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Oblivion's Joy

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Kenta.....
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« Reply #240 on: September 21, 2012, 08:31:20 pm »

Dubai

Being in the pilot's seat of a van once more proved to be a bittersweet experience for Kenta.  Just a few short weeks ago, he had been driving in his own vehicle, in his own country, with friends and family he had known all his life.  Now, though he was still fortunate enough to be surrounded by friends, he couldn't help but be reminded that the original group was probably all dead.  And driving through the streets was a ghastly experience at first, as he saw car after car smashed on the side of the road.  Whether the driver had been killed by Antichrist's evil magic, or spirited away by the true Messiah, the European vehicles suffered brutal destruction from their sudden, brake-less collisions at sixty miles per hour.  Every new sight had a story to tell.  Even when Kenta tried to distract himself from the carnage, reminders came in fresh waves.

"I'm turning on the radio," he announced at one point, after seeing half of someone's bloody face firmly implanted in her wrecked steering wheel.  "Anyone have a particular station in mind?"

The women were quiet.  Kenta glanced back for a moment, but received no helpful comment, so he shrugged and turned the dial.  "Really?  Don't tell me I'm the only one here who ever listens to the radio."

Static noise emitted.  Kenta flipped through the stations, not caring if he heard music or words, even if it was in French.  He was about to give up when the receiver picked up voices.  For a moment, he rejoiced, but the emotion quickly died as the voices sounded increasingly pained.  Whispers, groans, and angry-sounding mutterings came from the speaker, none in English, but all sounding alike.  Kenta looked at Jeanne, whose face was whiter than usual.  He hesitated to speak, but curiosity got the best of him.  "Can you understand what they're saying?" he inquired.

Jeanne nodded.  "Please . . . turn it off."

No direct answer for him.  Nevertheless, Kenta obliged, and after a minute, Jeanne spoke again.  "They're saying 'it hurts, it hurts,'" she murmured.  "And . . . other things."

Nothing more was said, following this disturbing episode.  However, as the hours passed, and the scenery changed from a broken town setting to open farm fields, the passengers started to feel a little better.  It was even getting brighter out, so that in spite of the occasional crashed car on the roadside, things appeared almost normal.  At Saphiel's suggestion, they stopped for a picnic lunch on a grassy range, and a bathroom break.  For the time and place the world had become, it might have been a typical road trip.

On his way back to the van, Kenta noticed a pointed building over the next rise which, as he continued to watch, resembled a radio tower.  Having mixed feelings about its implications, he climbed back into the driver's seat, and looked to the others present: Saphiel and Jeanne.

"Where's Neige?"

"She should be back in a minute," answered Saphiel.  "Is everything okay?"

"I'm thinking about flipping the radio back on," Kenta said, reluctantly.  "I know our first experience was unpleasant, but I see there's a nearby tower this time.  It means we'll probably be hearing the living instead of the dead, if it's functioning properly."  His finger hovered above the knob.  "Although when I think about who's controlling the remaining media, I'd almost rather hear the dead."

"Do it anyway," said Jeanne firmly.  "We should hear what they have to say."

Neige's figure appeared at the side door of the van, and Kenta switched on, turning it up so she could hear.

"-of the great Monarch himself!  So it is with great excitement that we turn now to our OBNS anchor in Dubai of the United Arab Emirates . . . Nett, any updates?"

"Not yet, but we're on the edge of our seats as we wait for Her Royal Highness to make what's certain to be a gracious acceptance statement.  For those just tuning in, we are live in Dubai, where we learned just twenty minutes ago that His Excellence, Louis Cypher, will be visiting shortly.  We understand that he intends to honor the city responsible for what is perhaps the single greatest good done in recorded history.  For thousands of years, we have all been separated by our various beliefs, and the Arabic world in particular has been targeted for its gross religious intolerance.  However, this has all changed with the advent of the Mark, which was first invented and tested in this very city.  Now Prostrationism, the fastest growing world faith since Islam, is putting an end to all religious feuds with the help of the Mark.  As such, Dubai may soon be the very heart of the new World Community, while the United Nations continues to function as its brain.  Meanwhile, some have even speculated that Mark will become mandatory rather than optional, considering its wildfire success in the past three and a half years."

"In light of the recent worldwide catastrophe, we send our condolences to those in mourning.  But we must also rejoice, because this is the crowning triumph we have all been hoping for.  Imagine, real world peace, forever!  As we wait for word from Queen Jez-Baal, let us reflect upon the wisdom of Dubai's spiritual leader, the Mahdi of Halal.  In the spirit of the occasion, he revives an ancient proverb from the noble Arab race.  ‘What is destined will reach you, even if it be underneath two mountains. What is not destined, will not reach you, even if it be between your two lips!’  My friends- destiny approaches!”


Kenta felt a chill down his back.  When the station cut to a song, which sounded like a funeral dirge with electric guitars, he lowered the volume and sat, speechless.  It was Neige who spoke next, and her voice was unrestrainedly hard.  “So.  We know where that murderer is headed, now.”

“What’s the point?” Kenta asked, overwhelmed.  “I hate him too, but Antichrist is more powerful than all of us.  If he pulls another trump card like he did with this world makeover, we won’t stand a chance.  What could we possibly hope to do to him?”

The question was meant to be rhetorical.  Therefore, when Jeanne spoke up, Kenta wasn’t quite ready for the answer.

“It isn’t permanent, but . . . if it really is almost time for the Mark to be compulsory, Antichrist has to die first.  It says in Revelation 13:14 that ‘the Beast was wounded by the sword and lived.’  Earlier, the wound is called deadly, and it’s done to one of the Beast’s heads.”

“A beast with multiple heads?” asked Neige.  “Isn’t that just symbolic, then?  Louis only has one head.”

“And besides that, what do you mean, his death won’t be permanent?” added Kenta.  “Death is permanent for everyone.  Except . . .”

“Except when it was the Messiah’s,” finished Jeanne.  “So if anyone is going to try to imitate the resurrection, it will be the false Messiah.  If the time is right, it’s a matter of days.”

“Are you saying we should go after him with a sword and kill him?” asked Saphiel, staring at her Heroic Spirit.  “Even though, according to your own words, it’s pointless?”

“It will happen no matter what.  God’s prophecies always come to pass,” replied the Saint.

“Well then . . . let’s consider the consequences,” said Kenta, suddenly much more interested.  “Whoever kills Louis will become the world’s number one public enemy.  But they’ll also be seen as the greatest resistance faction, for anyone who’s still seeking to fight back.  Even if it’s none of us, it will likely be somebody we can trust."  He cranked the key and started the engine.  "If we want a chance to meet this person, we'll need to get to Dubai, and fast.  He or she will likely have a sword, right, Jeanne?  And this person will need to have the traits of a master assassin . . ."

"Obviously, there's no easy way to spot out a master assassin," pointed Neige.  "But in a world with Heroic Spirits, we have a certain likely candidate, don't we?"

"Assassin," said Saphiel steadily, staring down the road ahead.  It wasn't an echo.  Having interacted with several Heroic Spirits thus far, they still had yet to meet the majority of the Servant classes, Assassin amongst them.  Yet there was no guarantee that it even would be Assassin who performed the deed.  For all any of them knew, it might be one of them.

"So, are we really going to do this?" asked Kenta, gunning the engine.  Jeanne's gaze sharpened.  "I feel convicted.  If you all are with me, let us confront that evil man."

"We'll never beat him there in this van," said Neige, even as they lurched forward.  "An airplane or long-distance mass teleportation are our only realistic options, and I don't see the latter happening."

"Check the glove compartment for a map," muttered Kenta grimly, pushing the van up to seventy miles per hour.  "Find the nearest operational airport.  We'll go undercover if we have to, or use unorthodox methods, whatever.  But we're going to learn to travel fast in this world."

***

After a couple weeks of writer's block, I decided the only way over it was to do something huge.  Therefore,  I did lay down a certain time clock (three and a half years to go), and set a blatant foreshadowing in accordance to the writings on the Antichrist.  Hope it's not treading on toes.
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« Reply #241 on: September 25, 2012, 09:43:48 am »

Capture

That night, while the freed Executors slept soundly in their room, Lei hid within the shadows in Guan Yu’s quarters, undetectable in both sight and presence, as a master assassin of his caliber ought to be. Iskandar was asked to remain in his chamber, which was just adjacent to the lord’s, should the need arise for the king to step in. The Macedonian had argued that he could stand guard in spirit form, which was invisible to the naked eye, but his aura was too commanding and direct to be concealed. It would be better for the Earth Sentinel to act alone. They had agreed to keep watch, and hopefully catch the perpetrator, who would most likely be trying to procure the deity’s weapon through the same violent means as it did with Guan Yu’s comrade.

There was not a sound in the room, only the chirps of crickets from outside. The Earth Sentinel waited patiently, submerged in the darkness cast by the walls. Considering the victim of the previous crime, the suspect might be a martial arts expert, skilled in the techniques of internal injuries, of disrupting one’s blood circulation. Having studied various forms of fighting styles in his youth (although never having truly mastered any single one), Lei pondered the possibilities of a Heroic Spirit that would be capable of such a skillful strike that would take the life of the enemy in a single move. Most martial art experts were honorable people with upright personalities, all implausible candidates. There was one, however, that was constantly surfacing in his mind, simply due to a famous quote he once read from a history textbook: ‘I do not know what it’s like to hit a man twice’, said by one of the most famous practitioners of Baji Quan, ‘Divine Spear’ Li Shuwen. While he was more well-known for wielding the spear, his fists were just as deadly, as could be inferred from his quote, and his notoriety was such that his life ended with a serving of poison. Lei grimaced at the thought of facing an enemy who can kill with one strike of his fist. He would rather die fighting valiantly than something so swift.

Hours passed uneventfully, and Lei was starting to doubt if the murderer would show up at all. Maybe it changed its mind after witnessing the failed execution, knowing that Guan Yu would be on higher alert now that he figured that he would be next, and that the killer was still on the loose. Maybe its motivation was not about the Pieces of Eden at all, and was merely exacting a vengeance on the victim. For one, Guan Yu had never mentioned how the Crystal Skull came into his friend’s possession. It could have been a stolen artifact, and the murderer was merely trying to reclaim it. Or maybe, he should not be theorizing so much, and just focus on the task at hand. Lei scowled at his own train of thought, annoyed at how adept he was at distracting himself when given time alone.

Every single hair on Lei’s skin stood up on its end suddenly, like an instinctive alarm, pulling Lei back into reality. His eyes darted around the room cautiously, looking for any signs of intrusion. The curtains were billowing, but there was a draft from outside to explain for it. The assassin could easily have used the wind to conceal its entrance, reasoned the Sentinel, giving the pretend-sleeping lord a stealthy prod on the arm to warn him. Whoever the murderer was, it might be able to make itself invisible somehow, and if it had infiltrated the room, it meant that the killer could shroud its presence flawlessly as well, making for a perfect assassin. Guan Yu moved unexpectedly, mumbling incoherently as he turned lethargically to his side, still hugging his spear like a bolster, and then resumed snoring. He now had his back away from the wall, making himself vulnerable to attacks. Lei noted the ingenuity, but kept to himself, still waiting for the assassin to reveal itself.

A flash of green pulsed from the spear without warning, surrounding the room for just a split second before vanishing. A red-haired man clad in a crimson traditional Chinese garb had appeared out of the blue, standing right in front of Guan Yu, his right palm raised to land a blow. Lei lurched out of his hiding immediately, a knife slipping out from his sleeve and into his grasp. At the same time, the lord rolled out of his bed and onto the floor, sweeping low with his guandao. The assassin retreated quickly enough to avoid the two lethal attacks, making a beeline for the window. Lei fired the blade of his knife with a trigger, sending the metal flying past the assassin with a string of steel connecting it still to the handle. Then it changed course, looping downwards and coiling itself around the man’s arm, preventing his escape. The culprit eyed the line in surprise, clearly not anticipating a trick like this, but it was too late for him. A faint blue glow outlined Lei’s body, and extended across the weapon to the man, who twitched as electric current passed through him, knocking him out. Success.

Lei straightened up, casting a glance over at Guan Yu. “That light… was that your spear?”

“The Green Dragon Crescent Blade frowns upon deceit and concealment,” replied the deity, staring at the unconscious assassin. “Good work, Lei. Let us tie him up. We shall have our answers.”
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« Reply #242 on: September 27, 2012, 03:24:54 am »

Steamy

"Ah~... Pretty good end to the day." Kenji settled into the inn's small hot spring. To his left was Aoko, spreading her arms on the edge of the spring, sighing out a pleased "Yeah..." in agreement. She, much like Kenji, was apparently comfortable in her half-nudity, wearing the borrowed towel with little fuss.

On his right, Tamamo hardly seemed relaxed; she appeared to be much more energetic than mythology made the Sun Goddess out to be. As it turned out, the towel on her was barely less than what she normally wore, something that the Dawnblade took quiet notice of. "This is heavenly!" she chirped, clearly taking much more enjoyment out of their situation than either of her mortal companions. Leaning against the back of the spring, Tamamo turned her attention to Kenji, smiling. "See? The money worked just fine. Aren't you proud of your wonderful Servant, Master?"

"Normally I'd have a problem with it, but considering what's happened, it's a worthwhile investment. Well done, Tamamo," Kenji praised, earning a suppressed squeal from his deific Servant.

"We'll do just fine if Tamamo keeps this up!" said Aoko, prompting both Tamamo and Kenji to laugh in response. The ronin tipped his head back as he quieted down, relaxing in the warmth of the spring's natural waters.

A few comfortable moments of silence passed between the three as they basked in the spring. After a while, Kenji decided to speak up, addressing what was likely on his companions' minds, or at the very least, that of the Blue Magus. "We'll be busy again come morning. As nice as this town is, we need to keep moving."

"Yeah," Aoko agreed, nodding. "We do need to find those Pieces of Eden, after all. I don't wanna be stuck in this world forever."

"I wonder how the others are doing," pondered Kenji aloud. "If they're not headed for the hideout, they're probably collecting Pieces, too."

Aoko shifted slightly, pulling herself further up the wall with her arms still on the edge. "I think everyone would be. I mean, you can make a world that you desire, right? It sounds pretty tempting to me."

"It's like the Holy Grail, isn't it? Everyone wants it," Tamamo stated. It was a fact; power like that would definitely be desired by almost everybody currently in existence.

"Personally, I'd be fine with the world we had, as long as Monad's gone," Kenji commented, to which Aoko shrugged.

"We can probably wish that away." She paused, taking a moment to glance past the ronin in Amaterasu's direction. "...How'd you know about the Holy Grail anyway, Tamamo?"

"Throne of Heroes, missy." Tamamo retorted without missing a beat, her smirk shifting into a more pleasant smile as she continued. "I know other Heroes and stuff! Well, I don't know them personally, but I do know them."

Aoko blinked. "Huh... That's interesting."

"Being a Heroic Spirit would be interesting," said Kenji. Immortality was an intriguing subject. The thought that someone could live forever, like the True Ancestors, Dead Apostles, and Gods, was undeniably a point of interest. What someone could do with all that time, though, was the real question. Spending it bound in service to the Throne of Heroes had its perks, but exchanged freedom for being restricted to doing the bidding of another. "Although, if I was going to live forever, I'd rather do it walking the earth, not laying around until someone summons me."

Tamamo shrugged. "It's not a bad place to live, y'know. Endless fields of grass and great weather."

"I'd rather have technology," stated Aoko. Then her face faulted, looking comically melancholic. "Ugh... I just remembered. No more Internet."

"Internet?" The Sun Goddess's ears twitched. Temporarily depressed, Aoko gave no response.

Kenji chuckled; who would've thought a omniscient deity wouldn't know what the Internet is. "I'll tell you about it some time, Tamamo."

"Okay!"

The Blue Magus's mention of technology did get him thinking, though. Transportation would be considerably difficult without functioning vehicles. He decided to bring this up. "Thinking about it, if technology is gone, finding a way to the hideout will be tedious. Planes won't fly, and most modern ships won't run."

"Naaah, that's not true." Tamamo's confident statement struck her Master and Aoko with curiosity. She elaborated, "Spirits still get certain stuff working."

"You mean there're working vehicles?" Aoko inquired.

The deity shrugged. "Well, it's worth looking around for one."

Kenji nodded, "We'll have to keep an eye out for one, then."

-----------------------------------

Around five minutes had passed since their last chat, the three Japanese natives having took time to quietly relax once again in the spring. Aoko had turned around and folded her arms on the edge of the spring, resting her chin on it and leaning her upper half against the wall, her lower still submerged. Tamamo floated in the middle of the spring on her back, occasionally batting at the steam rising around her like a cat. Kenji hadn't moved much, mostly shifting to his side and staring away as he pondered.

"You know," he began, attracting both Aoko and Tamamo's attention, "we're probably gonna be together for a while. Couldn't hurt to get to know eachother, right? Granted, you two are famous in seperate ways, but I don't really know much about you on a personal level."

Amaterasu turned her head away, concealing what Kenji could only guess was a sad frown. "I'd rather not talk about my history."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Just about yourself, interests, that sort of thing."

"Oh!" Tamamo turned back to her ronin master, beaming once again. "I like serving under humans!" She waited a few moments, almost as if to give Kenji a moment to process what she said. Indeed, it was pretty weird, almost humorous for a goddess, powerful beyond measure on their best day, to serve mankind. Even the magic brawler seemed surprised, and curious as well. She continued after registering their reactions. "It's funny, isn't it? A goddess who serves humans? I'm talking about serving under one person though, not humanity as a whole. I'm really curious about the life of humans, you see." Tamamo paused, coing her head in the water in brief thought. "I also want a human to love me like a wife!"

Aoko smiled slightly as she shifted on the wall. "Sounds no different from any other person, that last line." She half-glanced toward the ronin as her expression shifted to one of curiosity, almost as if looking for support with her next question. "I mean, anyone else would want to be loved, right?"

Kenji nodded in agreement. "Of course. It's nice to love and be loved."

"So I think I'm reeeeeally lucky to score a male human Master like you!" Tamamo concluded, surprising her Master with the notion of being lucky.

"Lucky, huh...? Not a lot of people say that in reference to me."

"People usually think that they're really down on their luck to meet me in person," contributed Aoko, smiling wryly with her next statement. "It doesn't help that it often ends in me kicking their face in."

"I wouldn't think so," Kenji commented as he chuckled. "The title of Blue Magus carries a lot of expectation. That you can fulfill it makes me feel plenty lucky to have you with me."

The brawler laughed. "Flattery will get your face kicked in, too... Well, usually."

Tamamo rolled onto her side in the water and rested her chin on her hand, floating effortlessly. Her soaked tail swished back and forth behind her. "So the title of Blue Magus involves beating people up? I could've gotten that title EASILY."

It wasn't unreasonable for the mage in question to be offended at the Sun Goddess's words. Aoko turned around to rest against the wall again, leaning into it as she glared at Tamamo. "Of course not. It's because I inherited the Fifth True Magic."

"Oooh... True Magic?" The fox's ears twitched. "So you're like a goddess, then, since you can work miracles."

Aoko calmed down to address the Servant properly. "Yeah. I need a lot of energy to perform them, though."

"Places with lots of mana. Got it."

"Yeah."

Without missing a beat, Tamamo cracked a grin. "This world is basically teeming with mana, so I guess you're free to go wild here, huh?" Aoko shrugged in response, apparently not having thought about it.

By this point, Kenji had come to a conclusion that intrigued him, and decided to ask the resident expert on the subject, glancing back over at the kitsune. "If that's the case, I don't need Ethers anymore, do I?" Tamamo's blank, if confused look told him that she wasn't quite the expert he pegged her to be, and opted to explain. "Basically, it's liquid mana, usually drunk to restore part of your mana pool. I inject mine instead; found it's more effective that way."

"Oh!" Apparently, a realization hit Amaterasu following the ronin's explanation. "Is that what you people call it? We just used to call them Beads."

"Beads?"

"Beads. There're Soma Droplets and Somas that can heal your health and your prana at the same time, too."

"We still have those," interrupted Aoko. "We call 'em Elixirs."

"You and your funny names," mused Tamamo playfully.

A couple moments passed while Tamamo turned onto her belly and paddled back to the wall of the spring, taking up position next to Kenji again. With everyone settled, the ronin resumed the conversation, glancing over at Aoko, who met his gaze as he spoke. "Back on topic... What about you, Miss Aozaki? What're you into?"

Aoko pondered it for a moment, cocking her head. "Well... I do like fighting, but I don't like killing. I just like to break things. A life is a pretty valuable thing, after all."

"Mm, it is."

"I also really like take-outs... But that's not an option anymore."

"I suppose not..." Kenji awkwardly scratched the back of his head as Aoko sighed sadly.

"What about you?"

"He's a swordsman, right?" Tamamo interjected with a smile, however wry it might be. "Probably something mundane like "improving himself' or something. I've seen loads of them in my time."

Kenji tipped his head back briefly, unconsciously mimicking Aoko's look of thinking. "Well, I do a lot of exploring, and I like a good fight, but I'm fond of reading, too."

The Blue Magus seemed much more interested in her ronin companion after his quasi-introduction, offering him a somewhat friendlier smile. "Why didn't I meet you earlier? We can try to kick eachother's heads in some time."

Laughing, Kenji returned her smile in kind. "Sounds like fun. I'll look forward to it."

"So, how new are you to this girlfriend thing? You seem pretty attached to that Maxima girl." Aoko's interest continued growing, although this was by her own doing now, prying into the Dawnblade's private life or lack thereof.

"I think we're pretty far from being called an item," was all he gave. An honest, if simple answer.

Tamamo laughed in her increasingly typical cat-like manner. "He sounds like a virgin to me!"

Whether it was because of the general air of comfort, and the fact they'd been sitting half-naked with eachother long enough to make it worth getting embarrassed, Kenji reacted surprisingly casually, turning toward his Servant. "It's not like I haven't been on dates with women before. I'm twenty-five and a nomad, I get around in the literal sense. Nothing concrete's ever come of it, though, so yes, I'm a virgin."

"That's wonderful!" Tamamo's voice seemed to hit the volume threshold, at least without yelling; she was clearly pleased by what she heard. "I'll make sure that your first time will be with ME!" For her part, Aoko was visibly shocked at the declaration, mouth hanging partly open. "We can snuggle up in the same bed tonight, Master. I'll teach you all that you need to know... And more~"

"T-That's enough!" Aoko managed to stammer out in her embarrassment and surprise. Her cheeks were flushed. "You're so shameless!" The deity's response was simply to beam at no one in particular.

Kenji shifted to his back again, sinking a little further into the spring. "Either way, pretty bold claim there... And an early one to boot."

"Mikoooo~n!"
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« Reply #243 on: October 03, 2012, 09:01:54 am »

Assassins

“In my past life, there was none that surpassed my agility and my skills, and none that uncovered me in my hiding. You are the first to have bested me, and I am incredibly impressed,” remarked the assassin with a guffaw, despite his bounded state against a wide stone pillar. From one martial arts master to another, Guan Yu was cautious not to tie him to a mere chair, for it was easy to break and free himself. Nonetheless, it seemed like the killer himself had a code of honor that he lived by as well, much like many other Chinese pugilist of the old, conceding defeat gracefully to his foe and not making any attempts to flee. Or perhaps he was just bidding his time. Being an assassin himself, Lei knew the tricks of his own trade, making sure to check for hidden weapons, which he found none of. This Heroic Spirit was so confident in his martial arts that he did not bother with additional equipment that could weigh him down. Lei had known a few of those in his career, and he was extremely careful of such men. After all, they carry a weapon with them at all times: their fists. The red-haired assassin looked up at his captors, smirking. “I’ll be happy to answer your questions.”

“Who are you?” asked Lei, deciding to satisfy his curiosity first. “Of all the legends that I’ve heard, there’re only a few that can match your abilities.”

He held his head high proudly, replying, “You are looking at Divine Spear Li, Cangzhou, Hebei, practitioner of Baji Quan.”

The Sentinel was not surprised, nodding to himself in affirmation. “I thought so. Your stealth stems from the manipulation of your Chi, isn’t it? It’s almost unheard of. There has not been a second person who managed to follow what you had done.”

“It’s something I’m proud of,” answered Shuwen arrogantly. “Then again, I am proud of many things.”

“Even your capture?” asked Guan Yu, clearly annoyed by the crimson assassin’s personality.

He snorted derisively, looking away from the lord. “No.”

“Please don’t get on each other’s nerves. This isn’t what this is for,” said Lei, casting a glance at Guan Yu, who backed away to let him question the assassin by himself. He turned his attention back to Shuwen. “Who sent you?”

“Raidou Kuzunoha,” came the straightforward reply. “My Master.”

Lei paused, processing the information and letting the surprise subside quietly in his mind. The devil summoner was still alive. He should have expected that much from someone who was so in tune with spirits, demons and other creatures of paranormal. A person like him would be at home in a world like this. Interacting with the supernatural was his specialty, and considering his alignment with Louis, he was to be another competitor to reach the Tower of Babylon to reshape the world to his liking. Furthermore, he had time to prepare before the previous world ended. Who knew how many Pieces of Eden the Great Summoner had already collected in the time before the Conception came to be? He had an overwhelming advantage over the rest of the survivors already. Considering how scheming he was, it seemed very fitting for someone like him to have the Assassin class as Servant. The pieces match up, though the news was nothing pleasing. “…I really need to buck up now.”

The Sentinel tore himself back to reality, and at the fellow Chinese assassin. “How many Pieces of Eden does your Master have?”

“Four, as far as I know,” said Shuwen, counting in his head. “The Crystal Skull, which I had robbed from the previous owner, the Book of Nine Gates of Hell, known as the Delomelanicon, the Candelabrum of Foundation and the Ring of Solomon.”

“You sent the Skull away?” spoke Guan Yu with a hint of fury, stepping in. Lei grew wary, afraid that the lord might just rip the skull of the perpetrator out to replace the Piece of Eden that was lost. “Where is it!?”

Li Shuwen shrugged. “Gone to my Master with the aid of a Pixie. I do not know where he is now.”

“Audacious!” roared the lord, picking up his blade that was leaning against the wall. “I shall have my revenge, assassin!”

“Lord Guan Yu!” exclaimed Lei hurriedly, trying to stop him. “I’m not done!”

“Move!” he growled, gripping the heavy guandao with whitened knuckles. “He slew my comrade, and stole his treasure! His soul shall know no peace if I do not kill this man!”

Iskandar, who had been sitting at the sidelines to spectate, leapt to his feet and towards the bearded warrior with swiftness unfitting of his size. With a quick step, the king moved in and grabbed the Green Dragon Crescent Blade’s shaft, stopping Guan Yu from advancing towards Shuwen, staring right into his fierce eyes. “Hold it, Guan Yu. Think of the big game. Your friend’s death is a part of something much larger. Avenging him by killing Assassin over here will eliminate our only lead to one of the main players, and you may never find the Crystal Skull to return to your friend. I’m making a wild guess here, but wouldn’t your friend rather have his treasure back than the death of the thief?”

“…Hm.” Guan Yu pulled the Piece of Eden away from Iskandar, but with calmness that assured the Macedonian to let go. “What do you propose, then?”

“Unfortunately, my time seems to have run out,” spoke Shuwen suddenly, looking down with interest at a vermillion magic circle forming beneath him. “A Command Spell has been used, and while I’d love to stay and chat, I’m being forced aw–”

The spell exploded with light, and the assassin plunged down into the brilliance as though the floor ceased to exist. Then it closed up, leaving the ropes as the only trace that Li Shuwen was here.

Lei groaned in disbelief and exasperation, rubbing his temple. “Back to square one.”
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« Reply #244 on: October 15, 2012, 03:36:11 am »

Neutral versus Good

With a theraputic bath and full night's rest, Kenji felt completely revitalized as he made to leave the inn with his companions. Adjusting his jacket and shirt, he didn't notice the collection of faint, assorted shadows behind the rice paper door that comprised the inn's entrance at first. Aoko's hand grabbing his shoulder and forcibly stopping him helped bring his attention, however. He considered the likely of a gathered crowd, spectating some fashion of event, but thinking back on the method by which they'd paid for their night's stay, the ronin thought it much less feasible. Steeling himself for a potential fight, he opened the door, stepping out with Aoko and his Servant.

In unison, a party of soldiers, bearing varied features of demonic and human heritages alike, nocked arrows, training their bows on the party. Behind them, a crowd of onlookers was gradually gathering, wondering what was happening. At the guards' head stood a striking, purple-skinned samurai, bearing crimson facial markings and pale blue hair. An ornate golden saya hung behind him, housing a katana topped with a white hilt; without having yet seen the blade itself, Kenji thought it was distinctly probable that the sword was of comparable quality to his conceptual weapon, the Yawarakai-Te.

Opening his eyes, the samurai met Kenji's gaze and locked his sights on him, beginning to speak. "A certain innkeeper tells me that a party of three paid for lodgings last night. It took him until this morning to discern that the money used was counterfeit. What manner of man would take advantage of another's hospitality and offer him no legitimate compensation?" The question, however horrible it made them sound, was clearly rhetorical; this man was calling Kenji and his companions cheats. "You," the man continued, pointing a finger at the three, "wrong not only this establishment, but the law of this town with your scam. Taira no Masakado demands your plea: Guilt, or innocence?" Blinking, the name hit Kenji's brain like a brick shot out of a cannon.

The Dawnblade felt compelled to verify the man's identity despite their immediate predicament. "Taira no Masakado... You started a rebellion against the Emperor of your time and took three provinces, becoming known as a hero in the history books." Next to him, Aoko's jaw partly fell open as the realization hit her as well. Tamamo, unsurprisingly, was less impressed with the man before them, heralded as a demigod and protector of Edo, modern-day Tokyo. Perhaps she forgot about her muttered claim of lacking access to her full power...

"I did," he responded, his brow lifting in stifled curiosity." That, however, is far in the past. You should concern yourself instead with the present... I'll ask you again: Do you claim guilt or innocence?"

"Innocent~!" Tamamo chimed in, drawing Masakado's gaze. "So what if the money was fake? All we did was sleep in a bed and use some water. Isn't water common and free?" Planting her hands on her hips, she offered a confident smirk.

"The spring you bathed in must be purified daily of filth, and lodgings are dealt maintenance and cleaning following every occupant's departure. You give this inn unnecessary work with your illegal payment." He paused, his eyes briefly glancing up and down at the deity's fox ears and tail. A grunt left the man's throat. "You remind me of a kitsune, those deceptive beasts... Perhaps the money was of your creation, trickster?"

If she was a character in a manga, Kenji could swear that an anger vein was throbbing and bursting on Tamamo's forehead as she yelled, "I am NOT a TRICKSTER! Just because I have cute, twitching ears and a fluffy tail does not make me a trickster! Why does everybody make that comparison?!"

One of the archers drew his arrow back further, as if about to shoot the indignant goddess, but Masakado rose his hand, bidding him to hold his fire. "I see. I apologize for my mistake. However, you have avoided answering my question. If you do not have an answer, that only raises my suspicion..." Lowering his hand, the Taira samurai rested his palm on the pommel of his sword, drawing Aoko's attention to it. His tone, however calm, was distinctly intimidating. "The next question to go unanswered will see you all given a death sentence without further trial."

A tense pause slithered in and dragged along the ground before Masakado spoke again. "Tell me now, fox. Are you guilty of the counterfeiting?"

"She isn't," Kenji interjected, answering for his Servant. Masakado's intense gaze drifted back to him as the ronin continued, "I used the fake cash to pay for our night here. If anyone's guilty here, I am."

"Kenji--"

"Please don't, Aoko." The Blue Magus blinked, not expecting to be interrupted. What Kenji was doing could be considered both extremely stupid and selfless, taking responsibility for what the lord of this town clearly thought was a crime punishable by death, despite how it was Tamamo's fault they were in this mess. She appeared to be torn between letting her jaw hang in astonishment, and slugging him in the skull to knock sense into him... Or knock him out..

With no other interruptions, the Dawnblade continued, "Tamamo did make the money, but I took and used it, knowing damn well that it wasn't legal. I did it because we're going to need the rest for our trip." Almost as if anticipating the samurai's next question, he explained further. "Tamamo is my Servant, and I'm her Master. As far as I'm concerned, anything she does is my fault, whether it's right or wrong." Behind him, Amaterasu was visibly shocked at her Master's conduct, the faintest blush on her cheeks for reasons unknown.

Masakado tilted his head, contemplating the 'testimony' presented to him. Inevitably, he posed a new question. "You take responsibility for her transgression?"

Kenji nodded.

The Taira samurai slowly drew out his katana from its ornate saya, the morning sun glinting off of it as he brought the tip up, staring down the silver blade at Kenji's throat from a distance. "Then your deaths will absolve you of your crimes and cleanse your dishonor... Starting with your fox."

His response swift, Kenji pulled the Yawarakai-Te free of its scabbard without hesitation, falling into stance with his conceptual weapon at his side. He scowled at the man of legend before him. "You're not going to touch either of them."

Intrigued, Masakado's brows lifted. "You would rather fight for criminal ilk than submit to honorable redemption? Interesting... Very well." A smile briefly touched his lips before it reversed into a frown, the man claiming his own stance, sword held in both hands above his head. "Taira no Masakado will take your head to satisfy the demand for justice!"

Before either man could move to attack the other, a white blur fell from above before Masakado. Aoko immediately identified her as the white wolf tengu from the day before. Where she was unarmed that time, she now wore a maple leaf-emblazoned targe on her back, and a large, curved sword hanging behind her waist in a similar fashion to Masakado's weapon. She bowed her head, offering the man deference. "Taira-dono! (Lord Taira!) Inubashiri Momiji, reporting!"

Unmoving from his battle stance, Masakado kept his glaring gaze fixed on Kenji, who looked at the new arrival with mild curiosity, as he addressed his apparent underling. "Speak, Momiji."

"A large army is approaching the town from the south. They fly the standard of the Oda!"

Masakado said nothing; his curiosity gave way to suppressed anger, his features shifting the most they had since he arrived on the scene.

Kenji and Aoko, on the other hand, reacted with unified surprise, completely discarding their immediate predicament. "The Oda?!"



Inubashiri Momiji: http://imgur.com/a/6XZxq
Taira no Masakado:
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« Reply #245 on: October 16, 2012, 11:24:04 pm »

Storming the Fortress: Round Two

Back when life was normal, Kenta used to make fun of cloaked people in almost every anime, video game, and roleplay story he was involved in.  After all, they were more trouble than they were worth, right?  Whoever wore them was at constant risk of tangled feet, and the hood blocked any hope of peripheral vision.  Furthermore, the moron who wore it would ironically attract more attention than if he'd left it off, which was precisely the opposite of what he wanted.  Although . . . Kenta had always suspected that manga cloak-wearers liked the attention, because cloaks made them look cool.

Now, cloaks had become necessary.  When Saphiel explained their necessity for the "Airplane Boarding Operation," Kenta was quick to voice his objections, and reasons.  Therefore, when the group parked the van in the Las Takas Airport, three Mariachi men clambered out.  Enormous ten-gallon sombreros covered their faces, and decorative Mesmerize-fur ponchos concealed their bodies from neck to toe.  There were even instruments and fake mustaches to go along with the set.  It was ridiculous-looking to a fault, but it allowed room for sight and clear footsteps, and it was appropriate for this area of the world.  Apparently, whether this had been Spain or Mexico, the entire cultural region had moved.

"Just like in the Planeswalking trial," commented Neige.  "Step one.  Hide in plain sight."

A dismembered sigh came from Jeanne's direction, though there was nothing to be seen.  "This thing is completely demeaning.  Let us finish our task as quickly as possible."

Nobody argued.  They silently took up their bags of stolen clothing, and the musical instruments that they had pillaged from one man's house.  The heavy bags would serve absolutely no practical purpose, nor would the instruments; these were merely part of the illusion that they were normal musicians, on their way to a gig in another country.

"There are cameras everywhere," Saphiel had warned, as they approached the metropolis.  "We'll have to short them out, until we can conceal our faces."

"Every person's eye is a camera as well, Kenta had responded grimly.  "At least, those who have the Mark.  Don't get caught."

Sniping or neutralizing every camera with static, from the edge of the city in, made preparations lengthy.  It was even worse to think that they were being spied on, which considering the Beast, was now more dangerous than Soviet Russia had ever been.  But finally, Saphiel, Jeanne (who was invisible), Kenta, and Neige made their way through the glass doors, and into the airport security check area.  There was a row of full-body scanners awaiting them, but absolutely no line.  Kenta had to remind himself that he shouldn't be surprised, with the population as dwindled as it was.  Behind him, he barely heard the words Haste and Triple being whispered, between Saphiel and Neige.  With that, every last bit of the preparation work was done. Here we go, he thought, moving forward.

Immediately, the eyes of the Hispanic TSA were upon them, and a couple of the uniformed employees headed a step or two their way.  Again, Kenta was unsurprised.  The Mark wasn't being enforced just yet.  As far as these guys knew, they weren't members of the Beast, and therefore, highly suspect.  How right they were.

Step two: put the dragon to sleep.

Neige raised one of her maracas and mouthed "Sleep."  At once, three Sleep spells powered by Triple overtook three guards, and Saphiel quickly took care of the others.  That was their moment to move. Snatching Neige's hand, and holding his sombrero tightly with the other, Kenta made a M.A.G.I.C.-induced dash for the opposite end of the room.  Saphiel, enhanced by Haste, charged behind him, and the three of them made it as far as the baggage room before the first wave of security appeared.  Again, a Tripled Sleep spell plus Saphiel's advanced magic downed the police before a shot was fired.  There was to be no spilling of the Beast's blood.  They had agreed to this ahead of time, for there was no telling what it would bring.  For now, they had to gain ground, and there was time: now that the initial wave of security was foiled.

"Clothes off!" hissed Kenta, tossing his giant hat onto the ground and ripping away the Spanish poncho.  Beneath was his second layer: a clean white robe, with a fake beard tucked just under the neck.  As he hastened to wrap the turban around his head, effectively hiding his hair, Saphiel cast a Firaga spell upon the pile of discarded clothing and instruments, utterly obliterating them.  Then she and Neige pulled veils over their heads, completing the burqas that made up their second disguises.  Jeanne materialized between them, already wearing the Islamic women's garb that covered everything but her face.  Kenta waved them forward, whispering urgently as a thought crossed his mind.  "I'm sorry, I didn't do a thorough job of watching for cameras.  Did anyone get the ones on us?"

"I used a magical EMP of sorts," assured Saphiel, in a voice meant to sound soothing.  "Don't worry.  Even the hidden ones couldn't have escaped."

"Thanks."  Kenta pulled a couple of random bags off the conveyor belt and handed it to Neige and Jeanne.  "Here.  You're my Muslim wives now, and it makes you like servants.  You'd better be the ones to carry these."

Neige gave him an annoyed look, but Kenta just shrugged.  They had talked this over already, and Kenta was simply being accurate.  A few seconds later, an Abdullah (slave to Allah) and his three wives were walking through the terminal, looking for the next scheduled flight to Dubai, or at least a neighboring country.  More security swarmed around, but Kenta's group got no more than an occasional glance.  The Beast had seen three presumably-male Hispanic musicians breach the inspection area, not four religious Arabs who were mostly women.  As they walked, Neige checked for cameras and did quick calculations in her head concerning when they would be seen, and when they would not be.  They could no longer afford to jam the cameras, lest they should arouse suspicion.  When out of "hotspots," and passing other passengers, she would cast Stop on targets and pickpocket their tickets if easily accessible.  This continued until they had four random tickets, which would merely be made to look like the ones they needed.  Twice, Jeanne made a noise of disapproval at the continued stealing going on in front of her, but said nothing.  There was nothing to say.  This was the least sinful way they could think of getting on a plane without all hell breaking loose.

Step three: fly to the enemy stronghold.

By the time the group finally made it to the Dubai boarding area, there was a fifteen-minute wait scheduled to boarding.  The group lounging in the chairs, to Kenta's expectation, was composed almost entirely of Arabs dressed just like him.  Considering the location they were headed, it made sense.  He was nervous to just sit dormant, but it was the thing to do now, and hopefully things would stay smooth.  In the time the four of them waited, airport security made six or seven passes through the Dubai boarding lounge.  Nothing happened.  Even in the apocalyptic world of the Antichrist, folks were hesitant to discriminate against Muslims, lest they risk violent retaliation.  Would that change with the enforcement of the Mark?  Most likely, yes . . . but things wouldn't be any better.

As the time drew near for boarding, Neige wrapped her arms around one of Kenta's, and leaned close to his ear, putting on the "wife" performance for the crowd.  "Let's go last," she whispered, taking care that nobody else would hear English rather than Arabic.  "That way, there's no chance of causing a scene by being in someone else's seat."

Kenta nodded, just as boarding was announced in three languages over the intercom.  Trying to appear busy arranging his luggage, Kenta watched out of the corner of his eye, until he saw the last group of Arabs piling in behind the rest.  Following after them, keeping his "wives" in tow, he played his part up until it was his turn to produce his tickets.  He handed them over, hoping that Saphiel had done a good job of tampering with them, or brainwashing the receptionist, or whatever she was planning to do for this part.  However, his train of thought froze when the ticket lady dropped her stack onto the floor, not even looking at them.  Her eyes were glued to Kenta, boring into his head.  Her face was devoid of all emotion.

"How stupid do you think I am?" she asked in a calm, even tone.  "You think a little dress-up and sneaking around under the radar is sufficient to foil omniscience?  You think you can come out of the Forsaken areas, and into the Sacred grounds, and I won't see everything you do?"

Kenta cursed in his mind.  They had been so close!  Yet he kept his head, and responded with what he felt was their last hope, before switching to Plan B.  "So, everything's on the table, is it?  Then you know what comes next, don't you?  If you try to stop us, we'll take a plane by force- and don't presume for a second that we're not up for it."

"Now, now, don't be rash," replied the Beast.  "I am in control of this entire airport.  Don't you think that, in the time you were waiting, I could have removed every airplane from your reach?  Couldn't I have surrounded you completely, and had you fired upon until there was more lead in your bodies than flesh?  I have been testing you.  The four of you live by my grace."

Kenta felt a surge of anger; he was losing his patience quickly.  "So cut the crap already!  Are you going to let us onto this plane or not?"

The beast was quiet for a moment.  Then-

"I lied about being omniscient.  I learn from you.  I would not think to test you, otherwise."  The ticket lady's arm rose and pointed towards the plane.  "You will get on and head to Dubai, as planned.  I promise that you will be up in flames before the flight's end.  You will not turn back or try anything else.  These are not predictions, nor are they orders.  They are facts.

"And now, I wait."

After a moment of hesitation, Kenta and his group boarded the plane.

***

(Dudes, I'm really sorry for my silence.  I've been playing PokeMMO, which is basically Runescape if Runescape were Pokemon Fire Red.  It's like Nicotine, it really is.  If Pokemon Company really cared more about real-trainer interaction than profit, this would have been done a long time ago.)

(Oh yeah, one other thing.  We have a new kitten in the house.  I named him Cheezbrgr.  He's been eating up a lot of my off-computer time, but I'm not sorry at all for that.  He is just too adorable.)
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« Reply #246 on: October 18, 2012, 08:58:54 am »

Awww, a cat! Tyren has a cat too. Don’t start going down the slippery slope and accumulating more cats, now. You don’t want to be labeled as ‘that crazy cat person’.


Sakura Dance

An earth-shaking explosion signaled the start of a war, collapsing an entire row of wooden houses with a well-placed cannon ball. Masakado held his ground with his sheath for support, while several others lost their balance and fell. The horn of the Oda clan could be heard resonating across the town like an ominous herald of death. The townsfolk were scampering away from the streets, some of which emerging from houses with weapons and armor, all without prompt from the town chief. Their zealousness to protect their home was commendable, though against the mightiest force of the Sengoku era, it was doubtful that they had what it took to emerge victorious. The Oda clan was known for its impressive size of its army, as well as ingenious military strategies. It was the inventor of the volley firing system of rifles, during a time when rifles took time to reload, resulting in the complete and utter annihilation of the legendary Takeda cavalry, once thought to be infallible. Had it not been for inner strife, history might have turned out much more different.

Ryougi Shiki advanced into the town with hastened footsteps, but not running, her knife held firmly by her side and her katana kept inside the burgundy sheath by her waist. The right of her kimono bore the emblem of the Oda, indicating her allegiance, as did all members under the clan. She was like a silent specter, drifting from one rooftop to another with minimal effort and movement, searching for a prey, like a cat hunting for mice. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. She held her breath unconsciously, looking down at the panicking figures below dispersing to meet their enemies and inevitable death.

A red-skinned oni fumbled amongst them, weighing his club pensively, as though he had not yet gotten used to the mass of his weapon. He looked left and right cluelessly, watching the fellow townspeople heading off in separate directions, unsure of which path to take. Just then, he thought he heard the rush of wind behind him, and he turned round to look. A flash of silver blinded him momentarily, and the cold steel sunk deep into his throat before he could gasp. Despite his slipping life, all he could think at that moment was how beautifully the iridescent irises of his killer glimmered, and how devoid of emotion they were. Then his eyes spotted something else; a tattoo, brimming with magical energy, on the back of her hand. His beady eyes widened. She was a Master. A human.

Letting out one last gargle, he collapsed to the ground as Shiki removed the knife from his throat. The Godslayer resumed her stroll, unfeeling of her kill. Time for the next target.

“Gwargh!”

Blood exploded from the back of Masakado’s neck suddenly, and his lifeless body crumpled to the floor, taking Kenji by surprise. Aoko jumped back in shock, frantically looking around for whatever that hit the town chief. There was no sign of the killer. Whoever the assassin was, it was exceptionally skillful. The Dawnblade shifted away from the corpse cautiously, holding the Yawarakai-Te close to himself for defense. Tamamo, on the other hand, was eager to impress, summoning the mirror she had kept away during her first encounter with her Master into existence, reflecting the rays of the sun upon her surroundings in a way that defied the laws of reflection in physics, proving some authenticity to her claim as the Shinto goddess of the sun. A shadow was cast on the ground where there was nothing there to cast. “Aha! You can’t hide, ninja!”

Che (What)?” uttered the nothing. Then, a man abruptly appeared, right before their eyes. Lorenzo Auditore was standing before Kenji, smiling as he recognized a familiar face. As he raised his hand to wave, however, a blast of splinter, flames and smoke rushed between him and Kenji’s group, followed by a wave of debris from a cannonball strike. When the mess settled, a wall of rubble stood between them and the Italian assassin. How conveniently inconvenient.

“Isn’t that Lorenzo?” asked Aoko, who was still trying to process what happened.

Kenji blinked. “Yeah…”

“Master!” The swordsman whirled around just in time to see an arrow disintegrate into ash right before his face, destroyed by a timely beam of fiery light from Tamamo’s mirror. A slender, raven-haired woman led the ranks of soldiers behind her, and in her right hand was the bow that was responsible for the attack, while a blood-stained spear was in her left. There was a formidable aura about her, similar to that of Tamamo. Perhaps she was a Servant as well. Despite having a brown tail on her back, it seemed that it was but a mere décor, unlike the animated one that the sun goddess possessed. The fox Heroic Spirit frowned at the butchered tail, obviously disapproving of the cruelty towards her kind.

Returning the bow to the soldier behind her, she settled into combat stance with the spear. “Give in, or face the might of Tomoe Gozen!”



Alfheim

“Where… are we?”

Raising her hand above her face, Alina shielded her eyes from the piercing light that seeped through from the foliage of the canopy high above. There were trees everywhere, which really should not be much of a surprise for a forest, except for the fact that there were not supposed to be any near the Colosseum at all. And yet here they were, in the middle of a maze of lush greenery, with grass as well-trimmed as artificial turf beneath their feet. It was a nigh unmanageable task to maintain the entire jungle with such tidiness, but there was no mistaking what was before their eyes. There was some kind of otherworldly force at work here, the redhead guessed; a powerful spirit of the woods, perhaps. There were occasional glitters and sparkles in the corner of her eyes, but every time she turned to look, there was none. “Am I seeing things?”

Rider seemed at home in this place, perhaps reminding her of old memories, of a time before her downfall, before she cursed her own fate. In place of her visor, she wore a pair of spectacles that Touko had made for her, designed to seal her Mystic Eyes and also not break or fall off easily. She held a leaf of a nearby plant, running a finger down its central vein. Many tiny golden characters of an unreadable tongue surfaced where she touched, only to dissipate mere moments later. Nodding to herself in affirmation, she said, “This is an enchanted forest, inhabited by fairies.”

“Fairies?” repeated Alphard, looking around for any signs of the small creatures. “Aren’t they supposed to be mischievous little things?”

Alina giggled, shaking her head. “Don’t look down on them. They’re the ones who forged the weapons from legends. The Arondight, the Excalibur, Avalon, those artifacts with the engravings of Fairy Letters originated from them. The True Vampires themselves are classified as fairies, too. Very large fairies.”

“And you shall do well to respect us, mortal.”

In an act of impossibility, the trees shifted by themselves, or rather, the ground beneath them did, making way to create a path before the trio. At the end of this route was a throne, fashioned from twisted branches and beautiful flora. The sun poured down in the perfect position, unhindered by sunshade, illuminating the chair as though it was of some divine origin. A dark-skinned woman with sapphire eyes sat upon it, her shapely body veiled by the thinnest of silk and colorful flowers. A man would be very much bewitched by her inhumanly flawless beauty, or disturbed by it. There was little doubt in Alina’s mind that this woman was in charge of the fairies and this forest, given the lofty treatment towards her. The redhead cast an uncertain glance at Rider and Alphard, wondering if they were supposed to kneel before her presence. After a few head tilting and clueless gesturing, they did.

“Arise, mortals,” replied the scantily-clothed lady, lifting her hand. As she returned to her feet, Alina noticed that the woman had wings, barely visible ones, seen only when there was sufficient light shining off of them. In any case, it seemed that she held anything mortal, Heroic Spirit or not, in low regards. “I am Titania, Queen of Fairies. What business do you have in my realm?”

“We are just trying to return home,” answered Alina earnestly, looking up at the fairy. “It’s just… this forest wasn’t here before, and we’ve lost our way.”

Titania observed them with scrutinizing eyes. “You are from the Old World.”

The redhead nodded.

“Just like him,” mused Titania, her eyes still gazing fixedly at them.

Alphard blinked. “Who?”

“A man in love with nature, much as I am,” said the Fairy Queen, smiling at the thought. “Duke Pantarei.”


This is one part of more parts that I intend to write. I'm just posting this first to give Tyren something to think on and write about.

Tomoe Gozen:


Nobunaga Oda:



Titania:
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« Reply #247 on: November 06, 2012, 11:42:53 pm »

Pokemon Conquest sure is a fun game.  If you've never played Fire Emblem before, you got a little taste of it.

***

Hostage Operation

Once the group of four was aboard the plane, Kenta glanced to the left, at the Captain's cabin.  "I'll be right back," he murmured to Neige, reaching for the door.  She nodded.  "We'll be in wing seats."

Wing seats? Kenta wondered, but pushed the thought aside as he passed through the door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY.'  He was greeted by an unusual welcome; two men sat in the seats of Captain and Co-pilot.  But while the latter seemed busy with pre-flight checks, the Captain was turned around, staring straight back at the intruder who had trespassed uninvited.  Kenta waited a couple of seconds, scanning the Captain's upper body until he found what he was searching for.  Then the other pilot turned and glanced up from his preoccupation, apparently wondering what his partner had seen.  The moment his eyes fell upon Kenta, he gave a shout of surprise, then beckoned wildly while shouting something angry in Arabic.  Kenta assumed it was something to the effect of "Hey, what's your problem?  Get out of here before I have you thrown out!  In his best Arab accept, he raised his hands disarmingly and spoke.  "Sorry, sorry.  I always wanted to see what it was like up front.  I'm going back to my seat right now."

Kenta nearly missed his companions when he went to find his seat.  The population on the plane was almost exclusively Arab, and every single woman looked identical, apart from the color of her burqa.  He only recognized Neige by the empty seat beside her, and the slight drop of temperature as he neared.  He slid past and took his seat, but not before noticing that there was a crease in the cushion.  He gave Neige a puzzled look.

"Was someone else sitting here?"

Her eyes seemed to smile craftily under the burqa.  "Yeah.  A big, fat boor of a man.  Saphiel very kindly let him know that he was in the wrong seat."

Kenta raised his eyebrows, feeling suddenly more afraid of the harmless-natured Saphiel under the advisory of the crafty Neige.  "So where is he now?"

"Back in the airport.  Probably the bathroom.  You may as well get comfortable, because I doubt he'll be back in time for takeoff."

Scary, thought Kenta, unable to imagine what the two female magi must have done to him.  He was about to report his findings, but Neige put a finger to her lips.  "Not now.  Take a moment to sit back and relax.  We've been through a lot."

So that was that.  Neige didn't speak again until the airplane's speaker system crackled to life, and an Arabic voice began welcoming the passengers to the flight.  As soon as he started into safety procedures, Neige caught Kenta's eye.

"This voice should be a sufficient diversion.  Now, tell me what's on your mind."

"Man, you take no risks, do you?"  Kenta kept his voice as low as he could, without letting the Captain drown him out.  "The Beast threatened to blow down our plane in spite of the fact that there are civilians aboard.  When I checked to see who was driving, he was staring right at me, probably because he saw me coming through someone else.  I saw the Mark on his forehead.  But the co-pilot seemed totally oblivious.  I think he's just a regular guy who got caught up in this."

Neige was quiet for a moment.  "So it's a game of wits, is it?" she whispered.  "Hmph.  Challenge accepted."

"These other people are hostages," Kenta continued, glancing at the passengers.  "I mean, not all of them, but the majority, I imagine."

"So . . . what, do you want to save them?" asked Neige skeptically.  "They're probably on this flight to get their Marks in the very presence of Louis."

"Maybe.  But I'm following my instinct on this.  I wouldn't hesitate to kill a Marked person if I had to, but it feels wrong that these other people should have to die because of us."

Again, Neige spent a moment in contemplation.  "Fine," she said, "but it's a secondary objective.  Our first goal is to preserve our own lives, and that starts with a little counter-terrorism."

As the plane started to move, Neige looked over to her right, to the two blanket-covered women in the opposite seats.  She performed some quick sign language, and one of the women nodded in acknowledgment.  Kenta looked at Neige, puzzled again.  "What's going on?"

"You'll see.  In the meantime, how's your sword arm?"

"My sword arm?  Fine."

"Good enough to make a hole in the side where you're sitting?  Without harming the wing in the process?"

Kenta exhaled in relief.  "Yeah.  Sheesh, I thought you were going to have me slash up a bunch of people."

"That's not out of the question.  But don't worry about it right now."

Exasperated, Kenta gave Neige a look to say why do you do this to me?  She paid no heed.

"I suppose you can damage the wing a little.  But don't mess up the air flaps.  We'll need an airfoil before this is over . . ."

Neige had just finished her explanation when one of the women (Sapheil or Jeanne) got to her feet and headed down the aisle towards the ****pit of the plane.  A flight attendant hurried up to her, prickling with indignation.  "Excuse me, ma'am," she said angrily, "the seat belt sign is on, and the plane is about to lift off!  You need to get back into your seat right-"

In mid-thought, she stopped.  The cloaked woman continued forward and disappeared through the cabin door.  A minute later, Kenta was pushed back in his seat by the velocity of the airplane's takeoff, and then they were climbing through the air, propelled by the jet engines.  After a few more minutes, just as Kenta's ears were beginning to pop, the speakers came on again.  This time, it was the co-pilot who spoke.  He said something in Arabic, in a nervous voice, then repeated his announcement in English, still sounding worried.  "Passengers, we've been notified of some unanticipated weather conditions.  Due to the possibility of turbulence, I would ask that you remain seated for everything but emergencies.  We apologize, and at the same time, thank you for your cooperation."

Kenta blinked, confused.  "Turbulence?"

"I imagine that was the excuse," said Neige, a smirk in her voice.  "Picture this scene in the ****pit, if you can.  The Captain's most likely dead on the floor.  Our new pilot is currently flying with a sword-point touching the back of his head.  I'm sure Jeanne doesn't like it, but she is still a Heroic Spirit.  She knows how to do what must be done."

Counter-terrorism, huh? thought Kenta.  "So . . . you were afraid that the Marked Captain would have driven us straight into the side of a building before takeoff, or something?"

"If you were the Beast, wouldn't you have done something similar?" asked Neige rhetorically.  "The Beast doesn't die if some of its parts perish in a plane wreck.  But we do.  So we simply have someone control the plane who isn't the Beast.  The human desire to preserve one's own life, now saves ours."

Even if it means we act like the terrorists, thought Kenta.  The irony is poetic in quality.  We've just hijacked an airplane full of Muslims to make sure it actually lands safely.  Kenta, welcome to the Twilight Zone.

The next couple hours of the flight over the Persian Gulf passed without incident.  The only notable event was when another attendant came around with a cart, offering drinks to passengers.  When she reached Neige's seat, she smiled sweetly at the two of them, and offered a soda can with a strange smell of chemicals surrounding it.  Taped to the can was a note with just two words written in blood: embalming fluid.  The lid had already been popped open.  Kenta stared at the prank drink, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the dark humor.  Neige, however, just looked at the Marked attendant, appearing supremely unimpressed.  "A sticky note?" she said in a bored voice.  "Really?  That was the best you could do?"

The Beast responded with another smile, which appeared more like bared fangs.  Neige waved her away dismissively.  "If you want to be cute, go put on a bunny outfit.  We'll be fine, thank you."

Jeanne's warning announcement came at about five hours into the flight, jerking Kenta out of a brief slumber.  "Missiles!" she cried in alarm.  "Coming from the south!  Estimated two minutes until impact!"

Here we go again, thought Kenta, bounding out of his seat past Neige.  He unsheathed his Songale and raised it high above his head for every passenger to see.  Repeating the Arabic phrase Neige had taught him in their pre-flight conference, he shouted: "Listen, everybody!  If you don't want to die, raise your right hand NOW!"

Right hands shot up from every side.  At the same moment, Neige cried "Haste!" while Saphiel invoked "Stopga!"  Immediately, time distorted, so that every passenger aboard was rendered motionless, while Kenta's perception magically increased.  With enhanced time efficiency, he stared at each hand and forehead aboard, checking for the Mark symbol.  The Songale became a blur, then disappeared altogether, going so fast that it would have been impossible to see with normal vision.  In a matter of seconds, Kenta rounded the plane, then reappeared in a crouch at Saphiel's feet with a stained-red katana.  With that, Stopga expired, and the living shrieked in horror as the heads and arms of the Marked dropped from their bodies and scattered along the floor.

The airplane suddenly lurched forward at a sharp angle, and Kenta had to grab hold of a nearby seat to keep his balance.  Jeanne burst out from the ****pit, running nimbly up the aisle in spite of the distorted gravity and rolling dismembered body parts.  "I told the pilot to get as close to the water as he can," she said, pulling out her sword.  "All that's left now is to fake our deaths.  Tell me when, Master!"

"One more thing first," said Saphiel, sounding a little out of breath, but strongly determined.  "Let's try to increase the chances for the passengers!  Neige, help me reinforce the front of the plane."

Neige made a noise of disapproval.  "It would have been more convincing if we just let the airplane get completely blown to smithereens . . . Blizzara!"

"Mighty Guard!"

While the magi worked the front of the airplane, casting a magical barrier and developing a solid block of ice through the interior, Kenta and Jeanne nodded to each other and turned to their own tasks.  There would be no more talking for a while, just breathing through their noses.  As they had planned, Kenta made three quick strokes in the wall, and a triangle-shaped portion of the airplane flew out into the chilly air.  Far below, Kenta could see the churning waters of the Persian Gulf, and he hoped that they were low enough to survive the drop.  To his right, Neige reappeared beside him, still en-wrapped in her burqa disguise.  He knelt down just long enough to haul her onto his back, then carried on, wary of the impending missiles.  Swallowing his fear, taking hard, deliberate steps in his spiked shoes, he hurried across the outer airplane wing like a ninja, trying not to be blown off by the overwhelming rush of wind surrounding him.  He reached the nearest air flaps, planted his feet, and instantly severed them from the wing with two more strokes of the Songale.  Then his world spun out of control, as the airplane roared away beside him- above him- below him- distant.

Falling, falling-

"Aero!"

Then suddenly, he was upright again, riding the airfoil like a sky surfboard.  Neige's Aero spell had set them straight, so that their fall continued, but in a more forward, controlled manner.  High above them, four fast, bright objects briefly hurtled into view, before exploding in a fiery blaze against the front of the airplane.  Kenta immediately judged it as overkill.  He wondered if anyone in the plane could have possibly survived such an assault even with Saphiel's Mighty Guard, instantly convinced that nobody could have, without it.  Yet while airplane parts rained down from above, the main body dropped down largely intact.

Kenta had mixed feelings about it.  Perhaps they had saved some lives.  But Neige was right; if that much of the plane could remain, the Beast would undoubtedly be suspicious that its real targets had gotten out alive.  He had killed every Marked person in the plane ahead of time as a precaution, but that was all the more it was: avoiding direct observation.  The moment another Marked person saw them, the secret was over.

Neige had a mini-iceberg ready and waiting for them, as the airfoil neared the water.  Since his feet were still firmly spiked to the flap, Kenta failed to stick the landing and fell helplessly on his face.  He heard Neige laugh a little, then she kicked the wing fragment off his left shoe, freeing one of his legs.  He rolled over and kicked the other one off, then lay there, panting.  Finally, he managed to groan, "You know what would've been a lot nicer?  A parachute."

"Jeanne couldn't find one.  The Beast apparently thought that removing them from the plane would make it more interesting."  Neige smiled and tossed her burqa from one hand to the next.  Only then did Kenta notice that she was back in her normal clothing, having removed the Islamic cloak.  "But we had one anyway.  And failing that, Saphiel would have flown to our aid.  I just wanted to see if we could do it without her."

Kenta sighed, and pulled off his turban and fake beard.  "I never want to do anything like that again, for as long as I live."

"Yeah, you wish.  It's just another day at the office for members of the DHO."  Neige clapped him on the back proudly.  "And you did great back there!  For the first time, you've truly become part of the team."

At her words, Kenta felt flattered, but at the same time, humbled that it had taken him this long.  "You think so?"

"Well, you're not done yet."  Neige lay down against the icy ground, exhaling a long sigh.  "I've used up a lot of MP today.  It's drained me physically, almost completely.  Saphiel and Jeanne should be all right, but you're going to need to come rescue me."  She put emphasis into her final words.  "Before the search teams arrive."

Kenta acknowledged her last words unhappily, and forced himself to his feet.  His adrenaline had begun to fade, but it quickly picked up again as he leaped off the iceberg and onto the water.  In a spray of ocean, he was off, running across the water as though it were solid ground.  This was the part he dreaded most, even more than jumping off the airplane without a parachute.  In his pre-flight discussion with Neige, they had determined that he would run the remaining distance to land, in the event that the plane crashed within close proximity.  If he stopped running, he would sink, and there would be no starting again.  It was an all-or-nothing sprint to land . . . or at least, to something that floated.

About twenty minutes later, Neige, Jeanne, and Saphiel waved as a motorboat approached them, bearing a crescent moon flag on the back.  It halted at the edge of the iceberg, and Kenta saluted them, standing at the wheel.  "The guy who owns it is . . . um . . . sleeping in the storage area," he said, scratching his head sheepishly.  "At the time, I was going a lot faster than he was, and I couldn't slow down in time, and I kinda jumped straight into his boat and knocked him onto the deck.  I swear it was an accident, but it worked out pretty well, didn't it?"

Saphiel smiled approvingly.  "Wonderful, Kenta!  Let's get to Dubai then, before he wakes back up."
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Recently discovered Pathfinder (modern D&D). Thanks for introducing me to the concepts all those years ago.
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« Reply #248 on: November 13, 2012, 09:20:37 am »

Pokemon Conquest is the one with Samurai Warriors characters, isn’t it? I guess you’ve some idea of Nobunaga Oda, then.


Through Saphiel’s Eyes

It was getting dark when we reached land. By some stroke of luck (more likely Jeanne’s mysterious ability, in my opinion), my Servant spotted a village by the sea, and we stopped there for a much needed break. I’m not entirely sure where we were, since Dubai’s probably still some ways to go, but I was content with a resting point. There was no name given for this place, and compared to Domrémy, it’s pretty ancient, since all the houses were made of planks of wood. Then again, considering that it is near water, a fishing settlement would make sense, and using wood for buildings made sense. Regardless of the state of the village, I wasn’t going to complain, since we managed to find a place to unwind for a bit. Or so we thought.

The people here (Spirits? I couldn’t really tell) seemed nice enough, treating us with the hospitality on the sole account that we are actual humans (not counting Jeanne, I suppose), and not demons. They fed us generously, with actual, hot, fresh seafood (it really raised our morale, which wasn’t exactly very high until then), and even gave us a room to stay. However, I guess I should’ve expected that with their cordiality, they wanted us to help them with a problem of their own. A few days ago, two humans appeared in this village, much like we had. A ‘Shalua’ and a ‘Regulus’, according to the wrinkly village elder. They sounded familiar to me, but it didn’t strike a chord until Neige identified them as Executors of the Holy Church. “Great!” I thought initially, “we can group up with the other survivors!” My optimism quickly dissipated when the elder told us that Shalua was murdered in the middle of the night, and Regulus was missing. Ever since then, there had been deaths in the village almost nightly. It didn’t take long for any of us to suspect the other Executor as the culprit, though Neige argued that it seemed odd for an upstanding holy knight like Regulus to do such a thing. It would be akin to Jeanne murdering innocent children. Maybe there were other reasons.

“It’s a bad idea to stay,” warned Neige, who seemed uncertain about the idea of giving the village a hand. “We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“We can’t possibly leave now, not after what they’ve done for us. It’s just… not right,” I replied. I guess I was being a little stubborn and reckless, since I agreed to help immediately after saying that. Neige probably rolled her eyes behind me, but I was determined to do something right for once. After what I did to Lei, after how I had been used by my stepfather and his accomplices to cause this to happen, I wanted to redeem myself in my own eyes, even if no one else blamed me. Not even Neige realized how much I hated myself for everything that happened, but it was my own fault for not completely opening up to her, or to Kenta. Alina might be the only one that would notice. She always knew when something was up with anyone, like a Sherlock Holmes of emotions. I wonder if she survived the Conception. I really hope she did. I wanted to talk to her, for her to comfort me like always.

I remembered Jeanne asking something curious during the meeting with the village elder. She asked if there was any silver available for her use. Needless to say, I was utterly confused, but Neige and I helped when she needed magic to smelt an arrow tip out of the tiny amount of silver provided. The only two creatures I know that needed to be truly vanquished with silver are vampires and werewolves. Well, not True Vampires, just the walkers of the night that drink blood and sleep in coffins. When I asked her what she was planning, she mentioned that the moon was always full during night. After that, I needn’t ask further. We were about to hunt a lycanthrope.

“Why an arrowhead? None of us have any bows here,” asked Kenta.

“Actually…” Jeanne had found a bow upon Shalua’s grave, amongst other weapons, after the talk with the village elder. She was originally going to create a blade without a handle, just a sharp piece of metal for Neige or for me to launch with wind spells. This time, I was almost positive that it was due to Jeanne’s power that we ended up with a well-strung bow to use and enough silver for an arrowhead. A village right when we needed to find land, native folk that provided food and shelter for us, and then this? There had to be some divine intervening at work here. In any case, we managed to prepare ourselves well enough to slay any cursed entity. Neige was wise to set animal traps around the village, too, though none of it was actually used in the end.

That night, we waited and hid on the rooftops, with Jeanne holding the bow and arrow. We were basically decoys for her coup de grace. All was calm, and I think I fell asleep a couple of times there from sheer boredom. Then, a howl filled the silence, and it sent shivers down my spine. This may sound a little punny for a Featherfolk, but I got goose bumps from the cry. I didn’t really know what I was expecting, to say the least. I’ve never encountered a werewolf before, only in books and movies. A particular large shadow stepped into the village from the bushes outside, and as the light of the moon illuminated the figure, I saw this huge beast with the head of a wolf and the body of a very furry man. As it stood about, sniffing around for a prey to feast upon, Jeanne took the opportunity to fire.

A single shot was all it took, right through the werewolf’s heart. It was rather anticlimactic, I suppose, but I’d take that any day over a desperate struggle for survival. When we went to inspect the corpse, it had reverted back into a man.

“I had a feeling it’d be him, though I tried to reason against it…” said Neige under her breath, upset over the death of a fellow survivor. I didn’t know what to say to her, since I did not know him very well at all. She told me later that she didn’t know much about Regulus either, but she was saddened by the fact that they had to take the life of an ally. She never wanted that to happen ever again, even if she wasn’t the one who landed the blow. The golden bow that we held on to would be a reminder of that incident.


I was going to separate this into a series of posts, but figured it’d work better as a self-contained post so you can move on without that feeling of lost. It’s supposed to be a short arc, anyway, and it’d probably work better by itself. Also, while I didn’t reveal what the bow is, it’s actually a Piece of Eden, so please don’t throw it away. It’s a one-hit kill against beings of the female gender, or against feral/bestial creatures if you use an arrow with it, though it can just be as deadly on males as any other bow if you use it properly. Yeah, it's the Bow of Artemis.


Serenity

Alina was introduced by the Queen of Fairies into a field of flowers, beautifully arranged in order of color, encircled by a wall of trees. Butterflies danced about in the air, birds chirped happily in the woods, and there was a family of cottontails enjoying the comforting warmth of the sun. The redhead could hardly believe the sight, given that her travel thus far had shown nothing but the gloomy loneliness of the new world. In contrast, this sanctum was teeming with life, and filled with color. Rider and Alphard were just as awestruck by the unexpected sight, staring around in disbelief. Their eyes soon fall upon the lone man sitting amongst the wildlife, caressing a hare upon his lap. Beside him was the Dein Nomos, its ominous glow juxtaposed against the peaceful environment.

Without looking up, he spoke, “What brings you here, assassins?”

His words lacked animosity, as though the attack on Monad had never happened. Surely he would have at least a hint of antagonism against those who tried to hinder his goals? Or it was because he had achieved what he sought that he did not care. When they did not answer, Duke looked towards them, eyeing with curiosity. “Are you here for my Pieces of Eden? I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you if that is your aim. Titania will be most displeased if I simply give them away.”

“He has POEs?” That thought flashed by Alina’s mind, and she cast a glance at the Fairy Queen, who was observing them with scrutiny. The redhead suddenly realized that she was thick in the midst of enemy territory, in spite of the serenity. If they made any indication that they wanted Duke’s Pieces of Eden, the situation could take a quick turn for the worse. Wiser to leave the sacraments alone and focus on the main objective, Alina decided. She shook her head in response to Duke, saying, “We have no interest in that. We are simply trying to return home, and we are lost. We’re unfamiliar with this new world.”

The albino swordsman nodded understandingly. “I cannot say that I am accustomed with the geography, myself. It took me several dead ends to end up here. However, I am content with where I am now. This is what I have dreamed of – a world without the destructive influence of humans, where nature reigns supreme. Humans should have served Earth, not the other way around. This is how it should have been.”

Alphard gave Alina a puzzled look, and then at Rider, who simply shrugged. None of them identified with his ideals. Not that it mattered to him, so lost in his own world. To say it was a delusion would be inaccurate, considering what the Conception had done to the planet. The eyepatched Executor cleared her throat, and then spoke, "May we rest here, at least till we have recovered enough and have an idea of our bearings?”

Duke paused, shifting his gaze to Titania. She bowed her head slightly and made a gesture to him, asking him to decide instead. Then he returned his attention to the threesome, nodding. “You may stay as long as you wish. Should you harm my haven, however, I shall retaliate with hostility.”

Alina smiled in relief, relaxing her shoulders (which she just realized that she had been subconsciously tensing them for a while). “Thank you.”
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« Reply #249 on: November 18, 2012, 06:39:46 pm »

Onna-Bugeisha

It was quickly becoming a habit of Kenji's to encounter historical figures, on top of mythological beings, in this post-apocalyptic world. In roughly twenty-four hours, he had gained Amaterasu as a Servant, was confronted and almost dueled with Taira no Masakado, was - and is still - present during an invasion by the Oda Army, and now stared down Tomoe Gozen. One of history's few women warriors, and a possible Heroic Spirit, one of Kenji's greatest challenges stood before him, ready to fight to the death.

As both Aoko and Tamamo broke off from him to address the contingent of Oda soldiers with the spearwoman, the ronin steadied into a battle stance, meeting Tomoe's steeled gaze with his own. "I won't back down. Miyamoto Kenji is prepared to meet your spear."

"Then come!" Tomoe stepped into a run as Kenji did the same, aiming to meet her head-on. The reach of her yari (spear) afforded her the first strike, thrusting single-handledly at the Dawnblade, who bent back and slid underneath the spearhead and shaft, stopping but two mere feet in front of her and simultaineously thrusting up for her gut. A timely block with the butt of her spear thwarted Kenji's stab, Tomoe proceeding to shove him back and move to strike his head with the haft. He managed to block the blow, if barely, and threw himself back to his feet. Unfortunately, this gave the spearwoman time to move back, regaining the advantage of reach.

Kenji swept his hand forward, a quad of ice lances flashing into existance in mid-motion and flying at Tomoe from close range. She spun her own yari in response, deflecting each in differing directions. The ronin took the opportunity, however, to deploy six magic swords to Tomoe's rear, bringing all six in at once. It quickly became clear how well-tuned her reflexes were as she whipped around, breaking off from her whirlwind motion to swing her spear at the ethereal blades in swift succession. She easily deflected five of them, Kenji detonating the sixth just as it struck her spear.

The explosion, while hardly damaging to the veteran samurai, did its job of distracting Tomoe. Kenji moved in and charged from her rear, ready to strike a beheading blow. Instinctively, she ducked, the blade passing overhead before she bent forward and mule kicked the Dawnblade in the stomach. Kenji staggered back, holding the stricken spot and trying to catch his breath. The Lancer, as he had deduced was her probable Servant class, was not only skillful with her yari, but exceptionally strong and agile, and was as in tune with her reflexes as Kenji was with his own, possibly moreso.

Tomoe stole the initiative as she lunged at her ronin opponent, taking her spear in both hands and thrusting it at his chest. Kenji swung the Yawarakai-Te up to deflect the spearhead, bouncing the yari up in an exaggerated arc uncharacteristic of how hard he'd hit the head. He quickly realized that she was turning the weapon with the momentum of his counterattack, attempting to use it to her advantage. As her spear completed its semi-revolution, Tomoe brought the haft of her weapon about to strike Kenji's head, missing him as he reactively ducked under it. Turning the weapon again, this time with her own momentum as fuel, she whirled and slashed her spear up with blinding speed, the tempered point cutting briefly into Kenji's chest twice as he rose, staggering him another two steps backward.

Recovering in time to witness Tomoe stepping into a fresh thrust for his throat, Kenji adopted a new tactic. He swept his free palm up, a potent Aeroga blast throwing the Lancer's spear up with more force than she could manage, ruining the possibility of a repeat performance; her arms thrown along with her spear, she was left vulnerable to attack. Wasting no time, the Dawnblade dropped the same arm back down, detonating a second wind spell against the ground and launching himself at Tomoe. With a resounding smack, he succeeded in tackling her into the dirt, going down with and landing atop her. Both her yari and his sword were thrown from their hands due to the force of their joined impact.

Tomoe was stunned collectively from Kenji's aerial tackle, dropping on the ground, and having the heavier warrior landing on her reasonably hard, leaving her vulnerable. Instead of taking the opportunity to subdue or finish his opponent, Kenji opted to take a moment to appraise and appreciate just who he was fighting. She was scantily-clad, perhaps moreso than Tamamo. Whereas the sun goddess dressed either for comfort or provocation, it was more likely that the historical spearwoman preferred her style of dress because it did not weigh her down, allowing for maximum mobility, much like his own relatively lightweight, modern clothing, save the jacket. Why she wore a bikini bottom in the middle of battle, however, or sported a fox-esque tail on the back of it, escaped him. Otherwise, Tomoe Gozen certainly was as resplendent as she was talented.

Unconsciously, Kenji wondered how he kept running into beautiful women who could kick his ass.

By the time he finished his silent appraisal, Tomoe appeared to be coming out from her stupor. The fight was on again, and Kenji made this abundantly clear as he punched at the Lancer's forehead. She managed to shift her head to the side and past his fist, throwing a straight at his throat to be caught in his hand and held in place. He swung down with his unoccupied hand, his defense duplicated by the spearwoman as she snatched his fist before it could contact with her jaw. Deadlocked, Kenji and Tomoe struggled against one another; while the physically stronger between the two was Tomoe, she was also recovering from her thorough stunning and was unable to fully coordinate, thus evening out their capabilities for a time. With no clear advantage in sight, and well aware that his superior opponent would regain her strength soon, Kenji reared his head back and slammed it full force into her skull, eliciting a feminine yelp from her and a pained grunt of his own.

Released by Tomoe and no longer under threat of a strike for his head, Kenji rolled off of her and toward their weapons, pushing himself up to a stand midway through. Not looking to his rear, he could hear Tomoe fighting to her feet; he had little time to waste. The Dawnblade made it to the Yawarakai-Te and yari in time and rolled as he grabbed for both of them, coming back to his feet with his conceptual weapon in one hand, and the Lancer's spear in the other. He turned to face Tomoe, who looked ready to take an unarmed stance.

Kenji inverted the yari and threw it, the spearhead sinking into the ground just past Tomoe, haft within reach of her hand. She seemed somewhat surprised, reaching for her weapon and drawing it out from the dirt, staring at him incredulously. "You returned my weapon, even though you would have an advantage keeping it for yourself or throwing it out of my reach. Why give it back?"

He offered the veteran samurai a smile, thumping the flat of his conceptual weapon against his shoulder. "Maybe I'm insane, but I want to fight you at your best. It's more satisfying if I beat you that way, and makes more sense if I lost."

Tomoe blinked in continued curiosity, then returned his smile with one of her own. "I see... You have honor, Miyamoto. I can respect that." She flourished her spear and settled into combat stance once more, Kenji doing the same as both their expressions returned to looking more focused and serious. The fight was going to continue--

"That's enough, Tomoe!"

She paused, half-glancing to her left, Kenji following her gaze to his right. There stood Ryougi Shiki, her knife dripping blood at her side. She stood calmly despite the battle raging around them, regarding the Lancer with an authorative, if calm stare. As Tomoe pulled her spear back and set the butt against the ground, standing upright, the Godslayer turned her gaze on the ronin. There was steel in her eyes, but at the same time, Kenji identified a look of recognition in them.

Though she didn't know him personally, Shiki certainly knew his face.
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« Reply #250 on: December 05, 2012, 08:16:33 am »

I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write. Or maybe it’s because finals have fried by brain. Also, I’m really excited for The Hobbit.


Clans and Adversaries

Shiki’s Side

Kenji was taken away from the town, or whatever that remained of it, along with the two magi, chained to each other and watched closely by Tomoe Gozen. Ryougi Shiki followed behind the warrior maiden, her face unreadable as always. Tamamo was none too pleased about her bound state, and it took her Master a few words to appease her. Aoko kept mum and marched on behind the two. The Dawnblade surrendered to the Godslayer when she stepped in to intervene with his duel with the Lancer, considering her unique power of the Mystic Eyes and the Fire Crystal in her possession, not to mention being outnumbered two-to-one. Shiki hardly said much, simply asking the threesome to walk with her under the guise of prisoners, and that she would listen to them later.

“Where are we going?” asked Tamamo grumpily, to no one in particular. “Meeting Mr. Oda and his jolly friends, is that it? Joy.”

“Silence, vixen! Lord Nobunaga provided us with food and shelter when my Master and I were lost. You would do well not to disrespect him,” warned Tomoe, poking the Caster-class Servant with the blunt end of her spear, making Tamamo hiss in anger at her.

Kenji sighed. “Tamamo, please don’t agitate her…”

“Fine, fine,” the Felinefolk harrumphed with indignance, looking away from her captor, “Only because you asked.”

As Masakado’s home shrank away from view, another settlement sprang into sight, one that extended its perimeter wider than the town itself. It further reinforced the impression of the massive might of the Oda clan, and as the group stepped into the camp itself, soldiers were present at every corner. It seemed like there was an endless amount of warriors at Nobunaga’s disposal, and what a fearful notion that would be to his enemies. Some were initially weary of Kenji’s company, though they relaxed and made way for them upon noticing the Godslayer and her battle maiden in the lead, her Oda emblem prominently displayed on her robes for all to see. Eventually, they came upon a tent larger than the others, positioned conspicuously at the center at the camp. Shiki slipped in first, whilst the rest exchanged glances of uncertainty. Then she emerged a moment later, gesturing the others to enter.

Inside the tent was decorated with silk veils of gold and purple, and the insignia of the Oda branded upon the cloths. A makeshift table was positioned in the middle, and a map of Masakado’s town laid upon it, with wooden blocks of red and blue placed strategically on it to indicate their own forces and that of the enemy. More than one pair of eyebrows was raised when the group saw Lorenzo, standing right beside a Japanese man clad in ebony armor. The man had a distinct mien of authority about him, his features sharp, noble and calculating. There was little doubt that he was the legendary daimyo who initiated the unification of Japan. He had a hint of a smirk on his lips, though it was hardly visible, hidden beneath his moustache. This was a man who wore power and responsibility like an article of clothing, Aoko thought, for it seemed to come to him like second nature. Once everyone was in, he made a sign towards the entrance. Lorenzo nodded in response, stepping out to prevent entry. Then, Nobunaga’s eyes shifted to those present, appearing bored and yet, contradictorily, curious.

“So,” uttered the warlord, “You have run into friends of the Old World.”

“Mm,” replied Shiki affirmatively, who seemed as indifferent as her savior. They make an odd pair, Kenji mused.

Nobunaga sat on a field chair, resting his elbow on his thigh and his cheek on his fist in a sign of disinterest. “Do you wish to end your servitude with me and leave with them? You have paid your dues with me.”

“No,” answered the Godslayer confidently. Aoko stared at her inquisitively. Shiki raised a finger, aimed at a round shield that was hung above the daimyo’s seat. Kenji looked up at it. It had an ostensibly golden sheen, and on its surface were depictions of the livelihood of Men, illustrations of farming and culture encircling that of men at war and men at peace, and at the navel, two horses riding in opposing directions, with a man in between. If anything, the shield was incredibly well-made, though it seemed more like a ceremonial piece than one used in combat. Tamamo seemed to be salivating at the sight of it, as though she was counting how much gold she could make by putting it up for sale. Nobunaga did not even spare a glance at it, his eyes fixated on Shiki, who continued, “I want that shield in exchange for all of our services.”

“Wait, what!?” exclaimed Aoko loudly, doing a double take at the Godslayer’s proposal. “We have to serve under him!?”

“I accept,” replied Nobunaga almost immediately after the Red Magus’ outburst, completely ignoring her and leaving her completely speechless. “You may leave.”

“W-wait! Don’t we get a say in this at all?” asked the redhead, who was dragged away from the daimyo’s tent by Kenji, who took the Fire Sentinel’s cue to exit together, seeing as she seemed not yet done with the trio.

Once outside, Lorenzo spoke something in Italian happily, giving the Dawnblade a friendly hug and a pat on the back, but backed off from Aoko when she gave him a deathly glare. “It’s good to see more of us alive and well!”

“Haha… I’m glad to see that you two are alright too,” responded Kenji cheerfully, returning Lorenzo’s greeting. “Are there any word about the others?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Lorenzo, scratching his bearded chin. “It’s pure coincidence that I managed to end up in the same army as Shiki.”

The Godslayer nodded. “I found myself with Tomoe in the wilderness. We were attacked by a pack of wolves when the Oda clan ran into us. Nobunaga saw our abilities and recruited us. We met Lorenzo soon after.”

“Hold on a minute, dammit!” growled Aoko angrily, “What’s so special about that shield that you sold the three of us to get it!?”

Shiki scowled at the magus irritably. “If it’s going to shut you up, that shield is a Piece of Eden. It’s the Shield of Mars.”



Lei’s Side

With the assassin gone, Lei had lost his only lead. The only information he had gleaned from the encounter with Divine Spear Li was Raidou Kuzunoha’s involvement. The great devil summoner who had betrayed them before the world turned into the mess it was now. He could merely hope that the others that lived through this would not fall by the hands of the stealthy martial artist. The only plan he had in mind was to continue the ride towards the Hideout, and hopefully group up with anyone still alive. He was hoping, in the very least, that Evangeline would be there. True Vampires should have lived through the Conception, considering they were guardians of Earth. Something like this that affected humanity should not affect them, Lei hypothesized.

Regardless of plans, the Earth Sentinel decided to stay in Guan Yu’s village for another day to catch up on the lost sleep from the previous night, as well as discuss his options with the village chef and the Executors. He needed the Green Dragon blade, for it was a Piece of Eden, but it was a weapon too heavy and impractical for him to carry around without the Chinese bladesman. Iskandar could perhaps wield it, but Guan Yu would never let the Macedonian king do so. The weighty spear belonged to him and him only. The only way was for Guan Yu to partake in the Sentinel’s journey. This would, however, mean that he had to leave his hometown unguarded, and it was not a notion that he found appealing.

Lei lied on his bed quietly, pondering on any alternatives to this conundrum. It seemed that he had no choice but to leave Guan Yu behind, and perhaps collect him later near the end of the quest for the Pieces of Eden. That would be the most practical solution, provided no harm befell on the bearded warrior beforehand, thought the Sentinel. However, would Raidou come to take the spear, or would he think that Guan Yu would follow Lei? It was a gamble that he had to take. His mind slowly drifted away from the problem, and slowly to slumber.

“Psst.”

His eyes flickered open, awoken by the sound. There was warmth beside him, and something feathery tickling his nose. It was with a puzzled expression that he looked down. Beneath his blanket was a pair of furry black ears of a Felinefolk, and as he lifted his bed covering, revealed Spica, smiling impishly at him. She was in naught but her ebon coat and briefs, her auric irises studying his surprised visage. “…Spica? What are you doing here?”

“I snuck in to pay a visit to you,” purred the feline lass, “and to thank you for saving Alkaid and me.”

Lei slowly realized what she was going for. He held her by her shoulders, trying to distance himself from her as much as he could on the bed. “As seductive as you are, I can’t do whatever you’re thinking of doing. I’m already in a relationship.”

Spica blinked, her flirtatiousness dissipating in an instant as she gave him a blank stare. “We can’t cuddle?”

“…Oh,” uttered the Sentinel dumbly. Did he misinterpret her intentions, or was she fooling him by changing her mind at the last moment? “…I guess I can do that.”

Wrapping the Felinefolk around his arms, he shifted himself back to make more space, which she happily occupied, purring as she crawled in. Despite the initial uneasiness, Lei soon found himself growing comfortable with her snuggling. She was warm and soft to the touch, but it only made him miss Alina even more. The redhead had a certain warmth about her that was absent from the Felinefolk, and it made him feel whole. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, it seemed. He lay awake beside Spica for a while, spacing out into the distance. Then he looked down at her, thinking to kill some time with her. “Where’re you from?”

“Hm?” she mumbled incoherently, halfway towards sleep.

“Your accent doesn’t sound British or American to me. I’m just curious.”

“I’m German…” Spica rubbed her eye lazily, “Marie Gottlieb.”

“Fitting name for one of the Holy Church,” replied Lei, “Have you been working for the Holy Church all your life?”

She nodded, and asked him to scratch her ears, which he did, while she continued, “I was employed in different sectors of the Holy Church. I worked my way up.”

“Not very interested in talking about your life?”

Spica shrugged. “It’s not a very entertaining subject for me.”

“What is?”

A smile returned to her lips. “You’re really smitten with Alina, aren’t you?”

“She’s done so much for me in the past. I’d say that I was a fool to have not noticed her earlier.”

The Felinefolk moved higher up to face him, asking, “Even though she’s vessel to one of the most notorious fallen angels?”

Lei scoffed at the question. “That’s immaterial to me. Besides, Alina has reformed Atma through sheer force of her personality. Atma fought for us, against the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, during the incident in Luminarium. I am willing to put my faith in her that she has turned for the better.”

Spica’s irises glimmered with curiosity. “Interesting. I would never trust a demon with anything. Lower your guard with one and it will climb all over your head, like inviting a vampire into your home. By the time you realize you are being controlled by the demon, it will be too late to do anything about it.”

“…You are right, of course,” replied the Sentinel quietly, unable to refute her, “but I want to believe in Atma, and in Alina.”

She sighed, as though as she was helpless in changing his mind. “Well, don’t blame me if anything bad happens to either one of you, then.”

If Lei was miffed by her words, it did not show on his face. He simply shrugged, and turned his back on her. “…Good night, Spica.”



Alina’s Side

The sky had turned a dark shade of blue, and the moon was perfectly round, hanging right above the trees. A rather odd sight, noted Alphard, who had observed that every single night had been a full moon night. Rider told them that it was nothing special, just another abnormality that became the norm after the Conception. The full moon had been a source of mysticism and sorcery since ancient times. Werewolves become feral, witches perform rituals, and the supernatural grow active. It made the Vortex World even more dangerous than it already was.

Nevertheless, Alina could rest easy for tonight, for she was under the protection of the Fairy Queen, who reigned over the forests and nature. Any intruder would be easily detected, for plants and animals alike could speak to her. Fruits, nectar, honey, milk and water were abundant in supply, though there was little that the group could take with them, considering most of them were perishable goods. They filled their canteens to the brim, and stored what fruits they could in honey to extend their shelf life. Duke offered them bread to keep, made from the labors of fairies, crispy and sweet. Alphard recognized it immediately, for the taste was unmistakable. The cakes were more commonly known back in the Old World as waybread, or Lembas, manufactured only by Elves long before the Middle Ages. Fairies, having an ancestral relationship to the Elves, naturally could produce them as well. Without preservation, they stayed fresh for months, and they were regarded by adventurers and hikers alike as an excellent source of sustenance for lengthy journeys. What better ration could they ask for? Alina could only hope that this luck would persevere.

That night, the three laid together on the flower bed under the starry sky, basking in the moonlight and the warm breeze like a mother’s embrace. Compared to the previous days of travel, this was a godsend. Someone up there must have been looking out for them, Alina mused aloud. Alphard agreed vigorously, grumbling about the awful trek that they had been through. At last, they have better odds at survival.

“Say, Alina,” started Alphard, the light of twinkling stars reflected in her sole eye. The redhead did not respond, but the Executor continued, “Do you think we should try to take the Pieces of Eden for ourselves?”

That made her turn to stare incredulously at the brunette. “They took us in and provided us food and shelter. We can’t possibly do something like that, Alphard.”

The Executor sighed, as though disappointed in herself for suggesting it in the first place. “I know, but… we need them… don’t we?”

“We do, Alina,” chimed Rider, lying on her side to face the Assassin. “No doubt Lei would be collecting them as well. Shouldn’t we help him?”

“Not like this,” replied Alina conclusively, watching the drifting grey clouds pass by. “This is just… wrong.”

“What do you propose, then?” asked the Gorgon, adjusting her glasses.

They could only hear the rustling of leaves for a moment, and the songs of insects and animals. Finally, Alina spoke, “We find Lei. Take only the Pieces of Eden that wouldn’t make us question our morals. Duke’s Pieces belong to him.”

“Duke does not seek the Tower. His POEs would inevitably end up in the hands of someone who wants to remake the world. It would give that person an advantage over us, and over Lei. It’d be dangerous,” argued Alphard logically, “for all of us.”

Alina shrugged. “If and when it comes to that, we will take it from that person.”

Rider giggled, amused by the redhead’s sense of righteousness. “Listen to yourself. Lei must’ve rubbed off on you during those years.”

“In more ways than one,” laughed Alina. Alphard chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief at the redhead’s innuendo. “Just enjoy the night as much as you can. We probably won’t be able to get another one like this for a while.”
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« Reply #251 on: December 24, 2012, 10:43:32 am »

The Hours Before the Assassination

The road to Dubai became less rocky and more man-made with hourly forward progress.  Ominous clouds gathered overhead, constantly threatening rainfall.  Saphiel had suggested that the group travel under cloud cover to better avoid any potential space satellites hovering above Dubai.  At the time, it seemed merely fanciful, since they did not have the luxury of a waiting period.  However, by luck or divine providence, the sky soon locked itself tight above them.  Still, they took no chances.  They went nowhere, except where there was a barrier to hide from traffic or prying eyes.  Often the group fluctuated in number, sometimes with an illusion dummy member, sometimes with Jeanne disappeared, sometimes with Kenta dashing ahead or waiting behind before catching up.  They did not halt at the first bus stop they passed, nor the second.  It wasn't until the third sighted stop that Neige finally decided they were blended enough to not be taken as newcomers.  There was no reason for them to be.  The women had their burqas back on, and Kenta had resumed wearing his Islamic robe, turban and fake beard.  Nobody would mistake them for Westerners.

When the bus came, they boarded and moved as far to the back as possible, where there was the least human traffic.  There was no sense in being up front, where Marked people regularly got on and off.  The journey was relatively peaceful apart from jostling on the road, but as Dubai's skyline came within sight, Jeanne noticed a troubled expression on Kenta's face.  She caught his eye, then whispered as quietly as necessary: "You okay?"

"Yeah.  Well, no.  But this will have to do."

***

It was during the night before that, during one of her security rounds, Jeanne had detected Kenta's guest house room to be empty.  She found him lying on the roof, staring up at the sky with both arms tucked behind his head.  Kenta glanced up and acknowledged her presence before returning to his aimless gaze.  "It's like a dream following a nightmare, isn't it?" he said dully.  "This place is a sanctuary.  A square meal, peace from danger, and a warm sea breeze at night.  If I'm asleep, I don't want to wake up."

Jeanne said nothing.  Kenta gave a forced, self-loathing sigh.  "I know, I know- we're on a mission, and this was a necessary reprieve.  But when I think that someone else could take care of what we're doing, my discipline just vanishes."

"Kenta . . ."  Jeanne stood straighter.  "This was all my idea.  I understand that you were more or less dragged into the situation.  If you want to stay here, none of us have the right to deny you."

"Yeah, I do want to stay here.  But . . ."  Kenta sat himself up, and slapped himself soundly in the face.  "I think now that I've confessed the temptation to someone, I'm over it.  This was never about me."

"No regrets?"

"No regrets."

The following morning, before the long trek to a bus stop, Neige, Saphiel, Kenta, and Jeanne gathered around a table to discuss strategy.  "Dubai is the world's richest known city," Neige said, drawing buildings on paper with an ancient quill pen provided by the locals.  "Count on tall buildings, cameras everywhere, and people surrounding you like snow in a blizzard.  The Beast will see everything.  He's the the man behind you, the woman next to you, and the sniper on the roof a couple hundred meters away.  And because he knows who he is, it really narrows down the people he's not.  All suspicion will be on non-Marked people."

"The ability to turn invisible sure would be nice at times like this," said Kenta.

"I've got it."  Saphiel raised a finger.  "How do you hide an elephant in an empty room?"  When everyone looked at her without an answer, she followed up.  "Easy- turn the lights off.  Everything we do will have to be at night, when there's less visibility."

"And what about night-vision cameras?  What about the well-lit areas?"

"There are always blind spots.  Always."

"What if there aren't?" challenged Neige.  "We can't count on anything happening by wishing it there."

"Then we'll make some."  Kenta swallowed nervously.  "We only need to keep out of trouble until Antichrist arrives.  Then, when and ONLY when it's time to kill him, we'll violate some kind of security measure and distract the attention of the Beast's honor guards, or whoever it is."

"Kenta, he's thousands of people in this city alone."  Neige crossed her arms.  "I'm sorry to be the one to keep throwing wrenches in everyone's gears, but unless I do-"

"No, it can work.  It's worked in the past for others."  Kenta clasped his hands tightly.  "The distractions just have to be big enough, and numerous enough.  It's a matter of endurance.  If Saphiel were to fake an initial assassination, and destroy the first line of defense, the Beast would be forced to send backup due to limited space.  Then Neige could set up another diversion, or topple a whole building or something-"

Neige gaped at Kenta.  "You think I can just DO that?"

"I don't know!  I'm just throwing out ideas."  Kenta pressed on.  "Then somebody with a sword would eventually put Louis's life to an end.  I don't know if it would be me, Neige, Jeanne, or someone else.  I don't even know what purpose it could serve, since he's just going to rise again anyway.  Maybe something's supposed to be stolen off his corpse, or it's just a revenge kill, it beats me.  All I know is, if this man really is the Biblical Antichrist, he will die by somebody's hand in a matter of hours.  The deal's sealed on that."

The table was quiet.  "It helps to be reminded that the mission is pre-ordained to be a success," Saphiel said.  Kenta shook his head.  "I'll consider it a success only when we've all made it back out alive.  Any ideas on an escape plan?  When the bullets start flying, I'm not sure I'll be able to dodge them all."

The table was quiet.

"We'll have to look at the city," said Neige, getting up.  "That part can't be concluded until we've seen what it looks like."

Kenta ran a hand down his face, feeling a slight throbbing in his head.  "A computer would've been handy about now."

"So would communication devices.  We may end up stealing some before this is over."

***

Shortly before the bus stopped, it passed a largely-populated area where several construction vehicles and a crane were in motion, moving heavy equipment around.  The skeletal structure of a stage was beginning to form, the kind that was sized for famous singers or bands back in America.  A man shouted something in Arabic at the sight of it, and a cheer went up in the bus.  Kenta did not have to guess what he said.  This would be the location of Louis's grand speech to his followers.  He would walk onto this stage, but he wouldn't be getting back down.


---

(I actually posted before, but lost everything, raged, and didn't write again until much later.  Why is this so hard?)
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« Reply #252 on: January 16, 2013, 07:37:09 am »

Sorry about taking so long. School’s started again. I’m still not very used to university life after the first semester. Tyren’s finally got his computer fixed, too, and I had to help him with a few things. By the way, I wished you happy birthday in your profile, Kenta. Hope you’re doing well.


Past

The party of three bade farewell to the Fairy Queen and Duke in the morning the next day, well-equipped for the journey back to the Hideout. The nature-loving swordsman was disinterested in them, as though the possibility of his possession of the Pieces of Eden being threatened was no more realistic than a war without bloodshed. Alina was hardly perturbed by the idea of ignoring the quest to accumulate the POEs, though her one-eyed friend was a little more resistant to it, but ultimately gave up when no one else, specifically Rider, supported her. It was their whole purpose of being in the Vortex World, after all, but the redhead did not desire a new world. Perhaps that was why she was not assigned a Heroic Spirit, thought Rider.

“Then again, I’m a Heroic Spirit, despite given physical form… Am I brought to her for a reason?” mused the Gorgon, staring at Alina from behind as they trekked their way out of the forest. “We’re not bound to a Master-Servant relationship, and yet…”

“What’s the matter?” spoke Alina, not looking back at her fellow Assassin.

“Don’t worry about it,” replied Rider placidly, adjusting the knapsack full of food they were blessed with from Titania.

Alphard gave the bag a thoughtful glance. “It’s not too heavy, is it?”

The purple-haired Medusa smiled at the silly comment. “I’m a Heroic Spirit. I can take at least this much.”

“Speaking of which… what’s the previous Conception like?”

“I’ve said before that I entered the picture rather late, but…” said Rider, staring up at the azure sky. “I know nothing of the world before the last Conception, but the Vortex World then was not much different from what it is now, devoid of human life and utterly desolate. It was very clear cut who the enemy was at the time. All of us were united under the banner of the World King, and we have a common goal against this foe. Our hero was an idealistic young man. He was unbelievably strong, incredibly naïve, ridiculously foolish and stubborn, yet ever so thoughtful and unwavering in his ideals. All of us admired that in him, and had faith that he would make a better world for us. On the other side was a nihilistic man, weary of the world and its ways, who sought for nothing but ruin. It was easy for me to decide who to side with. By the time I joined, they already had majority of the Pieces of Eden, and were on their way to the Tower of Kagutsuchi in Kyoto, Japan. I’m not sure if it’s still there, though…”

“Did something happen to it?” asked Alphard curiously, walking alongside bespectacled woman.

“It was destroyed when the hero accomplished his goal, as far as I know. The rest of us were in various parts of the Tower, or outside of it, fighting various creatures and enemies to carve a path for the World King to make his way to the top. I held the lines outside against countless Ghouls by myself. All I remembered was a tremendous explosion from the peak of the Tower, followed by an all-consuming, warm light. I could hear his voice somewhere in my head, welcoming me to a peaceful, united world,” retold the Gorgon, her eyes staring distantly into her past. She heaved a sigh at the end. “You can see how well that turned out. It took only a few centuries before evil crept up and took all of us by surprise. As romantic as the World King’s dreams were, it did not hold up to reality, and the foul nature of mankind.”

“What happened to the others in the World King’s party?” inquired Alina, slowing down her pace to match her companions.

“Most of them were mortals. They did not live long, compared to someone like me. There were a few whose lineages managed to survive till today, however. The Caelums, the Ryougis, and the Sorels, for instance. It’s only natural that Sentinels like them have some connection to important figures during the Conception. Most of the ancient clans and Houses are very likely descended from members of the World King’s party.”

“I wonder if Lei had any link to anyone from the previous Conception…” wondered the redhead aloud. “Even he doesn’t know a thing about his parentage.”

“Does it really matter? His ancestry doesn’t define who he is,” replied Alphard nonchalantly. Alina simply shrugged.

“In any case…” spoke Rider, trying to change the subject. “We should find some form of transportation. Travelling on foot would take forever to reach the Hideout. I’d summon Bellerophon, but it’d take too much from me, and neither of you can ride a divine beast.”

“We should backtrack to the Coliseum. By some luck, we can probably find a car or something that someone had negligently left the keys in with,” suggested the Executor.

The tall Gorgon hesitated. “…That’s going to be some really miraculous luck, I think.”


Kinda short, but I might edit this to write something for Lei if or when the ideas properly form in my head.
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« Reply #253 on: February 21, 2013, 02:08:04 am »

Respect

Following the revelation of Nobunaga's - now theirs - shield being a Piece of Eden, Aoko had underwent a partial meltdown. The stress of the last couple days, paired with effectively being sold for such an item, gave her a bout of confusion. Probably a migraine as well, Kenji mused as he walked around the camp. The group had scattered shortly after, and the Dawnblade had received a tent with his two companions. He spent the remaining daylight hours familiarizing himself with the encampment and chatting with the somewhat friendly Lorenzo. With the coming of night, he found himself approaching the tent of Ryougi Shiki and her Lancer Servant, Tomoe Gozen.

As Kenji reached for the flap, someone else pushed it aside. The Godslayer paused for a moment in the entrance, tipping her head with a look of curiosity; she hadn't expected anyone to come to this tent. She blinked during the quiet period that followed, apparently analyzing his intent. Kenji ended up breaking the silence. "Good evening, Miss Ryougi."

"Evening. Were you looking for me?" Her curiosity remained.

"No," Kenji responded. "Not this time, anyway. I wanted to see your Servant, if she's available."

Shiki glanced behind her where he couldn't see, presumably to verify the Lancer's state. Turning her head back to view Kenji, she shrugged. "Go ahead." As she made to move forward, the Dawnblade wisely stepped aside to let her leave. After a few steps, she paused and turned again to look at him. "'Not this time,' huh?" she inquired.

"Sorry if that sounds a little odd," Kenji apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward smile. "I just thought while we're working together, it'd be a good opportunity to get to know you. All I really hear are the rumors. If that puts you off or anything..."

"Not really," she stated simply, shrugging again. "Just don't waste my time."

"Fair enough," Kenji agreed. Their brief chat over, the Sentinel continued on her way off, allowing Kenji to enter the tent.

Within, Tomoe Gozen had since changed into a traditional, floral kimono, far less revealing than her battle attire, but similarly attractive on her form. She lounged on a futon toward the side of the tent, which was somewhat larger than others, though far from the luxury that was Nobunaga's command center. The Shield of Mars rested on the other end of the tent, near what he could assume was Shiki's futon. At the time of Kenji's entrance, she was meditating on her knees, but she looked up and opened her eyes to meet his. She offered a mild smile, waving for him to come closer. Accepting the invitation, he stepped closer and sat in front of her on the futon, returning her smile.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you with my visit, Lady Gozen," he said, bowing his head briefly in deference.

"It is fine. Your name is Miyamoto Kenji, wasn't it?" Tomoe asked, to which he nodded. She continued, "You put up a good fight earlier. A curious style as well; I recognize some of your kenjutsu, and you are skilled with sorcery. I cannot say I appreciated your empty hand, however, particularly when you brought your head to mine," she giggled.

Kenji chuckled, shrugging. "It did the job, didn't it?"

"It did," she concluded.

"Anyway, I just came to see you for a bit. We're likely gonna be working together for a while, so I wanted to get to know you on a base level," he explained. "Makes sense, right?"

Tomoe nodded. "Of course." She took a moment to adjust her position, relaxing a little. "Well, my Master tells me that I am somewhat famous in your time, so you must know what I did in my lifetime. What would you like to know?"

Kenji tipped his head back, pondering. "Well..."

--------------------------

Not According to Plan

"So, that went well," Kenji ended.

The rest of the conversation between him and Tomoe was fairly short, but informative and relatively enjoyable. Afterward, he'd bid her a good night and returned to his tent to meditate, finding Tamamo waiting for him. She'd complained about their treatment a little more, now that the Shield of Mars wasn't available to view and drool over, before asking about his day. Naturally, this lead to what he did with Tomoe.

"Kinda interesting, huh? Female samurai, I mean. I knew they existed, but I'd never really seen or read about many. Now I get to run into Tomoe Gozen... Next thing I know, I'll turn a corner and meet Ii Naotora, or Inahime," Kenji joked, laughing as he relaxed in his futon.

"Huh... Sounds like you're smitten with her," Tamamo grumbled. "What happened to Maxima?"

"Assuming anything actually can come from that, and if we meet again anytime soon, she's still in the picture. Besides, I'm not smitten with Lady Gozen," explained Kenji. "I respect her as a warrior, and for her history. It helps that she's pretty sociable, too."

The Felinefolk rolled over in her futon, facing away from the Dawnblade. "Really now?"

"Well, yeah," he verified, a little curious at how she'd asked. It sounded like she wasn't convinced.

"Guess you won't need me unless there's something only I can do, huh?" Tamamo asked, almost in a rhetorical way. Kenji shifted over to look at the back of her head with growing concern. Her ears were flat against her head. "When you go after Tomoe, who's next? Aoko, Shiki, or both?"

"...Hang on," requested a dumbfounded Kenji. "You almost sound like you're jealous."

"What's it to you?" she questioned. "You've got plenty of women to choose from. One's out somewhere in this crapsack world waiting for you, then there's three hanging around the camp. Why wouldn't the lowly Servant be after them?"

The ronin pondered for a moment, trying to rationalize Tamamo's disturbing behavior in his head. The only things he could think of were that either she was grumpy and annoyed by how the day had gone, or that she wasn't necessarily messing around with her claim on his virginity the previous night. Kenji sat up, crawling off from his futon and over to hers, where she remained still, facing away. He laid down onto his side behind her and reached over, scratching behind one of her ears, to which she twitched, emitting a startled squeak.

Kenji chuckled, "Not exactly our best day, I know. Almost got arrested, got into a city-wide fight, got chained up and brought to the Demon King's camp, and got traded for a shield." He waited to see if Tamamo would respond, but she said nothing. He continued, both with speaking and petting her head. "Hell, I almost lost my head to an arrow. That's pretty weird, coming from the modern era with guns. Of course, you stopped that from happening. Thank you for that, Tamamo."

"N-Nya~" she managed through the attention being given to her. A god and a Servant she might be, but the fox was still a Felinefolk at the end of the day. She quite enjoyed her Master's hand on her head, relaxing more.

"I'm not going for Lady Gozen, and chances are, I won't be going for Aoko, unless she shows interest first. Shiki, well... Word around the hideout before this all happened was that she'd gotten with Lei. Even if I was interested, both of them could kill me without breaking a sweat," he cracked, grinning to himself. "So for the moment, I'll be going with Maxima... If that could even work out."

"Nya~..." she purred. Clearly, Kenji's reassuring, factual words and his display of affection was doing wonders for the sun goddess's mood.

"If you're really interested in me, we can talk about it tomorrow or something. Don't worry about it for now, though; it's been a long day, and you need to relax," Kenji said. Tamamo could only nod.

There was a moment of silence. Master and Servant were bonding through the simple acts of petting and scratching. The Dawnblade wondered if he should hug Tamamo instead, get a little closer... If Aoko found them like that, though, it'd sure raise more questions to torment her already-stressed mind.

Poor Aoko.
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