Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar & Wren | Czechia, Castle, Duo Trouble

Go time.

With all things said and done, the gates being blasted open, Elly's report on not being able to see anything ahead, Kisei's information on what might likely be the cause and the general stuff Zosar personally knew with how Obsidian could impact the magical and supernatural senses, he had to admit he was slightly surprised that Elly’s SSP hadn't been able to pierce through it even a little. Which, again, suggested all of what Kisei might have been thinking.

Mentally he was totally set, all the doubt his initial vague sensation had brought up was gone. There was no room for it when business had to be handled.

What Wren noticed now, was that her partner’s wavelength felt slightly different. Nothing disorienting that could ever ruin resonance because that just wasn't possible with her natural talent, but the aura, the sensation she felt, seemed somewhat…different, a reflection, a loose one, of Zosar's deeper reserves. He didn't have doubts on the success but something hidden was gnawing at him, he didn't know what. For Wren, it was easy to ignore but that also meant given the nature of his soul and their growing rapport, she would notice these things too. Faster than even Elly or Sara could detect it. Even as events unfolded around them with mobilized forces and activity, that difference in his aura to her, as his partner, was palpable like cold water during a burning hot day.

Albeit the sensation wasn't about to fuck up her ability to do her job successfully in empowering him as they moved.
Zosar would’ve felt nothing too dissimilar from his own uncertainty coming from Wren’s wavelength, it was reciprocated, an echo bouncing back in a cavern. It wasn’t fear or, understandably, anxiety for waltzing into the stereotypical Castlevania evil manor without a proper layout from Elly’s SSP. No, it was just plain acknowledgment of how stupid and reckless the plan was, same acknowledgment a daredevil has after doing a backflip off the face of a hill, mid-air, mid-way between the peak and the bed of jagged rocks at the bottom. It was a 50/50 chance of something they didn’t account for showing up, of things going horribly wrong. Those odds sounded fair enough to her ears, truth be told.
The chainblade’s engine was kept dead as, unsurprisingly, it was much, much harder to sneak around a castle with a roaring chainsaw in your hands. Wren would just have to focus on amping wavelength through Zosar’s body for now, keep a pair of watchful eyes behind him for good measure as they went around the back.

There were a couple of moments were she’d slip in her focus and let her eyes wander off, humming to herself as she scanned the grand, regal innards of the castle, before she’d snap back into the mission, clear her throat ”Y’ think Elly’s got her eyes back yet?”

‘ Probably not. Let's just keep an eye out for anything Sara or her shares.’

Collabers: Haze-

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul Pumpkid Merciless Medic

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Blood Hunt
Elimination and Recovery
Date: 09/27/67
Location: Castle Kleist - Liberec Region - Czech Republic​

True to the expectations and worries of Kisei, Sara, Zosar, Wren and Elly, the situation and its circumstances would become rapidly clear, as would a few more determining factors and the stench or presence of lesser undead. Firstly, upon entering the grand fortress gothic architecture, pillars, sharp points, rigid rows and carved cuttings of skulls, iconography that would not be out of place in Middle Ages, though not exactly Christian, a heavenly host and gargoyles were depicted among the lattice work of skulls and vampiric wings, a flurry of banners were strung up in some locations around modern lighting that took the place of soot stained torch brackets, decorative glass and cowling to make it look ancient, and all of it glistened in an ebony sheen, jagged edges artfully placed upon reinforced and ancient stone.

Obsidian glass, refined shards that made a layered wall, it was a process sort of like what Kisei hypothesized, but not quite. Rather it was shards, almost akin to wallpaper interworked into the stone, the key weakness to obsidian was its fragility as he noted in his own thoughts, a foundation of stone, walls and arches were the key to the castle's innerworkings, while inter-locking akin to a skin, the fragile crystal and its 'wallpaper' provided good cover and concealment from the detection arrayed against it. With yet other crystals and impossibly thick doors and gates enforcing the constraint this place held. The other stones were inlaid into what could be identified as a spell circle, to what purpose remained to be seen, though likely it helped with the Soul Perception suppression.

Or did.

Upon the inside, Elly could faintly detect and gauge where strong souls were, if vaguely the outer walls were more thickly covered and it seemed by the ritualistic manner in which the other stones were laid, that some magic was at work with the nullifications found in the stone, then again, with the Count now using leylines in an attempt with his science to corrupt the local lands and peoples, well, was it really that much of a surprise? A lost art by unknown hands, or maybe not so lost, depending on if any interrogation would be forthcoming... Still, this motif of the old world, meeting the new, of arcane and the ritualistic, it would have inspired another member of the program a great deal had she been able to lay eyes and hands upon it.

In fact, had the group had a magus among them, well more of the nature of this chimaera would be known to them. However, a number of things would come to the attention of Elly and Sara of note in short order, and to all in general as they entered the gate and past its massive black lacquered doors and open gate house.

For all in general it seemed the bombing runs had done very little internal damage this far down, and possibly no more than on the surface level, a more thorough investigation would be needed, stone rumbled in some areas and even where they were some small bits of the obsidian facade and other crystals did break off. The castle had been shaken at the very least, and if the agents really insisted on it, they could attempt just clearing all the walls and ceiling, which simply put was not a realistic option.

For her part while hard to pin down as exactly as she would like, Elly found the building's interior when given a straight path or opening, it was easier to sense what was along a given corridor, if it was a room, then things became vaguer, so at least within the towering heights of this place a direct ambush would be detectable by Elly. In addition, she did get something of a handle for where the most prominent souls were somewhat detectable in what direction one needed to go. before them stood a grand gallery with a design that was purposefully made to slow if not outright stop anyone without superhuman abilities leading up above them to the castle proper, large gaps, stairways and platforms were all included. It was equally obvious that those changes were done over time. Also before them was the grand reception hall and other such amenities should they take the time to explore past what they could see past the central portion of the castle.

In general Elly could sense that something powerful was above them in the central keep, lesser and hazy signatures were in various places, with another more stable pair towards a tower.

For Sara an overwhelming amount of information would be at her fingertips, or rather her nose tip. For one there were lesser undead, some afraid, some that smelt of bones and the same stink of fear, anger, or just dullard purpose, all above her the scent waft in as the smell of fire and dust came from above. But her attention would be more pulled to the reception hall, the smell of fear and the burning fumes of antiseptics and chemicals would assault her senses from an area in which she was sure something was there.

Something leading down, yet she could not just yet find it, likely a hidden room or stairwell with a trigger mechanism, keeping with the theme of this videogame styled castle. Decisions would need to be made, on what to pursue and with who was the question, once the information was relayed.

But things would have to be decided on the go, lesser skeletal soldiers were conjured into being as lesser vampires with an assortment of weaponry made their way into the reception hall. In both cases the term cannon fodder would be apt as the agents outclassed them that badly.

Interactions/Mentions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Kisei) Merciless Medic (Sara) Pumpkid (Dante) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[Merciless Medic]

Noah Wiley​

Date: September 27, 2067
Location: North of Steel Pier, Atlantic City Beach, New Jersey
Interactions: Gauss, Arkayis, Ark, Maria, Raphael
Mentions: N/A
Sir Les Paul Peckinou The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun

Noah sighed as he watched everything unfold before them. From afar, he can't hear what was going on, just that Raphael got in the pelican witch's face, tried to drag Ark away, failed, and then Ark spoke to her. Whatever they both said, it angered her. Finally, he was privy to what happened, and hearing that Raphael had said some things in defense of Gauss was...

Well, he shared the same sentiment that he wouldn't want Raphael to be defending him in anything. The man could be volatile without notice. Still, it was interesting that Raphael was a team player- well... specifically with their small team he was mobilized with. Raphael had a plan to try and chain it, but he was confused. What would the chains do? He hummed, waiting for more information.

Ark spoke of some sort of plan that involved him getting into the air, but even Noah was squinting at it. If Ark got further away from the ground - and he was already shitty with controlling sand - he'd have even less dominion over his magic.

Maria made the most sense here. Maria even gave good reason as to why it was a good idea for Gauss to be away. From here, he can see the heat shifting the air. Maria's outburst towards both Raphael and Ark had him trying to suppress a smirk, but then it left when she explained what the Witches were doing. He hummed, unsure of what to do or say now.

As Gauss spoke, Noah was acutely aware of how irritated Gauss was. He watched as Raphael noticed Gauss's anger and - possible - disappointment in being defended in such a way, which the mage thankfully realized and seemed a little regretful. But then Tia tried getting herself involved. It seemed she wanted to help, but wanted to ignore Gauss in the process because he was inferior, which didn't sit right with Noah.

Unfortunately, what also didn't sit right with him was Arkayis muttering something in German and then growing flames. Or at least a blue ball of flame. He sighed, reaching out to Arkayis. 'Look, I know this sucks, but we really don't wanna anger all these Witches 'n' get ourselves killed 'cause this pelican witch gets burned. Let's not make it harder for you, myself, 'r Gauss here, yeah?'

He hoped that was enough...

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ark | Atlanta | Rings: 0/1

Anything Ark would have said or may have been about to say in relation to Gauss' statement in his understanding was cut off with Tia getting up and personal, and while none of that was a surprise, it did remind him quite clearly of the old times of UK, and Gav whom he had shared talks with the night before the unfortunate event with the tainted services in Hawaii.

Pride was quite a sensitive thing with Witches, at least some. Tia was making quite the fine example here of that.

All Ark did was really just distance himself, but not by far. He took a few steps back as her attention shifted between Raph and himself, making it clear in body language his movement backwards wasn't done out of any cowardice from how his eyes rolled. As much as his control wasn't as refined as it would be with soil or hard variants of earth or its mixtures, he was very capable of changing positions by shifting distances. All he had to do was move the ground below Tia's feet, it's just he chose not to, knowing the impact and effect it would have on a woman like Tia. Not that he was the sort to care that much, if truly irritated. Just he had no interest in creating problems for Gauss. Besides he had spent a majority of his early adolescence exposed to these types of people in all the colors and forms they could come in, he knew when to back away, especially with the temper he used to have as a youth.

He was quite frankly glad that his Aunts weren't this bad or weren't willing to express it as much around him or having even met Raphael, knowing his personal stance. That was perhaps where the age factored in, they were all experienced, and as a result that experience had them better off. Maybe Tia would refine in time, he gave the Pelican Witch credit on not simply storming off, as minor as that was and as insignificant as such credit meant to Ark on a whole. Gauss had stepped in at the right time to cut her short, and once he did, Ark let his attention turn to more important matters for a moment beyond her yelling.

Maria was right, both the pitches they had made were a bit too far out there. Maybe it was just because a part of him felt the necessity to do something. There had always been something to do when he had worked with the militaries in Cameroon, Nigeria, even Egypt. He rarely had moments where he just…was forced to sit out in all honesty, with the versatility he provided. So while Gauss made it abundantly clear one of his two Weapon partners was in fact, quite ready to cut down anyone of magical nature whether friend or foe- something Ark decided to keep a mental note of in the future, and to limit interactions with Arkayis by extension-- he also considered just what else was available to them.

Which meant taking advantage of Tia's momentary pause to shift the focus. A move Ark did so gratefully.

“If they're trying to freeze it I'm not going to be of any help, especially with where you are, Mari.” Putting it bluntly, albeit politely in tone. “Raph,” his attention on his other friend “you're better than me with Magic Circles so you likely could aid in some of the spell work there or some other route of approach.” Sounding more like a suggestion.

“Regardless of the stance you have Tia we're all aiming for the same goal. Given what Gauss has said though and Mari's feedback, I really think it might help us knowing what your range of capabilities are. I'm out of ideas unless KN9 reaches land, unless Raph has some ideas to offer. Knowing the range of your abilities though Tia might give us something to work with.”

Straightforward in the last line, but wasn't a mocking statement either like Raphael's earlier remark had been. In fact Ark remained quite polite and neutral in tone to the Pelican Witch as he posed the opportunity for her to provide some information here, if also slightly pushy in getting an answer.

Mentions: Merciless Medic

Interactions: RedArmyShogun
Peckinou Sir Les Paul Meredith

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: September 27, 2067
Location: North of Steel Pier, Atlantic City Beach, New Jersey
Interactions: Chanterelle, Maria, Ark, Gauss, Arkayis, Noah, Tia
Mentions: N/A
Meredith RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul Peckinou

Ark was starting to piss off Raphael when the taller man (by an inch) told him he was going to talk with Tia, so while Raph made his little speech to Gauss earlier and asked Maria what they were doing up there, he did keep an ear out for Ark and Tia’s conversation, even if he could barely make it out. Safe to say that Raphael’s anger subsided when Ark politely took Raphael’s side as Raphael overheard the name Black Star, belatedly realizing that he probably shouldn’t have thrown himself off the deep end like that, and likely Gauss disapproved. A part of him got upset at the idea that Gauss disapproved - or even was upset - at Raphael defending him like that, but Raphael was rational enough right now to know that he wouldn’t want anybody else to defend himself so rashly.

As Ark rejoined them, Raph gave Ark a very flat expression when he was told not to count out the mages. He just sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Fine.” Though, Ark’s plan still sounded like ass, and still continued to give Ark that dead glare. Until Maria spoke on the comms.

He had a very pensive look upon hearing what Maria had to say about everything, realizing that it likely wasn’t a good idea to get so close. But if he could get close, he could stop this magical “thing” that was happening around the godzilla-looking motherfucker. Hearing that it might not be even viable to get close enough to do anything soured his expression, but he was trying to find something else to do.

And even their team lead saw Maria’s good advice. Raphael didn’t speak, he looked to the ground, showing as much shame as his frustrated pride that burned his chest would allow. In fact, when Tia stormed over, he completely ignored her so as to not push the situation further. He just acted like she wasn’t there, and he was doing a pretty damn good job of it. That was as close to giving and acting upon an apology to Gauss as he could.

He let Gauss handle Tia, and he left his comms open for Maria to help deliberate. “I don’t mean I’m going to chain it down, that’s not what I’m doing. If I go up there and get some chain looped around something, I’ll be able to suppress its magic. But, if I don’t, I’m sure the heat will get worse without the other Witches’ help in cooling the area. If freezing doesn’t work, I want to be able to keep it from doing anything else. We did just see it mimic the magical lasers from the helicopters, I’d rather it not keep doing that.”

He did notice Arkayis’s blue flame, but chose to ignore it. Though, he did subconsciously take a step back, putting Ark between himself and the Demon Weapon. He let out a hum after Ark made his point about how he won’t be able to help when they were freezing the monster, then looking up at him when he was told he could help make Magic Circles. He gave an unamused click of his tongue, then sighed. “Might as well…” Then an idea came. He could make Magic Circles that shoot out frozen chains that would still have his suppression abilities-

No, he had to dial that back. He can’t feasibly make a Magic Circle like that so quickly. He could probably create ice spikes that pierce into KN9 and he could have that be the suppressant…

Or he could just not suppress the thing right now and just do it the boring way… Honestly, that might be the safest bet.

He ignored Ark talking to Tia in favor of talking to Maria. “I might as well help with the freezing.” He sounded almost dejected, disappointed. “Making a freezing Magic Circle isn’t too hard. I wish I could make freezing constructs that can pierce the damn thing and suppress its magical potential that way, but we’ll just make do with this.” He waited for Maria’s response, knowing she would appreciate some Magic Circle freezing help, even if he can’t suppress the KN9.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long - Aki Kiyoko - Wes Kraven - Korne
New York City - Car Rentals JFK Airport
September 26th​

As Feng processed the various happenings and fought for her life, she didn’t have the time to set back and admire the absurdity of it all, the ax throwers, giant, hands from the ground and more and more of the wires would come for her, slashing, hacking and eventually breaking her way out of the barrier, or rather breaking the barrier, just to only end up with more forms of death coming her way;

’Okay, I don’t care if we don’t impress Sam, but we are getting out of the circle and I’m just going to break her toys and fire potshots at her. I’m not running that field all over again. Not playing this twisted game. We’ll back out, break her toys and fire a shot at her at any and every chance… Now for this issue, I don’t think shielding will be enough, not running away will do much..

I know it didn’t work well when we initially tried it, but I want Wes to give another shot at regulating Aki, I want to be able to put a lot of pressure on that witch. Ideas?’
’Yeah, just.. Give me a second.’ Wes grunted, a tinge of irritation in his voice as he once again tried to reach out and grasp onto Feng, Aki and even Korne’s wavelength. His own wavelength was trying to reach out as it always had, through its unique soundwave property, but it couldn’t feel anything other than itself.

Each attempt served to only frustrate the purple haired weapon, the feeling slowly growing more and more noticeable to his current partners. He never imagined that he would have this much difficulty with enhancement. He was always able to fall back on his wavelength, his own natural gift that let him fine tune his wavelength with others. Now, stripped of that gift, he found himself floundering with something that was one of the basic steps before resonance. Something that might be the difference between taking down the witch, and getting his partner injured, or even killed.

And that scared him.

’If we can get out of this damn circle, this would be a lot easier.’

‘My wavelength isn’t making it easier either…’ Aki murmured in addition. For all her strides, she could keep from blowing off her partner’s hand, but she was still a far cry away from utilizing her wavelength to its full extent like Sam. Even if she thought he was a massive dummy, if she had better control they would all be better off.

’Right. Well let’s go.’ Feng said in short reply to the other two, or other three rather. There was still the issue of the needle rain, but it at least got them away from the undead hands and wires, hopefully, then they could try solving a few of the issues. The being outnumbered and the Witch, or, just letting her run away if they couldn’t kill her, time would tell.

Performing a jump backwards, Feng makes use of Wes’s gong form to intercept what needles she could, using speed and distance to hopefully do the rest. She would be outside of the field upon landing. Which given the lack of interference, she did, hopefully.

Breaching the threshold of the Magic Circle had the expected effect: every individual present would feel their wavelengths begin to return to normal. It wasn’t truly immediate, but fairly rapid. Given that Feng was mostly well-controlled most of the time, what she felt more than anything wasn’t her own wavelength return to normal, but the incredible increase in regulation that came from Korne and Wes.

Aki had a somewhat double-edged effect in that her return to norm included significant spikes in her wavelength, being that it was volatile by nature. Without any attempt to actively control it inside the circle, as she did not have to, it meant that for the next few seconds, her wavelength was akin to a roller coaster reaching its peak. It had a type of whiplash.

For Wes, he was ushered back into the realm of spiritual sounds. That familiar comfort of hearing everything he shouldn’t, no matter how much he attempted to drown it out. It was this return to norm, however, that would reveal an important nature to the current encounter the four were part of. While Sam was still clashing with Witches off in the distance–something nearly-impossible to ignore–Wes could hear the faint sound of another Soul within the area. Another Witch. Something he wasn’t able to pick up before due to Soul Protect, but their use of magic had increased such that she could no longer hide from his acute senses.

’Oh, that’s much better,’ Korne announced, the first to voice his relief at the removal of the spiritual suppression. It was such a task for him to maintain any level of regulation or help for Feng with such a powerful suppression effect active. Mentally exhausting is what it truly was.

’Though, now we have the issue that we can’t reach her without going back in the circle…’ he commented, somewhat more lackadaisical. He was demonstrably more relaxed now that they were outside of the circle. A type of enhanced confidence given they were all back in power.

With Feng deftly dodging and avoiding the incoming rain of needles and phantom hatchets, eventually breaching the magical circle, Wes immediately felt whatever effect it had fade away as the orchestra that was life returned in full force.

It was both a relief and a brief source of pain for the weapon, as while he was once again able to pick out and hear the bevy of souls present, having them all return at once was like taking a flashbang straight to his ears. Once the brief discomfort faded, he focused on regulating Feng’s wavelength, but paused when he noticed something new. Something that wasn’t there before, something so faint that for a second he wondered if it was just his imagination. But as the sound continued, he recognized it for what it was.

It was a new soul signature, one that wasn’t there before they had been trapped within the barrier. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where they were, not with all of the chaos and Samuels soul still being audible. But the fact that he was able to hear it now that they were free from the witch’s circle, and not before meant that either they had just stepped within his perception range, or that they had already been within his range and were hiding their soul. Wes remembered that back when they were fighting those demonic hounds, just before they all retreated, he had heard the briefest sounds of another soul flash out before losing it. It was brief enough that he couldn’t get a good sense of who it belonged to, but the fact that it was happening once again wasn’t a coincidence.

There was a chance that the soul he was hearing now and the one from before were one in the same. Which raised more questions, like who they were and what they were doing. If the soul was partners or comrades with the witches they were currently fighting, why were they keeping themselves hidden? Samuel might be a major threat, but he was preoccupied fighting the other witches. If they jumped in against Feng, it would tip the scales in the witches favor, possibly enough to overwhelm them.

‘Heads up, I’m picking up another soul signature from somewhere, another witch.’ He spoke, before quickly adding. ‘I couldn’t sense it before, and it’s faint, but there’s definitely another one hiding somewhere.’

To Korne’s point that they were once again back where they had started, Wes breathed an irritated sigh inside of their shared soul space. The witch’s game of keep away was proving to be an annoying strategy, essentially forcing them to either fight at a range or fight while under the effects of the circle. ‘This is such a drag. And we still have that giant lizard to deal with after this.’

He paused for a second, before letting out another sigh, although this one carried a different meaning. ‘Max output? Blow that witch and all of her abominations away with a big one?’ He suggested to the trio, waiting for their response.

With all that had happened and the sensations that game from the multiple weapons she wielded, was a bit to deal with, but at least they all weren’t tempered now, they could fight back, range aside. Then there were the trio of those undead abominations. And then Wes filled them in on yet another potential target as she got up to speed and remained in movement.

There was also the point on the lizard, well, wasn’t a lizard to her anyways. ’Reminds me more of a squid, and keep some attention towards that witch, if it’s the beasts from before, I would rather not be caught off guard. I also won’t be going back into that circle, we have our options too limited. As to one big one to blow them all away… Eh, Aki? I’m not sure if she can do that. Either way, I plan to shoot at her in any case, and to cut down the numbers on her friends if we can.’

Then there was the other issue that had been bothering her for awhile. ’I wouldn’t worry about the kaiju for now, I get the feeling all of this isn’t unrelated and I doubt its the end of it either.’

’I can but…’ Aki trailed off. That was the entire reason she was in the program in the first place, to learn to control enough that she could use her wavelength freely without risk of harm to her meister. ‘...The last time I tried that my meister ended up with nerve damage. I can use a bit more with Wes helping to regulate, but I don’t necessarily know if I can use all of it.’

Listening to the back and forth between the trio, Korne finally interrupted by blurting out a blunt question: ’Can you three even resonate?’[/b]
’We can! …kind of…’ Aki murmured in response.

’Sort of… We’ve been unable to do it as a trio, I’ve not tried with Wes alone, and with Aki it's normally me trying to stabilize and make use of her own wavelength. I’ve yet to have her handle my own, given it would balance upon my given nature.

Though, with all that is happening, we have little choice than to try something new. What else is there to say?’

’The short answer is no,’ Korne interjected, ’and, I’m not crazy enough to try Resonance in my first hour knowing you.’ Korne might have come across as coarse, but the back and forth here was eating into valuable time. While true that there was a dilation effect inside of Soul Space, it also created staggered and jagged movements. More easily predicted and the patchwork Witch already proved capable of abusing those windows.

There was another truth here that Korne was unaware of. Annika, the former partner of Wes, had an Oscillating Wavelength. Given Korne’s experience and Wes’ skill, it might actually be reasonable for them to try some convoluted form of Resonance using Feng as a medium. If so, that would give Wes access to the absurdly powerful attack potency he had with Annika; or, vice versa, it would give Korne a massive sonic boost. In either case, a boon, but still a risk and probably only something Wes would be aware of.

’I think the idea of there being another target makes sense. A lot of sense, actually. It’s more logical that two or even three Witches are casting spells together with only one acting as a decoy. I said it earlier; any single Witch powerful enough to cast all those spells could surely kill us quickly… but multiple working together might not.’ Korne told them, shifting rapidly over to the point Wes had brought up a moment ago. Overlooked at the time, but something that added up more and more over time.
It was the type of tricky, dirty tactic Witches would use to great effect on those inexperienced in fighting them. Deception and distraction were powerful tools in the right hands.

‘it’s complicated okay?’ Wes spoke up in his own defense at Korne’s observation, more than for Feng or Aki’s part at least. Were it just Feng and Aki, Wes could see the possibility of resonating. Even if he hadn’t done it with them before, he had been around the two of them for long enough to get a sense of their wavelengths. It might be a bit rough, but it was theoretically possible. With the addition of Korne however, that just wasn’t going to happen. At least, not a true resonance anyway.

‘Look, we can’t resonate, and there’s more than one witch. It’s going to be a pain, but we can jury rig something.’ While true resonance was out of the question, whether it be a twist of fate or a cruel prank played on him, Korne had the same wavelength as Annika. It might not have been for as long as he would have hoped, but their partnership meant that he was very familiar with it and how it worked. The problem with what Wes was about to suggest was twofold. First, it would be like strapping a car engine to an electric bike. It’d be powerful, but if they crashed it wasn’t going to be a pretty sight for anyone involved. The second reason was that it’d take a lot of effort to pull off on his end. Effort that he really didn’t feel like putting in for something as slipshod as what he was proposing.

‘If anyone else has any ideas, speak up now. Otherwise, just… follow my lead.’

Korne listened and learned. What he learned was that Wes, while fairly booksmart in Soul Studies, overthought the situation to a substantial degree. It made some semblance of sense; the boy never wanted to be here in the first place, so it made sense that his solution was more theoretical than practical.

It was time the veteran Death Scythe actually gave the greenhorns some guidance. ’Feng, gain some distance—back off about twenty feet. Then, send a good chunk of your wavelength to Wes so that he can try to amplify it. If he can and you can handle it, it means someone on this damn team can Resonate and that changes the game, he instructed, cutting right to the chase. It was time to leave the bullshit behind and get the lead out of their asses. If it turns out Wes could have been resonating with Feng this entire time, someone needed to slap him upside the head.

Lazy fuck.

Listening to the brief back and forth, Feng herself did not have a better idea, if anything it was welcomed that both had something to say, this was all a bit much. Still, something of a plan seemed to be forming. ’Twenty feet eh? Yeah, I can do that.’ She said in simple reply, jumping back and taking off into a run as she attempted what Korne had said, her aggressive wavelength would knock on the door of the spiritual realm, one hell of a gamble in some regard, if this didn’t work they would have no choice but to retreat. Even should it work there was the matter of crossing or firing across the spell circle.

As Feng flared her own wavelength out for Wes to take in, he had to wonder. When was the last time he had actually resonated with anyone? Annika was the obvious answer, but the duo had only ever done so in training before the incident. Her wavelength was difficult to nail down at first, but after trial and error the two had managed it. With Feng however, it was a whole different wall to climb. It was harsh, like a heavy guitar riff that hinted at something far more destructive bubbling under the surface.

Reaching out with his own wavelength, the two connected and his head was filled with the sound of heavy guitar screeching. Pumping his own wavelength into it, the screeching became even louder, yet at the same time less ear piercing than they were before. It was a controlled sound, one that a person would feel in their chest more than their eardrums. Once he was sufficiently sure that the wavelength was both stable and strong enough, he cycled it back to Feng to use.

The heavy thump it made when it first fed back into Feng was, in a way, surprising. Resonance was an entirely different sensation that unleashing her Berserker Wavelength, yet at the same time, eerily reminiscent. What her wavelength would do, if unleashed, was akin to putting blinders on a horse. It gave her tunnel vision and pure focus. When in use, she didn’t need to focus on her other skills. Resonance gave her more raw power than her wavelength ever could, but it also made one hyper-aware of their own soul. Even while inactive, the qualities of her berserker wavelength were amplified many times over.

Wes was gifted with moulding Wavelength, in no small part because of his ability to see and shape it as sound. More so than perhaps any Weapon she had in the past, and leaps ahead of Aki with her Volatile Soul, Wes made her amplified wavelength a powerful asset. The spikes and aggression she had were rounded over, like deburring a blade, making it easier to cut. Every muscle in her body benefited from resonance.

She could feel it. Faster, stronger, more stamina, even her perception picked up. The Patchwork Witch was already on the move, casting some Spell that conjured even more of those oversize, levitating needles. This was a new dawn for her. For them. They stepped into the realm of agents that could unlock the depths of their potential. Now, they had the raw power to perform feats unimaginable before and all it took was Wes being called out.

Feeling the power coursing through her body and soul, Feng finally felt a bit unchained, with that tremendous power finally at her call, for three, no, almost 4 long years she had endured these shackles of the DWMA. It was exhilarating, cracking a wide grin, she felt a little cocky, not because of some form of power rush. No, it was born of confidence in all that she had crushed before. While a new target, this witch was as good as dead, then they would deal with the second. The problem was, however, rather straightforward. That damn spell circle needed to be removed, or Feng would have to run circles and hope the witch tired out first. With the hail of needles, Feng stood her ground before suddenly bursting off to the right. ’Going to test the waters, Wes. I’ll make sure you make contact real good with the spell circle outside of its reach, I just want you to put out a lot of sound, with that and my impact I want to see if we can seismically shatter it. If we can, we go in, fast and hard and make her regret ever getting so close to me.’

’Just make sure you don’t step in it. That sensation creeped me out.’ Wes was extremely hesitant to experience having his auditory perception completely shut down once again. Despite how many times he wished he could do it in his day to day life, he never realized how off he felt without it. That, and if they were forced back in the circle, he doubted that he’d be able to maintain resonance.

With each pump of Feng’s wavelength being sent through him, slowly but surely he increased the intensity as it was sent back. Like slowly dialing up an amplifier mid-solo, Feng, and to a lesser extent Korne and Aki, would hear a slightly distorted hum in their shared soul space. To Korne, who was the most familiar with his own wavelength, it would almost sound as if the humming was trying to match and predict the oscillations. Shifting, slowing down only to rapidly speed up as Wes prepared his own wavelength properties, building up a sound that even he wasn’t sure the end product would be once unleashed by Feng’s strike.

With her power flowing, Feng would shift Wes by the rope down into her hand proper and slam him just behind her leading left fist into the earth just in front of the circle so his Side would impact with part of the front going into the earth alongside her fist, forcing her spiritual presence forward it was akin to Soul Force with hopefully sound vibrations to crack, crater and shake the earth in a conal shot in front of them.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (NPC's) @Shotgunpenguin (Wes)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

North of JFK Airport, New York City, New York
GM Post​

en route to Eastern front​

[TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic Depictions including drug use]​

It was an unsteady climb. Despite being freed of the immediate touch from Adrian—that which the mere touch of his sharp spike caused the sensation of an intense stab—Brennan was still far off feeling better. Pain wreaked havoc on the body. While it was true that a tempered mind and a powerful spirit could ward off pain, that would only last so long. No one alive could resist pain indefinitely, chronic or otherwise. Even those that became accustomed to it only felt it dull, but a dull ache was still a dull ache. What Adrian, however, was as far from dull as it could be.

The pain Brennan and the other agents of the church felt was nothing short of excruciating. Their nociceptors were being amplified beyond their normal physical capabilities. Just as a wavelength made a muscle stronger than any human could be normally, what Adrian did was cause pain greater than what could be felt normally. As long as he could make them feel even the tiniest amount of pain naturally, he could amplify it. When he did, especially to those unexpecting, it would shoot through their central nervous system and ultimately trigger an extreme sympthatetic nervous response. Most commonly, this fight, flight, or freeze, but even to those trained to withstand that immediate response, they could not stave off the physical reaction of their body. Adrenaline coursing, changes to blood flow, a faster heart rate, and worst of all... a heightened sense of pain.

That was the vicious cycle. That is why pain was such a problem. Pain caused a mental and physical state that enhanced pain which worsened that fear or anxiety and it went on ad infinitum, so long as the pain was still present. Prolonged pain could even reshape the mind.

It was no wonder that Brennan could hardly stand on his own. His legs trembled. His muscles were worn out, his cardiovascular system finally slowing down, the pain and shock from Adrian only now releasing their shackles on him. It took time to bounce back, especially when one had entirely fallen into it. Once their will and resistance was broken, the effect it had was truly at its peak.

Brennan had those same, sharp blue eyes as Adrian. Something Dani would only pick up now, given she could see them up close in his human form. Brennan was taller, more muscular, had a stronger chin, and shorter hair. In a way, the older brother was the more traditionally handsome. The blue hair could have been a dead giveaway, but those eyes could have been copied and pasted. At least, once they weren't dripping with a caustic venom of condensed condescension.

Not to say that wouldn't return. Dani was hateful. She was vile. Brennan could see her soul and the anger built up in it. She was everything wrong with this world. A despicable human, like his siblings, that were turned into weapons. Tools of the Devil.

Brennan felt no relief in seeing Adrian again. Perhaps he should have, but he didn't. By the time he recognized who his brother was, Brennan had already built his internal image of the others, particularly Dani and Nadia. To Brennan, his brother had already drank the Kool-Aid that was the lies and propaganda of the DWMA. They followed a false God. Even if the Shinigami not reject any religion, he dispelled believers. The existence of a God on the mortal plane shook the faith of many. It wasn't worth it. The Shinigami wasn't worth it. He was no real God. He could not defeat Kishin Asura, he could not perform miracles, he could not support man the way a real God could.

Lord Kidd was worthless in the eyes of Brennan.

Brennan knew darkness and despair. Some generations saw technology take over the world. The one Brennan was part of saw a disease take it over. Just as technology reshaped life in the late nineties and onward, MIBVI reshaped it in the forties.

Whatever pain Adrian put him through, it was temporary. What was permanent was the sting Brennan felt when the bevel of a needled went into his skin and into his vein. He felt that pain over and over again. What came after was a blissful escape from the shitty place the world became once when it had almost ended. But, it always short-lived. He chased that escape and it led him to do terrible, shameful things. He didn't even quit because he wanted to. He quit because MIBVI dried up the supply in even New York for some time. Withdrawals weren't just torture to his body, they were a reminder of the world he now lived in. The childhood he was deprived of. The family he left.

Even when he was clean, he could feel the itch on his arm. The crevice of his arm. It always itched.

It wasn't until he was alone and the drugs were gone that he found God. He had abused churches before. Food, sleep, shelter, safety. It wasn't until he was both sober and at the lowest low of his depression that he even thought to question why. Why bother? Why help? Why when the world was about to end and New York was on a total lockdown did these people cook soups and brew teas to hand out? Why did they get resources in and give them away? Why did these people go to help when so many others holed up in their apartments and just struggle through it? At his lowest point, he finally asked. The answers he received ended up changing him forever.

He became zealot. And, eventually, a Paladin. Much like his siblings, he had a soul worth weaponizing. The Church Fathers gladly did. And, as it turned out, he possessed a rare and Unique Wavelength. One that had probably kept him going mad in his withdrawals and despair. But, that was just speculation.

What Brennan saw when he saw Adrian was a lesser version of himself. The version he was without God. What he saw was his once-beloved brother fallen into depravity. Even if his brother was born with the sin of a demonic gene, he could have tried to repent. Offer his life to God as Brennan had. Many Demon Weapons did. All man had original sin, after all, Demon Weapons just had one extra. Lesser though they were for it, they could still bathe in the love of God.

What Brennan saw in Dani was not jaded with his former brotherly love. She was an animal. A hell spawn he would have gladly rid this world of if not for their treaty. She was nothing more than a devil on the shoulder of his brother, feeding him lies and seducing him into the falsehood of the Shinigami. In a way, he hated her more than anyone. He couldn't hide that hate when he looked at her. Not even if he tried.

He remained silent to her questions. Her goading. Even if he wanted to answer, it was in his training to reveal as little about their prayer as possible.

He didn't get out an answer before Adrian reacted, though. Adrian may not have put a spike in his back, but he could do one better. He transformed his right hand into that of a restraint and slapped it on the neck of his brother. Now, even if Brennan tried something wily, he wouldn't get away with it. Not that Brennan could have done much to fight anyway, but fighting with a shackle around your neck from behind attached to someone willing to put a spike through chest was virtually suicide.

"My wavelength is not a Healing Wavelength," Brennan said, correcting Dani on her description of it healing. "It is an Anti-Madness Wavelength," he spat out.

"Even if I could, there is no outcome here when I attack you and survive. We underestimated those wicked creatures you call Bloodsuckers. The Church would rather see as many of us returned alive than you or those demons dead," Brennan explained, calmly and slowly. He slung insults left and right, there was an underlying purpose to his speech. He was trying very delicately and deliberately to avoid leaking any more information than absolutely necessary. The best he could do was paint the Church as a group that valued the lives of their men more than the deaths of their opponents.

Nadia had another question. A simpler one to answer.

"The vile creatures you're working with are part of an international group of sympathizers. Criminals and terrorists masquerading as civil rights activists," Brennan told her, yet again spewing venom with his explanation, "the simple truth of the matter is that we had been tracking them on GeoSats for some time. When you started loading the trucks, there was enough activity to guess your location. We didn't know about the Witches, we came to eliminate the abominations. When the Witches intervened, we assumed they had gained some type of common sense and were assisting with our cause."

True to the end, Brennan and the Church Fathers were motivated entirely by hate.

With that, Brennan finally began pooling his wavelength into the palm of his hand. Not charging it, not utilizing it as one would with Soul Force. This was much more mild. More akin to how Sybil used her wavelength for Psychic Surgery. Then extended his right hand out, but did not yet touch Dani with it. "If you are so concerned, take my hand yourself however you want. You'll only need it for a few moments for it to cleanse you of Madness," Brennan told her, doing his best to bite his tongue and remain civil with his offer.

While Brennan made his offer, the up-to-now-not-introduced Techhead member of Fox Hunt decided to interject with more information regarding the request made by Nadia. He figured that while the other pair did their thing, he could share more information. "Regarding the corpses of the Witches, I'm being told their bodies degraded at a rapid rate. To quote Red Fang, they quote 'melted like in the Wizard of Oz' unquote," he told her plainly. He was a man of simple but effective communication.

---

Car Rentals JFK Airport​

With their newfound resonance and the lack of a barrier caging them, the entire battle had changed. All parties would need a new approach. The immediate advantage was on Feng and her weapons. With their new speed, the Patchwork Witch wasn't expecting either reactions or attacks at the rate they were going. Even breaking out of the barrier, the group weren't resonating to begin with. Still, she wasn't entirely caught off guard; whenever they exited the Magic Circle, there was a chance of this happening regardless. Their window of opportunity, though, did allow them a free attack on the ground. Wes was slammed straight into the pavement and his sonic blast released cracks a five or six feet in area around the point of impact. Some in and outside of the Magic Circle. There, where cracked, and it began to flicker and fail, but it was not quite there yet. As the ground cracked, the glowing lights that formed the Magic Circle were able to retrace themselves and remain connected, even if they were more faint.

It would take more than one attack to break that circle.

The Patchwork Witch realized the tactic and began immediately changing her own. She withdrew the hulk of a zombie, knowing it was far too slow now for the current pace of the battle. Given the range and speed, she had to use a completely different tactic. She raised both of her hands, summoning a pair of scissors to them, all the while a new magic circle overlapped with the one below her feat. In an interesting twist, her circle integrated into the old one. This was something that generally took practice and effort. Even the experienced Korne wouldn't know that integrating circles instead of overlaying them had entirely different purposes and effects, but it put into question the theory of their being separate Witches.

The hair of this Patchwork Witch floated up, then around her, obeying her commands until it was in front of her. There, she took the scissors, cutting of roughly an inch of her hair in various places. The strands floated her her now slightly shorter hair fell to the side. This was an important spell component. The use of a part of the body would make a spell stronger. In this case, there were tens of thousands. The average head of hair had over a hundred thousand. What this Witch just cut was a good chunk of that.

Each and every one of those hairs morphed into a solid, straight needle, all each just over an inch or so in length, depending on her cuts. What she had created was a storm of tens of thousands of needles all empowered by the fact they were part of her body. All now controlled from her stationary position inside the Magic Circle that itself was inside a Magic Circle.

She was out of snarky comments and now was in it for the kill. The speed of these needles far surpassed any of the previous ones, though with Feng now resonating, she could easily match them. The problem wasn't the speed, it was the volume. With so many of these needles attacking, they could from all directions at any or all times. Becoming overwhelmed was just a matter of time, depending on the range. Even Wes couldn't defend against this type of attack. The first volley of hair-needles came flying in, covering a huge attack spread of fifteen feet in length and ten foot tall with needles spread only an inch apart. One volley was eighteen thousand hair needles, not even a fourth of what was floating around her.

The game of Cat and Mouse continued.

RedArmyShogun @Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Atlantic City - New Jersey​

Pondering over what she heard, or the lack of others, and the missing bits of the conversation, Maria could only assume they had upset the witch, any help from her would be very dicey. Maybe she would see the greater good and commit to an action, maybe she would pick Raph up and drop him into the sea. It was hard to tell with issues of pride among the caster kind. Not even she herself was immune to it.

Still, now was not the time, though now that she was closer, she felt somewhat that the creature was indeed weaker, not all was in vain. Maybe her Friends did not fail per see. Still, now was the time to address the giant monster in the room, and what Ark and Raph had to say. "Umm... I'm pretty sure its hurt, but it won't be easy to finish it. I've been drawing the heat with my wind manipulation from the creature. It's much easier to do it like this than it was to fly those balloons. In case the freezing doesn't work I've been hoarding the heat into the air just above it. I want to unleash a powerful Wind Blast, or Wind Explosion above it, throw it into it. I'm unsure if much can be expected to this, but it should make it angry enough to follow me ashore. This will be rather risky, and our allies might not like me making a backup to their plan."

"I fear to do anything else but unleash overwhelming force upon this creature. If you two trust our ally, the chains may be worth doing but would disrupt the plan. Your spell circles may be able to help with the Ice freezing, but that is against your element, or you could support my backup, or I simply direct all the heat to you if you can get out here. It is possible you all could consider something else to do. I am not in command, I am sure however in all likelihood the beast will reach the shore, my job as I see it is to make it as bloody as possible."

Leaving the issue to the other three, Maria continues, confirming as much. "I wish for orders or guidance on if I am to carry this out. It is possible that the freezing could work and I'm just wasting my time and mana."

Interactions: Merciless Medic (Raph-Noah) Meredith (Chanterelle) Sir Les Paul (Gauss) Peckinou (Arkayis) The Regal Rper (Ark)

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Castle Kleist, Czech Republic
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

"Lovely," Was Elly's reply to Kisei regarding the soul tap. This was a castle presumably infested with undead, so plenty of opportunity to boost their stats. However, it was true that it could give them a sort of forewarning for nearby undead in a general sense. Though Elly wasn't incredibly keen on relying on an alarm where instead of a 'ding' she just felt a high.

The other point they had in their favor were the two werewolves. The walls blocked her spiritual sight, but not good old-fashioned hunting dogs, or wolves in this sense.

"Please do, dear. I'm damn blind in here," Elly responded to Sara. "Keep in formation, but see if you can smell anything... especially if it's closer or there is a trail."

Elly trusted Sara's senses. The woman simply greatly detested being blindfolded. Continuing on past the gate and into the castle grounds, Elly's attention would take to the decorum and walls. It wasn't obsidian walling it seemed, but fragments adorning the wall, at least for the interiors. Elly felt the fog lift, albeit only vaguely. She still was akin to a drunk stumbling in the dark, but at least she could see somethings.

As they reached the grand reception hall, Elly came to a pause. Her eyes wandered along their surroundings, boring into various points in the walls and ceiling.

"...Something strong is right above us--I'm assuming the Duke. I can also somewhat make out a stable pair of souls off towards one of the towers. I'm presuming that's the pair that intercepted our air support," Elly iterated to the rest. "There's other souls, here and there, generally... still rather blind. Sara, do you smell anything of note?"

She was still leaning towards focusing elimination on the Duke given they were on a timer and the Duke seemed to be closer than duo. Plus, if the obsidian was giving her this much trouble, the pair should be practically blindfolded unless they've already been enthralled or have another communicator with the Duke, diminishing the risk of them coming to support.

And then, Elly could feel it. Kisei's weapon form leeching off the newly summoned undead. Skeletons and lesser Bloodsuckers. They had to be a distraction, either one of desperation, a ploy, or both. These things wouldn't even slow them down so long as they committed to a direction. Elly raised the two sickles before adopting a ready stance. "Talk fast, dear," Elly murmured before beginning to engage the undead, blitzing past the shambling skeletons to target the Bloodsuckers, planning to cleave into them while they decided upon a course of action.

RedArmyShogun Merciless Medic Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper Haze- Pumpkid
.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

North of Steel Pier, Atlantic City Beach, New Jersey
GM Post​

Gauss was beginning to understand why many Meisters in the DWMA had such an issue in working with Witches. Compared to his former teams, the amount of talk and posturing here was absurd. The incessant back and forth in making a plan. Raph backpedaled on his idea of restraining the creature, claiming he didn't mean he would literally mount it. If so, the dipshit shouldn't have even suggested it in the first place. Ark just came to the same conclusion everyone else did: that sending him on a flying pelican made no sense. The question of what Tia could do was valid, but the rest was just reiteration. Though he felt the inclination to, he couldn't really fault Maria for not evaluating much of the plans. What little Raph gave amounted to another shot in the dark and Ark added little. Where disappointment hit was that Maria stood down from the podium Gauss put her on; she just wanted orders barked at her, apparently. He would call this fair enough if not for the fact everything was in disarray. She wasn't confident about her own plan.

Gauss couldn't rely on anyone, it seemed.

"I, uh..." Tia chimed in, intending to answer the question Ark had asked, but still in a somewhat awkward position given that her cheeks were being held by that flaming hand. An issue he corrected once she started to speak, realizing the problem. Granted, the problem ran a lot deeper than that.

At the very least, Tia wasn't yelling anymore.

"My magic is mostly water-oriented, but I can use wind... I specialize in long-range Spells. I can scout with my birds for miles and can hundreds of feet away in water," she explained, still somewhat stumbling over her words. While not stunned, she was definitely taken aback by being put in her place. A man, a human man, that had effectively threatened her, wreathed in blue flames with an orange arm alight. He was as opposite as he could be, but his method of demanding her silence wasn't unlike the Witch Realm.

Tia stopped being of importance, though. Chanterelle was giving Gauss a personal report of her findings over the comms, choosing a channel for him alone. Her findings were illuminating. She wasn't sure how it changed the fight and quite frankly, neither was he. In a way, it created more questions than answers, but it was at least an answer. One he intended to share with everyone he could over open comms.

"According to Chanterelle, that creature is a walking corpse. All of the ape-fish zombies we fought are connected to some type of fungal mass at sea and it infected the corpse of KN9. The nucleus is on the corpse. She said it was teeming with stolen mana; that's probably how it was copying spells," Gauss explained, paraphrasing what Chanterelle had just told him. Quite frankly, he neither understood the magic or the science behind it. Only the basic principles.

"More importantly, there's a new way to fight it. The colony gets stronger the more it controls. Apparently, it's like a brain. Each new thing it controls is like another brain cell. The smarter it is," he told them, providing considerably new information to not only everyone present, but those commanding the artillery at the beach and the other agents on local comms. This was expanded beyond their team channel.

Then he switched back to his team. Well, his team and Tia.

"If you want orders, so be it. Maria, help with the freezing in any way you can. Raph is going to come with Tia to try and suppress the main body of KN9. If he can, Chanterelle may gain more of those zombiefish. Chanterelle is going to force everything she controls to come to dry land and we're going to start destroying as much as we can. That means Ark will be with me and Arkayis will get to burn as many fish and mushrooms as he wants," Gauss told them all, finally giving a specific plan even if it wasn't as cohesive as it could have been. But, then again, what did they expect? He was a Meister and they all used magic.

"Any questions? Figuring out how to destroy it after we freeze is a problem for future us," he asked, though really, he was just pointing out the fact this was a one-problem-at-a-time scenario.

RedArmyShogun Meredith Merciless Medic Peckinou The Regal Rper

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Kisei☆Hoshi​

Deadsoul​

Species Death Golem
Partner Eloise Keegan
Rank Two-Star

Location Castle Kleist, Czech Republic
Mission Blood Hunt
Status Focused

​

Tags: The Regal Rper Haze- Merciless Medic RedArmyShogun Pumpkid

'The only reason we came was to stop the ritual,' Kisei interjected. He spoke quick, his tenor was much higher than normal though rounded off to avoid being peaky, and this type of high stress situation was one of the rare few times the slight Eastern flavor of his accent would appear. 'Fuck everything else, he added, making his stance on the topic clear as day. He didn't care about distractions or even the Duke for that matter, all he cared about was stopping the corruption of the land.

'Look for large concentrations mana. It stands to reason that this ritual would require a lot of it. Not to mention, he probably had to dig down to find a ley line,' Kisei suggested, taking in what little information he could about magic and applying it here. Very few people knew exactly what it took to convert someone into a Bloodsucker. Even young Bloodsuckers normally only knew of their half of the ritual, not the whole thing. Kisei was no exception here. He made assumptions, but they were based in reason. If they could skip unnecessary combat and wastes of time, so be it.

Granted, he was still pretty certain that they would need to kill the Duke. A benefit to the suggestion of sensing large sums of mana was that Dante could do so while Sara scouted. Neither Sara nor Zosar were particularly skilled with sensing magic, but the carrot-top was.

With Elly committed to evading the skeletons, Kisei elected to focus on her speed. He hadn't started resonating with her, not yet. This would likely be a marathon, not a race. Still, they didn't need to resonate for his innate abilities against the undead to take hold. Elly had forgotten his scepter form, it seemed, as that would have made quick work of the skeletons just as it had the Fae wolves back in Wales. He wasn't exactly upset given this just left them as little batteries he could feed on. This was just the beginning, too. It seemed that the obsidian didn't impede his ability to absorb life force. Whether that was because it was Death Scythe semi-magic or his Shinigami traits wasn't clear and it didn't matter.

Kisei was guiding wavelength through Elly to maximize her speed and agility. A load off her mind, more focus on the battle, and better results in general. The true skill of a Demon Weapon was in how much they aided their Meister. Wren and Dante needed to take notes. Every push of her thighs against the hard ground held that much more force because Kisei made sure every fiber in her was receiving spiritual energy as best he could, which was a step above her own skill given she had to focus on swinging his scythes. Give and take, ebb and flow, risks and roles - that was combat for a duo.

Of course, this also meant Elly would get to taste that tingling sensation that came from the additional life force Kisei was absorbing. It wasn't much at the moment. Compared to the Jiangshi and the Baroness, what he could absorb in range was lesser. He was still learning how his abilities worked, but it seemed how much he could absorb over time was directly proportional to the strength of his target. If that was the case, small fry like this fodder would just barely be a buzz.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton​

Date: September 27, 2067
Location: Castle Kleist, Liberec Region, Czech Republic
Interactions: Dante, Elly, Kisei, Zosar, Wren
Mentions: N/A
Pumpkid EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper Haze- RedArmyShogun

This place was huge, but that was part of the course of a castle. On any other day, Sara would love to get a closer look at all this beautiful architecture by crawling all over the place and parkouring to her heart's delight, but this wasn't the time to gawk at the medieval gothic architecture let alone use it as some sort of playground. Honestly, not only did this place look like Castlevania, but also like a necromancer found this castle and slapped a bunch of death motifs everywhere-

Anyway, Sara noticed the obsidian glass covering the walls. It gave the castle a sort of rough skin look, which must look painful if one were to land against those walls.

As they ran inside and with Sara nodding to Elly with a confident smile, she put her nose to use. Sara stuck close to Elly, her nose picking up on... fear. Strange.

"Fear..." She relayed. "Smells like everyone here is afraid. Some are angry and others... smell like a vegetable." She tried to hide her amusement, as it wasn't often she came across someone who smelled vaguely of broccoli. That must have something to do with how much she hates broccoli unless she eats it within other kinds of food, which... She didn't want to think of the implications of that.

As skeletons and lesser vampires came in, Sara huffed. She noted Zosar went ahead to deal with them, so she focused on relaying. "I smell chemicals and antiseptics around here, but my nose is leading me to a wall. There must be something here..." She hummed, looking confused as Kisei spoke of focusing on concentrations of mana. Putting the pieces together that he was referring to Dante because of his anti-magic wavelength, she looked at the shine of Dante's halberd's blades briefly. 'Wait, you can do that?'

Sara also used her agility to avoid the vampires, using her superior speed to blitz around, stepping on floor tiles or hitting the walls, maybe even tugging random statuesque things here. She knew that Kisei said not to worry about anything else, but currently they were dancing with these undead, so there was no pain in doing this. "Even if we did, knowing what we're looking for in terms of secret passages will help us chase after the Duke if he ends up trying to escape." She could tell there had to be a secret passage somewhere. But given she was trying not to get hit, she was just using any part of her body she could to mess with things along the walls and floor, seldom swinging Dante to lop off a skeleton from his waist.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: September 27, 2067
Location: North of Steel Pier, Atlantic City Beach, New Jersey
Interactions: Maria, Ark, Chanterelle, Arkayis, Noah, Gauss, Tia
Mentions: N/A
RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper Meredith Peckinou Sir Les Paul

Sooo, Maria’s answer was not helpful at all. There was no new insight, no commands, just what she was planning to do and some suggestions which didn’t sound helpful. Sure, freezing wasn’t exactly Raphael’s strong suit, but he’d rather have some direction than this. It frustrated him, and he only let out a soft, yet aggravated sigh.

The reason why Gauss had Maria in charge was because the meister had no idea what to do with magic.

At least Tia calmed down now and said what she specialized in.

Then the hail mary of all information - Chanterelle got back to Gauss and he relayed what she said from their personal line. Raphael’s eyes widened. Finally, they had something. Raphael wasn’t sure if his chains would ambiently suppress the freezing on an unfrozen limb if he wasn’t actively wrapping them around the Witch doing it or a frozen limb, but this is where he’d have to try this out.

What slightly soured him was that he had to work with Tia that he yelled at. But, he did want to be better than Arkayis, so he took a deep breath, bit his tongue, and let out a deep sigh. “Alright.” He mumbled, looking at Tia. “Fly me around to the KN9’s back then, Tia, if you’d be so kind.” The words lacked feeling or emotion, an attempt at trying to be cordial and business-like.

Raphael gave Gauss a smile. “No questions from me.” He would wait for Tia to go first before following her, giving her some begrudging about of respect to show him to her bird, trying to salvage this as much as he could so she wouldn’t just drop him.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar & Wren | Czechia, Castle, Duo Trouble

If Elly was having difficulty then Zosar was practically nearsighted. Every Soul was too faint for him to clearly see or even discern what it was, human, undead, or otherwise. He couldn't even pinpoint exact locations like Elly could and if anything her revealing the Duke was above them when he could register faintly his presence but not the huge difference like Elly was speaking of was a sign that against regular agents that were lucky to have her special gift, it'd be quite hard to determine what was what. The only boon he had was the training he had received in picking up on hostile intentions without having to rely on Soul Perception, using pure instinct. Even the slightest bit of hostile or killing intent directed in his general path would get picked up on and make him aware of a presence, just not the direction of where it was precisely. It had been displayed a few times so far: in Lot C and when the others had been killed in the tournament entrance halls.

Though in reality that boon didn't mean that much if he couldn't outdo his opponent, all it did was make him more sensitive to bloodlust and other hostile emotions. Frankly speaking, like Elly, this whole situation made Zosar even less pleased about this place. Especially as they entered the reception hall. He didn't say a word though, all he did was remain in formation, lightly prod Wren to see if her enhanced senses could detect anything, and wait for more information that would be of relevance.

The army of skeletons however did prove much more easier to spot soul perception or not.
‘No real point in trying to sneak around anymore…’ The chainblade kicked up in Zosar’s hand, teeth yanked inward by the chains, screeching until the engine sparkled with spiritual energy and the blade finally roared. Wren was already jotting things down in her mental bingo card. Bloodsuckers were an obvious pick. Next came the possibility of a witch. Undead hounds. Fae spirit. Some form of madness aura. And of course, the old reliable and classic staple of the team this far, a chimera.
There was no time for putting bets yet, the halls flooded with an earthy scent of rot from the undead and all she could do was focus on blocking out the stench. Her nose wasn’t as far reaching as Sara’s, couldn’t pick up the smell of people’s emotion at a whiff like she could, but what she could smell was that enticing, mouth-watering scent of a soul’s strength, the way each stood out from each other — ’I’m only picking up skeletons and bloodsuckers here, cannon fodder. There’s a strong scent punching down from the upper floor into the ceiling, somethin’ big. There’s something else further down, dull and faint but very pungent. Like takin’ a sniff straight out of a pill bottle. Probably that lab I saw from Lee’s memories…’ Wren was only half-guessing in a sense, throwing potshots, seeing as how short her range of smell really was. But they were good guesses nonetheless.

For now, she focused on amping Zosar’s wavelength to swat away the welcoming party as fast as possible. The vampires he moved to meet were actually a bit fast, not fast enough to be a concern but still decently so to be wary of. With Wren's blade already roaring, Zosar cut one down as it made a move and then dodged the other’s sweeping strike, cutting the bloodsucker down as the next group came rushing forward, leaving Wren to take the souls. Two more bloodsuckers to replace the two he just killed moved in, supported by three undead soldiers behind them.

Wren's chain blade was dodged as Zosar struck with a sword thrust, the two bloodsuckers approaching went around him, likely to his back- the skeletons came rushing forward in a surprisingly coordinated group of strikes. One with a shield smashed into Wren to knock his arm askew while the other slashed with a sword he dodged, another came from the left as Zosar dodged the slash with a mace aimed at his free arm which was deflected with the flat of Wren's blade and before Zosar could get a strike in to take advantage of that failed attempt, the third undead came in with a shield bash that Zosar used a foot to propel himself upwards and away from all three, straight towards the two bloodsuckers who had both been timing attacks with magic. One shot arrows of blood straight at the Meister, with Wren's blade as a blocker and the whirling blades that attack was shredded into nothing, the other that had some minor transformative capabilities turned it's fingers into claws a foot long. Both kept their distance as Zosar landed and the skeletons moved behind him, joined by four others that had chosen to take their chances against him rather than the female Meisters.

This was where the advantage of his soul came in. Feeding her chainblade required training to get used to. Doing this admittedly easy technique did require a constant supply of spirit energy to make Wren's blades move. They'd been partners for exactly thirteen days, there had been little time to train given the missions they'd done, so if he had a regular Soul it would have been wiser to appropriately manage their output. With Zosar though it wasn't a big concern. His soul had advantages in reserves and his stamina from his time in Japan had increased greatly.

Unlike Kisei, Dante and her hadn’t had partners till fairly recently. The familiarity she had with Zosar's system was a benefit that didn't necessarily match Dante’s. As a former AW there was some experience and minor advantage Dante provided Sara, but Wren still had to focus the energy, and to get more effective results like Kisei was, she had to focus it into certain areas around his body that, frankly, she still was spiritually exploring even if she was adequate at stabilizing total amplification. As Zosar slashed through two undead and blocked the attack of the clawed vampire- it was obvious he was still the faster one here. The skeletons weren't real threats. They were slow, their numbers were what made them a problem, he got through those with ease, it was the bloodsuckers that were faster. Some were slightly faster than others, and that's when he noticed a specific one that was far faster than the rest.

‘Get ready, I'm gonna hit you with a little bit more.’

‘A little bit more’, wasn't necessarily how it felt though. It never felt like a little more and Wren should have been used to that, just not really in this case. It didn't create a struggle to focus but it was strong. More than a kick as he upped the flow of energy. This happened every time he upped the amount past the standard, there was an effect, it's just this time, it was different from all the others.
This was where for the first time since their partnership Wren would notice something. Not just her though, but her silent roomie would too.

Their shared aching hunger that may have diminished slightly since they began Calm Mind Training suddenly took a noticeable shift. It now felt much fainter. Not like when a real Seal was applied, but different as Zosar dumped energy into her. It wasn't this painful twinge in her gut that demanded she get more, that was gone. Something else replaced that. A feeling unique to her. It wasn't good but it wasn't…bad either, it just was, and it pulsed in her…and was felt by Beel.

Gluttony was a never ending search for stimulus, at core that's how it operated. It's just with Wren, hers focused on hunger rather than the list of other stimulants she could be exposed to. A drive to relish everything without restraint and bask in it, and now that she had clarity- Wren was basking in this clear mind for a moment too. For the first time in a while in midst of a fight she wasn't feeling peckish in the heat of battle per say. What she and Beel felt was a new, unknown, unexplored sensation taking it's place.

This wasn't actually a strange thing in reality. Zosar was very well aware of the effect his soul had on others in resonance with him. Those that managed to get around the challenge of Rejection or the raw Intensity, experienced things different. Wren was only now noticing this because in every other mission there had been greater circumstances that superseded the ability to pay this sort of thing mind from raw stress. Aoi and then her Mad Episode, the Fae mission going astray, the fight they were in right now compared to all those events was basically nothing to those high stress moments.

As Kisei said, this was just a distraction to delay them. Because of that, she could detect things clearly.

She may not have realized it but the sensation she was feeling was a mixture of the raw volume of energy Zosar was giving her along with their emotions in the heat of battle. What triggered this reaction within her soul space however was the amount of energy Zosar was sending her. Her experience was particularly unique, just as it had been for his last partners, not Adra who had her own sort of taste from each rise he gave, but his closest ones. Markus had always felt an increased sense of awareness and an electric rush, bringing things into a hyper focus. Becky, his ex, in the few times they had resonated, felt a flame that energized, pumping intoxicating energy through her body to send back sort of like Elly had experienced with Kisei in the Baroness fight. What Wren felt may have been unique because with her, that new sensation was hard to pinpoint.

One thing became clear to her and Beel, and it might have been surprising. They almost felt full. That was key here, almost, not totally. It was definitely a new experience though. Perhaps the first time they ever had; every other time they'd felt less and less satisfied, more and more hungry till it became annoying, the rare few that looked past her grim entry to FATE had never done that which may have contributed to Rejection cases or the fallout of the partnership. It was a realization for her.

There was another however that hit both Beel and her.

This, this feeling they felt that electrified them, wasn't Zosar even using his full power with them. There was no telling if he ever really had or what would happen if he did, in time would be something to explore. In the fight with Royal Pain he only pushed the max of what she could handle, practically every time that's all he had done to avoid bad turnouts in those intense moments. Right now, what he was giving her was something she could manage without the difficulty she had in the past, but now that they had clarity to really experience things, the realization hit hard as the rush of energy did.

That same energy which was now free for her to disperse as she saw fit.

There was that distinguishable lag from her soul as it processed the energy, chewing it before spitting it back out, not an instant click of resonance and amplification much as it was with everyone else. And as she processed it, it was like being splashed with a bucket of ice cold water. Chilling yet refreshing. That ‘feeling’. Standing there with her face turned to the wind, feeling the world wash down in waves, melt, and become someone else once they’d passed.

Wren found herself with the nerves singing, wide-eyed, the castle outside her soul room shifting, shimmering, pull out and away from her, then come back changed. Only, it hadn’t changed at all. Rather, it was the way she viewed it that changed. The tint had wore off from her glasses, and the world looked still, clearer— focused, without that feral inner compulsion seething at her core, clawing like a wild animal at her insides to get out. The hunger had gone still, she felt awake.
Not in the same way she felt ‘awake’ when Kisei forced the seal on her. It was more natural. A moment of vivid clarity in a lucid, hungry dream. Threads of self-consciousness slowly filtering back in. And in her awareness, her focus, Wren could only sneer at that echoing cackle from the fiend in her soul room. They both knew it was fleeting, that she would be back in wonderland once it passed.
It was bittersweet, but liberating all the same. She could forget about the pit in her stomach without having to put in the effort to block it out. It was still there, hadn’t gone anywhere, it just wasn’t…demanding. Wren guided the amped wavelength, splitting it evenly for a calculated unbalance of strength and reflex in Zosar’s upper body and a slight quickness on his feet. Focusing more on brawn, less on finesse. They wouldn’t be nearly as fast as Elly, but they would sure as hell hit harder.
’Y’ heard ‘em. Let’s push through. I wanted to see what was up with that lab but I have a uhh— She took a beat, chuckled awkwardly to herself before drawing a not-so-enthusiastic sigh ’—Inkling of a feeling we’ll find out about that either way once we reach the ritual site.’

Got it Queen.
Taking out the bloodsuckers wouldn't be difficult with the minor boost she had applied anyway.

Collabers: Haze-

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul Pumpkid Merciless Medic

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov
New York City - North of JFK International - NYC
September 26th​

As explanations were given and questions answered, Nadia laughed, a bemused chuckle, her face broken into what amounted to a smile for her as she pieced it all together, the Paladin from the church was of little help, giving just as much information to answer the question while not compromising anything significant. Which made her suspect all the more that he was omitting something.

Still, that was not the cause of her laughter, that was the words of the bloodsucker. Mostly as it had dawned on her how fucked she would be when all of this was said and done, and not in a good way. While she would defend her choices, all of those would come to nothing if they didn't uncover at least something of the witches. The fact they melted as he put it, well, this was clearly a black op. The question now was had the Maba lost her damn mind, or were these illegal witches in a masquerade, at the least she believed she could discount Eros's return being behind this. Rogue witches were a good choice to lay the blame. Then there was the fact she still hadn't heard from Feng...

Still, there was what he had said before, about the nature of her allies. "Had your own not acted as they did, I would not have been against working with you. And, ah what is that most Christian of expressions? Let the first among you to be without sin to cast the first stone. What you say is indeed true, but I only care in resolving this incident and saving the millions of lives at risk.

Had the Devil himself came before me offering help, I would at least say something favorable about him. My homeland has a history of making alliances in the here and now. Should my allies go against me or the DWMA, then they will be dealt with. I am far more pragmatic than you to deny help. If it allows them to gain something of a good light with the public? Well, that is a small price to pay." If the true nature of her feelings were to be known, she didn't much trust the predators of mankind. But this group had earned a parlay, and as she said, stopping KN9.

"As the old song Goes, Moskov is behind us. Or in this case New York. Once the monster is dealt with, other questions can be resolved. Though it seems in this case there are more questions than answers." Now there was just getting Dani calmed down, then salvaging all of this.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (Adrian/NPC's) The Regal Rper (NPC's)

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Atlantic City - New Jersey​

With the reactions that came to force, and the words of Guass, she had felt she had made a mistake. If they meant to burn it, then would it not be best to enact what she had said before? It was her own fault for relying on who was, from a point of view, the weakest of them or at least in the current situation. Still, it was not bad to focus on one problem at a time. The question now for Maria was if she could let the energy linger, making use of it later. Or if it would just fade from existence, intermingling with the air around them.

Still, she could not just cast the responsibility of command on him, then disagree with what was said... She did not mind people being above her, even Mirai had a boss, though she also did things to her own designs and desires. Should she have done the same? Likely, yes. But here it was not best to just go on her own whims. Or so she reasoned, perhaps that is why those in command of magic had not defeated humanity in spite of many attempts. Witches were creatures of emotion and spontaneous desire, the fact she felt the Meister was likely tired, no was tired of hearing them talk, reminded her much of the fool she had renamed accidentally.

Speaking back over the comms, Maria decided she would not depend on the Meister so much, it was unfair to just cast the responsibilities upon him. Much as she had done with Rand and Dall Island. "I... I'll do as you instructed, should the situation change, I will act as I see fit." Turning her attention back to her air compression and drawing of the heat it was not time to see what would happen and how the rest's actions would play out.

Interactions: Merciless Medic (Raph-Noah) Meredith (Chanterelle) Sir Les Paul (Gauss) Peckinou (Arkayis) The Regal Rper (Ark)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Hoshi Estate, Death City, Nevada
Calm Mind Training​

1013 | September 24th, 2067​

It was Saturday morning and Kisei had outlined the plans for the day: setting the foundation and expectations for Calm Mind training. He had messaged both Zosar and Wren to meet up at 10:15AM at Death Backs Café. Zosar whined some nonsense about wanting to see Sara that day, but Kisei was pretty stern that Calm Mind training was going to take precedence. If they got out in time to head off, it would only be because they took to the lessons exceptionally well.

He doubted either of them would. Zosar with a Volatile Soul would be inherently difficult even with his Hoshi training; Wren already possessed Madness, making this an uphill battle. Nonetheless, anything was possible.

For the moment, Kisei sat at a table, sipping on a bit of tea and eating a toasted bagel with a touch of cream cheese and blueberry spread. It was warm. It was pleasant. Most importantly, it had no caffeine and the sugar in it all was fairly minimum. He had warned both Zosar and Wren to avoid coffee, even if they were at Death Backs. Sugar, caffeine, really any kind of stimulant this morning would undoubtedly come back to bite them in the ass.

Time to see if they listened.

Then again, maybe Kisei was just asking for too much.

It was a café after all. What was she supposed to do? Sit around and not order any?

Whatever warning he gave her— whatever she could make out from the blurry, eye-stinging mess she’d read early morning when Kisei’s notification roused her from her slumber— had been long forgotten by then. She’d gotten out of bed, through inward jeers and the notion that this meet-up was work related, stumbled and forced herself into decent looking clothes like a drunk— and now there she was at Death Backs with bags under her eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness.

She was there on time, at least “Hey, hey, heeey,”A drawling, familiar voice came up behind Kisei, followed by the obnoxious clamor of seats dragging and scraping against the floor. As if she were bumping into everything while she walked “If it isn’t my favorite Hoshi in the whole world…took me a bit to find ya’, this place ’s pretty crowded…”

Wren threw herself into one of the seats, right across the table from Kisei, without so much as waving a lazy hand at him. There was a fresh cup of cappuccino in her hand, topped with a couple of plastic sugar baggies nestled atop the plastic lid, a little green straw. She set it on the table, tapping a nail on it while her eyes seemed to blink with a lag. One shutting, the other following two seconds too late.

“Yer’ actually the only Hoshi I know, now that I think about it…”Her chin quivered, an instinctive frown forming on her face while her jaw got to tensing up— Wren yawned. Dangled her coffee at the coffee-less Hoshi, almost mockingly “I’m sure they’re all lovely people…Anyways,” She clenched her jaw, popped a clogged ear, awareness suddenly coming up in her eyes “Y’ said we were…training today, right?”

“That would be correct.” Zosar's voice answered and as he nodded his hello to Kisei, he proceeded to swipe Wren's cup.

Wren jumped at Zosar’s sudden appearing act, proof that the Hoshi had trained him well. He’d gotten past the radar of a half-asleep werewolf “H-Hey!” She lurched across the table, trying to snatch her coffee back, ended up just grasping at empty air“I paid for that, y’know!?”

“And you're not supposed to be taking a hit of this right before we start.” Though given he hadn't seen her get the cup and had entered visible sighting range late, she may have already been on her fourth. “He did say we should avoid sugar and caffeinated drinks before training, right?”

“I—” She made a face, sour, leaving a hand raised as the words started to slowly drool out of her mouth. Her brain was over-working itself to remember what exactly Kisei had texted her “Right…?”

“Right…” Wren sighed, crossing her arms with a petty frown “Morning, by the way.”

”I wouldn’t call us.. lovely people,” Kisei responded, picking out one key comment that he felt deserved some recognition. With the appearance of Zosar, Kisei could only tilt his head up and over, staring at his former pupil while he elected to nab Wren’s coffee. Probably a wise decision for the sake of training, but a poor one in terms of etiquette and their budding partnership.

Nonetheless, Kisei didn’t let his judgemental nature pour out through his words. No, those eyes of his were stone cold; one being such a dark brown that it bordered on black and the other a mix of a dull red and brown. A definite contrast to those off-color eyes of Zosar, but still more similar than not given both had such a rare trait.

Kisei let his eyes wander back over to Wren as she came to terms with her now uncaffeinated existence.

”Good morning to you, too,” Kisei replied, at least being cordial after having demanded both of them rip themselves from their beds to meet him. That said, though, neither of them should have been in bed at this time. No self-respecting agent slept that late. Again, though, he didn’t let that judgmental thought seep into his outward appearance.

”Alas, I don’t dare call you my favorite werewolf in the whole wide world… If such got back to Sara, I’m sure her heart would be broken,” Kisei went on, cantering his head over, smiling softly, and making light small talk out of the word play Wren had just used earlier. In a clear bit of imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, he try his best to copy her tone and cadence while he also repeated her words.

Those eyes of his shifted over to Zosar and became a touch more sharp. A notable contrast to the way they drifted around Wren.

”Speaking of Sara, I cannot promise that you’ll be finished in time to meet her at any reasonable hour,” Kisei informed him. His general tone was much faster and more direct, as if that slightly playful side he was showing earlier had just been beaten into the ground like Cyrus did to the Hoshi during their day. ”Calm Minding training is a, uh… large time investment. A good portion of it is self-guided, too; so these early sessions are aimed at making sure you can train alone and make headway,” Kisei explained, not trying to make the task sound daunting.

He nodded in understanding.

The Hoshi then finally leaned back in his seat and inhaled a deep breath of air, holding it for a moment before letting loose a relaxing exhale.

”No caffeine, limit the sugar–you’ll thank me later,” Kisei said quickly, not really directed at either one of them, but both. ”I would suggest you get something to eat on the way there. Bagel, muffin–bacon on a stick for all I care. Actual hunger is a distraction, so we will need to take breaks for meals,” he explained, continuously hitting on that point that focus was paramount.

Then completely disregarding it as he elected to taunt Wren by picking up up his toasted bagel, giving it a gentle shake back and forth in front of Wren–not unlike what she had done with her coffee–then electing to bite right into it, dramatically tearing off the piece of dense bread only to accentuate the gesture.

The creeping amused smile on Zosar's face as he watched wasn't hidden in the slightest. “If it's any encouragement,” patting Wren on the shoulder, “I'll pay you back for the coffee after training.”

She watched Kisei chomping on his bagel with high brows, an unamused look in her eye— one that betrayed the low grumbling at her stomach, shattering her nonchalant, unfazed act. Wren winced, twisted her lip. She turned to look at the hand on her shoulder with an insultingly big, fanged smirk “Oh, will you now~? Mighty generous…” She dug her sights straight into Zosar’s bi-colored eyes, a half-lidded glare, devoid of any apparent intent— yet full of it all in the same.

Without any spoken threat, she had let him know that his wallet would soon be in danger.

The wereweapon turned to look at Kisei, her entire body tilting to the right as a hand reached down to her side. She started, with the sound of a bag unzipping just under the table, speaking almost matter-of-factly; as if she were disappointed in Kisei assuming she would go hungry to their little trip “Clearly,”— Plastic rustled inside the bag before she flicked it up with a hand, with a show-man’s flare, having it do a couple of pirouettes midair before she speared it with her other hand — “You’re unfamiliar with my game.”
It was a bag of— double crunch— chips, big eye-sore-y colors, “Cheddar & Sour Cream” plastered on the front in bold white letters. She pinned it on the table, before a swift nail came down like an executioner’s hatchet, dissecting the bag clean down the middle.

She snatched a potato chip between her fingers, brought it to her mouth, gave it an annoyingly loud, over-exaggerated crunch “It shouldn’t really take us that long anyways, right? We should have time to meet up with…Sara, was her name? Yeah,” She questioned, genuinely being unable to picture how ‘meditating’ or ‘clearing the soul’ could take as long as Kisei warned them it could.

After a thoughtful moment, chin resting at her palm, a grin formed on Wren’s face, lazily turning an eye at Zosar “At least for me, it shouldn’t take long. I’ll have you two know that I’m pretty much a pro when it comes down to this Calm Mind Training thing.”

Her partner made a faint throat sound ‘mm’ but internally he was rolling his eyes.

She turned a hand to her face, checking her nails, huffing on them “Hell, I was practically doing it the whole time while we were out on those missions. Imagine how that shit-show would’ve turned out if I wasn’t so good at it.” Wren held her hand up, turning her face away, eyes squinting to a dramatic close as a feigned frown scrunched up her face “Now, now— I know I’m sooo fuckin’ cool and all— but I won’t take any praise for it. I was just doing my job…”

”I’m curious though,” Unexpectedly, she dropped the goofball act for half-a-second ”Are you gonna have us meditating under a waterfall or somethin’? What’s so special about this training you want to put us on? They’ve already inducted me on the basics of CMT,” She explained, completely making up the abbreviation to her very whim ”But I never understood how to go any further than just…zoning out.”

Wren certainly possessed a flair for theatrics. Her antics were more physical, too. It was a trait Kisei himself shared–at least in his younger years. Which, admittedly, weren’t even half-a-decade ago, but were technically a lifetime to him. In fact, technically two. There was an era where he would show off his physical capabilities, using them to awe and amuse much like Wren did. Difference being, Kisei was an Autonomous Weapon trained by the Hoshi. The types of tricks he did were more generally grating with a touch of competitive showmanship.

Then Wren decided to begin questioning things. She thought she was hot shit. Sexy Italian werewolf or not, she wasn’t the main character she thought she was. Her use of Calm Mind training was therapeutic and thus helpful, but her boasting about it came from sheer ignorance. Apparently, she didn’t understand the value of the seals she could attain beyond her current level. It was time she was taught that lesson.

He didn’t answer her. At least, not verbally.

Instead, what happened was a mild spike in his wavelength. Zosar could have seen it if he was paying attention: Kisei intentionally amplified himself to move so quickly that Wren had next-to-no chance to react before he touched her. Werewolf or not, Wren was limited by her mortal eyes. In short, it was a complete surprise when the palm of his hand pressed against her forehead. His fingertips ran through the front of her hair, his thumb hovered just over her temple, but most importantly, there was plenty of skin contact.

Kisei was about to demonstrate how effective his own Wavelength Regulation was in addition to what it meant to be at the Second Seal. He could do things that few could, like Reiko–though she could probably surpass his own abilities if she wanted.

What Kisei did was use his own wavelength to create the first Calm Seal between the mind and soul of Wren. A Calm Seal wasn’t actually a seal at all. It was more like a trench or a ravine. It was the act of separating the mind and soul so much that the separate became stable, much like pulling apart magnets so far they no longer pulled back, and furthermore no longer allowing the Madness inherent to the soul and mind to intermingle, meaning that suddenly the feedback loop was broken.

For Wren, the effects were immediate. Hunger and a minor amount of Madness were present inside of her at all times. It was just the nature of the beast. All humans had a touch of Madness inside them. Hers now became totally silent. The little voice inside of her head held no sway over her. The Madness Entity, while the Seal was in place, might as well not have existed. In her mind for the first time in likely years, she didn’t suffer from any urge or pull no matter how minor from her hunger. More so, she felt truly satiated. No hunger, no void inside her stomach, no urge to eat more. It was gone. That was the power of a Calm Seal.

Once he knew it was in place, Kisei only tilted his head while staring at Wren, waiting for her response. She could freak out that he just palmed her head. It wouldn’t hurt, but would be a definite surprise. On the other hand, the feelings–or lack thereof–would potentially be an ever greater surprise. It was an answer to a question she hadn’t asked, at least not directly.
Whatever reaction Kisei was hoping to get, it didn’t come immediately. It was a slow burn. For her, it was.
Wren sat glaring at Kisei, staring at his retreating hand like he’d just stabbed her. Completely pale, dead still. Processing the feeling, the quietude. The emptiness buzzing at her skull.
It was as if he’d regrown a phantom limb she didn’t remember even losing— gave her sight after years in the dark, drowning at the depths of the ocean. Familiar, and somehow still alien. She stood from her seat without even uttering a word, seat groaning against the floor, a dumbfounded look on her face. Wondering if that anxious, off-beat drumming at her chest right now was excitement— gasping desperately at the oxygen long denied to her— or just fear. Second-guessing if she wanted to be up there at surface level breathing the same air as Zosar or Kisei, if she deserved to be.
Wren palmed her own forehead, mirroring Kisei, trying to make sense of things. Zosar didn’t have that strong, flavorful scent drawing her in anymore. He was just…meat. Human meat. Bland. Nasty. Metallic. A scent everyone had years before her madness outbreak, a scent she’d forgotten entirely.
Something about it didn’t sit right in her stomach. It was too abrupt, too vivid. Awfully bitter, as well. It wasn’t permanent, not a fix, Kisei had just shown her what she was missing. In a way, it had woken her up more than that coffee would have.
She inched a hand over to the open bag of chips still on the table, too unfocused to even keep her werewolf transformation up, shrinking a head lower the moment she snatched a bite out “How?” Crunching it in her mouth, savoring it, Wren didn’t know if that had been the best or worst potato chip she’d had in years. She shook her head, coming back down on her seat “No, no— fuck that…”
”You’ll teach us, right?” Even through the almost perpetual deadpan the Calm Seal had left her with, Kisei and Zosar could see a determined glint in her narrow eyes. Seeing her this serious about anything was quite the sight, if one could put it that way. It was out of place in a sense.

For the briefest moment there had been real concern creeping in underneath the neutral curious expression Zosar fronted. At the end of it all, when she asked her question he was the one that replied.

“That's what we're here for. Now that you got the spark lit, let's get started. Ready to begin.” The last words turning to Kisei.
Kisei tilted his head slightly while he watched Wren partake in that chip. Her facial expressions and enjoyment of it struck him as one of those Deathtok shorts around eating food. Not a category he personally enjoyed, but one he recognized. It struck him then how powerful of an example Wren was. This obviously wasn’t some kink. This Madness bleeding over into physical form.
A sound soul dwells within a sound mind and a sound body.
Her madness was not sound. She wasn’t just compelled to eat. She felt ravenous. She felt hunger. In the same way someone responding to Kishin Asura and his fear might have their adrenaline spike, Wren likely had her body either producing more ghrelin or activating its receptors. If she tasted things differently, it might not be entirely in her head. It may be physical. At times, she may have smelled scents that weren’t actually present, but there was a solid chance now that Kisei watched her that it wasn’t all in her head. She may have been experiencing stronger, more drastic reactions to real stimuli.
This might be something to ask a specialist about. Reiko or Salem came to mind.
Snap back to reality. Wren was asking questions and Kisei was half-daydreaming about the implications of her condition. It was a good thing he had a damn-good poker face.
”What I specifically did was temporarily create the first Calm Seal using Wavelength Regulation,” Kisei explained, maining a neutral expression and tone as this was mostly just factual information. ”Unfortunately, I did have to take you by surprise; I’m not talented enough to use Wavelength Adjust to force it,” he added, though really in the same tone aside from the touch of humility.

”The point was to illustrate the difference in using Calm Mind training and actually having a Calm Seal,” Kisei told them both, livening up as he went into detail about his actions.

”I’ll explain on the way,” Kisei told them, nabbing the rest of his bagel and a napkin before slipping out of the booth and waiting for them to put in any food order, if they intended to. After that, it was a brisk walk to the Hoshi Embassy.

”The fundamentals of Calm Mind training are useful. I’m sure you’ve seen that,” Kisei said, following through with his offer to explain as they walked. Between bites of his bagel, of course. ”Truth is, you are actually fairly good with those fundamentals. Much better than Zose, at least,” Kisei continued, guiding them through the now shrinking streets as they broke off from the main walk ways of the historical district.

Mentally, a ‘fair’ popped into the Meister's head. Wasn't like either of his parents or Hiroshi were here to hear what his mother would have considered a failure on his part given the multiple hours he had on his own to practice. Albeit not always a perfect student.

”The thing is, all those skills are building-blocks.” Kisei went on. “They are useful and always will be, but they don’t prevent a problem and you must constantly focus on using them. That’s where a Calm Seal differs,” he told them, turning back and lifting up his finger to emphasize this specific point.

”Once you master the fundamentals–focus, medication, even some wavelength control–you can separate your mind and soul so much that it creates a small rift between them. Normally, that rift naturally wants to close. The trick here is two-fold: the rift must be made big enough that it can’t easily pull itself back together and maintaining that rift must be second nature. Once you can make that rift and maintain it without actively focusing on it, you have what we call a seal,” he went on explaining, though he did have to come to a stop. He lifted his hand so that the back of it faced both Wren and Zosar, telling them to stop.

Which made sense. They were at the gate of the Hoshi estate. Kisei had to scan his badge over a security plate embedded into the stone pillar that made up part of the gate, which itself was a type of black iron. If one thought a Japanese gate would be a red torii, they were probably a little ignorant of their ways. In fact, the Hoshi Estate was fairly understated. Zosar would recognize a majority of the style. Beaten dirt paths lead to most of the buildings and the buildings themselves were separated out fairly evenly with only a few larger ones near the back of the lot the estate was built into.

Kisei had educated Zosar on the exact architectural style before. Houses were built similar to the Muromachi period in Japan, specifically adapting aesthetics from their zen temples and government buildings. Most of the houses were built well off the ground with a foundation of brick that led up to eastern-style buildings. For Wren, most of this might be new. There were some adaptations, modern upgraded niceties of the homes. Unlike the actual Hoshi Homeland, they could easily get better materials and installments here. Electricity, internet, running water, and metallic fences were present. The Hoshi homeland had that only in limited quantities. Essentially, built from what the clan members were willing to haul up a literal mountain.

”We’ll be going to the temple,” Kisei told them, pointing over what must have been at least two city blocks worth of walking to the furthest-back portion of the lot where a large, red building with a black-tile roof stood out solely due to its size over the other buildings. Then it was another walk down the dirt road.

Whereas, in another moment, Wren would have strolled through the Hoshi estate with big, sparkling eyes, passing hands around the architecture like a child, now she only walked with her sights glued to the road as they went on. Unconsciously counting the odd pebble or two they’d pass on the dirt road. Frowning like she hated the road, doing a scissoring motion with a hand pocketed inside her jacket. Compulsive, over and over again, trying to picture in her head what Kisei meant by ‘separating’ the soul and the mind. As Kisei was gesturing over to the far-off temple, Wren had made up her mind about— he was making that Buddhist shit up. He must’ve been. That, or she was too peanut-brained to understand it.

Not that she couldn’t wrap her head around it. Conceptually, at least, it sounded simple enough. It was the idea of putting it in practice that had her with mixed feelings about it. She just couldn’t picture herself doing it, forcing the soul away from her mind consciously.

”It can take years to actually establish a Calm; though it has been done in just a few months… those with a particularly strong mind can accomplish it,” Kisei explained to them, again, just being factual, ”most of the time, the DWMA waits until you’re in your mid-twenties to actually train for a seal. Common belief is that the older or more mature you are, the easier it is.”

“Years?” Wren scoffed, deflating with a defeated, nervous grin starting to spread across her face. She sucked in a breath, trying to puff up the chest, keep up that burning determination of hers from back at Death Backs.

“Like, about a week or two for me then. No big deal…” Unlike her usual jests, this one lacked that characteristic, confident neutrality in tone that had you wondering whether she was being serious or not. No, it was the complete opposite. This one was just openly sarcastic, hesitant. Like she was trying to liven herself up.

That just made him think of his father. Ramirez couldn't have been 25 when he started had he? Thinking on it, he couldn't quite recall how old his old man would be even now. In the moment he just remembered what he had been educating, realistically convincing him against, on the nature of EAT Meisters and more when as a kid he had expressed interest in training.

Hindsight really made him realize it had been youthful pride believing martial arts was comparable to his early training and the rougher Hoshi training regimen.

The sight of this place did make him wonder, did his father come here before he, Hiroshi, and Icarus became part of the task force that chased down the worst cases of MIBVI with all the others? Kisei's comment on Wren's better wrap-around fundamentals made him wonder where he could or did fit. Instead he decided to dip in a bit, and ask for input. If he was to learn to be better for Wren, holding back everything might just be his own hubris and downfall.

“I did have a question now that you bring that up. With the old group” avoiding ‘my old crew', “I spent some time learning Calm Mind, it was a requirement before I could begin. A small part of that started with tutelage but overtime, it became strictly more of a self-practice after I was cleared to be on field. Wasn't the greatest at it going in, and I had clear moments where I recall back in the forest where I thought I was in control when I wasn't. Is there a way, once we are starting, for me to gauge where I need to work on most? To avoid y'know something like that from happening again.”

Really, what he was asking is how do I avoid duping myself the way I did before. That sort of mindset was dangerous, and he knew at the very least it was a mindset he had displayed a few times before.

Zosar brought up a few valid points with his questions. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly easy to follow-up with his previous training. Hiroshi wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with the DWMA, nor was he in their system. It wasn’t as if Kisei could just click a few buttons to track his progress. Worse, Calm Mind training was something that generally required some type of observation to see how far along someone was. Kisei could evaluate where he was now, but he couldn’t possibly know the progress.

”I can gauge how well you two can separate your mind from your souls by watching you as you meditate in your Soul Space, but I honestly suggest we not do that,” Kisei told them, guiding them through the estate and making their way to the temple. Through its open gate and opening its door, one of the few with proper hinges in the entire estate.

”I believe it best that we start from scratch using the most successful, known techniques,” he explained as he guided them through the temple. It wasn’t terribly ornate, but its design reflected the Japanese aesthetic as authentically as possible. The floor was mostly matts, wood was adorned virtually every surface. A small zen garden was the centerpiece of the large room they entered first, which was honestly more of a hall given that the second floor was entirely open above it. In any case, it wasn’t their final destination.

”With a Volatile Soul and predisposition to Madness, the more traditional, thorough methods are what I was suggested to use, and I can’t say I disagree,” Kisei continued, explaining that their circumstances called for a slight heavier hand in training.

Through the left archway he took them and into a large, rectangle room with another closed-off archway on its right side, but that door was just one that went on to a different room. They were, in fact, in their final destination. It was yet again, a fairly traditional room. Wood flooring designed around a large center which itself had those same tatami mats. Aside from four structural pillars, the room was pretty simple in design. What did stand out was the myriad of off-colored candles standing atop wooden poles in the room, all centered around the middle.

And, of course, Kisei walked right over to it.

Observing Kisei's path gave the meister a general sense of what they might be doing.

But just in case it wasn’t abundantly clear, “So, what’s this room about?” the wereweapon gave a nod, a cue for Kisei to spill info straight into their ignorant skulls (info that she would likely forget the day after). Asking, for the sake of breaking the eeriness of the silence that loomed in the candle-lit room, more than anything else.

It was hard to be curious when every word that came out of Kisei’s mouth somehow managed to sound progressively more ominous than the last.

She left her backpack at the foot of the door, dropping it like it were a tall stack of weighted sandbags piled on top of each other, walked with a hunch, care in her still wobbly step. Determined as she was to learn, it still didn’t take away from the lack of sleep she was running on. Wren passed a claw through the wood pillars as they neared the center, pretending to look stoic while she listened to Kisei.

Grimacing, quickly shoving her hand back into her pocket when she noticed she accidentally left a scratch on the surface— pretending now that no-one had seen that whatsoever. Wren cleared her throat “Do you mean ’traditional and thorough’ as in, antiquated and slow, or as in old reliable?” Her mind had already drifted straight into comparing it to training at the dojo, working out at, wondering if there was a gym rat’s method to it, too.

If there were eccentrics to it, a tempo, working the tension slow to burn yourself out more. If you could be an ass about it and push it until you couldn’t no more, wake up with your arms sore and perpetually tucked to your chest— 50/50 on whether or not you end up stronger after a week or just have to go to the doctor because you pulled something.

Wondering, making a stretch, equating it to each other. If she spent hours on end meditating in her soul space with that annoying little jester whispering evil into her ear, would the process end up being faster? “Hm…” There wasn’t any voicing of these ideas, no more than a non-verbal wag of her tail: For the sake of not coming off as a dumbass to Kisei— talking about stress and strain in a mental exercise that required the exact opposite.

The brain was a muscle, after all. So she’s heard.


”In all honesty, a little of both,” Kisei answered, tilting his head over as he did. He mulled over the question for only a half-second when she asked it, recognizing very quickly that all four words she used as descriptors were accurate. They were not mutually exclusive.

In one of the corners of the room was a stand with several sticks and a lighter. A simple Bic lighter; as thematic as the room was, there happened to be no reason to make something like fire starting any more complex than it needed to be. He set fire to the edge of the long stick, it now giving off a small, gentle flame and small amount of smoke.

”As for the room, there’s nothing special about it. The candles are a different story,” he explained in the middle of his stick-lighting process. ”The candles are in part made from the flowers of the sakaki tree. When burned, they passively suppress Madness to a minor degree. The scent of the candles can also have a calming effect,” he continued to explain, going over the more specific details of the candles and what they did.

He then began to walk around the myriad of candles that created a circle around the center and lit them one by one with the lit stick in his hand, which due to its length, was far easier than trying to get that smaller lighter near each wick. ”They’ve been known to have this trait for thousands of years. Considered sacred in Shinto, often surrounding shrines. Unfortunately, they’re not actually that powerful. Compared to collars or an actual wavelength, they’re much weaker,” he continued, still rattling off some facts as he lit the candles; that there weren’t plenty to go through.

”That’s the point here, though. I could have sent you to Reiko and she is skilled enough to suppress your Madness entirely and still your wavelength. She may not transform or fight like I do, but basically every skill I have–she has, but better,” he admitted, a rare moment of shining a light on one of the other mentors, ”but if I did that, you wouldn’t be learning or getting better. You need to learn how to get there on your own. These candles only dull the edge, so you shouldn’t ever get reliant on them.”

One-by-one, the circle of candles were lit and as promised, there was a mild feeling of suppression. Wren would feel it more. It was hardly comparable to the Calm Seal, but it was at the very least a small reprieve. More so, the candles smelled good and possessed some type of soothing effect on a physical level. It was just nice, like incense. Even Zosar could have felt his volatile almost rolled over, as if the slightest bit less spiky. EAT classes referenced rare materials that had spiritual effects, but they were often cliff notes. Things tossed to the wayside like alchemy was in the advent of science.

The information lit a spark in his head, a patchwork image of Hiroshi lighting candles and how a younger him had called the whole process ‘boringly anticlimactic and cliche’ compared to what he had expected their training to start out with him lifting…heavy things, it really just was a mental jolt that passed by. And truthfully made Zosar roll both shoulders without realizing it. He considered asking something along the lines of how that memory followed in that period of training, but opted not to.

Making too many assumptions might just lead him into thinking that he would rapidly pick this up, like he had initially presumed his Hoshi training would go before the actual start and the goal he was aiming to achieve at this moment, was to avoid that exact sort of thinking. At the same time, the flicker of the Chimera in his mind’s eye, stirred a keen interest in wanting to make the most out of this experience. Kenny was the prime example of where he wanted to be, where he aimed to be, even if he wasn't the perfect comparison he was the closest to what having efficient mastery of his wavelength looked like. Wren's questions were, to be frank, insightful at least. If it was a combination of the slow method and the standard traditional, then he would be willing to do exactly that.
“If slow and steady wins the race…” She gave a half-approving, half-anxious nod, shoulders rising as she sucked in a breath. Unlike Zosar, rolling his shoulders and loosening up, Wren went completely stiff— save for the tail restlessly swinging side to side behind her. ‘Get there on your own’ was a daunting sentence, hard to chew on. Threw her off kilter, made her feel like she was swallowing rocks with every breath, like there was a knot tightening in her chest. A knot slowly unwinding with the help of that soothing scent in the air, from the candles, but harsh in the center of her chest anyway.

That apprehension was beginners’ anxiety, or at least that’s what she’d like to tell herself. The wereweapon scoffed, wondering where that confidence of hers had gone off to before hustling up to the center of the circle. Moving out of inertia, thinking that’d help ease the nerves “I’m assuming we just…” She lowered to sit with her legs criss-crossed on the floor, hesitantly. Eyebrows high up as she shared deadpan glances between Zosar and Kisei, arms thrown out in a shrug “Right? Am I being a dumbass right now?”

“This looks like one of those meditating rooms from those old, schlocky martial arts flicks,” She crossed her arms, the image of what a ‘meditating room’ looked like in her mind unclear “Yer’ not gonna tell me we're just gonna stand there in the middle and not meditate.”

“No one said we wouldn't, whole reason we are here after all” his hand patting her shoulder where she sat, an encouraging squeeze and rub. Then sitting across, he joined suit. If at least to wait for further instructions.

The apprehension from Wren was palpable. Her entire attitude had shifted, almost doing a complete one-eighty, and it created a tension so thick that it could be cut with a butter knife. Meanwhile, Zosar was falling in line–as expected. He had done a variant of this in the past, though that was likely so long ago and not kept up as a process that most of its benefits were lost in his current state. At the very least, it made him aware of the process.

Wren on the other hand was becoming her own worst enemy. Overthinking, overfeeling, working herself up over what would be a fairly simple process that just so happened to take place over a fairly extended time frame. All those questions about meditating were defeating the original purpose of relaxation.

Kisei was about to attempt a novel approach of shifting her mind away from her anxiety before they started. He continued lighting the candles, the semi-circle bringing him slowly but surely around behind the two as the wicks were ignited one-by-one. Half-done at this point.

”You don’t just stand and you don’t just meditate,” Kisei answered, his voice still clearly a few feet off by the candles. He had a whole follow-up explanation for the next step, but it would have to wait. Instead, with his voice acting as a decoy from behind, he quickly darted over to Wren and gently gave her tail… a little yank.

The act itself, given Zosar was directly across from Wren with space in between them and could see Kisei clearly behind her, didn't strike him with the same surprise it would her. With his experience with members of a few werewolf packs, he had seen a similar gimmick pulled several times among his squadmates and the members of a smaller militarized group of a variant clan’s members.

Granted those squadmates of his and those werewolf members had years of rapport to go off of. And often times the one who did the ole Tail Pull trick was a member of the werewolf species, regardless their reactions had been tame even if irritated by the action itself, even if it served the purpose of getting one's attention.

It was a crude distraction, but given how sensitive those tails generally were, the rationale that it would be an effective one, made sense.

Wren's reaction however was beyond Zosar's guess. Kisei's reason for taking that route fit in a half formed puzzle, where he knew quite well that the purpose was to pull her attention away, but at the same time, wouldn't have gone for the tail given his personal experiences, regardless he intended on assisting. Despite his impartial expression watching the whole thing in real time, the young man was ready to assist in Kisei's attempt at aiding in distracting. In its own peculiar way, it was just like old times with the squads.

Depending on how Wren herself responded of course.

“I mean, I don’t know how the Hoshi do things.” She shrugged, letting Zosar’s hold lean her into him “Kisei might just tell us we’re about to do handstands and pirouettes— think about it.” As she was about to turn to look at those steps steadily beating behind them, already forming a snark remark, a sharp feeling pulling across her spine took the words out of her mouth. Yanked them out, rather.

“Are w—” Her back shot up straight, and a stifled, guttural sound passed up her throat. Whole upper body twisting dramatically like she’d just gotten caught in livewire, electricity jolting through her bones. Wide-eyed, regaining her composure— Wren snarled and shot a glare over her shoulder, near shouting at Kisei “The hell was that for???” For a split moment of raised brows and scowls, she glanced at Kisei’s figure shadowed by the candles, trying to figure him out. Until an idea popped up in her head, and she ran with it.
“C-Chill out, weirdo.” Wren smacked a hand up to her forehead, silver bangs pressed under her palm, raising her free-hand up to a fighting? stance with her fist balled. The primal slits on her pupils thinned, and she tried looking out for his hands, expecting a sneak attack like what he’d pulled at Death Backs. Not that she could’ve prevented it anyways “What’re y’ trying to do?”

It wasn’t until she noticed the lack of that distinguishable sound against her ear— the sound of her own tail swishing behind her— that her fist dropped to her side. Wren turned her eyes down to look at it completely still, slumped on the ground— just now realizing that it was that noticeable to them too.

She grunted, narrowing her eyes at her furred limb. Like it was her tail’s fault “I get it, I get it.” Wren sighed, raised her hands in surrender “I’m fine, just a bit antsy. Don’t worry about it.”

Mental note, tail yank may have some actual use here, thought Zosar.

“An important thing I learned when I was starting,” Zosar offered, since he wasn't about to directly respond to her brushing off the concern, “is to keep your mind at ease before stuff like this. Overthinking things never helps, in fact the most important thing you should be doing” and he took a deep breathe and let it out in a controlled manner as an example, “is staying down to earth. Besides I doubt Kisei would ask us to do handstands during this whole process. If doing a few pirouettes however will keep you relaxed though, I'm not against doing some twirls.” A light little joke to try and ease her over with the accompanied amicable snicker.

Wren was so very much unlike Sara. In moments like this, it was more obvious. Sara was part of the Vena Clan. Normally, her transformations were either one or the other, but MIBVI had left her in a permanently semi-transformed state. She might look similar to Wren, but there were notable differences. Wren had full control over her partial transformations and her time using them extensively made them almost part of her. Her reactions were more in depth than Sara. In a way, Wren was more werewolf than Sara. Wren could selectively and fully transform parts of herself; Sara was forever stuck in an odd percentage of being wolf-like.

Being as observant as he was, the little nuances between the two was something Kisei could appreciate. Wren had more dramatic, impactful reactions than Sara did to certain stimuli. This was one of them. He was sure, too, that if he went over and touched her ears, it would have a similar result. Not that he would; he already made his point. The thought was just present that the Cutem Clan partial transformations were more sensitive than the forced one Sara was locked into. The differences in behavior were a whole different story. Sara came from a werewolf biosphere and Wren was from the streets.

Made sense she would be quick to throw hands.

At the excitement, Kisei could only really smile. It was entertaining, sure, and the result was quite visceral, but it didn’t seem to make the impact he wanted. Wren had interpreted as if he pulled her tail because it was being nervously wagged. Which, while true, she de-escalated herself fairly quickly. A good skill to have, but Kisei was hoping for a moment longer of that anger to serve as a distraction. If anything, she as a werewolf was more reasonable than some of the other Fate Agents were in the beginning. Funny how that worked.

His laugh turned into a dry chuckle with the comment Zosar added. Pirouettes

”Zose, bud, I don’ know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about,” Kisei responded, putting on a completely serious voice and a stoic face for this performance.

”It is strict Hoshi tradition to do three pirouettes before training, then stick out your tongue,” he went on, somehow managing to maintain that straight face.

Then and only then did he look directly at Wren, the candlelit doing well to emphasize the variation in color between his eyes. His eyebrows raised, as did his left hand. He lifted up a single finger, then spun it in clockwise circles. He at least seemed to be quite serious in gesturing her to spin.

She took in Kisei’s glare with her own deadpan. Greyed, silver eyes peered back at him; one brow quirked up. Wren was idly brushing the still tingly tail that now sat at her lap, either trying to come up with one of her usual quips or weighing how badly Kisei wanted to see her make a fool of herself. After a beat, two, the pale werewolf seemed to have decided.

“See,” Wren pushed up from the floor, feign grunting and sighing her way up, brushing off non-existent dust from her knees. Unreasonably long, unnecessary, but pointful pauses “Yer’ saying that like I— as the respectable grown adult that I am— won’t get up and start spinnin’ for you and stick my tongue out like a clown. But like,” She crossed her arms, and without much more showmanship, Wren kicked her own heel and started twirling like an unwilling ballerina on the tip of her boot. One knee raised over the other, awfully graceful about it, her tail helicoptering and whizzing just inches over Zosar’s head on every 360°.

Her show with an audience of two, to their dismay, kept going for much, much longer than a mere three spins.

Wren was, as they say, lost in the sauce.

As she started winding down, either from the dizziness already taking ahold of her or just the feeling of her foot giving out, she threw her arms up and allowed the momentum to settle— tumbling over herself, rolling into an uncalled for one-hand freeze for absolutely no reason once it did.

If it wasn’t clear to Zosar from their spare time at the dojo, watching her train, Wren was very active as a child. Little else to do as a homeless werewolf than to make the vacant streets of Venice your own jungle gym. To her, physical activity had always been calming in this weird, contradicting way. Helped her get rid of her excess hyperness as a kid.

She glanced up at Kisei, grinning at how he looked upside down. There wasn’t even a sheen of sweat on her forehead after doing all of that ”I think I’m startin’ to like these Hoshi traditions, honestly.” A clawed index came up (down) to pull down (up) at one of her eyelids, and as instructed, Wren stuck her tongue out with the straightest face she could muster “They’re fun.” Her elbow bent, slowly setting her from a shoulder freeze, and all the way down to a ‘draw me like one of your French girls’ pose on the floor mats.
“What were we doing again? I think I blanked out…”

“You totally blanked out if you already forgot.” Came Zosar's reply after a snort of amusement. “I wasn't expecting the ending though, I'll give you points for that.” Transition had actually been smooth. Not that he was about to actually comment on the fetching ending pose.

If Kisei was the type to pat himself on the back, this would have been one of those moments. Whether Wren realized it or not, she had played right into his hands with that challenge. And, more importantly, it likely pulled her out of her own head, allowing her a way to deflate from the anxiety she seemed to have just a moment earlier.

His success wasn’t the only thing to enjoy, though. The werewolf was entertaining, to say the least. She was alive. Theatrical. Energetic. Her responses surges with livelihood that brightened an already candlelit dojo. She didn’t know it, but was in a way, brilliant.

With her spins completed, though, there was just one thing left before their training. Kisei raised his eyebrows, tilted his head, then offered Zosar an expectant look.

The meister didn't immediately meet Kisei's gaze until a few seconds after shifting his attention from Wren, to which upon realizing it was his turn, he blinked in mild amusement with a small smile, and then began chuckling. Laughing really at the switch as he wagged an extended index finger at his friend. “Okay, my turn it is then.” He said with amusement, backing up slightly as he did out of the awareness that he probably didn't want to pirouette so close to the others.

“Can't say I'll be able to pull off the smooth moves you did Wren but call your little touch at the end inspiring.” He commented before kicking off after taking a leg out, forward leg bent, and pushing with the last trailing into the very first spin, accompanied by an additional shove. The three spins stopped at five, not as many as Wren or waiting for momentum to bleed off like she had, instead his form flipped to his hands from the tip toe.

Taking that momentum led to a kick out, one hand stabilizing, legs out, the smooth transition of switching to the next hand with a hop followed with another rotating twist then followed with a third twist and another hand switch that bled into a chair like rotating spin which collapsed at a sudden drop to the ground at its peak as he whirled around on his back, curled up like a collapsed spinning ball for seconds, slowing, unfurling, coming to a full stop with a turtle freeze, except, he didn't stop facing sideways like you were supposed to, where you should be facing the audience, he stopped with his legs awkwardly pointing in their direction and himself facing away in the squat like handstand with legs and torso in the air. As awkward as the finale was, it was also intentional, improv at the end, an elbow freeze and a leg pose would have made it look perfect but the awkwardness of this turtle freeze and how he was facing the complete opposite direction also provided a good opportunity for a hopeful laugh. Again, in his own way, backing Kisei's plan.

Wren cleared her throat to cover up a cackle already bundling up in there, eyes steadily following Zosar as he slowly turned further than she’d expected him to stop at. The image of a turtle on its back, huddled up in its shell, or a chair with a swivel-top came to her head “Not bad at all, Z.” Finally, she snorted out a chuckle, placing a hand on Zosar’s back and swiping to spin him back around to face Kisei “Real smooth.” She punched in another jab, hiding that sneering grin on her face with a hand.

If getting her mind off things was their goal, the both of them had succeeded with flying colors.

“Hey, you forgetting something?” Wren spun his turtle shell back around, paused him in front of her. After two seconds of staring, she simply “Blehblehblehbl—” stuck her tongue out at him repeatedly, one too many times, like a toddler trying to make fun of another in the only way toddlers could “Look at this guy just blatantly disrespecting strictly mandated Hoshi traditions…”
The goofy grin was hard to suppress as he righted himself.

She sighed, feigning a look of concern as she spun him back to Kisei again.

The plan was for this to be a menial distraction. Humorous at best, awkward at worst. While it did seem to accomplish that, it also sparked a thought inside Kisei. Or, perhaps a reminder. Autonomous Weapons were one of the smallest minority of agents in the DWMA, rivaled most closely by Bloodsuckers. Not only were they rare, they walked two paths normally inherently separate: that of a Meister and that of a Demon Weapon.

There was an argument to be made that few understood the gap between the two as well as Autonomous Weapons. Meisters were generally driven, capable, and coordinated. Not to say that Demons couldn’t be, but that it benefited them far less. The best Demon Weapons were warriors of the mind. What Kisei saw here was a unique situation where the unaided Demon Weapon was far more coordinated and dexterous than their partner.

It wasn’t a common sight. Even if Zosar meant to fall a bit short, Kisei was pretty sure Wren would’ve upstaged him. This could be in part due to her werewolf heritage, but the mentor didn’t think so. No, instead, he was just pretty sure Wren naturally had greater dexterity than Zosar–training be damned. In fact, it would make the most sense in an unprompted setting like this as it was doubtful either of them had experience or training in… dance? Breaking dancing? Whatever this was.

Either way, that was the brief distraction it caused for Kisei.

”Alright, alright, ritual is completed, let’s get back on track,” Kisei told them, only after having allowed Zosar to maintain his silly pose for a few extra, awkward, extended moments.

”Take a sitting position you find comfortable–you’ll be in a while,” he instructed. By this time, all of the candles were lit and their effect was about as potent as it would ever be. It wasn’t much. It was noticeable, sure, but it truly was just a dulling of the edge. Not that anyone present was near or at risk of a breakout, but if they were, these candles would have been one step above pointless.

”My understanding is that both of you have had some level of Calm Mind training in the past. I do not intend on evaluating it or your progress. There’s a pretty simple reason for that, too: the training remains the same until you can reliably activate your Calm Seal,” he explained, ”which leads me to what you’ll actually be doing. You will enter your own souls. This in and of itself is a skill. At our ages, this is something you normally get within an hour or two of attempts, from then on barring some major change, it’s pretty easy.”

”What you find inside your soul is called your Soul Room. When you resonate, a portion of this is shared with your partner. However, that is only a portion. Inside your own soul, you will find every nook and cranny of your very being. It is a world painted by your persona and psyche. It is also a maze; a labyrinth that houses your greatest aspirations and deepest fears. If you do not know yourself or if you refuse to accept who you are, you not only reject some of your power, you could get lost in your own soul. That is why these early stages are often supervised. You will spend hours inside your soul and if something leads you astray, it could be quite dangerous without someone to throw you a lifeline,” he continued, reviewing over the information as if he actually was one of the professors at the academy. Of course, he was not.

”Your goal is twofold. First, you must explore your Soul enough to understand where the very core of it is. From the center, you can exert the most control. Eventually, you’ll be able to enter your soul and immediately be at its core. Secondly, you do have some element of control over your Soul Room. You can will it to change, though said changes are slow to form and only temporary. Your goal is to exert your willpower over your Soul Room until it has become a black room with only the candlelight glowing. In doing this, you will be separating your mind and soul via sheer willpower. That is the true act of creating a Calm Seal. This will weaken you spiritually, but it will also bar the Madness inherent in your soul from affecting your mind or body. Madness is a vicious cycle. Consider pain. Pain causes anxiety and anxiety makes us more sensitive to pain, thus increasing our pain. Madness does the same thing to your mind and body. Thus, breaking that cycle provides dividends in your resistance to Madness and your recovery from it,” he told them, still going on about the training more so in the format of a lecture.

Wren turned an ear to Kisei, refusing to take a seating position like he’d suggested and instead just laying flat on the ground. Fingers joined behind the back of her head, looking at the ceiling, one knee up with her other leg outstretched. The more she listened to him explaining it, the more she realized how little of a hard-science it was. Same with astrology, there wasn’t a clear-cut way to explain things correctly when it came down to spirituality, to her understanding. There wasn’t a formula to follow.

The one thing that had her worried, just grimacing at the thought, “Just a portion?” was how utterly lost she felt when thinking back to those endless halls in her soul space. How the hell was she supposed to find the center of that? How was she supposed to know how to change her soul room at will?

The literal explanation, as it fell to her ears, was something akin to: “Just look around, get a feel for it.”

Wren sighed, shutting her eyes. There wasn’t a point in thinking about it when she wasn’t even there to begin with.

“So, Kisei,” Her head drifted to a shoulder, one ear bending and the other standing at attention “In your soul room, has there ever been…” ‘Something in there with you’, was the rest of that sentence. Words drooled out of her mouth, falling muted to the floor. She gave up on them, suddenly feeling the weight of the collar around her neck. Wren had told Zosar the half of it, not even certain still that she should’ve opened her mouth to tell him that in the first place.

There was no way in hell she would tell Kisei.

“Nah, nevermind. That’s a dumb question…” Wren fanned a dismissive hand in Kisei’s general direction, shifting back into a less spine-rending position on the floor mats.

Her Meister made no comment. If she was going to talk about this it would be on her own terms unless it became crucial for him to say something.

He followed suit, sitting not traditionally cross-legged but with one leg up propping an arm opposite, outstretching the other, not entirely dissimilar to Wren’s lackadaisical position. Wren lay there without moving, her serene expression unflinching, her breathing even. At a first glance, Wren looked like she had fallen asleep mid-meditation. And in a way, maybe she was asleep. Consciously, at least, she wasn’t giving any signs of being there in the room with them. She’d blocked out the noise, focused solely on the darkness of her closed eyelids.

After a while of non-response from her, Wren’s eyebrows suddenly rose, a long, draw of breath leaving her mouth, one wolf ear flicking like a fly had landed on it. Knee-jerk, out of reflex, her entire body was covered in that trademark flash of light— soon after,

CLANK!
What sat in Wren’s place was a gigantic chainblade. Engine resting, teeth slowly whirring, weighing down its shape into the floor mats.

When she opened her eyes, she was splayed on black and white tiles, half of her face squished into harsh ceramic. She groaned, mumbled out groggy curses under her breath as she rose to her feet.
A pitch-black dress, frills flowing with the wind, shiny pearls and gold ornaments hung over her shoulders. An old gramophone breathed out a song far off in the distance, the sound crackling, as if it were being spat out by an ancient relic. Wren pinched the bridge of her nose, shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach already ‘Back in wonderland, I guess…’
Things were slightly different for her Meister in comparison.

It was only after he had witnessed that subtle jerk and heard the hiss of her breathe that he let himself shift his attention away from her and on to himself. The diversion in her attempt to bring up the topic about her Madness Entity was the only reason he had kept an eye on her. It wasn't like he expected her to relapse but with her Madness it was hard to tell what exactly to expect in the first place.

He let out a long exhale from his nose. Expelling these thoughts from his mind. Wren's collar was an effective failsafe, as much as he disliked to use it. He didn't need to let body swapping ideas enter his mind about her diving into her Soul Space.

In all his years of Soul Studies in and out of DWMA, he'd never heard of such a possibility...it was ludicrous.

So the thought was pushed out, and another one stepped into place almost a minute later just as he was feeling the muscles in his shoulders relax and the darkness behind his eyes seep in, unbidden, Kenny flashed to mind.

Kenny and how much time he might spend doing this. That thought alone worked past ones in a younger iteration. All fruitless unnecessary things that bled into his mind, just like a part of him had suspected it might.

There were times you could get the mind to rest and there were times it wouldn't and it seemed as if whenever he wanted it to, things wouldn't entirely click smoothly into place. The scolding thought that hit like a hammer was how Kenny might have already found his own rhythm by now while he toiled away in the rushing stream of fruitless thoughts.

Frustration would have followed naturally if he were still younger, but instead of getting frustrated, all Zosar did, visibly, was rest his forehead on his arm and let out another loud exhale from his nose.

Hiroshi had once told him to visualize something that could help him ebb the flow of his thoughts- so he defaulted on that.

Waves. The crest and fall. The push and pull. In Jamaica, he had lived on a somewhat slightly more remote part of a beach side town, where the tide pushed and pulled the waves on Beach shore over the distance. Sparkling during full moons or particularly sunny days. He could see those waves clearly. The sparkling blue hue reflecting the clear skies.

In and out, his breathing evened. Could practically hear the crashing waves. Could practically see the clear blue skies.

And when he exhaled, there was a shift that he felt in the atmosphere, subtle, hard to detect, not immediate. The droplets of water that touched him as the sound of a wave passed, made him open his eyes--

--the sea expanded endlessly. Crashed on distant jagged rocks jutting out ahead, and when he turned to look at what was behind him- mismatched eyes knew instantly- as they surveyed gravestones with polished plaques of the name of a location or specific scrawling of a date- he knew he wasn't at the center.

Wasn't even close.

It was truly an interesting experience to witness people enter their soul room, especially for the first time. In a way, it was unfortunate that the skill eventually became so second-nature that it no longer required the journey. One could learn a lot about themselves from how they navigated their Soul Room, what manifested there, and what their personal labyrinths were. Some prisoners of their own minds, some even less fortunate were prisoners in their own bodies, but all were prisoners of their souls.

Kisei could see, though not with perfect clarity, just what type of prisons each had made for themselves.

Zosar, his dear friend, had some level of control. Kisei was sure that was a skill that his former mentor had taught him. This left a sour taste in the mouth of the true Hoshi. The Hoshino mentor, though skilled, had likely taught Zosar a mere facsimile of what true Calm Mind training should be. There was a significant chance Zosar would have to unlearn all he had to truly begin his journey.
As it stood now, Kisei could see that Zosar was contorting his soul, but still stuck on the outskirts. It was as the Meister feared; he was far from the center. That made sense, though. Zosar didn’t have a strong sense of self. He thought he did, but he truly didn’t. He suffered from a shifting self-image and having himself uprooted from his old life. Within the same year, Zosar had considered fleeing the DWMA and decided to stay when given the opportunity to peacefully leave. There was much uncertainty in the Meister, though he had made his choices.

What he didn’t know is that using a crutch such as visualization gave that image power. True Calm Mind training was a feat of pure willpower. Cheap shortcuts like imagining the ebb and flow of waves only meant he would be a victim to the storm once it came. And, it would come. The sky above the jagged rocks and gravestones darkened. The air became light, its humidity fleeing as the dark clouds carrying the lightning and thunder rolled in.

Kisei might correct him later regarding letting what was in his soul come naturally at first, but for now, he would have to learn his lesson on his own and endure what was to come. Only if there was a real risk of him losing himself would Kisei intervene.

Meanwhile, Wren was infinitely more complex. She started out much deeper into her soul. It seemed the werewolf did in fact have such a strong sense of self that she didn’t have to do nearly the same amount of searching. She asked questions and Kisei actually had answers, but they would obviously be waiting.

No, now he had to watch closely. Wren had next to no defense within her own mind and soul against her Madness. This would be her first time encountering it. And, Kisei could feel it. He could see it. It was like a shark circling its prey or a cat teasing before it pounced. Within the corridors of her soul in whatever form it took was the shadow lurking around that was her Madness.


It was her hunger. It was voracious. It was curious. It was dangerous.

It was the real danger here. Wren had Calm Mind training that helped her physically curb her Madness, within the realm of her mind, she had but one defense: her own willpower. In that regard, her Madness was the most unrestrained it had ever been, but it was equally vulnerable to her. If she could overpower it even just this once, it would set the tone for all her future training. It would mean she could train in relative peace, which would expedite the process from beginning to end.

How or when it would pounce, what form it would take, it would fight or manipulate her - those all questions that would only be answered in time. Some Madness tried to take over by force. Others, coercion and deceit. What mattered most here is that Kisei was here to intervene for her, too, if the need arose. He would not allow her to fall prey to the manifestation of her own hunger, but hopefully, she wouldn’t need a big, strong Hoshi man to come to her rescue.

There was at least a gift he could provide them both. Given just how far away they were from manifesting a seal, disturbing their inner minds had little downside. It didn’t risk setting them back, spiritual damage, or his own safety. In short, it meant that providing internal advice now would likely be one of the only times he could - and the only way he could be helpful in the moment.
All it took was a touch.

Kisei was skilled, but not so skilled that he could just manifest himself inside of their Soul Spaces. With a partner, sure; in fact, he might have been able to with Zosar if he tried. Someone as skilled as Reiko Tanaka could have likely slipped in with little effort. What he could do was give them his voice. Gentle words to give them some guidance as to what they were encountering.
’Zose, you may be trying too hard. Navigating your soul is slow and arduous… if you try to leap too quickly, you may end up even further than where you began. You need to understand yourself to understand your soul–and only then can you hope to navigate it.


So, Zose, ask yourself and answer yourself. No one else. Who are you now? Who have you been? What did it take to get here? What did you lose along the way? Who or what do you want to become? These answers will become the landmarks you use on your journey to your center.’

Then over to Wren, as he could only perform these one-at-a-time.

’You asked a question, Wren. I have had many partners and even Lord Kidd has been in my Soul Room. The soul is a mysterious place where many impossible things may be possible… my current soul is an inky blackness, only lit by candles. You stand in cool water and look at the abyss in every direction. Yet, it is not empty. There are stones for mourning and remembrance. For example, one has the name of my late partner. It is engraved and illuminated at all times. In every iteration of my soul, no matter how much I change it, those stones remain. Some things are simply so important to us that we cannot get rid of ourselves of them…

…whatever is inside your soul, it is part of you. Whatever you find, do not reject it. Fear and shame only slow you down from seeing the truth about yourself. If you do not like what you see, seek to control it, and maybe over time, change it. But, accept it. And, remember, sometimes you do more good outside of the room than inside. If you ever need to share how you feel or what you see, then do so. A Calm Seal is something you can only master alone, but searching your soul? You have friends to help you.’

It was sound advice, both for him and Wren.

Who was he now? Answering who he was, meant addressing who he had been. Intricacies to explore. The waves crashed at this thought, thunder rumbled, the sky saw white streaks vanished and dark clouds rapidly moved in as wind picked up.

Within his own Soul Room, Zosar stood on a small platform of stone in the middle of nowhere. As far as he could see he was surrounded by rock formations that jutted out of the ever shifting ocean, like teeth, they were everywhere his eyes looked across the ocean. The waters around his elevated platform were rapid but they only touched the lip of where he stood when they crashed. He could dive down and swim but at the same time he also had the formations to worry about beyond staying afloat. In essence, it mirrored the nature of his Soul type perfectly. The tides were strong, too powerful to swim in, he could try but if it swept him away, the formations ensured he would get hurt; if this were real, he'd be stranded.

This was where awareness brought the changes in his Space. He couldn't leap across the distance to one formation, not with how waves rose up to block formations at times, as if ready to catch him and knock him into the waters below. So he had to reflect. No shortcuts here would get him to the center.

It was just like when he first started, minus all the inexperience.

At core, there was no excuse here and he knew it when he asked himself. No one forced him into the decisions he made. To go back on the night of the escape or stay here on the day he was being offered a peaceful pass, he knew what he had done. When it came to that night, he had practically foreseen all his present troubles as he had been running back, and only saw them more clearly as he had time went forward.

However, he couldn't deny the deep frustration he felt. On cue, his soul responded with the crack of lightning, the air rumbled, waters darkened as dark clouds covered the sky above him.

Sometimes it felt it was too easy with how rumors spread in DWMA. Back then, at his peak, he wouldn't have had the influence to stop what happened then even if he had been under watch and hadn't been under lockdown. Maybe he could have lessened the damage to himself but at the end, with the rumors he knew were out there, he couldn't have stopped the discussions about how he had been deceiving DWMA and made shady dealings for his own benefit against the organization, looping in his friends, clearly painting him a traitor and a conman.

Erica, one of the very few EAT agents he had known in his better days that had only recently reconnected with him before the trip to Hawaii, had been keeping him updated every now and then when they did meet up. The topics regarding him that were trending like social media, were nothing good. If knowing was anything, it provided insight into the attention he had recently been receiving that he hadn't spoken of to anyone. There was something about people hearing he had been cleared to go to FATE instead of being sent away to some prison or correctional facility that just rubbed some people the wrong way. And considering the biggest rumor tended to go back to his final partner in the survey he had almost hit for getting on his case with the team, he couldn't say he didn't get why. It was like he had gotten off with less punishment than he deserved, especially if you believed the more hyperbolic rumors surrounding his ‘deals’ and motives that painted the image of who he really was.

The frustration underlying these thoughts however wasn't something he could hide in his Soul Space, that irritation sent a massive wave up that struck him down, almost pulling him off the platform he stood on as it dropped back into the waters. He had to force himself not to let the thoughts carry him away. Grabbing hold of a jutting stone as his support, Zosar pulled himself back up from a high drop and made it to his hands and knees on solid ground.

If he was going to make any step forward, he needed to confront what his therapist had advised him many times he was hiding inside. He refused to be stuck in one place while Wren and everyone else moved forward. The idea that he could continue to be problem to his own partner created the next wave that tried to shake him off and throw him into the deep, but he was unphased, by spite alone.

In the real world, Zosar let out a calming exhale from his nose.

In his soul room he refocused as he stood up.

There was nothing he could do about those problems except deal with it. The rumors would make their rounds and there was nothing he could do to stifle that now or change it. The losses he had experienced from his capture came from the revelation Jacob Straugg wasn't who he truly was, he knew that. Zosar Raith was different from Jacob Straugg but not separate. Jacob Straugg had been outed as a persona, but in truth Jacob Straugg was just a piece of him. The things he had done as Jacob, the background created for him as Jacob, had taken pieces of his actual life and made it credible enough to avoid being easily detected by those with Lie detection abilities. Eva had been proof of that. He had tested that theory using her, and found himself caring about her regardless. The friends he had made as Jacob hadn't been aligned with a gang or in cahoots with money laundering groups or extortion teams, or syndicates or corrupt officers. The people he met at DWMA had generally been just people, decent ones most of the time at least.

These people, those friends, had come to check on him, were concerned when the IA showed their hand, wanted to help despite him turning them away for what he knew would affect them too.

DWMA had been the first job he had taken, where he hadn't had to constantly keep in mind that the people he was interacting with were criminals or felons, that would kill him in an instant if they found an excuse. That one fact, was what made every job he had ever done prior to EAT and even during his time as a EAT agent working for the Enlighteners on the side, so different.

Zosar Raith wasn’t someone that saw himself a hero, nor did he see himself having a hero complex as Kisei had once put it coldly, the thought causing the sky to rumble in his minor irritation at the memory.

To him, the Enlighteners weren't even superheroes, maybe as a kid- but working in the field had shattered that illusion the day he and a team were tasked to hunt a Corrupted Soul. His father, Ramirez had shattered that illusion intentionally. Their work was necessary work, not some grandiose divine duty. Just as Police officers were necessary in civilized zones. Being exposed to the work of the Enlighteners, being part of EAT, all of this had shown him many times that too many people died or suffered in the world, and didn't deserve it, and they weren't superheroes for doing their job. Too many were taken advantage of, Kisei and Wren were examples of this in their own ways, so the idea he would be playing the same game for his own benefit- sacrificing people who didn't deserve such a fate, had disgusted him enough to risk his life to fix what he saw as a mistake.

The Enlighteners worked contracts, and sometimes along the way they recruited new blood that showed merit. Very few went astray, he had known some that did. That knowledge was the real reason why he didn't go right back, along with what Eustice had revealed to him while underground the city in their cells about the reaction to his situation back home, and how it had split in opinion among their peers.

In his eyes he had a choice, where if he fled and let these ‘friends of Jacob' die for a mission that had gotten out of control, he would have less trouble doing the same in future missions. According to Eustice, some eyes looked at what he did as a huge risk to not only his team but a foolish gamble he had taken that may have come with no good results, essentially a willing deserter. That was why Eustice came for him, to prove it false. That the intent wasn't desertion or some gamble he was playing with DWMA. It wasn't that simple though. After all, if he could let people he cared about even a little die when he could have helped then he could keep doing that for the sake of any job if it fits his needs.

Deep down, he knew why he felt that way. There was always this unspoken rule he knew always existed: If I want, I'll get, one way or another.

He’d felt that way in love, in his personal goals, on missions when executing Corrupted, even with the Fae related mission he had tried creating a bridge for his own future uses, and in EAT he had used the social charm to profit as much as possible beyond it being just for the job where he could.

Picking Anita, Harvar D. Eclair’s granddaughter, a friend and the rest of her team, had been where real character was tested though. The choice at heart had been good, but he couldn't deny the notion it wasn't just him doing it for pure good reasons. He knew going back was bad, meant his capture, severing ties possibly but his principles couldn't deny he needed to correct what could happen before it was too late. The motivation behind the action was good but it wasn't alone when he analyzed the choice, just as his choice to stay in DWMA was more complex than just having faith in Kisei or Kidd or hoping things would just work out when he went back, there were logical points that made his pick the better one, that also stemmed from a understanding that staying would do him more good in the long term than going back and repeating the cycle till he broke it by turning rotten.

Joining FATE was his way to get himself out of the mess he had placed himself in, saving Anita’s team had been a way of showing who Zosar Raith really was also. Kenny had shown what a Volatile Soul could achieve, maybe not exactly the same, but he wanted to reach that level. He wanted to make Wren, his gem, shine like she truly could. He wanted to get that level of control, that power, but not just for his own goals. So he needed to claw himself out of the pit he fell in, and prove that he was more than just the rumors or deceit or trickery.

And with that thought, steps of stone drew his eyes towards the distant horizon, and the waves that lashed around them, the yelling wind, the rumbling skies, the battering tides, roaring thunder, soothed in a clear path. The darkness of the clouds had not vanished, the waves in the distance still churned, but now, as Zosar looked at the stepping stones- he felt like he could progress without the same trouble he had started with.

When he moved to the next one, no wave rose suddenly to strike him down. He felt a sense of control now in the waters he hadn't had earlier.

He felt good.

Stones for mourning, stones for remembrance.

Kisei’s words, the sound, calm reassurance laced behind them went through one ear and straight out the other. Her brain barely chewed on them, processed the bare intention of them— spun them into something that made her skin crawl, stomach churn.

‘You’re not alone.’

She knew she wasn’t. She had Zosar now. Elly, Kisei. Even Maria; she’d started to take a shine to her in the short time they were together. Knowing that only made her more paranoid. Like they could peer into the grandeur of those ever unfolding, art-deco dining halls from above, with giant, judging eyes. Made her feel small. Like the room were some exaggeratedly big doll-house, like they could pop the roof and lean in to take a closer look. See her halls of shame, her hunger, splayed out ugly for them to gawk at in disgust.

See her, a little pathetic porcelain doll wrapped by the limbs on puppet strings.

Same as she’d done for Zosar back then, how she’d kept the doors to her soul room barred and welded shut, Wren wouldn’t allow a soul to lay a step in. She hadn’t seen past the dining halls, but she knew whatever was beyond was ugly. Hungry. Ravenous. Utterly shameful.

Kisei’s message took another turn in her head,

‘You either do this alone or we’re barging in.’

The sound of torn fabric ripping filled the echoing halls as she went to claw at her dress, make it more breathable, loosen a couple notches off the black corset squeezing her lungs together. Then she was shuffling her feet in place, rolling her neck, squaring her jaw with a flash of cold focus in her eye. Putting on a face, making it brave and fearless. Like an action movie hero.

She felt a tearing gash stitched across her heart, loosening with every beat, as if it were about to snap loose in useless forfeit if she didn’t control her heartbeat, if she didn’t induratize that blood pump in her chest. In the real world, Kisei could only feel the chainblade sputtering for a short moment, before the engine settled back on a low tremble.

Wren would hold the gates, no one would come through.

A shrill, throaty cackle rumbled across the halls, bouncing its way to her, and that bone-chilling wind that passed by, scraping against her neck, reminded her once again. She wasn’t alone. The gale rode up a grand set of stairs. Polished mahogany rails, a slick red carpet with gold frills thrown over the steps, leading up to a milk-white double door. Half-opened already; a black, shadowy limb peered out from inside. Taunting, gesturing her to come, to follow further down the rabbit hole, step down to wonderland.

She watched it from the corner of her eye, frowning, trying to keep that brave face on. It slipped in, closed the door behind it.

Wren followed.

Behind the door was remembrance, mourning. The ceiling was black like a firmament deprived of its dots, the stars only replaced by dim, rippling tessellations drawn out and back in, thin lines forming a revolving kaleidoscope. Meathooks hung by chains dangling on the ceiling, rusted through, each of them holding a mannequin’s arm. Each limb mangled with several bite marks, half-chewed.

The only light dawning on the room came from one of those old movie boxes from when she was a child, a T.V about as large as her, static on the screen humming a commercial tune she recognized, but couldn’t remember. The light washed on an old rug under a wooden table filled with books, titles scratched from the covers. A plush sofa with a plastic remote running on no batteries, a jacket lazily thrown over the armrest.

And another porcelain statue, hiding shameful under the table. A doll, a wolf-eared girl, laid on the rug with her legs tucked to her chest, cracked and fickle like a fragile, holy thing. Not to be disturbed, lest it shattered. It was a hazy recreation of her uncle Luca’s living room, back in the old apartment. Twisted to humiliate and torment her.

It felt lonely, asphyxiating, all-consuming. It felt…her. Back in the European branch, after her first madness outbreak, hiding in the darkness of her room until someone came to check on her. Like a cicada digging itself deep underground. Tired of who she was, or who she’d become, how people saw her. Waiting, maybe, for the right season to come, when she could dig herself out, crawl outside of her own shameful skin and sing.

Wishful thinking, she knew. Never moved one bit toward that season, Wren just daydreamed about it. Kept hiding. She drew in a breath, walked over and laid down on the floor with her marbled self, eye to eye, breathing hollowly. Accepting this shame, these humiliating memories as hers. Serein, repose. She closed her eyes.

Only winking them open once she heard that laughter behind her, muffled behind a plastic mask. She didn’t turn to look, didn’t flinch like she hoped she would at the mere sight of him, only rising up to sit criss-cross with her back against the sofa. Beelzebub sat there, slumped, fidgeting with the jingle bells of the floppy liliripes of his hat. Taller and lankier than how he was in the dining halls. His mask chiseled and gauntly with an inverted half-moon in place of the usual grin. Wore the mask of tragedy.

He didn’t sound as cheerful as before either, the fake accent he put on wasn't even there anymore.

“This is not the center. You are cold. Cooold—cold-cold-cold-cold—dead cold…not even close…”

“Hm.” — Wren only hummed. There was a beat of drawn-out silence, both of them wallowing in the discomfort of it. Unrequited. Half-hearted. Drawn back.
“How lonesome it is, now. Without him.”

Her eyes wandered around the room, her nose picked up on how it smelled of him, of her uncle. And she could admit Beelzebub was right.

She followed him for a reason. Luca meant safety, meant refuge. Two things long denied to her since she was left to wander the streets. Two things she roamed and looked aimlessly for when she was a child.

She still searched for those two things, with touch starved hands, for him. Like they’d robbed that feeling of belonging right out of her hands, she still roamed the streets as if she were hopping to stumble into the fire escape of his apartment again, find him. She searched him, in the changing of seasons, intermittent, the impermanence of death city. In the people she met, amiable smiles and all the interactions that made her feel the wrong type of warmth— in Zosar, in this new team. In the security of the program, her shelter, and the people that worked tirelessly to get her back on track.

Saw him, searched him, in the bottomless, voracious pit in her stomach. The reassurance that the hunger would keep her moving forward to the next thing she could sink her fangs into, as it’d done countless times before when she was a child. She’d drop straight into the jester’s arms if she didn’t know any better — “Do you remember? Those fancy people…up in their fancy outdoor restaurants, by the grand canal. With the pretty view to the passing boats…”

“Food at the snap of their fingers. Waiters rushing in with their hands full…while you sat there gorging on the crumbs they’d spare you.”

“Oh, they looked like proper kings and queens in comparison…royalty. You…you looked…”

“Alone?”

Silence, again. Familiar, filled out with a sequined chuckle from her court jester, an act long exhausted. As if she were yielding her misery into her little devil’s palms, for him to gawk at. As if she were madly, grimly aching for the release that came with the act. He was a part of her as well, the part of her that wanted the best version of herself realized, in all the wrong ways possible.
“I will keep you well fed…I will always keep you well fed…my liege.”

“Even if I have to drag your unwilling, listless body down the right path. We will never go hungry again. Never alone.”

He didn’t say anything else. His head hung, a soft wheeze of breath, almost a death rattle, exiting the hollow grin carved in his white mask as he raised his hand. Stretching out a wiry shadow of a finger to point towards an opening door. Beyond it was only darkness, enlivened only momentarily by a red flash of sparks every so often.

The center?

Not quite, but close. A surprise to most at first was that the center of most souls was relatively barren. The center of a soul was a representation of very more core facets of an individual. At their core, most people were pretty simple. It was that very concept that caused Zosar to struggle. While Wren was nearly at the finish line, his journey had just barely started.

Zosar was a man that over-complicated himself. He had a story for every occasion, his identity was tied to multiple groups and people, he had plenty of individuals over time that he thought friends or allies… and perhaps worst of all, or more accurately, his most difficult trait to overcome: his inflated sense of self worth.

At the end of the day, in all of his accumulated experience before entering the F.A.T.E. Program, Zosar was mostly a child and barely a man. His antics may have been higher stakes than the average high schooler, but the nature of them and his judgemental peers was hardly any different. A bunch of teenagers judging teenagers, in truth, wasn’t that special. One of them being a self-righteous dickhead wasn’t exactly uncommon, either.

Realizations he would have to come to later. For now, it only made his current task more difficult. Had he learned how to center himself at a younger age, he wouldn’t have this struggle. This was a task most of his current peers could already perform: Nadia, Gauss, Elly, even Adrian.

Some hours passed. Calm Minding training was a slow and arduous task. It was as much self-discovery as it was practice. It was also exhausting. Soul Searching as they did was mentally and spiritually draining and until one built up a tolerance to it, a few hours was generally the longest they could go at it. Reiko had instilled this very spiritual endurance into Adrian—once she convinced him to sit still. Kisei would have to do the same to these two.

Kisei walked around the two of them, putting out each candle one by one, already feeling their waning spiritual fortitude. It was time they pulled themselves out. Luckily, a simple task, but one he would need to teach them nonetheless. ”We are done for today,” he announced verbally, a feat that without the candles and after their exhaustion would now echo into their minds. He was intentionally breaking their concentration. ”Envision yourself sitting, as you are now, then spike your wavelength. After a few times, your body will do it, too, and that will bring you back,” he told them, providing them with the basic instructions. It was a simple task, at least functionally; a little mental imagery and an intentional shift in focus from their souls to their body.

It would likely take them a few tries. There was always a little delay between the mind and body. Kisei used this time to take a seat in the back of the room, on an elevated wooden platform that rose only a few inches above the training area the three had been using with the candles. There was something he saw that troubled him; something he couldn’t, in good conscience, allow to go without addressing. Given that they were coming to, finally, now was as good as time as any to do exactly that.

”You did fairly well for your first session, but it will take time. If you find the progress miserably slow, you should. Calm Mind training isn’t normally even considered until an agent is twenty-five or older. Centering your soul and separating your mind and body are far easier when you're older, wiser, and have a stronger sense of self. The only people naturally good at it are fanatics with a few screws loose,” Kisei explained, giving them a prelude as they exited the daydream that was Soul Searching. His voice did admittedly sound somewhat bored, which made sense. He had basically just been watching them for hours, scrolling on his phone from time to time.

”I don’t think you’re ready to do sessions alone yet, so I’ll see about setting up the next,” he told them, transitioning into a tone with a little more urgency. ”I’d normally suggest we go get a bite to eat, but I’ll need to see Wren for a moment. We’ll have a little weapon-to-weapon chat,” he said, ”meaning Zose, you can wait outside or go ahead of us, but privacy is important.”

He had finally reached the last platform when it was time to stop. To him, there had been some progress, at the same time though, he felt there was still more that needed to be done that he had missed. Coming to terms with the motivation of his choice and why he had felt it the right one was only a piece of the whole, there was still more he felt he had to unpack here. The last look he took to the horizon of the neverending stretch he could see a silhouette in the distance. Something so tiny, an island wrapped in shadows, that blended in so well with the darker atmosphere of the cumulonimbus clouds and was only illuminated by flashes of lightning from above that it was near impossible to see without really focusing his eyes.

If that was his center, and he was still this far away, then it was just a sign that he still had a lot more to do, and a lot more to figure out about himself.

If anything, the knowledge he was still so far away from where he needed to be wasn't surprising. All it did was tell him he really didn't have it all as figured out as he thought he had prior to FATE. Yet again, he was being humbled, and Zosar wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that.

Coming out of the state as instructed, Zosar found himself lifting his head up slowly. His position had shifted to where he had been sitting more straight but his head had been slightly down. Rolling his head released some pops, the news Kisei delivered at least was good. He wasn't in down spirits by the progress, if anything he was just glad he hadn't fucked up and screwed himself over. Given his past with this form of training he had honestly privately dreaded screwing up momentously. As he rose, it really just left him thoughtful as he offered Wren a hand to pull her up to a sitting position at least unless she batted away the offer.

Hearing that there was about to be a private chat though had him naturally curious. He didn't ask any questions, mainly because it was pretty clear this wasn't something he needed to pry into- but still his curiosity was piqued. “I'll wait for you guys outside then. Holler when you come out I might walk around to get a view of the area again” He decided.

Offering Kisei a fist bump, then patting Wren on the shoulder affectionately as he passed with an affectionate smile, he was out of the room in no time. As he shut the door though, back turned, the former spy couldn't help but wonder if it was something related to Wren that Kisei was going to talk about and her Madness, or if it was something more private that needed him to be out of the way regarding him. Deciding not to dwell on it, Zosar moved away from the door to avoid being tempted to follow old habits of eavesdropping.

Instead he merely looked around the Hoshi Embassy, taking in the sights and recounting what Kisei had told him before about the architecture to pass the time.
Wren was left wandering a pitch-black maze, guided by feel alone, and the flashing glint red lightning streaks varnishing the dark every once in a while, like a camera flash. It was mind-numbing minutes of her running a hand across the first wall she bumped into, following it along until she rounded a corner and lost it completely. Then she’d walk aimlessly, clawing at the next wall. Rinse and repeat. Looking, hoping for that distinct feeling of a doorknob brushing against her hands. The door she was hoping would lead her to the center.
It was calming in a way, draining in another.

She would’ve been there for even longer had it not been for Kisei’s voice ringing out in her mind.

Coming back to herself in the real world, the chainsaw on the floor mats flashed white, regained some weight, and grew a pair of legs and arms. She rose up from where she lay like a vampire coming out of the crypt, grumbling and flinching at the light washing on her eyes. She rubbed her eyes, as if those grand dining halls had been burnt to a searing spot in her brain, an indelible snapshot in her eyes. It was a trip, to say the least “Doing all that soul searching shit and shootin’ up hard drugs would be a swell experience, I think.” She was joking, of course. She would never put a needle to her vein. What was she, an animal or something? No, that was an American thing. They only had spice and white powder back in her fancy Italy.
There was little to no outward reaction to Kisei pulling her aside to talk, barely a raised brow, only an estranged look and a snapped hum trembling in her throat. There was a moment of pause, briefly glancing down coldly at the floor mats, wondering just what exactly he’d seen or felt from her while she was in her soul space. It was passing, the expression immediately lightened on her face as she shrugged, pulled herself up, patted Zosar’s back as he left the room.

She raised her hands— entwined them— and took a long big stretch, like a ferret twisting itself.

She really was just acting as if she’d been woken up from a power nap “Well, go ahead,” Her arms folded, growing half-a-head taller from her human form. Two wolf ears popped out from beneath her silver mane, flicking and waving at the Hoshi “I’m all ears.”

“I didn’t do so bad that I have to get pulled aside for a lecture, did I, coach? On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad’re we talking?”

Unserious as ever.

The Hoshi offered a fist bump as a retort, and nodded Zosar along following his departure. Not quite the standard of his clan or normal mentorship, but not much was standard about this program. Not when he also had to watch the Soul Signature of his friend to make sure he was, in fact, not listening in too close. Not that he didn’t trust him, but he… actually did not trust him not to eavesdrop. Not entirely, at least.

Reason being, he wouldn’t trust his own self not to eavesdrop if he thought he could. It wasn’t an insult; it was a reality.

Wren became the immediate focus of the moment. She was amiable, able to laugh through most things, and deceptively smart. Dangerously perceptive at times. She was already near the center of her soul, likely because she was not so far separated from herself as Zosar. That was in part the problem.

”No, miss Moretti, you’re doing quite well, all things considered,” Kisei responded dryly, doing his best to be the serious mentor he needed to be in the moment. He had a lot of slips at times. A lot of unprofessional qualities. A short temper, petty attitude, flirtatious at times, and often just plain too familiar with his peers to truly be seen as a mentor. He was well-aware of his shortcomings, so when it came to overcoming them, he did so try to put his best foot forward.

He inhaled swiftly, then exhaled. The time was here.

”I don’t see a benefit in beating around the bush,” he told her, ”there’s something in there with you. Not your normal Madness.”

His dual-color eyes fixated on her. An incredibly rare trait he shared with Zosar, however, the Hoshi manifested it quite a bit differently. One dark eye, one bright eye. The brown iris of his Asian heritage almost looked normal. In that way, his one colorful eye was the only oddity.

”Madness follows some rules—normally. It is best compared to a force of nature. Natural forces are pretty easy to predict. Your Madness didn’t behave in predictable ways. It didn’t feel natural. So, unless you’re a clown, that can only mean you’re not truly alone in that soul of yours,” he explained, still dry, still cold, but at least somewhat theatrical in how he explained the situation. It all boiled down to pattern recognition and how Wren apparently broke that mold.

”It won’t disqualify you from the program, so don’t jump to any conclusions,” he instructed her. His head leaned in slightly and his eyebrows raised.

”But, I will need you to explain to me exactly what is going on,” he told her, trying to balance reassurance and sternness all in one go. It was a hard line to walk.
There was a discernible tell for when she stopped pretending, a slight slip of the mask, no matter how high she tried keeping a smile and holding her head up. Her ears would just droop on their own, go limp, like that of a heart-broken pup that’s been left out to soak in the rain. And heavy would grow the invisible crown straining her neck.

Wren cocked her head down with a slight smirk. One that turned to a sneer when she started to feel her vocal cords tangle at the thought of spitting out just how far back she’d been set back to someone other than Zosar. A time would come where she’d be forced to swallow the knot, see things through no matter how much of a loon she ended up sounding like. Now was that time.
“You summed it up quite well already,” She huffed, frowning. Her eyes drifting to stare off in no particular direction. At the floor mats, the walls; wherever, but nowhere near his bi-colored eyes “I’m not alone in there. That’s what’s going on.”

“Remember what I tried asking you before we started? I wasn’t worried about Zosar or anyone else entering my soul room. I was more worried about what was already in there.”

“I already told this to Zosar. Told him not to tell anyone else. But…if you’re saying it won’t put me in a straightjacket yet, I guess I can tell you too. I was bound to tell you one day, anyway. There’s something living in my soul room. It’s almost like we share the same mind, same soul. It’s been there ever since those golems took me out of the fight in the forest— back when your ex made her stylish exit.”

“Can’t even be mad at her, honestly. She looked like a badass even while making a run for it.”

“I think my madness just got worse after the wave hit me. So bad that it’s starting to have full blown conversations with me now. He talks like he knows me, says he’s there to ‘help me’. To serve me. Even has more control over the damn room than I do, I think.”

“Sometimes, the more I talk to him, the less I feel like I’m all…myself? Inside there— y’know what I mean?” There was a sharp pause, her jaw clenching into a pained smile. Empty air filling out the in-between of the spiel for an insufferable moment ’No he doesn’t…’ She still hated how much of a lunatic she came off as when even trying to explain whatever was happening inside her soul. Made her feel like a failure.

Wren shook her head, folded her arms, claws scratching madly at her biceps. There was no other way to tell it, as sour as the words tasted in her mouth.

She cleared her throat, tried again “He doesn’t push it. Goes away when I tell him to stop bothering me. I…honestly don’t know if he truly wants to help me or not. If he’s just playing with me, waiting for me to slip up so that he can have his way with me while I can’t fight back. All I know is that I’m scared shitless of whatever’d happen if I let my guard down around him.”

“When you put the seal on me this morning, I felt like he’d gone quiet…Like I wasn’t on the verge of starving for once. I need to learn how to do it, Kisei. I don’t know when’s the next time we’ll run into some asshole that’s practically exuding madness in one of our missions. Don’t know if I’ll handle it. Don’t even know if it’ll still be me controlling my own body if I do recover after cracking.”

“You said it takes years but I…I need to master it as fast as I can.”

Kisei listened intently. A surprising fact about the Hoshi, especially given his wild reputation, was that he made for an active listener. This was in part the interrogation training from his clan, but it was also the remnant of being damaged goods himself. He spent years searching for answers in others and learned how to tell the difference between shallow placations and someone actually processing the words he was saying. The former created a feeling he didn’t like to impart onto others, so he didn’t.

She spoke, and he heard words. But, that isn’t all she did to communicate. Her ears folded down, her gaze shifted around the room, her head at times tilted downward, and she even clenched her teeth at one point, likely not even realizing half of the body language she was using. Meanwhile, Kisei made sure he was not just robotic in his listening, often shifting his head and his gaze to match her tempo, small gestures that when done with the right timing, made even a one-sided conversation feel more lively.

”In Japan, there is a word for what you’re describing. We call it a Bankai—the true sound of a soul,” Kisei told her, responding calmly, but very personally. He was offering her perspective from his side in a very multicultural way. He didn’t often go into much depth about his raising in Japan or their different customs, and most of the time he did, it was to correct Zosar. In this case, he did it for two reasons. He wanted to redirect the panic from Wren while also making her feel less like an outlier.

”You won’t find it in any book on Soul Studies. The idea of a Bankai was recycled into the concept of Wavelength… but it lost something in that transition. What it lost was something found in a different concept: wavelength entities. These are beings that for one reason or another dwell within the soul of an individual or even a group. Sometimes related to Madness, sometimes for other reasons, like family connections. Personally, I think even more was lost in separating the two concepts,” Kisei explained, pacing himself rather slowly, even slowing his breaths. On a certain level, he was trying to match the breathing pattern Wren had, then slow his own. This often caused a subconscious reaction in a listener to match the breathing of the person speaking, which in turn might help calm her down. Subtle tactics from the assassin.

”A Bankai is part of you. If it is the spirit of your clan, then it is the voice of your ancestors reaching out to you. If it is your own Madness, then it is but the voice of your most primal self. Whether it is in your blood or in your heart, it is part of you. Bankai may form because we deny part of ourselves, we silence a voice within us. For you, that was hunger. You spent many a late night wishing the pangs would just.. go away. Vanish. You fought your whole life against the urge; so, of course, it grew a voice the first chance it could,” Kisei continued, sharing just how much he knew about Wren from her dossier. It was a fact he tried to avoid spreading, as it often made others uncomfortable. Having their whole lives shared without their direct consent wasn’t exactly pleasant. But then, Kisei also shared a fair amount about himself to begin with.

”The main difference between secular Soul Studies and the Japanese tradition is how you see that voice. A Madness Entity is effectively defined as a separate conscience within your own that manifests with the goal of realizing your Madness. A Bankai is part of you that wishes for its voice to be heard, to be seen, to be understood—that even if sealed away, will still be part of you,” Kisei told her, emphasizing the last few words he said very intentionally. Not only because it was his belief, but because it was imperative to understanding the difference between the two ideas.

”You’re right, you do need to learn the Calm Seal and how to combat Madness. But…” he continued, more directly replying to the last thing she said, ”...you shouldn’t reject part of yourself. Everyone has a spark of Madness within them, there is no shame in it, Wren. Accepting those parts of yourself and working on them is part of self-growth. Fighting them only slows down the process.”

”Besides, you shouldn’t settle for someone that doesn’t appreciate every part of you,” he told her, eyebrows raised, ”including yourself.”

Wren was a melodramatic, theatrical woman at heart— gestured too much for her own good. Easy to get a read on what was bouncing around between those canid silver ears, not because she stereotypically had her heart tatted on her sleeve, but because she wore all her emotion on her like a second layer of skin. Watching her mood shift was like flipping through the scripts of a scene, a gradual thing, moving from act to act.

It was in the way her tail uncurled, her downcast ears rose like the dried husk of a sunflower come the rain, how her hands slowly shifted from her center— at some point through Kisei’s spiel, she had recovered herself, or her spirit.

He spoke, and she didn’t hear just his words. She was hearing, too, the gruff words of the melodramatic, theatrical old man that raised her. She cracked an easy smile at the stubborn memory sparking back alive “All this talk about things inside our souls reminds me of someone.”

Her response would’ve been wobbly, a simple ‘thank you’, sheepish and weak, had she not stood in the silence in-between his pauses to really process just how desperate she’d sounded just then. She was the mini-me of Luca Moretti, after all. Under the shell of all the jokes and happy-go-lucky attitude to her, she was an old man in the balcony of his apartment, cup of black coffee at his side and book in hand.

“My uncle. Guy was real big on his literature. Had almost an entire library in our living room, with books that looked like they’d crumble to dust in your hands if you picked them up too harshly. Lot of ‘em given out like they were charity once he turned himself in and they raided his house, I’m assuming.”

“There was this paragraph from one of them he’d recite some days, had it remembered like it were a verse. It was some pseudo-intellectual word vomit from an old article about Roman beliefs and their inconsistency.”

She folded her arms, tapped a clawed index on her bottom lip and sucking her teeth. Brain buffering, recalling— and then she recited it. She had it remembered like a verse herself “We must not assume every man to have one soul; we are to suppose him to have three or more indwelling forces that drive him. His breath, his shadow, his blood— so on, so forth.” She chuckled, shook her head “That’s not exactly what the paper said— not at fuckin’ all— but it was cool enough a’ paraphrasing to throw around mid-conversation and sound like a smart-ass charlatan. The people he repeated it to were mostly nitwits, me included, so it was striking even when he recycled it to make a point.”

“One of the most boring books in our place... But I think I get what it was tryin’ to say now.”

“For 'tis by Earth we see Earth, and by Water we see Water. By Ether, Ether divine, by Fire destructive Fire. By Love, Love, and Hate by cruel Hate.” She paraphrased. Another string of word vomit from one of her Uncle’s sleep inducing books, coming back to her like it’d only been hidden inside her pocket this whole time “The soul’s s’posed to be a natural thing. Base urges and things that drive us.”

“And we are not to depart our own nature...” She muttered out to herself, brows furrowing, eyes sharp. A quiet resignation, and begrudging acceptance in the same breath.

“Thanks, Kisei. It’s a lot more reassuring to see it as part of my soul rather than…some curse or tumor, I think.

She grinned, turning on her heel to face the entrance, hands on the back of her head, waving at Kisei with her tail to follow. She would’ve muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ to her old man for the gems she never cared to lend an ear to, but something told her it wasn’t necessary. He knew she was grateful, wherever he was.

“Well, ‘nough of that soapy shit. Let’s go check up on Zose. We just might catch him off guard oogling on some poor Hoshi woman or somethin’.”


Haze- The Regal Rper

 

[Pumpkid]

Dante Holiday

Location: Castle Kleist--Liberec Region, Czech Republic

Tags: RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper Merciless Medic EmperorsChosen​

It is by far the biggest mission Dante had ever expected as his first day back on the field. What was supposed to be a search party ended up being something bigger. It wouldn’t be a problem if he weren’t rusty and working on his own, except he is back to being a weapon partner with little connection to go by. What seems like the final stage of their operation, Dante realized he will have to put forth effort. He stated he could cooperate and he will. He hoped his and Sara’s wavelength was enough to keep his partner safe. ”This has gone on long enough.” He mumbled to himself.

Their final battle is taken at night where the bloodsuckers are advantageous. He wondered if the team were voluntarily jumping into a trap instead. Logically speaking, he would have bailed with his tail tucked between his legs, but he had already made a fool of himself earlier with his grand speech. He also couldn’t leave Sara to fight alone or sit on the sidelines. It wouldn't be fair after she kindly let him see her past. She had already dealt with enough people abandoning her. Dante groaned, disliking how soft he is toward the people who have been wronged or otherwise. One day his savior complex will get the best of him, but for now he needs to keep it together. A truce before falling back into his arrogant bubble.

As the group entered the castle and were given their task, Dante recalled the structure from the Baroness’s memories. It was eerie, cold and dark. Gothic architecture spoke for itself. It usually screamed danger. Dante shudders to think what kinds of things these bloodsuckers do. ”Creepy. This place is a horror house.” He commented. Goosebumps crawl along his skin and teeth chatter like some cartoon character. He adored the cute side of halloween in Death City, but anything regarding blood and gore was not his cup of tea.

As Elly called out to Sara for a scent inspection, what threw Dante off was the vegetable part. ”What? Someone can actually smell like a carrot?” Dante became curious if he can smell like one if he looks like one. He sniffs his hand to make sure to no avail. He let out a squeak, startled by the undead and vampires making their appearance. The team was under attack. The Duke is aware they were here. If the sniping wasn’t a sign then perhaps the bloodsucker must be blind as a bat. As Sara swung him around and blitzed through, he felt something familiar. His focus was on the targets. Helping the werewolf keep on her toes. The nagging feeling wouldn’t go away. He’s felt it a thousand times, and earlier too with the little girl.

Kisei’s suggestion had knocked some common sense into the male. He didn’t realize that magic might be a factor in the castle. He raised his head, ”So that’s what the I’ve been sensing.” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly as Sara asks about his ability to track magic. ”Ah, yeah. It’s one of my special qualities. Anti-wavelength. I can sense/see magic, identify it at a close proximity. I’m practically the bane of every witch’s existence.” He explained. ”It’s been a while. I forgot to do my part and search for any traces of mana.” His mint eyes scan the area, concentrating on the feeling. It took a little longer than anticipated, having never brushed up on his skills. He made a mental note to train for the occasion.

He could sense magic all around him, some spots faint but it’s there. He growled low, hating the fact the ninja was correct in something. That or just dumb luck. ”There are definitely hints of magic. I’m not sure if witches are involved or not. I can tell ya we need to be careful. I need to get closer to the source.” Now that Dante thought about it with a clearer mind, isn’t the undead considered magic? Necromancy was part of it. By that logic, magic is certainly being used.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn - North of JFK International Airport, New York
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Dani's gaze met the Paladin's with similar animosity. She kept quiet as he spoke, listening to his words, but just as it was clear that he was biting his tongue to only let his distaste slightly seep through, the same could be said for the Demon Sword. Waiting for he and Nadia to speak, Dani clicked her tongue as a grimace shone on her features before grabbing his hand. At first her grip was tight and aggressive, though it seemed to loosen overtime. Adrian's insurance was enough to get her to start the process, then the wavelength just had to work its magic.

"Maybe they have ulterior motives. Maybe you're bullshitting, or maybe someone just bullshit you and you actually bought it," Dani began with a growl, moving past her prior question as to where they got their unordinary power. "But right now, the abominations and trying to stop the thing that's tearing up New York, fucking up people's home, and getting people hurt. You assholes have only tried to puff your chest out and fuck with us. I don't give a shit if you hate my guts. The fuck does that say about you when the monsters have their priorities straight better than you."

It wasn't a question, it was a verbal jab followed by a huff. As the anti-madness wavelength subsided the madness, the anger and disapproval still remained but became much more calm. "...or maybe you do have your priorities straight..." She grumbled, a bit quieter.

Dani didn't even argue that she was likely a devil in his eyes. She felt like one. The fire demon shit didn't help. She felt useless as a kid, like an outcast in EAT, and then a monster thereafter 'the incident'. She lost her shit sometimes, and that pissed her off even more. She was sure as hell kicking herself for losing it here. She put her and Nadia in danger and Adrian too. She would always kick herself for that, no matter if they made it out unscathed. However, she didn't want to be a monster. A part of her wanted to help, or at least not be a detriment. Did they, though? Or did they just want to treat this like a fucking video game and 'win', whatever that meant?

The other Paladins even hadn't been aggressive on-site. They even offered to a truce to deal with the issue at large. Perhaps she was just trying to search for logic where there was none. Dani didn't care if people like this existed. The way she thought is that there was no bigger critic of her than herself, nothing anyone could tell her that she hadn't said six inches from a mirror at one point or another. Perhaps she was most disappointed because it was Adrian's brother.

"...but they're still ass backwards..." Dani mumbled, taking her hand off his arm after the wavelength had done its job. "...Learn some fucking Soul Perception. It's not like ours are particularly fucking common..." She complained further, emphasizing that they could have and should have picked out who they were as they approached the area. "...Thanks, even though it wasn't your fuckin' choice."

With that, Dani glanced over to the Fox Hunt member. "...So... they were what? Golems? Undead? Has to be like a witch or something, right? Why would someone be using fake or dead witches to ambush people in the middle of a Godzilla attack?"

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Blood Hunt
Elimination and Recovery
Date: 09/27/67
Location: Castle Kleist - Liberec Region - Czech Republic​

Blind to the world around them via the senses they were accustomed to, the situation, while not out of control, promoted a sense of the unknown, of urgency, of speed. While they had some generalities of what was going on, by and large the unknown remained. While the enemy was not a serious threat, the constant push and pull, the demands of battle kept much from investigating what to do next, provided they had the presence of mind to do such.

Sara's wild and random flailing about would produce a result as her hand chanced upon a magitech lighting torch, one that was clear of dust, soot and had scrawled stone from the subtle movements of the mechanical lock. The wall would part, cleanly opening to the sides, a double opening door. Now the scents and sensations of what was happening down there became all the more clear and likely the sense of magic's build up and flow. But most importantly a creature that fell squarely into the nature of uncanny valley, having three faces, five humanlike arms, two that were akin to claws, two legs of a horse were upon its central body and two more were its base.

Before Sara could do anything and as the rest dealt with the oncoming enemies, the creature quickly hobbled forward holding its hands out to the side. "Wait! We mean you no harm, we are here to speak for the Maker. We are Cabal." All three mouths said in unison, minus one that did not move, but could be heard.

And it would be but a matter of time till more of the undead and monsters of science would come to finish what was started.

Spoiler: The Beast

"We were told to stop you, to lay in ambush, but the Dark Lord is not the maker, and her whispers are all the more stronger!" It was then that the five hands would move across its body, with the final enemies down for now, a voice spoke directly into their minds; "I am the Speaker, For I speak no lies." Said one voice, as a hand covered the mouth, next the middle one would place two hands across holes that were likely the ears as a third eye that carried the properties akin to a Satori would then speak. "I am the Listener and hear only truth." Then the third covered its eyes as it licked the air in a bizarre display. "I am the Seer, for I see the souls of man and taste of their lies unseen..."

"We are Cabal. Heed well these words. Those whom you seek are in places of three, two actions must be taken or undone shall all be. Below the Lady, the Creator, the Mother! Below she channels power through the interloper witch, under the watchful eye of he who sees. If not dealt with then the ritual proceed, for life is in peril and your hostages deceased."

Then the one of mind would speak. "No heart of the spell exists, for that which why you are here, the energy looping, the soul brooding, for up above waystones show light to one and all, the Dark Lord calls."

"The Duke wills the spell and the corruption, for his will dominates all, for it to end at least he must fall." Said the one who could not hear.

With shifting movements Cabal and his distorted monstrous soul would peer all three sets of eyes at Elly, staring past Sara. "At least two must fall to end this all. The Duke and the Ritual we speak. Child of man, child of the false, child of the wolf, child of the sands, child of.... no, no more to say. We shall let you pass, but a choice must you make. Believe the words of Cabal. Cabal helps to free the mother; Cabal helps free the children of man from the blood thirster."

Running its hands across the brevity of its body, before speaking, tilting its heads within the mound of flesh that made up its body. "We are not friends, we are not enemies, or are we? Help you fight we shall not, for the Duke's rule is absolute and we Cabal, though first of the brethren, our will is but to serve, alas shall we fight? You've no choice nor does she? We wonder, we Ponder. Silence for now, what is your hail?"

It was debatable how much more useful the creature could be, but with the lab being open it became more obvious to Sara and Dante that the magic that was sensed was being shot upwards, traveling along conduits so it could store energy and broadcast the spell, which also seemed to be implemented via ritual to some point up above. If what the creature said was true, then stopping any one given part would change nothing of the ritual, ideally all three would be handled but at the least two must be, the Duke was the catalyst of the spell, and the blood sacrifice that was seemingly underway in the dungeon had the most important priority.

Though it begged the question of if this lab and magic grown monster could be trusted. At the least to Sara there would be no falsehoods in its smell.

And then one smiled, the licker, the seer, a row of razored teeth. "Confused are you? About the third. Wretched souls born of your kind, like us, traitors to those above. Your traitors, guard the runes. The stones, the relay."

Interactions/Mentions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Kisei) Merciless Medic (Sara) Pumpkid (Dante) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Castle Kleist, Czech Republic
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Elly internally sighed as she cleaved through one skeleton after another. "This doesn't feel like the Baroness, this feels like a last ditch effort," She remarked. The Duke was an ancient vampire, an elder to the Baroness even. He had spent an obscene amount of time cultivating this plot and his roots in this country. Retreating to build anew, hiding in the shadows while being hunted, Elly doubted the Duke would immediately opt for that. No, this felt like he was aiming to win, and by that logic, it stood to reason that he would likely be guarding at least a portion of what maintained the ritual. At least, that was Elly's logic.

However, as the skeletons fell and the buzz returned, her brief neutral frown disappeared and a pleasant smirk substituted on her face. Her statement was only emphasized by the fact that Dante, their mana detector, didn't detect much at all. At least, not nearly enough to go off of.

She followed suit, bringing up the rear as Sara pointed out a false wall, though as Elly reached it and the creature, her face shifted. A slightly furrowed brow, narrowed eyes, and her smile drooped slightly. Of course, she wasn't looking at the creature's appearance which, in and of itself was abhorrent. She was looking within its soul, which was a disturbing mess. It gave her similar vibes to Eros's concoctions. Regardless, it didn't appear on its face that it was lying, though Elly certainly believed when it said it wasn't a friend either.

She changed her focus from spirit to mana and could see there was greater density past the door and leading inward past the creature. "...Two... Two..." Elly pondered aloud. That would mean they would likely have to split their forces, which the meister was loathe to do. However, that thing was telling the truth and if they took their time the ritual could complete before they managed to eliminate the second target.

Kisei wouldn't be happy, she was sure.

"Alright... it seems truthful from what I see. Barring Sara smelling different, this is what we'll do as we don't have much time," Elly declared affirmatively. "There's high magic density going to the lower levels. A leyline must be there. You both will tackle it and whomever is keeping it anchored. Dante should be able to cut the leyline and his anti-magic wavelength will help if the witch or any other magic happens to be down there. Kisei and I will proceed towards where the Duke likely is. Once you have finished, you can make your way to the Duke to reinforce us. Kisei and I stand the best chances as a solo pair, so this is the most effective division, all things considered..."

Even if the Duke was stronger than they were, Kisei's ability could drain on him as an undead while powering them up. So long as they survived for long enough, they could turn the tables. Worst case scenario, they could also cheat and have Kidd drop in.

"If there are any concerns, say them now or forever hold your piece..." Elly said, her eye trailing over to one of the scythe blades as she almost expected something from Kisei at least.

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul Haze- Merciless Medic The Regal Rper Pumpkid

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Czech Republic/ Castle

Cutting through the various undead was certainly work. It went without saying that things really would be bad if the Duke could change half a country of people with whatever present ritual he was working on.

Just as he had slain the last poor undead soul and let Wren make the choice of consuming yet another, Zosar turned his attention to the commotion with Sara activating the hidden switch. Finding his expression hardening at the creature before them, at least for a moment as he watched and listened to it speak.

‘So basically Duke needs to die regardless of us sabotaging the ritual, and to stop it completely we need to destroy the relay sources.’ Watering down all that was said really for Wren, and to make sure he wasn't missing anything either.

Wasn't surprising really. Elly, confirming most that was said being true, just got a nod from Zosar. Really, he didn't expect the new entity here to remain as autonomous as it presently was, given the very clear implication it wasn't exactly an ally here.

The follow up plan Elly came up with on what to do given the short time they were on now, wasn't surprising either. Realistically they were a better match against the Duke, and if the old vamp couldn't resonate then at least to some extent they had better chances fighting solo given the display of Kisei's abilities so far.

Besides, much like Elly, Zosar hadn't forgotten the trick Kisei had pulled with the Fae to get the mirror. Whatever it was, it probably would come in handy again, at least to keep them both safe, for the time being at least while they were busy.

“I've got no problems with that unless there's dissent. Sara, D, if we're going, we should go now. If Elly and Kisei are handling the Duke we just need to shut the ritual down as Cabal said and take out the defectors. Sounds like they are responsible for guarding the relays so let's get going if there's no disagreement on splitting.”

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul Pumpkid Haze-

Interactions: Merciless Medic

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Kisei☆Hoshi​

Deadsoul​

Species Death Golem
Partner Eloise Keegan
Rank Two-Star

Location Castle Kleist, Czech Republic
Mission Blood Hunt
Status Focused, somber

​

Tags: The Regal Rper Haze- Merciless Medic RedArmyShogun Pumpkid

'Worst case scenario, they die and I have to transform to finish off the Duke,' Kisei noted, mute and matter-of-fact. He didn't like this outcome, but he also didn't like the situation. The six of them were just a shot in the dark to try and minimize casualties. The Hoshi honestly wasn't convinced that they wouldn't have been sent in even if they couldn't handle this. Any chance of solving this or stalling this type of outcome was better than none.

Bloodhunters could be terrifying and ruthless, especially those from the traditional families. If a hundred thousand new Bloodsuckers were just made without any guidance during their fledging moments, you best bet those Bloodhunters would do their damnedest to put each one down - assuming, that was, they didn't just carpet bomb entire cities if they were taken over. In fact, chances were, a few hundred people had already been lost. Those gnomes were slowing the encroachment of the ritual, but it was doubtful they were outright containing it. If that was an option, this likely would be more a magical problem than one of assassination.

Yet, here they were. The Bloodhunters would clean up the mess later, now was the time to kill something. To kill someone. That or lose a good portion of the country.

The reality was sinking in for. Kisei. All his time as an assassin might not mean a damn thing here. Elly was talented, sure, and he wasn't even comparing her to Ao. No, he was comparing her to Lord Kidd. This whole situation was well over their head, he speculated. The power levels were unknowns, the threat was unknown, and this was all supposed to mostly be about finding some DWMA CIA agents. Had the cards been put out in front of him, this would never the the hand he played. Unfortunately, this was what happened when there were hidden cards on the table. Once they flipped, plans changed.

Of course, he only told her that internally.

"We were told tens to hundreds of thousands of lives are on the line." It was a fact. It was the resonating fact that made any of this worth it. The only reason Kisei or Elly would have ever taken this risk. It a grim reminder of the situation.

It was what he shared with the team now.

"Now is not the time for grudges. It's not the time for mercy. It's not the time for discussion," he told them, no less matter of fact than he was when he spoke to Elly via their internal dialogue. Their shared souls where the colder truth was split between them.

"It's the time to kill shit, whether its with strategy or extreme prejudice. If you need to go feral, now is the time. If you need to pretend they're Hoshi, do it - I don't care. You need to fight like winning would fix your fucking childhoods." It was simple as that. If the trauma that sculpted them could be the trauma that fueled them, they might just make it out alive.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long - Aki Kiyoko - Wes Kraven - Korne
New York City - Car Rentals JFK Airport
September 26th​

Watching the results of her attack, or the lack thereof, Feng was getting more than a bit tired of this, as she said in a language only Aki and herself knew;

‘<Damn bitch! I thought witches were limited to one sort of magic and theme! Goes from corpse puppeteer to hair needles!>’

There were but scant seconds or milliseconds to react. Feng’s method of combat was far apart from what this was. ’Unless some of you have ideas I’m going to use the cars as cover and run right inside the rental, hopefully she comes to play. I can’t afford to take time to destroy that circle, and Aki’s projectiles are akin to a handgun, not a particle beam or some such. I’m dead if I stay out here, we can’t rush her either. Any of you got any special features I don’t know about?’ Feng said, wasting no time to dart away from the circle and among the remaining cars at the rental as she put considerable effort towards focusing on her speed and agility to dodge the no doubt oncoming hail of lethal hair.

’I cut things,” Korne responded, dry to the point of near sarcasm. He was a sword. His wavelength oscillated. He did, in fact, only cut things. If she was searching for a miracle, she wouldn’t find it in him.

’And, you should probably run,’ Korne added, keeping his suggestions short, sweet, and simple. He wasn’t against the idea of using a car for cover, but without knowing how fine the control over these needles were or if the thin outer panel of a car would stop them, keeping up the momentum with constant movement was the best course of action.

He actually almost always favored movement.

‘I’m not going to pretend to understand witches. I don’t even really understand Maria,’ Aki murmured in response to Feng’s Chinese comments. She paused as Korne spoke before adding her own. ‘...I shoot things,’ She said after some pause, though not with the sarcasm of Korne but a sheepishness of being less useful in this situation. Her weapon form was about as straightforward and dense as she was.

‘I’m already giving you what I have.’ Wes sighed out as he focused on keeping the resonance going. The witch was too far away to hit with a direct blast of sound, or at the very least one that would do any lasting damage. The needles were proving to be an even bigger pain than the abominations, their oppressive volley meaning that even if he wanted to act as a shield, at best he’d be covering a small portion while every other area was pierced through.

And Korne was right. They had no idea how strong the hair needles were, and whether or not they could pierce through a car door. Before, they had embedded themselves into the asphalt, but it seemed as if whatever magic the witch was using had given them a dramatic boost. They could dodge them, but unless they wanted to act out a real life bullet hell, they would either need to take out the witch, or find some way to break the magic circle.

‘If she wants to keep throwing her hair at us, why don’t we start throwing shit back?’ While the circle might have had a way to dampen Aki’s shots, it probably didn’t have the same dampening effect on a chunk of reinforced metal. Even if it didn’t hit the witch, it would force her to either move or divert her attention to the projectile. ‘She hasn’t moved from that spot since the fight started. Think she has to keep still to use her shit?’

With the feedback from the rest or lack of it, Feng did indeed keep moving, she had little choice, unless she could speed around the circle and take on the Witch directly, going through it was not an option, and destroying the circle would require a bit of power and time, the former she had, the latter she did not.

’Yeah, on it.’ she said in reply to all three, not having been given a new idea, she would carry out her act, mixing in some of what Wes had suggested. Getting near one car she would lash out with a swift blow of Korne against the side, aiming to cleave off the door or to cut right through the top before kicking the mound of metal and glass, though light weight it was now a flying projectile sent back across to the witch as Feng burst off to do the same action a couple more times, moving closer and closer to the car rental building proper.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (NPC's) @Shotgunpenguin (Wes)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

North of JFK Airport, New York City, New York
GM Post​

en route to Eastern front​

Brennan had little to say between the two of them. Dani and Nadia, that was. In his eyes, both were lesser than him. Heathens. Nadia spewed some words that were a facsimile of understanding the gospel, but it was clear she knew not of what she spoke of. Dani was a cretin full of rage that needed a leash even shorter than that of his brother. The two were lost and confused, even more so given they questioned what he told them. Truth though it was, they didn't know what to believe. Their back and forth only made them seem like chickens with their heads removed.

The simple reality was that the Church wanted Fox Hunt eliminated. In the war of public relations, allowing them to give their kind any time of positive image was a grave problem.
#ece6de
The other simple reality was that Brennan—and likely the other Paladins—knew nothing of the Witches or why they apparently dissolved. Not that he was upset they did.

He was sure that the final simple reality was that even if pleaded his case, it would be wasted breath. He couldn't convince them and even if he could, it would do no good. Or, more accurately, be of no benefit to him. The victory belonged to them and Fox Hunt.

He wasn't even sure if they could have defeated the Bloodsuckers without interference anyway. Not now. Not after seeing them in action.

"I've done what I promised," he told them. Cold words still coated in chilled venom. Most of his men were back with the other church members; he was the only straggler. In a way, his wavelength was the spoils of battle. Used to tame Dani and Adrian, Brennan was made little more than a whore for his ability. He wanted to return and cleanse himself of this.

"There is confirmation that we still have enough supplies to try our original plan, but only about half the attempts. We can still make it, too," the techhead of Fox Hunt chimed. Blunt and straight to the point, but this time with a slightly more urgent tone in his voice. Unlike before, there were now plans. "Steel still wants to try. We intend to head out once the trucks are loaded," he told them.

"You are still welcome to assist, but if the Witch-sitch is your priority, we won't take affront," he added, transitioning on with an explanation of precisely why there was now a sense of urgency. Fox Hunt had a plan of action and it would go on whether or not Nadia complied. They were, of course, their own people with their own agenda.

For first time in a hot minute, Adrian injected himself into the conversation. "I say we go with them. I don't know much about magic and the best we could do is get a sample of whatever they melted into," he shared, "but I do think it'd be a damn shame to do all this fighting and not see what we were fighting for."

---

Car Rentals JFK Airport​

The new tactic Feng employed would demonstrate mixed results. The glass on the car door would shatter at the dozens of hits it took. The door itself was pierced through in plenty of places, demonstrating that anywhere without the steel reinforcement frame was made swiss cheese by the flying hair needles. Their concern over the durability of a thin sheet of steel was warranted. However, the tiny needles did not have sufficient force to actually stop the door. In an interesting turn of events, the hundred-armed abomination darted in the way to catch it, coiling around it and crushing it with its inhuman strength like a snake to a field mouse.

It never even reached the other hulk of a zombie or the Witch.

What followed were waves and waves of needles. Tens of thousands carpeting the pavement and piercing into it as they pursued Feng. The Meister was still faster. In fact, as the fight went on, the few seconds she had already proved her body adapted quickly to Resonance. It made sense, it was a slight trait of those with her gene. Her very flesh, her muscles, her sinew, it was faster in adapting to new and powerful spiritual energy. It was one half of why the Berserker Wavelength was so powerful when it was used. However, she didn't need to make use of it to gain a benefit. Her body itself felt it.

She was getting faster with the Resonance from Wes. Wes could even feel it. As if each muscle fiber in her legs were happy to sing in tune with the raw power that Resonance was providing her. The boons of being both a Utility Meister and of her lineage were showing. She could easily dodge the needles so long as she never let them get in front of her. No matter how the Witch would carpet the ground, it was never fast enough or in sufficient volume to catch the quartet. What did occur was that the needles could be ripped from the ground or even the few that were lodged in the door, meaning there was a reuptake of them. Feng couldn't simply stall them out.

Fortunately, she wouldn't have to. Only a few moments into the rain of needles, a certain veil was lifted. The needles covered a dangerously large area and the Patchwork Witch had forgotten that there was more than just Feng in the surrounding area. Sloppy attacks meant collateral damage. That collateral damage at present was another Witch. Struck by several of the hair needles and shouting it some foreign, European language, she cursed her ally. Her Soul Protect broke. She was hiding in sight the entire time, masked as one of the many corpses that laid about. She stood from her position as a false corpse and ejected the needles inside of her with a burst of her own magic, seemingly capable of self-healing.

Of course she could. She was the actual necromancer.

RedArmyShogun @Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen​