#Yoshiro only has eyes for you-know-who

[overtaken-stream]

``U`` in Art

Gn!Reader

! !NSFW! !

Find Urself a guy so enticed with U that he'll learn to draw hUman anatomy as correctly as possible, who gains an Understanding of color theory, who tries his hardest to shade the skin, who Uses coUntless references of different people from all aroUnd the world and pUts himself in a position where the simplest of insecUrities become beaUty in his eyes, so desensitized to the real world and the thoUghts of others. Only to draw U,,,,

U with the nervoUs glances, U with the sparks of confidence, U with smarts, U with the body that U possess, U with the glowing skin, U with blemishes, U with scars, U with the signatUre grin, U with tears of happiness, U with sadness inclosed, U with so mUch secrets, U with an open heart, U with stretch marks, U with colors of the rainbow, U with the natUre itself, U with the everlasting eyes that lead to Ur heart, U with silence, U,,,,U,,,

However, no amoUnt of skill can captUre the charm, no amoUnt of brUsh strokes can ever compare to the real U, no amoUnt of practice can portray the love he has 4 U, no amoUnt of stUdying will ever compare to the time he spent stUdying U. No canvass will fit the love he has 4 U.

None will be able to captUre U in a box of white. Yet he makes a fUtile effort with scenarios in his imagination that will never be accUrate. The jealoUsy that takes root has no reasons, nor is it based on reality, yet his thoUghts run wild, so does his imagination.

He fantasizes Until a piece is born, a piece entirely consUmed and concocted by lUst. Depicting U in Ur most vUlnerable state.

The gUilty heart thUmps against his ribs as he continUes to shade Ur bottom in tints he can only imagine the real thing is. The organ beats loUdly in his ears, flUshed with the act he refUses to halt, the pink hUe decorates his face the longer the stays in place. Addams apple moves along his gUlps of saliva as sweat travels down from his temple. Dry tongUe slides across his lips.

This piece will never be hUng on the walls, yet the shamefUl act of drawing lewd makes him freeze as if an aUdience is watching and observing. It woUld have been fine if not for the fact that Ur the one on display. It flares an Unpleasant emotion inside of him. Anger, jealoUsy. He is aware It's nonsensicle.

The way he shifts his arm is robotic and he gets lost in the colors, Until it's time to add the glint on Ur Sex, erm,,,, Ur sex from his fantasy anyway.

A thought rUns across his mind that stops him of filling you with colors.

And he debates for a second.

ShoUld he stain this already sedUctive piece with his colors filling the insides of you?

↳Noriaki Kakyoin, Rohan Kishibe (jjba), Yuuta Okkotsu(jjk), Portgas D. Ace, Sanji (op), Yushiro(kny), Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein(aot), Genos(opm), Shinji Ikari(ng:e), Tamaki Suoh(ohshc), Aquamarine Hoshino(oshi no ko), Kurapika Kurta, Leorio (hxh).

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Yandere Lady Tamayo (platonic)

Tamayo is pretty self aware, she knows none of her feelings or thoughts are necessarily right but in the end it comes down to what you need. And you need is her. Especially if you remind her of someone from her family, that will only fuel her obsession more.

She’ll care for you and keep you safe. You’d never have to worry about a thing with her around. She’ll make you feel loved and nurtured. Tamayo is so soft and gentle but she can be stern when you try and go against her word. She’s just trying to keep you safe after all. Don’t you trust her?

You’ll have freedom but she keeps a very close eye on you. But the rare occurrence she can’t then she’ll have Yushiro stick to your side. She doesn’t want to keep you hidden away, on the contrary she wants you to live your fullest life doing as you please but with Muzan after her she fears for your safety.

She is so frighteningly gentle with you, like she could break you if she isn’t careful enough and she could. But she would never do something like that, never. She adores you, loves you even. Your someone very important to her and she holds you close and dear to her.

If anything were to ever happen to you, whether it was something she could have prevented or not, Tamayo would blame herself. She feels responsible for you and that includes your pain. If it got to the point where you were dying, that may be the one and only time Tamayo wouldn’t ask your permission to change you. She feels liable for your situation and how little you truly got to live. It may be selfish but she reasons that you deserve more.

It is said that Tamayo had a much more cruel and malicious disposition earlier on after being turned into a demon and the massacre of her family. She has since pushed back those thoughts and feelings, saving them all for Muzan but there are times when you’re involved that she has let a sliver of that old personality come back. Particularly if another demon tries to harm you. Once her eyes land on you though, she’s back to being gentle and chiding you for not having listened to her but it’s nothing compared to how she treated that other demon moments ago. (Could you imagine how she would be if Muzan took an interest in you?!?!)

Now, Yoshiro isn’t necessarily happy about how close you are with Lady Tamayo but he can’t deny how happy she is to have you. He’s weary of you if only because of how fond Lady Tamayo is towards you, otherwise he doesn’t mind you. But any mistreatment or offhand comment he throws your way and Lady Tamayo is on him in an instant, reprimanding him. She’s no where like she has been towards the ones who have tried to come after you. No, The worst she does is make him apologize until she feels it’s enough, but from then on he would never do that again.

Once she has successfully changed you, she’ll be by your side throughout the whole process. Her and Yoshiro helping you come to terms with being a demon and just how to control yourself. Tamayo will ask, more like order, Yoshiro to stay with you at all times when she can’t. It will stay much like it was when you were human but with an added need to keep an eye on you. She took it upon herself to save you, whether you wanted to be a demon or not, and that means she’s not going to allow you to lose your humanity.

Even if you hate her, Tamayo will be the same with you as she was when you were human. She’ll still be as gentle and caring as ever unless she needs to use a little more force. She also has the help of her blood art and you are no exception to that. Tamayo will put you under her spell whenever she believes necessary, especially if only to keep you more cooperative. She doesn’t want to lock you up, she’s never wanted to do that to you but she can’t have you trying to fight her either.

She will work even harder to find a cure now that you’re a demon too. She doesn’t regret changing you whatsoever, she just couldn’t allow you to die. Not after she’s lost so much already. But that doesn’t mean she won’t try her hardest to make you human once more. If that’s what you really want.

(Spoiler) When Tamayo does inevitably die, her last thoughts would be hoping that you could be happy, that you would come to understand why she had to save you and to not hold it against her. She could finally and hopefully be reunited with her family again and maybe one day you.

As for Yoshiro, no matter what you decide; whether to stay living as a demon or to become human again, he may just stay with you. After all, you’re all he has left after Lady Tamayo and your the closest thing he has to a friend.

[bardicfoxes]

[D&D] Sastasha Levelileur Demanx - Rogue

Sastasha is one of my favourite characters I’ve ever written up. My first attempt at playing a rogue after years of being infatuated by dashing highwaymen, Assassins creeping through the shadows, and thieves pulling off the impossible heists. Unlike many of my characters, Sasha’s life events were rolled for using the character generation tables in the Dungeon Masters Guide which is why her story is particularly long. Sasha is still with me (If temporarily unavailable due to a deck of many things accident...void card...) and her story has only grown in time, stories I would like to write up at some point. Anyway enjoy my wonderful Rogue girl!

War has been nature for living beings since the dawn of time, sometimes loud, brash, and overt, others silent, subtle, carried out in the shadows. Deep in the forests, hidden from the eyes of mere men, the Elvish waywatchers of Athel Loren battled the bestial tribes that inhabited the forest they called home. Many beast tribes were crushed beneath the martial prowess of the Elves. Dryad, Satyr, Gorgan, all were felled. However one tribe proved too cunning, too quick, and too sly to be destroyed quite so easily. For over a hundred years, the Kitsune ran rings around the Elves, able to melt into the forest, whisper into the ears of generals, and strike from anywhere, they proved themselves more than a match for the Elves.

As in any war, each side had its key players, many a battle had been won with the sheer prowess, accuracy, and skill displayed by Kerillian Aidenish, lieutenant of a squad of elite Elvish archers, and trackers, conversely the Kitsunes had dealt near crippling blows to Elvish supply lines, and reinforcements with the cunning, guile, and daring antics of Takeda Yoshiro, roguish thief turned saboteur. Both Kerillian, and Takeda always seemed to find themselves two sides of the same coin, Kerillian would diligently follow the trail of Takeda, who in turn would loop, and twist in order to strike behind her lines. The pair crossed blades many on many occasions, their battles being recounted in stories time, after time, sometimes Kerillian would loose an arrow into Takeda, sometimes Takeda would catch Kerillian in an explosion, neither seeming to ever truly defeat the other.

The seasons rolled on, Spring into Summer, Summer to Autumn, and Autumn cascading into Winter. One Winter was particularly colder than others, blizzards pinning down entire armies, and burying the forest in a suffocating blanket of snow, and chilling sheets of ice. Colder than any Winter before it, Elf, and Kitsune fell to the cold, those strong enough to resist being driven into caves, sheltering from the elements. For the first time in over two centuries, the shadow war for the forest stopped…

In a strange turn of circumstance, both Kerillian, and Takeda found themselves separated from their allies, and trapped within the same cave network. The pair hunted one another, sparring all throughout the day, and night, clashing to an exhausted standstill. Without food, water, and warmth, they would both perish, and so an uneasy alliance between the pair formed. With her natural Elvish atunement to nature, and it’s magics, Kerillian fashioned them warmth, and shelter within the cave, and with the trademark penchant for luck, and perception Takeda possessed, he provided food, and water, through gathering, and hunting even despite the conditions. At first the pair was silent, weapons remained drawn and the taught thickness of mistrust hung over the makeshift home, however as the days stretched into weeks, which stretched further into months, even these vicious enemies began to talk, both longing for even the most base social contact. The hate they once held for each other became an uneasy relationship of sorts, which in the darkest, coldest night, when food ran scarce, and ice clawed at even the deepest parts of the cave, became an odd sort of Love. By the light of their flickering campfire, Kerillian Aidenish, and Takeda Yoshiro consummated their relationship.

As the blizzard finally rolled past, and Spring sunshine pierced the permafrost coating every tree, both Elf, and Kitsune began to feel the pull of war once more, with supplies lower than they’d ever been both factions were determined to become the dominant residents of this vast forest. Within their cave, even Kerillian, and Takeda began to grow weary of each other's presence, their love turning toxic as their dependence on each other waned, one morning Kerillian awoke to find Takeda gone, he had vanished into the night, Kerillian while thankful her throat had not been slit, cursed his name and their hunt began again. This time however, Kerillian felt a tug against her talents, like something was holding her back, concerned her unit coerced her into seeing a healer, who gave news that Kerillian would rather have never received, she was with child, two in fact, Kerillian was holding twins… No one dared question who the father was for fear of invoking the her wrath, but as no man came forward, rumors began to spread. Removed from the front lines for the safety of her children, Kerillian found herself taking care of menial tasks, her responsibilities dwindling as she became more heavily pregnant with each day. When the children were due, Kerillian chose to give birth in secret, with only a handful of her most trusted handmaidens by her side.

In the middle of the night, Kerillian gave birth, the children's names leaving her lips before she even set eyes upon them “Calcifer, Sastasha” she whispered to a Handmaiden as she shut her eyes, she couldn’t bare to look upon her children, Elves were pure in nature, untainted by lesser beings, lying with a human was one thing, but lying with a beast man of the forest, was one of the greatest dishonours she could have brought upon herself. Finally she opened her eyes and gazed upon her children. She noted dark hair, nothing like her own, a soft rounded face, reminding her not of her own sharp features, and to her disappointment, and the horror of the Handmaidens around her a pair of dark midnight ears, and a sleek black tails… Too much of a fox to be raised amongst Elves, and far too much of an Elf to be raised amongst Kitsune, Kerillian, and her Handmaidens pledged to keep the children a secret, the infant Calcifer, and Sastasha would be smuggled out of the forest, and disposed of, while everyone else would be told the infants had perished during birth.

And so, the same night, Kerillian’s most trusted Handmaiden Arryn Demanx, took the child under her cloak, and journeyed for three nights, in order to reach the edge of the forest, however as she stood, dagger in hand, she could not bring herself to execute an innocent child, she rationalised that neither Calcifer, nor Sastasha had chosen the controversy of their births, why should they receive punishment for it. Instead, Arryn took pity on them, if the beings of the forest couldn’t raise her, then perhaps the beings of the towns, and cities could. Arryn traveled further not to the first closest settlement, not to the second, but to the third, a city. The chances of the children ever finding their way back to the hidden Elvish city was minute. Sastasha was left in a basket alone, swaddled in cloth at the foot of the stone steps to a temple, men of God seemed to attract an abundance of unwanted children after all. Arryn left a note on the basket, weighed down with an Elvish Kukri which read Abandoned out of circumstance, we have left Sastasha Leveileur Demanx in your care, may you care for her more than we could...

-A But of course Sastasha, knew none of this.

---

Sastasha grew up under the tutelage of the temples various preachers, and clergymen, she learnt how to read, and write, and for the most part, kept herself busy with chores, after chores, after chores. What little time she did get for herself was spent kicking her heels in her room, or playing by herself. The people of the city of Anordal were a varied people, vast spires from the free mages college stretched into the sky, overseeing the rich markets, and magical item workshops. Despite this, Half-Kitsune such as Sastasha were rare, and as of such, she found the children around her would exclude her, to them she was weird, and foreign. With no friends to play with, Sastasha found herself wandering the halls of the temple, she would climb the belfry, or sit behind the altar listening to the organ. In fact it was during one of her sit ins to the music that the Organist called her over “Skulking in shadows” he asked as he played, Sastasha paused warily, people normally only spoke to her with cutting jibes, or to tell her she hadn’t been paying attention in her studies, however the organist seemed different “Just listening” she replied inquisitively truth be told she’d never really considered the organist existed, he rarely seemed to do anything other than play “Listening and skulking” he smiled, his teeth crooked “Good skills” he said with an added mutter “Malik Uredi” he introduced himself, never ceasing his playing, Sastasha frowned “Sastasha Leveilleur Demanx” before noting Malik’s own frown, her name was a bit of a mouthful “Sasha works though” she added before pausing for a beat “People don’t normally talk to me” she mentioned, her inquisitive nature showing. Malik mused for a second “Hm, and why do you think that is” he asked with a small smile, Sastasha frowned again “Well you know, because of how I look” she mentioned, her hand trailing through her hair, and touching the two soft ears that sat atop her head, she had taken to covering them with a hood, and tucking her brushy tail under her clothes, and around her waist. For the first time since their conversation began Malik stopped and chuckled “Sasha was it” he asked as he turned to her “Your appearance is of little consideration to me” he chuckled throatily as he gazed upon her, his eyes a sickly, milky white, he was blind.

Sastasha found herself making firm friends with Malik, helped by the fact he was the only person who would engage her socially, however on days when Malik was busy, or not there, Sastasha would wander the district in her free time, getting to know every street, every stall, and every secret alleyway. For a growing girl, with precious little to do, sometimes fun came from the most unusual places. The first time Sastasha picked a pocket was on a particularly sunny day, her lessons had been cancelled, and Malik was away, and most importantly, she was bored. Sastasha had an affinity with all things shiny, she coveted the glint of gold, or the shine of silver, and on this day, the sun caught the metallic shine of a golden pocket watch just right. Sastasha was filled with want as she watched it hang from the side of the large bestial man, it looked so delicate, and the clasp was so small, surely it wouldn’t be hard to. There was a dull click as Sastasha pulled her fingers over the clasp, and lifted the watch gently out of the man's pocket, her movements disguised by the jostling crowd, and her identity concealed by her cloaked androgynous appearance, once the watch was stowed safely in her pouch, she melted away into the crowd, and scurried off to the nearest alleyway, heart pounding against her chest. Sastasha clutched the pocket watch in her hands, it was beautiful, ornate, and meticulously polished, but most importantly, it was now hers. Sastasha took to her new hobby with gusto, her quick fingers, and delicate form making the art of pick pocketing as easy as anything, she started small, coins, loose buttons, jewelry, before moving bigger, entire money purses, pouches, jewelry, even taking things from market stalls, and on occasion slipping through open windows, and into peoples homes.

One morning, Sastasha was chatting with Malik, when he mentioned his birthday had been a week ago, Sastasha scolded him “If I’d known I would have got you something, she grumbled. Malik chuckled darkly “Oh my dear, I covet no material possessions” he rambled as he played “Although” he paused “I’ve always had a fondness for wine” he added guiltily. Sastasha sulked “I could have gotten you wine” she remarked, Malik sighed “Not the stuff you can buy in the market, I prefer something far more eclectic” he shuffled in his seat slightly, licking his lips as he remembered his choice wine “Fion Scathithe” he smiled softly “Elvish in nature, very old, very sweet, and very expensive” the thin man chuckled “You’d never be able to get your hands on any”. Sastasha frowned, something in her pulled, she was used to people telling her she couldn’t do something but this? This felt different “What makes you say that” she retorted indignantly, ignoring the explanation that Malik attempted to give “I’ll sort you something out” she smirked, before spinning on her heel, and leaving the building.

Sastasha scoured the city for the name ‘Fion Scathithe’ merchants, traders, and even smugglers turned nothing up, however there was one place she hadn’t yet checked. In the centre of Anordal lay the airship dock, where vast airships from Heavantis, bellies full of tradeable cargo from across the continent would dock, and sell their wares. Sastasha took a small collection of her favourite pieces of loot, and ventured into the bazaars within the docking tower. While Sastasha was unable to find the Wine she was hunting for, she did find information on an owner, a Wizard who lived in the Whitestone district for a touch more payment, she found his address, and set off. She had never intended to purchase the Wine from him, if it truly was as rare, and as delicious as Malic had said, there was no way a Wizard would part with it. Instead, Sastasha put her new found talents to use, crawling up a drainpipe, and slipping through a skylight, had she not been trying to keep quiet, she would of remarked how little security this Wizard seemed to have.

Sastasha dropped into a vast library, it seemed to stretch further than the building itself...Wizards were an odd folk. She scoured the vast halls, and multiple rooms until she stumbled through an office of sorts, and into a Wine cellar, there she found a beautiful elegant crystalline bottle, with a ruby red liquid inside, it was the wine she had sought out. With gloved hands she delicately removed the bottle from it’s shelf, curiously behind it there was a blue sigil, which as she pulled the bottle free, turned an angry red “Uh oh” Sastasha whispered before the air around her filled with horns of alarm, this place was better secured than she had thought. Dashing back into the office she panicked as she heard voices from outside, Wizards could be an unruly lot, and she was not looking to be on the receiving end of their scorn. On the desk next to her, were a pile of arcane scrolls, her head cocked as she looked at them before tucking the bottle securely into a pouch. She picked up a scroll, running her fingers over the dry paper, as she tried to unfurl it she found herself unable to undo the bindings, she cursed and pocketed it, before snatching up another, which thankfully was more compliant. She gazed over the foreign inscriptions, biting her lip as she heard footsteps outside, the markings made no sense to her at all, except. She paused as words came to her “Aperta...Ianua” she said, almost tentatively. There was a dull pop in front of her.

When the honoured Wizard Garrat finally mounted the courage to burst into his office, flanked by his own personal retinue of students, and serfs he found no intruder, rather instead he found a gaping passageway where his wall had been only this morning, whoever had been in his office, had clearly vanished… Sastasha sprinted through the streets, desperate to return before anyone could threaten her spoils, she practically fell through the doors to the Temple, remembering herself and straightening up, before nonchalantly wandering up to Malik “Hm Sasha” he greeted “Out of breath, have you gotten in trouble” the old man asked with a sly smirk. Sastasha growled, her triumphantly casual entrance ruined “Happy Birthday old man” she grinned regaining her composure as she produced the elegant bottle. Malik stopped playing as his hands ran over the bottle “Oh” he said simply, the interest in his voice palpable “Now this is interesting” he murmured “Who was it taken from” Malik said directly, his voice a little more colder than usual. Sastasha spluttered “What do you mean who was it taken-” Malik cut her off “Sasha” he said, turning his milky gaze to her “I’m blind, not stupid” he said gesturing to her thieves pouch “You think I don’t hear the collections you’ve been bringing home Hm” he asked “Or understand that a single bottle of Fion Scathithe can cost more than I could ever hope to earn, let alone a half spawn such as yourself” his words were almost scathing, but not out of hate, almost annoyance, as if he was disappointed Sastasha had even tried to lie to him. The Vulpine ears atop her head sank underneath her hood, Malik smirked “Do not despair Sasha, your secret is safe with me” he cut in before she could leave “In fact, I’m rather impressed with your work, I feel that maybe we could form a” he licked his lips as he held the wine bottle “partnership of sorts”. Sastasha cocked her head, Malik may have been blind, but his intuition, and perception was incredible “Now run along little Sasha” he smirked “I’ll be in touch” he added as he waved Sastasha away, who returned to her room in contemplation, who really was Malik Uredi….

--

Malik Uredi called Sastasha to his side the next evening, “Follow me” he said simply, as he tapped a cane on the floor, holding an arm out to Sastasha “We’re going on a walk” the aging man mentioned. Almost out of bewilderment, Sastasha looped her arm around his, allowing him to take her through streets, and back alleys, and though Sastasha would never admit it, through areas that even she didn’t know. After an hours walk in relative silence save for the chattering crowds, and tapping of Maliks cane, they arrived in a large graveyard. Malik strode forward, his cane no longer tapping the floor, as if he knew this place from memory, approaching a large stone casket shaped memorial he tapped his cane three times on a central ornament, then another twice, then finally three more times. Nothing happened, Sastasha looked up at him “What are we doi-” a heavy grinding noise sounded, as the caskets lid slid back, revealing a set of dark stairs “Patience my child, patience” Malik chuckled darkly as he lead her down the staircase.

The staircase went down to a tunnel, which was as black as pitch, Sastasha’s eyesight could just make out the walls, and how they twisted, and turned into the depths of the city. Presently, she found the light levels raising, as they entered a large antichamber. Torches burnt brightly in brackets on the walls, and crates, chairs, tables, and benches were placed around giving the place a surprisingly homely touch. A basic bar had been set up, and clustered around it were a group of different figures. Sastasha looked to Malik, who picked up on her confusion “The Jackdaws of Anordal” Malik nodded with a wry smile “A group of like minded men, and women” he mentioned as he pulled her forward “Thieves, pickpockets, burgarlers, and well” he smirked “Criminals”. Sastasha looked upon the diverse group of men, and women who turned to her “Until now, you’ve been nothing but a meer child, dancing through the crowds, swiping scraps, and being nothing more than a minor nuisance” Malik said derisively “But” he added quickly “Under the tutelage of the Jackdaws, I feel we could really make something of you”. Sastasha cocked her head in confusion “Wait, I don’t understa-” Malik sighed, interrupting her “It’s a thievery syndicate” he said testily “One that I believe might be of great benefit to you”. Sastasha nodded slowly, it couldn’t hurt to receive some advice…

Displaying her natural prowess, and potential, Sastasha was a fast learner, devouring any, and all lessons given to her. While her pick pocketing was good, there was always room for improvement Alexi,a red skinned Teifling taught her the finer arts of concealment, and how to slip through crowds undetected. Barouq, a wiry Kenku corrected her stances, and strikes, teaching her how to take care of herself in combat. The minor inconsistencies displayed in her pickpocketing were highlighted by Chenni a particularly deft, and mischievous Halfling. And finally a proficiency in lock breaking, utilising the thieves tools, and secretive thieves cant were taught to her by none other than the blind Malik, who despite his disability, was able to pick locks with the greatest of ease.

Despite balancing chores, her temple duties, and keeping Maugh unaware, Sastasha learnt what would take any ordinary thief years, in just a matter of months, and while Malik was apprehensive to offer her the position as a fully fledged member of the Jackdaws, she was considered an honorary ally, able to use their knowledge, and facilities whenever she saw fit. With these new facilities she had the means to expand her work, no prize too daring for her, the Jackdaws applauding her work. One evening, Sastasha crouched above the city, balancing on a narrow beam, a dark hood, and mask obscuring her features. Tonight wasn’t about her, Malik had made a special request. Housed in a glass cabinet proudly displayed above the dining table of the honourable magistrate Hadvir Angast, was a beautiful sculpture known as the ‘Frozen Flower’ a delicate rose crafted from enchanted ice, that could never melt. Malik wanted to feel the cold ridges, and smooth petals for himself, Sasha wanted a challenge. It was a win, win situation.

With an increased range of skills, and experience, Sastasha slipped into the magistrates house, picking the lock to his cellar. From there she made her way past his scant guardsmen, and into his luxurious dining chamber. Though she longed to take the glinting silverware, or gleaming crystalline glasses, she suppressed her desire, where she rounded the corner, and locked eyes on the glass cabinet, and a young man eagerly reaching inside. Sastasha waited patiently for him to pick up the frozen flower, he was unmasked, and seemed to have no tools on his person, he looked like an amateur. As he turned he saw Sastasha, his face was soft, and if Sastasha had to admit it, he was a rather attractive human. He smiled, almost melting Sastasha’s heart “Ah, how awkward” he said softly, his accent clipped, and clean “I assume you’re looking for this too” he asked, almost politely, as he held out the ornate flower, made out of the cleanest ice Sastasha had ever seen. Unwilling to reveal her voice, she simply nodded, stepped forward, and held out her palm flat, she would give him the choice of handing it over. The blonde retreated “Ah, I do apologise, but it seems I got here first” he continued, the words pouring out in a softly spoken symphony “Maybe next time you might be a little quicker perhaps” he mentioned “If you don’t mind my advice” he added with a half smile as he backed away. This wasn’t the place for games, Sastasha strode forward, stopping suddenly as she felt a crunch under her feet as she trod on a circle of glass that had been cut out of the case. When she looked up, the young man had delicately placed the icy flower between his lips, as he untucked the front of his shirt, loosened his tie, and ruffled his hair into an untidy mess. Sastasha cocked her head, placing a hand on her dagger “I do apologise my dear” he said as he retrieved the rose, wrapping it in a white handkerchief, and placing it in his pocket “But a patsy is exactly what I need” and with that, the young man yelled for the guards, he cried a warning out, which was almost instantly answered by the thudding of heavy boots from the guards at the end of the floor “Farewell” he said with a smirk, as Sastasha spun on her heels, and bolted for the nearby window.

After an hour of running, climbing, dodging, and leaping, Sastasha finally lost her pursuers, she was hot, tired, thirsty, and more ticked off than she’d ever been before. Nobody beat her to the prize like that, and she never came home empty handed. She seethed for another hour before returning to Malik, who seemed rather non fussed with the whole situation. For Sastasha this was the beginning of a long series of run ins with the handsome blonde thief, art seemed to be his particular love, and he forever seemed to be a step ahead of Sastasha. Despite his larceny he never obscured his face, nor did he ever seem to really hide, it was as if he had a natural trustworthiness about him. Every time he beat Sastasha to a prize, or called the guards on her she would seethe, and fume for hours, sometimes days afterwards. On occasion, her escapes were aided by the king of the beggars, who agreed to hide her, always stating she would pay him back in time. On a particularly sunny day, Sastasha found herself in a library in the Whitestone District, picking up a series of books for a deacon who was staying at the Temple. While there, she heard a familiar boyish chuckle. There, at the other end of the library, was the thief that had plagued her every attempt at art theft, but if she could find out who he was, she could find his home, and steal what he had stolen, it would be perfect.

Even with her hood up, people had commented on Sastasha’s soft features, dark silken hair, and fair nature, it would help she was a near natural flirt, and an even better manipulator. She took her time, casually making her way around the library, until she found herself next to the devilishly handsome thief, where she coyly let a book slide off her pile and onto the ground in front of him. As she had predicted, he practically dove on the book in a display of chivalry, and passed it up to her “Be careful my lady, the Wizards here don’t tend to allow rough treatments of the tomes, even by somebody as pretty as yourself” he smiled charmingly. Though Sastasha had expected this, she couldn’t help but be momentarily taken aback by his warming smile, she stammered, and almost forgot her plan “A-ah thank you s-sir” she stuttered as she collected herself “I feel maybe I didn’t have the grip I first thought” she continued, playing the part of a sweet, and innocent maiden “Sorry I didn’t catch your name” she asked with a soft smile. The young man chuckled “That’s alright” he replied “I didn’t tell it to you” he responded slyly before gesturing at the sigil of Selune on her broach “From the Temple on the other side of the Whitestone district” he asked with a raised eyebrow “I suspect you’ll have a carriage waiting outside correct” he added astutely. Sastasha blinked, unwilling to let the act go “Oh, yes” she answered, keeping her cool, despite the anger boiling underneath “Excellent, so how about we check these books out for you, and I’ll help you to your carriage”, he was undeniably sickly sweet…

After checking the books out, and letting the young man guide her to her carriage, he bowed as she climbed in “Charmed to meet you….again” he said with a small smirk “I must say, you are rather pretty without the mask” he purred. Sastasha growled in response as she tightened her hands into fists “Oh come on” he smirked “I could recognise those eyes anywhere” as he took a step back. The carriage began to roll off “Nathaniel” he grinned as he faded into the crowd. Sastasha fumed extra hard that night. The Vulpine girl would not see Nathaniel for some time, her forays didn’t take her back to the art world for a short while, instead she busied herself with her own endeavours. After a few months, Chenni, the halfling girl from the Jackdaws recommended Sasha a job for one of her clients. A Heavantis shipment of finery was due to reach Anordal within the week, and a certain client of Chenni desired an opulent oil canvas aboard the shipment. Eager to impress the Jackdaws, Sastasha snapped up the job. She poured every skill she had at her disposal, casing the airship dock, snatching shipping manifests, and running through a perfect plan of action in her head.

It was late when Sastasha slipped out of the temple, and skulked through the streets to the airship dock, keeping her hooded figure obscured by the crowds, and bustling merchants, until she could find her way up to the dock itself, where she positioned herself in the shadows of the wooden rafters and waited for the ship to arrive. As if by clockwork the Heavantis airship ‘Noctis Opulentos’ drifted silently into its moorings. Sastasha’s movements would need to be precise, and disciplined, very few had managed to successfully steal from one of these ships. She leapt from the rafters onto the ships rigging, and slid down a rope, darting past dock workers, deck hands, and merchants as if she were blinking from shadow, to shadow. Despite the sheer amount of people between her, and her destination, she managed to find her way into the holds of the ship, tracking her progress through the map she had memorised, it had been rather expensive to bribe for that particular piece of information. Before long, she arrived at the cargo compartment she was searching for, there were less people down here at this moment, most of them were further up the ship, unloading the more perishable cargo. With a small struggle, Sastasha picked the lock into the compartment, and began scouring the finery for her prize, she longed to fill her pockets with the shining diamonds, and clear cut emeralds, or the ornate wooden carvings, and brass statues that shined so invitingly, she resisted and stayed on target, a girl such as her could lose her mind with greed in here, and maybe she would have, if Chenni’s client had not promised such a hefty reward. She picked the lock on a large wooden chest, her eyes scanning the ornate frames inside, it was exactly what she was looking for. Getting this painting off the ship was a challenge already, doing it contained in the huge ornamental frame would be nigh impossible, she begrudgingly levered the top panel off the frame, flinching as it splintered away, she could almost hear some distant artisan screaming as she did so. With the cation that one would exhibit while handling a glass butterfly, Sastasha gently slipped the canvas out, it was a gorgeous picture depicting a icy night, and a blood red aurora splitting the sky, it was a rather chilling sight that spread a sense of unease through Sasha, when she had been but a child, she had gazed out her window at the same cosmic pattern, it had become a sort of omen to her. She shook off the notion, and rolled the parchment up, slipping it into a protective tube which was slung over her back.

There was a prick of cold steel against the back of her neck “My, my” an infuriatingly sweet voice crooned “You must be improving, you beat me to this one” Sastasha raised her palms, gritting her teeth as she did so “I must say, I’m impressed, did you really manage to slip down here unnoticed” her rival asked, she should have known such an artistic catch would have attracted him. Sastasha took a breath as she felt his dagger point against the nape of her neck “It took some planning” she admitted “And a fair amount of groundwork, and coin” the raven haired girl added “But I’m good enough to pull it off” Sastasha added with a touch of confidence “And yourself” she asked “You don’t strike me as one to hide in the shadows”. Her rival chuckled “Yes, you’ve got me there” he admitted as he took a step back “Turn to face me, nice and slow” he ordered “Keep your hands where I can see them”. Sastasha complied, locking eyes with his, he was a devilishly handsome young man, and in other circumstances she might find herself quite infatuated with him, unlike her dark, functional clothes, he wore a lavish blue, and gold attire, a long coat with a smart white ruffled neck piece “You’re right” he smiled “I don’t take to the shadows as you do, I prefer a far more direct approach” he lectured, touching the point of the knife to his gloved finger “Nathaniel Kadgar Cradagast” he said, bowing his head softly, never taking his eyes off Sastasha “My father is Eobus Cradagast of the council of free mages, it allows me certain allowances when talking my way into places” he continued “It’s also a perfect shield, not one soul would believe that the son of the great Cradagast would stoop to such debauchery” the blonde chuckled “But, I digress, time is still of the essence” Nathaniel sighed as he stepped forward, pulling Sastasha’s face mask down exposing her fair features “I’d hate to have to hurt you” he whispered “So how about you just hand over the canvas, and I’ll” he paused as he flirtatiously tugged her hood down “O-oh” he breathed, as his eyes gazed at her soft black ears, his stare tracing the frosted white tips. He was distracted for only a split second, but his theatrics had given Sasha the opportunity she needed.

With a sharp thrust, she jabbed her palm upwards into his nose, before bringing the edge of her open palm down on his wrist, knocking the knife from his grip, she spun her body, rolling around him, and bolted for the door, she wasn’t losing her prize to him, not again. Before she could leave the hold however, she felt the air behind her crystallise, and chill. Sastasha threw herself to the side not a moment too soon, as a beam of blue white light shot past her, spidering into frost on the wall ahead of her. Behind her, Nathaniel heald his palm outstretched, a deep blue sigil traced in the air ahead of him, contrasting the crimson trickle of blood from his nose “That was impolite” he smirked “We can of course do this the hard way, it’s been a while since I’ve stretched my magics” He darted forward, Sasha’s hand going for her dagger when he caught her wrist. Her wrist was encompassed by another dark blue sigil, and suddenly began to feel painfully cold, she tugged at her dagger, but it refused to draw, Nathaniel smirked “Frost can make the blade stick” Sastasha pulled back, tearing Nathaniel's hand from her wrist, without a weapon, she couldn’t fight him, so instead, she pulled back and retreated, dancing past another ray of frost as it hurtled towards her. Stealth was no longer an option, she would have to rely on her speed, and agility, she tugged her hood up over her ears, and mask over her face, and sprinted through the holds, spinning around those who got in her way, and dodging past anyone who tried to stop her.

She burst out onto the deck of the airship, there was a single beat of silence as she felt the eyes of every member of the crew upon her, before someone yelled, and all hell broke loose. Dodging just out of the grasp of those around her she ran for the edge of the ship, making a leap of faith through the air, she became very aware of the distance that stretched out below her, and for a second, thought she had made a terrible mistake, before her fingers wrapped around one of the thick mooring ropes that bound ships to the side of the dock. With only seconds to formulate a plan, she gripped with her boots, and gloved hands, this was not going to be an easy escape. Gently loosening her grip, she allowed herself to slide down the rope, picking up speed as she followed the long cable down, and down the outside of the tower, the yells above her being drowned out by the whining of her leathers against the rope, and her nose picked up the smell of burning, and a touch of smoke. Looking over her shoulder, she judged her distance, and tightened her grip with all the strength she could muster. She slowed, the acrid burning smell from her gloves swelling as she ground to a stop several meters off the ground. She dropped from the rope onto a small awning, and rolled off into a crouch on the ground. With legs trembling from the adrenaline, and hands itching from the heat of her gloves she looked up at the docked ship, she had just pulled off the ultimate job.

Not eager to hang around she dropped her mask, and headed in the direction of the Jackdaws hideout, only when she reached sanctuary would she feel that the task had been completed. It was late, the streets were empty, and Heavantis would never admit something had been taken from them, and yet something felt off? A noise emanated from behind her, she only caught it because of the astute hearing of her ears, it sounded like metal being drawn from a sheath, she spun around, too late as a there was a sharp rending pain in her side that drove the breath from her lungs. She struggled against her attacker, pulling away with the blade still jutting from her, out of the corner of her eye she saw her assailant, a bizarley well dressed Tabaxi, with a delicate white mask over his eyes. Sastasha turned and ran, each step forcing more breath from her lungs, in her hobbled state, she was unable to move too fast. She was very aware of her assailant, he wasn’t pressing the attack any further, rather he was following, keeping pace a few meters behind her as she ran. She kept her pace for fifteen minutes, before a combination of shock, tiredness, and blood loss brought her to the floor in a dusty alleyway. Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to her feet, nor could she even begin to drag herself away, she was at her attackers mercy. Her attacker crouched next to her, a long, jagged dagger in his left hand “Forfeit your stolen property” he said emotionlessly as he held an outstretched palm towards Sastasha, she didn’t respond, rather she clutched the tube tightly in her hands as she bled freely onto the floor, the thick crimson liquid filling the cracks in the stone around her. Her attacker sighed “Now” he growled as he forcefully pulled the tube away from Sastasha. Until now, she hadn’t realised her strength leaving her, but as her well dressed assailant took the tube away from her with no resistance, the severity of her situation began to dawn on her.

A voice rang out from behind her assailant “What’s going on here”, both Sastasha, and the agent of Heavantis turned to the source of the voice, it was Nathaniel, the agent stowed his blade “By order of the merchant republic of Heaveantis, stolen goods were reclaimed” he said confidently “Find this citizen a doctor, my business is done with them”. Nathaniel smiled warmley “Of course sir, I congratulate your ability to dispense justice” the blonde continued charismatically as he shook the agents hand. There was a soft glow of rosy pink light from his hand, as a sigil enveloped his glove, traveling up the agents arm “Would you like me to hold that while you clean your blade” he asked warmly. The agent nodded with an odd familiarity, and handed over the tube willingly before setting to work cleaning Sastasha’s blood of his jagged dagger. Sasha looked up at Nathaniel as he looped the strap of the tube over his shoulder, he mouthed a soft apology to Sasha, before turning on his heal and calmly walking away. A span of five minutes passed before the agent looked up, he paused for a second before cursing in a foreign language, and bolting in the direction of Nathaniel, Sastasha was alone...

She tried to pull herself to her feet, but she was far too weak to do so, collapsing she felt her eyes close, she was dying here, in some alley way, she couldn’t help but think of Maugh, he would never know what happened to her… As she lay shivering on the floor, she became aware of a being nearby, she was too weak to look up, or resist when the figure lay a hand on her, checking her over, and pulling her hood down, she felt him pause before drawing her close, she tried to pull away, but there was something about him, his smell was almost familiar, safe, instead of pulling away, she huddled closer to him, letting him pick her up and move her. She was only dimly aware of the events that followed, she knew she was taken somewhere, she could feel someone patch up her wound, and was aware she was being taken care of. She finally got the strength to open her eyes and look around one morning, she was in a humble room, the bed was comfortable, and several candles kept the room warm, and light. She winced as she pulled herself to her feet, she wasn’t wearing her clothes, instead she was wearing a pair of surprisingly soft pajamas. Sastasha instantly became paranoid, she had no idea where she was, and whoever she was with had clearly undressed her which meant! She turned to a long mirror on the wall and looked at herself, her ears were on display atop her head, and to her horror her vulpine tail was hanging from behind her, whoever’s home she was staying in, knew about her more bestial aspects…

Sastasha paused and considered escaping via a window, but her belongings were missing, her leathers, equipment, and her dagger, and there was no way she was leaving without it. She tried the door, locked. Sasha returned to the bed and sat down trying to plan her next move. A short while later, she heard a key turn in the door, she stood and prepared for anything, however, she never could have truly prepared for what came through the door.

Standing in front of her, was a young male, a similar in height to her, his features were sharp, and he had a single small scar across his left cheek. However the most striking feature about him lay atop his head, he too was adorned with a pair of silken vulpine ears of midnight black, frosted with white. Sasha was taken aback, she paced around him taking in every detail, from the tip of his ears to the base of his, yes, he too had a dark tail “W-who are you” she muttered quietly, his scent was the same as the scent of the man who had saved her. The two stared at each other, each nearly as taken aback as the other, Sasha noticed his weapon, a dark hilted Kukri, it’s sheath inscribed with a similar set of markings as hers. The male nodded “Calcifer” he replied simply as now he paced around her “I feel like I know you” he added “Your name” the raven haired boy asked. “Sastasha” she responded “I feel I know you too, you’re familiar, but I’ve never met anyone like me” she responded, gesturing to the ears atop her head. Sasha paused “Where am I” she asked “And how long have I been here”, Calcifer paused for a second “You’re in the ‘Whitestone Ash’ Tavern, and you’ve been here” he mulled the answer over “Two days, you heal quickly” he remarked with a smile. Sastasha nodded “And my things” she accused, Calcifer held his hands up “Okrid took them, he said they needed a wash, and that we probably shouldn’t leave you with a weapon when you woke up” Sastasha cocked her head “Oh er, Okrid is my dad” he explained “Adopted, not by birth, he’s nice” the young man added with a smile. Sastasha nodded, relaxing a little, Calcifer seemed trustworthy after all.

Sasha’s gear was returned to her by a large half orc, she was told she was welcome any time. Neither Okrid, nor his Tiefling wife Astrid questioned her on the events leading up to her injury, they were just glad she was safe. When she arrived back at the abbey, she told Maugh about who she had met, casually leaving out her injury, theft, and near death experience. Initially she was unwilling to pry any further, it was in fact Maugh who pushed her to visit Calcifer once more. Over the course of the next few days Sastasha spent a lot of time at the Whitestone Ash, talking to Calcifer, and his adopted parents, it was only a matter of hours however that she made her biggest discovery. Calcifer was left in the Whitestone Ash, much as Sastasha had been left at the temple of Selune, and to make matters even more interesting, as well as a matching dagger, he was also left with a near identical note to her. Sastasha compared the note to hers “Calcifer Leveileur Demanx” she whispered, Calcifer’s cheeks glowed red “Ah yeah, I’ve always hated that surname” he admitted. Sastasha nodded, smiling as she suppressed the urge to cry “Yeah me too” for the first time since she and Maugh had shared the sight of the moon rising in their room together, she had found family.

Sastasha, and Calcifer became almost as firm friends as Sasha, and Maugh. Sastasha would explore the city with her brother whenever Maugh was otherwise indisposed with the various duties a paladin in training was tasked with. When Maugh was available, the three misfits would wander the streets, and markets, or simply relax at the Whitestone Ash, where they got to know Okrid, and Astrid. Both Sasha, and Maugh had never felt so popular. Sastasha even shared her more criminal secrets with Calcifer, spinning him long tales of intrigue, daring escapes, and fine thefts. Calcifer lay hooked on every word. Like Sastasha, Calcifer also found comfort in a less than legal profession. While he wouldn’t share much with his sister, it seemed he had found his calling as a state appointed Assassin. Sasha knew they had existed, but never truly believed they were active. Like finger, and thumb, the two grew closer, and closer, more than making up for lost time. Soon they began to include one another in their respective professions. When Calcifer needed a particularly difficult lock cracked, or someone to help him slip past watchful eyes, he would call upon Sastasha. Likewise, if Sasha simply needed somebody to watch her back, or to give her aid with a tough series of guards, she wouldn’t hesitate to enlist Calcifer in her activities. The pair swept across the city, no lock too tight, no patrol too tough. They felt invincible.

It was after one of these successful team ups, that both Calcifer, and Sastasha sat on a balcony, legs dangling above the city, that the pair found themselves talking about a future. Sastasha didn’t want to spend her life living amongst the thinly labeled prejudices of the temple of Selune, and Calcifer, as much as he loved Okrid, and Astrid, didn’t want to constantly live under their feet. So they talked. What if they...acquired, the funds to purchase their own place, where they could make the rules, Sastasha even suggested opening the idea to Maugh, three oddities who could live under the same roof, in a place they could all call home, Calcifer himself admitted interest in opening a tavern of his own. Over the course of the night, what started as a distant fantasy, began to seem more, and more a reality as they talked about it, all they would need, was money, and if there were two people in the city that could obtain a vast quantity of money, in a short time. It was them.

As well as being a hub for mages, Anordal boasted a hefty population of merchants, hundreds of stalls, and shops littered the markets, and all of those needed places to keep their money. The Vidulum was a large compound of storage rooms, and safes designed for that purpose. The plan was simple, break in, steal the money they needed, and escape via the sewer tunnels. It wouldn’t be the hardest job they had pulled, but it would require complete synergy on their part.

So, on a moonlit night, the two fox children skipped across rooftops, and slid down drain pipes, until they made their way to the Vidulum. Slipping in through the shadows they set to work, Sasha picking the locks, and Calcifer watching her back, as well as holding the gold. They were smart, taking only a skimming from each vault, as opposed to a large take from one, this way, each Merchant would only record a loss of a few gold pieces, enough to be written off as an accounting mistake. The pair went undiscovered until closing the final vault, when a Merchant, and his retinue made an unexpected visit to the Vidulum. Both parties stared at each other for a second, before chaos erupted. Arrows flew, and shouts of alarm were sounded, Calcifer grabbed his sister and pulled her towards their escape route. They climbed over the wall of the Vidulum, and dropped into the streets, the eyes of the night markets all on them. There was no time to lose, they darted forward, and dropped through a hole into the sewer tunnels, feet pounding, echoing against the stone walls as they ran through the maze of tunnels, they couldn’t help but laugh as they ran, they were almost home free. The end of the tunnel opened up to a five meter drop into a deep canal, Sastasha leapt, barley breaking her stride as she crossed the waters, and landed on the other side with a smart roll. That was when she heard a large splash behind her. She spun on one heel, only ripples decorated the water's surface. In the early dawns light, everything was silent.

The next month dragged for Sastasha, and she was only dimly aware of the proceedings. She had sat by the waters edge, shivering for quite some time, before Maugh tracked her down, she knew Maugh had entered the water, and recovered the still form of Calcifer, wrapping him in a cloak. It was funny, he almost looked as if he was just sleeping… Sasha was taken home by Martin, a squire of Maughs, while Maugh broke the news to Okrid, and Astrid. To this day they refuse to blame Sastasha for what happened, but the guilt gnawing at Sasha refuses to die. Maugh also returned the gold to the Vidulum, stating he’d simply found it, and heard the news it had been stolen. The only thing Sasha was left with, was the dark kukri dagger, now the soul owner she had lost the only blood family she ever knew, Sasha lived in a haze, it would be quite some time before she picked herself out of it.

A year later, Sastasha was almost back to her old self, besides private moments in the corners of her own mind, where guilt, and sadness still bit at her thoughts, she was once again smiling, joking, and socialising with Maugh, on the odd occasions they found themselves at the Whitestone Ash she would take some coaxing to come out of her shell, but Okrid, and Astrid were still as welcoming as ever. During one of her excursions with Maugh, to preach the word of Selune at the main entrance to the city, Sastasha met a most peculiar fellow. He wasn’t dressed like the others who milled through the gates, rather he wore a strange attire, that while seeming functional, and protective, had the appearance of something formal. He stopped to listen to Maugh for a short while. This wasn’t the first time Maugh had been sent to speak the word of their Goddess, and it wasn’t the first time Maugh had drawn a small crowd, if only for those in the crowd to stare at his unique form. As Maugh preached, Sastasha carried out various rituals, and blessings, spreading salt, handing out moon lilies, and the like. When she reached the well dressed stranger, he gently took a lilly from her basket, and smiled in thanks. His smile near melted Sastasha, smiles from handsome men had long been her weakness, and this new figure was unknowingly exploiting that.

After Maugh’s sermon had finished, the stranger waited behind until the crowd of gawking onlookers had dispersed, Sasha saw him approach and mutter some words to Maugh, it always put her on edge watching people approach the giant Lizard man, but both seemed happy, The stranger even shook Maugh’s hand before leaving. Sastasha was captivated, nobody had ever reacted so, well, kindly to Maugh before. As the man walked past she bumped into him, he turned to face her “My apologies” he said in a foreign accent, Sastasha bowed her head “No sir, my apologies, I must have let my mind wander” the man smiled again and Sastasha had to hold herself up, before excusing himself and turning to leave. Sasha stood next to Maugh “Hey big guy” she mentioned, staring after the man “Who was he” the raven haired girl asked. Maugh shrugged “Just a member of the crowd, wanted to thank me for the Sermon” he hissed. Sasha nodded “Hm” she muttered, casually opening her hand and dropping a silver pocket watch onto the floor subtly “Hey” she asked bending down, making a show of picking it up “Did he leave this behind” she asked. Maugh raised a scaly eyebrow at her, they’d known each other a long time, and it was hard to pull a fast one on him, Sasha smirked “I guess I’ll go return it….see you back at the Temple” she chirped before slipping off into the crowd after the mysterious man.

She dashed past merchants, and between families of travellers before finding the man, and falling into line a few meters behind him, she followed with inquisitive steps as he turned off the main road, and into a side street. Without such a crowd around him she might actually get a chance to talk to him “Hey” she called out as she jogged up to him, the man turned around, a thick head of red hair atop his head, the fringe falling over his eyes “Oh, from the entrance right” he asked as she came to a stop “Yeah” Sastasha replied “You dropped this” she said proudly holding the pocket watch out to him. The man paused for a second, taking it from her hand “Curious” he muttered “I dropped it you say” the red head added, a touch of disbelief to his voice, Sasha nodded “yeah, I thought I’d get it back to yo-” the man cut in “It was clasped quite firmly to my inner pocket you see” he said simply “Are you sure it didn’t find its way into your possession when you bumped into me” he asked knowingly. Sasha’s breath caught in her throat, she was sure she’d been more careful than that, her deft fingers had never got her caught before. The man continued “Though it’s strange, if you took it from me, why would you rush to return it, were you planning on me offering a reward” he asked “The watch itself would sell for a high price as it is” the man folded his arms “No, you’re smarter than that I feel” he rationalised as he looked her over “Which means you knew what you were doing, but just didn’t expect me to realise” he frowned “Though I must say your end is rather obscure to me, what was your goal here”. Sastasha blinked, almost letting the warmth of a blush spill onto her cheeks “well you know” she stammered, excuses flying through her mind “You were just very nice to Maugh, and I wanted to” she paused letting the words form in her head “Thank you for it” she finished. The man chuckled “So you stole my watch” he asked with disbelief “That seems rather backwards”, Sastasha coughed “Look clearly it didn’t work out the way I thought it would so, I guess I’ll take my leave”. The man shook his head “No come on, you’ve got this far, Maugh” he mentioned, rolling the name around his tongue as if sampling a fine wine “Interesting, so that would make you Sastasha then right” he asked. Sastasha took a step back “You’ve heard of me” she asked a with a small touch of accusation to her voice. The man shook his head and smiled “No, no, should I have” he asked with a raised eyebrow “It’s your necklace” he said, pointing at the flint stone just poking out of her top “It has your name on it right” he asked, gently taking the flint pendent in his hand. Sastasha smiled softly “You can read it” she asked, her interest growing with each word, “So you know my name, what do I call you” she asked. The man responded in kind “Sahelanthropus of Kynesgrove” Sastasha blinked twice, the name near flying completely over her head “Sa-ha-lan” she frowned, messing up the name. Sahelanthropus gave a boyish chuckle “Maybe I could teach you the pronunciation over dinner” he asked casually “It would give you a chance to apologise for taking my watch” he added slipping the silver watch into his pocket “How about I meet you at the Temple early evening” he asked. Sastasha stammered a yes as Sahelanthropus turned on his heel “Excellent, I’ll see you then” he called over his shoulder, as he strode off down the street.

Sastasha had been on dates before, she’d even had a couple of short relationships before, it was amazing how quickly people forget their prejudices around a pretty girl. As a daughter of the temple, she wasn’t strictly supposed to behave in such a way, but they way she saw it, if Salune had a problem with it, she was bound to let her know...right? She bid farewell to Maugh, who had playfully teased her about her upcoming date all evening, as she had thought earlier, it was hard to keep things from him. Sahelanthropus awaited Sastasha across the street from the Temple, wearing a fine long coat, boots, and smart scarf, he was dressed far more finely than Sastasha, who was in what she considered her ‘best’ clothes, a White set of clothing with gold buckles, and a red trim, officially it was supposed to be her temple duties attire, for use during the sermons, and rituals inside the Temple, and it’s grounds. However a previous fling had remarked how good it looked on her, and sealed it’s fate as her go to date wear. To say her and Sahelanthropus hit it off would be an understatement, she hung off his every word, and story, enamored by the tapestries of adventure he spun with his words, he was well travelled to say the least, and Sasha found herself asking questions on every city, and every land he talked of, he explained the thin air of Heavantis, and the strange warmth of Catedrala with such detail, the vulpine girl could almost feel herself walking the streets of these strange places. She had been afraid her own stories couldn’t possible match up, but Sahelanthropus was more than interested enough in her Temple duties, her relationship with Maugh, and what she busied herself with in her day, to day life, even though Sastasha kept the more illegal activities she partook in secret, she still found the red head enamoured by every word.

When their dinner had finished, Sahelanthropus refused to let Sasha pay, despite the fact it was supposed to be an apology for the light theft of earlier “So” Sasha said, rocking back, and forth on her heels as they stood in the chilly night air “Will I see you again” she asked with a playful smirk. The red head mulled it over, rubbing his dark chin “Well” he paused “I suppose you managed to keep your fingers to yourself this time” he muttered with a teasing tone “And you enjoyed yourself” Sasha pointed out, almost impatiently. The finely dressed man chuckled “And I did enjoy myself” he repeated “Alright, I’ll meet with you again” he said “Well Sastasha Leveilleur Demanx” he said with perfect diction, causing a small shudder of disgust from Sastasha “I’ll be seeing you soon” he said with a more than perfect smile.

Sastasha, and Sahelanthropus met several more times after that, relishing each others company, it was a near seamless transition into a deeper relationship, and though it wasn’t the first romance Sastasha had experienced, it was the best. Sastasha introduced Sahelanthropus to Maugh, and in turn to Okrid, and Astrid when the three of them visited the Whitestone Ash, Maugh, Okrid, and Astrid all teased Sastasha in a playful family kind of way, Maugh never letting the jokes grow old. Both Sastasha, and Sahelanthropus were seemingly made for each other, and even when Sahelanthropus took his frequent excursions out of the town for what he called ‘business trips’, when they reunited they would more than make up for lost time.

The pair had been together for three months now, and on occasion Sahelanthropus would take Sastasha on short excursions, be it a night in an Inn in another town, or just a wander through the plains, and forests. While Sastasha had always been warned not to stray too far from the city walls for fear of beasts of the wilds, she had previously accompanied Maugh on some of his jobs in the nearby towns, regardless however, Sahelanthropus promised himself a capable fighter, and vowed to protect Sastasha should she need it, and despite the fact Sasha was positive she’d never seen Sahelanthropus draw the ornate rapier on his hip, she was more than willing to let him offer to be her proverbial knight in shining armour. On a particularly mild day, Sasha found herself wandering through one of the many forests around Anordal with Sahelanthropus, it had started like any other walk, although Sastasha felt them going deeper into the forest then they had before “Should we go this deep” she asked, doubt in her voice, Sahelanthropus paused, almost conflicted “You know” he said quietly “You’re right, how foolish of me, come let’s return to th-” Sastasha cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips “Shh” she hushed sharply, her ears twitching freely, after all Sahelanthropus had seen more than just her head, it seemed silly to keep things obscured from him. As her ears honed in on a noise emanating around them, her eyes widened “Duck” she yelped as she pulled Sahelanthropus down on top of her, as she did a man sized serpent struck out, it’s jaws closing around the space where Sahelanthropus had been not two moments ago. Like a bolt of lightning Sahelanthropus drew the fine silver blade from its sheath and stabbed upwards, piercing the serpent through its mouth, the reptile recoiled, dragging the sword, and redhead with it, deeper into the forest.

Sastasha leapt to her feet and took off after him, she had never heard of Serpent’s in these forests, the northern lands were supposed to be too cold, it was a miracle that Maugh was so comfortable up here. She drew her twin blades and slashed through the dense trees, her ears swiveling atop her head as she chased the noise of combat ahead of her. She burst into a clearing in time to see a second serpent wrap itself around Sahelanthropus, she plunged her daggers into the back of it’s head without hesitation, twisting, and tearing them out as she felt it’s body shiver, and twist beneath her. Sahelanthropus rolled out from beneath its body “You should leave” he growled defensively as he slashed out at a third Serpent, it’s body a sickly gray blue “Run the way we came in, I’ll hold them off”, Sastasha huffed as she pulled him backwards, out of the way of a fourth Serpent, they seemed hell bent on targeting him “No way” she protested, “I just cut you out from under one of those things” the raven haired girl growled as she twisted around him, covering his offhand side with her daggers “I’m not leaving you here to become snake food”. Sasha heard a chuckle leave Salhelanthropus’s lips “I knew there was a reason I kept you around” he muttered.

The pair fought hard against the Serpents as they coiled, and twisted maliciously, at first they strangely seemed to focus Sahelanthropus, practically ignoring her to snap, and lash out at him, however once she felled another Serpent, they began to attack at her too, trying to drive themselves between the pair, and separate them. After what felt like an eternity the tide of serpents stopped, their sickly bodies fizzling into the ground as if someone had doused them in acid. Sasha panted heavily “Now, let’s get away from he-” Sahelanthropus held a hand up, he was almost unnervingly collected, had Sasha not seen it herself, she never would have believed he had fought as hard as ten men only moments ago, his gaze was fixed on a shadowed patch of trees not far from them, maybe fifty meters in front, she slowly turned, and followed his gaze, her darkvision kicking in, what she saw caused a shaky exclamation of fear to leave her throat. Waiting, no, watching, only two meters behind the shadow of the trees, was the head of an enormous Serpent, vicious red in colour, with eyes like daggers, Sasha could feel them upon her, hungrily staring, it slowly began to move forward, slithering it’s massive girth through the tree’s. Sastasha turned to run, but Sahelanthropus caught her wrist “Don’t” he snapped “If you run I can’t protect you from her”. Sasha looked up at his, eyes wide with fear “H-her” she stammered. Sahelanthropus nodded “I’ve not been strictly truthful with you Sastasha” he said with a look of determination “You asked why I came to Anordal so long ago”, Sasha pulled against him as the titanic beast crested the treeline and glared angrily at them, a tongue bigger than her tasting the air, tasting her fear “Truth be told” Sahelanthropus said, his cold voice calming her, she loved the sound of his voice “I was hunting her” he nodded towards the beast as it coiled itself, why wouldn’t it attack? It seemed almost apprehensive “Andskoti” he growled at the Serpent in a foreign tongue. The serpent hissed something in return. Sahelanthropus turned to Sastasha, and took her face gently in his hands “Listen to me” he said sweetly “No matter what you see, I’m still me, I’ll explain everything to you in time, but for now I need you not to run, no matter what, I cannot protect you if you leave me” he said hurriedly “Wh-whu” Sasha tried to question, but her worries were cut off when Sahelanthropus leaned into her, and kissed her on the lips, a long, lingering kiss that seemed to stretch for eternity “I’ve got you” he whispered as he pulled away.

Sahelanthropus turned, a silver glow to his body, he yelled something in an odd language, sounding similar to both a hiss, and the noise one makes when one clears their throat. It was familiar, in fact Sasha was sure she had heard Maugh speak such words. However before she could rationalise the language longer, Sahelanthropus began to change in front of her eyes, his very form changing as silvery clouds steamed from his body, frosting the ground beneath him, his size more than tripled, a long thick tail began to stretch out behind him, vast wings sprouting from his back, he tipped his head back and yelled, but the roar of thunderous clouds echoed from his mouth, as his head shifted into a predatory jaw full of knife length teeth. Sahelanthropus was no mere man anymore, what stood in front of Sastasha, on four muscular legs, was a Dragon of brilliant shining silver.

Dragon and Serpent roared and clashed against each other, their blows shaking the ground beneath Sasha’s feet, she was so awestruck with the sight, she couldn’t have ran if she wanted to. The two titanic creatures tore trees from their roots, and dealt rending blows to each other. Sastasha’s breath caught in her throat as the serpent wrapped itself around the dragon, tighter, and tighter as it tried to crush the beast between it’s coils. Suddenly, the dragons freed its front claws, and drove them deep into the serpents eyes. There was a screech of pain, before the dragon pulled the beasts mouth wide open with a sickening crunch, leaning down it roared a roar of pure icy cold down the serpents gullet. The serpent thrashed, before finally settling, exhuming its last breath, before clashing to the floor, and melting away into nothing…

Sasha sat in shock as the mighty dragon stared down at her, after an eternity she swallowed and looked up at it “Y-y-your Sal” she asked timidly. The dragon nodded before speaking with surprising softness, it’s voice was different to Salhelanthropus’s, and yet so similar “yes” the Dragon said “It’s still me”. Sasha nodded and gently reached out to touch him, his scales were smooth, and shiny, like pearls in a jewelry box “are you afraid” the Dragon asked, Sasha nodded “Yeah” she chuckled in shock “You’re terrifying” she muttered with uncertainty as she looked across the injuries that marked the silver scales, years, upon years of scars, each no doubt telling a story of battle, and triumph, including one particularly large scar noting a heavy puncture wound of old in the side of his neck “Are you hurt” she asked, the Dragon shook it’s huge head “Of course not, My strength is unwavering” Sasha knew he was lying out of pride “I-I didn’t think so” she recovered “Can you” she paused “Change back” the vulpine girl asked looking up at him. With the reverse of before, his body began to change back, his wings folding up, and becoming the long tails of his coat, and his claws shifting into the silvered blade of his dagger.

Despite this rather grand secret, Sastasha, and Sahelanthropus stayed together, it definitely took some adjusting, but the pair were open with each other. With this openness came honesty. Sahelanthropus confessed that while he would never tell Sasha what to do, he had never been comfortable with her thieving nature. In the next few months, Sahelanthropus began to take more frequent, and longer business trips, instead of days, he would be gone weeks, often with little notice to Sastasha. On one occasion in particular, he missed a dinner the two had planned for some time, when he returned, he had seemingly forgot all about it. The relationship began to strain, and it was Sastasha who broke first, she had noticed Sahelanthropus growing more, and more distant from her, and confronted him. Sahelanthropus, infuriatingly didn’t see the issue, as far as he was concerned, his duties to justice, and peace came before anything, and like many Dragons, he was never going to stay rooted to one place. Sastasha argued with him, souring the night they had planned somewhat, until he interrupted her. “Sastasha” he said firmly “I’m a Silver Dragon, my priority will always be my duty” the red head frowned “And those duties will take me away from this city” he continued “I can’t promise to be here every night, or ready to drop everything for you” there was a touch of wisened understanding to his voice. As he went to explain further Sastasha held up a hand “I” she paused, gathering the words “I won’t be an anchor to you” she murmured as she began to see the bigger picture. She was a young thief of indeterminate species, he was a Silver Dragon, defender of peace, justice, and law, more than twenty times older than her. It was never going to be a permanent relationship.

Sastasha heald a lot of unfair resentment towards Sahelanthropus for some time, despite their surprisingly mature, and good natured breakup. They had promised each other to remain firm friends, and if they were ever in the same place, at the same time? Who knows. In a short time, Sastasha forgot her resentment, and once again remembered Sahelanthropus as fondly as she had when she first met him. For now however, she lives in the present, the only things on her mind are Maugh, and her own well being, the thrill of the next theft, and whatever handsome smile catches her eye.

[melancholic-cloud]

Yun Has Done Nothing Wrong, Ever, In Her Life | Ren | Re: Yoshiro, Nao, Yun, Barako, Hoshimi ATTN: Emiko

Of course Barako has a point that focusing on the case is more important, though by that point they were essentially just waiting on injury checks or more evidence to be presented anyway. Ren reluctantly hands Yun to Hoshimi, immediately feeling bad for waking her. He hadn't expected the injury checks to be done for everyone, but it was probably more efficient that way. So he lets Yoshiro check him over without protest, and is adjusting his gloves and scarf when Nao decides to speak up again.

It really just figured that of course he wouldn't have brought this up sooner, or actually explained it when he finally did. Of course not! Why be forthright and clear when you could be obtuse and dramatic? Obviously Nao was the only one who could examine the evidence properly, he couldn't risk sharing it with lesser minds until he could do so with an air of superiority and in a moment where it would garner him the most attention. Ren rolls their eyes so hard it turns into a full body gesture, head tilting back and shoulders slumping as they lean against their podium.

They aren't even going to say anything to him. It's just not worth it.

Instead, they look to Barako expectantly and nod, pleased that she at least knows how to share information like a reasonable person. Ren also gives Yun a gentle head pat after Hoshimi does.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, thank you for telling us." They assure her quietly, before looking up to address the others again.

"So it's possible the used supplies aren't related, though not certain. And like Hoshimi said that video confirms what we already suspected, the killer was close to the same size as Nanako-san- which doesn't necessarily rule out anyone two inches taller either- and that they were likely injured. It may be helpful to know that it was on the thigh, though..."

He trails off as Hoshimi points out Emiko, he'd be lying if he said that hadn't occurred to him as well, but there's a frown on his face nevertheless. "We don't have a lot to go on here. I'd like to say there's no way you could have done this, Emiko-san, but evidence is going to count for more than a friend vouching for your character. You don't have to show anyone if you don't want to, but it would clear things up." 

One way or the other. 

[ryumikaidan]

Part 6

Aoki: And so, they traveled to Nakaari’s house, where the magic jewel was kept.

Kagetsu: Everybody excited to finally see the jewel?

(Cue the stock cheers from the audience.)

Kagetsu: Y’know, the powerful thing that Shina is after? Wanna learn more about that?

(More stock cheers.)

Kagetsu: Alright! (to the annoyed Aoki) Continue.

Aoki: ...Okay, then.

(Scene: Ryumi, Nakaari and the others stand before a large house, awestruck.)

Ryumi: Wow...

Shigeto: This isn’t a house, it’s a mansion!

Hisaaki: You live here alone, or...?

Nakaari: No, I do have family. You’ll meet them soon.

(Cut to the interior of the house, where...)

Fox Boy: HEYA, NAKAARI!

(Everybody except Nakaari jumps.)

Nakaari: Hello, Bunto.

Bunto: You won’t believe what happened while you were out! This lady with a face on her belly came and... (notices the others, gasps) OH, WOW! Three humans! Well, two humans. I’m not sure about the girl. Anyway, glad to meet’cha! My name’s Bunto! Ya wanna hang out together? It’ll be fun!

Akako: Yeah! Heh-heh. (to Nakaari) Who is this guy?

Nakaari: My grandnephew. (to Bunto) Bunto, this girl is Ryumi, your cousin.

Bunto: (gasps) You’re kidding! I have a half-fox cousin?! C’MERE, COUSIN! (hugs Ryumi) OOOHHH, THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!

Ryumi: Okay, uh... Nice to meet you too... You can let go, now.

Bunto: Oh, sorry, sorry! Am I... (notices Maka) How about you? You wanna hug?

Maka: No, no, don’t-AAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!!!

(Bunto chases Maka around, trying to hug her.)

Maka: SOMEBODY GET THIS CRAZY FOX AWAY FROM ME!

Akako: I’m Ryumi’s adopted sister! HUG ME INSTEAD!

(Bunto, upon seeing Akako, immediately runs over and grabs her, embracing her in a hug.)

Bunto: OH MY GOSH, AREN’T YOU THE CUTEST LITTLE THING!

Akako: ACK! TOO MUCH HUG, TOO MUCH HUG!

(Akako is saved by Ryumi, who pulls her out of Bunto’s grip.)

Ryumi: I think that’s enough hugging for today. (to Akako) You okay, Akako?

Akako: Yeah. A little bit more, and I would be “Aoko”.

Kagetsu: Hey, that’s kinda like your name, Aoki!

Aoki: Yeah, I’m aware of that-

Kagetsu: If you had a twin, she’d be named that. Or maybe “Aomi”...

Aoki: Can we just get back to the story?

Kagetsu: Oh, sure.

Shigeto: Any more foxes here? ‘Cause I can’t imagine only two of ‘em living in a big house as this.

Nakaari: I’m glad you asked.

(He opens a door onto six fox people. All look up from whatever they were doing, seeing the newcomers.)

Nakaari: Everyone, this is Ryumi, Sana’s daughter.

Ryumi: Nice to meet you all.

(The foxes whisper amongst themselves.)

Fox Twin#1: She married a human?

Fox Twin#2: C’mon, don’t act like it hasn’t happened before.

Fox Lady: Oh my, what a pretty girl she raised. 

Fox Gent: Don’t get too jealous, now.

Fox Sister: (staring at Shigeto and Hisaaki) Are those two actual full-blooded humans?

Fox Brother: If you’re considering doing what Sana did... (to Shigeto and Hisaaki) Please excuse my... special sister.

Fox Sister: You think I’m special, brother?

Fox Brother: In the other sense of the word, yes.

Nakaari: Now, I hope you all treat Ryumi and her friends well. She is part of our family, after all.

Akako: Ryumi adopted me! Do I count as a family member?

Fox Brother: If you do, then that would make us an unusual family.

Nakaari: Fumito. (to the group) Please don’t mind his insults. Fumito may seem cold, but he has a good heart deep down.

Akako: That was supposed to be an insult?

Shigeto: Makes ya wonder what his complements are like.

(Fumito shoots them look of “Wh-?!”.)

Nakaari: Well, what say we take the time to get more acquainted with our guests? (to the twins) Yoshiro, Yoshiko, bring out the kotatsu.

Twins: ‘Kay! (They both leave to do so)

Akako: Wait, you got a kotatsu?!

(Scene change to the group gathered at a large kotatsu. Akako has her head poking out from under its blanket, in bliss, while the others talk.)

Ryumi: So, that’s why we’re here.

Fox Gent: You say a giant spider attacked your village? And that monkeys and an ogress attacked you?

Ryumi: Yeah. Why do you ask?

Fox Lady: Oh dear. (to her fellow foxes) You don’t think that...

Twins: Oh no...

Hisaaki: What? What’s wrong?

Fumito: You do realize that what has happened to you means that there is someone after the jewel, right?

(There is a silence, before Shigeto slaps his forehead.)

Shigeto: D’OH, IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!

Ryumi: But who would want to steal the jewel?

Fox Sister: Who else but the same person who sent that giant spider that killed your father?

Fumito: TOMOKO!

(Ryumi’s eyes widen.)

Ryumi: W-What...?

(Fumito’s sister, Tomoko, realizing that she should not have said that, cups her hand over her mouth.)

Kagetsu: WHAM LINE!

(There is another pause. Akako awkwardly recedes further under the blanket. Ryumi looks to Nakaari.)

Ryumi: I-I thought... he...

Nakaari: Lost his life in an accident. Obviously your mother didn’t want to frighten you.

Shigeto: Sana, what else didn’t you tell your kid?!

Nakaari: Well, now that you know what really happened to your father, I think it’s time you learned everything.

(Scene change to Nakaari opening a cabinet as the others watch. He reaches in and opens a secret drawer.)

Aoki: And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment of truth. Behold...

(Inside the drawer is...)

Aoki: ...The magic jewel.

(The group fall silent at the sight of the round, sky-blue crystal before them.)

Nakaari: Doesn’t seem like much, does it? But the truth is that this jewel is much more powerful than it seems.

Hisaaki: How so?

Nakaari: It’s called the “Jewel of Miracles” because it can create exactly what its name suggests.

Shigeto: Wait, so it can do stuff like make Hisaaki’s hair grow? Amazing!

(Hisaaki shoots Shigeto a flustered glare. Akako looks at the jewel in wonder, her image reflected on its surface.)

Nakaari: Ever since it was entrusted to me by the Emperor of the Seven Seas, the unscrupulous yokai who know of its existence have been wanting to get their hands on it. Shina is no exception.

Ryumi: Shina?

Nakaari: The mistress of that giant spider. She will stop at nothing to acquire the jewel in order to abuse its magic. Now you know why it must be protected at all costs.

Shigeto: Not to sound suspicious or anything, but this Shina lady wanting to abuse this thing’s power actually sounds like something I would do.

Maka: In that case, touch it and you’re dead.

Shigeto: I wouldn’t go that far, thankfully.

Akako: Can it bring my mama back?

(The others look at Akako incredulously.)

Akako: What?

Nakaari: Unfortunately, it can only bring back someone from the brink of death, not resurrect them. That’s the limit of its power.

Akako: (crestfallen) Oh...

(Ryumi gathers Akako in her arms.)

Bunto: Ya know, if you do wanna see your mom again, you could try using hangonkō! That stuff’s the number one way to see dead people!

Hisaaki: What’s that?

Nakaari: A special incense. It’s made from the sap of hangonjū trees.

Bunto: Yeah, We use it to talk to our ancestors all the time! See, you just light it up and have a nice chit-chat with whoever ya wanna meet who’s dead!

Ryumi: Could we use it to talk to my dad?

Akako: My mama, too?

Nakaari: Of course. The spirits of the dead summoned by hangonkō can only appear to their friends and relatives if called. Unfortunately, we’ve just run out of it.

Ryumi: Oh. Well...

(Ryumi looks at her friends, then back to Nakaari.)

Ryumi: Where’s the nearest hangonjū grove?

[kuro-me]

Desperate Measures

Warning for implied rape!

The pain in his leg was excruciating, but it was nothing next to the damage done to his pride.

Ordus had just met with the Crown Prince, his direct superior, who was displeased with his progress. The fact Ordus was alive was a miracle in itself, knowing what the prince did to those he perceived as failures, but the ultimatum presented had the Tribunus at his wits end.

One month. One short month, that was all he had left to attain the asset he had promised Prince Zenos, or else he would meet the fate of the Praefectus who had died for his failures in Gyr Abania. It wasn’t enough time, there was no way he was going to be able to break the man on time, which meant a new approach was needed.

“But what?” He mused aloud, limping his way down the halls of the palace in Ala Mhigo with a cane firmly gripped in his right hand.

He had been making decent progress on getting into in the beautiful boy’s head again, if he only had more time he was sure he could have broken him. Now he needed to change tactics, but he was loathe to admit that there was only one way he could think of to lure him in quickly. Ordus needed to make the boy angry, but the anger was…

A shudder ran down his spine, stopping dead while his free hand planted against the wall, breathing laboured. Ordus recalled the uprising, that masked figure that had cut its way through countless loyal Garlean soldiers, he had barely survived several ambushes by the one the Domans in northern Yanxia had called Kuro-Me. Deep down he knew it was luck, only luck, he was no skilled warrior.

But he was a keen strategist, he could come up with something.

“Breathe…” He hissed, gasping in breaths as he got over the mild panic attack that had hit him at the memory of that masked demon. “Think.”

What would incur his anger enough to lure him in?

Well, there was the Xaela and her children. He knew of them, a niece and nephew, a sister, that could do the trick. But she was well protected, rarely ventured out alone and when she did venture out there were many other Xaela with her, including that violent savage she called a wife. No, that would be more trouble than it was worth, he didn’t have the time for that.

If only he hadn’t slain the Maeda boy, he could have used his last true surviving clan member to lure him, but now that calculated move was wasted. His fist hit the wall as he slammed the door to his chambers within the palace behind him, all that hard work wasted because the idiot prince was impatient. No, no he couldn’t go thinking of Zenos that way, he feared he’d somehow hear it even if the thought remained solely in his own head.

Finally his thoughts turned to the two encounters he’d had with the beauty since he’d arrived in Eorzea, there was a constant there, something that had caught his ire both times in varying degrees of anger. The girl, yes that was the key he was sure of it, his beauty loved her or was at least very attached to her. No, no it was definitely love, nobody reacted that strongly without their heart being a major contributing factor.

“Hiina Kusakari,” he mused, limping over to a chair in his chambers and groaning slightly as he sat upon it, relief washing over him as he felt the pressure taken entirely off his leg.

She was a kunoichi, skilled enough to have drawn the boy’s attention- ironic how Ordus thought that strength of arms was all that would draw Yoshiro in- but not quite on his level. If he could corner her somehow, she would make easy prey for a few squads of soldiers lying in wait, the trouble was that since his failed assault on the refugee camp she rarely left Ul’dah alone.

Besides, taking her when he couldn’t see would be counter to what Ordus wanted, he needed the boy to be seething- that thought sent a small shudder through his spine but he pressed on- and wanting to chase Ordus down. So he should take the girl when the boy was there to see, make sure he knew he had failed to keep her from his enemy’s clutches, that would cut deeply and Ordus was nothing if not petty toward the beauty who’d escaped him.

“He cuts down squads too easily…” Ordus mused aloud again, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair slowly. “I need something more.”

A colossus perhaps? Plus an entire century of soldiers, it had taken him five seconds to cut through his men and injure Ordus last time, but after that he seemed to have slowed down which was intriguing to say the least. To think he could somehow transfer the energy of the eye to his other eye too by regulating his flow of chi, what an industrious little beauty he was.

Ordus was going to crush the life out of him when this was over, take the eye fully formed, break the boy again the way he had before and then force him to watch as the girl was taken too. He hissed in a sharp breath suddenly, he couldn’t take the girl like that while Kuro-Me was free, it would be too much. Too far. He would never survive the wrath of that demon baring down on him, not this time.

Fear clutched his chest, seized at it for a moment, his breathing becoming laboured again as he slammed his fist hard into the arm of the chair. He would not falter, he would show the girl every hospitality short of taking her, soon as he had the boy he could force them to watch the other taken.

“Ha..” He chuckled, amused at his own sick machinations.

But he was getting ahead of himself and his mind was slipping off course, he had to focus on the task at hand for now. The two would inevitably leave Ul’dah together eventually, whether it be for training as Ordus had caught them before, or for some other reason all he had to do was keep a century at the ready to move the instant his spies informed him they were in the open.

The girl would be caged like a bird, in the very cage he had kept the demon in before, this would end at home for the both of them. He would need every soldier available to him to ensure the boy’s capture when he came, surely he would bring allies of some kind with him, there was no chance he’d come alone. Not this time.

“Not long now, Lord Yamauchi..” He whispered, smiling coldly to himself. “You and your little girl will both be mine.”

He shook slightly in anticipation, but the anticipation turned at once to a lingering fear, he was going to intentionally anger the boy. The boy might become the demon again, the thing that Ordus saw in his nightmares. But it was alright, he would use the one thing the demon cared about as a shield, and if he became too dangerous then he would break him by other means.

If the worst happened, he’d snuff out the girl’s life in front of him, all to drain the last vestiges of his resolve. His hubris of wanting both might well be his undoing, but it was just far too tempting.

“At least they’ll suffer together.” He said, a sick smile curling across his face as his tongue ran steadily over his top lip. “I’ll might even bury them together at the end…”

My, but wasn’t he benevolent?

[naruto-oc-critiques]

Haruka Inuzuka

This character is a more reworked version of an older character I made a long time ago, so I don’t quite have all the history worked out yet. But I’d love a review and some suggestions for what I have so far. 

Name: Haruka (Meaning clear weather combined with fragrance) Inuzuka

Gender: Female

Age: 12

Time set in: Pre Shippuden

Birthplace: Konohagakure

Lives in: Konoha

Appearance: Haruka is around 5 feet and 2 inches tall, and 125 lbs. Her hair is a light brown color and reaches down to a little past her shoulders, with some loose bangs hanging over her forehead. She ties it back with a simple hairband, making a small, messy ponytail. Her eyes are dark brown, though this isn’t easy to see with her slit pupils, her skin is tanned, and her canine teeth are sharper than average. Like the rest of her clan, she has red fang tattoos on her cheeks.

C: 125 lbs is actually rather heavy for her height and age, with this BMI calculator suggesting that she is overweight by 2 centiles (childrens BMI is calculated differently to adults, with anything over the 91st percentile suggesting they are overweight). Obviously BMI isn’t foolproof, but if you bring her weight down to 120lbs she would be a ‘healthy weight’ for her height and age.

Her uniform consists of dark blue three-quarter long pants, with an equipment pouch attached to the back and a holster tied to her right leg. Her shoes are standard dark blue sandals/boots, and she wears a lighter blue open cloth vest that leaves her arms bare. Underneath is wooden chest armor and a simple mesh shirt beneath that. She wears a set of open fingered gloves, with built in blades that extend like claws. Haruka’s headband is tied loosely around her neck.

C: This is okay, though I wonder whether built in blades on gloves would be practical or too bulky. I’m also curious about the choice of wooden chest armour.

Family: (sentence or two for each immediate family member. No need to go into detail on extended family unless relevant)

Morina (ninja hound)- A light brown dog with pointed ears and a curled tail, based off the Akita breed. She’s small at the moment, but has much growing potential.

C: I like the choice of a Japanese breed. I’m curious as to how big she is at the moment, and how big she’ll be when she’s fully grown.

Gaku Inuzuka (Father)- A jounin who’s been in the field since at least the Third Ninja War, and fought directly against Kumo under Minato Namikaze’s command. He’s skilled and confident, but likes to take a slower, more careful approach to problems and is rather strict.

C: What dog(s) does he have?

Kaori Inuzuka (Mother)- A clanless chunin kunoichi that married into the Inuzuka. She works in the medical and science division, and is ocassionaly sent out on missions to gather data and samples when not researching.

C: It’s lovely to see someone working in this field. What does her research focus on?

Kiba Inuzuka (clan relative)

Tsume Inuzuka (clan relative)

Hana Inuzuka (clan relative)

C: I assume that they’re not closely related then.

Occupation: Ninja

Rank: Genin

Team: Kotetsu Hageta (OC clan), Yoshiro Hyuga, and their sensei Kenzou “The Tiger” Byakko

Friends: (still working on this area beyond her two team members)

C: No worries.

Personality: Haruka is a stickler to the rules, and does her best to treat all of her percieved elders and superiors with respect, politeness, and loyalty. In a way, this makes her idealistic, as she believes the best of people in those positions until she is proven wrong. She was raised to value teamwork, and even though she is a bit prideful and standoffish at times, she readily acknowledges that she’s stronger when she’s not alone. Leaving someone behind is a very last resort to her, and she’s more likely to fight to the end than retreat unless told to do so, as long as she feels like it’s still possible to win. She’s more analytical than hotheaded, though when her ego is bruised or she’s worried about something, she may snap at people and have to apologize later.

Haruka puts on a rougher persona around her equals to try and fit her clan’s reputation better, but she’s insecure about her own talent compared to her father’s. Also going against her image is her desire for neatness and order. Possibly because of having a scientist for a parent, she had an unusual amount of knowledge on medical subjects growing up, and despises messes, germs, and dirt in general. She sometimes chastizes people for unhealthy habits, and even washes her dog more often than usual to make sure she’s clean as well. When in battle, this uneasiness is pushed back by adrenaline, though she may complain about the blood and dirt and mess afterwards. She hates loud noises, insects, and chocolate too, though more out of preference than disgust and paranoia.

Haruka enjoys music to the point of using it as a calming tool, though she can’t play an instrument, and she likes trees and woods despite the less than ideal conditions of the outdoors. Her goal is to find her own path to strength and become as respected as her father, no matter how far up the ranks she has to go.

C: I like her personality, though the first paragraph gives me an ‘older than 12′ kind of vibe. I really like her goal too.

History: Haruka was born to Gaku and Kaori Inuzuka, a few months before the Nine-tailed Fox attacked. Both of her parents survived, but many ninja, some Inuzuka among them, died trying to push it back. Gaku became overprotective and stricter as a result, though he always seemed that way to Haruka growing up, and she didn’t push his boundaries much. Instead, she had a huge amount of respect for his past achievements, and wanted to be just like him for a long while. Her mother wasn’t nearly as hovering, but she let her read science textbooks that laid around the house, but she didn’t understand much of it beyond basics, and eventually decided it wasn’t the path for her once her “neatfreak” tendencies set in.

C: Gaku’s reaction is completely understandable here. I’m curious as to how much Haruka was actually able to understand of these science textbooks though. Most of the textbooks I have at home probably wouldn’t be accessible to anyone below 16 years old. It would be more believable if they bought her some age appropriate science books.

She went to Academy around the age of 6, and Gaku was supportive despite his worries over the village’s future peace. She picked up on the studied subjects quickly, and was consistently near the top of her class when it came to tests and sparring, though she wasn’t great with genjutsu or chakra control, relying on her family’s techniques heavily. She had a small collection of friends, mostly because she didn’t look easy to approach. She recieved Morina, who she calls Mori for short, as her ninja hound a year before her graduation, the same year as Naruto’s class but in a different room.

C: I checked with other mods, but we weren’t sure if the rookie 9 were the only ones to graduate from the academy when they did, or there could be another class to graduate from. Some more details about her academy friends would be nice, and maybe a little information on her contact with them after she graduated, though I know you haven’t really finished this part of her yet.

She was assigned her teammates, a quiet, but skilled clan boy named Kotetsu Hageta, and Yoshiro Hyuga, a cheerful member of the branch family who wasn’t very talented in the Gentle Fist arts. Under the leadership of the jounin Kenzou Byakko, a famous trap specialist and battle commander, they grew closer together and improve their skills. She does eventually befriend Anko Mitarashi and, impressed by her drive to grow stronger and diffentiate herself from her teammates, gives Haruka side lessons in poison usage as an unofficial student.

C: Does the team have any speciality?

 Abilities:

Ninjustu- 1

Taijutsu- 2.5

Genjutsu- .5

Int- 2

Strength- 2

Speed- 4

Stamina- 1.5

Handseals- 1.5

Total- 15

C: These are reasonable stats for a genin.

Haruka fights like an Inuzuka, with sharp senses, quick reflexes, and hit and run tactics. She doesn’t have as much brute strength, but her speed is even greater to balance this out, and she uses quick accelerations to increase the power behind her blows. She also has a pair of metal claw weapons she extends to increase her reach and bolster her jutsu effectiveness. She’s great at tracking and flanking opponents, but suffers in prolonged direct combat and is best with backup. Her chakra natures are Fire and Wind. Haruka is also a rookie poison user.

C: Does she mix poison with her clan techniques?

Jutsu/Techniques list-

Man Beast Clone

All Fours Jutsu

Tunneling Fang

Fang Over Fang (Iron Fang Over Fang with her weapons drawn)

Fang Rotating Fang (Iron Fang Rotating Fang with her weapons drawn)

Wind Style: Tornado Fangs- Original technique that requires spinning upright and moving along the ground like a pair of tornadoes, slashing opponents apart with an added wind element. It can draw enemies into it at high speeds.

C: Adding in wind style would make it a high level jutsu and be quite hard to create (see Naruto adding wind nature to rasengan), so I feel this is probably something she wouldn’t be able to come up with as a genin and is best left until chuunin or later.

Tainted Claws- A technique that cuts the enemy with her poison tipped weapons, eventually causing their muscles to go numb and make them slower. This is more of a setup for more powerful attacks, as it makes the opponent an easier target.

C: Why did she chose that particular poison? A fast acting and fatal poison would seem a more sensible choice.

Overall, I like Haruka. As you haven’t finished working on her yet, there are bits of information missing, and I’ve tried to point out each time I had questions about her. Even if you don’t write out an answer to each of them, it would probably be beneficial to think about the questions to help develop her. I’d also like to know about any goals that she might have, and more on what made her choose to be a ninja, though it’s okay if she doesn’t really have long term goals considering her age. This is definitely a good start and I wish you the best of luck with fleshing Haruka out. If you have any questions please feel free to message us.

[kuro-me]

Mountain of Fire

Yoshiro remembered vividly how it had been raining that day, the skies cast over with dark clouds that threatened thunder, it was fitting really. Hisao had been making his way through the forest, leaping from sturdy branch to sturdy branch to get to his destination faster. The village was still a fair distance into the mountains again and the Garleans were closing on him, intent on capturing and destroying the butcher Kuro-Me, Hisao almost wished that they would but not at the expense of his clan.

The journey was uneventful for the most part, occasionally he’d spot plumes of smoke in the distance when he stopped to look back, the Garleans burning down other villages and hamlets leading toward the Yamauchi village he was sure of it. Every fibre of him wanted to turn back and help, to get the civilians away from the fires, but the logical part of him knew it was too late for that. All he could do now was reach his own people and warn them, it was all he had left to him now.

Seiko was dead as far as he knew, she hadn’t been seen since the fighting three weeks prior and the prospect of telling Kiyo was eating away at him. Akimasa was definitely dead, he’d been peppered with shots from the Garlean firearms, his armour hadn’t held long and had been left him broken on the field. Kenji was alive as far as he was aware, the two of them had been the remainder of their team and had decided to split up to try and ensure at least one of them could reach home in time.

Hisao stopped abruptly and planted his left hand against the trunk of the tree he occupied, he’d heard a sound he was sure of it and his strange obsidian eye had suddenly wheeled to his right, entirely independent of the ordinary blue eye on his left. Silently he watched the spot his eye had gone to, breath caught in his throat as he was afraid to so much as breath lest his position be given away, which was a maddening sensation thanks to the thump his heart filling his ears because of it.

“Hisao?” A gentle but masculine voice called from the trees, he recognised it instantly.

“Kenji?” He hissed, voice relieved beyond reason.

From the trees he was looking at his fellow shinobi emerged, dressed in full garb ensuring his face was obscured from view, but Hisao could at least make out those grey eyes he knew so well. Quickly he dropped down from the branch he occupied, landing soundlessly on the forest floor and making his way over to Kenji with intent to greet him properly, but the moment he came too near his lifetime friend went immediately for his weapons as a warning to come no closer.

“What is it?” Hisao asked, initially thinking perhaps there were Garleans near but he knew the truth, he could see Kenji’s eyes locked directly upon him after all. “So that’s how it has to be, then.”

“Your father argued against it,” Kenji answered, his voice cold and suppressed, not the vibrant and lively young man he was known for being. “The village elders overruled, you’re too much of a threat to return Hisao. They’ll follow you, the clan comes first.”

There it was, he was now not only a butcher but also an outcast. It wouldn’t stop there though, because he knew how the elders minds worked, they knew that the village would only be safe if they proved their loyalty and conveniently the means to do so was heading their way in the form of the notorious Kuro-Me. Kenji hadn't been sent to wait for him just to tell him to go away, he’d been sent to do what ninja did best, to kill Hisao so that the clan could offer his body up to the Garleans.

If there was hesitation in either man they refused to show it, Hisao buried his feelings for Kenji deep and reached for his blades in preparation for the battle to come. Yoshiro couldn’t recall who had actually made the first move, it had seemed like both had moved at the same time, becoming a swirl of swift and precise strikes. Hisao had avoided and parried Kenji’s strikes with speed that shouldn’t have been natural, such was the power of his strange eye that he’d dubbed the tomokenzan- the all-seeing eye.

The fight ended with neither man employing ninjutsu against the other, perhaps it was a sign of respect or because neither truly wished the other harm even if they were forced to do so. Kenji hadn’t stood a chance really, but the fact their fight through the trees had gone on a full fifteen minutes was a testament to his skill. Inevitably though, Hisao’s blade found its mark and pierced the right side of Kenji’s chest, burying deep and causing the man Hisao loved to be left broken on the forest floor. It angered Hisao that he had been bested so easily.

Kenji should have known that assaulting him from the front therefore was futile, they’d practiced together often enough and not once had Hisao been bested so long as Kenji came at him head on. That was how he’d slain so many Garleans too, they were ill prepared for the ninja fighting way as it was, then add on top the eye and they were like lambs to the slaughter. A shame Hisao was only one man really, he could only do so much alone and the Garleans had started to become wise to the eyes weakness eventually resulting in several close calls.

In the end though, it had been the weight of numbers and their magitek that had won the war for Garlemald. Leaning forward, Hisao tore the mask from Kenji’s head, revealing his brown hair sticking out at what would have been amusing angles were it not for the gravity of the moment.

“You’re a fool,” Hisao hissed, glaring at Kenji who he’d propped against the nearest tree, “you knew you couldn’t take me head on.”

“I-...” Kenji began, but coughed and rasped in pain as the blade in his chest was the only thing keeping his lung from collapsing right now. “I couldn’t kill you, it was better this way.”

“How?!” Hisao snarled, the venom and anger in his voice clear. “Why?”

“You know why.” Kenji rasped, blood staining his lips. “Hurry up and end it, this hurts like a bitch.”

There was a bitter laugh from Kenji as he tried to make light of the situation, that was more like the young man Hisao knew. There was only silence after that, saying he was sorry, breaking down crying, screaming in anger, all of it was pointless. Kenji was going to die, he had plunged the blade in himself and that wasn’t going to change, but the village still had to know the Garleans were already on their way. They had to evacuate, whether they sought his death or not.

Hisao leaned in and kissed Kenji, the only kiss and confession they’d ever share, it was tainted by the taste of iron. Drawing back he looked into those grey eyes one final time, then stood and pulled the blade in Kenji’s chest along with him, the instant he did there was an exhale as the air escaped his lung in an instant. He faded quickly after that, shutting his eyes as if to spare Hisao having to stare into them as he died, and then he was gone and Hisao stood alone with his grief.

Once he’d collected himself he pulled himself back up into the trees and continued on his way toward the village, unaware that the Garleans had actually slipped them by while he and Kenji fought. The first signs came when he got deep enough into the mountains to see the smoke barely visible against the darkened sky which now rumbled with thunder, the rain having grown heavier. Hisao felt his heart frantic as he picked up the pace toward the village, he had to find Kiyo at least. If he could just get her out, then he might forgive himself for Kenji, and the village as a whole one day too.

The sight of the village ablaze shocked Hisao into immobility, able only to stare from the treeline wide eyed and deaf to all things but the roar and crackle of the blaze. The Garleans had used an oil he’d seen them deploy before, it burned regardless of water being used to douse the flames, and so the rain fell impotently down unable to quench them. There were no screams by the time Hisao had arrived, nor any sign of the Garleans themselves who must have come and gone already.

How had they slipped by him? This couldn’t have happened in the short time he and Kenji fought, had Kenji been waiting for him there for him for a while and not known what was happening to their home? It caused the pit of his stomach to knot with grief and rage, as if he hadn’t had his fill of that already.

Finally remembering his feet, Hisao made his way toward the village and walked among the streets, the fire was suffocating around him but he had to check to survivors. He had to see if somebody had survived or he would never be able to live with himself and move forward, though right now that was furthest from his mind. Naturally he went for the homes of the people he cared for most first, he was only human after all and desperately hoped in vain to find them.

It was when he came upon part of Kiyo’s family that he really felt the weight of the loss in full, there was no sign of Kiyo among them which was a small comfort, but he couldn’t imagine anyone having escaped from this. Standing over the Ishikawa family he heard the sounds of the magitek rifles clicking, of course the Garleans had left behind a squad to keep an eye on things for a while, but he’d been too preoccupied to think about them. That was his mistake, letting himself slip up like that.

“Turn, Doman!”

That had to be the officer who was ready to give the order to fire, at least he would die at home. Turning to face them he pulled his mask away, he didn’t want to die wearing a mask if he could help it. The squad was lined up with their rifles levelled upon him, five stood and five knelt down in front like his own personal firing squad. Raising his arms slowly he didn’t make a gesture of surrender, but instead spread his arms as if to offer them a target, his face cold and distant as if he had already departed his body.

“Kuro-Me!” The officer gasped, a mixture of terror and awed victory in his voice. “Kill him! Fire!”

Hisao actually rather enjoyed the terror that he heard in the officer’s voice, it was a sweet sound to die to he thought. The rifles fired, he felt the stinging pain of them hitting his body, and then nothing as he faded from consciousness. The next thing he knew…

Yoshiro awoke with a start and covered in a flop sweat, panting heavily and eyes wide as he briefly forgot where he was only for his eyes to eventually focus on his apartment cast in darkness. Panting for breath he found himself quaking as he sat still in bed, trying to get his breathing under control and willing himself to reach for the cup of water he kept on the floor beside his bed. This wasn’t the first time he’d woken like this and he always felt parched when he did, so he shakily lifted the cup and quickly gulped the contents.

Once he’d finished the water he’d managed to regain his composure considerably, but he felt too shaken to return to sleep and so instead he got up and decided to dress himself, he needed to walk it off. As he moved for his clothes his eyes fell to the chest on the shelf beside his closet, in which resided the uniform he’d had Hiina repair for him that had peppered with ten small holes on both sides that correlated with one another. What they also correlated with, were ten pale patches of long healed skin on Yoshiro’s chest, stomach, and back, along with one on his right shoulder.

Staring in the mirror for a moment at the marks, Yoshiro slammed the door of the closet to rid himself of the fight, it was the last thing he wanted to see right now. Upon getting dressed he slipped from the Red Wings company house and made his way through the Goblet, heading for the gate that led into Thanalan rather than to Ul’dah directly. Yoshiro liked to walk in the wild to clear his mind, but that night he ended up looking toward the city and wondering if anybody he knew was awake.

He could use the comfort of friends right now and those were few in number for him, it was late but he could always hope. Turning toward the western gate of the city he walked slowly and without real purpose, he could at least revel in the wilderness a little before he got to the gate and passed the Brass Blades on duty who always gave him suspicious looks. Well, he was Doman and they weren’t the friendliest bunch when it came to the large number of refugees in and around Ul’dah.

Once he was in the city he was surprised to find people he knew right away, though he could have done without Nazeru right now, he felt miserable enough without having to put up with her certain brand of socialising. Perhaps that was a bit harsh of him but at the moment he felt miserable and his usual politeness had gone along with his mood, actually perhaps seeing friends was a bad idea right now. Sadly, before he could try and slip by them unnoticed, he was spotted and Hiina had approached him.

Well, it was too late now. Perhaps he’d find himself cheered up a bit after all, and so he smiled like he always did, because nobody was allowed to see the trauma. That was his to cope with and nobody else’s, his fellow Domans least of all as they had their own hardships to cope with, he wouldn’t be the one to add to them. It was at this moment he noticed the small cut on his left arm had reopened, well that was just great...

[melancholic-cloud]

Sometimes I Think I'm Dead | Matsuo & François | Body Reaction

It wasn’t very long after the movie ended when Matsuo and François had left to go back to their meatspace apartment. Shortly afterwards they excused themselves, as if in a hurry. They had other private business to attend to apparently. Business that ended up being rudely interrupted by music? And… death.

[♫♫♫♫]

When they arrive at the scene, Matsuo’s the first to step inside the room and see the body. He places a hand to his chest as that sharp, tight pain in his chest appears once again. He feels sick, his eyes are beginning to water. Ah… How funny. Never did he think he would tear up over Lucian Ravenholme. He wasn’t very close to the self-proclaimed vampire, in fact he was never a very big fan of him at all. But after what he had done to him, after taking someone he loved dearly away from him, the foilist couldn’t help but feel at fault for this. After all he wasn’t really a vampire, Max never believed that was true. He merely just played along with it after he grew too tired to argue that he wasn’t part of the occult. Instead the idea that maybe he did this all to be with Yoshiro immediately comes to mind. Maybe if he just… If he didn’t… If that never happened, maybe Lucian wouldn’t have felt inclined to press that stupid fucking button.

But then again, what about Hoshimi? He couldn’t just leave her here either, right? He couldn’t do that, that would be like if Matsuo left François. Lucian couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t hurt someone he loved like that. But he did god damn it, they’re sobbing into his unmoving chest and Max can’t watch. He shouldn’t have done that, he should have known better, you can’t just leave someone that loves you, you can’t fucking do that you can’t--

Ugh. Thinking about it makes his head ache. He’s confused, hurt… God damn it, why couldn’t they have that breath of fresh air for a little longer? Why couldn’t the breeze flow in a little more? Why did they have to slam it down onto their fingers? Why? It’s all a terribly violent tug back into the reality of it all, and he cannot stand it.

---

François wobbles where he stands by the door, tears in his eyes. Lucian being the one to push the button both makes a lot of sense but also doesn’t. He was a vampire so of course he would be fine right? Except… There were always plans for how to kill students weren’t there. But Lucian looks… He looks… Like almost nothing has happened. No marks or burns or anything. He’s almost undisturbed, as if maybe he could be sleeping. Except his expression is all wrong. Why was he… Why wasn’t he getting back up now? It didn’t make any sense it didn’t- marde…

How could Lucian have died? Vampires were immortal and he- there was nothing in the room there was nothing! It was painful, Lucian was- and Hoshimi was so upset and- his friends. Their little book club. How did he die? How did he die? It didn’t make any sense with no marks. It wasn’t any of the ways he knew killed vampires. No sliver, he wasn’t wet from holy water, there wasn’t a stake in his heart. His head hurt. What would even do that what would…

It’s… hard to breathe. If he didn’t die from those then he- how did they? An idea starts to form in his mind and he doesn’t want to think it. He glances at the body and he could swear he saw bruises on Lucian’s neck. Non. Non. Je peux pas- He can’t breathe. J'm'étouffe!

François, tu me fais honte. T'es rien qu'un raté, tu seras jamais meilleur que moi! Tu vaudras jamais autant que moi j'vaux!

His hands rush up to cover his mouth. He tries to calm his breathing, tries to push down a sob. She hates it when you cry like that. Don’t be a baby. She’s not- she’s not-

T'es un fils horrible, comment est-ce que t'oses me cracher dans la face de même?

Her hands are too tight, he’s scared. This time she might really do it. He can’t breathe, he’s choking. His lungs burn, the pressure in his head is too much. Her hands are too heavy and he’s so small. The tailors legs buckle out from under him.

---

Matsuo breaks from his own frustrated bubble of thought as he hears the choking behind him. His head whips backwards, his eyes already filled with fear and concern. It seems like he knows who it is before even turning around, which is certainly the case here. Afterall, who else would ever react like that? The foilist’s legs begin moving suddenly, despite not putting his mind towards it. He’s focused on him and only him. He’s what truly matters in the moment; Not some lousy music, not some pouty new blue-haired girl, Just him. Just Fran.

It’s too late to catch him, he’s already begun to fall. That isn’t going to stop Max, though, he’s a man on a mission. He feels himself drop as he gets closer to the tailor, the panic bursting out of him too strongly to keep himself up. His lanky arms wrap around Fran as he pulls him close and begins to cradles him as he had done during the fourth trial.

“Elfie, s-stop this.” He mumbles as he attempts to drag the both of them as far away from the body as one room would let them. “Stop ch-choking, nothing’s-- It just-- No one’s here to hurt you, I s-swear-- Please, François Krupin, don’t you do this to me--” His voice raises in frustration at those last words. He pats the tailor’s cheeks and forehead lightly in an attempt to wake him from this episode, but it just won’t stop. Neither are the tears of panic running down his own face.

[melancholic-cloud]

Pleading From the Bottom of my Undead Heart || Lucian || Chapter 4 Trial | RE: Lots, mostly Nao and Seiichi and Ren ATTN: Everyone

Everyone was talking, and once it got to shouting Lucian was struggling to follow it all. He'd really pushed himself too far, he was too injured for this, his head was swimming. To add onto that and make it worse, there was nothing else that he hadn't shared that he knew. 

And then Nao spoke up. 

Lucian just wanted to stay close to Hoshimi, to feel her arms around him (even if she couldn't feel it) and have her reassure him that this was going to be okay. 

"There wasn't any blood in the gym, I looked, and... the weights, I don't think they could have been..." He trails off. He wants to help. After all, he's going to be taking Matsuo away from Fran (but Matsuo had made the decision! Matsuo had killed Yoshiro and taken Yoshiro away! He shouldn't feel guilty, he shouldn't, and yet--) so he should at least help find the other. But he doesn't know. He hadn't even found the room filled with blood. Hadn't found much of anything, the USB's missing...

It quickly devolved into bickering between Nao and Ren, featuring others chiming in. Lucian kept quiet. At least, until the was it you? got leveled at Seiichi, his friend. His friend who would never--

Ren spoke up first, sure, defending, but Lucian opened his mouth to also protest -- only to cut off as the confession came out.

No.

He couldn't have heard it right, there's not... It wouldn't be like this, it couldn't.

Are you happy now? The words weren't aimed at him, but he still felt them. Like a punch, like a knife, like a piece of metal gouging into his side. Hoshimi. She loved Ren, too, and Lucian didn't want to see--- Everything was moving too fast, he didn't have time to react or even process things. He felt sick, lightheaded, unsteady, he didn't want to be here. Didn't want this to be happening. He was confused, he didn't know, it... it was just... It hurt.

"... I..." Seiichi wouldn't. He wouldn't, and Ren, Ren wouldn't-- but they would, wouldn't they? Either of them? Friends don't lie, Hoshimi doesn't like lying, she isn't comfortable with it, friends don't lie, and he'd been trying, really hard, but yet they.... A frustrated and pained sound escapes Lucian's throat. 

"No! Let's just... Just stop this, we can't... We can't vote for them! Either-- any of them!" He couldn't do that to Hoshimi. Or to Ren. Or to Seiichi. 

Or to Fran. 

Was it betraying Yoshiro?

Lucian's voice shook, but he kept talking, almost pleadingly. "Suu was right, Morita-san let Kotohiki-san and Katsumi-chan die. And he... he keeps lording things over us, acting like we're stupid and he's so much smarter than the rest of us idioții, and... he tried to get us to agree to that terrible idea." He pressed his lips together. His chest felt strange, tight, almost like when he'd been alive and felt a heartbeat slamming around inside.

"I don't want to lose either of them. We... we shouldn't. Both of them, Seiichi and Suu, have helped us all a lot more than Morita-san." His gaze flickered over to Fran, and guilt was obvious on his face. His hands were trembling. "Krupin-san, either. We should vote for Morita-san... and Yoshiro."

It probably wouldn't go over well, would it? He kept talking, a little faster, trying to explain what made sense in his admittedly woozy mind.

"Kurokuma said if we vote for someone dead and we're wrong, someone is randomized, right? But... Yoshiro wouldn't have died if he hadn't tripped the wire in the trap. So... it... it was his fault that he died. He caused the injury." Tears pricked at his eyes. It hurt. He hated this. I'm sorry, Yoshiro. "So it's not... wrong. And then no one has to die. Because it was Yoshiro, he did it, and... and since Nao is alive but keeps working against the rest of us, we could... we could maybe..." It was grasping at straws, but instead of waiting for someone else... he put in the votes that he felt were right. He put them in and hoped, hoped so much, that maybe it could make a difference.

[melancholic-cloud]

Let’s Face It, She Deserved That | Sachiko | Chapter 4 Trial | RE: ＥＶＥＲＹＴＨＩＮＧ

A few seconds seemed like such an agonizingly long eternity, staring the fencer down, challenging him to prove his innocence or confirm his involvement. For those brief moments, she may have even seemed smug about having struck such a nerve. But, while her wit may have been quick, her reflexes were considerably less so. By the time she’d begun to understand what was coming her way, it was already far too late to even consider trying to avoid it. That wasn’t enough warning. There was always warning. It hit her fast, hard, and all but narrowly missed sending her across the room. For all the shit Sachiko typically talked, not even in VR had she bothered with any sort of athleticism or physical strength. Normally she might have been ready to at least brace herself, but her arrogance and perhaps brief sense of superiority had left her completely unprepared to handle that. They’d argued before and nothing like that came of it. For several moments, the sheer shock and disorientation from the blow left her not entirely certain if that had really and truly just happened or not.

The pain blooming from where she’d been struck shortly after confirmed that either it had happened, or she was simply so overcome with emotion from relief that her cool new bestest buddy Matsuo was innocent that she slammed herself into a wall headfirst and fabricated the last five or so seconds so she would not have to remember having positive feelings for someone. The former was infinitely more plausible. A combination of wide-eyed, seething anger with just the faintest trace of barely-repressed fear crossed her face, almost seeming outraged that Matsuo had the audacity to strike her like that. She didn’t feel that it was warranted at all, unlike me and Chula and that’s it since everyone else still likes her for some reason. It was also around this time that, raising a hand to her face almost subconsciously, that she realized her nose was, in fact, bleeding. Nothing she’d never experienced before, but a royal pain in the ass nonetheless, especially with so much left to say and do.

Wordlessly, she absentmindedly wiped some of it away with her bare hand with about as much dignity as one can do that with, sparing Seiichi a glance - her glare was less directed at him but she was pissed enough that her tone was quite a lot sharper than she intended as she hissed that she was “Fine.” And then, back to Matsuo, trying to dig further into his entire being with nothing more than a scathing look. She wanted him to feel uncomfortable, wanted him to know damn well that she wasn’t going to let up now, that he had FUCKED UP. No matter how much that small, nagging part of her just wanted to give in and cry, no matter how desperately she just wanted it to be over, how badly she wished she could leave... someone had to be the asshole on behalf of several others, and that was where she excelled. With an unusually chill calm (even for her) to her voice, sharp edge still rather present, she did her damndest to look him in the eyes while she spoke. “Do you know what happened to the last man who thought he could hurt me like that, Krupin-san?” Of course he didn’t. No one knew except for Michi, and even that had been… embellished, somewhat. She’d probably regret letting herself get so caught up in this sort of petty bullshit just seconds after the words left her mouth, but she was, in all fairness, reasonably pissed off at having just been punched. Feelings were no good anyways. So what if someone else’s got hurt in the process of her little inbound tirade? What did that matter to her?

“... Consider yourself lucky if you never find out.” Clearly enough to not go into further detail about it for the sake of time. She’s still very clearly pissed, but trying to hold on to whatever scraps of rationality she can grasp. Going on about that would probably make at least one more person hysterical, and as much as she’d like to really tear into Matsuo for that, it wouldn’t even benefit her. It’s hard to do much of anything with any dignity considering the aftermath of that sweet punch from the same dude she’s still chewing out, but she’s trying her hardest to keep her head held high and figure out getting a tissue or something later. “From how agitated you’re getting over this, I’m sure everyone’s drawn a similar conclusion already. If you’d like to behave like a reasonable person while we finish talking things out, I’m sure everyone would appreciate it. I sincerely doubt there’s anything you could possibly say to exonerate yourself at this point, so maybe you’d like to try to holding on to whatever paltry scraps of dignity you can muster until we’re done? Thanks.” Taking a punch like a someone who’s never been hit in their life and then continuing to be a Mythic Bitch afterwards? Classic Sachiko maneuver. Haha yeah but okay her face was actually starting to really hurt and only her pride was stopping her from asking anyone within two podiums of her if they had anything she could like… use for her nosebleed. Ah well. If it stained, that’d… really suck. But maybe it’d reset back once the whole, ‘yeah alright you fucks finished the murder thing you’re allowed to be uninjured again’ was over with? If not, it’d be a real pain because she very much liked this outfit. Or else so help her, she’d figure out a way to kill Matsuo again. Everyone already knew Matsuo was guilty, but apparently some people were having second thoughts. Annoyed but clearly trying to let go of the more vitriolic feelings she was feeling, she turned to Seiichi. Originally, she was going to be a lot more snarky, but then it occurred to her again that she, Matsuo, and Fran had been the ones to find Ochako’s body in the first place. Even then, they’d gotten sidetracked by Yoshiro’s case, but… well. If the cases really weren’t related, it was possible that at least pretending to be okay about it would get them a lot further.

“... Let’s talk about this some more first.” It was the closest she could muster, considering she was still pretty pissed and a lot worse for wear than she’d expected to be, but it wasn’t an outright ‘no, fuck Matsuo, fuck him for daring to lay his fuckin’ bloodstained hands on me, kill the fucker.’ It’s almost hard to look away from Seiichi, so much pressure weighing down the room that even her hardened heart struggled to take it, but she had no idea how much anyone else had investigated Ochako’s death. She had no idea if they had even found everything. They would need to bring everything they had to the table - collectively - if there was any hope of catching the right trail. Sachiko inhaled, exhaling long and slow and like this was the most dreadful thing in the world to her. Hoshimi’s speculation was... interesting. There was always a possibility that someone another person didn’t like was involved somehow, but frankly, it would probably be better to start laying out some pieces first. “What we’re all fairly sure of, as far as I can tell, is that Senchamoto-san was killed, her body was frozen, and at some point before it would normally lock, brought to the observatory.”

That was probably reasonable enough. If anyone had any qualms with it, by all means they were more than welcome to say so. She had more to add, though, and while it may have partially been conjecture it seemed important to say. “So, I saw a few people while I was eating last night - François was already there when I showed up, Matsuo showed up a little later, and Ren popped in for a bit as well. I’d say that was probably around 11 or so? Anyways. I left after a while, headed to the vending machines. While I was there, I overheard a conversation between two people. Unfortunately, I couldn’t identify exactly who they were from where I was. All that I could distinguish was that one of them had a more masculine voice, which was softer, and the other was feminine - and while I have no definitive proof of this, I believe it’s entirely possible that this was Senchamoto-san.” Words poured from her mouth like blood from her nose, although it was probably a little harder to tell if that was still going or if it was just the blood she’d already bled still staining her face.

“For ease, I will henceforth refer to the feminine voice as Person B and the other as Person A.” Okay, Sachiko, just remember what you heard. Leave the other evidence to the Crying Boys for now, unless it turns out they’re crying too hard and she has to pick up after them later. God she hopes they’re going to be reasonable enough to tell the class what they found. Her annoyance was seeping through just a little bit, because all these emotions and feelings that people were having instead of suppressing until the trial was over were REALLY INCONVENIENT. The gaps in audibility were pretty annoying, and relying on her memory for incomplete conversation no less was strenuous, but if no one else had heard it, then it was absolutely critical to recount it as closely as possible. “Person A had been looking for Person B, for whatever reason. Person B mentioned specializing in… something, likely related to whatever Person A brought up. Person A saw something, said it was probably nothing, mentioned not wanting to bother… probably someone.”

She hadn’t seen anything unusual, but she sure had heard something a little strange.

“Person A said there was something in one of the rooms, speculated that someone was trying to do something, paused, said that rather than someone getting hurt, they’d… check it? A lot of it devolved into inaudible mumbling. Person B stated that they were flattered A came to them for help, I couldn’t hear the next bit, and then they seemed pretty adamant about going to inspect whatever ‘it’ was. Someone or something, apparently, would ‘know how’. Person A seemed to think it might be a waste of B’s time, said some more incoherent stuff, thanked them, said something about looking around - though it seemed they were hiding it from someone.” This was hard. Describing it adequately was hard. She’d just get it out best she could and, hopefully if anyone asked about anything specifically, it would jog her memory better. “Person B said it wasn’t a problem, and that it sounds all... something, help people anyways.” Damned gaps in conversation! It was like listening to someone on the phone in public and being annoyed because only having one side of a conversation is irritating, but with both people on the phone in one spot and STILL only getting half of it!

“A said something I couldn’t make out, paused, said something about ‘Probably go’ and that they would lead something or someone incoherent. Whatever B said after that wasn’t audible either, and I assume they left after that because I didn’t hear anything else.” She exhaled softly, not terribly enthused about the gaps and her imperfect account of events. But, it was what she had. “I apologize for the lack of coherence, but I could not hear the conversation in its entirety. I didn’t happen to see anything that seemed related at the time. But unless someone saw or heard anything to the contrary, I would say it’s entirely possible that Person B was Senchamoto-san. If this is true, it would provide a narrower time frame in which she could have died - and it’s entirely possible as well that whoever she was speaking to, assuming it was her, was somehow involved.” Sachiko tried to sound at least a little more confident than just… tired, but it was probably pretty clear that she was running on the fumes from her backup reserve of fucks to give which had long since been depleted.