used to it and instead only the slightest perspiration hits my forehead for a moment until I wipe it away. Sliding the empty glass back on the bar, I reach to my pocket and pull a ten-thousand gil coin and leave it on the bar. "That's too much Otto you know that." Ocahn's ability to humble himself at all times, in the face of more gil than he earns in a year never fails to impress. Normally I'd talk to him but instead I take the two remaining glasses and walk back over to my table. I make it a point of setting one of the glasses down in front of Eva, sliding it with a finger pushing the glass from behind to the edge of the table directly in front of her before I take my seat across from her. >> (perspective shift) Otto would take his seat across from her, setting his own glass down with a bit more care and attempting to put on a more cheery facade. He leans back in his chair and crosses a leg again, letting it dangle idly as he regards Eva while turning the glass with his pointing finger and thumb. "So, Three Hearts." Otto clears his throat as he takes only a minor sip from his drink, enjoying its flavor as the orbs of ice clink in it alongside the glass when he sits it back down on the table. "The ideal goes like this Eva. All men and women possess three hearts. All have equal weight and importance. The first one is the one we use to show the outside world. The second, is our inner-selves we only show our loved ones and family. The third one is our most inner-heart. No one but ourselves can ever see this one under any circumstances. Otherwise we would die. I have dictated every day of my life off of this philosophy for a very long time now." "What you see before you here and now is my outer heart. There are..." Otto would look up as he emphasizes his next words "few who have ever and will ever see my second, inner heart." Otto sighs again as he takes another sip from his drink, clicking his tongue off the roof of his mouth as he sets his drink down with pursed lips, mulling over what to say next to Eva. "What else would you like to know? Or what would you like to share about yourself?" Otto tilts his head as he speaks "I could ask you aimless questions all day - instead why don't you treat me like Leanne again and share with me something you /want/ to share."

Otto removes his black cotton gloves and throws them on the table haphazardly. He pinches at his temple with squinted eyes as he grimaces a moment before regaining his composure. "Look...uh Eva. Do you not understand your position right now?" He says this tilting his head down while looking at her with a confusion across his face. "Let me paint the scene for you so you can remember. You came to me" he says poking his chest with his fingers on one hand. "You gave me a uh flier of sorts with your political rantings. Now I don't judge you for doing that - what was said on that flier though...and how you followed up with it once you learned who I was..." Otto sits forward, pulling his suit jacket closed but not buttoning it "Look ahh, first impressions matter. A lot. With anyone about anything. I'm not trying to punish you but lets be realistic - your mood swings involving me and my station could give the most stout of Roe whiplash. It's going to take a little more before I just...treat you as a confidant." Otto sighs heavily, slouched shoulders. After a moment he breathes in deeply , reinflating his person seemingly as he brightens and regards her. "Have you ever heard of the ideals of man and him having three hearts?"

Ive had my balls firmly busted more than once about being Syndicate affiliated. I've since moved on from that portion of Otto almost entirely and wont bring it up ever. My RP is definitely free spirit and I offer no apologies for it. However some things would bother me I guess. Miqo dragoons would be something that is flagrantly....'wat'. Outside of stuff that is just not possible lore wise, I dont care what happens.

Otto's natural contraceptive is sticking to Elezen females for the most part. The devs said a few years ago in the forums that cross-racial breeding is rare as fuck, aka bitter tea will fail first before Otto gets an Elezen pregnant. Miqo also suffice I suppose. So theres that.

Word.

Here here (Ottos favorite fem-lander)

For a lot of reasons I can flesh out IC/OOC Otto wants and needs to be the fuck away from cities for a while. I've been on a massive PVE binge since the last patch, farming the fuck out of SCOB for glamour and Im done basically with it. So I want to say Ive basically been in Coerthas the whole time, just sort of up and left - stormed out of Ul'Dah with a massive "fuck this city and everything in it" for a while. So...the RP would involve me having alrady been in Coerthas for a couple of weeks just sort of decompressing. What I am looking for is RP of any kind really. For any reason if you were up there traveling and take a pit stop and I run into you - or your fishing - adventuring I dont care. I think the atmosphere of Coerthas could help make it interesting. Total strangers to me IC/OOC welcome I dont even care. Just something. Any ideas or any takers?