Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Deaths Hollow Apartment Building​

"Oh Dear... Tumbling down she goes." Fiddling with her knife, Maria moves closer to the other and yawns, as a large shrouded figure that looked much like her but with scars and even the faint stains of blood stood over Dani, a pair of wooden crates, as her simple command spell instructed the Golem to carry the materials. "..." Looking down over the girl, Maria pulls a pouch of coins in her other hand and ponders what to do, she had came here simply for a snack, now she had waylaid some girl on mistake. "Ah.. I know what to do, I can't leave you here just to shiver, poor thing.. But I don't want to drag you up the stairs.. I might get in trouble... Yes.. That will do." Putting the knife away she extends her right hand, silver rings upon her lower fingers as seemingly from nothing strands of wire form with a faint glow, connecting to the cloaked figure.

"Is this what they call a sleepover? Though she is not a friend, I'll have to make her a friend, yes. Let's go." With that the figure reaches down with a hand that shown with joints and rivets as it grabs hold of Dani by the right leg, dragging her off down the hall and towards the unmarked door. Unknown to Dani the locks would turn and groan, the door opens.

Upon awakening Dani would find herself in what seemed to be a workshop, though one unlike any other, drills, presses, saws, even piles of lumber could be found. Alongside this were some furnishings, what seemed to be a partial assembly line ran along the walls, as did beakers and candles, spools of thread and bundles of cloth, chemicals and concoctions. But most importantly of all were the items on the assembly line and indeed, all around the room.

Wooden dolls, heads, limbs, full body, some clothed, some being clothed, a tremendous amount of miniature and human sized weapons were stacked in a corner and a cloaked large figure stood impassively at the door, while on some of the benches was something that seemed all the larger and in the process of being built. And at the foot of it all was the blue dressed woman, with a saucer and cup of tea at a desk, some sort of Alchemic experiment in front of her, with a number of books and a desk lamp as she munched on some bagged chips, a fairly standard sandwich on a plate was beside her and untouched. "Thats it yes? Hahaha.. Yes."

The cloak from before would become apparent to Dani, provided the dolls and state of the room did not alarm her, it was a blanket belonging to the bed she now laid about, she was unharmed and not restrained, though in someplace odd for sure, the woman casting a glance or two back at her guest to see when she would awaken.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice

The peer turned mentor held her attention even if she barely looked in his direction, Adrasteia simply refusing to look at him. Most likely it was to avoid her emotions interfering with her want to succeed, her distaste being something she knew she had to stomach. Her brain was trying to be logical, but her body wanted to walk off. She probably could never shake that, the instinct from her last time spent with him just made it hard.

Yet she stood there, nodding along as he described the idea of the seal. She had heard early simple explanations of the idea it was a barrier, but that was many months ago and the refresher brought it into more light. It seemed simple, as all things did with health. Just eat right. Don’t be sad. Don’t let things bother you. Be easier and more positive with yourself. Separate soul and mind. Simple in idea, hard in practice. She and Midori knew this, and it was likely why he emphasized his points on the technique. Then… he followed it up with an emotionally charged follow up. Her being too hard on herself? Near perfect execution of sound mind? In her mind those two statements sounded like contradictions. By working hard you achieve perfection, and working hard requires you to work yourself harder than before. She had become more strict since her last placement release from residential care, but she didn’t consider herself hard on herself. Her pushing her own body to its limits before her treatment and then her constantly stifling her excitement to control her madness…. Was she? Had she slowly become unable to relax truly? She shrugged it off, no reply made as she had no clear way to answer.

It was now when the one apparently named Emira approached her and talked to the whip, her mind reeling in to try to muster a response. The only one she could get was a neutral look and a soft shrug. Today had been full of strangely positive people and dissatisfaction, so she at least had refrained from showing discomfort. The weapon was, however, beginning to question herself now more. Had she become antisocial out of fear? Was she… becoming what she was like before? A recluse with no presence besides who was next to her?

….nah… I’m not some girl stuck studying and hiding anymore… no… they have to work for me. All of them.

She tried to build up her walls as she picked at them, her disinterest in her partner and isolating attitude rising. She didn’t need them. None of them…

That was until her name was called, her eyes moving to Midori who had left her side without her even realizing it. Somewhere between Emira approaching she had been too distracted to notice much with her internal monologues. His speech seemed to prop her up, her reaction again almost to show discomfort at the positivity… but she let it fade and just looked away. She didn’t know how to reply, so she gave a simple “…yeah gotcha.”

Did this mean she didn’t overhear his talks with Zosar?
100%.

And now… Midori left her and the meister alone. His name had begun to fade from her mind already, her eyes casting down to look at her phone as she felt the awkwardness surface. She thought on what to do… leave? Walk away and just wave bye? Would that look bad after the talks Midori had with her? How would that reflect her efforts?

… I hate group assignments…

coded by: @s e v e n​

​

Interacts: Sir Les Paul Kyuubey The Regal Rper
​

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Jarvis Briseis - DWMA, Library

Lying flat on his back with a book over his face, if anyone asked what Jarvis was doing, he would’ve told them it was ‘Calm Mind Training’…which wouldn’t be a complete lie. Jarvis entered his soul space easiest when his physical body was asleep or comatose. There were less distractions that way. Less focus on the outside world. More focus on his inner world. His soul.

A labyrinth in a void of darkness. Many doors. Many staircases all leading different directions. Someone coming into his soul for the first time would have a hard time finding their way to his inner place. However, Jarvis had been in there many times before. He knew the way like he knew the back of his hand. And so, Jarvis confidently climbed the ever-changing steps.

The room Jarvis entered was dark and cluttered, with comic books and clothes littering the floor, but for him it was comfortable. Familiar. His room. Making a beeline for his bed, the softest, fluffiest bed imaginable, Jarvis threw himself happily on the mattress. Calm mind training centered around defense against madness, so he supposed his priority while in his soul space ought to be building up more fortified defenses to protect his soul room. More staircases, perhaps? Walls? The book he’d read talked about ‘seals’…and from the sounds of it, he’d already passed the second one…but he didn’t know.

Altering and creating something within his own soul was easy, but doing so in another’s soul space wasn’t something he’d ever tried. Even then “easy” was situational. Making a bag of chips for him to snack on in his soul space was a lot different than making a container for madness. Jarvis yawned. Well, he could do that later. For now a quick nap came first—

The light in his room suddenly turned on.

Groaning, Jarvis came face to face with the girl who always waited for him in his soul. Arms folded, and a stern look on her face, she looked no different than she did 16 years ago, so he knew there was no way she could be real. A figment/memory created by his mind? A piece of the soul he’d eaten when he killed her manifested in his own? Jarvis couldn’t say for certain. However, she had become an important part of his soul. It was her presence that made sure he never forgot who he was. She guarded the box that kept his hunger contained. Jarvis enjoyed talking to her when he entered his soul space.

Sometimes.

Now, when he wanted to sleep, wasn’t exactly one of those times. She pointed out the window and Jarvis, who was now focusing, could hear Zari’s voice echoing loudly from the outside:

“That can’t be allowed, can it?”​

The hell? Was the kid already picking a fight with someone?

Jarvis’s soul room gradually disappeared as the young bloodsucker blinked, opening his to see he was back in the library. Well, more accurate to say he opened his eyes to a litany of words. Sighing Jarvis removed the cover titled ‘Your Inner Soul’ from his face, and slowly sat up. If his meister was going to involve himself in some sort of fight, then it was a demon weapon’s job to make sure they were awake enough to transform as needed. Now on his elbows, head sticking out from the bookshelves, Jarvis’s red eyes darted over to where Zari and Maiden were looking at…and saw a girl with a mushroom hat. A witch? Certainly looked like a witch. Jarvis couldn’t see her soul, as he never bothered training his soul perception beyond what was needed, but he could smell the magic about her. In times of old, people like her would’ve been the enemies. Now, they were allies.

Crimson eyes darting between the girl that grew mold in the library and Zari, Jarvis yawned, sensing no danger between them. A person cut between the duo, rightfully shushing Zari, who had been speaking loudly in a place of quiet study, before disappearing behind one of the other shelves. Jarvis’s eyes followed Brown-coat newcomer for a moment before shrugging and rolling onto his back, arms straight as the lazy bloodsucker held the book open in front of him. He could hear the conversation between the Maiden and his partner…and nothing to add to that. So long as Zari wasn’t in danger, or picking a fight with ordinary witches growing mold in the library, they could look into whatever they wanted. Do what the mentor told them to, or, as in the case with the ball game, they could not. DWMA, after a certain period, was mostly self-study anyway…and Jarvis had always been a firm believer that one’s education was in their own hands.

Whether one’s teacher was good, bad, or mediocre, mattered little.

On that note, it would be amusing to see what sort of teacher Zari would be—more entertaining than the book he’d been skimming at least.

Closing the book ‘Your Inner Soul’ with a sigh, Jarvis jumped to his feet and lazily made his way over to where Zari and Maiden were rudely watching a witch work with open mouths. He offered Maiden the book he’d just skimmed. “If you’re looking for the standard, textbook way to get started, this has a couple of pointers...”

Jarvis shrugged. “But I learned best from experience. If you’ve never seen your soul space before, having a meister help you get in there for the first time is the quickest way to familiarize yourself with it. Get the image of what it looks like in your head and bringing yourself back there on your own becomes that much easier.”

Though…he also found it a little odd that an autonomous weapon…who seemed to fairly good soul perception (based on the little he witness of the fight for the goal)…had yet to delve into the contents of his own soul. Peeking into one’s own soul should be easier than peeking into the souls of others, shouldn’t it? Listening to the beat of one’s own wavelength? It was really just soul perception…but backwards. At least, that was how Jarvis had been taught. He couldn’t look into the souls of others on his own. Not yet. But his own soul was perfectly visible to him, especially when he closed his eyes. “…It’s really just backwards soul perception.”

The rest was just getting in deeper, looking even further inward. Those who had a talent for sensing souls shouldn’t have too much difficulty. There were tips and tricks to make it easier of course...relaxing, meditating in one's favorite place, etc...but Maiden could find such information as easily from a book as he could calling the number Midori gave them. Explaining took too much effort.

Turning to Zari, Jarvis made a simple comment. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

He could’ve commented on the witch that Zari pointed out but, to be frank, Jarvis had no interest. Zari was his partner. Maiden was, at least, a fellow classmate. However, like in the case of Brown-coat, the witch growing mold in the library had nothing to do with him…about as odd as the random ghost that flew past him while he’d been napping; A soul twisted by magic to be tied to the world and given form. What DWMA allowed, what it didn’t allow, Jarvis didn’t care. Getting involved with others unnecessarily was a hassle. He’d grown used to his hermit lifestyle, living in Siberia for 10 years. Familiar with it. He was only trying to get back into DWMA to finish what he had once started, not make friends. That said, Jarvis wouldn’t stop Zari if the meister took an interest in the witch and wanted to make friends either--just like he didn't care what Zari chose or chose not to learn. The kid looked like he needed it and, unlike Jarvis, it was his first time at DWMA. First time at a school probably—at least, that was what the social awkwardness would imply.

Friends, social cliques, popularity…those were things that had been important to him when he was younger. Probably part of a healthy social life as well.

Jarvis yawned.

Prizzy Kriyze Sir Les Paul Meredith

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Lush Coffin​

The Lush Coffin | March 7th, 2067​

”There is security. But, don’t worry. With your biometrics in, I’ll have profiles made up for you before you even get there. You’ll just need to say your name at the gates, and you’ll be let in. No one will bother; I’ll give you clearance to all facilities. Pool, sauna, and whatnot. Standard amenities. The elevator will work by facial recognition, the door to my room will let you in via thumbprint,” Gauss said, explaining how the grounds worked. Noah asked a fair question. Instructions Gauss probably should have given. To him, these things were as common as the hostess in a hotel. Clearly not everywhere, but nothing new.

Noah, who had ignored what Prudence said as it irked him, nodded at Gauss’ words, surprised. “Huh.” He was amazed, honestly. He wasn’t expecting that. Was Thaddeus just doing that to get on their good side, or was he being genuine about giving some of his expensive services and facilities out of kindness? If the man was this trusting, he was either a fool or didn’t have much experience in those who may take advantage. Either way, this was his Meister now. Everything told him he had to give 100% because he knew Gauss wouldn’t settle for less when it came to partnering with not just him but Prudence, as well. “Thanks, man.” With a lingering gaze on the Healing Wavelength lasers, he made a mental note to really start training that ability of his. If he was going to be more useful, he had to lift his weight. With a tinge of guilt and disdain curling his lip, he left, catching up to Prudence.

Now that he was next to Prudence, he can talk to her about what the hell she said back there. “Faraway benefit, huh? Ya don’t have a clue ‘bout how that whole she-bang works, do ya?” His irritation in his tone was evident, but it matched the almost constant resting bitch face he had held since he left Lot C. “One, it’s not a chase, it’s acquirin’ an opportunity. Two, the most important people I have I can count on one hand. Don’t tell me what I should be mindful of.” His gaze lingered on her for a bit before he looked down at the floor. “I’m already well aware.” His voice low, the thought of seeing Gauss on the cot with the machine doing what he could have done faster if he had just-…

What an idiot he was. Why was it eating at him? He was fine when he could see it, but he guessed those ethics classes from years ago, his therapist, and Sara’s behavior were really getting to him, rubbing off on him.

Prudence stole a glance at the boy walking next to her. His visible irritation alarmed her. She had been thoughtless in giving out her opinion. It was strange, and disturbing. Usually she would just have smiled and made some harmless remarks on his explanation, but this time she’d gone and spat some sagely advice for no reason at all. The words just came out on their own, as if compelled by some foul force. Whichever it was, she hated it, and made a mental note to avoid letting it slip again.

“My apologies.” She inclined her head to the side for a slight bow. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

Noah looked at her once, only to return his gaze to the path they were to take, clicking his tongue at the roof of his mouth as the only response.

For the rest of the walk, she made little effort to strike up a conversation. There was no need for it. She felt it proper to leave the insulted boy to his thoughts, as for herself, the view along the way served as a passing amusement. She didn’t think much, not of Noah, nor of Thaddeus.

And neither did Noah, as he wrestled with his thoughts enough to shove them down and away so he can attempt to calm himself with his counting.

Spoiler: Exterior Description

As it turned out, Gauss left out a lot of details about where he lived. As one might expect, West Harrow Street was one of the newer additions to Death City and in the residential district. What he didn’t tell them was that everything on West Harrow 800 was an affluent house or residence. The first few stops along the way were about as close to mansions one had within Death City, given its density. When Gauss said his complex was gated, he failed to mention that most were, and that gates here were more ornate with their inlaid brick than the cobblestone on the Death City Mainstreet.

One thing Gauss was accurate about, however, was that 849 West Harrow was fairly obvious. Everything about it was modern. Sharp edges, square designs, symmetrical geometrical patterns. It would have done Kidd good. The gate itself was just as ornate with shimmering black bars inside of a maroon red archway and a small, anodized speaker box for their names. The gates opened without some dull creak or the whirring of motors. It was swift. Silent. Maintained.

Beyond the gates were the perfectly manicured lawns with clean-cut shrubbery and grass too green for Nevada. The cement walkway they were one was stained and sealed to appear a metallic, silvery sheen. And, of course, there was a small octagonal fountain with the most cliche set of marble swans one could imagine. It was everything one probably imagined when thinking of where Gauss lived–assuming it wasn’t a mansion of some kind.

How zoning worked down this street was clearly an odd mystery made by the miracles of money as obviously some street numbers were skipped, and given how huge the main building was here with three attached tertiary buildings and an enclosed garage, it made sense as to why such would be necessary. These “residential” units were definitely a gray area for commercial use.

Noah was pretty irate when he realized a lot of the buildings were similar to how Gauss had explained his home, and even more so when the numbers seemed to be randomly zoned. It was by luck that they didn’t take too long finding his home, which he gawked at.

The main building was about as neo-architectural as one could get. Well over ten stories tall and every two floors, the building itself shifted forward to create an inverse staircase overhang that was supported by more black, anodizing reinforcements. The entire chic of this complex was black and sleek with windows with solar panels integrated into the side of the building on the East and West ends, massive tinted windows, and harsh edges at every corner.

The interior was hardly as dark as the outside, with more lively colors. A clean, brighter look with various-off white primary colors and bright stained oak accents in the foyer area. The new-age look was lessened, until where necessary with brushed stainless steel being the primary metal accent and the anodized black appearance of the exterior no longer being the main theme. This area did not have a true living hostess, instead a front desk with the holographic one greeting them.

“Welcome to the Lush Coffin, subsidiary of Thaltek, Inc. I am Lekha, the designated hostess of this establishment. Thaddeus has informed me of your arrival, Noah and Prudence. You have been granted access to all facilities on-site, if you so please. Mister Thales’ room, if you are more direct, can be reached by taking a left at the main hall to the central elevator or the stairs behind it. If you have any questions, feel free to ask! I am integrated with all on site services,” the hostess informed them in a professional, perfectly human tone one might have expected from an international hotel.

The Thales’ wealth was apparent as they walked to 849 West Harrow. The place and the buildings’ design were something like bland water for her, they were alright but she found that she had no strong opinion in their favor, nor in any way they bothered her much. She was used to a more traditional household during her time with the Pontmercy family before attending DWMA. Back when Muriel and she had had the whole top floor of an age-old Château to themselves. Old fashioned wall hangings and tactful but elaborated oak furniture were her element for a long time. And unlike the bright and sterilized interior of Thaddeus’ place, hers had been a moody place behind damask curtains. Even where she lived now, a small apartment of little comfort beyond the absolute necessities, with dull-colored concrete walls was in great contrast to his place’s spaciousness. If anything, she found herself a bit uncomfortable but only that.

“Do you want to have a look around?” she said something at last to Noah.
Noah had been busy staring at everything. It was huge. Why was it shaped like some giant’s stairs? It looked like it would fall on them and he felt very nervous just even walking near it, let alone looking at how tall it was. Did he say top floor? At least it would have an amazing view. As for the inside and the hologram, he was staring at the hologram wondering if it was an actual recording of a woman or an AI. At least she had wonderful directions. Noah’s own family had a large mansion, but having only one kid, they rented out their rooms to their friends. The mansion was nice for being in someplace horrid like Portland. Noah felt like it was the only safe space amidst the crime and drugs and really strange people.

A budding sensation of familiarity befell him and Noah swiftly ignored it, thankful Prudence said something. Finally. That awkward silence getting here was grating.
“I mean, I feel like other people live here, too. But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt too much. Gauss probably’s gonna be on that bed for a fat minute. Might as well before he arrives.” Noah stayed beside Prudence, his hands in his pockets as he looked around, still trying not to gawk but staring at everything in awe. He turned his attention to the hologram. Lekha, was it?.

“Uhh, hostess lady. What’re the on-site facilities and where are they?” He inquired, unsure of where these places like the pool Gauss had talked about. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind a bit of a dip later.

”Each room and its entertainment options are catered to its respective guests. In that regard, we do not have such universal amenities as recreational rooms or a gymnasium, although there is an open lot on the West end of the lot behind the main building for sports activities and assorted options for tennis, basketball, and a backboard available for installation upon request. Our guests typically prefer their privacy, so this is rarely used. On the East end is an exclosed pool, 2 two gendered saunas, six total hot tubs also gender–two of which being smaller and more personal–and our onsite restaurant The Silver Nail. Our on spot staff includes the standard cleaning options, including dedicated staff for your laundry and personables. We do have on-site dry cleaning options, but can also deliver and pick-up at your preference. Should you opt to order delivery, our staff will also meet any delivery at the gate for prompt delivery to you. You were given access to Thaddeus’ suite and as of our last catalog, that would include his personal gym equipment, an integrated Microsoft gaming system including VR capability, pool table, and a small art installment for ceramics and painting. We do not have an on-site kiln, so should you choose to use the clay turner, we would need to arrange a pick-up for firing. You are free to use any of the above-mentioned amenities to your leisure,” the hostess said, informing Noah of the full catalog of what options would be available to him at the time, including what Gauss had given them special access to. Her responses were organic instead of recorded–had she a proper body, she might pass a Turing test.

A VR? Despite how much he liked playing his console and computer games sitting comfortably in his chair staring at his screen, he really hadn’t had much to do with VR. Mainly because Sara would always tease him about forgetting what reality was and would promptly drag him outside for an adventure. Which he didn’t mind, but now it was like going to a friend’s house and playing a game he’d always wanted to play but could never have. He gave an impressed nod at the hologram. There was a lot of information, but now that he knew there were staff here, he felt a bit more comfortable. It was basically a much personalized hotel of sorts. Or that’s what he thought of it, at least. He hadn’t heard the word condominium in a long time and never really lived in one or seen one. “Thanks.” He simply said before taking the main hall. While he would look through the first floor, there didn’t seem to be much besides what one would consider the lobby. Besides, they had to get to Gauss’ suite and that VR system was calling out to Noah. ”I dunno about ya, but I’m headin’ up to that suite of his. That VR system sounds fun.” He called out to Prudence, stretching his arms above his head as he made his way to the elevator.
Fuck walking, he’d rather take the time to use the leisure way up.

Prudence memorized the hostess's introduction of Thaddeus’ building out of habit, though she doubted all that information would be useful later. Noah seemed to be interested in their Meister’s gaming system. This brought some hesitation to the girl. It was an understatement to say that she had little experience when it comes to video games. She didn’t even have a TV in her apartment. She tended to just zone out when watching moving pictures, only words could capture her attention well enough. But, she reasoned, if it was Virtual Reality then it shouldn’t be much different from a training simulation. She just had to push buttons at random, or something.

“Sure, I’m interested too.” She followed Noah to the elevator and got inside. “Let’s see if we can play it together.”

The elevator itself was simplistic. Elegant, still, with its brushed aluminum and honey oak accents, but far less ornate than one might have expected from luxury. However, the facility itself didn’t exude over-indulgence. It was modern. Sleek. In some cases, even very minimalistic. Where there was wood, it was an evenly-stained light color tastefully splashed in as an accent. Most other places were a fine, black carpeting with a sheen that nearly appeared as velure. It was consistent, of all things.

No elevator music played. But then, why would it? The trip to the top was quite short. Getting there merely required asking, and not even a specific requisition at that.

The top floor was little different than the others. Off-white walls leading in one of two directions down a fairly wide-berthed hall. Same carpet. Same brushed metallic accents. At the end of one hall was marked with a large aluminum I with what appeared to be a mail slot over a thumbprint lockbox. This room was marked “reserved”. Down the other, the same type of mark except a II on it, same lockbox, but a metallic plate reading “Thales Suite”--denoting Gauss’ room.

He never mentioned he wasn’t the “first” room, but he also didn’t mention he wasn’t. There was a reason for this. Not his mentioning of it; he didn’t care which suite he had. Moreover, the first suite was reserved for VIP guests or Viraj himself if he ever felt like visiting. That was an explanation for another time.

Getting to his room was simple enough. Follow the hallway, make a turn, and there was a large door. Black. Ebony with brushed aluminum accents again. No significant markers outside of an obviously placed camera that appeared in the place of an eyehole and the thumbprint scanner above the door handle, a lever as opposed to a knob. The entire structure was heavy duty, though. Thick frame. Massive door. Embedded in metal which itself was recessed into the wall.

Entering was also a simple task. Thumbprint on the scanner, two loud thuds, and the door was available to open. Before that, it would have felt rock solid. No jiggle like with some handles, just absolutely no movement. Now, however, it would glide open for them, although admittedly heavy. The door was easily two inches thick of a solid, dense wood stained jet black with little grain apparent.

Then opened up to the wonderland of Gauss’ suite. A place few had been, even his previous partners and paramours.

Spoiler: Interior Description

The inside was drastically different in aesthetic than the rest of the building. The first room upon entering was a fairly spacious foyer with a step up. It was similar to the traditional Japanese entryways where shoes could be taken off. Upon stepping forward, even, small compartments would extend that were clearly intended to house shoes. The floor they stepped on in the first few steps was the same black carpet, but beyond that was a darker hardwood flooring. A relatively bright red cherry with a semi-gloss seal finish. The rest of the foyer had a completely open entrance to the rest of his suite with a large open closet to hang items in. It was well-thought out, at the least.
From what could be immediately seen from the foyer was a sight into his kitchen. The rest was an open space. The cherry floor transitioned into a pristine white tile. Marking the transition was a large wooden island with a bar-style countertop and three upholstered seats, all a step below the kitchen itself where the white tile began. If examined, his kitchen would have continued this pristine look with a green hued marble top accenting a gray backsplash tile on the wall, a darker set of wooden cabinets, and all stainless steel appliances scattered everywhere. Fridge, stove, air fryer, coffee maker–it all matched. All uniform.

Entering further showed the open space in front of the kitchen separated out two larger areas. One was a large living-room type of area with plush furniture. A large couch, loveseat, two chairs. Gauss clearly wasn’t the L-shaped couch to replace the furniture style of guy. It was all aimed at a large 80-inch TV mounted to the wall above an equally large cedar entertainment system. While not obvious, that entire room had a 7.1 surround sound system placed in it. The TV itself showed no wires, but a center table had all standard household items including the remotes, gaming controllers, VR headset, all around an odd metallic center point with what appeared to be a crystallin hexagon.

Every accent in his home was either the cherry or cedar, stained light to dark red to continue the theme. This was intentional. The red made that space seem more closed in, making what was there seem to take up more space.

On the other side displayed a larger, more well lit area. This was where the balcony allowed in light. There was a piano, what seemed to be a large weight machine, an open spot with a mat, and the aforementioned pool table. And, of course, the large glass black backwall with wooden shades along automatic railing to block it, if needed. Gauss apparently liked his natural lighting. Beyond the glass was another sliding door to the actual overhang of the balcony.

His suite had 3 total bathrooms, two accessible from this center point. The last was the master bath near his. A small hall down the way from the kitchen and living room had two wooden doors. Bedrooms of some kind. The first bathroom was located just before the step into the kitchen from the balcony area. The second was actually tucked away on the wall facing the entry near the living area. And, lastly, another small hallway tucked away opposite the other bathroom to another bedroom of some kind. This area could have had far more bedrooms and fit far more in it, but it was fairly apparent Gauss liked his open spaces, open lighting, and open floor plan. It was all tasteful, but hardly private aside from the bedroom doors.

Noah was simply in awe. From the elevator to the big door to the room once he unlocked the door with his fingerprint, he was greeted with simple, modern luxury. He’d have expected as much. At least Gauss had good taste. There was even a genkan, which suddenly hit Noah with a sense of homesickness. Not even his apartment he shared with Sara had a genkan. The few years he had in his own home was met with the feeling of his mother scowling at him if he ever stepped onto the rest of the house with his shoes still on and he smiled dimly at the memory. Taking off his shoes so that he was in his black socks, he took his shoes and put them in the small compartments he knew were for shoes, as his own home had something similar. After peering into the kitchen and going to the living room, he felt a twinge of pain hit his heart. Thankfully, the rest of the suite didn’t remind him of the mansion his family lived in, but what did hit him was the piano.

His mother always played the piano, and his father would try but ended up banging the keys worse than a baby. He can just hear it now, the notes that grew and dipped in volume, the bass line that gave the treble’s trills and melodic notes a backbone. Noah had a hand at playing the piano, though it’s been years. Now, his hands fit a controller and a keyboard better than a piano. He wasn’t even sure if his pinkie finger could hit the faraway keys anymore like it could. He wasn’t better at it for sure, he’d sometimes hit the wrong note here or there, or just completely forgo a note if he ended up not hitting it in time. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to touch the piano.

Yet, he found himself walking towards it, entering the threshold of the brightly lit room, the balcony overseeing the rest of the residential community that, as he looked over at it, looked like a confusing maze. How did anyone find their houses if the houses didn’t look like a surreal artist made them?

He saw the workout equipment and the pool table, finding the items oddly placed but maybe this was the only place he could find a spot to put them. Either way, he sat at the piano bench, completely forgetting about the VR system he had wanted to play on. Opening access to the piano keys, he smoothed his fingers over the white, smooth keys, nostalgia hitting him. He found himself back in his own home, younger, wearing his Sunday’s best as his mother sat beside him.

His fingers began playing the same song she played. It was by a pianist in Japan, who she heard and loved his music. He can still hear all the songs she’d play on repeat flowing through the house, never letting the silence rest for long as if keeping away the oppression of the nothingness. As if possessed, his fingers picked up their pace, the training he cultivated long ago coming back as muscle memory hit him. He did hit a few wrong notes here and there, but he was so lost in his memory that he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to.

Maybe he was chasing the lost memory of his family and remembering them through music, maybe they would come back and be here with him. But no, that’s not what’s going to happen. The music piece he was playing went from major scale to minor as he made it more melancholy, mocking the happiness he once had and shown in his piece. The piece ended sooner than expected as he ended it abruptly, his fingers hovering over the keys as if he just pulled himself out of a trance. He blinked a few times and dryly chuckled, shaking his head and putting his hands on his lap, sighing. “Ah… Sorry ‘bout that. Dunno what came over me.” He lied, but he didn’t feel like talking about it. It was no one’s business.

Prudence heard but wasn’t really listening to the music. She had been staring out the glass wall all the while, in what seemed like mute melancholy. In truth, she hated the fact that there was the sound of emotions in his music. Something akin to magic to her tone-deaf self. And this loud, intruding expression seemed to her a violation of privacy and an unnecessarily brutal knock on the invisible wall she had raised between the two. That was annoying. But it wasn’t like she could rebuke him for it.

Her gaze remained fixed on the world outside the condo even when Noah’s music had stopped playing. Something inside warned her against looking at his face right now, as if there could be something potentially harmful there.

“It’s fine. You know, I always think being able to play the piano is a special talent. Nothing wrong with doing what you have the privilege to do.” She turned slightly from the glass, but evidently still avoided looking directly at him. “You’re done, though?”

Noah looked up at her, seeing she was too busy looking out at the sight over the balcony. “Uh, yeah.” Noah’s voice was thick before he cleared his throat. “Playin’ the piano isn’t really a special talent of mine. Pretty sure I missed a key or hit the wrong ones, but it’s all muscle memory. But uh, yeah, I’m done.” Hastily getting up and closing the piano softly, he vacated the well-lit room and made his way to the living room, looking over the center table that held his items. Picking up the VR headset, he picked up the remotes for it and put the headset on, then pressing a button to turn it on.

Merciless Medic @Mqueserasera

[/border]

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thaddeus Thales​

"Gauss"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, DWMA Hospital
Mission Free time
Status Reflecting

​

Mentions: None

A fair amount of time had passed. Enough time for Gauss to sit and reflect upon the day. The whirring of the metallic arms above him distracted him little from his thought, although the brief glimmering of the sun outside hitting the polished steel of the machine did give his eyes at least something to catch.

He didn't play on his phone, at least not once he was done creating profiles for his new partners. He didn't contact anyone, either. He sat there. Thinking.

At first, about the frustrations of the day. The assignment given to him by his mentors, how he felt it was so contrary to his therapy. As the pain in his arm dissipated and his focus became clearer and clearer, his perspective shifted from even these thoughts. At the end of the day, it was just an assignment. Gauss was not so small that he would allow one petty assignment like this to get him off track. He was in the program for a reason. He had real problems to work on. He had invested too much time in bettering himself to allow it to get him off track. He minimized the assignment, relegating it to a point of unimportance, and that was how he coped. Perhaps not the most healthy, but it at least let his mind wander.

With his mind now clearer, and treatment slowly but surely coming to an end, he had time to think about the events that unfolded in a chronological order. He looked for his faults. He looked for what he had done wrong. While his mind did consider the gun weapon he first had, the Madness outburst that came after was hardly his fault. He could rationalize that. But, he came to the realization there were things he could not just rationalize away.

He was quick to lash out at his mentors for their superficial assignment, but looking back, he saw that the first thing he even did was superficial. The first person he greeted. He did so solely because she was his 'type' without knowing anything else about her. This was a fault of his. This should not have been where his mind went first. This should not have been the instinct he went to when he was surrounded by a sea of unknowns in a program completely unfamiliar to him. He fixated on this thought, his failure, his weakness, seeing as how it tumbled into yet another one of his destructive interactions. He picked a completely unnecessary fight with Zosar solely for the sake of this woman he hardly knew; for the sake of someone now not even present.

This was his sin.

In that reflection, his mind still wandered. He didn't know her. Not really. If anything, Zosar knew her better. How, he thought, could he speak out against the superficial and ignorant if he himself was so? She deserved better. Every partner he had before her deserved better, too. While guilt was an unnatural feeling for him, he pushed himself to feel it because he needed to. Even if it was slightly artificial, guilt is what he felt he ought to have felt as he processed his actions earlier. Perhaps, in a way, the weapon that backfired in his hand was some type of cosmic karma. Symbolic, even.

These thoughts continued on into his mind until he decided to actually do something. A few swipes on the phone he had sat down earlier, and he was content with what he wanted to do. Otherwise, he just let the thoughts continued in his mind. People deserved better than what he gave them. They always had. No amount of money or shallow, flattering words made up for what he deprived them of, but he wanted to change that about himself.

The treatment concluded. The nurse promptly entered and informed him he was free to leave. His bright eyes darted over to her, changing the subject entirely from himself. He asked about another patient. Releasing information was illegal, but he didn't specifically want to know anything about their condition. Just where they were. That much, he did attain through his charm. The ICU.

Gauss left his room and was met by a currier in the lobby. He had waited patiently. Patience, another virtue hardly his own, but one he was working on. Another fault he had to overcome. In that same lobby, wrote out what he needed, and pieced together everything he had intended. It was time.

He headed to the elevator with a singular destination: the ICU.

Upon arrival, he met up at the nurse's desk and asked for a single name. The only patient he had any intention on visiting: Athena Kinsley. It was another endeavor that required his charm and his last name to work around, but he was at least given the right direction. There something he needed to make right... or at least try to.

421 was her room number. His hand reached for the steel handle, but for a few moments, he couldn't even bring himself to open it. Guilt was not something he dealt with well, and considering he was almost forcing it to permeate his mind as if a masochist for mental anguish, he hardly knew how to handle this situation. He didn't even know if she was awake. He didn't ask. He couldn't bring himself to, not while juggling his silver tongue and newfound weight in responsibility.

He didn't feel responsible for her being here, but he felt terrible for leaving the impression of himself in the brief time he had knowing her. He felt guilt over now wielding the weapon that hurt her. He didn't know if this was sympathy or if this was what it meant to give a damn about anything other than yourself in general, but he knew it wasn't easy for him.

So no, he couldn't bring himself to turn that handle. He knocked. No answer. Tried again, still no answer. He would get no reprieve. This was a decision he had to make.

His hand still hesitated, but eventually he brought himself to do it. The door opened slowly without any more effort from him.

There she was. Absolutely nothing like he remembered. The same sun from earlier that glinted off the machine, providing him some distraction, illuminated the room. Illuminated her. Where it hit, her golden hair glowed with a brilliant sheen, shifting between light amber and brilliant yellow hues. While still, he could hardly believe it was the same hair that caught his eye just a few hours prior. That same warm, radiant light shone in to blanket the rest of her still body. Her still face.

Eyes closed hardly did her justice, but nothing about this scene did her justice. She was fiery before. Strong-willed. Driven. The girl in this bed, as graceful and serene as she seemed now, could not be the same one he saw earlier. Not because of the IV's in her or the machines reading her vitals, but because he could not sense either with his eyes or perception that flame inside her. It was the only thing he truly knew of her, and now it was but a dim light drowned out by the sun. He couldn't bare it.

He stepped forward only enough to use his wavelength to move the metal rings of the curtain, blocking the sun and preventing it from raining down on her. Still, no response from her. The golden rays that illuminated the room earlier had been quelled. He wasn't sure if she was even in a place where she could appreciate the dimming of the room for her rest, but he didn't care. Whether it was his guilt or something else, something in him urged to do what little he could.

Then he realized... he was in the room. He didn't even know if he could enter. He was but a few steps in, but the weight of realizing where he was felt like sandbags pressing his body into the floor with a weight that made him falter. He stepped back, feeling out of place. He didn't feel like he deserved to be here. He didn't know her and he couldn't get to. He wouldn't get that opportunity. He couldn't make up for anything he did. He would have no catharsis from this.

He turned around to a drawer beside a sink. Small, probably meant to house her belongings. Whatever it was for, really, it was the closest thing to him and didn't require him enter any further. From the brown paper bags he had in his hand, he pulled out the only few items he actually had. A single glass bottle that he could fill with water from the sink. From a bouquet of flowers he had, he selected the only one he wanted. A large, Asiatic lily with white-tips and a red center. He slid it into the bottle, then sat it on the desk. Simple. Pretty. Not too much, but enough. Not romantic, but careful. More thought than he had probably put into most gifts of his life.

Then came the actual item of importance. A single, sealed envelope in off-white parchment with a letter he had written in the lobby. Signed with his name on the front, and his stage name if she had forgotten. He stared at it for a while. If he left without it, whatever that flower meant would remain anonymous. He could walk away from this and only he would ever know. A part of him wanted that more than anything. The largest part of him just wanted this to be over. In his life, he never knew such small things could be so difficult.

He sighed, the only sound he had made in the room since he entered. He slid the envelope under the bottle, then hung around at the doorway. He felt defeated. He had no closure. He couldn't help. Not his money, not his presence, not his words, not his power. There was nothing he could do here, and that left him more drained than the rejection Cyrus put him through ever could.

He looked back at her one more time. The room was darker now. Her hair didn't glimmer in the sun, but he felt somehow she may be resting better. Felt or hoped, it was hard for him to know and he didn't dwell.

"I'm sorry, Athena... you deserved better," he said. His voice weak, his tone trembling. Apologizing was always hard for him, but knowing she likely couldn't hear it and that it may have meant nothing anyway... it made it harder. The hardest, though, was that he meant it.

He left, shutting the door behind him. Outside in the hall, outside of that room, he felt like he could breath again. Every second in there powerless felt like a second in the deepest trench of the earth with an unexplainable pressure bearing down on him and a world of alien, unrecognizable feelings. It was not an experience he wished to do again.

It took a few moments, but he composed himself. Not entirely, but enough to check his phone and check the inquiry he made earlier. He wanted to know just where Kasper was. He wanted to make sure he was okay, too. He expected that to be far harder. However, he at least knew where Kasper was being held. Whether or not he could weasel his way in there was an entirely different topic.

Before he left, he reached the nurse's station again. He asked, this time, if Athena would be okay; explained to them she didn't respond. A kinder, older nurse looked both ways before she nodded. Explained to him those collars were nasty business. They had both a long and short acting sedative. She was already safe from the short-acting because of the prompt response from the on site medics, but it would be a few days at minimum before her body would get rid of the longer-acting one. Apparently, she was to be transferred to the PCU soon. The danger was over. She would be fine. No permanent damage, they expected. Just a long... long nap.

This was the only relief Gauss felt during the last half-hour. He never did get to make things right... but at least she would be okay. His feelings, he thought, came second to her safety, and that's how it ought to be.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias & Azariah Vasher​

Location: Library
Interactions: Chanterelle ( Meredith ), Zari ( Prizzy Kriyze ), Adrian ( Sir Les Paul ), Jarvis ( QuirkyAngel )
Mentions: Ryan Reynolds, I mean Quantum Wavelength Guy
Little collab with Prizzy

Raphael Valerias had a skip to his step today, the chains on his asymmetrical skirt clanging lightly from the exuberant movement. It was a glorious day. A couple days ago, he made his first friend, and he found himself feeling lighter because of it. Even his therapist, who he talked to yesterday, smiled for once and congratulated him on taking the first steps at getting better before the program even started. Taking trips to the DWMA, especially the library, didn’t hurt so much anymore. The constant reminders of whoever would go there had seemingly seeped away from the core of his mind, only lightly brushing the edges of his memory whenever he found a not-so pleasant memory lane.

No, now that he was feeling like he was integrating well pre-F.A.T.E. summons and within the academy he had the near breakdown three years ago, he could finally relax a little. Feel at home, despite always feeling out of place. He thought he’d never reach the penultimate of comfortability, even when he did make it as a hero. But little trophies. Baby steps, his therapist said. If he wanted to be a functioning member of society and a good role model for those to look up to him as a hero, he can’t be doing anything stupid. As he walked into DWMA and took the path to the library, satchel slung over his shoulder and wearing his usual attire, he thought about that Toadstool Witch. She was rather sweet and they both had quite a heart-to-heart last time he spoke with her, and he figured she’d be in the library like last time.

As he passed the threshold, passing the five-man group who left, he noticed there were a few new faces. Someone in a blue jacket went to hide behind some bookshelves, and there was someone with slightly bent glasses and another with bright hair looking for books. That was when he spied two collars on the one with blonde hair and glasses. One of those kinda looked similar to his own, which made him tug at his Madness collar a little. Was he also suffering from Madness? Were they F.A.T.E. agents, too? Who was that boy next to him?

Thinking them rather cute, he was about to approach them when he saw the blonde kid asking if the mushrooms, quarantined in their little corner, were supposed to be there. Ah, yes. In a prior moment, Raphael too thought it was vandalism at first, but he grew to see it was just a resting spot for her magic. Then the blue jacket "kid" from earlier came by with a book for the bright haired chap and apparently didn't know the blonde kid wore glasses. They seemed awkward with each other, as if they just met. Did this guy have two weapons or just one and a friend? Still, feeling like he had to at least stand up for his new friend and ignoring that man who swiftly told them to be silent, he briskly stood between the mushroom hideout and the two questioning its existence plus their friend.

With a flourish of his arm as he bowed, he regarded the three with an easy, yet mischievous grin as he spoke in his British accent, interrupting their conversation. “Ah, so what if it’s here, my fellow chaps? The name’s Raphael, a Sorcerer.” As if reminding himself he was also an agent, he rubbed the Magic Disruptor on his wrist as the infernal device made his wrist ache. “If you think this is vandalism, then you are sorely mistaken. This-” He gestured towards the mushroom hideout as he leaned away to give them a better view now that he was standing directly between them. “This is art, a passion project of a dear mage hard at work. This is progress to something good. Vandalism holds no value besides mindless destruction and temporary stress relief.” As if to demonstrate, he pulled out his F.A.T.E. issued, 10-inch knife from its sheath strapped to his left thigh. Next to him was an empty desk with some books stacked to the side. “This, gentlemen, is vandalism.” Holding the knife backwards, he made a swift movement to stab at the desk, ignoring any protests made by anyone.

With a disbelieving glare, Zari inspected the tall, lanky fellow as he stated his case. He was about to interject with an unwittingly rude comment about his strange eye, but before he had the chance to, he noticed the man’s unprompted aggression towards the library table. As the blade left Raph’s sheath, Zari took a quick step in behind the much taller man. The striking arm rose to jab at the table when Zari’s arm entered in under it, just at the armpit. He reached around, across the man’s pec and behind his neck, locked his left arm in the upwards position before he swiftly gave him a kick to the back of his left knee, forcing him to kneel down to his level.

“Please refrain from destruction of property.” His voice was low, and his cadence was paced and composed unlike any other time he spoke. With his free arm, he grabbed the guard of the knife and pressed it against Raph’s thumb to loosen his grip and disarm him before letting him go and taking a step back.

When Raph was in an arm lock, his first thought was: How did he get behind me so quickly? Was this the raw prowess of a Meister? and his next was Why does it feel like my soul is being burned and sucked out? The next thoughts were completely jumbled as he was in a slightly constricted, uncomfortable position, his prideful monster within his chest bubbling with irritation as he was forced on one knee and held in such a vulnerable manner. He groaned from the feel of this man’s wavelength burning and eating at him, wondering exactly how dangerous he was if he’s in F.A.T.E.. He had tried holding onto his knife, but even Zari disarmed him thoroughly, wincing at the pain in his thumb. He stumbled forward before he stood up, wiping down his jacket as if he accumulated anything from the action and acting as if the Soulfire Wavelength didn’t just cripple his ability to breathe. Though, he did cough and grunt a few times, clearly worse for wear because of it.

The tone Zari spoke in was a familiar sound to hear. His old mates would sometimes speak like that and Raphael took it seriously enough not to get hit twice. He turned to face Zari with a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes as he was slightly irritated, his tone slightly hoarse. “Well, it seems like you are the protector of the library’s furniture. I’ll make due note of that. Though, I would like to have my knife back. Promise - cross my heart and hope to die - I won’t destroy anything. Wouldn’t want you stealing my knife anyhow as punishment.” His grin stretched wider, his finger crossing an ‘x’ over his heart before he held out his hand for his knife. Despite the Cheshire grin, he held sincerity over his tone.

“Don’t want it.” Zari succinctly retorted, and threw the knife sideways in an arc towards his hand, Raph catching it and sheathing it. Then, in a usual display of him not knowing how to speak to people, he added “I don’t think I could stop you without hurting you from farther away.” before falling into silence. His mouth was still open like he was about to speak, and it didn’t take many seconds before he continued again. “... what’s wrong with your face?”

 

[Meredith]

Chanterelle Fuir

In the Library, interactions/mentions Merciless Medic [Raphael] Prizzy Kriyze [Azariah] QuirkyAngel [Jarvis] Sir Les Paul [Adrian] ​

​

Chanterelle should have paid more attention to the trio entering the library. She heard a comment from one of them as she worked, but she didn’t pay it much mind; many others had questioned whether she was allowed to be gardening (including a brownnose who had originally brought it to the librarians’ attention) but after she had approval she had either ignored those comments or told them to ask the librarian if they had any questions about what she was and wasn’t allowed to be doing. Following up on comments made about her that other people probably would not hear was inane. It wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know; most people, she thought, engaged in gossip.

Seeing as it wasn’t directed at her, she felt no need to approach the remaining pair, and even less need to explain herself. But Raphael’s bright red hair caught her gaze after the middling-tall (or at least taller than her) blue-toned fellow joined the group again. He spoke to the other kid with bright blue hair as Raphael came forward. She put her small trowel down, watching the scene with interest.

The act of defending against accusations that held no real weight was, really, a madman’s errand. She appreciated the positive discussion of her magic-
Why was he wrecking shit?

Or not wrecking shit. She watched in half-fascination, half-horror as the blonde boy grabbed Raphael, preventing him from moving and forcing him to his knees. She heard a snap, and her heart skipped a beat, but no scream came from Raphael. No pop, no whoosh of blood. No broken kneecaps. The boy sounded like the tool in her phone that would read out the text on it if she asked, but she couldn’t quite hear what he had said. She frowned, and pushed herself to her feet, craning her neck to try to see.

The knife was in the blonde boy's grasp. He let go, and Raphael stumbled forward, seemingly worse for wear but overtly unharmed. Chanterelle’s feet hit the tile floor. She approached the group as Raphael mouthed off (why?), but Azariah threw his knife back, and they stood in opposition to each other. The comment about Raph’s face wasn’t great, but neither was the vandalism, but then again neither was the physical altercation that really seemed to have grabbed much of the surrounding student crowd’s attention. She had to do something to de-escalate. They didn’t need to be kicked out of the library.
She broke into the group with a grimace on her face.

“Uh, hi. I’m Chanterelle. I heard you, but I was not going to address your accusation, unless it was addressed to me. My friend here beat me to the punch. Gardening in the library? Totally allowed. I asked before I even started. No need to argue about it.” She pointed at the blonde one with the glasses reproachfully. “Do not touch me.”

The truth was, she hadn’t asked permission at first, but she’d certainly sought forgiveness (and smoothed the way to continue working as she was with the assurance that she could revert the library to its former state with the removal of the fungi when she was finished). These were the little white lies that you told to make peace when people has obvious reservations; although vandalism did not violate her morality in any way, the blonde boy clearly cared about it. Cared about it enough to lightly assault another student in the library. The witch appraised the trio in front of her. Her pointing dissolved into a flat hand, and her chin tipped up slightly as she leaned forward, comparing the collars on Raphael and the blonde kid until she was sure they were the same (or similar, at least).

“Oh. You’re a FATE student, too. No wonder you have no tact.”
Her gaze flickered from Raphael to the blonde boy. “None of us really seem to.” A teasing sort of smile crept across her face. She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand, chest shaking softly with laughter. Now that she was close (and nobody was seriously hurt) the situation was funnier than anything. They were fighting over a fucking table. Over something she shouldn’t have even heard.
“Myself included.”

Do Not Touch!

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | DWMA | Lot C

The irritation in Midori's voice had at first been surprising, but the more he listened instead of dismissing, the more he got the point of what his friend was actually trying to say.

He looked at Adra, then glanced at Emira, and then returned his attention back to Midori as he continued. The knowledge that Adra was further along in Calm Mind training, had actually been something he was going to ask her about. To him, in his mind, given his training, his life, he had believed it would be simple. Easier to complete such training than most of the others here. Some part of him had believed, he'd excel in it. Midori, bless and curse him, seemed to have read his mind. He knew, somehow that he would've aske her,, and that one line: She was a person, not a stepping stone towards another goal- was something that actually made his initially neutral reaction, twist into a frown.

The way the Autonomous Weapon had said all of that, really made him seem a bit insensitive. Which, he supposed he could be if in the wrong crowd- but then again, something was wrong with almost everyone here, save for the redeemed supervisors or volunteers overseeing them. He glanced at Adra in general to gauge her own reaction to what Midori was saying, but she seemed to have mostly zoned off with her lack of response in general. Yet with his mismatched eyes so used to using Soul Perception, it was not hard to see the inkling signs of discomfort even if she remained receptive to what Midori had been saying overall.

Nodding as Midori departed, he put him and Emira out of mind.

If he was going to be dedicated to Adra, Midori was right- he had to avoid putting his mind too much on everyone around him, and focus more on the one that deserved it. Left alone with Adra, he waited to see if she would say something. Anything to strike up conversation.

It was expected that she didn't or rather wouldn't. So he took that moment to study her.

The keen sense of discomfort he could see in her soul was not unnoticeable. Soul Perception had become second nature to his eyes, reading people was easy when you knew what to look for, reading the literal emotions took practice. He'd had years of it, so picking up on the details of what Adra was feeling, would make it easier to figure out just what to say- or at least how to go about proving he was serious with her, them, this partnership, and improving it.

All he saw was impatience, annoyance, boredom- in some ways these feelings reminded him of some of his other brief partners, but that had been when he had been the stabilizer for them. And those partnerships had all been brief. This one, wasn't. At least, he was going to work towards making sure it wasn't.

"You don't trust this will work out." He said at last, breaking the awkward sense of silence that had settled in between. "I could tell the moment I held you, and I'm sure you know it just as well as I that out on the field, the way we are, we'd be more of a weight to the team than a boon. Neither of us had much faith any of this would work out- I'm sure a lot of us in the program feel the same, and I have an inkling of an understanding as to why you feel that way in this also." A subtle hint that he knew something about her past partner, whether she caught on to that or not was for him to see in her reaction. "C'mon," he nodded at her as he took a few steps past her, waited on one path out of Lot A, mismatched eyes on her, "let's find something interesting to do. What do you do for fun? Or what's the last fun thing you actually enjoyed doing while prepping to enter this program?" He asked with a raised yet curious brow.

"Being on lockdown really puts a damper on the kind of freedom you have, so I'm open to almost anything. Last fun I had, involved vandalizing property and that was a bit after I got out of lockdown." He was being honest in that last one. "So anything you have in mind- shoot Razor." Hand on hip. "I can tell you're bored, so let's go do something that will actually be fun for the two of us." and he grinned at that last line, because honestly- how much trouble could they actually get into?

Mentions: Kyuubey Sir Les Paul

Interactions: Sybil

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Daniella Ethalyn Apartments​

As time passed, Dani’s consciousness would stir. The blackness dissipated as her eyes fluttered open with a grumble. She stirred, and as she shifted the pain from before she blacked out came flooding back. She cringed instinctively as a hand ran to her head and turned to search her surroundings. However, as she turned, her vision focused on the dead-eyed look of a half-assembled doll not that far from her face.

Dani reacted accordingly.

“AAAAAA–WHAT THE FUUUCK!” She screamed in an unusually high pitch, recoiling from the proximity of the doll. Unfortunately, she recoiled so far back that she tumbled off the side of the bed, blanket tangled around her. “Fuck. Fuuuck. What the FUCK!”

Turning her head from what she was doing, Maria pauses a bit, no longer eating her chips as she looks over at the other. “It’s okay if you scream, no one can hear you down here.” The doll looking woman says, a fixed expression on her face. Getting up from her chair she walks over and crouches down to meet with Dani’s gaze. “You hurt yourself and smell a bit of alcohol, do you feel alright?”

Hearing the voice, a shudder ran up her spine. No one could hear her scream? Where the hell was she?! Who was this chick!?

As the girl approached, Dani’s fear subsided slightly and her fight response kicked in. Whoever this bitch was, Dani wasn’t a weakling. She didn’t need a meister to fight. A blade shot out from the top of her wrist as she held it up in front of her in defense. “You can’t fuckin’ hurt me! I’m a Demon Wea–Huh?”

Did she feel alright? Why was her kidnapper asking how she felt?

“Uh… no…? My head feels like someone hit me with a bat…”

As Dani did this, wires shot from the girl’s hand and the doll behind her moved, grabbing the blade. “Easy… Ah.. I made a mistake again, huh?”

“Hmm..” Pondering where to start, the woman moves her doll back and stares at the other for a bit. “I warned you earlier you would get hurt and while I was moving some crates you bashed your head into them.. Ah, yes you are still in the Apartment, just my room, I didn’t want to leave you there and I didn’t want to drag you upstairs to see who you were. People are bothersome.”

With this her facial features remain fixed as she stands up and starts to move a bit. Her movements were somewhat robotic and stiff as she did what seemed to be a short part of a dance. “See no wires on me.. I’m sort of human too.”

Dani’s blade remained extended after the wires grasped it, though she heard the girl out. This was one hell of a mistake.

“You had a fucking knife when you said that; I thought you were a fucking ghost or serial killer,” Dani retorted blatantly. “Wait, so where the hell is here then?”

As far as she knew, no one was supposed to be down in the basement. At least, not where the girl emerged from. They had to be somewhere on the lower levels, given that the girl said she didn’t want to bring her upstairs. She didn’t seem to be–bad necessarily, though she was certainly odd. Dani wasn’t quite sure why she was doing some kind of robot dance.

“...Uh… what are you doing and how does that prove you’re human?”

“Hmm? Oh this?” She says taking out her carving knife. “Don’t you ever open chips with a knife? Opening them by hand gets crumbs everywhere when the bag pops. And you are in the basement silly. The Room that says Keep Out, if I didn’t have that someone may come in here and break my dolls and workshop. Or get my doll arms. So much chaos.. So much work. I rent the greater part of the bottom floor outside of the Tornado shelter.”

Thinking back to the other question she seemed a bit shocked if the widening of eyes were to account for it. “Ah. So you saw through me. I’m a Sorcerer, as human as you I guess.. And Dancing is supposed to be the most human of things isn’t it?”

Dani stared at the girl in disbelief. She wondered why anyone would use a knife to open a bag of chips. Hell, she was the knife and she never thought to do that. Just, why?!

"No??" She remarked in a tone half questioning. "...Why would someone… Nevermind…"

Deciding that argument was fruitless, Dani turned her focus to unraveling the blanket around her legs and pushing herself up.

"Is it?" Dani wondered aloud. If that was the case, she wasn't very human. "Sorcerer… then the dolls are…?"

“My beautiful children!” She says to the later part. “My Golems if you prefer. As to dancing, that is what I was told, and I do it from time to time to practice my control.”

With that she puts away the knife and waves her hand, four of the puppets coming to life, smaller ones, one with a load bearing nail draw into its face and the other three looking rather normal as far as dolls went, twirling them into loops and performing a little synchronized bow, she then moves two more to grab the blanket as she looks at the girl.

“Oh!”

How silly, she had forgotten. “I am Maria "The Marionette" Mayer.. Former One Star, current..hmm.. F.A.T.E. Agent. And please, don’t be in such a rush you seemed to have had a headache even before the boxes.. Who are you?”

Dani stared at the girl. Beautiful, huh. Including the one with the nail in its head, that was hard to agree with. She watched warily as the dolls moved and picked up the blanket, avoiding direct contact with them.

Dani brought a hand to her head again, though whether it was the headache or exasperation at yet another F.A.T.E. Agent being in the building was questionable. Just how many were in the damn apartments?

"Dani. Demon Sword. Two Star in F.A.T.E.," She replied. "Alcohol does that… and I wouldn't have been in a hurry if you didn't scare the shit out of me."

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, if I scared you.” Maria says in response. “You can turn into a sword after all, though you wouldn’t be the first person I scared. And drinking in the middle of the day?” Misunderstanding the situation, she shakes her head. “Though let me get you some water, that will help with your head.”

Dani's eyes narrowed a bit at that. A me problem, huh. She wondered if the other people the girl startled were also at fault. It couldn't be that the dolls were creepy and her phrasing questionable at best.

"Yes. It's been that kind of a day," Dani retorted. Obviously the girl's F.A.T.E. group wasn't as much of a shitshow as hers was. Though, the effects of the drug were also pleasant. It was a--break from her normal, more pessimistic thoughts, one that she usually only achieved by focusing her attention intently on something else. "I don't need you looking down on me regarding when I do or don't drink."

“Hmm, I can’t say what sort of day it has been, I’ve been here all day, my group has yet to be summoned.” She says, having guessed the others thoughts or affirming her own story. Today was introductions and inductions after all so it was a good chance. “Looking down on you? But I’m mostly at your eye level. And that's so? Reminds me of someone else. Still, let me get you some water at least.”

"Lucky you," Dani chimed in a grumble. If only she were so lucky. Yet here she was, semi kidnapped in a basement by a girl that didn't understand expressions. "Thinking poorly of me…" Dani growled a correction in a bit in irritation. "What, the bad day or the booze?"

“The Alcohol yes.. There is another woman that lives in this building that I know somewhat, I make furniture items for her from time to time, but she also drinks in the middle of the day. And I am not sure how I should be thinking of you.” The woman says in short reply.

“I wonder who…” It was clear by Dani’s narrowed gaze and tone that she had an idea of who. A certain Russian with a stash of vodka in her room. “It’s an expression… have you not heard of expressions?”

“Oh, well I can tell you if you really want to know. And.. Hmm.. Expressions such as smiling or being sad? Or do you mean something more social? Either way I cannot say I know much of either. That is part of why I am here.” At least Maria was candid if anything.

“Tell me or don’t, I don’t really care… and no, the verbal kind,” Dani replied. She was a Type A, then? Was her being awkward and monotonous really cause to be put in this program with the freaks like Dani? That was a bit harsh. “How do you not know figures of speech?”

“But you asked, isn’t asking a sign of caring, are you lying to yourself?” Looking at her and then her creations, she smiles, something that seemed automatic yet happy. “I can carve any feeling I want on them, They each have names and each is special.. As to figures of speech.. I.. Find socializing with others to be difficult. Working in my workshop when something bothers you, is what my Mo..no, not mother.. My teacher said and I stuck to it. I also craft various items for others, for friends or for selling. Though there is more to it than that.”

"Then just fucking say it!" Dani said with a groan, wondering if the girl was actually this dense or just confrontational. Folding her arms, the woman's expression softened a bit. "You're socializing just fine right now… kind of."

“Hmph if you will be that rude I won’t say at all, you seem to know who it is after all. Though it is nice you say so, maybe I should make a doll or puppet of you after all.” She says in quick order, before standing up, turning her attention back towards her desk. “Yes.. That may be something to do.”

"Then don't tell me, why would I know?!" Dani questioned in exasperation. Her eyes traveled with the girl as she moved to her station, watching her with vested caution. "A doll?"

“Hmm, then I guess I should tell you, as to how you know, you likely got the drinks from her.. Or we just have another casual mid-day drinker. Nadia Semyonov.” The girl says in reply at the other’s exasperation.

“Indeed. I think one made of cloth so you can remember your visit here and maybe return again. A wooden one would take some time and I doubt you would care much for that or have a use for it like the case with most that I have met.”

“Hah…” Dani stared in a deadpan. Did everyone know the Russian here? “So… it’s not going to be like…” Glancing around, she found the creepy one with a nail embedded in its head and hesitantly raised a finger to point at it.

“Huh? What’s wrong with my doll? I’ve taken a lot of care to keep her operational.” Shrugging it off she waves her hands causing her dolls to move before collapsing where they were. “I also said I wouldn’t waste my time making you a wooden one. Weren’t you listening?” Sighing at that she ponders what to do next, it was unusual to have someone stay here so long. “You were down here for food weren’t you? You can have my sandwich if you want it. Otherwise you are free to go or to watch my work.. Now that I know you live here I could leave the doll for you..”

“The… nothing.” Dani decided that she didn’t want to take the chance of offending the girl or her dolls. Glancing toward the door, then to the girl, Dani decided to take the hint to leave. “Ah, I’ll just grab some chips from the machine and go back to sleep… thanks…”

Moving for the door, Dani half expected to be jumped by the dolls, but simply exited when none animated. Breathing a sigh of relief, she skipped the vending machine and instead headed straight for the elevator, taking it up and confining herself in her room. For now, her head was still pounding, she was still tired, and she wanted to forget being kidnapped. The pink-haired girl plopped down on her bed and was likely to avoid any basement endeavors for the near future.

“She won’t come back I bet.. Still, I’ll make something of her, maybe learn who she is.. But all is as it should be, a Workshop is one’s refuge.. I even offered her some food and she left.. Still maybe a friend? Hmm…” Pausing at that, she starts to work, cutting some cloth as she calls over one of her dolls, having it pour her a cup of tea. “That was draining... Though let us consult the archives on that one.”

 

[Merciless Medic]

Emmett & Zelda
Emmett's Home | March 7th, 2067 | Noon

“Do you think I kept it together well back there?” The question may seem redundant after so many years, but Emmett legitimately sounded as if he was mildly worried about his presentation in front of the kids.

Zelda merely gave him a pointed gaze before relaxing her stoic expression. As they were done with mentoring the kids for the day, Zelda softened up a bit. There was no work to be had, so there was no need to be curt. “I don’t think you did well. I know you did well. You even de-escalated an argument that could have gone south if I were to respond instead. My only concern was how incomprehensible you were to Miss Middleton and Miss Takada.”

Emmett smiled at her and nodded as he skipped up the few steps to his garage’s back door and began fiddling with his keychain. “Oh good, I haven’t slept in four days and my skin is starting to feel like wet cement. Didn’t want to have that leak through, heh.” He finally got the right key and popped the door open. “Remember not to use the front door! MK18 is still on a misparametered perimeter watch on my living room couch. Use the window if you get thirsty.”

At times like this, Zelda would have preferred just to have gone home. Her partner’s home, while nice, was sometimes way too disorganized and chaotic for her liking. While she’s gotten used to some of it, the thing in the living room was of another beast entirely. Why the fuck did it have a gun? As for her partner’s own health and well-being, she was quite disappointed, but far from having not expected it. She knew this was likely to happen and she was mentally kicking herself for not having caught on. “Four days? Skin feeling like wet cement?” The tone she held was of subtle concern, but mostly disappointment. “Why were you up so long? And why can’t you paralyze the-... the thing in the living room?” She was growing irate, following Emmett through the garage’s back door. “Not really helpful if it’s just going to not recognize you and shoot you.” She critiqued, already missing the fact that she can’t use that couch now.

Emmett stumbled into his workshop and immediately pulled a drawer out and emptied it onto the nearest open space. Several half finished items rolled across the table until they came to rest in awkward positions all over everything, giving Zelda a near aneurysm as she watched with eye-twitching irritation. “It’s not a question of could, it’s a question of should. Little guy looks so comfortable in there, and I’ve thrown enough gum at his sensors to block I wanna say fifty percent of his scanning range? Going to have to pay someone to fix the thirty-two caliber bullet holes in the foyer, though.” Zelda groaned, having given up on the subject of his ‘little pet’ for now. From a pocket somewhere he produced what looked like a small magitech soldering pen, and pulled in a chair to sit down and lean over his work area.

“And I’ve been UP SO LONG, because SOMEONE didn’t think to give me the STUDENT DOCUMENTATION before last FRIDAY. Whose bright i-fucking-dea was it to drop a bunch of wavelength equivalents of TOASTERS in the same student body BUBBLE BATH?” Emmett was putting emphasis in rhythm to the sparks flying off of the pen. “They need some help. I’m going to get it to them, because the actual resources we have on hand are - and pardon my language…” He stopped for a few moments and sat up straight, looking back to Zelda as if he completely lost his train of thought.

“Uh, bad, I guess.” He muttered, before turning back to the ear pieces.

Zelda had found a chair with wheels, pulling it so it was against his workbench as she leaned her elbow on the table to prop her head up with a fist, away from where he worked so no errant sparks hit her as she relaxed. Hearing him rant was the funniest thing she’d ever heard ever since she heard him that one day. Ever since, she hadn’t done anything but encourage the behavior. Limitless entertainment and it gets him to calm down quickly afterwards. Usually. Which seemed to happen now as he lost his fire.

With a sigh, she sat up straighter, making sure her eyes were not looking at the sparks so as to not damage her eyesight. “Yes, ‘bad’ is a part of the English lexicon to be pardoned.” Zelda smirked, Emmett’s joking behavior having rubbed off on her and it only seemed appropriate as he was coming off his rant. She went back to her neutral expression, a bit of disdain curling her lip. “And, yeah, that wasn’t smart of them. I had been calling them relentlessly to give us the documentation earlier, so you wouldn’t have to waste combat stims on staying up for days and to make sure we were both properly prepared. Have you considered sleeping now that all that is done?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Emmett leaned back in his chair and used the back of his hand to push a finished pair of earbuds across the table and onto a metal tray, then let out a long sigh. “It’s fine, I’ll crash early.” He mumbled, then spun his chair to look over in her direction. “So, what do you think?” His elbows were leaned on his knees, and he blinked a couple of times to stay alert. “About the students, I mean. Thaddeus, Suzu, Noah, Prudence, Sara, Nadia, Dani. Do you think we can help them?”

Zelda shot him a glare at his first response, but softened up a little when he finally conceded. Good. That way she didn’t have to feel like she was babysitting more than she already felt, especially now that they have students. Sighing, she looked off to the side to gather her thoughts. “I see potential in all of them, but what they do determines if that potential will be wasted or used to make themselves better. I’m pretty sure we can help those who are Type A’s far easier than the others. But in my experience, they are usually far easier to deal with.” She pulled out her phone from her pocket and looked over a text she had yet to send. “Of course, I know we can help all of them. It’s just a matter of how much effort we need to put into them and if any of them will listen and do as they’re told. A key factor is if they are willing to help each other out, as well. New partnerships are rocky, especially since some are unstable. Let’s just hope nobody kills anyone.” She let out her last statement with a sigh as she typed a bit in her message, fixing it up of any grammatical mistakes she may have made by accident.

Sliding the phone on the table for Emmett to read over the message, she simply asked. “Is it a go?”

The text message was to be sent to all their students, and the message read as thus:

Additional Assignment: Soul Spaces
Soul Spaces, or Soul Rooms, are reflections of who you are within the core of your soul. You normally find this place as a Weapon resonating with a Meister, if you’ve done any Sound Mind Training - or Calm Mind Training - or if you’ve done so as an extracurricular activity within your EAT classes. Some of you may already have seen your Soul Room. Either way, we would like you to enter it, so we may discuss Calm Mind Training later. It’s a personal process done with meditation in a quiet space, mind uninhibited by substances but maybe that of burning incense. Once you’ve done this, please send one of us a text message that you’ve entered your Soul Room, and we’ll discuss after everyone has done so.

“Mm, might want to add that it isn’t a requirement so much as it is recommended. It might be a fairly elementary skill among meisters with star ratings, but these students are very out of touch with themselves.” Emmett said, and leaned back from the table once more. “And you’re right. As much as I have my personal feelings of responsibility about this… what can actually be done will hinge largely off of them.”

With a semi-defeated groan he leaned even further back, until his head and limbs were dangling over the edges of the chair. “First of all we’ve got to garner some sort of trust, and going by some of their track records that’s going to be… hard…”

Zelda took her smartphone back and began making the adjustments, swapping out ‘additional assignment’ for ‘recommendation’ and adding that there isn’t much of a deadline yet, so they have until they make one to find it. She let out a scoff at the idea of any of the students trusting them. “Nadia was eyeing me earlier. I feel like she recognized me, though I don’t think I recognize her. I might get asked about that later.” She relaxed herself further and looked away from her phone, done with it as she set it aside on the table. “We’ll just have to let fate decide their paths.” Then she smirked a little at her pun before sighing. “I hate that your jokes are rubbing off on me.” She then put her hands to the sides of her face, massaging her temples before relaxing further back in the chair.

After taking a moment of reprieve, Zelda then hit send on her device. In a moment, her team’s phones should be alerted with the message. The phones won't be alerted in a group chat, as the message will be sent to each as if she directly messaged one.

Spoiler: Zelda’s Text Message

11:58 am
Recipients: Daniella Ethalyn, Nadia Semyonovna, Thaddeus Thales, Noah Wiley, Prudence Pontmercy, Takada Suzu, Sara Middleton
Subject: New Homework - No Deadline
Message:
Recommendation: Soul Spaces
Soul Spaces, or Soul Rooms, are reflections of who you are within the core of your soul. You normally find this place as a Weapon resonating with a Meister, if you’ve done any Sound Mind Training - or Calm Mind Training - or if you’ve done so as an extracurricular activity within your EAT classes. Some of you may already have seen your Soul Room. Either way, we would like you to enter it and familiarize yourself, so we may discuss Calm Mind Training on a later date. It’s a personal process done with meditation in a quiet space, mind uninhibited by substances but maybe that of burning incense. You have to be true to yourself, or else it will be considerably more difficult, if not impossible, to find it. Some of you may even be uncomfortable with your Soul Space, but you must power through. Once you’ve done this, please send one of us a text message that you’ve entered your Soul Room, and we’ll discuss after everyone has done so. There is no deadline for this as of yet, so you have enough time as you need until we make a deadline. If you have any questions or concerns, contact one of us.

When she looked back up at Emmett, she stifled a scoff-like chuckle at seeing him lean back in his chair, soundly asleep and snoring. Rolling her eyes, she pocketed her phone and stood up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hooking another under his knees to pick him up. She’d rather not have to hear him complain about his neck being sore when he woke up. Once he was in her arms, she walked towards the only door in the garage. Opening the door skillfully with her elbow, Zelda walked into the study.

The room held a desk and bookshelves lined the walls of the study. In Emmett fashion, it seemed like documents and books were spilled over the table. She felt like a maid trying to keep things organized in his house. She doesn’t even live here. That’s when she realized the study’s other door leading into the foyer had an open threshold into the living room. She hoped the wall was far enough along that she couldn’t see the thing on the couch.

With Emmett in tow (and making sure she didn’t step on any books), she carefully opened the door that led into the foyer.

He wasn’t kidding when he said there were a few more bullet holes in the walls; the floor was littered in detritus and drywall.

Peeking out, she can feel her heart hammer in her chest as she peered at the threshold leading into the living room. She can see the leg. But, it didn’t seem to notice her presence. Sighing, she very carefully moved through the door, hugging Emmett closer to her as she sidled along the wall towards the opening, as the stairs were directly between the study’s door and the living room. Emmett snored loudly and she heard a groan, as if something large moved. Her body rushing with adrenaline, she leapt towards the steps. She stopped, listened. Nothing. Sighing, she finally stepped normally and walked up the stairs. Sighing in relief, she climbed the rest of the way, went through a corridor, and found his bedroom as she passed a few guest bedrooms.

She didn’t know if he’d get the chills, the sweats, or both from the stims, as it seemed to be random. So she decided to pull back the blankets and set him on the bed, covering him with a single sheet from his blankets. Lidding her eyes as she sighed, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the floor, as if looking through to the golem that took up residence on his couch. Closing his door, she ran back downstairs and put herself against the wall, this time sidling along until she got to the living room threshold.

She knew exactly where the couch was. All she had to do was make sure she didn’t get hit.

The axeblade of her halberd form appeared on her forearm, where frost began to form on its silver and golden accented surface. Sighing and focusing on her power, she knelt down and pressed the point of her axeblade into the floor, then swiped it towards the golem. The floor became covered in thick ice as it traveled towards the golem. It groaned again and she could hear the sensors reading the room. She heard more of it moving, but she didn’t hear any thumping. Putting more power in the ice that led a path towards the golem, she could hear the ice crack and whistle at the pressure as it grew, and a chilly air flowed from the living room.

However, her achievement was nearly taken as holes were made in the wall she was hiding behind, making her body jolt and her heart hammer faster than Emmett's on LSD. Four loud bangs resounded. One of them made a hole inches from her face, another inches from her chest, and one a few inches above her back. The last shot was fired at where the glint of her axeblade can be seen from the threshold, and she hissed as the shot threw her arm to the side. Luckily, her shoulder didn’t dislocate, though her forearm stung as it felt like her axeblade was being ripped from her body. It luckily didn't bend.

Finally, she stopped hearing it move. No more shots fired.

Taking the chance, she peeked quickly over the edge and found the golem, standing and taking aim at the wall, but it was completely encased in ice, unable to move. Sighing to calm her heart, she stood up and wiped away the bits of drywall that clung to her suit as she walked through the living room into the kitchen to get a glass of water, her body lightly shaking from the adrenaline and brushing with death.

As she drank and leaned her backside against the counter’s ledge, she thought about shutting off the damn thing herself. She didn’t know where the ‘off’ switch was, if there even was one, but she'd rather not touch it in case she made it worse. Either way, she’d leave it to him. After getting a refreshing glass of water that eased her nerves, she made her way to the study again to clean up his mess he left on his desk, making sure all the pages he had opened up were bookmarked and the sheets of paper and documents were in neat, organized piles depending on subject. Documents and books about Magitech go in one pile, F.A.T.E. in another, and the other documents and books go in a few other piles.

She might as well rest now while she was at it, but like hell she was going to be caught resting on those racecar beds in the guest rooms. This was why she was irate hearing the thing took her couch. At least with it standing up, she can rest in its spot and freeze it over periodically to keep it still. She took her own perch on the couch, sitting on one end and throwing her legs over the rest of the couch. Holding her hair to the side so she didn't pull it, she laid her head on the armrest, crossed her legs, and grabbed a book from the coffee table she was reading last she came here. She found her spot and read, waiting for either sleep to lull her into a short nap or for Emmett to wake up. Her leg transformed into the pole of her weapon form and she softly tapped the ice, making the ice encase itself again as she returned her leg back to normal and crossed over her other leg.

This was going to be a long day…

Collab with Prizzy Kriyze
Mentions: Nadia, Dani, Noah, Gauss, Prudence, Suzu, Sara
Interactions: The student's phones (text message in spoiler, arguably the most important thing)
Sir Les Paul @Mqueserasera EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Jarvis Briseis - DWMA, Library

Many things happened since Jarvis gave Maiden the book ‘Your Inner Soul’. A sorcerer cut between them and the witch growing mold in the library, introduced himself, then tried to ‘vandalize’ a table. Zari stopped the sorcerer from vandalizing the table. The witch that had been growing mold in the library introduced herself. Okay…so not too many things happened, but Jarvis had always been good at summarizing and cutting out the non-important bits. During all that time, Jarvis simply let out a weary sigh and lazily watched, hands in pockets, as his current meister—who seemed to have a strong sense of justice—denied the property damage…silently prepped to assist Zari should the sorcerer named Raphael retaliate with aggression. Fortunately, he did not.

Jarvis did not like fighting. He didn’t care all that much about what Raphael broke either…so long as the thing broken wasn’t him or someone he cared about.

Should it come it, he would’ve much rather dragged Zari out of the library to avoid confrontation with another DWMA student…since a FATE agent getting involved in such a fight seemed like a one-way trip to expulsion…but only if doing so wasn’t too much of a hassle. If his partner felt that strongly about defending the library’s property, if a fight was inevitable, Jarvis would probably stick around. Probably.

At the very least to make sure harm didn’t come his current meister.

“Tact is too much of a bother,” Jarvis yawned, hand covering his mouth, as he replied to the witch named Chanterelle. “If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”

Jarvis disliked beating around the bush. The effort it took to decipher the hidden meanings behind words and white lies was tiring. Therefore, he liked dealing with honest people; Straightforward people. However, he did not like dealing with unnecessary issues…so tact had its uses…and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t appreciate the effort it took to avoid confrontation. Jarvis himself made a habit of avoiding it…though he wouldn’t say he had tact as much as he just plain didn’t want to get involved. Didn’t care to get involved. Or was that tact?

Jarvis had enough tact not to yell in the library at least.

He glanced at Zari who had continued talking, apparently not very aware of how rude/accusatory his innocent questions sounded. “But I’ll apologize for Azariah I guess. He’s not too used to interacting with others.”

Neither was Jarvis, but the bloodsucker didn’t feel the need to mention that.

If the giggling witch did get permission to grow her little mushroom habitat in the library, then they had even less reasons to interfere. Not that Jarvis thought either of them should’ve been staring in the first place—like staring at a giant for their height or a zombie for their peeling skin. It was a little rude. But, of course, Jarvis’s opinion was largely influenced by the fact that he too was one of the ‘monster’ souls. He didn’t like humans staring at him as if he was some sort of oddity either. Fortunately, Chanterelle seemed to be taking the current events quite well. Jarvis couldn’t say he was happy with all the events that transpired, but there was little point hating or making a big deal out of what had already transpired either.

Anger took too much effort—least of all over something so trivial.

Red eyes rolling to the ceiling, Jarvis wondered if ought to follow all the unasked introductions with one of his own. On one hand, social interaction was a bother. On the other hand, Zari clearly needed examples of how to better behave around others. It wasn’t the boy’s fault he lacked knowledge in that regard. However, improvement would only come from practice…as well as watching those around him interact. Besides, they seemed to be FATE agents as well. Not ones in Group A-01 though.

“…Jarvis Briseis. We came here for Calm Mind research.”

Placing a hand on Zari’s shoulder, mostly to remind the meister of where they were, Jarvis continued tiredly. “So let’s either continue with that or take the chatter elsewhere before we become a bother to other people, yeah?”

Or the librarian kicked them out. Jarvis didn't know if the current DWMA librarian was the same as the one they had when he was in school, but if it were, he shuddered to think what the old lady would do if she caught them throwing knives around her books. Frankly, it didn't really matter to the bloodsucker what they did. Study was work. Fighting was work. Socializing was work. All of it seemed to cost equal energy to Jarvis, who would rather be back in his coffin at this time of day…but he did have his preferences. Eyes flickering longingly back at the dark corner that he'd been sleeping 'Calm Mind Training' in, Jarvis let out another sigh as his gaze drifted from Chanterelle to Raphael to Maiden before landing expectantly back on Zari.

Prizzy Kriyze Sir Les Paul Meredith Merciless Medic

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice

Adrasteia was simply waiting for an appropriate way to exit stage left, her body wanting to start walking the instant Midori left. It aches for the movement, her body feeling the awkward air and hating it. She wanted to leave, and long enough of a silence would make it acceptable for her to leave.

But of course that never happened. Her silence was broken, the weapon letting the dream of quietly wandering off now perish. She had to engage the meister, and her eyes looked up from her phone to look at him.

His words were nothing new, her mind already knowing they were barely functional. It was damn near intentional. She felt the urge to tell him off right there, to tell him that she would be better off without him. That she was more efficient that way. Her nasty reactions were suppressed however, her mouth staying shut and letting Zosar continue. Unfortunately the immediate following words did little to appease her, his phrasing of ‘having an inkling’ triggering a gut reaction as if to spit up the words that he didn’t know her. No one knew her. They think they did. They barely knew anything, they couldn’t understand shit. They were just trying to feel comfortable by understanding.

Well tough shit. I’m not some puzzle for people around me to solve.

The weapon kept her mouth shut still, but her eye twitched ever-so-slightly as he continued. Thankfully the latter half of the conversation was more inquisitive, something Adra usually felt was at worst annoying. Though the nickname Razor caught her ears, making her raise an eyebrow and officially facing Zosar by looking up from her phone. She didn’t comment on it, letting her body language warn the meister that he was close to a line, saving her words to instead actually try to him answer.

“…I don’t really do any duo activities…” She rolled her eyes as she let out a sigh, thinking to herself of something to do. The ball was in court in her mind and now she needed to show effort.

“… I don’t know, if you are looking for off-the-wall stuff then you might want someone else. I haven’t had the chance to do much in the past 2 years that wasn’t strictly positive and legal. As for what I normally do, I’m not going to work out with you and I’m not taking you to my place…. So…Wanna go play some chess? Or some board game? I’m fresh out of ideas.”

coded by: @s e v e n

Interacts: The Regal Rper
Mentions: Sir Les Paul​

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Death City near Apartment​

Having some time away from Dani, Nadia decided to head out and about the old city once more, not being as drunk, or at the least not as inebriated as Dani was at the present time she felt the need to be out among the morning air, what little of it was left. Taking in a deep breath it was truly a shame the weather was no colder. While the cold brought unpleasant memories it was also a fond one and a soothing presence. A bit of give and take, bad times and good, of Siberian Winters and mild summers.. The Nevada Summer was fully the reverse, harsh and hot, oppressive and demanding.

Clenching her left fist at the reminder of her time as a refugee and of those battles and struggles among others, she found herself unsettled, wondering how her old followers were or what they were up to. No cutting ties to them was for the best, they had become seriously injured in following her, any more of ignoring those facts would have gotten worse out of them. And now she was saddled with yet others to concern herself with... But such a thing was weakness, if they could not keep up it was for the best that they fell behind.

Pulling out her phone, there was that message to respond to and then a realization hit her. "Ah, I did not get Dani's number... I must correct that when we next meet, but for now I leave her to sl--" Sneezing at that a couple of times she stops her stroll alongside some shops. "...is someone talking about me?" Letting this paranoia drift for a bit, Nadia turns her attention back to the message and a lingering thought, today had brought up too many bad things and forced her back into a position needing to do things like before... But more importantly, that woman was she an ice blood as well? She had not looked at her soul at the time, but that is not what was on her mind. Ever since she seen her, Vladivostok, while always on her mind had become less something to have survived with pride, but a reminder of having just survived. Keying in her response she decides to reply for Dani as well, given she would likely not do so on her own initiative.

Zelda was it? Semyonov.. I have seen my soul room and in talks it seems Dani has as well, neither of us can enter at will without effort or situation fitting, but we have seen our Soul Rooms and been in it. Also, I would have words with you when able, there is two things I would ask of you and one I would like to ask of your partner Emmett. These questions are in no hurry, but I would ask them in person rather than message if possible. If Dani contacts you then you have her own word, but I doubt she will do so of her own accord. That is all. Send? (Y)

Sending the message and closing the phone, she made no real note of the time, simply just going with the flow of the day. Heading back on her walk and pondering what to do next to pass the time Nadia just busies herself with her walk. For now, just enjoying the old city was good enough, if curiosity got the best of her or another, time would tell.

Interactions: Merciless Medic (Zelda)
Mentions: EmperorsChosen

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Azariah "Zari" Vasher
Though Zari's stance was open and unguarded, he was more than ready to move again if the Sorcerer was to make a move. Unlike Bloodsuckers, Azariah was more than familiar with magic users and his own resistance to their tricks. The underground was filled to the brim with Sorcerers and Witches trying to make a quick buck off of their sought-after abilities. Unfortunately for those amateurs, any seasoned killer knew better than to let them breathe for long enough to invoke the arcane, often meaning they never had a chance to plea for mercy.

Jarvis was the one who finally made him concede and relax somewhat, as he let his glasses slide down to the tip of his nose and folded his arms in response to his comment on them. They were reading glasses after all, and served no purpose currently, so with his eyes peeking over their edges he gained an artificial air of either curiosity or arrogance, depending on the beholder. Even if Jarvis wasn't the one to de-escalate, the gardener girl quickly appeared from within her vines to break the group up. Azariah blinked a couple times as he for the first time in the last half hour had to look down to meet someone's eyes. Comparably, both Jarvis and Adrian was just a little taller than him and Raphael towered over all three, while this girl was only about chest height for even Zari.

Her words were filled with some form of attitude, and Zari was visibly taken aback when she pointed to him and firmly stated that she was not to be touched. Why him? Why did she point to him? Did he come across as more likely than the tall, flamboyant sorcerer to unnecessarily put his hands on someone? "I don't want to..." His lower lip pouted somewhat at the comment, and there was almost a tinge of an offended blush on his cheeks before Jarvis stepped in to defend his tactlessness.

Being called tactless was fine, it wasn't really an insult he could understand regardless; on the other hand, when Jarvis chose to apologize for him with a harsh albeit true comment about his inexperience with human interaction, it was met with a discontented grunt and an exaggerated refolding of the arms. He pointedly refused to meet anyone's eyes as Chanterelle giggled and Jarvis took the social lead. This was a new sensation - being grumpy. It was almost humbling, how he felt vulnerable at the hands of these individuals without the emotional necessity to hang them by their hamstrings for it. He'd never had the capacity to reign in his impulses so well before, and that tiny revelation was enough to make the situation lighter for him.

It was over as soon as Jarvis' hand settled on his shoulder. The physical touch still didn't burn, and every time Zari was reminded of that it snapped him out of his perpetually spiraling thoughts. He gave his partner a glance and composed himself for communication once more. "Azariah. I still need to know about Bloodsuckers, too." He wasn't blind to Jarvis' expectant look, but before he was going anywhere he wanted to get his own say in. Chanterelle received a half-hearted glare and a stern "Don't touch me either." before he turned to Raphael. "Don't piss me off." It sounded vaguely like a threat, and Zari briefly widened his eyes as he realized. In a regretful and almost desperate tone of voice, he added "Please."

Just as he finished, the stone tiles shook and a cascade of books spread out across the floor, causing the majority of heads inside the library to turn in the direction of an embarrassed and fumbling girl who'd just overturned a large book case. With disinterest and a meaningful hand with his motion, Zari commented "Kind of like that."

Then he paused, and did a double take. His jaws clenched, his hand found it's way to pinch the bridge of his nose, and with clear effort to keep himself together he repeated "Kind of like that."


Sir Les Paul Meredith QuirkyAngel Merciless Medic Kyuubey

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Adrian Hackney​

"The Maiden"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Library
Mission Free Time
Status Decisive

​

Mentions: Prizzy Kriyze QuirkyAngel Meredith Merciless Medic Kyuubey

What occurred in the following moments was an incredibly mixed bag of events. This new figure that Zari promptly took care of stepping into just openly vandalize DWMA property. Adrian was hardly as concerned about vandalism as he was the conflict between them. Adrian knew firsthand precisely what Zari was capable of, although his protective nature over objects within the DWMA was a surprise. Adrian noted to avoid ramming a spike through anything around him. Granted, now that the thought had occurred, he probably ought not be of the mind to do that, anyway.

Regardless, this new individual, Raphael, rubbed Adrian the wrong way. He might have been equally quick to act had Zari not done so, but more so out of his distaste for the attitude. The sorcerer, or so he claimed, was haughty, introduced himself with such flair that he assumed any of them would care, and seemed to be under some impression that also being a Fate Agent despite not even being on the same team or of the same skillset for that matter held any value to them. Why would it? A simple name would have sufficed, maybe some genuine questions. Everything about this man was a giant red flag to the weapon, and he caught himself being glad he wasn't on his team. Besides, who introduces themselves thinking a display of vandalism was a proper etiquette?

The initial girl in question introduced herself. Also in Fate. Pointed out the lack of tact. Fair enough. Also said gardening was apparently allowed in the library. Adrian didn't care enough either way to figure out the validity of that statement, so he took her at her word. She, however, was at least considerably more bearable than Raphael, although that probably wasn't a high benchmark.

Jarvis trying to diffuse the situation by moving it. Appreciated. Kudos to you, new friend. He did serve a good point, though. Too much of a ruckus and those strict ass Librarians would have them out the door with some demerits on their profiles. Fun times. Adrian personally knew to never argue with them about late returns and fines. You never won.

Then... CRASH. A whole ass loaded book shelf came tumbling down. Had Adrian been paying any attention to this whatsoever, he likely would have tried to catch it. But, his attention for the time was on the discourse in front of him. This situation did, thankfully, provide him a way out in case it escalated. Adrian thought ahead. If he looked like he was helping clean up a mess, he might not be remanded like the others, should it come to that. Plausible deniability.

It was a girl that he could only compare to a deer in headlights that seemed to have caused it, at least from her apologetic tone. She was frantically picking up books to place back. Adrian joined her, stacking books in neat piles that had opened during the fall. Once this new individual stood up with the books to her chest, a realization hit him. With the bookcase still down, they had absolutely no place to put them.

"Miss, I do believe we should probably stand the book case back up before picking up all the books... might take a few people, it looks fairly tall and awkward," Adrian commented. Specifically, commented loudly enough he hoped the others might hear and hopefully offered to help. His bright blue eyes met hers for a moment, and he smiled softly at her. He was dense, but not so dense he missed the fluster she was in. "Don't worry, we'll help. Or, at least.. I will. Can't really speak for my friends," he said, trying to offer some reassurance before realizing he actually had no sway over Zari or Jarvis. Especially Jarvis.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Location: Library
Interactions: Zari ( Prizzy Kriyze ), Chanterelle ( Meredith ), Adrian ( Sir Les Paul ), Jarvis ( QuirkyAngel ), Koiya
Mentions: N/A

This went... Swimmingly. He didn't get beat up again, so that was good.

Raphael would have answered the tatted kid's rude question about his face, but he was glad he had given him a scowl instead as he was thankfully interrupted. Chanterelle was so kind as to attempt a de-escalation. She seemed rather concerned for him before, which only made his prideful monster growl with joy and with slight irritation. He didn't need care, but the fact she'd been readily available to give it was nice on his soul. He even let out a chuckle as she told the blonde not to touch her, who pouted.

Then she looked to him for the moment as she said they had no tact, and he let out a snort at the teasing smile she gave. Even her giggle got him chuckling. Then he realized.

They were fighting over a table.

Raphael felt daft for doing something so stupid. Then again, he didn't continue after he was wrestled not to. He felt like he was still recovering from the man's simple touch and he wondered what he did to him. Was that normal? Then, what Raphael assumed was his friend, continued on about tact and apologized for the behavior this 'Azariah' showed. Not too used to interacting with others.

A darkness shadowed his eyes as he had a sickening grin from Jarvis' comment. "You could say that." He was very aware of Zari's apparent dislike of being chided like so. Or how he looked looking over his glasses. It held its own charm to it, though the monster in his chest growled at how arrogant he looked doing so. Like a snooty librarian. Though, the pout he held from Chanterelle's warning and the blush that appeared just made Raph like this kid more. He may need to offer a favor in exchange for earlier. Even more adorable when Zari recrossed his arms and looked away.

Finally, they both said who they were and why they were here. Calm Mind research and Bloodsuckers.

Zari then told Chanterelle not to touch him and told Raph not to piss him off. That just made the red-headed Sorcerer laugh, a hearty laugh at that. "Oh, don't worry about it, mate. Here, I know the library like the back of my hand. I can find you books and I'll offer a favor for any of my services to you and your dear friends for causing a wonderful ruckus-"

He was interrupted, jumping slightly and turning as there was a large crash and a cascade of smaller thumps. He turned to see a girl there, who seemed to be freaking out and cleaning up her mess. He raised an eyebrow and held back a snicker at her terrible misfortune. "Oh, poor lass." He watched as the bright-colored kid went over to help her tidy up the books before wondering how to put the bookshelf back up.

Should he help?

Was this kid another one of this 'Azariah's' friends?

If so, he'll have to extend that offer of favor to him, too.

Flourishing a bow towards Jarvis and Azariah, he waved towards them. "Azariah, Jarvis Briseis. I'll probably see you both later. Remember, the offer of a favor from your fun-loving chain sorcerer is still in the air for you both to catch. Also, Azariah, breathtaking wavelength." Literally. He even stifled a cough, still a smile on his face. "Chanterelle, shall we help her, hm?"

Turning to look at the apologetic girl, he noticed the girl had a collar, now that he studied her a bit further. Huh. Another F.A.T.E. agent. Unless she wasn't. Either way, he wanted to make sure they both got the help.

He ended up walking over to the two, leaning in a little as he beamed at the two who had books in their hands. "Do I hear help is needed? I can probably do so for a favor back. However, we haven't met before, so obviously this is for free." Taking out his grimoire and the three chain links from his satchel, he began reciting from a page he opened to, repeating it a few times. Chain began to grow from one end that he began swinging, the length growing longer until he heard it hit the floor from his circular swing. Standing in front of the fallen over bookshelf, he looked on the other page and began reciting control over his chain, which began to float in the air as if it didn't hold gravity. With a flourish of the wrist, the long chain wrapped around the second shelf from the top, wrapping around and tying itself into a knot.

He then pulled on it, pocketing his book as he tested the strength of the shelf. "Pretty sure it's good now. Let's say we lift from one end and someone helps me pull on this side, eh?"

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thaddeus Thales​

"Gauss"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, DWMA Campus, Quarantine Grounds
Mission Free time
Status Irritated

​

Mentions: None

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Gauss said in clearly irritated tone, plainly not happy with the Agent in front of him.

It was no small task to figure out where Kasper was being held. Active Madness cases were kept quite hush-hush and access to them was quite restricted. Even if he was of his previous rank, he would have faced the same barriers. It took a few contacts he had established and some loose lips to determine he was here. An isolated section of the DWMA far behind the sports fields and spaced out considerably more than the other buildings. Turned out, the DWMA had an entire area dedicated to quarantining individuals with Madness or MIBVI, and it wasn't precisely listed on the maps of the grounds.

Gauss was walled before he could even enter. The spherical building just out of reach. It was quite unlike most of the other buildings on the grounds. Whether it was constructed with a unique intent or hastily created and expanded on, he had no way of knowing. What he did know is that what he wanted, although just information, was inside.

"I am Thaddeus Thales. You've probably handled a dozen products we've made for the DWMA. All I want to know is if certain individual is ok--"

"I am sorry, Mr. Thales, but we may only permit individuals with clearance beyond this point," responded the agent, cutting him off.

"I don't even need to go further, I just need to know whether or not Kas--

"I do not have clearance to inform you--"

"Then get me someone who does or so help me I'll make you wish I was a Karen at McDonald's," Gauss said, this time cutting him off with a growing level of frustration in his tone.

The Agent was taken aback. He pulled out his phone to make a call, explaining bits of the situation and dropping Thaddeus' name as he did. It was just a few minutes before the Agent let out a sigh and hung up.

"We won't allow you in, but I can give you an update," he said. He looked down to his phone, swiping through a few things and clicking through a few buttons. It would have came across as rude if not for how purpose driven it was. "My superior stated you were likely inquiring to a Kasper Rossweisse that we have in custody. That right?" he asked, his green eyes meeting Gauss and the frustration plain on his face.

"That's the one," Gauss responded, his head tilted back and still hardly pleased with the tone of this individual.

"Medically, the... patient" the Agent started, clearly tripping up in finding a word to refer to Kasper with. "...is perfectly fine. Sore, probably, but fine," he explained. He lifted his phone to show Kasper in a padded room eating lunch. Gauss stepped forward for a closer look. It hardly looked like Kasper, but far from the same reason as to why Athena was so different. Kasper looked... drained. The fluorescent lights of the room drowning out his already light complexion, dulling the sheen of his previously jet black hair, and he was not outside of his more preferred clothing and into some type of gray jumpsuit. He was restricted, apparently, to the use of a plastic spork and knife. The room was clean, devoid of anything on any surface. Pristine white, which the lighting only made oversaturate the picture more. It was a sad state of things. Gauss had no idea of things for the man.

To think, they could have been partners.

"Thank you," Gauss said. It was a flat tone. He might have said it more sarcastically with a feeling of entitlement, but he didn't. He might have said it more sincerely, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Seeing Kasper as he was, and so devoid of all of the flair that made him who he was, just sucked the energy right out of him.

"If, uh... I don't know how this place works, honestly," Gauss said, realizing he didn't even have a way to leave contact information or really even how to do so if he wanted to. "But, if he needs anything and your system permits, just try and contact the Thales Trust, inc with my name. Write a sticky note somewhere, I don't care," he said, leaving the most general instructions he could. He would have said contact him directly, but not knowing how training would be going, contacting the trust would be more reliable.

"Sir... we don't 'do' that kind--"

"Just do what you can. I'm sure that little room is absolute misery and he hates every moment in that... suit," Gauss said, not even letting him finish. This time, not out of the same persistence or entitlement, but more so because he couldn't bare to do nothing for the man.. "I don't know how it works, maybe the guy you called earlier does, but please... just make it an option," Gauss said, this time quite sincerely to the agent, a more polite tone and request.

The Agent stared back at him for a minute, then just nodded. "I'll see what I can do," he said, although there was plenty of hesitance in his voice.

"Thank you," Gauss told him before turning back to leave the road loading to the facility. Now just to figure out what food to get before meeting up with Noah and Prudence.

He wondered what they thought of his place.

 

[Meredith]

Chanterelle Fuir

In the Library, interactions Jarvis ( QuirkyAngel ), Adrian ( Sir Les Paul ), Azariah ( Prizzy Kriyze ), Raphael ( Merciless Medic ), Koiya ( Kyuubey )​

Chanterelle’s smiling disposition turned uncomfortable at Jarvis’ dismissal. Tact was the virtue that had carried her this far, and she could not fathom a world in where it was actually unnecessary, where people could freely speak and suffer the consequences of their actions. Would people be capable of redemption, in such a world? It seemed a bad sentiment in the context of FATE. She didn’t feel a need to extrapolate on his desire to research or leave, because she was not going to do either with him, although she could invite them to sit in the alcove – she didn’t really want to.

So she grimaced a bit, and looked to the side, toward the rest of her group. Her hands fall to her side. They came there for calm mind research, a subject she knew very little about, and had no real reason to want to learn about it. Fair enough. They could fuck off, then, she thought reasonably. She didn’t need to stick around to be dissed by the goth (scene?) squad.

Adrian’s blue hair screwed up the goth thing, she thought privately.

Azariah, though, looked hurt by her comment. Maybe it was offensive to assume he would act in the same way when it came to her magic as he did to the knife destined for the table? Chanterelle didn’t know. It seemed reasonable enough to have assumed as such, and more reasonable still to say something, if she did not in fact want to poison him (although, really, nobody she had met yet seemed to mind). But Jarvis has apologized for him, and she felt strange about that, too, because really she felt no more socialized than this anxious boy. He threatened Raphael (she supposed. It was a bit lackluster) and then took it back immediately.

Weird kid.
“I won’t, Azariah. Just wanted to warn you. I’m a little bit toxic, and it’s not worth it, even if I was going to vandalize something (which I am not). It’s not you,” she said, stressing the latter part of the statement, “It’s me.”
But a loud crash made her jump half out of her skin. She turned on her heel in the aftermath, turning toward a fallen bookshelf, a purple-haired girl scrounging around on the ground apologizing wildly and recovering the books. Nothing urgent, just an accident. Interest lost. For a moment, Chanterelle watched her apathetically, eyes scanning across the scene as the witch tried to figure out who the girl was apologizing to or if she was in any immediate danger. The head librarian had been out for hours.
So, you know, probably not.

It would be nice of her to do something about that. She deliberated silently. Her gaze focused more closely on the girl with the books. Was she crying? That piqued the witch’s interest. Nobody she knew would want to cry in public – embarrassing – so things must seem pretty bad, Chanterelle reasoned, for someone to do so. There was a kind of second-hand embarrassment rising in her chest.
Shameful, really. It was one thing to be in touch with your emotions, and another to have them control them. That was the part she hated of the forming anxiety that tugged at her chest, the manic energy, the need to move and do something (anything at all). Every interaction here stressed her the fuck out, but really that was a personal problem, and she felt unprepared to deal with anyone else’s personal problems when hers were eating a hole in her chest.

But the blue-haired kid broke away from the group to help, so she didn’t have to face it, or deal with it at all. She could hear him over there offering to lift up the bookcase – but he said he wanted help. Chanterelle looked down at her hands. She looked up at everyone else in the group. He didn’t seem to want to volunteer Azariah or Jarvis-
Raph had been talking when the bookcase had fallen. He had also been talking while she contemplated her predicament, something about favours and wavelengths (things she did not much care for), but then she heard her name. Her eyes lingered on the red-haired boy incredulously.

“I have categorized myself as a support witch, but I will admit, I did not mean it like that.”
A pause.
“Surely, those with uncharacteristic human strength walk among us. I do not-“

But he was already walking away, so she let the statement trail. What was she going to do about a bookcase? Any plants that could help tip it up would have to root so bad they’d mess up the tiling. Raphael was doing something with his chains that might make it possible for her to help him.
“Nice to meet the two of you,” she said quickly, “if you’d like to be involved in whatever is happening now, feel free, but otherwise I might come over to say hullo if you stick around.”

She bobbed away from the group, approaching the girl on the floor next to the blue-haired kid, instead of the bookshelf properly. In a way, she hoped that this would be her responsibility, and that she wouldn’t have to risk an incredibly embarrassing injury by bookshelf.

“Hey, are you alright? You kinda ate it.”

Do Not Touch!

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Chilled Kiss​

Kallis Estate | March 7th, 2067​

Spoiler: The Apple and the Chateau

The Kallis Chateau was nothing short of an impressive home. Not quite a mansion, but definitely a large and impressive manor with a well-manicured lawn. White stone with blue tile accents, a solid three stores with classical French influence. It was a pretty house, but Midori had been there plenty and Emira lived there, so the impact it might have had was far lessened. The more important part was no one else was home.

Midori waltzed up the steps and to the door, but waited for Emira knowing it was probably locked and had some incredible security system built into its otherwise old design that would require Emira to open it. He looked back to her with his dual colored eyes and raised one brow. ”Anywhere will work that’s quiet, don’t even need a room if you don’t want me that far,” he said, although his words held a second meaning. He was trying to show he didn’t just want her in private for some other motif. Just someplace less distracting and open.

Once upon the grounds of what had become her home, a place she always looked upon with a curious wonder, her steps smoothed into slower ones. There was a leisurely air that eluded itself when in an area that was her own residence. The streets of the city always had her on alert, the paranoia of things or people lurking always acting to dial her hyper awareness past ten. With each step up towards the house, those doors in sight, Emira couldn’t help but stop at the very last one. Even if she wanted to use soul perception, there were things in place to keep her from actually scanning inside the house to see if it was occupied or not. A look of annoyance crossed her features, lips pursing as those eyes narrowed. “ If he’s here, you’re not going to try to assassinate him again, are you? “ The question was playful by all means but there was an amount of actual concern there. That would land Midori back on his ass outside with a door being slammed in his face, that much she knew.

Releasing a sigh of some sort, Emira shimmied past Midori, planting herself in front of a panel off to the side of the entrance. It was a solid panel, only coming to life after she began tapping away at it. It was silent, no beeps accompanying anything she inputted. A side glance was shot towards the man beside her, eyes flickering back hastily as the program installed prompted for more. A subtle shift forward and both of those eyes were scanned, Emira carefully brushing her pixie pink hair off to the side so they wouldn’t get in the way. After her soul signature had also been read, there was finally a sound to confirm acceptance of her identity.

“Always such a pain. My window would’ve been less of a hassle. “ She muttered, grabbing both handles and flinging those double doors open in some sort of dramatic but rebellious way. The autonomous weapon didn’t even glance back to see if Midori was following. The kitchen was her first stop, hands plucking up an apple that looked so fresh it might as well have been obtained from the markets that lined the streets just that morning. Where did Cyrus have time for such things? Emira didn’t even know how the man was so exceptional when it came to time management. It was a little annoying because it left a scant amount of room for doing anything that didn’t get caught by him.

A bite into that apple, a sideways glance, and an elbow to balance herself upon one of the counters was all that Midori would get as she watched him from her more perched and lax position. She held the same apple out, bite side meticulously hidden. “ Want some? “ It wasn’t as if he would mind the fact that her mouth had already been on it. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Whether she knew it or not, Emira had every single bit of his attention. From the brief glance in her crimson eyes to the sway of her hips as she moved passed him. Even that pixie pink hair when she flung it over her shoulder, catching what little light came in from the porch. Midori wasn’t always a detail oriented individual, but when it came to Emira, he knew every inch.

”I do recall scaling that window plenty of times,” Midori responded while Emira strutted forward through the manor. It was a fair enough point, and she seemed to enjoy making him climb the highest heights to reach her. Or, perhaps, it was just the thrill of doing something she ought not. In the back of his mind, Midori was sure Cyrus somehow knew.

The apple. The forbidden fruit. Emira holding it, leaning against that granite countertop, it was more than a poetic sentiment to him. She was hardly his first sin, but she was one that changed more than he ever anticipated. It was hard to shift his focus from her pink perfection to the fresh fruit in front of her, but Midori was always one to play along.

He swerved around the island of the kitchen to the countertop Emira was against, then leaned in, letting his eyes hover over the fruit, then darting back up to her. With a sly grin, he simply responded, ”Always.” He raised his hand to hers and with his fingers, spun the apple from within her grasp to reveal the portion she would have bit into, then sunk his teeth into the fruit overlapping her own bite. A fresh one just… wasn’t enough for him.

Those eyes simply watched him, fixated on every movement. That one word, single response, was a noose, winding securely around her neck but she enjoyed it. The corner of her lips pulled into a playful smile, clearly amused by the happenings of the kitchen. If there was more of this in store than Emira certainly wouldn’t be complaining. Not one bit. Appearing quite smug, she leaned further forward, those crimson eyes now peering at him through a curtain of hair that had swung into her vision to obscure it. “ Is this a… any room in the house kind of thing or a bedroom preferred type of thing? I can think of so many places in the house that Cyrus would scold us for being in. “

It was clear that she was well trained in matters of physical finesse, as one singular movement had her snatching that apple back, that curvaceous frame now across the room and leaning against one of the archways that led into another room. “ You never were the type to share. “ She mentioned as she brought the apple up to her lips, eyeing it before taking another thoughtful bite.

Spoiler: The First Bite

“ The house is definitely empty otherwise Cyrus would’ve already made an appearance. “ Emira finally concluded, grinning devilishly from the implication of what it meant for them to finally be alone. While she loved her games, she especially was enamored by Midori’s ability to play them. There was something insanely appealing about finding someone capable of keeping up with her. Maybe that’s why she didn’t mind their revisiting of certain things. The apple was discarded into the waste bin and those now empty hands raised into view. “ I’ll follow your lead. “

The transformation Emira went through once she entered her home was nothing short of impressive. Or, perhaps, enticing. Midori remembered quite fondly when this exact tone was what she showered him with. When he was the taboo, untrusted weapon on the block that Emira found so fun to toy with. His eyes followed her as she paraded through the manor, watching every delicate hair of hers fall into every perfect place she wanted it to. Although, in his experience, it was far less delicate than it looked.

”My recollection is that very few things were strictly… bedroom things,” Midori responded, in a clean voice that cut right through the playfulness of her wording. Though, it didn’t matter how clean the cut was when her frame worked its way through the archway and cast its own spell on him, no words he could muster could just wash away.

It seemed the time for these teasing exchanges was coming to a close. Bittersweet may it be, had he not something to show her, he wouldn’t even be in this house in the first place. He stepped forward, not with the same smug stride she had, but with the confidence of a man who’d found gold after ages of sieving through murky water. The mischievous grin on his face was only present until he actually neared her; once he was just a few steps away from that stone archway, his face cleared and the excitement in his soul settled.

He had to focus.

”Release your Calm Seal,” he told her, ”I will be fine. Trust me, he explained. In this moment, he focused every bit of his wavelength and skill into the accuracy of his soul perception. His eyes flared. Though normally dark, the green-gray flecks in one shot to life while the other brought out its browns into a brighter tone. The difference in them wasn’t always obvious, but now they shone like lamps on a dark night. It was necessary to be as in tune with her soul as he could be.

”I will need your hand… but you will first need to enter your Soul Space. We won’t be there long, though, so don’t worry if there’s something you’d rather keep private,” he explained to her. His tone was different. Colder, perhaps. Mostly, reflecting the focus and intent on execution necessary for this next task. Even Midori had not the ability to balance flirtation with the more advanced techniques he was about to perform. In any case, this wasn’t a side of him Emira saw often.


The change in her demeanor was almost instantaneous the moment he crossed the threshold between them. The shift in his own way of moving wasn’t lost on her and it was strangely alarming. She tensed up, almost like someone afraid they were about to be reprimanded for misbehaving. Any of the fun that had been in the air, kudos to their tones and small flirtations, had just been suffocated out by this new seriousness. Emira bit the inside of her cheek, trying to handle the whiplash of the vibe in the air without inquiring about it.

That wasn’t until she heard his request which caused her to shrink back against the archway, desperate for a bit more space between them. Again? It had been taxing the first time and while his company had helped alleviate a lot of the uneasiness that had settled afterwards, this was different. The seal may as well be a drug that she was heavily addicted to with how it aided her in being able to function enough to have a semblance of a normal life. It also kept her from harming others but here he was claiming that it wouldn’t do such a thing. Even if that were true, it was going to recoil and hurt her too. She was not spared the agonizing repercussions of being without her seal up.

If she’d been watching him intently before, now that was magnified by a hundred. Her gaze was locked on his, unwavering, and full of so many conflicting emotions that it rivaled the colors that were shining like beacons from his eyes. Without realizing it, the mention of having to hold her hand made her recoil, hands swiftly disappearing behind the small of her back in an attempt to keep them out of reach. Why was she so afraid of this? Trust didn’t come easy and this was certainly causing every alarm to go off within her mind, that inner panic almost louder than the voices.

Emira wasn’t worried about Midori in her soul space, it was quaint and eerily dark. If there was anything to see, anything private or intimate, it was hidden to everyone. That included Emira herself. Just a candle, a flicker of hope, not quite died out yet but definitely on the precipice as each time she entered her soul space it seemed to be dimmer than before.

A shiver befell her frame, working its way along each inch of her body, those tiny hairs visibly standing on edge from the goosebumps, before she took a deep breath. No matter the reservations she was facing, standing at the edge of this cliff of uncertainty, there was one thing that was concrete knowledge. The only argument that would allow her to step forward; Midori would never allow harm to come to her person, soul, heart, or body.

So she stepped off, seal lowered with a hand reaching out towards him both physically and spiritually, extending the invitation into her soul space with this singular notion. The woman was already standing behind the vintage chair, a crimson velvet from the Victorian era that was eerily similar to her eyes. Those arms were resting in a lax manner but laid neatly upon the top to support her weight. Emira never sat in that chair, not once.

Midori observed. Every little shift. The change in the atmosphere between them. How she hid her hand at the thought of extending it. Not that she was shy with it, he imagined, but what the gesture meant in terms of exposing herself. This was, most of all, a test of trust, and that was something she didn’t offer at all, let alone easily. Even her frame leaning on the chair for whatever purpose that held to her.

It wasn’t what her body did that mattered. It was her soul. It needed to be open. It needed to be capable of forming a connection. She needed to be in tune with it. Truth be told, had Midori been half as talented as Emmett, these extra efforts may not entirely be necessary. But fate was that he was a weapon using skills he was far less experienced with than the senior Meister, and these extra steps were necessary unless he wanted this to wait another three years.

When it came to Emira, Midori didn’t want to delay a moment longer than he needed to.

He reached out for her hand, upon touching it feeling her wavelength hit him first. He had experience with it, but it never did truly brace him for the voices. It was a moment to acclimate, but his focus and will were much unlike that of the Meister previously attempting this. He knew what he was getting into. From this point on, it became a race against her own soul to finish this out.

He closed his eyes and let his soul minger with hers. His was silent, cold, chilling; hers was loud, fiery, powerful. As his wavelength and even deeper parts of himself poured into her, their souls connected. A swirling mix of her echoing skulls and his chilling death swirling around until he was able to stabilize a connection. Weapon on weapon connections like this were rare and difficult, but he stood the benefit of this connection not needing to be strong enough for a resonance or even to fight. Just enough to bring them together.

The voices grew louder. He anticipated this long beforehand. What he was doing now was not just for any weapon. He had conditioned himself to stand against the particular difficulties of her soul. Every shouting voice was met with an indomitable stillness, a brick wall with no argument. A steadfast bulwark against what caused her so much anxiety and anguish once the seal was released.

It was enough. It was not her Soul Space they needed to be in. For this task, it was his. He pulled her wavelength inside of himself, letting it flow to his very core and keeping it stable for the transition. Emira needed do nothing but wait. Wait and allow it to flow. If anything, it might have been foreign for a weapon to feel their wavelength flow into another, but that was the only caveat here if she remained calm.

He entered his own soul space once the threshold had been open. Much like hers, his was dark. An inky blackness around them illuminated by exactly nineteen long candles in a circular pattern standing atop bamboo shanks. Behind his person was a large ritualistic stone adorned with ofuda on a shimmering golden rope, barely visible, with the hardly legible 青 kanji engraved into it. The air was damp, the floor itself covered in a chilled layer of water a half-inch deep from wherever one stood. The light from the candles bouncing off of it existing as the proof of its existence beyond a mere feeling.

This is where Emira would find herself. Her soul itself, a body manifesting now, inside this chilled room. The most inner sanctum of his very self. And, with her, another large stone manifesting with a similar engraving of エミーラ. Truth was, it was always there. It just took her light to show it. With Emira came the rush of voices with her, echoing throughout the inky blackness of this chilled space. With her, came them.

Midori was still determined. As focused as he started, and maintaining the connection without fault. He was hardly expressive about her arrival, but this entire endeavor was taxing even if it didn’t show. More so than he would ever admit, especially to Emira.

”We’re almost there,” he said aloud. He wasn’t wrong. Getting her this far was half the task, not including getting her to agree in the first place. He stepped forward into the dimly lit ring of candlelight, and nodded to Emira. No more instructions, no gesture to come hither. Just acknowledgement.

This next step would be the most challenging, arguably. He closed his eyes, clasped his hands, and all while maintaining the connection they had established, focused entirely on separating his mind and soul. This was a strain unlike either creating a Calm Seal or connecting to the Soul Space of another. This required splitting his effort in for two tasks that both required an intense amount of focus. This is what he spent those months in Japan for.

The cold rush of his fluid wavelength swirled around them. The air was akin to the flowing water of a lazy river now more than just damp air. Each of the candles around him sparked to life. The water at their feet raised, then receded. His soul space was shifting and at the very floor beneath him, bright blue lines of neon light traced the ground, reflecting off of the unsteady water until they traced out the Kanji 凪. Once it was finally completed, it flashed once before disappearing. The turbulence in his soul settled. The air returned to normal. The candles died down.

The voices became quieter. The echoes further away. Midori had set up a Calm Seal with Emira inside of his very soul. It was the same effect she had with hers, albeit with no added effort. That all fell onto Midori. With this complete, he let out a long exhale, followed by a few deep breaths. It was no small feat for him. More experienced Meisters or perhaps even Cyrus could have done this without the sheer taxation this was on Midori… but it was a credit to a Weapon at all to accomplish this. Autonomous or not.

”I promise, Emira,” he said, his breath still short and winded. ”This is not just some boastful display… there is more… he told her. He worried. Worried that the results had yet to impress her as this was little different than what she could do on her own. It was some display of skill and mental fortitude to do this, sure, but it was hardly what he had promised.

”When you’re ready, you need to join me here… take my hand, my shoulder, it doesn’t matter, but trust me. The echoes are quiet now, so you should be able to focus, too. I need you to support as much of the connection you can between us, then this will all make sense,” he told her. His instructions clear, although not particularly insightful. All he asked her for, really, was to take whatever weight she could for a brief moment. He had faith she could, if she really wanted it.

All Emira could manage to do at this point was surrender herself to everything happening without a pittance of combativeness. It was known that in the middle of anything like this, so soulfully intimate, that it could hurt both parties involved if their wavelengths were to somehow start going haywire instead of peacefully being melded together in this dance they had found themselves in. Rejection. Though she knew that feeling all too well when it came to trying to connect with another, it wasn’t something that she was privy to experiencing here and now.

Midori’s soul space was, could be categorized, as rather morbid or eerie to some. It had the traditions that were pounded into him written all over it but the silence? The silence was what gave it a colder vibe. A sharper edge. It was hard for some to be placed in such a noiseless room. Silence was a killer to even the most stable of minds. It allowed the thoughts to roam freely and gave them no buffer. As she looked around, each object, each carefully placed thing was cemented and ingrained to her memory. She knew each object, tangible or not, in someone’s soul space meant something. Something deeper than words could describe.

The air around them was so chilled that the moment Emira inhaled, it was both refreshing and painful. Those voices of course followed, as she expected them to, their words and differing tones that fought for dominance within this new silence was no surprise to her. They were a prime example of being driven crazy by the void of sound.

Those lids fell to a close, desperately trying to drown them out. It showed with each twisted expression. A pang of guilt was starting to bud within her chest at the realization that not only was her presence feeling much like a trespasser here but the voices were also intruding on this sacred place.

Suddenly they quieted down, as if the seal that normally was used as a crutch had been placed back up to take all of the weight once again. It wasn’t Emira’s though, it was Midori’s. One eye opened, taking a peek at the man standing within the circle of candles. Their more vibrant flickers were noticed, the way they had flared to life only mirrored the way his eyes had looked before they had entered this place. It was engrossingly beautiful. Then they simmered back down and his voice was heard over the hushed whispers in the area, no longer having to be raised to be audible.

The strain bleeding through with each word was enough to warrant concern. Boastful display? Emira knew Midori and everything the man did always had a reason behind it. No matter how grandiose or minuscule, there was something that drove him. As to why she had become one of those ‘reasons’, that genuinely haunted her. Nobody put in this much effort. Not a single soul. Maybe Cyrus or Edie but that was definitely unlike this. Granted, a handful of the blame for that was not on everyone else. At least that wasn’t something that she’d try to deny. Emira had a part to play in that, always keeping everyone further than an arm's length after spending a night or two with them.

Cutting through the thoughts bubbling about like a witch’s brew within the confines of her mind came his invitation, rather, his instruction. They’d come this far. Another stepping stone that would be laid out now. Would she follow this through? See something through instead of turning tail and running as was the nature of most of the actions taken when it came to trusting someone? Both eyes were now open, the darkness of the soul space they were in only dampening the crimson that usually bled with more brightness.

“ My support? “ Emira echoed the words aloud, shoulders tensing slightly at the way they bounced around the room. A step forward. Then another. They were slow, almost deliberately so, but they eventually succeeded in closing the space between them. She couldn’t help it but as she reached forward, it was noticeable that her hand was shaking, those fingers quivering before they settled on the arm of the Hoshi standing there.

Spoiler: The Fruit of Silence

There was an immediate rush that could only be described as perpetually falling down the rabbit hole. Emira felt her soul plummet, the inner tug o’ war for concentration being played out but ultimately she won that struggle. The effect was immediate, that physical grip on him tightening as she steeled her grasp on the rope between them, footing now in place. Emira wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t fail him now. Trust was hard but it went both ways. He was just as vulnerable as she was at this moment. Just as susceptible to the same things.

Everything was now sound, stable, holding steady, ultimately unfrayed, and releasing most of the workload that Midori had taken upon himself. Eventually, if she remained like this, she would tire and things would begin to splinter until the rope dared to snap. Currently though, Emira could do this for an impressive amount of time.

It wasn’t just a test of trust. This wasn’t just following orders. All of this effort, all playfulness aside, Emira could only admit was monumental. Not many feats got Emira to bat an eye as she was callous in nature. Being more impervious and detached from most made it hard to appreciate things but all of this was something else entirely. She truly wanted him to believe and know that it wasn’t lost on her. The scythe found herself wanting, for reasons unbeknownst to her, to show him that she was capable. That she was worth all of this. She wanted so desperately to be able to believe it too.

This was the pivotal moment he waited for. He had tested this with his cousins, but never someone as intense as Emira and more importantly never someone with whom he did not share blood. He was warned that this would be more difficult without the advantage of familial ties, and thus far that warning rang true. The salvation he had for this was that Emira was skilled enough in her own merit to carry plenty of the weight of the connection between their souls. There was hope. He wanted this as desperately as she did.

With that, he closed his eyes once more. His focus returned to the separation of mind and soul. The act of forcing apart these things that were so intrinsically connected. These natural forces that by all rights were intended to be connected. Even with the countless days he spent on this, this next step was nowhere near easy and with Emira, it may just be the most difficult task he had ever put himself to.

If it wasn’t skill that brought him here, it was determination.

One by one, floating kanji of 凪 scribed themself into the air. Much further out than the center circle. Far beyond even the stones. Each one engraving itself into his mind, each one forcing the voices back, each one symbolizing the ever-growing distance of his mind and soul. Slowly, but surely, each neon light of the kanji connected. Despite the cool air, sweat ran from his head, his face snarling and contorting in completely uncharacteristic like ways as he pushed himself. Emira had seen him hurt. He could laugh it off, hell might smile through it. This was different.

Midori was no prodigy like Emmett. He was no Meister. He was far from Stein. And, he was younger than most of those that even tried to achieve this even without another person in his soul. This was not an endeavor his Hoshi blood gave him any advantage in. This was the fruition of long, hard work and raw dedication to a goal.

Within their souls, it was just a few minutes. Minutes of grueling, intense focus that felt like ripping apart neodymium magnets or trying to look two ways at once. Every step further was far more difficult than the ones that preceded it, each bit of distance a considerably greater mountain to climb than the first seal ever was.

But, it was there. Each kanji complete in its glowing outline before again, entirely disappearing from his Soul Space. It was almost as if nothing had happened. No rush of water, no chill, no burst of flames from his candles. Nothing to show for this effort. All that existed in his Soul Space now was the quiet, cold solitude between himself and Emira.

Once it was complete, his face turned to normal. The strain on the connection gone. What was once a heavy weight now returned to something relatively simple to maintain, even easier as it could be split between them. The effort Midori asked from Emira was no longer necessary. This was the end result.

He let out a long exhale, his breath as short as before if not more so, but each inhale of the chilled air alleviated that. In just a few breaths, he finally said, ”It’s done, Emira. Do you hear it?” He asked what she could hear, but his soul with her stood silent. The most that might reverberate through that space would be his hastened heartbeat, if that.

With everything Midori was displaying, his expressions, the sweat beading down along his skin, the almost crazy nature of his face and body basically tearing itself apart, Emira had half the mind to release the rope and hold onto him instead. It came to a point that it was becoming unbearable to watch, even for her, as he fractured into pieces right in front of her. That look of concern started to melt away as it all just stopped. It literally stopped. The rope went taut and with that easing, so did the steady grasp on it. It was lessened considerably until finally Emira let it go.

Those blood orchid eyes that had been so focused and worried about the Hoshi in front of her soon came to drop and stare at her shaking hands. Why were they shaking? Physically her body was reacting before her mind could even wrap its head around the situation and what had just occurred. For a few moments, Emira didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his words, didn’t move a singular muscle, didn’t even breathe. She stared as those hands rose up higher, closing the distance between her gaze and the tremoring, the two desperate to meet. Finally they were upon her face, palms hiding her eyes and acting as a makeshift mask to shelter her from the world. Or maybe hide the world from her.

A forcibly released laugh. That’s what followed, that’s what finally broke through. What finally caused her to fill her lungs with the crisp air within his soul space. It didn’t stop there as that one singular laugh became borderline neurotic with its inability to cease. More and more filled the air. Her body was convulsing just as badly as Midori’s had been a moment ago. One might assume, just from this visible display, that she was having another mental breakdown, something she was privy to given her history.

Lastly, that manic laughter turned into a series of sobs. It was processing, albeit slowly, but there was nothing in her head. Emira heard absolutely nothing. Nothing. She choked on that thought, hung up on the silence. A steady trail of tears slid past her hands, visible upon her cheeks and falling in slow motion to join the cold water beneath their feet. As they hit those pyddles, small ripples were sent out, a cascading effect that started to look like a gentle rain had begun. She just couldn’t put an end to it. It was like a mixed cocktail of emotions being poured out all at once. Years of sorrow, anguish, and hopelessness were now being met with a reprieve that Emira had truly begun to believe was unreachable. It was hard to swallow, impossible even, that the only voice she heard was Midori’s.

As if afraid it would all disappear the moment those hands left her face, Emira merely peeked through those fingers that gradually spread enough to allow her to see. The only thing she was truly searching for was the Hoshi in front of her, unsure of what words she could even mutter that could even begin to express what this meant to her. Admittedly, there weren’t any. She knew that. There wasn’t a singular word or phrase or statement that could vocalize the feelings that were now echoing about without the chaos within her heart and mind.

Actions speak louder than words.

In that moment those hands went from shielding her own face to caressing his, cupping it and pulling him towards her. Those lips matted with tears, still trembling, found solace in being pressed against his. It was here that everything she wanted to say, every singular thought she’d ever pushed back, buried and actively avoided, over the years, started to flow faster than the brimming tears. They were so intimately connected that Emira only hoped, prayed even, that he’d feel it all. Not just the physical notion but the words that couldn’t form into a semblance of being comprehensible. The flare of her soul, the gratefulness, the joy. Amidst this silence, this once thought impossible and extraordinary gift he’d bestowed upon her, Emira wanted him to hear her loud and clear.

Even if they never achieved this again, Midori had given her something that could never be replaced or replicated. Emira would never forget.

Despite their salinity, despite the silence, the trembling, even his focus on the connection around them, everything Emira gave him in that kiss was something he longed for since their last. She, without knowing it, abolished a fear of his: that it would be their last. In her goal to give him a moment, she succeeded probably even more so than he did by doing all of this.

Before that moment, he wanted to explain so many things. He wanted to tell her he would teach a Meister how to do this, so she could have a partner. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that unique. That Emmett could have done it far easier. Perhaps that Cyrus could have given her this same gift. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t unique or impossible, but uncommon required him deviate from his path of assassination to accomplish it.

But, in this moment, all he wanted was for it not to end. He surrendered himself to her kiss like a king toppled in an inevitable game of chess. Her embrace was enough. More than enough. With his arms now wrapped around her, he was lost in the moment, maintaining just enough focus to keep the connection and the seal. Other thoughts, other desires, other observations like her soul flaring or anything about the effort he poured into this… they dissolved away.

For now, it was just the two proving that even the coldest embrace in the most solitary of places could mean the world to the right people.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Adrian Hackney​

"The Maiden"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Library
Mission Free Time
Status Flustered

​

Mentions: Prizzy Kriyze QuirkyAngel Meredith Merciless Medic Kyuubey

No. Adrian did not recognize her. This was a staunch, unmovable fact. Whether it was the shifts in her appearance or simply that he focused more so on his classes in EAT, wanting to compete for those top marks, was well beyond what he was thinking. Adrian was remarkably a good academic student. Not perhaps the inherent brilliance of a gifted soul like Emmett, but he put the time and effort in always wanting to be near the top and rarely achieving it. He was driven. Often the type to be outspoken and ask questions, sometimes too many. Often the type to piece things together and ask a question only to be told it would be covered later, much to his personal chagrin. Remove that element of a class rank and his ambition, however, plummeted.

Much like his stomach when his hand grazed hers. That act alone might have been overlooked. What caught him, though, were those lilac eyes looking at his. It was more than a brief flicker. She looked at him with some type of intent and Adrian had no natural response for this. His face instinctively flushed red, reasons for such well beyond his own reasoning. It was not her appearance that did this to him. She was cute, sure, but unlike at least one of his squad mates, Adrian didn't turn his head at every cute girl that walked by. He was not the type to be consumed by a singular facet of an outward appearance or one single detail on her person. It was the interaction. Adrian knew how to compete and how to fight, but this particular exchange was so out of his depth that he didn't just not know how to respond, he didn't recognize what had happened to respond.

"Y-You're welcome..." was the only words he could mutter, and even then admittedly a fair amount of time even after she had finished her gazing at him. She was already in the process of standing by the time he said a word. Her mention of his name didn't even strike him. If he were a program, he would have been a window task manager couldn't even stop.

Luckily, or perhaps intentionally, Koiya dissolved the situation by moving plans along to restore the bookshelf. As he watched her fumble over her words and respond to the help provided by the others, his own brain finally came to. It seemed a full system restart was necessary to get him back on track. Whatever that was, he would review later. For now, there was a task set in front of him, and Adrian was never one to fail. The instigator of the issue offered to help, which was a surprise, but his chains seemed useful. The witch in the corner had a pleasant discourse with the girl that had shattered his brain for a second, so at least the entire situation was diffused. For a group of DWMA Agents, standing a bookshelf up shouldn't be such a huge task.

His brain did notice a flaw in their plain. Pulling the shelf with the chains on a horizontal plane was hardly efficient and more likely to damage the shelf itself than get it up in any timely fashion. The physics just weren't there. This was where the right brained nature of Adrian kicked in, and saw a chance to be a star player on this team of theirs.

Adrian darted over to the opposite side of the shelf as it was lifted and as he did so, flared his with wavelength with no restraint. A standard feat of Wavelength Amplification that Zari could have done, and Jarvis wouldn't have even needed. Regardless of its necessity, it was useful. He squatted down and dug his hands under the shelf to pull it straight up, then opted to lift it with his legs and a pulling motion from his arms with a goal to get it upright so that those pulling forward might actually get it stable on its normal face instead of drag it around the library floor, or so he thought might occur.

He wasn't sure why she was so apt to try and lift the bookcase. Perhaps she had some underlying ability to make it easier or maybe she felt so inclined. He also wasn't sure why the sorcerer opted to help when just a moment ago, he wanted to carve a fucking table. This seemed like, yet again, a time where asking questions only made things more confusing. As he lifted the bookcase from its flat face on the floor, pivoting it up for the others, the thought to him that every single book on that side that wasn't crushed was about to come tumbling out. Fun times. If the sorcerer over there could make chains, why didn't he have the forethought to perhaps wrap the whole thing up to avoid that problem?

The thought hit him again that, oh yeah, this is the same guy that wanted to carve up the table. He probably wasn't the most logical soul in the library.

Adrian made an executive decision here to transform his arms into the doors of the Maiden, covering as much of the shelf's surface area as he could to keep the books in place. Many were already scattered across the ground, some crushed under the shelf to begin with, but whatever he could do to avoid an even bigger mess occurred to him to be a useful thought.

Realistically, though, this logical side of him wasn't entirely a normality. This type of forethought, though not uncommon, was a distraction from what happened earlier. The more thought he poured into this, the less he had to pour into why the girl with the lilac eyes made him freeze like a chrome tab on a four gig laptop. The more he acted, the less he thought. The more he did within his comfort zone, the less he had to think about the moment he was just out of it. If he hadn't known better, that girl was a Witch and her eyes a spell.

 

[Merciless Medic]

The Lush Coffin

The Lush Coffin | March 7th, 2067​

While Noah was adjusting the headset and toying with the remotes, the crystalline centerpiece of the table in front of him lit up. No buttons pressed, no input from him. Blue lights flickered on and off from the edges of the crystal before another hologram shot up in front of them. This one was a simple flat screen, as opposed to a three-dimensional display like Lehka before. In just a few moments, the full color display came to life entirely, displaying the face and upper torso of a slightly older gentleman sitting in a chair with a stereotypical bookcase behind him. A stern look across his face, although hardly harsh. His bright eyes were familiar, though his behind glasses. Long, nearly white hair trailed behind him perfectly combed back matched by a disconnected mustache and beard.

Before much of a response could be made, he uttered, “You are not Thaddeus…” in a tone so plain and matter of fact it was hard to tell if he was curious or frustrated. His eyes flickered down from the screen and he lifted his head slightly, as if understanding.

“He registered two new accounts for the complex, though; each matching your description. I assume that makes you, sir, Noah Wiley, and you, miss, Prudence Pontmercy. I am Viraj Thales, Thaddeus’ father,” the figure went on, powering through introductions faster than desperate men at a speed dating event.

“Might I know who you are to my son, perchance?” he asked them, again in that dry matter-of-fact tone that made him hard to read.

Noah was simply caught off guard. He hadn’t noticed the hologram and just about jumped out of his skin when he heard a male voice speak to him, his body jolting slightly. It didn’t sound like Gauss. Lifting up the headset with wide eyes, he sighed out of relief as he saw it was just a hologram. He took off the headset after turning it off and set the devices back down on the table as Viraj figured out who they were and introduced himself.

Huh, at least Noah didn’t have to worry about introducing himself. Still, he felt an immense amount of anxiety and nervousness talking to the father of his Meister, who he just met today. Especially someone who was of such a high rank socially and in business. He better make a good impression and he felt his chest tighten with uncertainty.

Prudence was startled by the hologram’s sudden appearance. She turned towards the source of the voice and saw an old man on the floating screen. At first, she thought it had something to do with Noah’s tinkering with the VR set, but by the boy’s reaction, it was not his doing.

Once Viraj asked, Noah nodded towards him courteously, bowing with his shoulders slightly like how he was taught. “Pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Thales. I’m one of Thaddeus’ demon weapons.” He nodded his head towards Prudence. “She’s the other weapon.”

Prudence nodded, “That I am. We’ve only been recently appointed to be your son’s Weapon. But it’s a welcomed surprise to meet you here, sir.” She was aware of the formal note in her voice, but it matched the man’s appearance, and perhaps his expectations.

Viraj listened to every word that came out of Noah. There was no delay in the screen time, either. The man was just a rock wall soaking in information. These two would be the ones helping Thaddeus. He knew little about them aside from the fact his son apparently trusted him in his room, which itself was not something Thaddeus did often.To go as far as making them profiles so they could come and go at their leisure was a whole step beyond that. It definitely appeared his time waiting for the program had brought him some change–for better or worse.

”I did wonder if they would allow him more than one again,” Viraj responded in an insightful tone. ”Their criticism of him, though I still question it, had me wonder if they would waste that gift of his to wield multiple for the sake of…” he trailed off. It was clear from his tone he did not fully support Thaddeus placement in the program, and the distaste that entered his tone now only displayed that even more. ”...correcting the behaviors they saw unfit.”

He clasped his hands together in front of his chin and let out a deeper exhale, enough so the mic had picked it up. ”I do suppose even they such a stipulation as pointless as I do for Thadde–”

Then came new voices. Younger voices. Children. Two of them, specifically, running into the call and shouting things that didn’t quite become clear until they neared the screen. But, of course they did. Even for a man like Viraj, keeping young ones in line was not an easy task. The youngest, or at least smallest of the two, was a girl no more than five with her head barely above the desk, the other a boy a little older whose eyes shared that trademark brightness that both Viraj and Gauss also had. The genes were strong.

”Daaaddy, is that Addi? Is it? Is ittttt?” she asked quickly. She had heard the name Thaddeus, and immediately came running. She knew not to barge in for something akin to business, but for a call from her brother, she had no restraint for her excitement.

”I don’t believe it’s Addi, Nav’,” the older boy said. He was at least tall enough to see the screen and that it wasn’t Thaddeus on it.

The stone face of Viraj broke down rather quickly when his children ran in. A smile, that of a kinder, elderly gentleman crept onto his face and once she was tugging at his pant leg, he visibly lowered his body within his seat to meet her. ”Your brother is right, Navi. It’s not Thaddeus,” he told her, although in a much softer voice. He then picked her up, revealing her long black hair and slightly lighter skin than the others. Also, her more green eyes. He sat her in his lap and poised her giggling face at the screen.

”My dear, these are his new friends. The boy is Noah, the girl is Prudence. They’re going to be helping him,” Viraj said, holding her still. She waved and was all smiles.

”His weapons, you mean, father?” the boy added, perhaps in a tone that revealed his more people pleasing nature.

”I chose my words right, Ray. Your brother has had plenty of weapons, but never have I called and they appeared on the screen, have they?” Viraj answered him. His tone was still gentle, but there was a tinge of frustration in them. Perhaps from being corrected. Or, perhaps simply from referring to these people as weapons. Either could be distasteful, although far less so from the mouth of a child.

”Hiiii, Noah. I didn’t know Addi had frieeen’s,” she said, but then her attention quickly flicked over to Prudence. ”Hiii, Pru… Pru-dence. Yeah. You’re so prettttty. You have dark hair just like mama,” she said with an amount of innocence that could only come from someone who had yet to live long enough to see the world.

”She is… pretty,” Ray said, although unlike his sister, his comment held a little more behind it. Contempt, perhaps? It didn’t sound insincere, but it also didn’t sound enthusiastic at all.

”Ray, I know what you’re thinking, son. They are his friends, so it’s perfectly natural for her not to appear in the same vein as the others you have seen your brother with,” Viraj said, clearing up any misconception that Ray and his comment may have created, although it didn’t exactly give much more insight.

For a while, Prudence stood simply there, still and unmoved by the window. She was greatly disturbed, to put the matter simply. She stared, almost intensively at the kids, with wariness like that of a small animal before an unidentified threat. In truth, she had never been good with kids. They were simple creatures, sure, but also unpredictable. And how was she to treat them anyway? Clearly, an adult is supposed to treat kids kindly, but how kind? What if she overdid it? What if she did it wrong and exposed herself as a heartless person?

She stammered, trying to interrupt the confusion and anxiety inflicted by the small demons, “Ah—yes, I mean, thank you. You’re very kind.” She said this, all while averting her gaze from the screen. She had heard that some children are very sensitive to adults’ hidden feelings. What if they could read her?

Thankfully for Prudence, Noah had some insight and experience in dealing with children, as having been at Sara’s large family had helped somewhat. Most kids liked it when they were being humored and to play along or at least correct them nicely. At least, that’s what Sara’s siblings were like. It seemed like Th-... Addi’s siblings were a lot less rambunctious but still very energetic and curious. The fact that Thaddeus held such high regard for himself and Prudence made him feel quite welcomed compared to the other weapons Gauss had in the past. In fact, he felt elated. Maybe partnership with Gauss wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He waved towards Navi with an actual smile, who moved on to Prudence shortly after.

Ray didn’t seem to hold Prudence in such high regard in terms of how good she looked and Noah now wondered why Viraj said what he did. It left him rather curious. He just gave what he could of a smile towards the kids, considering he normally didn’t smile all that often, and even chuckled a little at Prudence’s expense. “Thank ya for the compliments. So, Thaddeus’ nickname’s Addi, huh?” He asked, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. “Anythin’ else ya crazy kids call ‘im?”

“We just call him Addi!” Navi responded with no small amount of energy. She was just excited to see the new people.

“Not really a nickname,” Viraj answered, “but, Thaddeus was difficult for them to pronounce when they were learning names. Addi was short and simple, and has lasted since then. No one else really uses it. Besides that, he goes by Gauss at your school. We don’t call him that at home.” he explained.

”I didn’t intend for this to be a long chat. I had suspected Thaddeus to be returning after your meeting this morning, so I was curious as to how that went. Seeing as he now has two weapons he trusts in his suite, I imagine it went well enough,” Viraj told them. ”Pleasant meeting you two. My only advice is to not try and hold him back. That is not a threat from a father, it’s a forewarning. He has always found a way to remove obstacles from his path; it’s not a good idea to become one,” he went on, offering them the only tip he felt would be necessary.

”Say goodbye, Navi. You, too, Ray,” Viraj said, looking down to both of them and while his hand reach forward for the cursor. Ray waved and merely said, ”I hope you guys do well,” followed by Navi waving intensely and shouting, “Goooooodbye! It was fun to meet you! Tell Addi we said we loved him!” all before the hologram cutout, leaving only a brief window for a response back.

Noah simply smiled and waved. “I will. Goodbye. Pleasure meetin’ ya.” As the hologram cut off and his smile returned to a more neutral expression, Noah was left wondering how bad it would be if he were to butt heads with Gauss. It would happen eventually, that’s just who he was. He often butted heads with Sara, but was he not able to do that with Gauss? Either way, the only reason why he’d argue was if Gauss would be doing something stupid enough to make him question his decision. Maybe an argument. But would he really consider Noah an obstacle if that happened too much? What behaviors did the DWMA see as unfit?

No, he shouldn’t be fussing about that right now. He’ll worry about it later when it becomes an actual issue. He would never intend to hold back Gauss, as his ambition was not only admirable but terrifying to behold and he can only imagine the kind of power Gauss held at his fingertips if he wanted something done and how far that’d go. In fact, he wondered if Gauss had done some nasty things to his past partners if they tried stopping him. His father alluded to it in his warning as if it had happened to someone at least.

Maybe he’ll ask later. As for now, he went back on the VR headset to get it going. It had been a long while since he had one of these things and he was trying to figure out how to connect it to the TV. “Huh, interestin’ family he’s got. You don’t seem very well versed in dealin’ with kids, huh?” He spoke to Prudence while his eyes were obscured by the device over his head, turning it on, adjusting it to his head, and navigating the menus with the controllers he strapped to his wrists.

Prudence raised her hand for a wave a trifle too slow and the hologram had already disappeared, her hand hovered awkwardly in the air before quickly dropping it to her side. She threw a quick glance at Noah but he didn’t seem to have noticed. It seemed his thoughts were occupied by the old man Viraj’s last words. On the contrary, Prudence was not at all troubled by it. Stepping aside and following her Meister from a distance was something she could perfectly manage. It wasn’t like she had a reason to be an obstacle on his path anyway.

As the VR device captured Noah’s attention again, Prudence left the window and went to the table at the center of the room. She picked up one of the controllers, and appeared to study them earnestly. She frowned slightly at Noah’s question. But with the most casual tone she could muster, the girl dodged the question, “lots of people don’t do well with kids.”

"Neither did I. I had to learn the hard way with Sara's family." He left it at that as he found the set of VR demos every headset had. He finally figured out how to sync the TV to the headset, so now it was projecting what he was seeing onto the TV. He picked a demo that seemed innocuously peaceful, leaving it at its menu to continue or back out from so Prudence can point to an option and press a button to enjoy. The demo was of a diving cage experience of a little deep sea diving adventure with little fishes, coral, and even going into a little cavern to see a decrepit, abandoned ship covered in moss and holes.

"Hey, I want ya to try this thing out. Got the perfect one for ya." He called over to Prudence. "It's a deep sea dive adventure. Get to see fishies, dolphins, 'n' stuff." He said with a bit of a smirk. Yet, he didn't fully explain that there was a surprising shark attack that the operators who talked to you during the adventure warned you too late about. He hoped Prudence got a scare, though he wouldn't be surprised if she tried smashing something. If that were the case, he'll just make sure she didn't smash any of Gauss' stuff. He can stop a shield bash, right?

Still, it was going to be funny. He took off the headset and offered it to her, not moving from his spot in the living area. "There's a sensory perimeter for this demo, so ya can't go too far in any which direction, but I do want ya to experience VR without droppin' ya in the thick of it. You're in a safe cage in the demo, too. And you're gonna need both controllers."

He pointed to the one she took, offering her the other one in his hand.

Prudence listened to Noah’s explanation and nodded. “Fishes, hm?” Didn’t sound very exciting, but then again, she wasn’t one easily excited. She would have liked to just watch the boy messing around with the set instead of being the player, but it would seem strange to deny now. After all, it was just a game while they waited for Thaddeus. There were worst things he could ask her to do in the meantime, like a dreadful bonding session or something.

Warily, she put on the headset, and took the other controller from Noah. As her vision was completely obscured, she warned, “You should step back, I don’t want to hit you by accident.” Though she doubted she would be able to hurt him badly.

With the controller in hand, she pointed at the continue button before her and pressed. The scene resumed and her vision was at once filled with a murky underwater color. The attention to the detail: the texture of the cage’s material, the reaching light shafts from somewhere above her head – were all too convincing. It was less like a simulation and more like she had been momentarily transported to a real location under the sea.

“This is more realistic than I expected,” she said out loud. She should have though, judging from the appearance of his home, Thaddeus would only pay for the best stuff.

She turned her head as the cage descended, and the view changed to follow her perspective. The refresh rate was almost perfect. Not even one tearing or lagging occurred.

Far below her, a large structure began to emerge, large and darkly. A shipwreck it seemed. Noah did mention that it was just a demo, and if that was really the case then she didn’t have to expect much. Just had to let it play out then when it was all over express her amazement, and something like how she would like to try it again sometime. But in truth, Prudence couldn’t see much point in this kind of game. If you wanted to see the ocean, why not just pay for a trip yourself? There were plenty of oceans on earth to pick from.

Suddenly her wandering thoughts were interrupted. A dark, moving shape appeared from afar. It was getting closer. And bigger. When it was almost right next to the cage she was locked in. The thing had become enormous in size, from its head to tail. It began to circle the cage, a shark. She turned to follow the fish’s movement. It was fake, of course, and this was all a game. But it was also too realistic, the fluid movements of its fins and tail and how its tiny black eyes looked back at her had quickened her heart rate.

“I’m seeing a big shark…” she said. Though she couldn’t see or hear Noah anyway, voicing her thoughts reminded her where she was in reality and that there was someone close by. It was a bit reassuring even if the other Weapon were not all that…

“Eep!” Prudence reacted violently the moment the shark broke from its circling routine and dove in for the attack. It hit the cage. Its sharp teeth bit on it. Without thinking, the girl dropped the pair of controllers from her both hands. Her left morphed into a shield. She struck it on its nose with all she could. But there was nothing. And the shark kept gnawing at the cage.

Like he knew would happen, Prudence didn’t seem to be too enticed in the game. It was just a demo after all. Not really any fanfare, but he was a little surprised that she said it was so realistic. Huh, must’ve been better than the other one he used long ago. He watched her tense as she said there was a big shark. He stood right in front of her with a big smirk on his face, making sure she didn’t hit the table in front of her once it did attack and completely disregarding her warning from earlier. He focused his weapon transformation on his wrist, his wrist protruding a tonfa from the side of his arm. When he heard what sounded like a short squeal, he watched her hands. They dropped the controllers. Then a partial shield.

With one of his hands, he reached for the headset as he blocked the hit with his tonfa with a harsh grunt, plucking the headset right off her head and pulling her away from the attacking shark. An uncomfortable tinge of pain shot through his arm and into his shoulder from the shock. He’s going to need to work out more. Still he had a bit of a playful smirk on his face, smug as if he just finally got a reaction out of this seemingly emotionless woman. He watched to make sure she knew where she was before patting her on the shoulder, his tonfa disappearing into his arm. “Just wanted to make sure ya ‘re human.”

What a dick he was being. But it was kind of funny.

He plucked the remotes from the floor. “Ah, I also kinda forgot there’s a shark. Heh, whoops.” He didn’t apologize, mainly because he wasn’t actually sorry. He completely knew the shark was there too, so he just lied, holding a goofy smile as duper’s delight took residence on his face. He watched her warily with a challenging smirk, hoping she didn’t punch him. He had enough beatings from Sara whenever he scared her to file a domestic abuse case and call animal control to put down a raging mutt.

Prudence regained her composure a few seconds after. Then it was not very visible, but there was a vague scowl of irritation on her face. Looking at Noah merrily went on to pick up the remotes, she somewhat believed in his claim of having innocently forgotten about what seemed like a significant part of the whole demo. If there was any suspicion that it was all intentional, she did not show it. But what irritated her was her own childish overreaction. She should have known better. And she did know it was just a game. It could be that the calming start of the demo had lulled her into relaxation and dropped her guard just enough to catch her without it.

Noah simply continued watching with that mischievous smirk before putting on the headset, hoping Prudence didn’t get him back. If she were Sara, he’d have to lock himself in his room if he wanted to make sure she didn’t get him back. He just hoped Prudence didn’t end up getting a feel for pranks, but if she was going to pick up on certain aspects, she might do so if he kept it up. Still, this aspect of Prudence wasn’t made aware to Noah as of yet, so he simply went back into the VR, only to jump and squeal like a girl from the shark as the demo continued playing. Everything looked so real, no wonder why she had such a reaction. He let out an embarrassed, nervous chuckle as he exited out to the menu and picked an actual game, the TV displaying whatever he saw. “Ah… That’s uh… Yeah, I can see why now. Terrifying.”

He finally ended that, opting to play a VR game about boxing. The person in front of him looked comically more buff with his yellow boxing gloves, and it made the situation even more funny that Noah’s muscle build can be comparable to a stick. Still, it was something he didn’t mind learning how to train his form, even if it doesn’t actually work like that. He realized golfing in a game didn’t actually equate to real life golfing and if it did it was marginal at best. He’ll just have to do what he had and hopefully his interest in the game disappeared before Gauss returned. He didn’t want to be given a lesson on how to actually fight.

That would be hella embarrassing, but karma may not be so nice.

Looking at Noah squirming when the demo resumed, and then going on to play a boxing game, Prudence sat back on one of the loveseats and relaxed. Though she was no fan of his prank from before, if it was really one, the boy seemed easy to get along with. And perhaps it was this laid-back personality of his that had caused her to be less on edge and slipped out an emotional response. If so then she wouldn’t have to exert too much energy to maintain a friendly partnership with him. On the contrary, it seemed the less she tried the easier it would be to match his temperament. She had to be careful though. It was always a struggle for her to keep a good and friendly appearance with whoever her partners currently were.

@Mqueserasera Sir Les Paul

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Jarvis Briseis - DWMA, Library

Seeing Zari pout was—admittedly—a little amusing, though unlike Raphael, Jarvis didn’t let it show on his face. ‘Don’t touch me’ and ‘Don’t piss me off’ sounded to him like reasonable demands, so if not for the regretful ‘please’ at the end, it wouldn’t have been obvious to the young bloodsucker that his partner was struggling to hold himself back. To keep the rage contained…especially when a bookshelf fell over. Jarvis’s eyes briefly darted to the source of the disturbance before returning his gaze to the meister that was pinching the bridge of his nose in…exhaustion? Frustration?

“You alright?” Hand still on Zari’s shoulder, Jarvis’s grip tightened slightly, not enough to be painful, but enough to offer support should it be needed. There was nothing Jarvis could do to assist Zari against his madness—at least, not unless they interacted on the soul level…which would be much easier if they linked up as meister and weapon. However, he could at least keep the boy from harming others should he lose the struggle against his own darkness. Perhaps physical contact might help. Perhaps not. The only thing Jarvis currently knew—or rather just learned—about Zari’s madness was that it did not like vandalism or the destruction of another’s property. Fair. Jarvis didn’t like it either (though he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). However, the madness didn’t seem to differentiate between accidental destruction and malicious intentions. It didn’t care about the situation. It only wanted to remove what it (and Zari) didn’t like with righteous anger.

At least, that was what it seemed like from Jarvis's brief observations.

Following the gesture of support with several sympathetic pats at Zari’s apparent struggle to keep himself together, Jarvis slipped his hand back into his pocket when it looked like Zari wasn’t going to bite the head off (or possibly attack) the klutzy girl who looked like she was about to cry. Probably. If not, keeping away, at least temporarily, was probably best. “People are gonna piss you off in life. All the time.” Jarvis shrugged. “Sometimes not even intentionally. You understand yourself better than I do so it’s your call how you want to handle it…but you don’t get better at dealing with people by avoiding them.”

Spoken from experience. Not that Jarvis really had any right to say that given his lifestyle the past 10 years, but…eh. He wasn’t a teacher. Safest thing to do when giving advice, or attempting to help a mad meister, was just to echo what Atli–who lived in his soul–would’ve said.

Because reasoning with a mad individual totally made sense.

Jarvis yawned. “As annoying as the fun-loving, chain sorcerer is for example, his offer would expedite things. Up to you. But if you have any questions about Bloodsuckers, you can ask me--a living, non-breathing Bloodsucker. Some of DWMA’s books are probably a bit prejudiced on that subject.”

Then again, Jarvis could hardly be counted as the quintessential bloodsucker.

Raphael’s comment regarding Zari’s wavelength suggested that the sorcerer was quite sensitive to the leech that was his partner’s fiery soul—or experienced it firsthand when the blonde grabbed him. Jarvis, for his part, might’ve felt…something…but it was hard to say since he was always tired and the meister seemed to have a solid enough control over his wavelength so as not to have it affect allies. At least, that was what Jarvis assumed. ‘Breath-taking’ really only applied to those that breathed and, to be frank, Jarvis wasn’t sensitive enough to natural wavelength unless he focused, it came in especially high quantities, or was being blared out like a siren.

He also assumed that Chanterelle had been referring to Zari’s wavelength when she singled him out…but apparently she’d been referring to her own internal toxin? Note to self: Don’t drink her blood. Not that Jarvis had any intention to do so since the witch’s blood smelled a little foul to him. It wasn’t something he deemed worth bringing up though…because he had tact he supposed. Just as he had enough tact not to stare or draw attention to the clearly embarrassed girl who bowled over a bookshelf, spilling books everywhere. Assholes would’ve laughed. The courteous ones would assist. Jarvis would’ve just looked away. Looking away from things that didn’t involve him or the people he cared about—whether it was homelessness or another bloodsucker dining—had almost become a habit for him at this point. Additional work was a bother. Risked getting them tied with the ‘troublemaker’ that made a mess in the library as well. If not for the Maiden stepping in, Jarvis probably wouldn’t have assisted the stranger despite what he’d told Zari. One of the ‘benefits’ of being a Bloodsucker, which Jarvis found annoying more often than not because he like sleep, was excellent hearing

‘Friends’ Maiden had said. Even though they really only just met this morning.

Jarvis wasn’t so socially inept that he’d missed the increase in volume as the blue-haired guy indirectly addressed them either. He rolled his eyes. Now if they ignored the Iron Maiden, walked away from the stranger, they’d either not look like ‘friends’ or they’d look like assholes…especially since Raphael and Chanterelle joined to help as well. Pretending to not notice only worked when it wasn’t called out, after all…and while he personally didn’t care how he looked to others…it’d probably make things awkward later. Maiden was a classmate after all. Part of ‘Team Midori’ as well.

Glancing to Zari, then back to Maiden, Jarvis sighed. What was a friend anyway? He watched the trio interact–weapon, witch, and sorcerer–working together to straighten the bookshelf up…though, strength-wise, the witch seemed perfectly capable of doing it on her own. Not surprising given she’d managed to knock over the bookcase while it was laden and weighed down by many, many books. Tall though it may be, a case emptied of much of its contents ought weigh less (though the force required to lift was probably greater than the force required to knock something over). Heck, even Maiden could probably do it with his flaring wavelength amplifying his strength, albeit a bit awkwardly. Very touching example of three different races working together though. He might’ve joined them if he didn’t think it was unnecessary, what with the witch doing the pushing, the Maiden doing the lifting, and the sorcerer doing the pulling.

Unnecessary work was a pain.

Surely three people was enough to do a single person’s job, right? (Single for Jarvis at any rate)

Therefore, lazily making his way over to the mess of many, many scattered books, Jarvis squatted down, picked one up, and quickly flipped through the pages before putting it in one of the neat piles–at least until the bookshelf was straightened. Frankly, cleaning was more tedious, hence more difficult, to Jarvis than quick and simple physical labor. Messes didn't really bother his eyes. However, given Zari's reactions thus far, he figured leaving this as they are might bother the meister, aggravating the madness a bit. "You definitely don't speak for me, Maiden. Friends or not, please don't expect too much. This isn't normal behavior for me."

Whether it was books off a floor or books on a shelf, he’d be going through them in his search…until he grew tired enough to close his eyes…anyway. Maybe he’d get brownie points for helping to clean the library while he was at it. How many books were there again? Jarvis slowly picked up another book. “If anyone sees a book on Calm, or Mind, or anything related, let me know...”

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"Irony is Fate's most common figure of speech.” ― Trevanian, Shibumia​

March 9th, 2067 | 1008

The morning of March Ninth was a slight rarity in Nevada. A light rain was drizzling throughout Death City with a gentle gray cloud front and it was a solid fifteen degrees cooler this morning than it would have been under regular circumstances. Luckily for Rand, Edie, and the others they were to mentor, he had reserved a section of the DWMA library dedicated to magical studies for his group. It was a fairly simple request. The library was huge and there were multiple dedicated study rooms one could apply for, if they knew how to acquire the correct form and whom to turn it in to. While the light downpour outside genuinely wouldn't have stopped them from actually proceeding with any real training, the first meeting being conducted while being soaked was likely not an ideal circumstance.

Himself, Rand was sitting at one of the dark oak tables made for study with his feet propped up listening to music with a set of headphones in. Sony WG-1200BC7, to be specific, if anyone cared. One of their higher-end magitech models with all of the wonderful features they packed. They could act as bone conductive with one setting or create noise-cancelling air pockets with another to act as fully closed earphones with a sound stage almost unparalleled by even the highest quality sets from just a few decades ago. Magitech had truly brought out the best in technology that had seemingly plateaued honestly not that long ago.

And, while Rand had been sitting there a good forty minutes or so, he had intentionally kept his headphones on their bone conductive setting so that he could hear every little thing going on around him. He hadn't responded to anyone that had greeted him up until this point, intentionally acting like he was completely lost in the world of his music. Rand wanted to see what his group would do without the input from someone they thought their superior, so he didn't identify himself in his text to his agents. Nor did he Edie, wherever she may be. Instead, he gave his group a simple set of instructions:

'Fate Agents of Group B-01 are to meet within the DWMA Library in Room F at exactly 10:00 AM. Do not be late. Failure to comply will be met with moving to another B group in the later weeks.'​

Current Song
​

Kyuubey Merciless Medic Prizzy Kriyze The Regal Rper Mineczka RedArmyShogun Meredith

 

[The Regal Rper]

Part 1
Zosar & Adrasteia

Each soul had its own language. Each took time to decipher. There were those like Emira, Midori, even Lord Death whose souls were hard or near impossible to properly read, deciphered in a different way. Few and rare to find, not many the former mercenary could say he had faced. Then there were the new books you got. Out of all the languages he knew, German was still a work in progress. Sometimes it took a bit of rereading, but he believed with enough time, it'd be easy to read her like he had them.

Them being his old partners- not the ones he'd be assigned to but his real ones.

The whole time he'd been talking he'd been paying close attention to the movement of her soul. It was impolite to look at others' souls outside of missions and without permission, but Zosar honestly couldn't have cared about etiquette or manners at this moment. He'd never told a soul he used Perception a lot to read people's true intents and meanings and he wouldn't be telling Adra ever if he had a say. Which, thankfully, he did.

As she responded he noted the flare in her fury, the shift in her stance, what her body language was warning him.

He matched it with a cross of his arms and relaxed stance topped with his hip cocked. A sign to her he was just being casual and she need not be so ready to pounce in the worst of ways.

Why so guarded, why so much hate? So much disdain. Did she really hate this partnership that much?

If she did she would have said something or rejected his proposal. Somewhere, there must be a part of her that wants or is aware she needs a partner. Yet she's so fucking tense, so uptight she's not leaving any openings.

"Board games sound fine. If not that I know an arcade place not too far away. Couldn't hurt to sneak off, sneak back, but I'll leave that up to you. Got no clue how far out we can go but I doubt it matters else Midori would have said it." He beamed at her.

What had she and Midori been talking about earlier while he'd been struggling with Em's wavelength?

Missed opportunities. Vital information he could have used. It's too late now.

Perhaps now was not the time to poke the bear. But if she kept showing these signs of disdain, he'd stop dodging this inevitable topic, and just get straight to the point to see whether all of this was worth it after all.

"So what board games do you like? Or has that arcade suggestion sounded more appealing?" He casted a glance as he asked.

Adrasteia just watched him, taking not of his change of stance before he had spoken. He was… dancing. Not literally, but it didn’t take a genius to see he was moving the conversation smoothly around.

He is insightful…. Great.

“Arcade is fine, I doubt we have limits on travel, seems the program cut us loose for a day or so.” In contrast to the meister, Adrasteia was practically blind to the sixth sense. She had no way of perceiving another’s soul unless she resonated with them. This left her out of a lot of pertinent information, stuff Zosar had access to, but she never seemed to care what she missed. She instead relied on her other senses and how people reacted to her to judge them. Whether this forceful way of judging was indicative of her forceful empath ability or it was a side effect? Who could say.

“Sweet. If you’ll follow me I think I know a way we can get there quickly.”

---

They’d taken a bus on their own whim. The idea of using his own car, or his bike, given how things were currently between them just seemed like a horrific idea. He didn’t mind pushing the envelope, going beyond to get under someone’s skin and get a read- but there were also limits on how far to go. On the bus ride over, Zosar had simply allowed Adra to do as she pleased. There’d been no questions, no attempts at trying to get her into a conversation, he’d been silent. Not to the point of ignoring her. There were times she might’ve noticed, or perhaps imagined it since he never was spotted actually glancing her way, to have been sneaking peeks at her. In truth though he had been using his soul perception and the proximity of where they sat in general to feel the state of her soul. Get that sense of what she was feeling as they journeyed towards their destination.

Luckily, or unluckily, she didn’t notice Zosar’s glances. She in fact had resigned to looking away during the bus ride, not wanting to look or initiate conversation. That gave him ample time to see her soul is rather unenthused. Not much one could do, so it was rather mute.


Can’t believe I let myself end up in this… the fucking program really wants to test my patience.

Upon spotting they were close, he tapped the alarm button on his seat’s armrest, and the bus came to a slow stop at the next stop.

By simply crossing the street after both had gotten off, the duo entered the town square. Brick pavement and carefully attended gardens decorated the path, with a statue of Lord Death the First, standing tall in display- arms spread wide, a welcoming disposition.

This place was familiar to Adra, or at least it had been. It was a popular mall center not far from DWMA, with different businesses scattered all around- it was hard to miss, and even less likely to have not been to at least once. The area had been one of Samsen’s places he would hang out a lot, the meister enjoying the social aspect to it. Adrasteia was just dragged along, like an accessory.

Yet surprisingly, it wasn’t the mall center they aimed for, it was just past that and even further. Down the brick road, taking a right past a series of food centers, essentially the outlier of all the business, was one tall, decorated building that led up to its entrance with a small ramp that factored in the disabled, and a series of stairs.

The sign above was off, but the electric colors, giant font, and bold letters made it hard to miss. Video game symbols of different kinds popping up from behind it.

“Here we are, Palooza Central. Let’s head inside.”

And with a push of the doors, they entered a carpeted mini-hall, blue lights replacing the natural early afternoon rays.


Grabbing the handle Zosar glanced at Adrasteia as if he had just recalled something important. “Right, music can get a bit loud in here, just letting you know. It fades when you get into the actual gaming zone.”

Whatever that meant.

The door opened, and the tunes blew right in as he walked ahead and spoke to the four people standing ahead, nearby the door. All of them were wearing some unique assembly of DWMA attire in a formal way.

The exchange was short, but it ended amicably with Zosar dragging Adra, metaphorically, along with him past the four security guards he’d just exchanged greetings with as if they were all old friends.

Just as they were reaching the stairs, a beat suddenly hit the air.

​

“Welcome to Palooza Central folks, I see we got ourselves an early crowd here, hope you guys have a blast before rush hour hits! HAHA!”​

Adrasteia had expected some regular arcade center here, but she’d never been to the Palooza Central. The dimly lit atmosphere and the faint lights above shed light on the slightly brighter lounging area for people to talk; various DWMA Agents, EAT and NOT, mage, meister, weapon, even regular civilian folk, chatting and talking; waiters and waitresses moving between tables and taking orders where some groups sat when one called out. Adra had no time to further watch them as she and Zosar moved away from the entrance, and moved further past what looked to be an actual pit for dancing below, where the DJ could be found. The source of the music. Long reduced to a more bearable volume but still loud enough to be heard given the acoustics of the building.

“Our destination’s up ahead.” Zosar said to her in a voice no louder than when they’d entered. In fact he didn’t even have to as they moved past the lounging area and the dance pit towards the might dimmer, larger gaming center.

“We traveled enough I would hope. Not exactly my scene…” She couldn’t fake optimism, it just wasn’t enough energy in her social battery to really maintain that. Instead she spoke how she felt since the football event. Skeptical. Only thing that changed was the focus of her skepticism, and right now Zosar held it.

“Well, maybe you’ll have a change of heart once we get to the actual games.” He stated just as they were stepping foot onto checkerboard tile floors and the first row of arcade systems adjacent to the wall.

As they entered the checkerboard floor, a sign above Gamer’s Land flashed into existence, holographic, illusions undoubtedly, before disappearing as they passed underneath it.

Already Zosar began scoping out a game of some sort that they could play. Gamer’s Land wasn’t as crowded as a place like this should’ve been. There were people present but not enough for it to be truly considered busy. So the options were many at the moment. Zosar however was looking for the right one. Adra would probably just give him the answer to pick whatever he wanted if he asked her what she was interested in. He knew she wouldn’t tell him. She practically had no interest in even really being here and the skepticism she held within her was as clear as day to him. She needed something interesting. Something that could let her cut loose.

His eyes honed in on the perfect target, and immediately he was walking towards it. A large plasma screen, 62 inch plasma screen TV sat on a stand in front of two step stations with mute hued pads of different colors. The game showed brief trailers of what it had intended for any willing to play it. Dancers moving in beat to the lit pads, dancing to whatever song was on the beat.

“Beat Domination” Zosar said, taking a stand at one of the two step stations. “Interested in trying it?” He asked with a raised brow.

Adrasteia had been watching the large device when they had come upon it, her yellow eyes reflecting the lights in them as they took in the display. A faint spark lit up in them, but excitement wasn’t what she held. In fact it was even less emotion than before, now more neutral than negative. She blinked steadily as she watched it, almost not acknowledging the words of her partner. When she finally did answer she gave him a slight shrug, looking at the meister finally. “…. Sure. You’re paying though.”

He grinned. “Of course, I planned on it.” In a flash, wavelength flared and in a burst of speed- he was gone and back in just under a minute.To Adra it was a bit unnecessary to do this so fast, but the fact it sped up the waiting time for him to return she didn't comment on it.

Raising the stack of coins, he gave her share, took his, and then moved straight towards the step station on the right while he booted the game up and waited for her to join. Once she joined with some limited enthusiasm, Zosar began flicking through songs. However after glancing at Adra, he paused…and then held the controller remote to her. “You pick. Whatever difficulty you want. Not sure how much you’ve played this before but I’m all for anything you throw at me.” He shook it in the air, prompting her to take it.

Her eyes watched the controller, staring at it with contemplation. Did she want to grab it? Would it reveal something she didn’t want to share if she picked something? He was temporary, as a partner… right? Why show him anything personal like music choice?

Then again, why the fuck should she care what anyone thought. She grabbed the controller with ease after that thought, huffing internally at her worries. Unaware of the very subtle twitch at his lips when she took it before it vanished. She scrolled for a bit, going down the list a bit too quick which hinted she was looking for a specific song. Before long she selected something, a song named ‘Ain’t Seen Nothing Like This.” The difficulty was separated into four categories of easy, medium, hard, and insane.

Boy probably has the rhythm of a kid…. But fuck him he said I choose.

A brow went up when he saw her move towards Insane, the highest difficulty in the game. His expression read: Seriously, but when she saw her ignore him and continue, he nodded and shrugged.

Alright. Bet.

She moved and selected Insane, putting the controller back before grabbing her long braid and gently wrapping it around her neck like a scarf. Her bells softly jostled during this, now resting near her chest as she looked at the screen. The song was bouncy, something almost opposite of the negative and grumpy weapon. She didn’t show much of any emotion on her face, only half focused and half unfocused daydream as the flurry of steps appeared.

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[Sir Les Paul]

"Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson​

March 9th, 2067 | 1248

The evening prior, Midori had sent two messages. The first was a simple one that confirmed his set of students from group A-01 would be dubbed "Team Arrow" for the sake of brevity. He didn't like the idea of naming them after himself. He also had plenty to do as... everything else that was to preoccupy his time needed space. This, at the very last, gave him plenty of time to reach out to some contacts and do some research in regards to what was currently available for his team to do. This lead to his second text.

1742 Mido: We'll meet at a coffee shop on Main Street East called hollowed grounds. We will have a real dwma mission. Forecast calls for light rain and we will begin the mission same day so prepare yourselves accordingly. Make it by 1PM or earlier if everyone arrives​

Hollowed Grounds was actually a fairly popular little coffee shop on Main. It was a little gothic in nature, but it fit the extremely strong themes Death City well which were most obvious on Main Street, some of the residential areas, and obviously the historical areas. It was well known for a variety of blends from cheap, but still tasty roasts to a few more expensive imports. Variety was key there. A coffee snob likely wouldn't turn their nose up, but a penny pinching student could definitely also afford a nice cup. That combined with literal generations of being in the DWMA as a popular little spot for students and faculty alike made it more than just a quaint historical business. It also explained why it was relatively large with a decent non-drink menu for a place primarily considered a coffee shop.

Midori arrived there alone, a good half hour or so before the designated period of 1PM. He reserved a corner side table large enough for all of them and set up some files and folders to distribute before they arrived. Not exactly fanned out, but ready to pass between once they arrived. He, of course, also ordered a cup of their Tora Tora blend, sweetened minimally, lightened with almond milk. One of his favorite beans he had tried from there using a Sulawesi Toraja base and some proprietary blending for a dark roast. Made out of... New York, if he remembered. It didn't matter to him, he just knew it was worth the higher price he paid for it.

With that, he sipped his coffee and waited, albeit anxiously. What he had set out for the team... didn't have him worried in the slightest. He did his due diligence the day before making sure that no matter what happened, he could keep them safe in the worst possible outcomes. The caffeine from the coffee isn't what had him anxious either. No... no, it was seeing Emira for the first time since Monday evening. Thus far, not even a text back. Just that last request for time after he left Emira and Cyrus after their alfredo dinner.

Nerves aside, he was there for the team. His team. They just... needed to show up. If at least one of them were there, or once one of the finally made it, he would have something else to focus on. Just hurry up. He did wonder who would arrive latest... Zosar was normally at least timely, Adrian was too competitive to be last, Zari seemed on point. Adra might drag behind, as per norm, but if she was Zosar, maybe not. Jarvis... yeah. Yeah, it would be Jarvis.


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