Fandom Jujutsu Kaisen: For Which Death Has Died

[Wxnter]

NYX STARFORGE​

Location: ???| Interactions: Arenea​

Did she strike a nerve? Nyx raised an eyebrow, allowing her eyes to drift toward Arenea’s face for a moment before returning her attention back to the dark tunnels in front of her, a slight disturbance in the air alerting her of a presence from within. She had thought nothing of it when she grabbed Arenea and escorted her onto higher ground, she had merely acted on impulse. Training alongside Ira had taught her the spirit of teamwork, the beauty of collaborative effort, and in that swift moment in the face of danger, she’d failed to consider her partner’s emotions and perspectives. Even so, the heiress did not apologize nor shed light on her previous intentions. Instead, her lips rose to a playful smile, “An act of kindness?” She shook her head. “I am not that selfless. I only wanted to show off,” she finished her sentence with a wry grin, but neither her smile nor her voice conveyed malice. Shortly, her smile faded, her eyes narrowing as she felt the presence drawing ever closer.

“Prove yourself then, Aranea.” Nyx challenged. “I will see if you are someone worth acknowledging, or perhaps I shall continue to presume little of you.” Her tone of voice was cordial, which was a contrast to the words that left her mouth.

The heiress wanted to see more of what was underneath the maid’s detached demeanor, and provoking her was perhaps not the nicest way to go about it, but Nyx would not apologize for her words and actions, nor would she take them back if she could. They were two distinct persons molded to be poles apart, yet similarly they both had their pride. Would Arenea use this offense to fuel her in the battle to come, or would it distract her and cause her to make errors along the way? Nyx was curious to know.

A figure began to emerge from the caves, prompting Nyx to shift her stance, her grip tightening around the hilt of her blades. The sight before her was not what she expected. A middle-aged woman of average height, dark hair, brown eyes, and armed with bows of varying types. Nyx expected something much larger and monstrous in appearance, but she could tell the strange woman was a lot stronger than she looked — especially if she was the one responsible for earlier's attack.

Suddenly, the woman leapt off from the cliff, firing a volley of arrows that didn't quite reach the two. A miss? A feint? No. The arrows were imbued with cursed energy, Nyx knew what to expect as she swiftly sheathed her left sword and grabbed the cursed fan from her waist. The arrows split into groups, one taking a sharp turn toward Arenea's direction, and the other heading toward Nyx. She sprung up from the ground to avoid the arrows, but the arrows shot upwards in her direction, following her like persistent flies that were sharper in shape and deadlier. Her breath hitched as she swung her sword in an arc, sending blades of wind that cut through the advancing arrows. Nyx landed back on her feet, atop her suspended fan, swiftly gliding down the cliff just as the woman had a few moments prior. Time was of the essence. Eyeing the woman's falling frame, Nyx pointed a finger at her.

Whizzing sounds rung in the air as she shot two air bullets in the woman's direction.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Dour Mangroves
simj26 Wxnter ​

"Hah!" The woman spat out a laugh as Nyx responded to her assault. "Marksmans' duel is it? This is why I love youngins!" Nyx's bullets dropped through the air like a pair of invisible, rocket-propelled stones. She had to think fast. The cursed energy that trailed out behind them gave her a rough enough idea of how far away they were, but while the bow woman was confident in her aim, she didn't fancy taking her chances on nailing a pair of nigh-invisible projectiles while in freefall.

"So!" A moment before Nyx's bullets slammed into her, the woman spun her bow in her hand and then slammed it into the oncoming projectiles with all her might. In an instant, it exploded into splinters, taking the two projectiles with it. In the midst of the hubbub, the woman made contact with the water below, dropping into it with a noisy splash and vanishing into the ruined mangroves' muddied waters.

Beneath the water's surface, she weaved her way through the twisted remains of the mangroves, putting as much distance between herself and the pair of students as she could before coming up for air. When she emerged from that muck-brine cocktail of a swamp, she's practically swapped positions with the girls, standing not far from where the fog had dumped them, and breathing in a long, satisfying gulp of air.

Now that she was out of the cave's darkened depths, it was easy enough to tell that the woman assaulting Nyx and Aranea was around middle-aged. Her features were covered with the weather-beaten lines of an outdoorsman, which were then further coated in a thick, brown coating of mud. A pair of emerald green eyes peered out from behind the layer of muck, fixing on what she seemed to consider her prey, even from this distance. She cocked a smile as she stared up at the two, and then unslung another bow from her collection.

"This is number three, ladies! Let's keep up the pace!" She yelled out over the swamp, her voice carrying itself through the vast expanse of air and up to the cliff where Nyx stood. In a single motion, she knocked another bushel of arrows in her bowstring and let them loose high in the air. The cluster, this time, arced through the air naturally, seeking to rain down on the pair from above.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Fishing Hamlet
Lucem The One Eyed Bandit ​

The fish-men let out a gaggle of screams as their flesh was caught alight, the firey arrows igniting their slick, oily skin like a match thrown into an oil drum. Their shrieks formed a chorus, offensive to the ears in its disharmonious exclamation of pain, and worse than that was the aroma. It was as if the pair of Sorcerers had suddenly found themselves within a fisher's market, long-abandoned at the height of a busy morning rush. Eight of the fish-men dropped to the ground, trashing and dead, and the surviving fish-mens' eyes bulged in both fear and pain as their bodies were ignited and cooked and fried, but still, they advanced.

They pushed past the bodies of their dead comrades, spurned on by the relentless, guttural barking of their sharkish taskmaster. Where the smaller fish-men hopped and scrambled over the bodies, the larger one merely pressed them down into the sand with his footfalls, the head of one exploding with a disgusting, wet pop as it was trampled underfoot. Its own flesh, too, burned after Ren's attack, but it seemed mostly unphased.

The fish-men crashed into the two sorcerers in a trashing mass of burning limbs and rotted weaponry. One of them heaved an axe above its head, and swung it down onto the pair, only to find it dropping to the sand rather than either of the sorcerers' skulls. The weapon dug into the sand with a shallow thud, and was then quickly joined by the axeman's arm, leaking out a pool of vicious, briny blood.

Adina's blade sat poised in the air, coated in a thin layer of the axeman's blood, and then weaved back towards him to do to his neck what it did to his arm. The axeman soon fell to the ground dead. Adina's blade and body continued to dance amongst the throng of fish-men, deflecting attacks where it had to, and drawing blood where it could.

"Dunno if we're the best match, in that case!" Adina spoke while she fought the crowd of fish-men, occasionally pausing when she had to put some extra effort into cleaving through a limb or avoiding a particularly dangerous blow. "I can strengthen other people's Cursed Techniques, but I don't have much flashy in the way of my own!"

That was unless you considered an idiot goat flashy, at least.

A sum of three more fish-men had been felled by Adina's blade before their leader decided to intervene. It moved towards her with a surprising speed once it had set its mind to it. Where before it had been almost casually been lumbering forward, it suddenly sprung through the air, hauling its bulky mass of a body about with little in the way of effort. It crashed down into the beach when it reached Adina and Ren, smashing into the ground with one of its claws and scything a long path through where both of the two sorcerers stood with the other.

Adina avoided the first blow, and sought to counter the second. When the sharkish hulk's claws were about to bite down into her, she instead drove her blade into its palm, piercing its flesh cleanly and emerging from the other side. The shark-man's attack carried on heedless of Adina's attack, however, and she only just barely managed to step out of the way of its oncoming claws, unfortunately dodging her way right into a clothesline deliver by the shark-man's bulky right arm.

The moment she hit the ground, one of the surviving fish-men tried to set itself upon her, chopping down towards her stomach with a rusted excused of a cleaver. Even with her brain knocked halfway out of her skull, though, Adina was still less of a mess than the freshly charred tuna-man and rolled out of the way of the clumsy blow. In one motion, she scooped up the closed weapon to where she lay, a trident, and then hopped to her feet.

The cleaver-wielding fish-man snapped at her and then charged forwards. It swung its blade in front of itself like a lunatic, which made it not very difficult at all for Adina to drive the trident straight into its skull, each of the outer prongs finding a new home within the fish-man's eye sockets.

The leader, meanwhile, cared little for her at the moment, its attention still fixed on the one who'd thought it'd be funny to set it on fire. It plucked Adina's sword from its palm, and then threw it in Ren's direction like an undersized javelin. Blood, murky and dark, oozed from the stab wound, but the hand seemed to function just fine in spite of it. As if to drive that point home, it then balled that hand into a fist, and put all of the weight of its body into one big, meaty punch, aimed directly at Ren's head.

 

[simj26]

Aranea rolled her eyes at Starforge's retort. Or she would have, were she not made of stronger will. Such was the attitude of those born in stations above the common man. She had no time to see Starforge further eschew the virtues of nobles, as the true face of their attacker decided to grace their presence. Aranea watched the emergence of their foe and her assault on them with as much interest as she would grass grow. She noted, as Starforge departed, that the arrows were tracking either her or Starforge. Cursed energy. Homing arrows. How cliche. She readied a second knife. Thin wires curled around its ring and around her hand. The only way to stop cursed energy is with cursed energy. This much is certain. She realigned her grip on her two knives, and steadied herself. While Starforge hurried, Aranea remained patient. Timing, not time, was of the essence.

As the arrows began to level, shooting straight at her, no longer wavering from their target, she moved. She flicked her knife forwards, and closed her grip on the wire, sending forth a burst of cursed energy. The knife whistled between the arrows, missing them entirely, right on target. The wire exploded between the arrows, disrupting several of them, sending them digging into the water and the earth beneath them, or losing their power entirely and falling away, if not splintering entirely from the impact of the explosion. Some survived. That was what Victoire was for. A blade of cursed energy erupted forth from the tip of the knife, and with a graceful pirouette and slice, she cut two arrows down from their path. The remainder made to turn, arcing upwards towards the sky, then skyrocketed back downwards. She drew back her free hand, and whipped it upwards. Her second knife lashed out from the depths of the murky water, circled, then darted upwards with each motion of her hand. She tightened her hold on the wire once more, and another explosion along it dispatched of the remaining arrows.

Her knife landed, tip first, onto the ground next to her, as she turned her attention towards Starforge and their assailant. They seemed to be having fun. Their attacker had taken the lower ground now, having exchanged their positions, but unlike them, she seemed to be more equipped for these environs. "A little unfair, is it not? To be this prepared for us, and us, unsure of where our mission would take us?" Aranea called out from her location, just before the woman loosed another rain of arrows upon them. Aranea looked up at the arrows calmly.

She was just one archer. Though she could loose numerous projectiles at them, she would only have an easier time of it if the two of them were on the same side of the map. "Hmm." She could only hope the Starforge would piece this together before she was made a pincushion. She motioned with her hand, and, with a sound like a retracting zipline, her knife extracted itself from the ground, and returned itself to her hand. Nothing to it then. Time to get wet and dirty. She leapt off her vantage point and into the waters. With a flick of her hand, she sent her knife forwards again, striking a tree. She tugged on her wire, and retracted it, this time sending herself flying towards her knife, and out of the arrrows' rain.

At the same time, from behind the hunter, a dark hound came bounding back, and dived into the water. It was no Olympic swimmer, but one had to give it credit- it was half-paddling and half-trotting as hard as it could towards the girls' opponent. Its master had given the command to return and attack, and it would do just that.

 

[Lucem]

Ren Kosaka
Ren didn't have much time to observe the aftermath of his attack. As soon as the last arrow fell, the surviving fish-men began their charge. As they got closer, their shrieks grew louder and their stench became even fouler. Compared to their assault on the senses, their physical attacks weren't much to worry about, as Ostraca was quick to take down the ones within reach of her blade. Unfortunately, the larger one wasn't as easy to deal with, not too concerned with its burning flesh or dismembered underlings. It stepped over everything in its path until it was close enough to swing at him and his fellow student with its massive arms.

Pulling Red Shade out of the ground, Ren quickly jumped away from the incoming claw. While he managed to avoid the strike, the impact created a miniature sandstorm that prevented him from seeing what happened to Ostraca. It wasn't until the dust settled that he could get a good look at her, but what he saw wasn't great. She had been knocked to the ground and the fish mob was quick to take advantage of that, pouncing on her without hesitation. Unable to fire another arrow in time, he focused on supporting her with the Jujuzu beads until she recovered. All they could do was fly in a defensive pattern, but one managed to get a good hit on one of the fish, crashing into its head with enough force to almost separate it from the rest of the body.

Ren could only hope that the blow she took to the head was nothing serious. While he could heal her, there wasn't much he could do while trying to avoid the behemoth. He didn't have any other techniques to support her with, and her own cursed technique would be wasted on him. They were a pretty terrible match, all things considered. With the way things had gone so far, he wouldn't be surprised if the school arranged the pairs like this on purpose.

Ren's luck didn't seem to be getting any better, as the leader of the bunch seemed to have its eyes on him. Tightening his grip on the umbrella, he maintained his position as Ostraca's blade was thrown at him, trying to remain as firm as possible. "Uwa!" On command, the snake opened its mouth and stretched out its body, taking the sword into the bottomless stomach that housed several cursed tools. As it enjoyed the meal, Ren opened his umbrella and placed it in the path of the incoming fist. While Red Shade looked like an ordinary tool, he intended to use it for more than just protecting him from the blood that fell from the monster's wound.

Pouring cursed energy into the weapon, Ren did his best to block the blow. While using Red Shade as a shield, he reinforced his body, trying to become a wall that the attack couldn't break. Even if his bones threatened to shatter, he'd deal with the pain and heal them. He'd handle the crushing weight, which would give his shikigami the opportunity to return the sword it swallowed to its owner.

Stretching its body as much as possible while staying in its current position, Uwa regurgitated the cursed tool and sent it flying toward Ostraca. As it landed in the sand, Ren called out to the sorcerer, his words occasionally interrupted by grunts. "I...think...that's yours!"

While Ren held his position, the two remaining beads by his side launched toward the creature's face, aiming for its eyes. As they did so in an attempt to blind it, Ren prepared to launch his counterattack, focusing the cursed energy in Red Shade in its sharp tip. Hopefully, it would be enough to tear through the burnt flesh and put an end to this.

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[Wxnter]

NYX STARFORGE​

Location: ???| Interactions: Arenea​

The heiress had wanted to assess their assailant's defensive capabilities by firing those bullets whilst the woman was at the mercy of gravity, and she had expected a much grandiose move from her, similar to the first attack she had launched against them. What the woman did, however, was unexpectedly clever — and efficient. The corners of Nyx's mouth curved upwards into an amused smile. Still squatting atop her suspended fan, the heiress watched as their opponent dived into the murky waters below, keeping a sharp eye on her as she resurfaced.

In terms of their abilities alone, Nyx and Arenea weren't at a disadvantage. They were fast and agile, and they had numerous ways to evade and counter her attacks. There was nothing too extraordinary about their opponent's powers, but her craftiness and experience made her quite impressive and taxing to deal with — not to mention she had a better grasp of their terrain. No matter.

As the woman fired another volley of arrows to rain down upon the two, Nyx leapt from her fan and landed where Arenea had stood some split seconds ago. With the fan now in her clasp, she whipped it against the raining arrows, sending powerful cutting winds infused with her cursed energy, rendering the arrows useless. With a sigh, the heiress watched as the wooden sticks harmlessly fell into the waters below. Was it their opponent's intention to tire them out? She knew such attacks would be futile against her. Regardless, she would eventually run out of arrows.

'I need to close the distance between us and fight up close...' She mused, but Arenea was already on to it. Nyx decided to stay at a distance so as to make it more difficult for their adversary to target them both at the same time. She could attack from a distance whilst Arenea engaged up close. No matter how skilled this woman was supposed to be, simultaneously defending herself from close-ranged and long-ranged attacks would prove to be difficult, and it would ultimately wear her out. For now, the heiress would watch Arenea's next move and keep her eyes peeled for an opening.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Fishing Hamlet
Lucem The One Eyed Bandit ​

The first strike of Ren's triad assault hit true, the wooden ball careening into the hulking fishman's eye stocked with a meaty thud. The tender flesh surrounding the creature's beady right eye was almost eager to give way, collapsing into itself under the weight of the ball's impact and shredding the eye held within to a pulpy mess. The creature reeled in pain from the strike, and batted the second ball off of its path with a blind, furious swing.

Its remaining eye twitched, glowering with a hate even hotter than the flames that had previously scorched it. It spotted Ren's oncoming, third attack and then heaved the whole of its beleaguered body word in a single, swift snap of movement. Red Shade exploded through the creature's body, cutting a trench through scorched scales and briny flesh alike, but the creature had diverted the blow. When the umbrella-spear emerged from the beast's body, it did so from its shoulder in a paltry shower of blood and nought more, rather than the hail of grey matter that the boy may have hoped for.

The hulking fishman was not yet done with the boy either. As it had caught the head of his spear with its shoulder, it too had snatched its haft. Fat, bloated fingers sat wrapped around the spear's length, smothering Ren's own to lock both the boy and weapon in place.

Then, the beast's gullet bloated and engorged, puffing up like that of a frog's. Behind the taut-pulled screen of skin and scales, a cauldron of putrid bile bubbled, filling the pseudo-sac in an instant and then continuing to rise up and out of the creature's maw. It exploded from behind rows of needle-sharp teeth, a foul concoction of stomach acid and mucus, flowing through the air like a tidal wave of liquid pestilence. It crashed into Ren with all the fury of the ocean the hulking fishman called home, knocking him clean of the beast and coating him in a thick layer of the thick, vicious acid. It bit into his skin and garb, sizzling lightly as it ate away at skin and cloth alike.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Twisted Woods
Rantos Nobody Special ​

"YYYyyOOOuuUUuu..." A thin, raspy voice creaked out from the monster assaulting Ira. It stood undistracted by Leo's cursed majickings, fixing its gaze exclusively on the white-haired boy that had wounded it.

"YYOOOOOoooooUUU!" Its body, lanky and meters wide in every direction, snapped forward with an uncanny quickness. "you, YOU, YOU. HUUUuuuRt ME!" It screeched as it hurtled towards the boy, barreling into his chest and knocking the wind out of him as its cries of frustration reached their peak. Ira's body flew wide, hurtling through the air from the sheer speed of the impact. As the creature made contact, the sound of splitting wood married with that of crunching bone, and the creature squeaked out in pain.

"ooWWWieeEEE..." The creature muttered again, the shoulder with which it had attacked Ira with now leaking the same thick, red sap as its leg. "WWWwwwHHhhooo diiDDD thhAAaaTTTtt?" It croaked, and its head swung back a forth, scanning the woods for its phantasmal assailant. Eventually, its head arched towards Leo, and its gaze fixed on the boy. The creature huffed, and its expression flitted through sadness, fear, confusion, and finally, it returned to hate.

"yyYOu! TOOOoooOOO!" The creature bellowed, flying into another tantrum. Blood-sap oozed quickly from its wound as its fury boiled, and its gullet swelled up, fat and purple. Its body still aching from its exchange with Ira, it now chose to engage Leo from range. A fat, bulbous seed pushed its way out of the creature's throat, stretching the creature's head wide as it worked its way to the front of its mouth. The creature's head swayed on its long, writhing neck through the whole affair, aligning itself with Leo's frame until finally, a noise that could be compared to a cannon shot rang out through the woods. The gigantic seed flew freely in Leo's direction, and both the creature's neck and body snapped backwards from the force of the attack.

It whimpered softly, even as its attack flew free, slowly recovering its grossly distended jaw, Leo already gone from its infantile mind.

 

[Nobody Special]

Leonardo Aquila
Location: Twisted Woods
Interacting: Ira ( Rantos ), Cursed Spirit ( The One Eyed Bandit )
________________________________________________________________________________

How... unsightly...

As the pair's revolting opponent began bellowing in Ira's direction, Leo's sickle continued to cautiously sway. "My, my. Ira, it looks like you've upset it!" He called out, trying his best to make himself heard through the incessant cries that came from the disgusting amalgamation that stood before them. "So, which of us is going to hold it and rock it back to sleep? I'd volunteer myself, but I was never great with children. My cousins would always cry the second I held them, and--" His ramblings were cut short when the curse suddenly launched itself forward with an explosive burst of speed.

Because he was caught off guard, instead of rescuing Ira once again with his markings, Leo instead launched his sickle forward with all his might. And while he managed to get a decent hit in after the creature had already hurt itself by attacking, he had also lost his main source of ranged support. "Merda." Blue eyes tracked the soaring body of his classmate for a few seconds, and the mark that had rested upon the forehead of their attacker was now sitting neatly on Ira's own forehead. If the poor boy were to get lost-- or, hopefully, find the student village-- Leo would be able to find him at some point. For now, though, he had much greater things to focus on.

As he turned back to face the curse, he noticed that it was crying out in pain once again, now searching frantically to find someone to pin its mostly-self-inflicted injury on. Once its frustrated glare finally landed on Leo, he noticed that his sickle was still sitting inside of the wound, and he quickly yanked his chain, snatching it back towards him before throwing his hands up in protest. "Woah, woah, calmati!" He mockingly objected, still somehow able to joke around, as he watched the sappy, discolored 'blood' seep from the wounds. "You can not get mad at me! You did that to yourself, I just... made it a little worse by hitting it right after. A bad coincidence, okay??" It seemed that the curse was capable of speech, possibly even holding a conversation. It was dangerous-- that was for sure. And Leo now had to face it alone. So, why was he still grinning?

The beast screeched at Leo yet again, now preparing what appeared to be a ranged attack by regurgitating an enormous kernel that was surely aimed straight for him. Cautiously, his eyes flickered to a spot a good distance to his right, and a mark appeared there. Then, another directly in front of him. He would have preferred to just get out of the way immediately, but the curse had already seen his technique. If it was as intelligent as he assumed it was, it might aim for the spot he conveyed himself to and crush him then and there. He waited in suspense for a brief moment, before the thunderous eruption of the seed being fired off signaled him to leap forward onto his marking.

Now on the right of the curse, he looked at the crash site to assess the damage. It was a swing and a miss, but getting hit by that surely would have killed him. Wasting no time, his sickle shot forward again, this time hooking the mouth of the beast and holding it ."Still here!" He exclaimed, waving at the childish monster with a twisted smile. "You know," he mused, planting his feet into the ground to anchor himself and keep its jaw locked open. "I've never gone hunting and had my prey shoot something back at me." Harbinger was deeply ensnared into the flesh of the curse's mandible, like a fishing hook stuck in the mouth of a bass, and moving was sure to only make the wound worse. Time was hastily dwindling. Leo would have to handle things here and get to the village as quickly as possible.

"Say," He continued, his parade of mockery and provocation having no clear end. He raised a finger and pointed at the seed that had just been blasted at him. "Got any more of those in store? I wonder if anybody heard that loud blast." His cheeks flushed, and he stared at the curse with a day-dreamy gaze. "I hope Signorina Fortinbras nurses me back to health. You need to hurt me more for that to happen, though..." He snapped his fingers, now yelling at the 'child' with a sudden, demanding tone. "Andiamo! Fire another one off at me, now! Show me why I shouldn't lob your damned head off right now, you worthless infant!"​

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Dour Bog
simj26 Wxnter ​

"That's why there's two of you ladies, ain't it?" The woman scoffed at Aranea's provocation. "To even to odds!"

Even as Nyx batted down her most recent volley, a cocksure smile remained on the woman's lips. Her eyes fixed on Aranea as she advanced through the air, knife at the ready. She returned her current bow to its place, and replaced it with another. Compared to the previous two, which had been forgettably plain, it shone with an air of dignity. Dusty and old as it looked, light still faintly gleamed along its shallowly 'm' shaped composite body, and she drew its empty string back deeply, aligning it with Aranea's advancing form.

Her grin parted, and a bellow loosed from her gut in tandem with the string's release.

"Fire all!" Her voice echoed through the swamp, and as it reached each of her arrows they snapped to attention. They made impossible turns and accelerated within a moment's notice, converging from every which way upon Aranea's form.

She'd have moved to reinforce her volley, but at that moment Baskerville came bounding onto her. She spun around, turning to face the hound rather than its master, but as used to the swampland as she was, they still labored her movements. Baskerville was already halfway through the air when she'd turned to meet him, and the best she could do to protect herself was meeting the hound's attack with a shoulder-check, which sent them both sprawling.

"Oh-ho! Three now, is it? Shouldn't I be the one complaining here!?"

 

[simj26]

The rush of the wind against her face as she closed in on her target was a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one. Dancing in between life and death was, from her perspective, one of the few things that made this wretched life all the more worth living, and every fight all the more worth fighting. Her family be damned, her life be damned. Here, she flew with her own wings, with or without her Binding Vow. Here, she could express herself in her truest form. Though her expression remained as stony as ever, the glimmer in her eyes betrayed her desire to bring her knives into her target. The woman loosed another barrage at her, with all her arrows directed towards her. Who would be the bettee of the two? The archer's howling arrows, or her knives?

Aranea grasped her threads, the glimmer in her eyes now a bright gleam. Like puppets, her other knives lifted themselves from their holsters. 'Even the odds', the archer had said. Aranea was more than a match for the archer, there were no odds to even. That much, she believed. Paltry parlour tricks like these were of little consequence. Still in the air, she twisted her body around, whipping her arms and legs across and around her, like a possessed gymnast. Her blades whirled around her in a dervish as the arrows shot forth at her. Arrows and knives clashed, and showers of sparks erupted from their battle, scattering broken arrows and disconnected knives into the water below.

Aranea landed in the water behind the archer. Pain seared from the fresh new cuts she had received from the near misses of the arrows that she missed, but none of them were so disastrous as the one that lanced through her left thigh, where one arrow had found its unfortunate mark. Her expression shifted into one of frustration as Aranea gritted her teeth. Not like this. She started to stand up, but fell to her one good knee, mired by the water and the pain. Though she was crippled for the time being, Baskerville had finally bowled over the archer. It wouldn't take long, however, for the archer to overpower the doggedly persistent hound. Time was of the essence. Aranea had one more weapon up her sleeve.

"Mistress Starforge, if you would kindly!" She called out.

 

[Lucem]

Ren Kosaka
Caught in a vice-like grip and submerged in a sea of burning bile, Ren was overwhelmed by sudden pain. As a reflex, he instantly began healing the newly created wounds by channeling his cursed energy. As soon as the acid burned through his clothes and started eating away at his flesh, he repaired himself and prevented it from melting his body. However, he couldn't do anything about the pain itself.

Unfortunately, the corrosive body fluid was as painful as it was disgusting. While in the creature's grasp, there was nothing he could do to defend against it except guard his face. The burns healed fast, but his body was constantly assaulted as he bathed in the putrid poison. It threatened to melt through his skin and bones, trying to eat away at him until nothing was left. Still, even in a situation like this, he remained calm. He was no stranger to pain and had endured far worse in the past. Even if he hated having to experience it in the first place, he could put up with any kind of discomfort.

"Uwa!" As soon as he was washed away, he called out to the snake that had been shielding itself from the torrent with his body. On command, Uwa unhinged his jaw and opened the living vault of weapons once again. Reaching inside, Ren quickly withdrew a kusarigama and threw the long chain around the fish creature's wide neck. Before hitting the ground, he pulled with all his strength and swung himself around the massive body until he was clinging to its back.

Taking a deep breath, he increased the amount of cursed energy flowing through his body. Enhancing his strength, he pulled on the chain as hard as he could, as if he were trying to strangle the behemoth to death. With one hand on the chain, he reached for the umbrella that was still lodged in the gory mess of muscle and scales. Intent on making up for his last attempt at decapitation, he pushed the tip of Red Shade deep into the fishman's neck, still refusing to loosen his iron grip on the metal noose. When it refused to go any further, he poured his cursed energy into the umbrella and opened it.

It was as if a miniature bomb had gone off inside the creature's body. As soon as Ren unleashed the crimson canopy, the neck he had been hanging from exploded from the burst of cursed energy, subjecting the beach to a small shower of blood and gray matter. Along with the remains of his target, he fell onto the soft sand and rolled out of the way to avoid being crushed by the corpse.

Hoping that the fishman wouldn't rise from the dead, Ren took a deep breath and looked over his injuries. Aside from some lingering pain, his body was in pretty good condition. All the wounds created by the acid had been healed, and he could still move his arm without issue. His clothes, however, were not as pristine. Most of his jacket had melted, and several holes had been burned into his shirt and pants, leaving him victim to the cold seaside breeze. First the goat, now this. This was the second time he'd been covered in spit.

While Uwa swallowed the cursed tools, Ren recalled his beads and went to Ostraca's side. "You okay?" It seemed like she managed to deal with the remaining grunts, but he saw her take a hard hit to the head. It would've been bad if she got a concussion at a time like this. "If you want, I can take a look at you."

Unfortunately, his healing abilities weren't enough to deal with all of their problems. Scrunching his nose, he removed one of the remaining pieces of raw fish that stuck to his body. Cursed energy couldn't do anything about the foul odor. "Maybe we should wash off in the water first." He couldn't help but wonder if the other students were fighting battles as messy as theirs.

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Fishing Hamlet
Lucem​

There was a broiling of flesh as the creature's various chunks and giblets rained down onto the beach. The cursed energy that had filled its body worm its way out of the physical flesh, causing it to pop and splutter as it lay dead upon the sand. One of them fell on Adina's flesh, still bubbling away.

"Peachy." She answered, wiping the chunk of dead flesh from her forehead as she got to her feet. "The biggest bruise is on my ego, I think. Nothing else a good night's sleep won't see to."

As the greater fishman fizzled away, its minions joined it. The corpses that littered the hamlet bubbled and liquefied, eventually bleeding away into the air. When they were finished, not even a spot of blood remained upon the beach, and yet the smell of them still remained. The gentle lapping of waves replaced the sounds of combat, as if to inform the pair of Sorcerers that things, now, were safe. Adina huffed a relieved sigh as they dissolved into the air.

"That's not a bad idea, but I don't think we know each other well enough to be bathing buddies. I'll wait until I can get in a shower." The purple-haired girl dusted herself off, billows of sand puffing out from her clothes. It snaked its way into the air, hanging freely and unnaturally, twisting and coiling as if caught on currents of phantasmal force. The cursed energy that had driven the fishmen forward still hung over the village, coalescing over the beach's surface in a deep, ominous fog.

The fog built and danced, encircling the sorcerer pair in a haze identical to the one that had carried them to the beach, but lacking the violence that had separated them from their peers. The transition, this time, was quick. Only a few moments after the fog had enveloped the pair, it collapsed in on itself, crashing down and sinking down into the now grassy earth below.

Before Ren and Adina lay a small hamlet. Lights shone brightly in a few of its windows, and it was in a far better state of repair than the one they had been standing in a moment ago. Adina seemed relatively unsurprised by the affair, turning to Ren and flashing him a wry smile.

"Well. Aren't we glad we didn't go splashing around in the ocean?"

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

TIME SKIP
===============​

Sunrise came early on the island. Fresh, morning sunlight cascaded gently across the open ocean which surrounded the isolated spit of land, diffusing through and illuminating the layer of fog which always seemed to persist at its shores.

A new day.

The latest batch of students had spent their first night on the island, each of them having been allowed their free choice of either one of the small bungalows inside of the student village, or one of the various uninhabited rooms within Fort Dour itself. In terms of amenities, the two were not too dissimilar, but one allowed for more privacy, while the other was only a stone's skip away from where most of their classes would be taking place. Whenever they actually would be taking traditional classes, that is.

The previous day's hazing ritual had mostly gone off without a hitch. A student or two had gone and gotten themselves a nasty scratch or bruise, but this year's batch of 'volunteers' had practiced an appropriate amount of restraint. Well, that, or this batch of students was just tougher than normal. Alastair cracked a grin. He sincerely hoped it was the latter.

The cool, ocean water lapped up and down the beach, occasionally enveloping his exposed feet, but usually leaving them high and dry. He was on lookout, at the moment. Because of some administrative blunder or another, not all of their student had been scheduled onto the same ferry this year. Apparently, it was much more difficult than he'd thought to shove a bunch of kids onboard a boat not only at the same time, but on the same day too.

He sure wished they'd been informed of that before they planned all the festivities out.

Oh well.

===============​

In the mess hall, a skeleton crew milled about behind the scenes. Literally. The surprisingly distinct pitter-pat of dry, human bones on wood would greet anyone who stumbled into the hall. Real, proper, having once belonged inside a meaty, human cage, skeletons marched about the hall's kitchen, with cookware in hand and chef's attire draped across their figures. They reckoned it was funny. It was a morbid sight by most accounts and a student had more than once made the mistake of trying to exorcise the merry gang, but they did their jobs well and without complaint, so here they were. Though, that might have been because they didn't have vocal cords to complain with.

A piping hot spread of breakfast delights lay on display before the kitchen, nestled just below the long, stone window that the kitchen's skeleton crew could be watched through. Eggs, sausages, cereals, and an assortment of breakfasts meats, grains and fruits were out in the open, and free to nab. All of which, the head, skeletal chef would be sure to remind you of if he could, were completely free of blood, sweat, and tears.

The spread was for students and teachers alike, but today only the latter had taken the offering. The island's staff were not infrequent guests to the skeletons' lovely buffet, but today the lot of them had simply had things to do, and places to be.

The head chef would've snorted, if he could, at such a show of impertinence.

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Dour Docks
Elenion Aura Beann AtlannianSpy a z u l a
​

Something about the tides made Alastair feel as if they were protesting. The way they kicked and thrashed about themselves as the ferry approached seemed to communicate to him something to the effect of: "Hey, you! Stop sailing those metal tubs over us! They hurt!"

He spoke a silent apology, on the off chance that his bored, overly whiny personification of the tides had any weight to it.

Meanwhile, the ferry had lurched its way into the bay and was fast approaching the docks. Waves broke across the bow as it pulled into place, chugging along at a significantly faster pace than it had the day prior, a sure sign that the ferryman was just as upset with his increased duties as the waves that his vessel trampled upon. The ferry's passengers would not be met with the same fanfare that those the day prior had. The docks were empty, and if not for the loud, gruff-looking man shouting at them from the beach, they might've thought they had been forgotten about entirely.

"HEEEYYY THERE!" Alastair bellowed, quickly vacating his spot within the tide's embrace, and jogging his way over to the docks. "It's about time! I've been standin' out here on me lonesome for a whole hour now!"

Alastair's feet, which were bare on account of his having forgotten his sandshoes in his excitement, left a trail of wet sand and seawater in his wake. He slowed to a walk as the ferry drew up alongside the dock, and quickly aided the captain in securing it in place. The both of them were quite practised at this point, and it only took the exchange of a few quick, but meaningful nods between the men before it'd been tightly anchored to the dock, and the gangplank had been lowered. Even quicker than their show of teamwork, was the speed with which the captain vanished back into the deck, and shooed his passengers from the vessel.

He was supposed to be having afternoon tea with a nice Russian woman right now, not playing bus driver for a bunch of supernatural brats.

"G'day, kids!" Alastair spoke with the same cheery bellow that he had the day before, and his choice of attire, this time a pair of khaki shorts and the same biker jacket, made him out to be just as upstanding an educator as it had before. That is to say, not really at all. He towered over this group just as much as he had the last, his approach of seven feet making them look even more like the children they were than normal, and he briefly considered whether it'd be more condescending for him to look down at them, or bend down to their level.

"Sorry about the lack of pomp and circumstance. Normally we have a fun set of uh..." He considered whether or not to tell them the truth about the previous day's events. "...Traditions to greet the new students, but things got a bit too heated for us yesterday to do it all over again." In other words, they didn't have anything left to haze them with.

"Anywise. The other kids should already be havin' breakfast. You lot keen to join 'em? You're free to wander the island instead if you'd like, but we'll be briefin' you guys on some stuff as soon as the breakfast buffet closes up, so it'll be a waste of yer time if you ask me."

Extending out from the dock were two paths. The closer of which spiralled off into a thinly wooded area, and then further out across the flatter parts of the island. 'Student Village' had been carved into a wooden sign that pointed down its length, and had long been rotted into a mess of green and black-brown by the nearby seawater. The other led up and along one of the island's many oceanic cliffs. Unlike its sibling, it had not been graced a piece of vintage signage, but only because there was no need for it. Looming tall and proud at the end of the path, the ever dramatic-looking Fortress Dour sat, as grey and imposing as it'd been the day it was born. That is, at least, aside from the sign now hanging above its central gate, which clearly marked it as a school.

"I, meself, am starved, so just follow after me if you're looking to socialize or eat. If you don't, then just show up at the village in an hour or so. We'll be talkin' to you all then."

 

[AtlannianSpy]

Renee De Cortagne
Almost as soon as as the gangplank had been lowered onto the docks a slender girl with a guitar case on her back emerged from the boat's cabin and wobbled urgently over it, then promptly collapsed onto her knees by the side of the dock, dropping her head over the side and letting out an unmistakeable retching noise, forfeiting the partially digested remains of a baguette up to the briny depths below.

"Breakfast number one didn't seem to want to stay with me," said Renee weakly, as she pulled herself back up into a sitting position on the wooden dock and wiped her pale, clammy face clean. "So I think I'll skip round two," Renee said weakly, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly. Honestly how pathetic. After everything Renee's father had put her through, he would turn in his grave to see her undone by mere seasickness. On the other hand it was partially his fault that Renee hadn't realized how vulnerable she was to the affliction: Nearly every time they'd gone out on the sea he'd ended up throwing her in to tread water for hours and the resulting hypothermia had always taken more of her attention than any nausea.

"It's Alistair you said yes?" Renee said , finally standing up. "I think I'll get some fresh air instead," with that she tottered off in the direction of the village, her gait becoming gradually steadier as she left the scent of salt and subtle rot that accompanied always accompanied the ocean behind.

The worst part of it all, Renee reflected mournfully, as she made her way along the rustic little path she was following, was that the sandwich had been truly delicious on the way down. There weren't all that many things Renee would sincerely miss about Paris, but the bread and by extension the sandwiches were certainly one of them. A jambon beurre, with bistro style ham, creamy camembert and most importantly the rich butter and crusty bread that could only be found in Paris. Renee had procured the baguette as a sort of going away present for herself from a nice local bakery near the UCA campus and had woken up early on the ferry to enjoy it.

As her stomach settled down, Renee became gradually more attentive of her surroundings. The island wasn't unattractive in a bleak, weather-beaten sort of way, but "Dour" wasn't exactly an unfair moniker either. Idly Renee slipped her phone out of one the large pockets on her olive jacket and unlocked it, wondering if the wifi would be better down in the village or up at the castle, or if there was any wifi to be had at all.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Renee murmured and when, predictably, there was no response added: "Sure is peaceful though,"

 

[Beann]

Collab with Elenion Aura

---

Ferry rides were meant to be serene and calming. With the current weather, an infant could be lulled to sleep by the rocking of the waves against the vessel. For Norie though, it felt like she was taking the brunt of a hurricane while also being flipped upside down and inside out with the whole world around her spinning. Her vision was blurry, mostly because she was squinting to avoid the bright reflection from the water but also because she felt incredibly lightheaded. She was hunched over the side of the ferry, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail as an indication that she was a fucking wreck at the moment. “Ughh - get me off this fucking boat!” Norie groaned as one hand clutched the railing while the other clutched her stomach. She had prevented herself from throwing up what felt like the hundredth time, hoping the sea wouldn’t claim her dinner from last night.

“Hey, are we on the fuckin’ ocean?” Mikey asked as he leaned his back and elbows up against the metal railing, angling his head back to peer up at the morning sky. He looked over at the girl beside him with a bemused expression. She must not have heard him the first time. Smirking impishly, he leaned over to nudge her in the arm with his elbow. “Hey,” he repeated. “Is this the fuckin’ ocean?” That fact that Norie got sea-sick—and that he was just discovering it now—was just really fuckin’ funny to the young punk for some reason. Mikey, on the other hand, felt fine. Sure, it had taken him some time to get his ‘sea-legs’, or whatever, but once he’d gotten used to the push and pull of the vessel beneath his feet, he felt right at home out at sea. Hell, he’d even spent some time learning from the old sea dog that Jujutsu Society—in their infinite wisdom—had chartered to haul their merry band of rejects out to the middle of nowhere. The old skipper hadn’t wanted to give the kid the time of day, but he eventually came around. Maybe.

Norie let out a groan the first time Mikey asked his question. That fucking bastard loved to show off how well he adapted to the sea. She waved him off with a weak hand, hoping that was enough of a response to get him to shut up. It wasn’t, unfortunately, as he prodded her arm with his elbow. She considered throwing up instantly at that physical contact, to prove a point how sick he made her just by touching her. However, Norie hated the feeling of throwing up. The acid always burned horribly at the back of her throat and it obviously left a sour taste afterward. Norie weakly lifted her head up, just enough for Mikey to see her eyebrows closely knit together behind a few strands of her white hair. “The fuck kind of –” She jerked forward, dipping her head as she could feel the contents in her stomach start to get upset. After some effort of keeping it inside, she took a deep breath and looked back at him. “The fuck kind of question is that?”

When she looked up at him, Mikey could see for the first time just how shitty she was feeling. It took all of the willpower he could muster not to laugh in her face. And even then, his eyebrow started to twitch as the corner of his mouth began to tremble from the effort of keeping the laughter contained. ‘What kinda fucked up asshole laughs at the expense of others,’ you ask? This asshole, that’s who. And it’s not like Norie’s just any old schmuck. She’s his best friend, so mind your god-damn business already! “Lookin’ good, Snorie,” he said, mostly to piss her off, before his mind remembered the question it had posed. “Whaddaya mean, ‘what kinda question is that?’ I’m serious! Is this,” Mikey turned on a dime and threw a hand out to gesture at the soft rolling sea, “the fuckin’ ocean or not?” It’s likely that they’d arrive at their destination before he got an answer out of Norie that would satisfy him. Which was all just as well for Mikey. He was starting to get hungry.

If only the world around her wasn’t spinning, she’d give Mikey a taste of her knuckles. How could he be serious? Could he not see with his fucking eyeballs that they were out at sea – oh fuck no. He can’t be serious. Did he actually want to know if it was the ocean or the sea? That fucking idiot, it was like him to ask the stupidest questions at moments like these. Norie mustered the strength to stand up tall to face him, which was still more or less matching the height of him leaning against the railing. “Do your fucking eyeballs work or do I gotta–” Oh, no. All the previous gags were just to test her willpower but she immediately knew this was the real fucking deal. Shit shit shit. No time to throw her head over the railing, she instead aimed for the next best place to hurl – Mikey’s shoes. It was as if the gods spat in her face because right as she threw up, the ferry docked and the gangplank was lowered.

“Yeah my fuckin— SHIT!” Mikey saw it happening as if in slow motion, the expression on Norie’s face changing as the lump in her throat rose up into her mouth... He sprang away from the railing and landed on the deck with a thud. Too late. The splash of Norie’s spilled guts ricocheted and left flecks of… Whatever the fuck Norie has had for dinner last night. Gruel, maybe. “Shiiiiit. C’mon, maaaaan.” Mikey protested at the sight of his kicks as he slipped his feet out from inside of them. Hopefully somebody on the island had some bleach, or something to clean this shit with. “Real nice, asshole.” Mikey snarled at Norie as he got back up and gingerly pinched his shoes between two fingers, shouldering past her as he trudged down the gangplank. He glowered at the mountain of a man who greeted them, if only because glowering was his neutral state. He held his shoes away from him as he waited either for Norie to stumble off the boat, or Paul Bunyan here to show him the way to food. Whichever came first.

Once she emptied out her dinner from last night, Norie gasped for air, using the back of her wrist to wipe the residue from her lips. Her eyes followed where Mikey had landed on the deck, seeing she didn’t miss completely. Norie’s lips slowly curved into a shit-eating grin as she weakly followed after Mikey. When her feet immediately touched solid land, she stretched out her arms and sighed in satisfaction, “finally!” Her whole seasick episode was left on the ferry, as well as the chunks that the crew would have to clean up eventually. “I feel so much fucking better,” Norie draped an arm around Mikey’s shoulder, forcing him to hunch down to her height as she looked at the old man that approached them. She tuned out most of the pleasantries but her attention refocused on the mention of breakfast. “Shiiiit, lead the way, old man. I just lost my dinner so I’ve got plenty of room for breakfast.”

---

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[Lucem]

Ren Kosaka
Fork in hand, Ren felt his appetite dissipating as he stared at the plate of food in front of him. There was a good chance some of the other students felt the same way, probably not feeling as peckish after seeing who was responsible for preparing their meals. Although, his reason had nothing to do with the boney bunch working in the mess hall. He'd been surrounded by all kinds of cursed spirits and shikigami from a young age, so things like that didn't really bother him. Instead of the skeletal staff, he was more focused on the fish he'd absentmindedly grabbed from the table.

When making his plate, he didn't think too much about what he was doing, simply taking what he normally ate during breakfast. However, once he sat down and began cutting into the smoked herring, memories of yesterday's hazing ritual came flooding back. Moments after getting off the boat, he'd been thrown around the island and forced to deal with a ferocious school of fish-like fiends. Despite being burned by a torrent of acidic bile, the fight itself wasn't that bad. The really annoying part came afterwards.

While he could easily heal the injuries he sustained, there wasn't anything he could do about the damage done to his clothes. Most of his jacket had melted away, and his shirt was littered with holes, forcing him to deal with the uncomfortable sea breeze until he was able to change. Being down an outfit so soon after docking was bad, but the lingering smell had been even worse. Rather than relaxing after the long voyage and chaotic orientation, he'd spent the night trying to get the stench of stomach acid and fish guts off of him. He wasn't sure how things went for the others, but he imagined their experiences were about the same as his.

As he thought about the school's traditional initiation, he remembered that a second batch of students would be arriving this morning. He wondered if they'd be subjected to the same greeting. It wasn't like he was hoping they'd have to suffer through it just because he and the others did, but it seemed a bit unfair if the new arrivals got off easy because they were put on a different boat.

He had a few gripes with the school so far, but there was no point in dwelling on them. Things would only get harder from this point onward, so all he could do was adjust to the Baltic branch's way of doing things. It wasn't like his time in Japan and London had been any easier.

Returning to his food, Ren stabbed into the browned fish. Tasting the familiar smokiness of kippers, he continued to eat in silence. If there was one positive thing he could say about the school so far, it was that the food was good.

 

[Nobody Special]

Leonardo Aquila
Location: BIUCA, Mess Hall
Interacting: Ren ( Lucem ), Aranea ( simj26 )
________________________________________________________________________________



Despite going to bed extremely weary, Leonardo had somehow managed to get a good night’s rest and enter the dining hall with a bright, energized smile. Man, was yesterday a mess! Sure, he had managed to hunt down that… baby-faced creature he had encountered, but he spent the rest of his allotted hour frantically searching for the very student village he’d been standing in right now. Luckily, he was able to find it before his time ran out, which would explain why he was happily sauntering into the cafeteria without a care in the world.

He was slightly annoyed by his lack of injury, however, though there was no trace of ire in his facial expression at all. He had been particularly serious about the comment he had made about that Fortinbras girl nursing him back to health, but he had accidentally gotten too excited and ended up exorcising the curse he had been torturing much earlier than he had intended to. As a result, whatever injuries he did sustain were nothing more than minor scratches. There was no reason for him to request her service if all he had was a scraped knee. Receiving ministration from a member of the not-so-luxurious Fortinbras family would have to be special.

He approached the troupe of bare-boned chefs– or, more specifically, the food behind them– with a minimal reaction to the bizarre sight. He had been briefly taken aback when he initially saw them upon entering the room, but he had definitely seen much worse in his short, short life. First, he grabbed a plate, then two slices of toast, two packs of single-serve orange marmalade, and some fresh concord grapes. His eyes trailed over to the hollowed sockets of the nearest skeletal culinarian, who he could somehow tell was definitely female, and gently lowered his head towards her in a thankful gesture.

“Grazie, mio caro.” He said, staring deep into her orbits with a slight look in his eye that read, ‘Wow, I’m going to look like this when I die!’ and his lips curling into that familiar, unnerving smile. “I’m sure this is going to be a deliziosa colazione.”

Suddenly, he raised his free hand to his cheek and leaned in a bit closer. “Although, I wonder– is there still a brain within that beautiful skull of yours? Or is this the doing of some sort of cursed technique? I've still yet to fully comprehend exactly what happened yesterday, and I'm not fond of remaining ignorant when it comes to things I don't understand.” He gestured his hand towards his cursed tool, which was now fastened neatly onto his hip. “I’d crack you open and find out myself, but I’d rather not do such a thing, on the chance that you’re still somehow… well, alive.”

Leo had more questions for the cook, but refrained from asking in case his previous statements were actually able to be heard or otherwise understood by the walking corpses. So, instead, he pivoted off his back foot to turn around and find a table to sit at. As he walked, he noticed the familiar, mundane face of Ren Kosaka, who was quietly enjoying his own breakfast. As he passed his fellow black-haired classmate, he placed a hand on the side of his mouth and called out to him.

“Buon giorno, Signor Kosaka!” He called, waving at the student with a fake, bright grin. “Do try to cheer up. You’ve looked grim since yesterday! All that sulking will make you look much older than you truly are. Besides…” His grin lowered itself into a smirk as he uttered the next sentence. “You’re a Kosaka, aren’t you? Try to be a bit more proud– enthusiastic, at least.”

Next, Leo caught a glimpse of a much more interesting face, framed by short, brown hair. Immediately, he slid into a seat at Aranea’s table, leaning his head on his hand and smiling at her.

“Good morning to you, Signorina!” He cheerily greeted her. Opening the packets of jam to begin spreading them onto his toast after popping a grape into his mouth. “Say, if you don’t mind me asking, did you fare well during our little exercise yesterday? I’ll admit, I was hoping we would be paired up, but I suppose things can’t always go my way.” A lie, but not necessarily an obvious one. In truth, he didn’t care who he ended up with, nor did he have any specific preference. He had just as much fun with his assigned partner than he would have had with anyone else. Deep blue eyes gazed into her mocha brown ones, and would be quick to follow them were she to break eye contact with him. “Did you have fun? Are you looking forward to seeing some more classmates today? Will you marry me? Everybody seems to be so, how you say– down in the dumps!”​

 

[simj26]

She could prepare better.

It was a subconscious thought that invaded her mind as she gazed heartlessly across the spread that had been prepared by the literal skeleton crew. With a pair of tongs, she gently pushed a greasy sausage to its side, then nudged another egg, equally as greasy in its tray. She sighed, shrugged, and began to foist a simple meal for herself onto one plate- she was not a fan of heavy meals. Though the cooking was only slightly above average, she could not complain. She had had worse, and if she had to give a compliment to what had been served here, she would say that it was…above average. She would not pay any compliments to the chef, but she would eat what they had prepared without complaint. She selected her meal carefully, planning her dietary requirements for the day as necessary, then quietly made her way to a seat, away from the rest of the students. Kosaka was off at one side, and he seemed to be enjoying the food, but she saw neither hide nor hair of the rest of the other students. The dining hall was empty as could be. It wouldn’t be for long, for, if she had remembered rightly, there would be another installation of students arriving anon.

That emptiness was dispersed by the arrival of the next student, Leonardo Aquila, the one that had offered her ‘5 stars’, as his Romanian drawl, peppered with foreign linguistics began to drown out the peace and quiet that she and Kosaka shared. She continued to quietly cut her sausages into edible pieces, eating them as properly as she could, attempting to tune out the Bucharest student’s voice out. She found herself momentarily wondering why he was attempting to speak to the skeleton chefs, and much to her horror, realised that he was attempting to flirt with one of them, before composing herself, diverting all her attention to how runny the yolks of her eggs were.

How unfortunate for her that Aquila, after having made himself be known to every being in the dining hall, living or otherwise, approached her. Her scowl deepened, as she gnashed through the last bit of her sausage. She prayed to no god, but she hoped one of them was listening to her when she requested that he not try to place himself in front of her. In the next few seconds, however, it would seem that all of the deities had forwarded her to voicemail instead.

She let him talk. He was determined to not break eye contact with her, it seemed, though she was more intent on consuming what food remained on her plate than conversation. She supposed she would have to humor him. He was her better, after all. He rattled out a number of questions, and she nodded silently to each and every one of them, before finally, he drew into silence. It was her turn to speak, at last. “Master Aquila. This is not a wholly unpleasant surprise. I would query as to what do I owe the pleasure of being graced with your presence, but alas, you have beaten me to the punch, as they say.” She lowered her silverware onto the table, took in a deep breath, then shot out her answers. “If I had not fared well, I would not be here, exchanging pleasantries with you today. No, I did not have fun, it was a test. I am neither for nor against meeting new classmates. I will not marry you. There are only two of us here, and, by default, I am, as you say, ‘glum’. I will attempt to rectify this behaviour, but do not expect much.”

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Kurihara Shizuka​

The molten silver that had earlier commanded the skies rippled and churned above the harbour, the clouds dispersing one after another as soon as they unloaded their last whips of rain upon the earth. In its stead came the sun, mellow and gentle like a mother's touch as it swept over the bruised landscape and cradled its inhabitants in forgiveness. One after another the doors opened, sailors and villagers alike peeking their heads out to assess the damage.

"Holy mother goose...Maybe you were better off missing that last ferry yesterday little lady" The old man grabbed his cap and scratched his head where he stood on the threshold, a slightly shorter blonde head popping out from behind his hunched back the moment he did.
Much like he had said, she probably wouldn't have survived the storm if she hadn't taken shelter yesterday. From the branches on the trees that had been stripped clean to the hollowed fields, it seemed like the storm had only left the strongest of structures standing.

"Oooooh, you saved my life, old man!" Well, to anyone's knowledge, that was.

Too busy scrambling for her luggage, the girl didn't notice the scoff that she earned at his nickname nor the slight frown that came to surface as he observed her. She was a strange sight indeed in the little village that rarely saw any visitors and much less so young ones like herself.

Dressed in an all hot pink tracksuit with her blonde hair pulled into two wavy pigtails on opposite sides of her head, face painted like a mime on some kind of self-discovery journey; his wife would have let him have it if she had been there to answer the door. Perhaps rightly so as any stranger spelt trouble in this place. Still, he couldn't resist the urge to cross his arms and huff at her self-entertained charade. Pulling up what he assumed was some form of crayon to smear on her lips.

"You sure don't seem as worried as a person who could've been caught out in that should be. Say where was it you were heading again?".

She froze up in whatever motion she was going through, opened her mouth then closed it again as she pressed her finger against it.

"Curse...cursed island..." She mused "-Ah!" and snapped her fingers. The girl spun around on her heels "The united cursed Baltics! Wait, isn't that just Britain? Is Britain in the Baltics?”.

The man expelled any remaining air in his lungs in a cough, grey hair turning whiter by the second. “Listen lady…” He pinched his nose bridge in what was probably despair “-Perhaps it’s better you turn back home.”

She shook her head “Nuh uh, can’t do.”

Her quick refusal prompted the man to cock a brow “And what urgent business do you have out there?”.

The blonde suddenly became all fiddly, avoiding his gaze the best she could while scratching her chin “Uh…I’m…visiting a cousin!”.

“Uh huh.”
“Yup.”

Her insistence seemed to have marked the period to the conversation, seeing as the man instead hauled her sport bag over his shoulder. Almost pain-stakingly so with an imperceptible resistance to his movements that extended to the pursed lips. She was still young, not yet wizened by life’s harsh winds nor marked by bygone memories of happiness in smile wrinkles. Perhaps that was also why she seemed so unbothered. Had yet to form that pessimistic mask of resilience that only became more solid with the years passing, harder to take off as its claws dug deeper into the skin. He stopped and glanced at the framed photo on the kitchen table with the three figures, one a man the spitting image of himself but younger, a woman neatly dressed in a suit and a young girl in her school uniform.

“Let’s go then. I’ll help you carry your luggage to the pier.”
“Oh? Thank you so much old man!”
“Ugh, don't push it lassie.”

The wind was neither cold nor warm as it caressed her cheeks, a strange complacency present in how it gently curled her locks around its invisible fingers. Perhaps mother nature had gotten enough from her tantrum yesterday and was now intent on making it up to her. Shizuka threw her arms over the railing on the ferry with an exasperated release of breath.

“I just hope teachers won’t be too mad at me for being late…” Her cherry lips formed a pout upon the thought “-I mean it’s really that stores fault for dressing their mannequins up so cutely for me to see.”

“To think I would make it this far though.”

Even the old man back at the harbour had seemed to think she was looking out of place. Probably rightly so. But he didn’t seem to have always lived there either, though, judging by the photo on his kitchen table. Life sure had curious ways of putting them in strange places.
The blonde chuckled and laid her head to rest on her crossed arms, the gentle waves overtaking her senses as she closed her eyes and let them carry her into land.

"Wait is this supposed to be a secret thing? Maybe I shouldn't have told the old man..."​

---

! new location: BIUCA harbour
! interactions: none (open for interactions)

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Hushed Trail
AtlannianSpy​

Damn. Fresh air had never smelled quite so nice.

Adina hadn't been hungry. While she may have overcome her trial in terms of strength, she was still wrestling with it in terms of scent. The slick, morbid aroma of her battle with the fishmen had clung to her for hours, ruined her clothes, and spoiled her appetite for what was coming up on twenty hours now. She would've thought that her experience with animal sacrifices would've steeled her stomach for all but the worst, but, then again, she couldn't imagine much that'd quality for worse than those things.

She'd outright given up on everything she'd been wearing the previous day, and thrown all of it into the garbage. It was a good thing she hadn't been wearing her Sunday best. Now, she roamed the island in a fresh set of clothes. A light, airy shirt, a set of jeans, and a thick jacket that served to break the ocean winds that occasionally swept over the island.

In the absence of breakfast to entertain herself with, she'd instead taken to a bit of exploration. She'd only been able to see so much during her hazing, and all she'd wanted to do afterwards was shower and shower again. It was hard to go very far without spotting the coiling wisps of fog that haunted the island. They clung to whatever stood still and upright, like tiny, spectral fingers belonging to the island itself. The fallen log she was resting upon was no exception, and she'd occasionally feel a subtle, damp current of air lapping up against it.

Adina was lost in her absent-minded postulations when she heard the sound of crunching gravel on the approach. Her ears first perked up, and then her eyes lazily wandered in the direction of the encroaching noise. She half expected it to be another trick. A second hazing that'd ruin another set of clothes, but instead, she was pleasantly surprised to spy a familiar looking face.

The bright-haired girl wandered about on her lonesome, muttering some not-so-bright sounding things under her breath, to her presumed audience of none. Adina tracked the girl for a few moments, sorting through her recollections of the girl, before hopping to her feet and setting off in her direction.

"Duth mine eyes deceive?" Adina approached with a sharkish grin and an exaggerated swagger. "Renee, dear? Be thateth thou? Fancy myself delighted!" She spoke with an exaggerated impression of the aristocracy, her voice twisting and overenunciating every vowel that escaped it. "I t'was ever so worried that it would only be mineself and our Princess from our lovely Paris. So imagine mine joy when I spied thine weary visage!"

When she was just about in front of her, she stopped in her tracks, spat out a single giggle, and then dropped the stupid impression.

"Sorry. I was bored. Why are you only just getting here now?"

 

[AtlannianSpy]

Renee De Cortagne
Renee whipped around hard at the sound of footprints, then almost instantly relaxed into a more placid expression of mild surprise as she recognized the approaching figure.

"Ah. Adina! You look...well?" Renee ventured, small talk never having been her strong suit. In actuality her comrade looked a little tired but even Renee had enough sense not to to lead with that, and evidently Adina was still energetic enough to joke around like her usual self so it was unlikely to be anything too serious. At the mention of her delay Renee wrinkled her nose with distaste at the memory.

"I got held up on a job is all," Renee explained. "Nothing terribly powerful, but slippery, it would retreat to a pocket dimension if it sensed anyone powerful nearby so they wanted me to stake out the old church it was haunting from outside its detection range. Eleven days I was posted up in this cruddy motel room with no air conditioning, mainlining their shitty coffee and sleeping on a coach pushed up against the window so I'd be able to wake up and take the shot if it popped its head out. Anyway on day eleven I get a text from Mr. Lucelle, he was managing the case and he tells me that they made a mistake somewhere and its appearances weren't random but tied to a simple ritual the victims unwittingly performed. I think it had something to do with having the crypt doors and the main church doors open at the same time. So Mr. Lucelle goes in, does the ritual and I put a bullet in this thing and we're done. The whole case could have been resolved in fifteen minutes."

Renee sighed heavily. "I got to listen to a lot of trashy day time television while I was waiting though. Plus belle la vie is getting pretty juicy this season, Mirta's husband, who everyone thought died in that skiing accident in season five? He's back now, turns out he faked his death to expose the treachery of his business partners in the big real estate deal in season three. But of course Mirta remarried to Roland in season thirteen who... Oh I'm rambling again aren't I?" Renee coughed slightly. "Anyway what have I missed here? Anything exciting?"

The One Eyed Bandit

 

[The One Eyed Bandit]

Dour Docks > Village Trail
Elenion Aura Beann Sei Shonagon​

"Well!" Alastair gave a hearty laugh at the Bucharest pair's rancorous departure from the ferry. "It's good to see that somebody's feeling excited!" His grin widened. The kids from the previous day hadn't been anything to the effect of glum per se, but they were not would he would describe as lively either.

"Give us a mo' first though." He grumbled, and then rummaged around in his pocket. For within he withdrew a crumpled slice of paper, and his brow furrowed. He was still missing one. In just a few strides, he embarked upon the vessel, and his brick of a head peered into the passenger's cabin.

"Pigtails!" He yelled across the room, and then gave a hearty knock on the walls, which reverberated through the steel of the ship. "Rise and shine, you're here! We ain't want for you be taken home just yet!" His tone was as friendly as ever, but serious. The higher-ups had wanted the kids briefed last light, and off to work at the crack of dawn, so they were already running behind schedule as is. They didn't need to be chasing down stray students for another day or two. He waited until the girl started to stir, and then called her up with a final yell. "Take yer time, just don't let the old codger up in front drive off with you! We'll be just up ahead, just follow the signs to the student village!"

"Right, then! Let's be off!" He turned, stepped off of the vessel and immediately strode past the Bucharest duo. He was just as hungry as the vomit-girl was. "I suppose you two are already associated with one another? Or did you just hit it off on the ferry?" It didn't really matter either way, but he was always eager to learn about his students. It was, he reckoned, a part of his job to try to get an understanding of the kids he was charged with.

"We've got a couple-" He paused, and scrunched his eyebrows together. It was just one now, wasn't it? "We've got another kid from over in Bucharest. I don't reckon you two are familiar with the Leonardo, are ya?"

He threw his head over his shoulder and looked back at the two. He hoped the three of them turned out to be friends, or at least not enemies. The only problem with poaching their kids from the other schools as they did, was the fact that they all already knew each other. The ones that came as friends were a bonus, yeah, but the ones that were already at odds with one another were like powder kegs, especially when they were stuck on somewhere as secluded as this for so much of the year.

And, well, Leonardo did seem like he could be a bit...

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Kurihara Shizuka​

Sleep was just another thing that would never be the same again. Once a friend, cradling her in its protective arms away from reality; now hands that covered eyes and mouth into pitch blackness. There was nothing to see and nothing to see her, and every time she woke up was like ascending from a coma. So naturally, the blonde stirred with a jolt at the ferry's sudden clangouring heartbeat. Replicating what was a gasp that didn't reach the lungs while frantically clasping her face at the newfound consciousness.

"Pigtails!"
"-Rise and shine, you're here! We ain't want for you be taken home just yet!"

Oh, right. The academy. They must've reached the island while she dozed off. Perhaps dozed wasn't the right word to describe it, as she didn't have a need for sleep anymore. Nor was it something she longed for, still shaking off the stiffness to prepare to get going. With a quick few spins on her heel, she quickly assembled her luggage, carrying the two full-packed sport bags with surprising ease over her shoulder and the roller bag in the other. Only stopping short of the cabin door to sneak a quick peek at her reflection in the compact mirror before proceeding.

The island was rustic, almost fantasy-like in its isolated disposition and bare landscape. One breeze enough to rustle through the entirety of its greenery in the shape of rather lacklustre plains; reminiscent of the mountainous rocks that formed the base of the island in its greyish sage tint. Fauna aside, what caught her hazel gaze next was the towering fortress that immediately greeted her in the distance first step out of the cabin. Cobblestones stacked on top of one another in a back-breaking effort to form the intimidating gate fit for a tank and sorcerers alike- A sight that was impressive enough for the blonde to pull out her bejewelled flip phone and snap some pictures.

With a sway and bob to her step, the blonde caught up with the other passengers, wharf croaking against the lulling waves in the background. Waiting for her were two teenagers, probably students much like herself, and an older man she assumed to be in charge. She released the roller bag and stood at attention, hair bouncing animatedly as she did.

"Here, Sir! Sorry for the wait. Renee and I- Renee is here already, right? We got sent on this mission right before getting here and well- you probably already know the details." The details being that she had broken multiple parts after trying to collapse a house on herself and the curse to deny it escape. Needless to say, it didn't work out and instead, she ended up as a crippled bodyguard to the sniper for the remainder of the mission. Only able to receive aid once headquarters had figured out the trick to defeating the curse. The healing process was then a matter of correcting the bone placements and a bit of lounging around which required her to leave later than the others.

Shizuka dropped her hand to her side, leaning ever so slightly forward as she eyed the teenagers curiously from her altitude "You two from Bucharest? Looking forward to working with ya! I'm Shizuka! You can call me Shizu though."

The girl was petite but with a sharp edge to her look, face framed in an angular triangle by her white bangs and the light eyes all the more piercing in its matching countenance. The boy had a similar intensity from the shaved sides of his head to the multiple piercings crowning his ears, reminding Shizuka a bit of the yakuza at home or the people her aunt would always warn her about. Regardless, the blonde flashed a toothy smile that reached her eyes in little crinkles and extended her hand towards the middle of the two for either one to shake it.

"Love your hair by the way." She nodded towards the white-haired girl "It's sooo hard getting that light of a shade when bleaching but it looks great on you!". ​

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! new location: DOUR DOCKS
! interactions: The One Eyed Bandit Elenion Aura Beann