Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[Sir Les Paul]

Midori☆Hoshi​

"Dark Star"​

Species Death Golem
Partner Various / Autonomous Weapon
Rank Two-Star

Location Japan, Hoshi Homeland, Sky Forest
Mission The First Steps
Status Complacent, reaffirmed

​

Tags: @Sybil The Regal Rper

Stubborn, these two.

He saw it. Adra truly had no idea what her own limits were. Honestly, he questioned if she even truly understood what was going on here. Was it her inflexible nature trying to push herself to complete this her way or a certain amount of ignorance about what a soul and spiritual energy truly was? Despite his very warning, she continued. What would come next, he expected she would hate, but it was truly her fault for not stopping when he told her.

As for Zosar, this man... so driven, so capable, yet he missed the forest for the trees. He was already contemplating precisely what Zosar was thinking. If he failed today, he would do better tomorrow. That he would just get stronger until he could do this. That if he just used the correct amount of his wavelength he would eventually get through these trees before he was out. That poor American child... he was so far from actually getting the point.

Midori walked over to the half-conscious, hunched-over Adra and scooped her into his arms to carry her princess style. Even if she could walk, she wouldn't make it out of this forest before her legs gave way entirely. She would have to settle for being stuck in his arms a while, or die. Honestly, now that he thought about it, she might rather die. Regardless, he wasn't about to allow that to happen.

"Won't say a word. You're going right to the hot springs; they're reinvigorating," he told her, in a perfectly flat and almost jovial tone. He wasn't being condescending or overbearing to her. Nor was he poking fun. It was his attempt to avoid triggering her, if that were even possible in her current state.

"Zosar, you on the other hand, I do have some words for," he announced, shifting gears from the attitude he had with Adra. "You're supposed to learn the tricks of this task on your own, but I will give you one tiny hint. This training is a type of conditioning, but it's not for your strength or your endurance. You have that. This is to catch you up on a skill you do not possess. If you're thinking progress is made just by getting these trees down, let allow me to shine some light on the topic. Let's say you managed to brute force your way through five trees, drag them all back, and somehow did all that without learning the skill you need to here. It would be wasted time. Elder Souta could not train you anymore then as he could now."

Midori tilted his head back and over to the side, as if trying to truly get this point drilled into the thick skull that Zosar was so well-known for. "You are training in the ways of the Hoshi. The soulless assassins with stars for eyes--that's what they call us. Think on that. We aren't known for our raw strength, now are we?" he said, shooting Zosar a rhetorical question. He chose his words very carefully. The Hoshi were not truly soulless, but they were called such because when suppressed, only an elite few could detect their souls as faint whispers. Hopefully that hint would give Zosar some insight as to how to proceed; he was sure the man wasn't stupid enough to try carving stars in his pupils.

With that, Midori walked back in the direction of the village, giving Zosar only a quick bit of further information as he did, "I'll be back in about two hours to check on you."

---

Even if Adra had been enraged by the princess carry, she wouldn't have remained conscious much longer to fight it. Even just being in this forest was a drain, and at her current exhaustion, she had next to no resistance to it. At the very least, Midori was completely honest about the following events.

Adra was taken to a bathhouse where women from the Clan took care of her until she awoke. One of them did speak English, albeit broken. Once awake, she was told to undress and take a dip in the cold, mountain spring. These were not the hot springs one might expect. No, instead, they were crystal clear, pretty chilly, and even somewhat shallow. It hardly seemed comfortable or refreshing. As Midori hinted at earlier, they were in fact highly invigorating. The cold and the flow of spiritual energy within the water helped ease the exhaustion. It wouldn't bring one back to their peak, but it certainly washed away the taxation that the trees had put on her. This was hardly some miracle water, but it most certainly was a cure for the side-effects.

Afterwards, a more traditional bath was drawn. These were still not true hot springs, but heated water piped into large, round stone tubs. This was much more relaxing. The hot, clear waters weere a more traditional type of refreshing, and all the normal amenities were present. Although, there was a separate standing station to wash hair. That was not done in the stone tub, apparently. Instead, that occurred before getting into it.

After her bathes and redressing, Adra was finally guided back to Midori. He had been given updates on precisely what her training would include. He had also been given news for himself, which he was quite perturbed by. Midori brought Adra along to a large house with the same wood and paper doors as the others, sliding it open to reveal a hall with a bunch of smaller rooms. He picked one and inside of it was a simple set of tables and mats, traditional for eating. He took his spot and waved his hand down for her to sit.

"I would assume you're starving after all that work. Food is on its way. And, yes, we do have more than just rice and leaves. We have some amazing sashimi, but Ichika-san makes some fantastic curry. I order that with some yakisoba. Different flavors, so I'm sure there will be something you like," he told her, trying to offer some reassurance given this was a foreign meal in a foreign land literally atop one of the highest, most secluded mountains in the country. Still, they weren't tribal barbarians.

"There are some changes to the plans... I'll start your training tomorrow, but it will be finished by someone else while Zosar gets his shit together. It might be a few days before he comes to accept he can't just strongarm his way through the trees, and starts balancing his skills, then probably weeks until he gets good enough at doing so that he'll be ready to train. In that time, Souta deemed it necessary that you learn a technique... I never thought a weapon should. Wavelength Adjust. It's not one I can use, but it's one I know the building blocks for," he explained to her, outlining the expectations for how things would go.

"Essentially, he wants to teach you how to control wavelength so well that when Zosar slips up, you can do it for him," Midori added, simplifying the explanation even further.

"Unfortunately, I have to leave in a few days. Cyrus demanded I return. A few FATE Mentors quit and they can't be down one just for the sake of two people. You'll be well protected here," Midori explained to her, "but, on the bright side, you'll be trained by a cousin of mine. His name is Minato. He's a bit different than most Hoshi. He's a pacifist, really. Hates violence. But, he's a wavelength prodigy. If he were a Meister, he would fall into the category of Utility. Normally, he would be shunned by the Hoshi, but it's one of those situations where they let it slide because he's just... so damn good." If what he said were flat words on a wall, they might have came across as singing praising. His tone conveyed sarcasm and a type of distaste for Minato. For various reasons, really, not just because he refused to fight.

Minato was his first cousin. He was a man that grew up with the original Midori. He was also one of the ones that tried to convince the elders that Midori as a golem shouldn't be accepted back into the Hoshi. It was never really clarified if that was due to his personal feelings or if it was some higher spiritual understanding as a prodigy, but it didn't matter. Midori and Minato had bad blood, and there was no real reconciling that. Though, that all was a sloppy mess he didn't intend to bring Adra into.

"Any questions?" he asked, trying to make sure she was up to speed. Granted, telling a weapon to learn Wavelength Adjust was honestly absurd. Even if it was a modified version of it, the task was daunting if Adra truly knew what that meant. Though, Zosar was stuck out in the woods trying to catch up on a decade of unique training himself, so it's not like either of them were honestly given realistic goals. "Oh, and you'll need to tell Ichika-san what you want to drink when she comes in with the food. We don't do soda of any kind, but we have water, some flavored waters, teas of all kinds, grape wines, sake, and whiskey," he tacked on, making sure to inform her.

That was important given a woman in an off-white kimono was entering with a platter of bowls and food, this presumably being Ichika.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Daniella Ethalyn - Death City - Streets

​

With the sudden change within the enemy, Nadia found herself suddenly freed of fighting the termite, as that witch bitch gave up her body and soul to birth a Golem, casting about a feeling of heartbreak and grief. Whereas Sara was angered by this and rightly so, Nadia was much more calm and cold.

“So that’s what you chose? Heh. I’ll send your sisters to join you shortly, though one is already waiting.” Nadia had no plans to accept a surrender, while she doubted the witches were behind all of this, they were part of it and all parties that were, deserved only death. There could be no redemption from this. Far too many had died, the DWMA had its reputation ruined, the Magic Embassy we leveled with likely other witches aside. If this did anything to Nadia it was to fill her with indignation.
’Pussed out like a bitch. Figures…’ Dani remarked internally.

And they had the fucking nerve to now be sad when the shoe was on the other foot? As if they had more value than the hundreds if not thousands they helped destroy. Watching as Sara went about getting the creature’s attention, she scoffs. By doing this she had only sealed her doom even more quickly, now that the termites and acid went away, there was nothing to hold her back.

“Dani, we’ve been going for a while. One final action is all I can do. Absorb her soul once we get in.”

’I’ll get it,’ Dani replied with a nod. ’Let’s finish this shit up.’

With that, Nadia rushes off for the back of the best, leaping up into the air as she dug her empowered left hand into the back, stabbing with Dani at a lower portion she then kicked her legs off of an arm the belatedly as Sara’s blows connected with more, forcing it’s attention back on it.

“Got it!” She calls back to Sara with a yell, working her way up the giant as more dirt went to replace what was lost.

’Middle of the chest huh.’ soul forcing her way into the back when it was busy healing it’s arms, Nadia drives Dani in through the thinned back material, even going as far to expose herself to the closing material as she then did another Soul Force, blasting away the material, preventing it from closing once more.

“DANI! DO IT!”

As the blade pierced the inside of the golem and struck at the tiny orb in its center, Dani began to glow as the soul’s essence began to transfer into the sword. The physical body of the orb violently sloshed into the metal, as if being ravenously devoured, until the last of its plume disappeared into the face of the weapon.

“...We’re good. All gone,” Dani announced the end to her meal. “Don’t collapse on me now.”

Laughing at that, Nadia allows the dirt mound to collapse under her. While she would not fully collapse, she did fall back on her ass, letting out an exhale and releasing hold of the weapon, she allowed the water to rush over her, soothing the burns and left over acid that was still on her. Looking at Sara, she holds out her right hand, pointing over to the remaining witch.

“Go! If you can still fight, then do it! I’ll catch up!” Well, she wouldn’t be doing the latter, at least not within the next couple of minutes for sure if not longer, she had not used so many Soul Forces back to back while exchanging wavelengths to empower a resonance. Then there was the building, the previous engagement. No, if anything Nadia was spent for here and now, but she had done her duty, had she not?

A small chuckle escaped the blade as Nadia fell back. “The giant doesn’t wanna fight? I must be dead,” Dani remarked, though as the woman transformed back into her normal shape and put weight on her legs, the pain shooting up her right leg from the previously sustained bullet wound certified that she wasn’t. “Agh, fuck me! No apparently fucking not-” She growled and quickly shifting her weight to her non injured leg whilst hopping on it to retain balance, though she too ended up sitting on the ground.

“I swear to Death if a fucking dragon shows up after this, I’m done.”

“If only it were so easy… Though your leg, I had forgotten, just let me rest for a bit and I’ll tend to it. Did the projectile just graze you or go in? As to wanting to fight, of course I want to fight, but we’ve done too much. In fact if they don’t take out that last Witch, well, we won’t have to worry about you being shot.” She adds in response.

“Yeah, so did I,” Dani remarked, gripping her leg just above the wound. “There’s a hole, so I assume through. No idea if it exited or not…” Tearing a piece of her dress, she remembered at least some of first aid and tied it around her thigh above the bullet hole to mitigate the bleeding, then leaned back against some gravel and rubble. “The fuck-up brigade can’t be the only motherfuckers working. They’ll get the witch… If not, then the DWMA probably had no business surviving the last century.”

“Da.” Soaking wet Nadia gets up from her seating position and goes to take a look at the wound, flopping down. “Fuck. All of my things are back at the park or in the fire station, well, I kept a couple… Let’s just watch.”

“Don’t worry about it… I’ll live,” Dani assured with a sigh, looking over in the direction of the last witch. “...Yeah.”

Sir Les Paul EmperorsChosen Merciless Medic Mook-LandStrider @Peckinou The Regal Rper @Serei2477

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Dall Island​

"Huh?" Stopping her rampage just short, her blade was still out, her eyes bleeding red as power radiated from her body, turning to gaze directly at Raph as her bayonet blade flashed. "How are you..." Piecing it all together as she looked at the spiders and then back to Raph, she glared angrily at the beasts, what they had done still angered her, gnawed at her. Now it was made worse. The plants were not attacking her, those bastards were using her own selfsame magic, or close enough to it to duel with her. As she listed to Raph's response it never dawned on her to use this type of magic for verbal, or rather mana based communication. It was like cup and string. An idea that never occurred to her as it was some childlike in quality.

"We are here for wood from the tree. What is the beast?" Still, more importantly how did they learn to understand them? If anything, these spiders, she was unsure if they would count as denizens and under the same terms as the monster races, or something that was an even greater threat if it ever left. Content with letting Raph do must of the talking, she did correct his use of Slang and simplified the words, putting her own response through the vines, visualizing her intent and purpose. "Truce. No Kill. Speak. Trade."

"What is Beast? We seek small wood from big wood." She says pointing at some broken branches and sticks. It would be problematic if the Spiders worshiped the tree, then again by all rights that tree was more or less a god as far as the island was concerned.

Merciless Medic The Regal Rper Meredith Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Tags: EmperorsChosen

---

not-so SHORT RESPONSE: Dani​

Ashley Diri. A name never uttered over the course of the battle. Interesting, isn't it? The Witch had spent decades on the planet, experienced as much or more as anyone on the battlefield, answered to that name a million times over, yet not once was it said aloud. It was not impossible to find; likely hidden away in some file somewhere. But in this moment, in this freeze frame of the universe, that Witch was being absorbed and integrated into someone that didn't even know her name, let alone the fact they killed her without even an introduction.

They would not know her story. They would not know the Diri as a low-class family in the Witch Realm only given prestige due to their innate ability to build virtually anywhere. The Diri, only respected as architects and laborers. At best, very distant cousins to actual royal houses. They would not know what it meant to be born into a name that fated them into a middle class society that truly never had the chance to climb the social ladder. Even if they had heard her name, though, they truly couldn't have known. The Witch Realm was still a place one could be born into a role and life a thousand years with no opportunity to advance no matter their efforts or desire.

They would not know that Ashley only truly wanted to break that cycle. To have a chance at a life as more than an architectural servant, constructing the quarters for those above and below her, and eventually even married off to a loveless noble so that she could build what they wanted and sire noble children who would never honor the Diri name.

Of course they wouldn't. Ashley was a terrorist. A Rogue Witch. A villain. Her story did not matter because she was just another enemy to fell.

Her soul was crushed. Broken into the very foundation of its spiritual energy inside of Dani. All that the sword could taste from this consumption were the all-too familiar flavors of rage and heartbreak. There was irony in it, in a way. At the end of her life, Ashley was filled with rage no different than he murderous Dani was. Ashley also knew a heartbreak not unlike Dani in those brief minutes as the loss of Izzy hit with the same force as that of the sword's late brother. It might be eerie to walk down the path of consideration and realize just how similar they were in those last minutes.

Beyond that faint flavor was the power of a Witch's Soul. Dani might not have recognized it immediately. The heat of the battle and the exhaustion following it were an intense thing. It was not uncommon to be too distracted to notice it; the same fate befell the flaming scythe her companion wielded as he was consumed by vengeance upon consuming souls. The sword, on the other hand, did not escape it. In the moments after the soul was consumed, its power found its way to the sliver of a Wiccan Soul within Dani and bound itself to it. It was a moment where the most inhuman part of her grew. It was not the clamoring, chaotic sounds of her human soul, but the intrinsically magical part of her that made her a weapon. That part grew exponentially with this soul in an almost euphoric rush that no Corrupted Soul could ever match.

It was a rush. Yet, it was oddly soothing. It was a moment of peace and serenity from her own internal turmoil as that sliver shifted and grew yet was not as boisterous or obnoxious as the rest of her soul. It was a moment where victory could be relished in a unique type of silence rare to the weapon. More than that silence, it was a moment of understanding. Dani had a soul consumed by a hateful rage that never seemed to yield. A rage so loud it only knew to yell and shout. A rage that did not cease. Time had helped her tame that rage--to a degree--but it never truly faded. Chances are, it never really would.

But, the eyes and instinct of a Witch see opportunity where others see torment. That was the gift this soul gave to Dani in that brief moment. Her soul could be torn asunder by her negative emotions, by her rage if she allowed it, but that did not mean all anger was such a danger. Anger could be a powerful fuel, but anger did not have to originate from hate or malice. In that brief moment where she could see her soul through a new lens, there was a simple yet incredibly important epiphany.

That which she had feared so long, the destruction of her own soul from her rage, would only occur if she allowed that rage to be a negative, hateful feeling inside of her. If she gave in to the malice, to the hate, to all those evil ambitions a human can have, then the sound inside her soul would only grow and grow until it popped. Anger that was not hateful, but of a different nature would do her no harm. Anger caused by honor, or to defend others, or to save another. Even if that anger drove her to do harm, it mattered not if that harm was meant to protect another and cause needless suffering.

This was the insight given by the soul of a Witch. Those that understood their magic as instinct now offered that same gift to its new host. Ashley would go on to live inside Dani, in a way, and her offer to this shrine of rage she now called home was an unexplainable understanding about herself and her soul that she lacked for so many years. It was not her rage and anger that Dani needed to control, but the hate and malice that came with it.

Anger could be a tool. Hate, on the other hand, only stood to cause destruction. To feelings, relationships, others, and even oneself.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

An Ode to Dane, the Lost Soul​

Tags: The Regal Rper Merciless Medic RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen

---

April 1st, 2067​

The long sleeved sweater he had been wearing- ripped as arcs of electricity sliced through it and seeped well into muscle fibers. The expulsion of electricity under the cover of sand landed more effectively than Az visibly made it show. His vision was blurred, not by the pain but by sand, but his sixth eye- the one that kept track of Dane's spirit and movement, found him seconds after his field of view vanished.

The pain however was not something he could ignore. Initially intending to follow after, the electricity slowed his movement down by a few seconds. In that time, he caught a sense that Wulf's tempo was no longer drumming as heavily as it was before, nor as energetically in sound. That shift alone clued him in on the fact his ally was no longer at full steam as he had been seconds ago. This battle of attrition would not do them any favors.

Contrary to that, the attrition weighed on the mad weapon as well. He was beginning to grow desperate as the clashes and use of Lightning Rope burdened him. His movements were starting to hitch and he could feel it. This only propelled his anger further, and like a cornered animal, he lashed out at Az, moving from a dodge to strike from the side flank aiming for a direct hit to the head. He was the largest threat speedwise, after all, and likely not as durable as Starwulf. However Dane's actions in this case were less strategic nor in an attempt to increase his chances, but rather appeared spiteful in nature.

The attack was obvious, and its direction made Az’s next movement easy. All he had to do was give in to the screaming in his legs- and he ducked- collapsed technically, but did so in a roll forwards, slamming his palm on the ground as he did the roll in the process to arrest his turn- but that palm hitting the ground didn’t just send a small puff of sand- it created a large cloud of it as he flared his wavelength from the Soul Menace energy that excited the sand. What Dane had done earlier, Az now copied- the dust cloud rose and Az, already back to his feet- used it to his advantage. Where neither one truly needed their eyes to see and could rely on sense, Az followed the sound of Dane’s soul-- slashing forwards with Reiko who remained in Demon Slaying Blade form as he reached a range he deemed good to strike.

The sand was irritating, but considering Az's soul was so obnoxious, he wasn't hard to track through it. The blind rage and desperation allowed him to stubbornly push past the fatigue in his own body, a feverish energy pulsing through his veins, even if his movements were more sluggish and sloppy, all he needed was a single slip--

--There!

Instead of pulling away from the swing as he felt its encroachment, Dane lunged forward-- the deadly hiss of Reiko’s Demon Blade slicing through the very air near him, there was a line of pain as the energy itself sliced a shallow cut on along his leg, but Dane ignored it as all of his focus went towards looking for an opening- Wulf was still out there- he’d only get one shot.

Go for the head, take one out, or at least take one with him.

His madness reacted to this thought- briefly subdued by Reiko’s Anti-Demon- it roared to life like a chemical reaction spurned by his fury. His desperation, invigoration. His expression a rictus grin and his eyes wide with murderous glee-- the sluggishness faded, the exhaustion in him burned away as his wavelength sparked to life--

They said Madness was a weakness, but in this moment, Dane felt nothing but power. This was the moment he relished when he had been an Agent, that rush before the killing blow towards those who so desperately deserved it- those who required death to make things right in the world- he was so close- to achieving that here- kill or maim the Meister- and then it would just be him and one other.

And then he felt it as he readied his hand to retaliate-- contempt, the disgust, radiating off his opponent.

It wasn’t a feeling, it was almost psychic, the look in Az’s eyes as they both reacted.

He struck out and just when it seemed like he had achieved success- Az knocked the attack off course as he unexpectedly twisted Reiko’s spear over his left shoulder, grabbing just underneath the blade with his rising left hand in a tight formation and moving Demon Slaying Blade in Dane’s path to guide it off course as he leaned in the opposite direction with a forceful push.

Starwulf had been surprisingly quiet for the duration of this exchange. There was a reason. Not only was Az doing a splendid job with his maneuvers, but Dane was clearly tiring out. More importantly, he was getting sloppy and not paying attention. It wouldn’t be long before an opening would present itself.

The Meister telegraphed his moves with his Wolf Fist already present. As the exchange went on, he was fairly certain that he wasn’t about to land that attack without complicating matters. This introduced one of the fundamental flaws with the Wolf Fist. Once channeled, it had to be used or it would backfire onto himself. The clock was ticking.

If an opportunity wouldn’t present itself, he would just have to make one. When all else fails, try something stupid and reckless.

Starwulf darted forward only to use a move he had earlier deemed too dangerous: Speed☆Star. Gone in a flash and reappearing only a few feet away from Dane at a speed the weapon had no hopes of matching without Lightning Rope, Starwulf allowed himself to entirely collide with Dane, pushing him into the direction of the Demon Slaying Blade and more importantly, giving him a chance to fighting grab hold of him with his Wolf Fist.

This was risky. If Az wasn’t careful, he could stab right through and into Starwulf. Not only that, Starwulf with this collision was going to get hit by some backlash from the Wolf Fist. While the lightning fangs it created sparked off his hand and into Dane under his ribcage, they also shot through him so violently that they arced back to Starwulf. While Dane was now easily feeling one of the most painful shocks and even rejections of his life, Starwulf was given some of that same feeling from the feedback, and worse, Fia would be getting it all by proxy.

Az struck immediately- the second Wulf made his attack land, in turn locking Dane in place, he acted immediately- switching from deflecting, to stabbing. Reiko’s blade went straight through Dane’s chest in a sudden shove that stopped immediately and then, without remorse, slid diagonal, in a clean cut out of Dane’s side.

Just a little more. Dane kept repeating to himself to continue. A little more and he could take Az out. He just had to stay on him, to persevere past every block, dodge and parry. Stay close and deliver a point blank blast to fry him.

However, this attempt, while all in the span of a few seconds, had already taken much too long. Dane felt an impact from his flank, pushing him forward. His head turned slightly to glare at Starwulf who was tackling him, as if appalled by the audacity of the meister to grab him. Then the electricity reverberated through him. His jaw locked, gritting his teeth together as his body tensed up instinctively. He hardly had time to force his gaze to meet Az's and notice the glaive about to run him through.

He couldn't move or dodge, and compounding on the shock, he felt the blade pierce his body and gouge it. Dane tasted iron as blood pooled in his mouth. It gave him a burst of adrenaline, but at the same time his body hardly obeyed commands, as if moving in slow motion in a dream.

"Wretched… wretched…" He murmured through weak gasps, stumbling forward slightly. "...little more… Just a little more… and I…"

Trailing off the Death Scythe's knees gave out and he dropped, staring off in the direction of LA before the rest of his body went limp. Life faded from his body as quickly as blood poured from the open gash in his abdomen. The sentence had been carried out. Now only his Corrupted Soul remained, having left his body and hovering over it. Red and gnarled, the soul itself flickered like a viscous flame with sparks of electricity sometimes jolting out of its very edges.

”Reiko, Fia, decide amongst yourselves whom will consume his soul,” Starwulf instructed them. The corpse of their fallen foe was now limp in his arms, and he pulled it onto his knees after kneeling down to catch it. He held the body gently, disregarding the blood that would surely stain him.

”“Lo, there do I see my father.
Lo, there do I see my mother,
And my sisters, and my brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people,
Back to the beginning…

Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them,
In the halls of Valhalla
Where the brave may live forever...”​

Starwulf recited these lines, an old ritual of the Norse. A call to the valkyries. He knew one of the weapons here would consume that soul, but regardless, he prayed for it. There was no greater honor for a warrior than to feast beside Odin in the halls of Valhalla. It was not truly the way of the Amazing Star Dojo, but it was his way.

His dark eyes peered up to Az and Reiko with a stern, piercing gaze. He knew Fia would not fight him on this as she knew the futility, but he was uncertain of what Reiko with her customs or Az with his foreign beliefs would wish to do. He wouldn’t budge on his intention, though, even if he had to walk back to Death City alone.

”I will carry his body back to the DWMA. He will receive a proper burial,” Starwulf told them, explaining how he had no intention of leaving Dane behind. ”He may have fallen to corruption, but he was a warrior in arms for decades before that. He deserves recognition for that, not damnation for the last day of his life,” Starwulf explained, sharing his opinion when it came to the honor code of the warrior.

“I would prefer it that way.” Was Az’s genuine reply. Though even as he said it, he stared only at Dane’s body.

It was always sad hunting another soul down. One of their own or not, even if there had been some contempt at the state Dane had fallen to- he still could not help but feel that sense of mental exhaustion- not so much from the fight but at what had been lost for it to happen at all.

“If it is fine with you, I will accompany you.” Though, from how he said it, it didn’t entirely sound like he was asking permission either, even if it had been politely said.

That energy that had practically backfired from Starwulf into Fia had broken her hold on the chain resonance to focus on fighting the rejection. It hurt like hell, but she managed to hold on to a sliver. When it was all said and done, she transformed back to normal as the sand settled. She knew Starwulf’s honor. It was the very thing that she admired. Did she agree with it completely? Not all the time. She did agree this time, and that lingering sense of agreement was there in his actions of Dane’s body before she transformed back. Staring at the soul, she sighed, glancing up at Rieko before looking back at the soul. “I’ve been sitting at that desk job for a while until fairly recently. Apologies, but I would like to get back into the swing of things again, even if it’s just a little bit.” Before she absorbed the soul, she looked back at Starwulf. “While I would condemn a person for repeated actions that sully the memory of their past, I won’t do so posthumously. I do agree we should honor what he’s done while he was still with us. It’s a shame his path led him to his demise.” She paused and looked at Rieko, agreeing with what she said before they traveled here. “And we should find ways to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

With that, she took the soul and absorbed it as an honoring Demon Weapon should. Of all the methods a Weapon could consume a soul, there was only really one that was accepted as an honorable method of integrating a soul. Cradling it with both hands, Fia would extend her wavelength through her arms and into the very palms of her hands, using that to forge a connection with the corrupted soul. Her eyes closed and adding an extra minute or so to the overall process, this method was slower than others as the soul trickled into her spiritual network instead of being integrated all at once with regular consumption.

The end result was a brief period of time where the most vivid memories that Dane had of his life, his strongest feelings and motivations, were shown to Fia like a highlight reel of his life from his perspective. What Starwulf said held true here. He wasn’t just the man that turned corrupt. She saw firsthand his rise through the ranks, the friends he had in the beginning, the good times he had on missions. Dane had plenty of wonderful memories as an Agent. It wasn’t until the last few years of his life where he was consumed by the pressure to do better, to compete with others, to maintain his rank. The insecurity and loneliness he felt–that was recent.

All the same, he became part of her. Just like every soul before him.

”I would be just as happy to carry his body back to the DWMA–in a helicopter,” Starwulf said, quickly clarifying what he meant. He expected more pushback about wanting to return the body of Dane. Many, many agents had a severe disgust for the Mad, and hauling the body of one that became Corrupted would likely be some offense to them. What he meant was that if they objected, he would have carried it back regardless.

If they were fine with it, to Hell with carrying a corpse through the desert heat.

”So, unless Reiko objects or has some ceremony of her own to perform, I say someone flags the helicopter and we get back to Death City,” he suggested, both in making sure Reiko had her chance to chime in and that they could, in fact, just fly home.

“Hmm…” Shifting from her weapon form as she watched the rest, Reiko said nothing for awhile, letting the rest play out their own means of care. At mention of the soul, she motions for Fia to do what, well, what she had. Still a bit of this did not sit right with her, still, it was what it was. “I find myself wondering what brought him to this point, if it were so simple and how many lives he claimed on the way here. Still before we move him, I’ll do the rite of purification. It is the least he deserves for service till now. Call for the Helicopter, it will take me at least that long to finish the initial steps.”

Reaching behind her back, she did have a small traveling canteen of water, it would have to do, in part, with the steps of her own religion; it would be a time consuming process with 20 steps from death to burial. And he was not Japanese. Pouring a little of the water over his lips, she then spreads a little over herself, sprinkling it and then the remainder from a cupped hand, scattering it over the body of Dane.

“Ten no takai heimen ni iru musuu no rei, teikoku no sosen no meirei de-” A somewhat lengthy prayer was carried out in her native Japanese as she scattered the water bit by bit. This process would normally call for more, but this would have to do. Finally having said what she needed, she the looked at the rest, some words were changed, more for the Souls Dane had taken in his madness, than for the man himself it seemed.

“I will carry out a ritual myself at a later time. I’m afraid Shintoism is a bit longer, and we would burn his body when all is said and done.”

Az nodded. “Understood. Then with no further ado,” he pulled out a flare gun, aimed and fired it. The light went soaring into the air- and then the distant sound of an approaching chopper signaled their transportation’s approach.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Closing Line of a Terrible Show​

Tags: The Regal Rper Merciless Medic @Peckinou RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Meredith Mook-LandStrider

---

April 1st, 2067​

Slash, move, roll, slash, move roll… the cycle continued as Annika did her best to keep moving as the hoard of bees came at her. Starting to sweat she had worked herself into quite the situation and it didn’t show much sign of slowing down. It was then that Davis came in to assist her and while she was enjoying herself she wouldn’t turn down a helping hand given that the bees just kept coming.

“Hello again.” Annika said, the cloak having been slightly torn up in the past minute. She felt her fervor rising just before a wall of flame torched the swarm of bees. Relief washed over her as she watched the creations flip and flop around on the ground as they tried to orient themselves. Looking at Gauss she smiled “I appreciate the assistance, that was getting abit goofy. A good workout though.” She commented. Turning her attention to Davis she glanced up at the bee witch.

With the chaos of her direct surroundings having calmed significantly she set about rending the rest of the downed bees. The cool down was exactly what she needed, about a minute of rest before she knew everything would pick up again. “Alright, let's flank and split her attention. If you go left I will use what's left of the cloak as a means to at least somewhat conceal my position. We could also have Elly lob some grenades at her beforehand. A three phase assault should have at least one of our attacks break her defenses. She is already down one arm.” Annika finished, swinging her arms back and forth to help keep them from getting stiff. “I am going to need a long soak in a bath after this.” Annika mumbled.

”Watch yourself, miss. I accomplished plenty with just one arm,” Davis responded with an uncharacteristic joke. As if to emphasize the point, he extended his left arm and rolled his fingers with surprising finesse for a prosthetic, demonstrating the dark gray-blue plates that created the semigloss outer layer of his magitech arm.

Davis surged his wavelength through his body. Despite his time out of the field, it was still quite powerful. In her time training with Starwulf, Annika now had the clarity to see that it was power without efficiency. Davis may have had a surprising amount of horsepower for a lab jockey, but he had quite the small tank to use it with.

”I’ll make the first move,” Davis told her, ”besides, I want to test some features on my arm.” With that, the man darted off, demonstrating yet again an impressive burst of speed. Compared to her mentor, Starwulf, Davis definitely came up short, but his physical prowess still outclassed most of the agents she knew as companions.

Watching Davis was unlike watching a normal Meister. He propelled himself not just in the direction of Pinia, but used his grenade launcher to wedge a grenade between one of the Firehouse doors that had been ripped off and the ground, sending it flying and creating a platform for him to jump onto. Following that, the plasma sabre in his right hand only acted as a distraction for Pinia.

He swung at her, she dodged. That swing wasn’t the actual attack he intended on landing. Instead, upon passing her body, he thrust out his left arm and from it launched his entire forearm, propelled independently with its own small thrusters. Davis may have fallen powerlessly to the ground, swatting at the bees that surrounded him, but Pinia was now punched in the chest by his arm, and it latched onto her after, trying to drive her down into the ground with its thrust.

She tried to counter it first by grabbing onto it, failing miserably before trying to envelop it in a ball of wind, resulting in her haphazardly flying through the air as she couldn’t control her flight and fight off his hand at the same time. This problem only became worse as the flamethrower on his arm lifted up to try and scorch her remotely, only for her to redirect the flames via a barrier of wind.

Now, he could detonate his arm and kill her now, but that would mean building another. Davis didn’t treat that piece of tech like it was disposable, so he intended to give that glory to someone else.

”Eloise,” he said, intending to grab her attention. By this time, he had landed safely and made his way to her. Stealing an idea from someone from the other battlefield, he knew precisely how to make sure Annika had a stairway to their target. ”I’m going to bust open every fire hydrant I can. Once they send a jet of water into the air, you freeze it with a grenade,” he instructed her.

With that, he did exactly what he described. With his few remaining grenades, he destroyed two hydrants on the furthest side of the street they were away from and used his sabre to cut open another on their side, causing them to launch huge pillars of water into the air with explosive force. Pinia meanwhile had found a workaround for her flight issue, stabilizing herself with a cushion of her bees, but that didn’t provide her a way to get rid of the hand that was propelling itself into her now-bruised chest. If the situation weren’t so dire, she might have had a crude quip about how copping a feel this way was the worst way to go about it, but she had a dozen worse things to consider at this time.

Looking to Davis as he landed, she had the defunct Sage slung around her back and held to her person with some torn cloth whilst reloading. She could hazard a guess as to what he was up to. “Sound enough. You did give me the toy, so the least I can do is shoot at what you ask me to,” Elly chimed back and did as instructed. Loading in the cryo-grenades, she waited for Davis to pop the hydrants and then fired a grenade at each stream as it shot upward.

The streams immediately froze solid upon the grenade exploding, traveling down the length of the stream and even freezing the surrounding area around each hydrant. While slick and cold, each one was incredibly solid, though the sound of ice droplets raining down on the surrounding area echoed around each hydrant as a good majority of the water was haphazardly shot outward upon being frozen.

Annika had remained where she was as the events began to unfold around her. She watched as Davis engaged and Elly got involved. Hopping up and down in place she prepared herself to act the moment an opportunity presented itself. Internally her mind screamed as she worked herself up into a frenzy. Arm moving up she undid the cloak and let it fall to the ground. She wanted the witch to witness her end coming. Annika was all for a sudden attack, she had taken the woman's arm that way. But if this was to be where Pinia was killed, it would be out in the open and in her face.

Seeing the setup being put into place she waited until the bee witch was distracted and took off with a surprising burst of speed. Taking one of the concussive grenades she still carried out she pulled the pin and began to move towards the frozen water. Holding the grenade in her fingers as she gripped her right chainblade she began to move up the frozen stream. Feet slamming into the ice each footfall caused a crack that began to splinter out, weakening the ice as she continued to move onwards and upwards.

Feeling the ice begin to sway she pitched the grenade out with her right hand, the spoon shot off and it homed in on its target like a baseball thrown by a major league pitcher. Where these grenades had a timed fuse this one seemed to detonate on impact, having been thrown by Annika with a strength reserved for a select few. Watching as the grenade shredded Pinia’s cushion of bees she timed her lunge.

Watching as Pinia spun out of control before being thrust down by Davis’ arm, Annika continued upwards before taking two hard steps and leaping towards the falling witch. Intercepting the Witch as she plummeted, Annika shifted her momentum to orient herself so that she was on top of Pinia. Staring down at the woman as they fell Annika stared into Pinia’s eyes, the rage within blatantly evident. “Hello Cousin, I would like you to tell my mother I am coming but you will never get the chance.”

The impact on the ground was loud, like a person spreading eagle jumping into a calm surface of water. The impact rocked Annika but luckily the witch under her all but cushioned the fall. Rolling her upper body backwards she arched her back before raising both weapons above her head and driving them into the witches chest, narrowly avoiding Davis’ arm with her first plunge.. As they descended she gunned the engines of both. The impaling was visceral to say the least. Where the earlier cut was clean the damaged teeth of the blades now made for a hellish sight as they caught and sputtered with the organic matter beginning to coat and clog the mechanisms.

Davis took this as his cue to withdraw his arm, having it return to him and primarily not keen on allowing it to be damaged.

Feeling the mass below her dissipating she finally stopped gunning the engines and relented, the rage within her starting to disperse as she realized she had killed her mark. “The deed is done.” She mumbled out, her front side completely coated red. Sitting on the ground for a few moments as she gathered herself she finally got up using one of the now damaged weapons as a brace. Moving them to her sides she clicked a part of the side causing the two weapons to magnetically lock to the belt she had around her waist.

Grabbing the soul she held it in her hand. She had deeply wished she could consume it much like weapons can. She would feel no greater pride than to know the being of an enemy was empowering her through consumption. Yet, she couldn’t and so came her deciding what to do with it. Her mind considered squeezing it into oblivion but she wasn’t entirely sure that would actually work. In the end she decided it was best to give to one of the other pairs around her, those that had contributed to their success. She thought of giving it to Elly but her weapon partner hadn’t come into play the whole fight.

Gazing around she locked her eyes onto the werewolf girl with the lantern flail. Looking back to the soul she almost wished she could keep it. The last visages of her rage had disappeared and she felt the soul could make a wonderful trophy. Despite the desire to keep it she knew it would be pointless. “Werewolf girl, I think you and your partner could use this far better than I ever could. Consume it, I want to see this destroyed and actually provide some level of benefit rather than the destruction it once knew.”

Sara, after determining Nadia and Dani were okay, had run back to see the carnage of the bee witch was already during its last legs. Annika had finished turning the witch into shark chum, and was holding the soul. With bright eyes, Sara looked at her weapon with excitement, speaking aloud. “Really? That’s awesome! Come on, Eva, let’s get you a level up!” Excitedly hopping over, she outstretched her arm for Eva to transform back and consume it, her smile gracious as she nodded towards Annika. “Thank you for allowing us to have this.” In the meantime, Sara looked around at the others who participated, hoping they were all relatively okay.

Transforming out of her weapon form Eva let out a slight grunt of pain, no longer being pretty much invulnerable. Her shoulder was a little worse for wear than she would admit but that took second seat to what she was being extended. Taking the soul Eva couldn’t help but smile a bit. The whole scenario had been a hellish experience for her. She had fought back the desire to run, having struggled against even one witch… dealing with three was something she hadn’t expected to get through.

Annika nodded and began to try to brush off some of the bits that had stuck onto her. “Disgusting.” She grunted. “I am glad you two will get some use out of it. Enjoy it, but uhhh… what does it taste like?” Annika asked, turning around again after having walked away a few paces.

Looking down at it Eva wasn't entirely sure, she hadn’t ever consumed a witch soul. She felt a sudden desire to gobble it down as revenge for derailing her life. Tossing it into her mouth she chewed it a few times before trying to talk with her mouth full. “Mmpphhh Tast-mph,” she exclaimed before swallowing it down. Covering her mouth for a second she looked at Annika “Uhmm… like super rubbery flan.”

Despite the irreverent description of the soul provided, it was powerful nonetheless. Dangerous nonetheless. Pinia was perhaps the most powerful of the three Witches at the district, and easily the one most affected by the Pull. It would be no wonder then that Eva would learn first hand what power that soul truly had even more intensely than the others that consumed one that day.

Once her soul had encapsulated Pinia’s and broken it down into its bare and naked form, Eva would not merely feel an influx of faint memories and emotions. What she saw were flashes of a life she never lived. What she saw were the distinct and detailed memories in quick succession that came to define the Witch she now bore inside of her.

Pinia was from a noble family, unlike the others. Her blood was royal, albeit diluted. House Apini was a massive house with a large sum of influence, but suffering from what the majority of Witch Society considered cursed blood. In their family, women were only born one in one thousand. Given that male Witches were so weak and useless, virtually all Apini men were rejected from their royal heritage and sent to other lands. The Apini had no qualms with selling their own kind to others, using them as trade collateral for the many Witches that opted not to bear many children and subsequently often had diluted lines of magic in their peasantry. These men were little more than slaves, indentured servants, and their docile nature only made it all the easier to preserve that structure.

Pinia at one time had a pleasant childhood. Despite how she appeared, she was well over a century old. Her earliest memories within house Apini were their adulation and pampering. A female Witch in their line always had promise. Those were the good times. Treated like a princess, and friends with those others her age and stature.

Those times faded quickly. Despite the power she demonstrated in that fight, Pinia apparently was regarded as incredibly weak for her bloodline. She was mocked. The very friends she grew up with, danced with, ran through the fields and fields of flowers in their luscious lands with on warm summer days… they forsook her. Pinia was leagues below the others as they matured. Worse, she was one of two from her parents, and her older sister, Melia, was a gifted child. That only made the disappointment worse.

Memories flew by for Eva. It was not as if she was truly living the entire life of Pinia, only getting a glimpse into the life of the soul she consumed. Disappointment was a common theme in her life. Despite her noble heritage, even nobility below her rank elected not to consider her as a marriage candidate. Even if only for political ties, Pinia was so far below the bar that it was nigh-impossible. Decades went on like this, and her family finally presented her with their solution: she would marry into the middle class of another family line in return for swathes of land.

That was the breaking point for Pinia. Unlike the others, her rage and despair came from being unable to marry. Unable to fit in. A lifetime of mockery. A lifetime of not adding up. Her family effectively disowned her, opting to remove her from the royal line. That is why she fled. That is why she turned to the human realm. That is why she became a rogue witch. Her family didn’t even want her, so why should she stay?

Her time in the human realm was truly bittersweet, however. Her family line was the one known for the pheromone magic. It was how they kept much of their predominantly male population at bay. They need not make chains with slaves when biology did it for them. It was also why the Apini line was so valuable: keeping the peasantry complacent. It made her life in the human world easy.

In the beginning, she was a different woman than who she was now. Truth was, she had lived a whole life in the human realm before turning into the person she was now. She had her way with men until one stole her heart. It was odd, knowing her face had neary a wrinkle and barely looked older than Eva herself, but Pinia was even a mother of three sons. She had watched them grow up and leave off. She had watched her husband wither away over time. At the very least, he accepted her for who she was.

She lived a simple life once, and it came to an end. She couldn’t bring herself to do it again. She had a dozen opportunities her companions didn’t. She felt the heartbreak of outliving her loved ones. That is what Eva felt. That is what Eva came to know turned Pinia to the path she was on. Pinia sought out adventure and thrills, stumbling eventually into the wrong crowd of rogue Witches, and finding her excitement in dabbling with the Pull. She was never really powerful in the Witch Realm nor as a mother did she ever need it, but now? It was ecstasy.

More importantly, it distracted her from all that she lost.

The memories flew by faster and faster. The crimes started small and minor, but escalated to atrocities. Pinia truly did become a monster. Fact was, Pinia didn’t even recognize herself. That was a battle she fought for the last decade of her life. Recruiting Ashley and Izzy into the fray was just another distraction from the fact she now disappointed herself as much as she did her family.

And now? Now her final memory, the capstone of her life, was a Meister that dared call her cousin. The very spark of her life ended with a reminder of the family she disappointed.

Meanwhile, this more visceral reaction for Eva, this more intense reaction, was not simply due to Pinia being more powerful. Perhaps that was some small factor in it. The reality of it was that the gnarled soul of Eva was hardly accepting of the Witch’s Soul. Though only a sliver of her own soul was Wiccan in nature, it was that part that was damaged so many years ago. As the spiritual remnants of Eva’s soul tried to empower her, she was forced through a unique type of rejection.

Her body would ache and pain later, her soul required rest, but for now, the memories she felt flooding her were the direct result of how slow her body was to accept the newfound power she was gaining.

Once pulled from the memories, returning to the world she was just in only a moment after being asked of the taste of the soul, cold sweats would pour over her. A mild fever. Anxiety boiled up inside her chest like a tiger ready to pounce. Any noise above a whisper would become like torture. Confusion and paranoia, if only briefly, would settle in.

She did gain some type of innate knowledge of herself. Of her soul. But, it was fractured. Incomplete. That gnarled part of her soul, that scar that never healed, it was part of her now. An understanding came to her that it was not a curse. But, a strength. That somehow that chaotic part of her soul that seemed to limit her abilities and only weaken her could be used as a source of strength. That even if it was only a part of her, it was a part that she should not shun.

Yet as if floating away on a distant coast just out of reach was the beacon of light she knew she was. The secrets to her lantern, why her very light attracted and calmed spirits and apparitions. Her soul still held more secrets, but those would not be revealed. A dreadful, terrible reality sank in. To uncover those secrets, she would need to consume another Wiccan soul.

An experience, that was what Eva could call it. She had never felt something like that before, it was incredible. After what to her felt like a tremendously long time she realized only brief moments had passed. Her mind screamed, every noise felt like fingernails on a chalkboard. The closest feeling she could equate it to was one of the few times she had gotten a horrible hangover. She looked up to Annika, her eyes starting to turn bloodshot. Taking a step back she looked to Sara, confusion evident in her eyes.

After a few moments Eva let out a small whimper and suddenly transformed back into her weapon form. Clattering to the floor she seemed to go entirely quiet. It felt like part of her was coming to the forefront only to be quickly shoved back down into the depths of herself. The whole experience was uncomfortable, she had seen too much into the being she devoured and it made her… uncomfortable.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Project

F.A.T.E.

Phase

Three

"We are all dealt a hand at birth.
A good hand can ultimately lose -
just as a poor hand can win -
but we must all play the cards the fate deals.
The choices we face may not be the choices we want,
but they are choices nonetheless."
— Brigid Kemmerer, A Curse So Dark and Lonely​

THE AFTERMATH

In The Wake of a Twisted Joke

With the Witches slain, the majority of the threats in Death City were eliminated. Follow the battle in the Fire District, Davis was able to continue throughout the city and regain control over the handful of golems that were still hacked and any remaining dolls were scarce. The battle for the DWMA not long after took a turn as reinforcements trickled in. Three-Star Agents and reserves alike stepped up to help the cause. What occurred in Death City was only a large scale distraction with the pure intention of causing mass hysteria while the DWMA itself was under siege. The success of the Fate Agents and their quick intervention aided more than perhaps they even realized. With the people safe, efforts on combating the forces in the DWMA proper would receive the focus they so desperately needed.

It would be impossible to truly hide what happened within the DWMA. The Wiccan Embassy was destroyed in its entirety. Similar attacks were made on Davis' Laboratories, but were hardly as destructive due to countermeasures Davis had implemented. The hospitals were wrecked, training fields decimated, and the white-stone courtyard in front of the DWMA was half-destroyed due to the battles that occurred. Not to mention, other less destructive events, such as various prisoners from the underground DWMA Prison were released, the first door to the Death Vault was broken through, and the information leaked here both digital and archived was likely immeasurable.

An event like this had not been seen since the likes of Shaula Gorgon, and even then it was nowhere near as successful.

It was not merely one force that laid siege to the DWMA. While the dolls and Witches were the primary forces for Death City, the DWMA itself had even more diverse and dangerous enemies. This information could hardly be suppressed within the walls of the DWMA after. Perhaps the most disturbing of all were a set of Witches that cast a spell to tear the sky asunder. Moonlight shone down on the DWMA in the middle of the day, and with it, awakened a small army of Maddened Lunatics. While far fewer in number than the dolls, each were considerably more dangerous. Worse off, Corrupted Beings long-thought to be killed and consumed were conjured. These beings were entirely mad with no discernment of friend from foe. While they did not attack each other, they would tear through the few remaining agents and the Lunatics alike.

If Lunatics and previously slain Corrupted Souls were not enough, the majority of the subterfuge was carried out by a combination of Magitech weaponry and Fae magic. Magitech creations that Davis himself did not creative, only confirming that its development was occurring out there in the world. And, the Fae? They were their whole own problem. Their magic was unlike anything used by Witches and wholly incompatible, but they were rare. The few that were seen often acted alone, but this was a group of them in concert. The likes of that had not been seen for centuries.

The DWMA and their ability to control the media might have helped prevent the entire country from going into a panic, but it could not prevent the whispers and rumors that would permeate agents and students of all classes and experience. Some say the DWMA fought flaming skeletons, some claimed dragons had returned from centuries past, some stories were wild beyond imagination. Separating fact from fiction would be next to impossible. Still, these rumors had their influence.

Despite the circulation of these rumors, the days following the event were not complete gloom. There was a focus on the return to the norm. Agents directly involved in the onslaught were given downtime, but those that could train would be enlisted for some some of the relief efforts for Death City. Quick soup kitchens, clearing out rubble, getting roads at least ready for reconstruction to begin. With this particular attack, there was little need for triage or rescue searches at the least, but bouncing back from this attack was not a simple endeavor. In just a day, the DWMA went from scarce on resources and agents to an overabundance of them assisting in any way they could.

Those first few days were crucial. The DWMA enlisted PR teams, instructing agents and involved parties alike on what to say and when. Witches and Monsters alike were also encouraged to help with the rebuilding process of both the DWMA and Death City, pushing the agenda that these former enemies were not the perpetrators by trying to portray them as sympathetic to those involved in the attack. Donations came pouring in and national TV syndicates were allowed to see the involvement of these diverse species helping mankind on a scale that had yet to be pushed. Even after an event like this, the DWMA tried to get as much out of it as they could.

In all honesty, they needed to.

Morale amongst agents was nearly split down the middle of those that questioned how the DWMA could let this happen and those that saw how the DWMA worked fervently to push its agenda of acceptance in even these bleak times. Debates were common, questioning if DWMA leadership and security was truly incompetent. Counterarguments were made that no city in the world could have defended against an attack like that. Magic they had never seen before, creatures like the Dolls, beings like the Lunatics, the Fae involvement, Corrupted Souls from yesteryear... how was it possible to predict and plan for that?

It wasn't.

But, that didn't matter. Detractors from the DWMA took to news stations pointing out how the DWMA could hardly defend itself, let alone the world. Supporters made the same counter arguments the agents themselves made. There was no clear correct answer.

For the Fate Agents, the only clear reality for them was that Cyrus, the man that lead their program, was incredibly proud of them. Days after the first, he pulled most of them together to tell them that their performance in the attack saved countless thousands of lives, and that their quick thinking and immediate leap to defending the city likely wasn't something that whoever orchestrated the attack accounted for. Even if they were only protected in part due to the inhibitors or a rare few abilities, they were living proof that the system worked. Their collars were not chains, but shields. The abilities of those that could resist the initial paralysis spell proved how valuable they were. Their willingness to go into the fray and in many cases get hurt to defend others... that was what it meant to be an agent.

Cyrus could be a stern, even cruel man, and even he questioned the value of the Fate Program. On that day, he swallowed his pride and admitted to them that on some level he was wrong. They were valuable. They were powerful. They were important. They did not see that cold slicing stare, but instead the analytical eyes of a man that now appreciated their worth. They had proven themselves. He confirmed he wasn't the only one that felt that way, either. The people behind the scenes were now willing to allow more money to fund the project and more allowances for the Fate Agents that had proven themselves. Changes were coming, for the better. He promised them.

Davis took a personal interest in Annika and though she would stay under Starwulf, she would be given supervised clearance to the Labs.

Nadia with Dani was shaping up to be a formidable pair, proving that they could overcome their personal feelings to work for the greater good.

Sara and Eva proved that they could withstand the heat of battle, and do more than be a pair trying to brute force their way through all solutions.

Adrian... Adrian did not get off so lucky. Falling prey to Madness and coming back from it was something of note, but it only made him more dangerous in the eyes of many. Especially with how Dane just fell to Madness. Still, he was able to fight it off for a second time.

Elly was given credit for just not running away. Many believed that's precisely what she would do in a situation like this.

While Gauss was questioned for his use of drugs, his performance was undeniable. Arky was a powerful asset in the right hands and his bond to Noah as opposed to Gauss was considered a good thing. The fact Noah now had a greater control over his wavelength was noted heavily with Davis as a firsthand witness.

Sage was still hospitalized, in fairly rough shape.

What would come for the agents around the corner and these changes was still uncertain, but there did exist a shift in how they were perceived and treated. It wasn't perfect. They hadn't earned their stars, but they most certainly weren't perceived as rabid dogs. They were praised. For the first time since they entered the program, F.A.T.E. had hope to it. There was a pathway to success. A road to redemption. Regardless of the voices on the news debating over the DWMA and the Agents around them that questioned it, one thing held true: the Fate Agents were a success. Many of their detractors fell silent after April 1st.

Sunday, April 10th, 2067​

BROTHERS IN ARMS

A Festivity for More than Family

Approximately a week after the attack on April 1st, no new missions were created just yet outside of a select few situations. While some training had resumed, many others were focused on healing and recuperating. That, or they were assisting with the efforts to get the city and DWMA back to its former status. Aside from the speech from Cyrus, no new information had been given to them yet. They were simply told that there was a lot to do in the wake of the attack. And, by how many were still volunteering to help the city bounce back, that echoed as true with them.

Many of the Agents were contacted individually with new prospects. Annika was given her ID badge to Davis Labs and enlisted to help there. Sara was given contact with Chanterelle about a potential avenue to further both of their growth. Nadia was approached about a potential team leader position; told that if she took it. One indirect benefit being that taking such a position would separate her from Gauss, as he was offered the same. Adrian started down the long road of Calm Mind training. Elly was told she would be given a new partner in the form of Midori. A name she would know as a mentor, although otherwise not terribly well.

Even the Mages found ways to assist. The trio of Maria, Raph, and Ark made for an extremely effective set of mages to help clear rubble, clear out destruction, and remove the largest of debris. Many of the Witches joined in, extending even to that of Maria's Mentor and Raphael's father, all chipping in where they could to help the city. Witches even stepped out of the Witch Realm to help rebuild the embassy and offer assistance to the DWMA in an act of good faith on a scale that had never before been seen between the DWMA and Wiccan Council.

Amidst all this rebuilding and restructuring, there was one agent of note. V, the older brother of Gauss, reached out to the vast majority of Fate Agents involved and even some note--such as the Mage Group under Rand--to invite them to a get-together he and a few of his companions were hosting. V was little like his brother. Calm, more reserved, polite, stoic even, and while he shared the same confidence as his brother, it was much more tolerable. One-by-one and in personal meetings, he would ask them to join.

He would explain it was something he and a few others not involved with the program wanted to do to ease tensions. That the drinks and food would be free. They had secured a dance club for the evening into the night that would host this, keeping it private. The Duchess of Discord, it was called. Not an extraordinary place; the type of place Gauss probably visited a few times in his life, but nothing special about it to the DWMA or Agents. That, in a way, made it a perfect venue for this. More so, he promised it would be toned down from its normal neon-lit, energetic atmosphere intended to dance and instead have plenty of space for people to group up apart from each other if they wanted. Most importantly, to those closest to his brother, he assured them that there, they would meet someone willing to give them some insight as to the upcoming changes to their program.

The event would start at 6PM on Sunday, an important date as V explained. That following Monday, the changes would be pushed through. This gave them a chance to be ahead of the curve.

As promised, the Duchess was fairly vacant. A dance club without a few hundred people grinding on each other was an oddly hollow experience. But, the bar was open and the waitresses were taking orders. The spotlights, black lights, and strobing effects were all turned off, though the place itself was mostly lit with neon blue and purple lights. Tables were present in plenty of places they wouldn't be, and the stage actually had a live band playing some acceptable rock music for the era. It was a fairly relaxed environment full of a few higher-star agents, Fate Agents in other groups, and of course the employees.

For those he was particularly keen on inviting, there was a VIP list. Those agents that fought alongside Gauss would be invited to an area above the main floor up a set of stairs with its own separate bar. Age was irrelevant here; no one was carded. Upon entering the club, those that were on the list would be directed to that section where all the others would be with V. Not that they couldn't go beyond the section to visit with others or hit the dance floor, just that was the section he wanted them to congregate for when the time came.

The Regal Rper Merciless Medic @Peckinou RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Meredith Mook-LandStrider @Sybil

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Death City - Duchess of Discord
​

Snorting with contempt, Nadia looked around her at the dance club. This was normally a place she would not be caught dead in, never mind alive. So why was she here? Because she found herself thrown into events beyond her means. In a role that she did not want nor intended, but one she had to accept. Leadership came a bit naturally to the former gang leader, to her soul and essence. Rather it was being a hero. While coached on what to say, she still in Nadia fashion was given to adlib, thankfully there were other heroes and tales. Among the rebuilding efforts and the parts, she was expected to play, there were the occasional times that those that numbered among the survivors and their families would give words of thanks, or to shake hands or for a photo. They seemed to genuinely think they did their best. Though time to time there was one that cursed them.

With the scale of what happened it was surprising the DWMA held on at all, or that anyone else could. While Nadia still believed in the power of the strong, she had to admit there was but so much she could do alone. With whispers and rumors, she resolved to accept the offer. While the offer to be rid of Gauss was a part in her adopting this decision, Nadia found that she also had other reasons to accept. Had being around Dani made her grow soft, or had she found some acceptance in being the Vanguard? She also found herself keeping the helmet mask, though she did not wear it here. In fact, if anything, she had her usual garb on. All business and no pleasure.

Though given this was hosted by Gauss's brother, she wouldn't be surprised if Drugs or some other sort of excess were to be involved. She was half tempted to remain at home, still if Dani could be here, then so could she. Walking up the stairs to the VIP lounge, Nadia picks a sofa and takes a seat, with her arms up and resting on the sides, it would be the very brave or the very foolish that would take a seat next to her.

Still, even if Cyrus offered all his kind words and worth, he wasn't the one wearing the damn collar. Still, information was to be offered, a decision for the group to be discussed. Or so she was given to understand. Still as the rock and cyberpunk aesthetics of this place leaked through, the Russian refugee turned FATE agent found herself blocking out as much as she could. Though she was curious to see who all she knew on the lower floors, and to see what Maria was up to as well. Reaching down with her left hand, she pilfers her drinking flask and had a bit of the vodka within, waiting to see just what this all would be about.

Interactions: currently none.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn - The Duchess of Discor, Death City
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

With a sigh, Dani locked her door and began making her way to the meeting point. The past week and a half gave her a lot to think about. In the aftermath, they were reared as heroes, which was an uncomfortable pill to swallow. The day prior, almost no one had any faith and though they were all a waste of resources, but now even Cyrus of all people gave them a pat on the back.

Dani didn't blame anyone for their skepticism, more so outspoken spite when it occurred, and going from one end of the spectrum to the other was debilitating to say the least.

Her short break in the hospital gave her a nice reprieve from--everything. After that, her days were spent as usual. Exercise, training with Nadia, and support for the city.

In the wake of her first witch soul, Dani felt more at ease with her power. She wasn't exactly calmer or happier, but there was a sort of understanding that washed over her after the fact. At least for now, she was determined and was accepting of that beast within her. Something told her that so long as she was careful, she could draw on that power without much threat to herself or Nadia.

Almost as surprising as Cyrus not scaring the shit out of her, she met Gauss' brother, though she was still skeptical if they were actually related. The man did have that sort of smarminess to him, but Dani hasn't wanted to smack him yet. He was throwing a party at some club that of course those rich fucks could afford to rent out. After her first attempt in years to actually relax and have fun at the Fools Festival turned into a clusterfuck, Dani wasn't exactly interested. However, he did mention that they would apparently receive some information as to where the program was heading. It was for that reason alone that Dani decided to go.

This was further expressed by her apparel. No nice dress or particularly styled hair. Her hair was kept and her clothes were casual and comfortable, sporting a black tank top with a zip-up hoodie she could take off and wrap around her waist if it got too hot, followed by some denim shorts, leggings underneath, and some tennis shoes.

As she came to the club entrance, even rented out there was a bouncer of some kind to check people in. As she introduced herself and half expected there to be some kind of issue, she was nonetheless directed inside and to a VIP lounge on the second floor.

'VIP lounge? How many fucking people are at this party for there to be a VIP lounge?' Dani questioned internally.

She was sure it made sense for a normal business night, but this was supposedly a small, private party. As Dani scaled the stairs, she noted Nadia had beaten her. Walking up behind her, the Demon Sword gave her a tap on the cheek before circling around and sitting down next to her, leaning against the other arm.

"You brought booze to a club where the shit's free?" She questioned with a raised brow.

RedArmyShogun

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Adrian Hackney​

"The Maiden"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Northwest Quarter, Duchess of Discord
Mission Discourse at the Duchess
Status Interested

​

Tags: EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun

Adrian had actually been there a while. In fact, he arrived early and the bouncer just let him in. It seemed the invitation was a little flexible.

Alone atop the balcony area for some time, he saw people trickle in slowly but surely. The place was huge and most people came in groups. Even when people did waltz through those doors, it hardly made the place feel populated. It was a pretty big club and there were at best twenty people in there aside from the employees. Only a select few wore a collar like his own. Many of them appeared a bit older. It was possible they were the friends of V, though he opted not to be presumptuous. They were told in the beginning that Fate Agents came from all walks of life, so it was feasible many of them would be a fair bit older.

Chances were, he was the youngest person there. Normally, that wouldn't bother him, but this wasn't exactly his scene. The venue was nice enough, he supposed, but hardly a place he would visit of his own volition.

Still, it was better than the boredom that had overcome him over the last week. He could run, but he was told not to push himself and his stitches too hard on the equipment as he usually did. With the Calm Mind training he had been pushed into, he had spent the time he would have normally spent training his body now training his mind. At the very least, it turned out his case of being Madness-touched was fairly mild. He was concerned about that given how poorly he did in the fight against the witches, but apparently it was actually a good thing he resisted another outbreak directly after his first. It didn't exactly feel that way, but it did give him some relief.

He delved fairly hard into gaming with a touch of socializing when he wasn't working on Calm Mind training. He had hit 42% completion in the Arkham game he picked up at the Fool's Festival, which was no small feat given the amount of DLC's and updates the game had gotten over its lifespan. It was the type of thing someone could pour hundreds of hours into and still not reach 100%, so his progress wasn't exactly meager. The time he spent working towards that sweet, sweet triple digit screen was far more than he would have normally. Light duty wasn't exactly his thing, but he learned fairly quick that ripped stitches and more suturing wasn't worth pushing himself.

Sure, he was much better now, but those first few days were agonizing for the man who refused to do nothing.

Nadia and soon Dani were the first to arrive within the VIP lounge. Both of them had overlooked him, though that was likely because he elected to sit in the far off corner of the lounge inside a booth until others arrived. V had visited him once, jokingly pointing out that he had arrived a bit early. Nice enough guy, it seemed. He personally carried over a sampler platter of the appetizers with some concern that Adrian might be waiting a while. He also didn't seem terribly judgmental when Adrian told him he didn't drink; all he offered was a list of drinks that could be ordered as "virgin" that still tasted good. Adrian had to Google what that meant.

Adrian decided he had spent enough time sitting alone at the corner booth. Sliding out from his current seat, he approached Nadia and Dani, grabbing a chair from a nearby table to sling in front of him so that he could sit in it backwards facing them. He drooped his arms over the back of it so he could slouch over and rest his head. He wasn't wearing much of anything special, his usual garb although it did light up various hues of purple and pink with the lights that rained down on them.

"The food's actually not half bad," he chimed in, adding to the conversation with the only relevant thing he could. "No sushi though, but the wings were solid," he tacked on.

"Y'know, I wondered if you two would even show up at all," he said, throwing out a blunt but honest point. This didn't quite seem like their type of thing, or at least their type of place. Not that it was his.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ark | Dall Island ~ Duchess | Rings: 3/3

Rand darted off and Ark shifted gears as more and more of the terrain around them came to life. He didn't think to try what their mentor had already figured out, he was too focused on everything moving around them and trying to counteract it as Maria moved and sliced and Raph engaged in his contest of will while providing them some aide.

Yet at the sound of the shrill sound of something that he could not immediately pick out as either words or language. Just, noise. "What is that?!" He asked aloud, but Maria seemed to pick up what was being said as did Raph. He couldn't hear the message being spoken by the spider.

"Truce, what?" Ark ceased his magic in preparation for another round but kept the power running through his gloves. "Are we done fighting?" He had NO CLUE what was happening, but it seemed like one of the spiders could talk or something in some sort of magically induced language. Whatever it meant, if they didn't need to fight he wouldn't keep the assault going.

---

From Dall to Death City, the attack that they had clearly missed being a part of in defending against had been more damaging than he would have initially thought.

Yet walking through the remains of a battlefield brought back the past, involuntarily. At this point, Ifechi had become accustomed to it-- the mage known as Ark, would just have to carry that moving on.

The good news he learned of however, did nothing to stop the past from sinking its ugly claws into his back.

Streets torn up, debris littering certain parts of the city, yet, thankfully, the casualties here were far fewer than they had been in Doula; a city in Cameroon that had been raided with a multitude of disappearances, all part of the plan to throw Agents off the track of the later attack that would strike Port Harcourt. Cameroon officials and militia working in coalition with politically corrupt Congolese generals and the upper echelons of its political hierarchy.

Though he worked dutifully, there were moments where Ark would pause to remove debris, and stare silently at an empty spot with an empty expression.

Blinking away the phantoms of blood, mangled bodies, and the smell of decaying flesh along the iron scent of drying blood.

He’d shake his head, and carry on. Glad that things had not been worse than they could have been. Glad that FATE Agents were getting some respect from Cyrus, a man whom he’d heard through the grapevine, that despite overseeing FATE as Lord Kidd’s trusted ally to see it done right, held his own personal less than savory opinions about the agents themselves.

To hear from the man himself that whatever his fellow FATE allies had done to preserve life and limit casualty had done its job in turning over a new leaf for the program as a whole, certainly would make Kidd happy- and was even more of a win for all of them.

But even as they cleaned up the city and he dutifully worked in helping to repair the structure of roads or restabilize places that might prove treacherous- Ark felt the weight of his past hovering over his shoulder.

The thoughts were not as bad as they had been in the past. He didn’t see that illusion, where he’d stare into a mirror and see a dirty version of himself, covered in dust- sweat, sometimes even blood- giving him a hard, unnatural- even foreign stare. Wishing as if they could trade places.

The thought drove him to dig more into what had happened.

It was moments like these, he found his own curiosity to be a double-edged sword. He dug into what he had missed, learning more about what had happened as best he could.

Fae, Corrupted Souls, highly advanced Golems, and attacks influenced by the strange anomaly with the moon on that same day.

None of this could be coincidental, but for the life of him, Ark could not fathom how the moon played into things.

Instances where celestial events occurred were not uncommon in the world, but moonlight reflecting clearly in broad daylight? Not even at sunset? He went through a list of possibilities and found no such historic astronomical anomalies.

Who and where? Was the question. Who were these Fae attacking in coordination with these other groups? Where had all these Corrupted Souls suddenly come from? Who were these individuals that had been influenced by the Moon’s sudden appearance during a sunny afternoon? And where had someone gotten the materials necessary to create these advanced golems that had participated in attacking the residents of Death City?

He doubted anyone knew much about the Fae, even when probing his own House for answers over the week, even when trying to probe other Houses in the Realm, Ark found little information- either because it was deliberately being withheld from him, or no one knew anything and didn’t want to make it obvious or it could have been a mixture or some other option.

He went to the libraries, digging up information that he could. And all he found was just the scant knowledge that DWMA and the Fae had some old ties going back to the original Lord Death, with the species never really bothering to truly interact with humanity like the Witches had or other races had in general.

Crossing the Fae off the list, Ark moved on.

The golems, how advanced could they be? He wanted to know so he went to friends to see what they could inform him of on the theory behind creating a Golem. Going to Davis seemed like a possibility, but he wasn’t sure if he’d get the time to meet the man in person or even call to ask him his questions about his experience.


Theoretically, as far as it had been explained to him, creating a Golem that could function autonomously or semi-autonomously, was an extremely difficult task. Golems by nature, if they were not the kind Maria used which function off a form of puppeteering, but moved more fluently and freely, required continuous input and necessitated an interface that would on some level, give them the ability to display a simulation of consciousness. Like DWMA’s own golems, they were ‘programmed’ to respond to danger and recognize threats, but as displayed during the event, those ‘programs’ could also be overridden and weaponized. The ones that presented themselves as non-hostile and attacked the residents of DWMA were on an entirely different level of creation.

Then the Corrupted Souls and these ‘Lunatics’ as they were now dubbed.

Ark didn’t know where to begin with the people related to the moon incident. As the days went on he found his time waning quickly, much to his disappointment. With the invitation from V, he couldn’t entirely afford to skip out on this. Even if he personally wanted to do nothing more but continue his own research about everything that happened in the event that his team or his friends, could use the information in the future. He understood that this was a hand reaching out, where most Agents preferred to keep their distance- seeing one group that wanted to ease the tension between FATE and the Regulars, was a good sign.

And due to the influence of his upbringing, it would be poor etiquette of him to ignore such an invitation at all.

Contacting the others to check and see if they would be going as a precaution (so he’d have an excuse not to go if none of them were and instead wouldn’t mind helping him snoop around), he paused at Maria, and seeing what her ultimate goal would have been, likely stay inside or get dragged out- he decided to instead drag her with him.

After all, if he didn’t entirely want to go- why not bring a potential friend who felt similar?

---

He was ready by 5pm but instead of going to the event immediately he went back into his research.

At 5:30 he noticed he was doing that thing again, where he got lost in his work.

Ark sighed, instead, leaving behind his research on what he could find in relation to the sudden appearance of these Lunatics. It was little, but what little he found he had been trying to dig more into in other avenues.

Regardless, time was up, and he had to meet Maria there- not showing would be the epitome of rudeness.

Parking his bike and removing his cycle helmet, Ark entered in a simple dark purple, almost indigo colored button up, no undershirt underneath, khakis and boots. Dressed simple, at least for a club. Entering inside though the environment was far more relaxed than he’d anticipated it’d be.

He assumed this as to be some kind of celebration, ergo, louder- more vibrant. This though, it was…fine honestly.

He’d had enough excitement just running around, looking for information on the whole.

It didn’t escape his notice that there was a VIP lounge, he assumed that might mean that would be where Gauss and the rest of his group who’d been part of the action would be with his older brother.

Anything that keeps Nadia and Dani separate from Raph is a win in my book. He thought as he walked forwards, in search of any familiar faces, Maria’s or friends, if not them then he chose an empty seat at the table.

Mentions: n/a

Interactions:: Merciless Medic Sir Les Paul RedArmyShogun Meredith

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Death City - Duchess of Discord​

In the following days with the return from Dall Island, Maria had busied herself with a wide range of tasks, helping with the cleanup, getting her workshop operational, replacing what was lost, repairing what could be, she even had the mana infused weapons from the island and what samples she was allowed to take. But there had been no time to address it, though now she might could attempt the basic automation to her smaller dolls, a project to consider in the soon after among many, many others.

Her eyes were heavy and tired. Black shadows underneath from a lack of sleep, she heavily carried the scent of wood shavings, her hands covered in faint signs of hard labor that the miracles of magic healed away. With mention of the party and its offer, she said no immediately to the asking if she were going. She needed to rest she knew, but that could come once work was done. It was then that a voice came to nag her. Ark.

With some of his words, the fact Nadia and Dani, if begrudgingly were going, and that this would pertain in some way to work, the doll maker reluctantly agreed to go. She would treat this as a part of work. This V fellow at least seemed to be helpful... Though if she recalled the last name, he was related to the Meister she blew up in the tournament wasn't he? "Hmm..."

No, she would not wear her black dress after all, it was a shame she could not bring her creations, or rather should not. Leaving at 5 Sharp, she arrived by 5:15 with her mobile workshop, parking it out of the way, looking at the facade of the building, Maria lets out a sigh and enters, clearing security and noticing a VIP level that was reserved for those who had fought alongside Gauss, least that's what the employees said. She would have to see Dani and Nadia sometime later if they came down. The place was against the style and sensibilities of Maria, but at least there was none of the usual stuff for this kind of place, and some tables set out with food. While it may not have been the best of food it did beat surviving off of sandwiches and nature bars as she had been the last few days.

Looking around for some people she knew, it seemed even though she was late, she had managed to beat all but a couple up in the VIP section and the people that worked here, plus a few other guests she did not know. Had the rest lied to her? Did they all just make her come here? Though a few minutes later she did spot Ark entering. Noting him take a seat, she decided to make her way over, with a plate of food she fixed for herself.

"Ah, so you did come. I was worried I would need to stalk a few of you as payback."

Mentions: Various
Interactions: The Regal Rper

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Rand Mabason​

"Soundwave Sorcerer"​

Species Witch
Partner N/A
Rank Two Star

Location Dall Island, East of Lake Nordall
Mission Excursion to Dall Island
Status Interested

​

Tags: Meredith Merciless Medic The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun

Rand heard what Raph shouted, but he was taken aback slightly in disbelief. Despite his confusion, he did elect to stop killing the spiders nearby him until the situation was cleared up, but he remained on guard nonetheless. The last time he was in this situation, there were far more of these little bastards, the forest was much more violent, and it didn't stop for what felt like an eternity. Sure, there was the potential for change, but this was a little beyond his realm of belief.

Rand opted to make his way back to the group and in that time, the forest turned silent. No more attacks from unnaturally animated vines, limbs, or roots. Rand was skeptical for various reasons. First, it was very rare that any problem on Dall Island could be resolved diplomatically. Secondly, talking spiders were a bit of a far-stretch. Sure, anything was possible with magic, but that implied a higher level of intellect that hadn't been recorded in the species.

Once arriving back, his dark eyes looked specifically at Raph with a piercing gaze and his only question was a direct one, "The fuck you do you mean the spiders talk and want to talk?"

Meanwhile, both Raph and Maria would get some insight as to the spiders and how they communicated. Once the fight for control over the flora around them had ended, the channel of communication became more clear. In that clarity, something was a little more obvious. These spiders, while they could communicate, were not that smart. Words escaped them. There was some slight confusion as a general feeling that traveled through the vine with certain words like truce and kapeesh that the spiders just did not understand. They were very simplistic creatures. Even though they could innately perform such a complex magic as communication through a mana line such as this, it was only due to their nature. Magical Creatures were a wild and diverse subject, after all.

For a brief while, the communication lines were filled up with various spiders all trying to communicate the same thing: no kill. After one reached out, many others followed, and this only managed to complicate things briefly. This problem was self-resolved shortly as one spider announced to the others that only one should talk, and quickly they followed suit. Whether that was in mutual agreement or there was some type of hierarchy, it was unclear, but all future communication only came through one source.

"We no kill. You no kill. Good."

Silence.

"Talk new. Black spiders no talk. We talk bad."

Silence.

"If no kill, we take to mother. Mother talk good. Yes?"

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Death City - Duchess of Discord
​

As Dani made her presence known swiftly and silently, Nadia found the pink haired Weapon leaning against her right arm, sitting next to her, reaching up with her right hand she patted the other on the head before lowering her arm to where it was before. Someone had the nerve to sit next to her after all. And one whom she did not mind. Lowering the flask she scoffs, rolling her eyes a little. "My Vodka brand is likely better than theirs, but sure, might as well take advantage of it."

It was then that another presence made itself known. The autonomous weapon, the Maiden, Dani's would be dance partner, the one that she had to help pull from Madness with the others. Adrian wasn't it? Minus that incident she had no cause to run him off or to be rude, he performed well enough.

So that was who was in the booth sulking, I thought it was an employee.

Watching as he grabbed a chair to join them, she gave a nod as a means to say 'Hello'. "Adrian. And no, it isn't, but they said it concerned the fate of, well FATE and the DWMA, so I had little choice but to come and see. These events demand something of me at the least... Though I doubt I'll stay overly long."

At the mention of food she scoffs once more. "That so? Well, I guess I'll take a look and make use of Gauss's family wealth. Though let us see what drinks they have." Calling over a Waiter, Nadia places a rather simple order, "Vodka, two glasses, don't bring me bottom shelf shit."

With the server going off to carry out the order, it seemed the other glass was for Dani, provided she wanted any. "So, what were you up to? And I see you decided to come to this as well Dani."

Interactions: EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Viraj Thales, IV​

"V"​

Species Human (Weapon)
Partner Darius Jackson
Rank Three Star

Location Death City, Northwest Quarter, Duchess of Discord
Mission Discourse at the Duchess
Status Curious, light-hearted

​

Tags: EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun

"Hm..." V muttered, having overheard part of the conversation after ascending the stairway. His bright, yellow eyes scanned the upper level, noting how few people had arrived thus far. In fairness, that was to be expected. The event truly had just begun.

That, and if he knew his brother, he would arrive fashionably late with some type of ensemble cast, potentially with a few of them not initially invited. If this program had any actual positive effect on him, the man would just show up with his partners and ideally sober. Or, at least close to it. V had heard of his stunt with the cocaine. While it did serve a purpose in that fight, he didn't consider it beyond his brother to do it for what he considered the fun of it. Worse, he conned his partners into doing it, too. He couldn't immediately condemn him given their success, but clearly some habits were hard to break.

"Get the Stoli Elit from the back for her, if you would," V finally said, now walking over to the group while scanning through his phone. In truth, he was checking the messages of those that were invited and still contacting some others. If his brother specifically waited too long, V had full intentions on giving him a call if only to make sure he wasn't out pre-gaming for this event. It wasn't intended to be that kind of party. The look on his face, although not particularly concentrated on the three in front of him, was one of focus and duty.

V did know it was rude to remain on the phone while engaging in a conversation, so once he neared, he slid it into his pocket and offered the three a warm smile. He had a striking resemblance to Gauss. A touch taller with shorter black hair slicked back, but that same dark skin and set of bright eyes. More matured, sure, but there was no denying their lineage. The blood ran deep with them. Deeper even than Thea, and she bore a similar appearance as well.

"Pleasure to meet most of you again," he told them, nodding his head ever so slightly.

Those eyes of his and that smile didn't fade as his focus shifted over to Nadia. Her words irked him, but his poker face revealed nothing. He did not like the implication she was making. This was not bought for. V did not have the same wealth as Thaddeus. They were not both given daddy's credit cards and name to throw around. He doubted she knew that, but she also wouldn't know that he had spent a majority of his life as an agent with people assuming that. Assuming that he was just a rich boy that bought his way in.

No. He wasn't. He worked for it. Blood, sweat, tears, and time--just like the rest of them.

"The proprietors of the Duchess actually offered the venue of their own volition," he explained in a cool, rationale tone, hiding both his frustration and instead focusing on the generosity of the owners. By masking his correction as an emphasis on that kindness, he solved the problem without causing any real confrontation. "My understanding is that the daughter of the owner of this fine establishment was one of the many unnamed souls you saved in Spirit Park. If not for that, this wouldn't really be possible," he explained to them, giving them the actual reason behind the event.

A scoff. Not condescending, but more of a half-laugh from him. His eyes then closed and he shook his head. "Well, that is unless my brother paid for it. Thea and I were cut off when we joined the DWMA... and have been ever since," he told them, further explaining both his laugh. It was a slight shot at his brother, sure, but it was again merely a mask for the clarification he wanted to make about their wealth. Or, more specifically, his lack thereof.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn - The Duchess of Discor, Death City
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

"I'd think a place like this would have more than enough high-end, overpriced shit," Dani replied. They had to have more than bottom shelf items. Even if they didn't, it wasn't that big of a deal. There wasn't that much of a difference, a statement she was sure some would give her an earful for.

As the two discussed, they were joined by a third who made their presence known. Dani's face lit up, even if only slightly, that it was someone she knew and liked. A silver lining in what was otherwise not her scene. "Hey," She greeted simply, though for the first time in the night her scowl lifted.

Letting Nadia speak first, Dani shrugged at both their question of her being there. "Same thing pretty much... That V guy said they had some info about the program, so I came. Though I guess it doesn't matter much... If they wanted to throw us into another coliseum or some shit, it's not like knowing ahead of time will let us get out of it."

The scowl returned as Dani thought back to that event, followed by the devil she spoke of. She still wasn't sure what to make of the guy. He was so similar yet so different from Gauss it was off-putting in a way. Still, he hadn't been a jerk to her so she wouldn't let impressions of another determine her treatment of him.

At his explanation, the Demon Sword let out a hum in acknowledgement. She didn't know who the alleged daughter was, but then again, why would she? It was nice that they were apparently okay though, Dani supposed. However, his next words earned a look of astonishment from her.

"How does that make any fucking sense?" Dani blurted out, more so a verbalization of her confusion than a genuine attempt to pry. "Even if she's a b—..."

Trailing off, Dani realized she was talking before she was thinking and cut herself off. It wasn't for the fact that she thought Thea wasn't one. However, this was her brother. Her own could be an asshole at times, but that didn't mean she liked hear others talk crap about him—evident by said aforementioned coliseum match. It was an extension of respect, not to the bitch, but V. Still, to her, that sentence was a great sin. Dani valued family to a great degree given it was all she had for the longest time. The idea of cutting your family off—Just what could possibly have happened to justify it?

"I mean... That's screwed up. Sorry that happened..." She finished after a brief pause.

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Death City - Duchess of Discord
​

It was soon after that V arrived, looking over the man, it was clear he and Gauss were related, so much so it wasn't even funny, though from his mannerism and speech that was where the similarities ended. Letting out an amused 'heh'. "Stoli eh? That is pretty good, at least it is from Russia. What I buy point of fact." Though there was a sudden bit of tension playing out across her face as he continued to speak, Nadia studied him closely, his looks did not betray what his words said, which at a level did bother Nadia, and not in the angry going to cut him sort of way.

"Huh, someone we saved. Maybe I should wear the damn mask more. I must play the role I was given, I took it on after all, but to go so far for us? I did not save those people expecting things to be given. Still now that the drink was asked for..." Exhaling at that, she stayed silent as the conversation carried on, she felt the same as Dani. Though in Nadia fashion she did not hold back. Looking at the Three Weapon she shook her head, muttering something in Russian before speaking aloud.

"What is wrong with your Family? No, I will not say as much to the little bastard Gauss, but I always felt his hedonistic shit was to make up for some sort of personal issues. But now between your sister and yourself and what I've heard of the man or in passing, your father values you all doesn't he? And I do not mean as in a father valuing his child, but as in a stockbroker valuing an asset. Once you do not have that, he cuts you off. Your sister went too far that day, but the one in your family that deserves a good talking to is your father..." The edge she put into the talking aspect of it suggested she had a Slavic talking in mind more than the American one.

With a twitch of her jaw she seemed to guess his feelings, or maybe it was a bit of self-analyzation. "Sorry. Not for what I've said about all that, but that I thought this was through things you were not given. As a three star you and your sister, regardless of all the rest, you earned your way, least the DWMA has betrayed all my expectations. Still to think they would do all of this for us..."

Setting her jaw straight, Nadia seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, likely memories from the past, from times long gone and things that could not be taken back. Snapping back too, she turned her head to look at the barkeep fixing the drink. Turning her attention back to the trio and Dani, Nadia gives the girl another reassuring pat and squeeze, while Dani would not speak about it as candidly as she would, Nadia knew the pair have lost what was dear to them to be bothered be all of this. "Well, it is poor form to refuse what is given out of gratitude. To a point at least, one should not worship their heroes as if they were gods. We all have our faults; I am not without them myself."

Interactions: EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

 

[Mook-LandStrider]

Annika
Duchess of Discord
Sir Les Paul RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen​

The last few days had been interesting to say the least. She had ended up killing a possible cousin of hers, or at least… She thought so? Her mother had never been that vocal about what families allied themselves with her own. Hell, she didn’t even know if her mother had sisters. She was so kept in the dark about the realities of her witch half that it just… wasn’t present. Following that chaos she ended up being allowed into Davis’s lab. It was a treat to say the least. Davis had allowed her to keep the cloak, damaged though as it may be. She realized the fiber composition could be something useful that if spun correctly could make a neat material.

The prototype of which she immediately began construction of. Luckily, the lab had a machine for synthesizing inorganic fibers. She had spent the majority of her time since the incident in the lab. One exception however was spending some of her free time with Elly. Annika wasn't entirely sure how much she had slept in the 9 days since the DWMA was attacked. She had spent so much time using the new tools at her disposal that the day of the party had snuck up on her.

Setting the machine to print the prototype design she finally forced herself to head home and spend the rest of the day and night resting as much as possible. While she knew another attack was exceptionally unlikely she wasn’t going to be caught off guard again. Passing out she slept for nearly fifteen hours, getting up the next day at three in the afternoon, three hours before the club opened.

Having retrieved the ‘prototype’ from the lab she quickly rushed home and changed. Getting ready didn’t take nearly as long as she expected. The few helping hands she had created were speeding the process up significantly.

Arriving at the Duchess of Discord Annika showed her invite to the bouncer and was quickly ushered inside. Wearing ‘The Prototype’ she ran her hand down the fabric causing it to shift from its steely white to a vibrant and colorful dress. Walking onto the floor of the club she looked it over once more and smiled as it kept the color palette. Standing still for a moment she looked around the room at all those that were already within the club. She tried to see familiar faces but considering how little social time she actually got and those she was around she didn’t expect to see any truly familiar faces.

There were those that she had worked with days earlier. But she had barely gotten to know any of them. She knew they would likely come, or at least she believed they would. It was then that she felt a presence trying to get her attention. It was one of the employees guiding her towards a VIP Lounge. Following the employee she entered the VIP area and saw two of those that were with her days earlier and one person she didn’t know. “Hello.” she spoke to the three as she made her way to the bar.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Viraj Thales, IV​

"V"​

Species Human (Weapon)
Partner Darius Jackson
Rank Three Star

Location Death City, Northwest Quarter, Duchess of Discord
Mission Discourse at the Duchess
Status Curious, light-hearted

​

Tags: EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun Mook-LandStrider

It seemed both of the women in front of him were somewhat triggered by his explanation, though both of them more so angered by his father. That made sense. Both V and his sister had bad blood with their father. A lot of hurt feelings, and in the case of Thea, a broken heart. Years ago, V might have relished in this validation, but had since grown beyond that. In reality, it meant very little for others to dislike his father for what he did. It's not like their opinions alone were going to bring down Thaltek or teach him some life lesson. Even if they could, it really wouldn't bring him any inner peace.

V had worked hard to come to terms with his life up until now. He had spent years trying to console Thea. Many times she wanted to quit, and honestly, he didn't try to convince her not to. Her early years in the DWMA were rough. Girls could be mean, and when they realized she was a broke Thales, she wasn't exactly set to impress anyone. More notably, Thea was naturally athletic. In fact, she was more fit than V was. Perhaps not stronger, but she was faster, more agile, better reactions, higher endurance. In her early years, she was highly competitive and tried to compete with Meisters. It never really made her a likeable person.

V also spent many years trying to act as a mediator between Thea and Thaddeus. Years after they joined the DWMA, Thaddeus did, except he received full support from their father. Thea was upset all over again and when she spurned Thaddeus, she only upset him further. Those two girls wouldn't believe it, but Thaddeus and Thea were closer than V ever was to Thea. What destroyed their relationship was their father. Or, more accurately, his support. And, V was stuck in the middle of it all before he even got to work out how he felt about the matter.

Daniella tried to remain polite, but Nadia had no qualms making a scene out of it. Not that it upset V, he had heard it all before and far worse. Ultimately, he could only respond with a defeated sigh.

"Our father cares, I believe. Perhaps, too much," V responded simply and succinctly. "He didn't want us to become Agents of the DWMA because he didn't want us in danger. I was supposed to inherit Thaltek. In a way, a lot of our family trouble is my fault," V explained to them. His tone didn't come across as argumentative and he wasn't directly trying to defend his father, but more so provide some insight as to what it was actually like in their family.

"V is short for Viraj. Viraj Alexander Thales, the Fourth. I only came here to master my weapon form, but fell in love with the romantic idea of being an agent... so I wanted to stay. Thea did, too, right after joining; she never had more fun," he told them, weaving the tale of how things came to be in their little family squabble with the smooth yet stern voice he possessed and honestly mastered better than even that of Gauss.

"I can't tell you that I'm not disappointed in how she acts, but I do wish you would forgive her..." V told them, being quite sincere in his concern for his sister. The man became more and more unlike his brother every time he spoke. "She was daddy's little girl, you know. His only daughter at the time, and honestly more spoiled than Thaddeus and I ever were. I was being groomed to be the next CEO and Thaddeus was too young to really stand out at the time. So, imagine how she felt when our father told her such cruel things and disowned us. He did all he could to force us back home. I went back for a while, actually... but I absconded again. I couldn't do the corporate life and I won't lie, I love the thrill of a good fight," he explained to the three. He had an odd balance of taking accountability for his own decisions and opinions, yet also trying to shed light on why these massive disagreements occurred.

"Thea was just melancholic and me leaving a second time made it worse with our father. That heartbreak turned to hate. Now, imagine how she felt when Thaddeus joined the DWMA. Not even a weapon like us, and our father gave him his full support. Mind you, by that time, he had already remarried and was working on his second of now-three families. Thea was livid, and worse, all she saw in Thaddeus was our father. I don't know what you actually know of him. Thea gave him the cold shoulder when he joined and I was busy with missions. He found attention elsewhere, as he always does, and that's when Thea became as you see her. The moment she thought he was acting like our father--a womanizer--she turned into a Holy Terror for everyone. All she sees in Thaddeus is our father, and in turn, Thaddeus receives hate enough for two people," V continued to monologue, still if anything trying to create some sympathy for Thea here. She was whom he asked them to forgive, after all.

"As for Thadde--Oh.." V started, but cut off his explanation midway through as Annika approached, introducing herself. She made her way to the bar, it seemed, but such was only a little ways from the couch. Likely receiving her drink. In the time V had been explaining their family endeavors, the bartender had in fact served Nadia. An older bottle of Stoli Elit, silver label, stored cool but not cold. Poured into a chilled glass and served with a few fresh peppercorns in the bottom of the glass, she was given the bottle on a platter with a small tray of ice and the cup all at once, all of it being able to sit on the table nearby the couch.

"Another time, perhaps," V said, shifting his attention to the new girl in the uniquely designed dress. "You would be Annika, if I have my names right. You received Class B clearance to the Magitech Workshops under Professor Davis. Any gossip as to what he's working on?" V said, transitioning into a conversation-sparking question.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Japan | Hoshi Homeland

Exhausted, more from the burning in his arms from repetition, the axe blade sunk into the ground and Zosar turned, giving Midori the attention he deserved as he spoke.

Hearing it though, made his lips press together in a thoughtful line.

Then his eyes moved to Adra and he began moving towards her as she keeled from exhaustion-- stopping at least when Midori moved to collect her since it was clear she was done here.

As they departed Zosar sat, suppressed, staring thoughtfully at the trees, their black polished wood gave them an odd beauty if you ignored the fact that carelessness around them would lead to untimely death.

Is my control really that bad?

Ever since he'd been put into the collar, he rejected that notion immediately. Even when Souta had said it, he’d taken it in stride as the elder’s Hoshi level standards. In this moment though, he forced himself to consider it. The idea he was slipping in something that was core to who he’d grown up to become, disturbed him.

Perhaps that was a lesson he needed to learn as well. He’d allowed himself to become numb to the looks of the Regulars at DWMA, indifferent to the criticism since he’d been outed as a spy. They had justified biases given what he was, but he’d allowed those biases to wash over him, much in the same way he’d continued in his own form of petty rebellion at what the collar represented to him. He was alone, at least he had been and so looking out for himself and treading the line had been key.

Now though it was about control. If he lacked, he was useless. That had been his greatest fear as a kid, and somewhere deep down it still was. The collar had only turned that paranoia into anger. If the collar activated, he would prove DWMA right and by extension, a piece of himself that wanted nothing more than to control this volatile power absolutely.

Looking upwards past the roof of branches and leaves, Zosar stared at the sky.

He couldn’t deny it. He hated the nature of the Volatile Soul.At the same time, there was a part of him that embraced the struggle he was forced to endure. That struggle made him tougher. Less resilient to buckle when things went truly south. Because if he were to cave so easily, he wouldn’t be here.

Life as a whole probably would have been very different.

His eyes went back to the trees and he went back to his original question.

Is my control really that bad?

Zosar exhaled a controlled, yet exhausted sigh.

Souta had mentioned they could teach him to force control over his wavelength- but-- he shook his head, that wasn’t a route he truly wanted. It was out as an option. Hiroshi had made the comment also once, and he knew this wasn’t the goal he wanted.

He wanted full control, and he wouldn’t get that taking the easy route.

He got back up, grabbed the axe in the process and considered things less from his perspective of how he would handle this, and more from what he understood of Hoshi so far from his basic observations.

Soulless assassin.

Changing his grip on the axe so held the blade side more closely Zosar took a stance and thought about what this meant.

In essence, the Hoshi were known for being untraceable killers. That was what made them so well-known. Hiroshi explained that the reason for this was because they could erase the presence of their soul to the senses of normal class Perceptionists.

Though he’d noticed something small- a tiny window. So small it was ignorable. Midori, had one moment he could recall clearly where he’d sensed him, and that had been when he’d attacked Cyrus on their first day as FATE Agents. The bloodlust he’d feigned in the attack had been palpable to him in an instant but only after he’d done the attack and was racing towards Cyrus.

The same applied to that cousin of his when Eustace and he had been captured.

He tried spiking his wavelength, and felt that familiar boost- as well as the tug from the trees before he suppressed once more.

If he thought about this like a Perceptionist, what gave away a soul? Every soul had its own cadence, its own pattern of spikes, you could see it in the beat, and though he was no expert he at least recognized it and how these spikes changed when Amplification was used.

Suppression smoothed out all those spikes so they were so tiny, the fluctuations in the wavelength couldn’t be noticed. The more one suppressed the harder it became to detect one’s real power. When he suppressed he made his soul appear normal, then tapped into the excess whenever he required it in doses. Suppression was key to anonymity if effectively done on the scale the Hoshi performed it.

Hoshi probably attained a level of control they could suppress and still draw out some of their strength without releasing enough energy a normal Perceptionist could use against them. Considering how long it took him to be able to keep up with even beginners of his initial unit under similar lessons, it was obvious why most in their world didn't bother with this kind of training.

Considering that, Zosar thought about what that meant for him.

The Volatile Soul, as he’d been told by his superiors, had a randomized, powerful, and chaotic pattern. His goal had been learning to get used to stabilizing it enough for it to be used at all. Then learning to manage the power fluctuations.

Most meisters merely learned how to control the energy and channel it, they didn’t face his problem, the self-infliction wasn’t likely for them. Nor did they have to deal with the greater chance of rejection the higher they spiked. Hoshi learned how to channel power without exposing themselves in the process, and this was with normal souls. The task of reconditioning himself now, seemed impossible.

Elder Souta had said they didn’t have years, it now weighed on him just how unlikely it’d be for him to get much out of this method of training even if he spent months here. It’d taken him 3 years to be able to do anything with his wavelength as a beginner.

Most of his peers at that point were far ahead of him. His only real advantage had been power. If he’d been normal, he’d be lacking by comparison. Forcing his wavelength to do what he wanted honestly seemed like the easier task.

Then again, he recalled his dad calling him a whinny squirrel for complaining so much about training but wanting to be thrown into the important stuff.

He’d thought it was impossible back then too, this was no different. It wasn’t about the power he’d attain, he needed to focus on the lesson. Getting distracted by what he could have was his problem.

“Okay.” He muttered to himself with renewed energy. “Let’s…give this a shot.”

Still suppressed, Zosar considered how to go about this. He was so used to spiking his wavelength the way he did, and drawing from that it took him several seconds of just standing there and staring at the tree before he tried something.

He spiked, but instead of spiking and then suppressing afterwards he tried doing both. He spiked his wavelength in his suppressed state- drawing on a normal boost of strength and power to increase his muscles, and at the same time tried to suppress that spike in the process- weaken it so it was smaller than it normally would be. If he had someone watching he could check to see if he was doing it right, but Hoshi did this alone and the clan had members that could figure it out. He would also.

Out of nowhere, it felt as if a fist had been driven into his gut. Pain, lanced through his legs and arms. Suppressed as he was completely, there was no physical boost giving him superhuman durability. The punch felt like any other- but it was from no real fist.

Rejection, he thought, through the pain, tiny, but still painful.

Zosar collapsed to the ground, gasping for air- and had it not been for his conditioning with the Enlighteners, he would have released his Full Suppression, returning to his normalized relaxed soul state. Gnashing his teeth together as he fought for air, he managed to avoid that which by extension, prevented an even worse greater Rejection.

This brought him back. The gasping, the stiffness. He used to think his mentors disliked him.

Used to think his parents resented him on some level actually in his own childish perspective. Used to hate Jose for just watching him struggle instead of helping him up when he collapsed every time. That somehow they were doing this to him intentionally. That was before he understood more through his Soul Studies. Until he later learned that he’d been accidentally doing it to himself. Growing used to the pain had helped him. If he were starting out now, he’d have been uninterested in continuing for the rest of the day like he had as a kid.

The shifting tides of his moods through training in the early stages, in hindsight, probably had contributed to the total three and a half years it’d taken for him to be a capable Meister.

In a low voice, “Okay” he managed as he rose back up . “Like mom used to say, let’s do that better this time.”

Unfortunately, it would not be the last micro-rejection he endured, but it certainly was better than the first.

He took a few minutes to collect himself, then would continue trying again. This really did bring him back to youth. Bittersweet in a way, as he had neither Becky or Mark, watching him from the sidelines or Jose or Hiroshi, father or mother- studying him a distance away.

The micro-rejections were sporadic in appearance. If he pushed too hard, the pain was enough to fell him completely. If he did too little, the benefit was small and the pain in return, was enough to momentarily stun. These were all things he'd felt before. He was used to that sort of pain- but it still slowed his progress in the start of that first hour by minutes. Though Zosar’s attempt at attacking the tree certainly had fewer marks than he liked, he didn't stop trying.

The goal in that moment had been relearning the basics- correcting the problems that had been clearly pointed out to him. The fact he went through those micro-rejections was a testament to his lack of true control. It was proof that he had growing to do- as long as he didn’t pass out before Midori got back, and didn’t waste all of his wavelength on the side.

By the time he cleared the first thirty minutes he no longer felt micro-rejections, and they no longer appeared spontaneously on sequential attempts. Now, he'd get it once, a small shock-- enough to make him stop and pause for a few minutes of rest, but nothing that would drop him to the ground again after he cleared the hour mark.

He was sore, tired, but not exhausted to a point he couldn’t retain suppressing himself enough to barely feel the strain from the trees. Earlier he’d thought this would be nothing different from his youthful training.

Now, he didn’t think so. The Enlighteners didn’t have access to many supernatural items like Soul Sapping Water, or these trees. Most required natural training. Sure, he’d been sore and tired after his own attempts to learn better control- but attacking the tree that sucked like a leech at his spirit energy, did nothing to really help him in the long run.

By an hour and a half, Zosar sat, instead, resting, then meditating. Trying to regain the copious energy he’d lost before he did himself damage. He could tell he was reaching his limits- if he passed out, he’d die here before Midori returned.

He was not so focused on the long term goal, that he would allow shortsightedness to due him in.

Mentions: N/A

Interactions: Sir Les Paul @Sybil

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Spy x Assassin​

Tags: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Mook-LandStrider

---

April 10th, 2067​

Spoiler: Prelude

Brought all the way back from Japan for this. It seemed Midori could never escape the city for long. He understood his duty, but there was no denying it was frustrating. True though it be that he owed Lord Kidd his life, he wished he could at least remain in the East Asia Branch. Some semblance of home and even when he wasn’t truly home, close to it. To walk down the same halls and roads that he once did with Ao. To reflect upon a time his life was so much simpler–even if it wasn’t truly his own life.

He wasn’t always this homesick. In this case, he was just in Japan in his homeland a week prior. Watching Zosar go over training he had completed he had undergone when he was a child. Introducing Adra to someone he had a long, gnarled history with. For better or worse, it was familiar. Death City, while grand, lacked that.

Elly had been adamant that he would not her at her apartment yet. Wise enough, he guessed, given how unfamiliar she was with him. He had access to her dossier, too, so he knew plenty about her, but she knew very little about him–aside from that which was rumor. That disparity in knowledge made sense to be concerning.

Instead, he awaited her arrival at the monorail exit at Station 116, the Northmost monorail exit from the monorail used in the West half of the city where some of the nicer locations in the city were. Mostly, it was just the more developed half of the city with the East being more historic, save a few prime locations.

Finally, though, her train was arriving. He opted not to take the train as, well, he could get there faster without it. Besides that, he wasn’t a huge fan of the cramped space. With it slowing down before coming to a halt and the doors opening, a wave of relief hit him that he would no longer just be standing there. It made him feel odd; like he was some creep.

That said, he at least was a well-dressed creep. He wore a light, trendy blazer overtop an unbuttoned white shirt and some slimming slacks. Not quite business casual as it was quite chic, but it was suitable for a time out on the town. Stoic and calm, he stood up from the bench he was waiting, slid his hands into his pockets, and stood at a cocked angle waiting for Elly to arrive so they could make it to the Duchess.

As the doors opened, Elly made her way towards Midori, identifying his soul even through the mass of people. It helped that it wasn’t exactly normal given his state as a golem, and that made it easier to wade through the sea of people. Though she was sure he could make it more difficult if he wanted to.

Once free from the mob, one could see she had dressed up a fair bit as well. A tan, ribbed v-neck sweater that tucked underneath the waist of a nice pair of dark jeans with a brown belt hugging it to her hips, and finally a pair of nicer, tan, ankle strap sandals with a small heel that negligibly raised her height. Her hair was kempt and wavy, with a light touch of makeup to her face and some gold-colored earrings and a necklace that further accentuated her exposed neckline.

As she approached him, Elly gave him a small smile with a tilt of her head as she looked up at him. “You clean up well, Midori~ Did I keep you waiting for long?” She asked in her typical, bubbly tone.

While not a stone per se, Midori remained fairly stoic. With this one specifically. Just as it would take an act of Congress for her to trust him, she would have to part the Red Sea to weasel her way into his inner circle. It made for an odd pair. The fact she could wield him despite that distrust only meant that something within their souls aligned because of it. It must have been their nature.

”I know better than to comment on your attire,” he responded in a flat yet subtly suave tone. It was a veiled compliment in and of itself, but an acknowledgement of her appearance as a weapon.

”As for the wait, I suppose that’s a matter of perspective. Six or seven minutes to a tortoise may be nothing when compared to a hare,” he answered. That, in its own way, of a polite acknowledgement that she did, in fact, have him waiting for at least some time.

”I’m surprised you would take the monorail; it seems a little… pedestrian for your taste,” he then added as a comment, though honestly it was less aimed at her specifically and more so about public transit. More accurately, him waiting on public transit.

A grin and chuckle followed his responses. “Haha, careful aren’t we? I don’t bite, dear,” She said, seemingly amused by his caution. Though, she wasn’t devoid of her own. She simply didn’t shield it with stoicism.

“Well, I suppose I am a tad slow for a Hoshi, hm? Though I’ll take being likened to a princess as penance for being compared to a tortoise. Shall we?” Elly replied with a nod, prompting them to start their walk.

“Or perhaps, you were less referring to it not suiting a princess than it not befitting a prince,” The meister added with a small smirk that spoke as to what she really thought.

”I’m no royalty,” Midori responded quickly, and somewhat sharply. The Hoshi were often well-regarded in the DWMA, but within the Hoshi there existed a clear hierarchy of importance. Midori was about as low as one could get; unless he was somehow crippled, he could really go no lower. Prince wasn’t a title he was really worthy of.

As to the rest of her comment, he could only spit out a slight scoff. ”Perhaps not with your teeth,” he said, making sure to twist those very words she used against him. ”But sure, you can be the princess of the tortoises. I’m sure they’ll regale you in emerald dresses and aquatic gems,” he added, this time his tone at the least shifting to less cutting and almost jovial in how he was poking fun at her.

With that, he quite theatrically waved his hands Northward in the direction of the Duchess and announced, ”Princesses first, right?”

Elly eyed him as he jabbed back, however her words nor tone never shifted to that of displeasure. Honest displeasure, at least. She did feign a pained heart and hurt feelings, however it was clearly drawn out and exaggerated to express that his words didn’t aggrieve her. “Ohh, so mean~” She chimed while she walked. “I can’t believe my partner would bully me so~ You should know enough about me to know that I’m no royalty either, but I’d like to think I’m at least above a tortoise, and their nobility.”

He was quite different from Sage, that was for sure. Sage carried no bite towards her, nor caution. He wanted some bloodshed, but otherwise was quite subservient. This one, though, was from quite a secretive culture. Additionally, he was an autonomous weapon and a mentor in the program, so the amount of weight Elly carried in their partnership was hardly as in her favor as with Sage.

“Though it is nice to see that you can have some fun, Mr. Serious,” Elly remarked.

”In my defense,” Midori replied as he opted to walk alongside her, specifically keeping to the exterior of the street–something he picked up from most of his escorts, ”I was in fact flown out from Japan and told I would need to keep an eye on you agents in the field.”

”Try not to take this the wrong way, but I perhaps rather would have stayed home for a while,” he explained to her. There was some truth in that. He wasn’t exactly keen on returning, even less so with a partner notorious for manipulation via her feminine wiles and vivacious wordplay.

It was a short walk from here, so there was a little more time for small talk–if it suited them.

”And, last I checked, the tortoise did beat the hare. So unless you have an affinity for rabbits, perhaps being a tortoise isn’t such a bad thing,” he told her, reminding her of the old parable.

Elly feigned surprise at that. “On me?” She asked followed by a mock gasp.

She supposed, in some ways, it was more liberating having someone like Midori. He had her whole file to look over, but while that meant she had less cards in her hand, that also meant she had less ground to maintain.

“It’s natural, isn’t it? That’s your home, so I’m sure you would be more comfortable in Japan than a half-crippled city on the other side of the world,” Elly addressed with what seemed to be genuine understanding, perhaps a dig at her own situation.

While she left of her own volition, it was an act of necessity rather than want, and while she seemed to always wear a mask of some kind, one had to wonder about the supposed friends and family she left behind through the entire process of getting here. Surely, even one as cold and calculating as her had to care about some of those things, at least slightly.

“Slow and steady wins the race… at least, if you were to decide to take a nap enroute to the destination,” Elly replied with a wink. “Quick and cautious, there can be a balance.”

”Quick and cautious isn’t bad, I suppose,” he responded, musing over her selection of words there. The parable he referenced was less about speed and more about determination and perhaps pride. Neither really were relevant to their conversation as it was. ”Though, we prefer blazing fast and extreme precision. Easier to slit a throat of the blade is already through the skin before your target realizes it,” he told her, casually and confidently discussing the murderous nature of his family.

A turn down the street and just a few blocks down was the Duchess. Odd to see it in the daylight; even if the sun was on its way to set. The club was primarily a place you would go amidst the night or at least late evening.

”I wouldn’t call the city half-crippled. It’ll probably be patched up before the end of the month with defenses twice that of what it had,” he explained to her, intentionally ignoring her wink and bubbly nature to delve into his pragmatic side. He had some knowledge of how the upper echelon in the city intended to make it more defensible, but to him, it only made sense.

”If that same attack happened in May, I’d wager it would fail,” he said, again with no lack of confidence in how the city and DWMA would bounce back.

“That’s fair, but where’s Plan B, C, and D?” Elly inquired in response, a lesson from her own family. The speed and technique of the Hoshi were legendary, however you were only right until you weren’t, and you were only successful until you failed.

“Perhaps, though I’m sure there was much confidence in the previous defenses. Not to mention, while the city rebuilds and upgrades, why would our adversaries not advance in much the same way?” Elly proposed with her own pragmatism. “Whether it fails also depends on what their aim is. If their intention was to cull the city or for it to fall completely, then I dare say they have failed. However, if they wanted to hit morale, then I believe they have succeeded to a great degree.”

Midori slowed down his rather quick pace for a moment. Something Elly said did merit a response that required a more emphatic answer. ”Elly, listen. When you call on a Hoshi, it’s because you want someone or something dead. Sometimes, we engage in espionage or theft, sure, but we’re assassins. We don’t just send anyone out for the kill. We send the best suited person for the kill,” he explained to her, being quite direct with how he answered this.

”If your Plan A is perfect, there’s no need for a Plan B, C, or D,” he told her. He knew it sounded stupid, but it was the way of his clan for generations and it worked. They would stake out a target for weeks or months to secure the quickest, cleanest kill if need be. Measure twice, cut once; that was said in carpentry. Measure a thousand times, strike once; that was the way of an assassin.

”A similar train of thought applies to the defense of this city. Whoever attacked us, they did so with various methods, and it seemed they had various goals. The problem with that type of attack is that we can learn from each way they attacked us and prepare for it. The chances of them finding another dozen ways to assault the city that we have no answer for is slim,” Midori continued to explain, still quite confident and fervent about his belief in this. Though, it was becoming a little more apparent his opinion did not stem from blind support of the DWMA, but instead deeply taught tradition within the Hoshi.

”There is a reason the Hoshi work so hard on creating the perfect plan the first time–every time. If we fail, subsequent attempts will become much more difficult. That’s true of everything. Just as a lone assassin failing in his first attempt may make a second impossible, attacking the city a second time like the first would be exponentially more difficult,” he said, rounding out his explanation and tying it all together with the customs of his clan.

"So a Hoshi has never failed in their mark?" Elly probed with a raised brow. "I don't say this to undermine you or your family, dear. I quite admire that attention to detail and focus that you propose. However, I’m quite sure you understand what I’m getting at.”

There was no such thing as a 100% certainty rate or a foolproof plan. One could not take into account every potential factor that may come into play. Additionally, one only knew what they knew. Who was to say as to what they didn’t?

“Plan A should be tackled as if it is the only one available, of that we are in agreement. However, you cannot possibly account for every possible variable, known or otherwise. That is why the other plans exist. If all goes according to plan–excellent~! However, if not, then it is but an inconvenience,” She added on with a smile. “As to the city, you have a point, but only in the regard of a like minded attack. Countermeasures for a strategy can be crafted, however Death City cannot prepare itself for an assault it did not know was an option. Even if its guard stands tall now, watching vigilantly for signs of another, such tension dissipates with time. Would an attack next month succeed? I would certainly hope not. What of in… five, ten, twenty years?”

Posing that rhetorical question, her thought process was clear. A well thought out initial plan was imperative, but if one was so dependent on it that they could not bend and flow with the current, then the current would break them.

“Again, I’m not slighting your work ethic. I rather appreciate it. Just remember to be flexible as well, mm?”

”If you want the absolute honest truth,” Midori told her, remaining fairly stoic, and in this case a little cold, ”if we don’t secure the kill, our only concern is ecape. We value our lives too much to even make an effort if we don’t have all the cards stacked in our favor.”

”Of course, I’ve worked in a few partnerships before. Not everything is an assassination, so there is some flexibility. But,” he continued on, stopping not only his sentence there, but his stride. At a complete stop, his half-lidded, dark eyes fell upon her. His tone was opposite to hers; flat and lacking any real characteristics. He did not mirror her bubbly, positive personality. He did not smile as she did. He was a statue when dealing with her, mostly because he couldn’t tell what about her was real and fake.

”That is likely why you and I work. We are cowards at heart. The Hoshi rarely fail and rarely take on a mission we don’t believe we can complete,” he explained to her, expanding on a description that fit both of them. ”If the mission has too many risks, if a target can’t be killed cleanly, or if we have failed before, we don’t take it. We let someone else try. We let other agents take the risks and the losses that come with them,” he told her, continuing to explain the mentality of the Hoshi.

”The Hoshi above all else will live to kill another day–we don’t care about the credit or glory. If someone else can do the job better with brute force, so be it,” he reiterated, ”and I don’t think you’re much different. Do you really care about Plan B, C, and D as long as we can escape with our lives? Because quite frankly, you strike me as someone just as quick to run as I am.”

“Oh?” Elly hummed as her own steps stopped. Looking back with the same bemused expression as he spoke. However, as he talked one, her expression shifted subtly to one of more neutrality. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion until he reached his end point, at which she only held the silence briefly before her expression turned chipper again. “Haha~ You make not wanting to die sound so terrible~.”

Speaking in a sing-song voice again, she was back to normal, or her normal mask perhaps. That much was true, the Hoshi methodology was something she could abide by. Priority one was survival, above all else. Of course, surviving was different than living. If Elly just wanted to survive, she could live off in the woods somewhere, alone, with no one to bother or threaten her. No, she was a “princess”, after all.

“I suppose you’re not very far off the mark. There’s no harm in admitting that; you’ve read up on me after all,” Elly admitted, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning from one side to the other as she spoke. “However, while I certainly do not want to die, I also must make myself useful. I do believe I’m in something of a hotseat at the moment.”

”How do you seduce men as your profile claims when you sound like a Pixar character?” he asked, his squinted eyes staring at her slightly as her tone did start to grate him. Either way, with a quick shake of his head, he changed his own subject,”Anyway,” he moved on.

”They care less about how productive you are and more about what you produce,” he explained to her, his eyebrows raising almost with an accusatory nature, ”If you pick up what I’m putting down.”

Midori then opted to start walking forward again. They were close anyway, and he didn’t feel like they were going to reach some epiphany with this conversation. They had already agreed to work together days ago. He had no intention on breaking that agreement short of her doing something incredibly egregious.

”I will fight as you wish; you are the Meister,” he told her, conceding that they could approach problems however she felt necessary. ”What I won’t do is walk into a situation I cannot escape from. If I see a death trap, I’ll transform, leave, and pray you have the sense not to go in alone,” he explained to her, outlining the conditions of his compromise.

Elly looked at him with a slight pout, accentuated by a precise tilt of her head. “So cruel… and after I went through the trouble of dressing up too…” She cooed in disappointment as her posture straightened and a bemused sneer took over the puppy eyes. “I can do monotonous too, if that’s more your cup of tea~”

Elly left whether that was a joke or not up to him and waited for him to start walking again as she strolled next to him. “Duly noted, though I don’t plan on getting myself killed,” She assured before covering her mouth with the end of her fingers as a cheshire grin formed beneath it. “Though it is nice to know that you’d miss me.. Here I thought you didn’t care.”

The woman was no altruist or hero, nor would she pretend to be.

”My cup of tea is sincerity,” Midori responded to her. This time, there was an actual touch of humanity in his voice. A slight spike in his pitch. An actual emotion behind those words. Elly tried so very hard, but tried for what? Is this what she thought people wanted? What she thought men wanted? Did others find this attractive and did she find tools in that attraction? She had to have at one point. He couldn’t imagine she made it terribly far doing what she did without a purpose behind every action.

”I was in the Paean Program, you know. I have my own checkered past. While it is against my better judgment to give you any ammunition, there may be value in both of us having some knowledge on the other,” he told her, calming down slightly from his previous comment.

”I believe that is the problem here. To be blunt, it feels like you are trying incredibly hard. It is not that you are unattractive or that your dress does not suit you, but… more so that your behavior seems befitting of a model looking to become a trophy wife to the first draft picks of the NBA,” he explained to her, really just cushioning his explanation of how he felt she was acting entirely fake.

”I do not mean to offend you, but consider my perspective. Does it not make sense that I guard more when it seems like you want something?” he asked her, cutting his speech short once he realized they were near the line for entry. It would likely be his last chance to present such a deep or nuanced question.

“How do you know I’m not being sincere?” Elly replied with a simple smile, though she didn’t expect that to convince him. No, that was just another prod. “Do you know what the most believable lie is?”

Giving pause for a few moments, either allowing him the chance to respond or see if he would wait for her answer, she went on.

“One veiled in truth. Difficult as it may be for you or anyone who reads my file to believe, I don’t very often lie. Perhaps what I say contains an omission or an ulterior motive at times, however, most of what I say holds truth to it,” She said, seemingly giving him some of that sincerity he had asked for. “To go back and address that other point. What was it my file said? I have a habit of seducing men whilst sounding like a Pixar character? Like a siren? I’ll admit, that’s the first I’ve heard of this.”

While she held her confident smile, her voice lacked the animated undertones in her speech. Still roundabout with a lot of verbiage thrown in, but more serious as it seemed whilst still appearing “happy”.

“At risk of sounding like I have an ego, I know I have a pretty face. Sure, I dolled myself up a bit to go out, and I tease you about that glacier wall you have up and around yourself, but am I really trying to seduce you dear?” Elly asked pointedly, indicating this was a question she actually wanted an answer from. “I think the fact that I don’t outright rebuff someone who shows an interest or leave a few doors open hardly makes me some seductress… as to your question…”

Trailing off at that, Elly increased her pace a bit and turned to look him in the eyes while continuing her movement backwards. “Wouldn’t it be more rational to worry about what I want rather than that I want something? You know infinitely more about myself than I do about you, but if you want to know something specific, you can ask. The worst that will happen is that I don’t answer. After all, I don’t bite with my teeth, as you said.”

Those dual-colored eyes of his never wavered in how they watched her as she answered him. Whether it was true or not, he believed something about his comments were getting under skin. Part of him enjoyed that. The idea of seeing a more true side to her. Chipping away at that outer shell of hers until he got a glimpse at what she was really like.

Perhaps she was right. Jest or not, perhaps he was cruel. Maybe she wanted to be this sing-song girl starting a new life in a new place with some modicum of safety. It was possible. It just wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

He had been burned before, so those eyes of his only continued to judge her. Every word she said was analyzed. How she said them. They way she wove them together into sentences. Even how she bounced back his words at him. It all fell prey to the judgment of this Hoshi Clansman..

”You’re right,” he responded, now imitating that sing-song voice she had just a moment ago. It seemed they would continue this discussion before going in, so he opted to play it out. ”Why, miss Keegan, I do know so very little about what you want,” he mused. He shrugged his shoulders and offered her a warm smile, his own light-skinned face brightening as the laugh lines that formed around his cheeks curled up for the first time since their meeting at the train station.

”Now, you know I can’t just go telling you every little thing about your dossier, but don’t pout because of that,” he told her, ”it certainly doesn’t describe you as some Pixar character, pixie, or damsel in distress, I assure you. Mostly, it emphasizes your skills. How good you are at certain things.” His explanation mostly removed the injection she made of sarcasm and replaced it with an insight, aimed at her charisma.

”All of this? It’s mostly me, really,” he told her, his now musical tone almost sinister in how he was taking accountability for his behavior. ”You see, I’ve been burned by women plenty. Your coy ways, how you wink, bat your eyes, smile so bright. How you can lie while telling the truth, and weave a truth into a lie. Oh, I’m familiar with it all, unfortunately…” he said, as if reciting these dastardly things as poetry.

”Words are hard to trust,” he said, shifting his high pitch to a lower one, and slowing down his speech. This was the crux of what he wanted to tell her. ”Actions form your habits. Habits form your character. I will trust the character behind those words once I see with my own eyes what actions define you. Until then, I see no reason to treat your words as more than that of… well, a siren,” he told her, his tone equalizing but still more serious than he was with his musical tirade.

But then, he was back at it. ”I won’t be burned or bitten again over a pretty face and a willful soul,” he told her, musiing again and shifting right back to the same tone she used on him. If imitating was the sincerest form of flattery, Midori could have been accused of downright flirtation. ”I don’t see how it matters if I’m a glacier or a thespian. Would you rather tolerate the act or the cold?” he asked her, emphasizing verb use in his sentences. It wasn’t bubbly, but it certainly was theatrical.

The sudden shift in tone was a surprise, though the woman wouldn’t allow it to show. She watched him with a neutral, curious expression as he seemed to imitate her. Her eyes drifted from his face, to his mannerisms, and even to his soul as his act carried on. There was truth in every lie and exaggeration.

Despite his theatrical overplaying, she didn’t doubt some of his words. She believed he had been scorned, just as she believed how her profile “emphasized her skills”, or the dangers associated with her.

She let him finish completely, posing the likely rhetorical question to her. However, Elly simply smiled. “Sincerely?” She asked as to the veracity of his question. “A smile suits you more than a scowl.” And to be extra annoying, she briefly poked his nose with the tip of her index finger.

She didn’t disagree with much of what he said honestly. Actions were more important than someone’s words, though you could glean a lot from the latter. Elly had prided herself on being able to discern more than most from that skill, and using her abilities to make up the difference.

“That is a safe approach. I would not expect you to trust me, except to do what is in my best interest. I simply presumed that you would prefer pleasantries as opposed to silence and business-only talk in the meantime while you figured that out,” Elly replied, her verbiage slightly more coarse, however her tone no more aggressive or disheartened. “However, even though you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you. What I want is quite mundane, really. I want… to live comfortably.”

Giving a bit of a theatrical pause before the unremarkable wish was made known, the woman shrugged. “I don’t see that as particularly sinful. I don’t want to be shivved, or shot, or stabbed in the back. I want a nice house, in a good neighborhood, with a lovely cafe around the corner, and not have to prepare for… say… an assassin to pay me a visit or check my car for a bomb before I drive it.”

Elly gave him a knowing smile. Whether the assassin in question referred to him, or generally remained to be seen. However, if he did read through her dossier, he would likely have an inkling as to what that referred to.

Midori, plainly, just didn’t buy it. Maybe Elly thought she meant what she said. Maybe she sincerely thought that joining the DWMA to hide away from her family or absolve her sins would lead to a good life. He knew better, though. That’s not what happened to Agents. She wanted more. She had to. Joining the DWMA and that happy, quaint little life she described were nearly incompatible.

There was also a specific word choice she made. Something that to his very core made her entire speech something he rejected as true. In no world could see her and believe her ultimate goal was mundane. Eloise Keegan simply wasn’t a mundane type of girl. Her use of that word was no different than when someone snuck the word ‘but’ into an apology. It made the entire thing bullshit.

”I would suggest you keep your nose clean and worry less about mine,” he told her, shifting back to his more cynical tone. He wasn’t particularly fond of how she just opted to invade his space and tap his nose, but he wasn’t about to make a scene out of it. Like it or not, she was the one to be wielding him. Her hands were fated to fall on him.

”While I’m sure we could exchange these.. pleasantries all day,” he told her, warming up with a touch of that musical tone she complimented just moments ago, ”we do have a party to attend. I don’t believe for a moment you sincerely want that quiet suburban life, but I’m not going to let that ruin our time,” he added, making it clear he didn’t quite buy her answer in a fairly whimsical way.

With that, he offered her his arm with his elbow creased ever-so slightly, the typical hold many couples or pairings used. It wasn’t quite platonic, but it did make a statement. ”A unified front is a stronger one, even if only in appearance. We can bicker in private, but in public, I’d rather not seem weak and disjointed,” he told her, taking even a social event like this quite seriously.

Elly giggled at his warning, ultimately hooking her own arm to his. “I’m sure you don’t. After all, who’s to say which of my words have been truthful or not?” She posed, knowing all too well that her actions and speech were under severe scrutiny. The woman didn’t spite him for that specifically. It was the smart route, and one she undertook often. “I suppose we can have our conversation another time—or you can simply wait and see what my actions entail, hm?”

”Time reveals all, Elly,” Midori answered her, though it was cryptic and in all honesty, not really an answer. ”One way… or another,” he added, only further giving her a non-answer of an answer.

With that, the two were checked by the bouncer at the front and given instructions to visit the VIP area. Midori led the way with Elly in tow. The club itself despite having forty or so people in it felt vacant. It was a huge area where typically hundreds of people gathered per night. It’s maximum capacity was something like eight-hundred or so, and while cramped, it was still possible to get through those crowds.

As he thought about it, it probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world to give a bunch of Fate Agents a good amount of space from each other in such an unfamiliar and potentially triggering place. Not to mention, he noted some of the magically inclined Fate Agents present. Given the hostility some agents still had towards them, it only doubled down on the practicality of this space.

Up the stairs and now to see Annika–whom he had not really met–at the bar with Nadia, Dani, and Adrian all around some couches. It seemed this little group was slowly growing. It had been some time since he had seen some of them. In fact, Adrian was the only one he really knew; everyone from his old team was basically gone. Zari and Jarvis absconded and Adra was with Zosar back in Japan.

A tinge of disappointment hit him upon realizing that. As if he had failed as a mentor. Not that he would let it show. Even Elly, his Meister, through touch wouldn’t be picking up on that through his silent soul.

”It’s been some time,” Midori said, edging himself into the conversation. He would have normally added in something here, some off-color comment about how all the fun happened while he was gone. Was it in poor taste? Absolutely. Would he have done it anyway? You bet.

But, he heard V mention something about Annika being allowed in Davis labs, and that piqued his interest. ”How did you get that stick-in-the-mud to let you in the labs? He doesn’t even do tours,” Midori asked out of an odd but genuine curiosity.

“Haha, Annika left quite the impression on him,” Elly chipped in briefly, but otherwise left it to the other girl to answer.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Twelve Pages of Awkward​

Tags EmperorsChosen

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April 10th, 2067​

It was hardly an hour after the killing blow on Pinia that the entire attack came to an end, at least insofar of clearing out all of the threats from the DWMA itself. The Fate Agents had no direct role in that. Not that they should have; most of them were spent from their battles in Death City. Regardless, once the threat level was deemed low, the next step was simple: triage. Death City and the DWMA itself were on lockdown with reinforcements trickling in. It made it fairly safe for even civilian medics and doctors to begin helping.

Adrian and Dani were both given a triage level 3 with a star denotation. Their injuries were severe, but not life threatening. The star indicated they were agents instead of civilians. Simple system. Triage really needed to be given the sheer concept of a mass casualty system. In the time the two spent in the large, canvas tent waiting for their treatment, plenty of level 1’s became black tags and level 2s transitioned to level 1’s. The fact their treatment was entirely expedient made sense: others were outright dying or getting close to it.

Eventually, though, they would be treated. In the case of Dani, that included cleaning the wound, verifying there was no debris, and some suturing. A slight complication in her case was that slivers of the slug that hit her were in fact still inside the dorsal portion of her interior leg, requiring a slight surgical incision to remove. Even then, the damage to muscle tissue was minimal and no major arteries were hit. Rest, protein, and some therapy at the hospital in a pool or with their healing stations to ramp up cellular division would have her back in no time, and with minimal scarring.

Adrian was in a similar boat. No debris within him, but they did try to pull back the layers of internal tissue that were stabbed through. While no organs were damaged, his abdominal muscles were worse off than what Dani had received. His treatment would be similar, but more drawn out and his restrictions greater. Granted, his injury had higher risk whereas Dani was more debilitating at first, being the leg. Luckily, those healing chambers would do wonders once they were back up and running.

Had any of this damaged bone or vessels, the situation would be much more dire.

With their respective treatments completed, Dani and Adrian would be taken to an entirely different set of tents for the agents that had been involved in the conflict. Many of them were isolated for further testing in the event some type of biological or other non-conventional methods of assault were used. None were, but the precaution was present. Given the two were literally involved in the same series of fights, their isolation was put together.

Half-drugged and numbed from their procedures in their impromptu infirmary tent, waiting to be extracted to proper beds, the two were now the only people they knew in a slew of other wounded people around them. Most either unconscious or in worse shape than they were. It wasn’t precisely loud, but there was a consistent bustling of busy people going in and out keeping this triage working like a well-oiled machine.

His vision a touch blurry, but still mostly aware of what was going on, Adrian rolled his sore neck over to look at Dani from across the short distance of their beds. He too had an IV in him, dripping a standard set of electrolyte fluids into his vein. A short groan emanated from him before he finally willed his body to speak. ”I didn’t even know you got hurt…” he said aloud.

It took Dani a few moments to process that the words were directed at her. Perhaps it was due to the drugs or simple lethargy, or a mixture. After a few moments, her head turned slightly on its pillow to look at him. Her arm lifted to lazily point at her leg.

“Fuckin’ robots that were supposed to help us…” Dani replied with a drawn out sigh. “‘Sides… I turned metal right after.”

Looking at him, he seemed in worse shape to her, for a multitude of reasons. Though, he was still there, and wasn’t dying like she was sure some of the others in the tents were. The drugs brought her down, but the whole environment was just morbid. It made her want to go home and bury herself in her own bed. Even though she was dead tired, Dani couldn’t rest here.

“They said it’ll be fine… You look worse than I do,” She added.

”Well…” he replied, trailing off before he could really formulate the words. They really were put through the gauntlet there. The dolls. Then the golems. Then witches.He reflected on it for a moment. There sure was a lot of fuckery going on all at once. If his brain wasn’t so foggy, he’d wonder how. To his brain, those three things all seemed too different to be connected.

But, he snapped out of it, and returned to reality where Dani was awaiting his response, ”I guess rather me than you.” Short, simple. He wasn’t sure what to add about the golem situation as his fuzzy brain couldn’t piece together his more rational thoughts. Really, if anything, he wished he could have done a better job protecting them. If he didn’t let himself get stabbed, perhaps he would have been fast enough to block that bullet.

Dani stared at him for a few moments after that. A drawn-out silence, eventually followed by a dry remark. “...If I wasn’t tired as shit and if you weren’t banged up I’d smack you,” She said, though her words lacked any aggression in them. “I know that look and tone… Stop it. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me… I’ll take losing a limb before that.”

Her voice was tired and groggy, but it still held enough weight to show she was serious. “...I’m high as shit off all this… but I still remember what you promised. If you break it, I will kick your ass…”

Adrian took in what she said, albeit slowly. He was surprised she remembered his words. He wasn’t actually sure what she remembered and what she didn’t. Nor what she took seriously when he was Mad. In fact, he wasn’t sure just how serious he was when he was in that state. Did he truly mean it all? Was his madness truly some type of honesty? Or, was it just his mind at the time?

”No one wants anyone to get hurt because of them… unless, y’know, we’re actively hunting them, but tha–that’s a whole different thing,” Adrian responded, though stumbling on his words if only slightly. ”It’s just… I don’t know, think about it,” he told her, now thinking it through for himself.

”I’m alone. You’ll do more in the hands of Nadia than I ever will on my own,” he explained, giving her the type of cold, rational thinking that might have came from the words of her partner as opposed to the hot headed bushel of spikes that was Adrian.

”Besides… it’ll take more than a few stabs to get rid of me, and uh… I guess… uh…” he said, trying to figure out how to put what he meant into words and failing at every corner, ”I guess I’d just rather not see you all banged up in a bed. I’d rather you just visit me in mine.”

Dani opened her mouth to speak, but then silenced herself. It wasn’t easy to just tell him not to worry about that. She encountered it before with her brother. Bond Resonance would never be as powerful as regular resonance, so even if they had overcome their madness completely, they would’ve been behind.

“...You saved people I sure as fuck didn’t. Maybe you won’t be strong enough to be Starwulf and his weapon, or Death wielding a Death Scythe. That doesn’t mean that you can’t do things they can’t. It also doesn’t mean that you have to bleed to do something.” His weapon form was different from hers, so he certainly could tank a lot without actually getting hurt, but still.

Letting that sit, Dani let the other words he said process. Normally, she would’ve eyed him or gotten flustered. However, here, after everything else that occurred in the day, after he was dragged back from the brink of madness, it was comforting that he could say such things completely ignorant of how slick it sounded. Dani couldn’t help a smile and a tired laugh.

“...You want me to visit you in your bed…?” She repeated as the snicker continued.

Adrian had something he wanted to respond with. Truly, he did. He didn’t consider the words he chose. He meant in his hospital bed. He meant if he was hurt. He didn’t mean… that. Sure, she probably knew that, but that’s not the point. There was an implication. Adrian, even in his current post-operative state, was still capable of becoming entirely flustered. His sunken, half-dead face and drooped eyes were washed out entirely by the flood of red that came to his face.

”I-Uh… I m-mean,” he stuttered, trying to spit out the words to clarify what he meant. ”My-My hospital bed! I meant I’d rather you visit me in the hospital. Not the other way around!” he said. He might have shouted had he the energy, but he really didn’t.

”Er, I mean… like, neither one of us should, y’know, be in the hospital, but if it had to be one of us…” he said, still trying to add some type of clarity if he could. ”...I’d rather you be visiting me, not the other way around. If I saw you hurt, I might go off and do something stupid,” he told her.

Watching him flounder his way to explain the faux pas was just affirmation that things were back to normal. A subtle tinge of pink colored her cheeks as her chuckling subsided. “...It’s kinda comforting, you freaking out like that…” She admitted with a short chortle.

Letting a silence follow that, Dani spoke after, continuing on from his last statement. “Just for me… huh… Stupid like how?”

It was difficult even for himself to tell what calmed him down more: the time or the confirmation that Dani wasn’t upset by his word choice. Either way, by the time she had come around to her question, he was at least composed enough to bring together words again. Sentences were possible without the stuttering–for the moment.

Though, her question did give him pause. He rarely put thought into what he would do in that type of situation. More so, he was never really sure what his emotions would drive him to do.

”Uhh…” he said aloud, though it was more of a groan. ”I guess it depends. Like… if someone or something put you there, even if it was something you and Nadia couldn’t handle, I’d try. I’d see red. I’d want it dead. It wouldn’t matter if it was a Witch or three, or Cyrus himself,” he explained to her, giving some insight as to what he meant and the only real niche scenario he could think of.

Another silence followed a bemused huff from Dani. She wasn’t sure why she asked, though a part of her was glad she heard the answer. Perhaps it was because, somewhere, part of her was hoping for an answer like that. Noah’s and Nadia’s teasing wasn’t lost on her, and now certainly wasn’t the time to sift through her emotions.

But, it still made her happy in a way. She could settle for acknowledging that much for now.

“Even that dandy fuck… huh…” She mused with another short, raspy chuckle. “Sorry if I’m asking you stupid questions… If you get tired and want to sleep… you can just ignore me.”

Dani was quite the confusing girl at times. Huffs there. Smiles there. A touch of venom in her tone, yet times where she was soft and kind. It left Adrian wondering if she was hard to read for anyone, or if it was just his own poor skills. She left him with thoughts like that all the time. Or, at the very least, every time they interacted.

”Your questions aren’t stupid… they just make me think,” Adrian told her. His voice wasn’t so raspy, but it was quiet. Perhaps it might be worse if he spoke up, but unless he was stumbling over his words, he tried to maintain a low volume.

”If I might ask another, uh… stupid question…” he transitioned onward, still reflecting on some of the things she said. ”Why is it comforting when I uh… can’t find the words or like.. freak out, like you say,” he asked, disjointed again as he wasn’t sure if ‘freaking out’ was quite what he was doing, yet didn’t feel the need to disagree over it.

“Hm?” Dani murmured looking over to him. When he finished his question, her head rotated back to stare up at the roof of the tent. ”Ah, that…”

Pausing as if wondering how to word it, she then proceeded. “Just after everything… after the madness, the golems, the death… you freaking out because of your unintended pick-up lines is normal... I guess. Or it’s like things are okay now, if that makes sense…” She said with a shrug. “...It’s kinda cute too…”

If Adrian was anything at this point, it was predictable. In this case, it wasn’t necessarily being called cute as much as it was the comment about unintended pick-up lines. In a way, it brought about this tinge of guilt. He knew that character archetype from many games, and quite often, they were deplorable. It wasn’t precisely who he wanted to be. There wasn’t a distaste coming from that mental image as much as it was embarrassing to think of himself that way.

He was getting somewhat accustomed to this reaction, though. At least, from Dani. Over time, his comfort level with being mildly uncomfortable had risen.

”I don’t… mean to say things like that… it’s just hard,” he told her, his voice just a little more hushed than normal. ”I mean to say one thing, like I’ll protect you, or I’d rather be the one hurt instead of you, and it comes out as… something else,” he explained, ”and then it gets worse, ‘cause if I deny it, then it just sounds like an insult.”

”It’s like… I don’t mean to say you aren’t pretty or funny or smart… but I feel like that’s how it comes off, and that’s just mean–and not true,” he told her, admitting he was most worried about insulting people than anything. In the cases he didn’t obviously mean to.

Another blush tinted her cheeks at that. It seemed genuine compliments were her weakness so to speak. “...I kind of get that by now. I don’t think you’re insulting me or taking it any bad way,” Dani assured him. “I don’t even think I’m much of those three things… Not like I could be mad if you didn’t.”

She could think of a few in the program alone that outranked her in those categories. Dani didn’t think she was bad looking, but any accolades for her appearance would be rejected once she opened her mouth. She wasn’t all that dumb nor intelligent, and she couldn’t remember cracking a joke in years, so how could she be funny?

“...and I know you’re not some fuckboy who would just say that stuff unironically to people. Just catches me off guard sometimes…” Dani added with a pause. “...I think the only reason I’m this calm now is because of the drugs…Otherwise I’d be a mess too probably.”

Adrian was too far gone himself to notice such a subtle blush. If he had, his own might have darkened. If anything, he was mostly content that Dani didn’t take his comments as hurtful. He wasn’t sure if she took them to heart, but that didn’t matter to them. He just didn’t intend on upsetting her. Adrian didn’t like to hurt anyone he didn’t have to.

He considered what she said. Enough to allow an odd silence to fill the air. Perhaps give the impression that he had passed out. But, no, no he didn’t. He was just having problems parsing what she said. Whenever that happened in just about any situation, he had developed the habit of just… admitting it.

”Sometimes, you don’t make sense, Dani,” he told her, saying at least the core thought that came to his mind.

As silence filled the air, Dani softly exhaled and rested her head further into the pillow. She stared up at the tenting before shutting her eyes, thinking Adrian had fallen asleep. So it did catch her by surprise when he suddenly spoke. Her eye fluttered open as her head turned to look at him again.

“...Don’t make sense how…?” She asked in turn. Dani didn’t see herself as particularly complex or deep, and more often than not she was blunt.

”You said you don’t think you’re much of those three things,” Adrian responded, expecting this type of answer once he had said it. He realized he somewhat railroaded the conversation that way, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

”I see you laugh and joke with Nadia plenty. She laughs back. It must be funny. And, like… I don’t know your grades or how you are as a partner, but you can resonate and fight well with Nadia, so… I don’t know, you may not be some prodigal child, but you can’t be stupid. Not many in this program can resonate,” he explained, providing her his thoughts on the very things she questioned about herself. He did hold a different perspective.

”Now uh… for that last thing… I guess that’s why they say it’s up to the eye of the beholder, yeah? Maybe you just don’t see what I–er.. other people do,” he told her, trying to skirt around that point specifically.

Dani paused at what he said. Out of everything, she didn’t expect that to be what he didn’t understand. She always struggled with coming up with a response like this. Any flirt or playboy with pickup lines she could roll her eyes at. However, simple and genuine just threw a wrench in the cogs.

“...N-Nadia and I aren’t a benchmark… She likes beating the crap out of things and busting through walls…” Dani said, resorting to deconstructing the compliments rather than just taking them. “...I’m still not all that smart… and I don’t know any of those other people…”

Her remarks were bashful, but concealed by the hoarseness of her voice. She cleared her throat before continuing on.

“...Sure… I-I’m all pink and shit and someone may think that’s cute… but then my wavelength flares, or I get pissed off, or just open my mouth and that goes out the fuckin’ window…” She explained.

Adrian let out his own dry chuckle at her. If this is what it was like for her when he stumbled, then he could see why she found it amusing. It was cute, in its own way. As long as Adrian himself wasn’t floundering.

”Y’know… I don’t know if uh, you’ve thought of this… but maybe it’s not the whole pinkness and figure and stuff that someone would like…” he said of the heel of his small chuckle. He decided to take a bit of a risk here and actually put something else forth instead of just stumbling around in the dark. ”What if it’s those flares? Or the temper… like, a moth to a flame, yeah? When you care about something, you don’t hide it; it’s like a giant bonfire. If it makes you angry, you let people know. But, uhm… sometimes when you care, it’s not that giant fireball, but it’s still can like.. Draw someone in…” he explained, not the best work, but he wasn’t precisely a smooth-talker.

Dani’s narrowed gaze turned to him, her face still slightly flush. However, what he proposed left her mouth slightly agape in surprise. Of all things, why would that be the attractor? Those were, to Dani, her worst points. The anger and rage were something she only recently began to accept as part of her, and even if they could be used to positive effects, such emotions weren’t often colorized by words such as beauty.

“...W-Why would the—flares be what people like? …I wanted to kill everyone on the first day, I was halfway to shivving Noah and Gauss in class… I-I straight-up was going to kill that magic twink in the arena, I—” Dani began sputtering out rejections to that logic. “...Now you aren’t making sense…”

Adrian found himself chuckling yet again, this time significantly louder than the first. How she rejected what he told her, for one, he found funny. She couldn’t accept even his most meager attempt at a compliment. It really wasn’t that, though. It was more that everything she described was in a way exactly what he meant.

”Oh heaven’s me, that’s terrible! I cain’t buh-lieve that would happen to ya, darlin’. Bless yer soul…” he said out loud, clearly imitating the accent of a southern belle. His impression was fairly solid, including the higher pitched, feminine tone.

”Some people say or show how they care about things super obvious,” he followed up, returning to his normal tone. ”Maaaybe… you’re quick to the stabby-stabby answer. Some things just annoy you. But, sometimes when you get angry, it’s because you care about something a lot. It’s like… a different language. You just gotta listen close enough,” he explained to her, still trying to give some insight as to what he meant.

”’Sides… we all get angry. We all think those things sometimes…” he told her. ”I know I do,” he admitted.

”It’s just like… I don’t know. It’s comforting to appreciate that side in someone else knowing you have it, too. Like… like it’s not impossible for someone to like you. Or, I guess.. Like for me to even like myself,” he explained, coming full circle with his train of thought.

“Oh… fuck you…” Dani said with a long sigh, though it sounded more like a light jab than aggressive. Listening on to the rest of what he said, she still didn’t quite get it. On the one hand, she did. The only reason she went that far with Raph was because he insulted her brother, for instance. She got angry with Adrian because she was afraid he would go out the same way. “... I dunno… It seems different with you…”

Thinking on how to express that, Dani took some time to parse her words before attempting to explain. “Sometimes I do get angry because I’m protective… but other times, it’s just that people piss me off. That’s the shit I have to be on guard with… You though, even when you had that madness shit, you were still trying to protect people, you were still worried. I… I just get tunnel-visioned and obsessed about breaking the damn thing—whatever it is,” She said with an exasperated sigh. “There’s no bullshit with you or drama… you’re actually funny and good-looking, and you’re less likely to go to the stabby-stabby answer. That sounds like a better pick than me.”

Adrian wasn’t off-put by the response Dani gave. At least, to the fuck you part of it. It was everything that followed. Embarrassing, yes. Confusing, yes. It forced him to think about things in a different way to try and soak it in. She told him there was no drama, but he went mad. Isn’t that drama? Isn’t that bullshit, too? His solution for most problems was stab it with his spike. He was pretty stabby-stabby.

She said she got tunnel-vision. He did, too. Sort’ve. He had to focus so hard on maintaining his spikes and controlling his transformations that he had to limit distractions. Sometimes those ‘distractions’ were actually important, and going without them led to disaster. He was never really obsessed like Dani said she was, but still, he got so caught up in the moment that he lost sight of things.

Above all, though, she was right about one thing. He wanted to protect. He didn’t always. At a time, he was just super competitive. Determined to do something with his life. He demanded that he make this whole agent thing work despite everything that wasn’t in his favor. He faced adversity at every step and thrived in it. His drive to protect grew out of realizing all that he had lost along the way, and guilt over hurting others. He refused to do that again.

She made him think about this. She didn’t demand it. She didn’t tell him to. She wasn’t like the dozens of tutors and teachers, senior agents, therapists, so on and so forth. She didn’t care if he thought about these things, and if she did, she wasn’t making it part of her agenda. She just said it, and he listened.

It was simple. Except for the compliments. He wasn’t sure how to handle being told he was good-looking back to back, or the comment about being funny in the middle of an otherwise serious conversation. That part is why his face turned so vibrant each and every time the words escaped her lips.

”Well… I do really like the stabby-stabby answer.. But uh, our bosses keep telling me I can’t just stab everyone. That, and sometimes I literally can’t. Zari kicked my ass a hundred times over and I couldn’t even touch Midori…” he told her, reminiscing over some of the highlights of his recent past.

”I guess that’s not really your point,” he said, acknowledging how he got off topic. Though, in this case, he was stalling for a bit of time to compose himself. ”There were thousands of people in that park, probably way more… I don’t really know what made me go.. Mad. I was upset over some things, I guess. I mean I know I was, but normally I just deal with it. But then there were all those people getting hurt. Fuck, I didn’t know them from Adam, but there was this moment where I felt like I had no power. I couldn’t stop Zari, I couldn’t stop my brother, I couldn’t stop those dolls. It’s stupid to think I can just stop things like that.. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” he explained, his voice now slowly growing more hoarse as they spoke more and his explanations getting more deep.

”I don’t think it’s about control… ‘cause I can’t control you. I can’t just magically make you stop saying sweet things that make me turn red,” he said, transitioning away from the actual raw depth of the conversation, ”and I’m not even sure if I want to… but I know that they don’t make me want to stab you. Something, maybe, but not stab.”

Dani chuckled a bit at his first response. “See… you are funny…” She affirmed. “Not like I’m much different… The coked-up fuckboi can just wave his hand to keep me from hitting him and—Well, I could probably get the twink but then the dandy would slit my throat, and there sure as Death ain’t anything I can do about him.”

Letting the chuckle stifle from the conversation turning more serious. Dani was familiar with that rabbit hole all too well. A burden on her parents, couldn’t help her brother, half the time couldn’t help herself. It was infuriating. She wished she could just throw a punch or swing her arm and stop it, but she wasn’t a superhero, and she got kicked into the dirt more than a few times for trying.

However, then the conversation turned from melancholy to something else. Something about the way that sentence ended gave her pause. Perhaps she was reading too much into, perhaps the drugs were still just dampening her thought process. “...S-Something…?” She asked, apprehensively.

”Uh… uh.. I don’t know… what’s the opposite of stabby-stabby?” Adrian asked, posing the awkward question after his own verbal fumbling. He realized upon her asking that he not only didn’t have an answer, but left a door open to interpretation. He imagined if he worked a real job, the HR department would be on his heels constantly.

Dani didn’t reply at first, mainly as she wasn’t sure how. Again, she questioned if she was reading too much into his words, or the lack thereof. Regardless, it stunned her nonetheless. She took a lengthy time processing. “Uhm…” Was all that came out at first. “N-Not sure… but… I think I get what you mean…” She said, partially honest and untrue at the same time. A silver lining of the ignorance and naivete was that her admittance of that would likely not be taken for what it actually meant.

Her pause was concerning, but her confirmation provided him some assurance. It didn’t give him any clarity, though, and now he was curious. He had said a lot for himself there, but her response seemed quite focused on just one part of his comment. Well, that and he wasn’t entirely sure who she was talking about when she started listing off people.

Another awkward silence. Or, perhaps this was a normal silence given that seemed to be what they were both oddly comfortable with.

”Is… that just me?” he asked her, wondering if this venture into not stabby-stabby territory was just coming from his end of things. He didn’t think so. She didn’t treat him or speak to him like the others, aside from perhaps Noah. It did leave him wondering, though. ”Like… you know the words better, I think,” he said, now realizing that comment didn’t really fit into what he meant to ask at all. Finally, he tried a different, yet still unsure approach, ”I mean, is that what you want?”

“H-Huh?” Dani murmured in response. His words weren’t particularly loud or direct, but they startled her nonetheless. The drugs efforts to slow her heart rate and sedate her were starting to fail with a mixture of time and the topic of conversation. “I-It isn’t…” Dani said to his first question. The rest she wasn’t even sure how to answer.

“...I… uh…” Was all she could stammer. Dani couldn’t tell if he was genuinely asking her for explanation or if he knew what she thought he was trying to say, let alone deciphering what she actually wanted. She never considered having those kinds of feelings for anyone. The loss that could be suffered still frightened her, even if she had let Nadia in. More people meant more hurt, or at least thats what some part of her psyche warned her. “...I don’t know what I want… It’s kinda nice, but I’m worried about when it gets taken away….”

He was not a savvy man, but even those eyes of his could see something had shaken Dani. He wasn’t completely sure what it was. He was sure it had to do with him or that it was his fault. A tinge of guilt was there, but mostly what he felt was concern. This is the most disjointed he had ever heard Dani be. She didn’t know what she wanted, and that was fair enough, but there was something she reminded him of often enough to be sure it might help.

”I promised you wouldn’t lose me,” he told her, his voice flat this time and fairly matter-of-fact. There was no waver, no hidden joke, no stammer or stutter. It was simple and clean. Adrian might falter with many things, but not that one.

Dani pursed her lips. The fear was still there, but the words gave her some comfort. She wanted them to. She wanted to hear those words and for that to wash away her reservations, but the worry was still there. “...If you can keep that promise… then I can figure out what the fuck I want…” She said with a sigh. “...A-After we’re out of a fucking tent and not drugged up… that is… Next time we meet up…”

Adrian listened. It seemed to him that Dani had been fighting off the meds. Probably difficult to sleep in a place like this, but it seemed she clearly needed it. The sweet escape of sleep sounded great to him, too, but he still hurt too much for that. He would need another dose of whatever they had once he was shipped out to the hospital.

He had no idea what he wanted. But, he was sure of one thing. He wouldn’t break his promise if there was anything he could do about it.

”Well… if you’re sure there will be a next time, I think I can keep watch if you want to rest,” he suggested, thinking perhaps if she felt a little more at ease with someone having her back she could do exactly that: rest.

“...There’ll be a next time… T-That’ll be my promise…” Dani remarked, thankful that she had an out. Consolidating what little of her composure to respond in a way more coherent than a dying computer, even if she couldn’t sleep, she could stop being a stuttering mess for the moment. “Yeah… I think I will. You should get some rest too. I’m not leaving either…”

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Running Back to Reiko​

Tags RedArmyShogun

---

April 3rd, 2067​

It had been only two days since the Fool’s Festival. One might believe Adrian would be doing much better now, but the day prior, he ripped his own stitches attempting to run as hard and long as he normally would–resulting in a trip right back to the ER. The trend of him being his own worst enemy was continuing.

Now that he was hyper-aware that he would need to drastically scale back on his activity, healing was going well enough. Twenty minutes per day at the healing stations within the hospital were boring, but the results were fantastic. The last two days, the hour after those sessions were the least painful of his day.

Now that he was on the right path to getting physically better, F.A.T.E. administration was adamant he worked on making sure he was spiritually sound. At the very least, he was cleared as not a public hazard. He was sane. His madness was tame. Calm Mind training was certainly in order. More immediately, he was to be evaluated to see just how much his brief foray with Madness had affected him, and what his prospects were with training.

Luckily, or unluckily depending on his perspective, for Adrian, he already knew someone that was an expert with Calm Mind training and Madness. Reiko. And, she could evaluate him in the privacy of her own nice home. For what it was worth, the entire estate was left untouched by the attack. Granted, it wouldn’t make any sense for it to be a target.

Adrian made his way to the entrance. It was quite the nice estate, a fully manicured lawn and quite spacious. Some of the niceties he did not notice before, primarily due to his state of mind. She most definitely had a specific taste in mind when building this place. Unless, she bought it this way. The Amazing Star Dojo was built recently like this, but with Death City, it was impossible to tell.

On time and much calmer than in their last encounter, Adrian prepared himself for this meeting. He did truly wish they could have found someone else, but Reiko was apparently a well-regarded expert and already part of the F.A.T.E. program, so this just made sense.

Inhaling deeply, he reached his hand out to the bell that was used for a doorbell. He was only familiar with it due to some of the games he had played. A brass bowl hung inside a wooden frame that when struck would make a ball roll inside of it, ringing out a specific almost shrill sound. Annoying as it was, it was fairly effective despite its size, and it avoided any unnecessary wiring in this obviously quite authentic home.
With the ringing of the bell, it was not too long till it was answered, however it was not Reiko who stood their, but rather her husband, not too surprising, considering the shop did not open till a little later. “Yes?” Looking at the young man, Hiro paused, recalling him from a few nights ago, well it had been more than a few, but it was not the only time he had seen some of that group.

“Ah! Adrian-San. Please come in.” Moving out of the way and offering him passage, the man was quick to shout, “Reiko! Adrian is here to see you!” Or so he safely assumed, prompting a return yell, “Coming!” Once Adrian accepted the offer, it was not too long till the woman was upon them. She was in her black leotard and priestess garb, same as any other time more or less.

“Adrian, an unexpected surprise this early, what can I do for you?”


Adrian stepped in and nodded to Hiro as he strode passed the man. Although, an inkling of knowledge inside the weeb part of his brain looked down and around to see if there was a place to kick off his shoes. Something told him that in a house like this, tracking in with shoes wasn’t exactly the politest thing to do.

Thus, before reaching Reiko, he opted to remove them. Though, he hadn’t moved from his spot once he heard her refer to it as a surprise. He lifted his head up, then cocked it slightly, only to repeat her own word: ”Surprise?” though his tone was more of a question.

A quick follow up acted as an indirect explanation of his repetition. ”I was told you would… uh… evaluate my condition–y’know, after the incident in Spirit Park. Then I guess train me?” he told her, though there seemed to be some amount of confusion on his part.

Smiling at the fact he had the presence of mind to put up his shoes, she gave him a nod. “Indeed, but I did not expect you to seek me out, so much as doing it after the class review. For you to come as you have is a surprise.” Tilting her head a bit she motions for him to follow.

“I am aware this is about Calm mind training, we’ll take it to the Garden, then we shall set out from there. There are some geta for the outdoors, unless you would prefer your normal shoes.” Reflecting on the events that happened while she was away, she waited for Hiro to be out of earshot, returning to the living room.

“There are a few things about the reports of that day that I wonder about, the key areas you struggle in.”

”Uh, the impression I got was to see you immediately,” Adrian explained, noting that the slight discrepancy in timing may have simply been due to his own misinterpretation. Not that it seemed to matter.

Adrian had never used geta. Again, only seen them in games. Part of him was curious about them, so he elected to try a pair for whatever intentions Reiko had in the garden. He was not always a ball of anger. He could be quite curious and in a way childlike when trying new things.

He followed wherever prompted, mostly taking in the details of the home instead of paying direct and undivided attention to Reiko. Not necessarily out of disrespect, more so just that there were a lot of things he was taking in that he was unaccustomed to. This place was less flashy and gaudy than the Amazing Star Dojo, yet had similar style and architecture. He somewhat preferred the simplicity.

”A lot of it is pretty blurry. I only saw one doctor that knew much about Madness and he said that…uh… the mindset I had with those dolls was bad enough it changed my body for a while. I could do things I can’t now, like shoot spikes through the ground, or just make more of them that were longer. Apparently, that’s a big deal,” he told her, thinking that explaining the finer details was what she was after.

”I’m not really sure what you mean by struggle with,” he told her. ”From what I was told, I went on a rampage and destroyed more of those doll things than anyone. I just don’t really remember how,” he added, giving her the impression that he interpreted her question as if he struggled in combat.

“I may intend for a lot of things, but I find with this group it is often better to not be so, hmm, exacting with them.” She says in a way of explanation. While she did send for him and wished to go over the training he would need, she was surprised he had actually committed and came early. Given their last major in person interaction had nearly resulted in him wanting to transfer out.

Watching as he tried on the Geta, she smiled a bit, more so at his looking around the home, as if to study what he could see. It seemed she had underestimated him. “My Husband and I built this during my early days, back during the Hunt… Or rather we had it built. I lived in something akin to this when I was a young girl, simple, Japanese in design, more for practical use than to impress. You’ll find some homes like this in Japan even till this day. Before then my Husband lived in the backroom of his store. I’ll show you around later if you like. Though I’m afraid there isn’t all that much to see, though the Bath and Dojo area may be of interest.”

Turning her attention back to Adrian and she seemed to have been a little off in her words with him. She ultimately did not know if that was a difference in how she understood English or if their personalities were so at odds. Still she would at least try. “To explain your self confidence. Many of the reports from that day made mention of the form your madness took. Though the fact you remember little of destroying the dolls is a bit concerning. It is honestly impressive that you were able to walk back from it.”

Leading him out the back sliding door, the field she often drilled those who would come to her morning classes, she motioned him to follow, this was not the ultimate destination.

“Though you are correct, it is very rare when one’s abilities change in such a way, though I do not think that is necessarily a bad thing. I know not how well my training will help, but I wanted to try something different in regards to your madness, what triggers it and why. Worry not, I have no intention of removing you from Duty or adding extra shock to the collar.” She says with a small chuckle.

“You did well, it was only unfortunate that the Golems targeted you after the fact. However, I wish to have you try a form of meditation, it is partly how I came to master the art, the other being my wavelength and likely upbringing.” Leading him past some greenery in the forms of shrubs and bonsai trees, a rock garden awaited with two large stones at the center.

“This training I have in mind is not a means to calm yourself, but to reach an understanding. It may sound strange, but Madness cannot be just totally suppressed or what causes it shut away, so a meeting of minds is sort of what I wish to attempt. How Daniella Ethalyn is able to deal with her madness as an example.”

Adrian tried. In earnest, he tried to follow every word that Reiko said. He didn’t quite grasp her sense of humor, but he at least picked up on the fact she was trying to be more pleasant than last time. There were just things she said and how she said them that he couldn’t quite piece together in the quick succession she said them.

Not to mention, he was quite easily distracted by the simplistic beauty of the garden he was walking through. Admittedly, there might have been a type of futility in trying to explain anything remotely complex to him.


”Dani has Madness?” was his first and only immediate response to the entirety of the speech Reiko provided. While he had a few questions about the rest of what she said, most if it admittedly was secondary to the concern–or interest, depending on the point of view–that arose when Reiko referenced Dani. Adrian was notably pretty easy to derail.

Pausing at that, she turned to look at him, a narrowing of her eyes, though her face always looked a bit grumpy or hostile, this time she looked more akin to confused. As her features relaxed she gave a short nod.

“Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t know. Either way, it coupled with her wavelength puts her at a higher risk than you yourself are. And she wasn’t the only one there that day who had to wear the collar. Well, has. Had would imply they no longer don’t. It is part of why some of them tried to pull you back from it. One of them I’m more surprised she didn’t try to kill you.”

Stating this all matter-of-factly, she motions for him to take one of the seats, well, if you called a raised and smoothed stone a seat.

”Hmm,” he hummed for a moment, thinking about the information that he was just given by Reiko. It was a brief period of processing, almost bringing out a hollow quality within those bright blue eyes of his. ”I don’t think Dani would try to kill me,” he told her, his ignorance over the topic coming across as fairly flat and matter-of-fact.

With that said, he transitioned back to what she had said earlier. Of all that she said, one particular comment stood out the most. ”What do you mean by meeting of the minds? I’m not gonna… pretend like I got everything you said, but that one right there throws me off the most,” he asked her, his tone still fairly flat. He was trying, this was a high-effort endeavor from him even if it didn’t seem like it.

“Simply put, what is it that brings out your Madness, what does it contain that you do not. To find these qualities and to connect with them… Well, provided they aren’t too deranged, you can gain some of what is at the core or forestall Madness gaining the upper hand. In the case of the reports it is said your madness was more collected, overly confident according to some.” Taking the 2nd seat, the Miko crosses her legs and waits.

“Think of this akin to exposure training, your madness is likely what evolved your power, the problem is madness is akin to a choir. Once one starts singing others will join in. It then cascades, warps and corrupts. So do you not recall anything from that time at all? Ultimately I will need to clear you for duty again, to continue in the program, but I don’t believe suppression of madness is the only way to deal with it. The key is to make it so that it does not crop up, that its triggers are found and bound, or qualities of it implemented.”

Holding her hands out, her right is in the form of a cup, the left straight flat. “To put it another way, just bottling the problem is like a pressure cooker. However, if one releases some of the built up steam while not running too far with it, the boiler stays in place.”

”I do recall what happened, it’s just fuzzy,” Adrian explained to her, trying to clarify this point since she brought it back up. ”I can remember fighting the dolls almost perfectly. Like, uh… I can make twelve spikes, maybe a few more if they’re all small, but the main thing is I have to be aware of where they and how long I make them. The more spikes and stuff I make, the harder it is to just make it all work. Actually, uh… if I make too many, it just plain hurts,” he continued on, going into pretty specific detail about his partial weapon transformation. This was actually a fairly unique exchange given how few weapons had such complex transformations as his with so many parts, especially without being a Death Scythe.

”But then? It was effortless. I can’t remember having to think about them or it hurting. They just worked. Now, destroying all the dolls is a bit blurry. I remember getting stabbed, though. That hurt some, but it was… weird. It’s like I felt the pain, but my body didn’t care. Pain is supposed to have an adrenaline rush. Raise your heart rate, make you anxious. I had to research pain for my wavelength, so I know all that. But when I got stabbed, none of that happened,” he went on, giving her more of his firsthand experience. His dance with Madness wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, though. It was better that he maintained at least some of his mental facilities at the time. Aside from that fact, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to have a diminished pain response or a change in abilities when mad. That much seemed normal.

”What I remember most is.. The things I said to everyone. I didn’t feel like I was the bad guy then. I was doing good, destroying the dolls, keeping them safe. I mean I get now that being Mad is a bad thing, but back then I felt like it wasn’t fair that I was doing my part and they were being dicks about it,” he told her, likely giving her the most insightful comment he had made. When it came to something more logical, like his speech, he had a pretty good idea of what he did. If anything, his foray with Madness was more like a drunken blur than it was a complete blackout.

Pausing to think on all of this, Reiko briefly closed her eyes, taking into account his own battle experience, about what had changed with his ability, how it had improved, opening her eyes only at the end. “As I said, Madness spreads akin to a tune. There are types of Madness you see. They number as many as emotions. In essence during the outbreak those who did not change had resolute wills and souls, or their own brand of Madness fell into what we term the Madness of Order. Madness has been and always was a part of us to an extent. So while you were fine, there were others in your team that the effects of this could have gone very badly for.”

Letting that bit sink in, she then continues. “In effect, what you did was not wrong, but you are not in a vacuum. You must be mindful of that and those around you, to stretch out with your senses, even your feelings, but even then you must be aware.”

“Tell me, what was different between using your powers then and normally, as in, did anything feel different, any reservations that were banished, anything at all? We very well cannot have you using madness as a crutch, but the fact you were able to touch something more means it is not locked to you.”

He must be mindful of those around him. Of course he did. Him not being mindful in the past was, in fact, why he was here. It grated him somewhat how Reiko sounded like a broken record player here. Like all those that came before her. Obviously, he needed to pay attention to those around him. Her word choice here had him irritated enough that he almost missed the entire point she was making.

Apparently, it wasn’t just his spikes he needed to be mindful of, but his feelings. Fantastic. That’s exactly what he wanted to hear. He went from being told to train harder to control his abilities to just becoming an unfeeling robot so that he would never let a negative emotion hurt another soul again.

These expectations were insane.

The saving grace for this encounter is that she asked him a question. A logical question. One that he had an answer to. This acted as a distraction from the frustrations he felt about her first comment, and that made for a pretty effective way to progress the conversation.

”I guess I should explain how my spikes work,” he answered, going off to explain just how it felt to make his spikes. ”They’re normally on the inside, right? Iron Maiden and all. When I make them, I have to flip them in my head. It’s like a mirror, if that makes sense. I have to stay focused on them even after I make them. I know most weapons can just make a part and it stays, but mine don’t. I was told it’s because of how unnatural my use of them is. I guess if I made spiked teeth or something, it might be easier, but I’m not going to fight anyone pretending to be Jaws,” he went on, explaining how it worked. Again, most of this was fairly common. Partial Weapon Transformations varied in difficulty, and his use of them was extremely unorthodox.

”I didn’t have to think of any of that then. It just happened. It was instinct. Shooting spikes through the ground just came as naturally as breathing. I don’t really think I felt anything else,” he told her, giving the stark contrast of how easy it was to simply fight without the focus needed for his spikes. Given his profile said he could make twelve spikes at once, it made a fair amount of sense that he would get lost in a fight if he had to focus that hard at any given time.

There was very little she could do and more empty platitudes would do but so much, so she might as well try explaining the Japanese way of looking at it. At himself maybe.

“In Shintoism, we do not really say to control your emotions, nor to embrace them. There is no good or evil. There is but benevolence and destruction. The Wa is the way of balance, to keep the measures of life against that of entropy. Some consider killing a sin in the West, no, most do, there are even those who detract and call out against the actions of the DWMA. There is purity and impurity.

To slay a thousand lives for personal gain or for amusement is an impure and destructive act, a force of entropy. Killing a cow or a deer for its meat in order to survive, or killing the witches and other ilk that troubled us that day is an act of purity and while a destructive act, ones which are needed to stop the greater entropy. So to be mindful, I mean to stretch out into these thoughts, rather than the fact you have been told a few dozen times to suppress and keep buried that which you are.

However this does not mean to run off in a jolly form and embrace that madness, for that would disrupt the balance.”

With that all said she then crosses her arms. “In essence I wish for you to meditate and reach into what happened then. I will act to suppress your madness with my own wavelength and guide you through the process. With that understanding and inner balance you will hopefully be able to call upon this ability of yours more easily and to strive off your madness as you will understand it. Calm mind is more or less just meditation, to center one's mind, but there are as many thoughts and theories on it as there are instructors. Unfortunately I am not an Autonomous Weapon. I can only offer up how I endured the hunt and the madness that came after. Given some threats this is how I became so covered in scars. You should not see me as something to copy, but as a guidebook towards the first steps in finding your own balance.”

Adrian took a moment to parse what Reiko was explaining to him. The puzzled expression on his face made it somewhat apparent there was some confusion, but it wasn’t as if the student had hazed eyes and a blank expression. The gears were turning in that noggin of his. This knowledge she was presenting to him simply had to seep into his brain, saturated its very deepest corners, and marinade his previous thoughts for a moment. This process wouldn’t yield immediate results, but for the time being, he needed at least a little more time to come up with a response.

”If you don’t mind.. Before we do the meditation thing, can we go over the idea of pure and impure killing again?” he asked her, deviating from her schedule but showing specific interest in at least something she had told him. ”What does it mean to be pure? How do you tell the difference?” he asked, further delving into the specifics of her belief.

With some thought she raises a hand and points at all that is around them.

"Kannagara, the way of the kami, or spirits is the natural harmony, Sincerity, honest, hard work, giving of thanks is offered to the spirits, ones ancestors, Death and the lesser spirits below him that exist in our world. Wa is the balance between the pure an impure, of nature and the spiritual realm.

The belief lies not in not in what is believed but in things that should be done. Impurity is caused by Kegare, sickness or corruption you may think of it. All humans are pure to start with, disease, witchcraft, flaying of live animals, incest and bestiality are all examples of the impure.

So the question is, not if killing is wrong, only in how it is done. One should strive not to kill out of hate's sake alone, but rather love. Not love of your enemy, but love for the soul they once were, love of your fellow man and love of yourself. Kill swiftly, surely and not as a means to prolong the suffering and enjoyment of some vendetta. As to being pure, it is the ways of the Kannagara."

Adrian cocked his head trying to take all of this in. There were a lot of new words, but it wasn’t necessarily the words. It was the concepts. Some of them he understood, like to kill swiftly and do so not out of hate. That made sense. Some of this speech didn’t sit with him as well. The idea that everything was pure to begin with didn’t mesh well with the idea that all minds had a spark of madness in them. The idea of the impure seemed to cover a different type of ground than the simple idea of evil.

Really, the issue he was having here is that pure and impure sounded an awful lot like good and evil but with extra steps. His mind tried to piece it together, but it honestly just came across as a different set of words describing the same damn thing. He could accept that he was wrong about this. Chances are, this was an oversimplification for the sake of time. Still, the idea interested him solely on the fact it was a different way of looking at the good and bad parts of the world, and perhaps even himself.

”I don’t… suppose you have a book on this, do you? Like, uh… preferably not a bible, maybe a For Dummies style text that makes it clear? I don’t think I’m going to get it down in just one setting,” he asked. He wasn’t outwardly trying to be offensive, but he knew if he tried to read a text written in some odd format made thousands of years ago, it might not sink in. That, and he was probably focusing on the entirely wrong things for this encounter.

“I’m afraid then it may make little sense to you, it is very much a religion that reflects the Japanese people. In fact we have very little literature on the subject. It is an ideal rather than a thing.” Reiko says in response to his question, before pausing. “There are some books that reflect on it from western authors who have visited or studied. Either way it was not the religion I intended to teach you, rather that the concept of killing is not so black and white and that at times acts of destruction must be carried out.”

Sitting her hand back down, she tilts her a little to the right and smiles. “The purpose of this is to show there is no set way, minus some core tenants some priests and priestesses have very different views on the concept than I do. It is my hope we can find your balance and aim at unlocking what you did without having you dive straight into madness to do so.”

He had never met someone that made this eastern-western divide like Reiko had. He found it rather annoying. There perhaps was something to it, but he was sure there was some type of reference material out there that would help. He perhaps would have to look into this on his own, even if that wouldn’t yield as significant of results.

”Alright… uh… meditation isn’t normally my thing. I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do here,” Adrian told her, explaining just how naive he was to this very concept. He knew Zari would meditate and it somehow helped him focus on his martial arts, but he never delved into what that really meant. Not that he literally had no idea what meditation was; it was a concept that saturated media everywhere.

More like, he didn’t know what real meditation was like. To him, it was just a word that was synonymous with focusing really hard, and he was pretty sure that wasn’t exactly what they were doing.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll look for a book, you’ll understand in short order what I meant.” She says with a chuckle. “On shintoism that is, but Meditation as well. And hmm, you will find, Meditation is as cryptic as all else I say and in fact has no single agreed upon use, stance, or purpose.”

With that Reiko raises to her feet, slaps the palms of both hands together, raising her elbows up and out to the side. “When I meditate it is often like this, or with my legs crossed sitting on the ground. What works for you may differ and there are dozens of forms. However there are some generalities, first find a way in which you are comfortable, or not, depending on what speakers to you more. Let go and feel all that is around you, count the drips of water, your breathing and bit by bit close yourself off to them till there is but you, you and whatever you wish to see.

From that point you are to reflect or ponder on one core matter till you have reached an awakening, a eureka moment so to speak. If you do not wish to focus on yourself then focus on those you wish to help, the wider world, your place in it, reach a state of calmness.

Calmness, inner peace, counting drips–none of this was what Adrian would call relaxing. It didn’t bring him to some inner area of peace. If anything, it only made him more anxious. An hour or two would pass using different methods to try and bring Adrian any closer to what it even meant to meditate. Headway wasn’t really made until an explanation as to what meditation really was had Adrian pick up the insight that he needed to do something that brought him some type of peace or clarity.

There was only really one thing that did that for him. Running. Which he did. Around the beautiful garden, Adrian ran until he could do so without his eyes even open. The same circle, over and over, faster each time, until he was steady and in a loop. It would seem absurd if not for the fact Reiko could see it work. His soul became more still. Whatever spark that was in him became quiet.

Calm Mind training would be impossible to accomplish while running around in circles. But, teaching Adrian how to achieve a zen-like state through meditation so that he could near his soul, that might require a unique approach. If she could get him to recreate this state in a more controlled manner, she could work with this.

“Hmm…” Studying him as he ran his laps, Reiko chuckles a bit at it. “That is one way to do it, there is a sect of Monks that actively hit those who are meditating over the head or across the back as they find pain brings clarity. Still…” Narrowing her eyes, she had to think how to translate this into something that matters and could be done while stationary or near enough to it. “Is it the act of running in and of itself that centers you or is it the physical exertion?” She asks, waiting for him to stop.

Adrian did in fact require a moment to slow down and stop. In part because he was doing the entire routine without his normal vision. Primarily, though, it was just that he often lost himself in these types of exercises. Once he came to a full stop, though, he was hardly sweating. His breath itself hardly showed any signs of change. He had plenty of faults, but his physical conditioning was not one of them.

”Uh, not really sure,” he answered, responding with a slight twist in his voice in the end. ”I don’t think it’s, uh, just the work out… I lift weights and do other things and I don’t get like this,” he explained, expanding on that thought. His eyes darted over to the side, mulling over the topic. If this type of feeling was what meditation was all about, then he couldn’t really think of anything else it strictly applied to.

”I think it’s the focus… the only other times I get like this is when I grind in a video game and it’s for, like, the same thing over and over. It’s like… the groove of what I’m doing. But, it can’t be something easy. If it’s easy, I get bored. I need a challenge to get in the zone,” he went on, giving her the crucial insight as to what it was specifically about running that got him in the correct spiritual state.

Considering these rules, Reiko was no stranger to harsh methods and hard training, and decided to hone in on that one aspect. It was all she had to go on. It seemed traditional methods of teaching him were bound to fail.

“Five hours. Each day, every day till you learn what that focus is from your games and running, you will come here to train. We will start you on a run till you need a break and from there you will deploy your spikes. Twelve the first attempt, thirteen the next, so on and so forth, a measure of pain and a measure of comfort, you’ll be able to break to eat and I’ll even allow you to use the house bath before you leave, unless you rather just go back. The purpose of all of this is to pounce on that measure of focus and to bounce it into your abilities. Multiple times during those five hours we shall do this and I’ll stay on hand to suppress your madness. This will continue till you have a sure grasp on that concept of mind and can form sixteen of those spikes. After that we will make sure you can enter that state of mind when not running or gaming.

You may wonder why we don’t try the latter instead, pain makes a great teacher. Or so I’ve found.”

Adrian listened and what struck him hardest was the high demands she was asking. Five hours per day? What about missions? What about his strength training? How was that going to work? That and making another spike wasn’t exactly a super easy ordeal. He could probably conjure the thirteenth spike. The problem was using that in a battle. Keeping track of each one was no small feat. He would need a sparring partner. That would need practice. But, then she went on and on and it only became more intense.

”A-Are you sure th-that’s right?” he asked, a little taken aback by the intensity and approach. ”What about missions–and, and other training?” he asked, bringing up some of his main concerns. It was plain on his face that this regime as outlined was a little overwhelming to him. He was all about difficult training and pushing his limits, but this went beyond what he considered… normal.

Huffing at that, the muscular woman crosses her arms, snorting a little. It was akin to a scarier Nadia really as her harsh gaze looked at him. “Pain is weakness leaving the body, but if you wish for half measures very well. You are clearly under control right now, so even if I wanted I couldn’t keep you out without having another talk with Cyrus, to tell me I’m wrong. Though it is easy to forget that most do not train as much as I.”

Pondering this for a bit, she closes her eyes and sighs. “Then if that is too much, run at least thirty minutes a day then do your meditations, or rather attempt to do so with your spike manipulation as we discussed. I would also say do other workout routines for another thirty minutes and then thirty minutes devoted to your special training, as you make progress into this, you can do what you wish with the time. Ninety minutes a day will show some progress and we’ll do a review inside of say, two weeks?” She offers.

Adrian listened to her, and she had a fairly valid set of input, but there was something that he wasn’t sure if she was clear on. The only thing that realistically had him so bored at this point; all that kept him from training as hard as he normally did.

”I’m used to training hard. I max my weights twice a week and run for hours. That’s… not the problem,” he told her. With that, he lifted up his shirt to show her the bandage covering his still-healing stab wound. He quickly allowed it to fall back down, but the point was made. He had to limit himself to a pretty significant degree for this first week. Once the stitches came out, he could spend more time in the healing chambers within the hospital, and he would be back up to his prime in just a few days beyond that.

”It still has stitches,” he explained to her, ”and my only concern was five hours a day running would cut into combat or weight training. With no Meister, I have to work out extra hard. Self-Resonance isn’t as strong,” he told her, though these were not new facts to her. If anything, what he really meant was that he didn’t want to fall behind in his other training by dedicating an overwhelming amount of time to meditation.

“Hmm. I see.” She said simply, though she did open her eyes to look at him and his wound. “All I can really offer you is that you must push your limits and find whatever it is that you get out of the running and gaming as you said. While your wound is of concern, and your opinion on training so long, is valid for all else you have to do, plus the fear of opening your wound.”

Scratching her head with her left hand, she lets out a slight laugh. “I tend to forget only Starwulf is as crazy as I am with training standards. Either Way. don’t take the five hours as the time to do, I’m saying whatever you do, do more then follow it up with trying to spawn more than 12 spikes or getting into that state of mind within your inner being, without needing to run.

Who knows maybe you can come across the answer while gaming in place of running. In spite of what others may tell you, there is no universal method for meditation. There is a different catalyst or source of strength for each person. Some do have a general method of working, but as I noted earlier, there is a sect of monks that reach that state by getting hit with a stick across the head. We could always try that but I’m fairly sure that won’t work with you. The basic concept in all of the possible training methods however is rooted in finding that state, the point where you can see the beast and resist it a little longer, to understand it. This is but the first step down that road and future steps may not need such training at all.”


As the conversation went on, Adrian only had more difficulty listening to her. She spoke well, but her points strayed further than the leash of his attention would allow. The only real thing he was absolutely sure of was her humor. Apparently, she and Starwulf were real hard asses. If they both somehow pushed training harder than he did, they must have been terrifying.

Regardless, he gleaned what he needed from her speech, or so he thought. He would need to find a way to achieve that mindstate he had while running consistently. Maybe find an easier way to achieve it. If the crux of his training for the time being was a modified method of running, that wouldn’t be too difficult. The step beyond that might be a different story, but such was a bridge to cross when he got to it.

”So… that’s it? No fancy ritual or lit candles?” he asked, making sure he was on the same page as Reiko when it came to the next stage for Calm Mind training.

“Not unless that works for you, some people do indeed, do that. Just have confidence in yourself and your form. Once you can do that, other doors will open. I can help you towards this, but you will not like me when it is done. Think about it. Either way, I’ll show you around if we are done for today, however If you need to go I shall not keep you, I’m sure you’ll come by again.”

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: March 29, 2067
Location: Past Dead Zone, Dall Island
Interactions: Ark, Maria, Chant, Rand
Mentions: N/A
Sir Les Paul Meredith RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper

Man, his teammates were so clueless! It was almost hilarious! Even Rand was left a bit speechless. He held onto the vine tightly, as if the tree were some beast he managed to wrangle to a standstill. Maria’s interjection to make the speech even simpler had him narrowing his eyes at her, but he guessed she noticed their… lack of intelligence in the degree of their speech. He had no idea the lengths of which these spiders had to talk or how difficult it was in general, but sure as hell felt like the spider whisperer. Would Arachne be proud?

Nodding to Ark’s question if they were done fighting, he looked back at Rand with a creeping grin. “These spiders are using that uh… Thing you taught me back there with the attunement to communicate. I dunno how, honestly- oh bloody hell…” He winced as the spiders all tried talking at once. “Huh… They use feelings as a sort of expression through the attunement, as well as expressing simple words… I think the only way they can do that is through plants? I’m not too sure, but I think it’s something unique to them.” Once the talking cleared up and he was granted more clear phrases, he nodded and looked to the others, though his smile was a lot less warm and more weary.

“Uh, well. If we don’t kill each other, then we’re good. Black spiders don’t talk, but these ones don’t talk that great. They want to take us to their mother if we won’t kill them and talk to her because she talks better.” He looked at Rand, a creeping grin on his face and an intrigued eyebrow raise. “Shall we? I mean-” He scowled. “If it’s that spider queen we saw earlier, I’m not too sure if she’d give us a warm welcome, but if these guys came from a different spider queen… Maybe we can get her help? It’s worth a shot, and we’re already in the thick of things. Can’t get anymore dangerous than this.” He shrugged. While it could definitely get worse, Raphael was still reeling from having his madness spike earlier like that.

He decided to get more confirmation, speaking through the vine and aloud. “If no kill, will Mother kill? Can Mother hear you and we talk now?” He hoped that was clear, and he figured that last question was a bit… Well, it could either lead to the answer he wanted or one that he didn’t need.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: April 10, 2067
Location: Duchess of Discord, Death City
Interactions: Ark, Maria
Mentions: Dani, Nadia, Adrian, V, Midori, Elly, Annika
Sir Les Paul EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper Mook-LandStrider

When Raphael had arrived back to Death City…

He was furious.

Everything was in disarray, people died in the wake of a festival he missed out on, and he realized through Sara and their sweet friend’s absence that she joined the statistics in the deaths. While Sara tried to appease not only her own guilt and suffering but his, he still felt rather hollow and angry. Just beyond angry.

His father had been busy helping everyone fix damages, using his attunement and weaving abilities to aid in construction in a way that made Raphael oddly proud. Yet… His father kept him away from helping. Something about how he needed to study more. Study.

But when he got the call to help, he leapt up and did it despite his father telling him no. But he soon saw why and wished he had the mana to do more. It was taxing and demoralizing to fix everything that was destroyed. All the fun these people were supposed to have - a fun he was hoping to come back to - was destroyed by some jumpy terrorists wanting to show up DWMA and the Wiccan Embassy. He fueled his anger into his work, tirelessly moving along with the reconstruction efforts.

When he heard there was a party for the Fate agents, he was all too thrilled to go. But he still felt… Off. Like he shouldn’t. It felt wrong.

To hell with Death City’s culture…

But, some guy needed to explain something about Fate, so he went. He wore his usual attire, the only nicer thing he wore was a slightly different coat and he had got more piercings on his ears as a sort of way to carry Allie with him. Like his mother in his satchel, he had little skulls with coffee mugs where the crossed bones would be dotting the shell of his left ear. He didn’t bring his satchel, nor his grimoire with him. They were supposed to be in for a party, but wouldn’t that just make it more dangerous?

He hoped Ark was there.

He noticed a few others he remembered from the tournament, but his face truly lit up seeing not only Ark, but Maria, as well. Ark was sitting at an empty table it seemed and Maria was conversing with him. Swiftly taking a seat beside Ark, he waved to the two, however his tone and personality was a lot more subdued than what he was like back on Dall Island. “Hey. Was wondering how you two were in this… Well.” He paused and fought back emotions he desperately wanted to bury, then shook his head. “Well, I’m doing kind of alright. Where’s the booze?” He asked, looking around for a waiter.