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gabriel-gabdiel · 1 year ago

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【Draft】 Rurouni Yahiko Chapter 57: The Chinese Parade

Finally got a bit of momentum back at writing. It really does feel cathartic to write again. Plus, there's a new Rurouni Kenshin anime coming very soon, which is neat.

Pardon the bad formatting, typos, and run-on sentences. it’s the roughest of drafts.

Back at the exterior facade of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

Three things happened within the span of five seconds.

Five long seconds that seemingly went into slow motion for all those concerned.

As Kai Hidaka of the Fuuma Ninja Clan forcefully pulled at the speared Satoru Sakaguchi, he intended to either use him as an anchor to leap away from the attacking Kinta Minakata or as a meat shield if the lieutenant got dragged towards him instead.

Lieutenant Sakaguchi, thinking quickly, opted to allow Hidaka to pull at him instead to prevent his escape from Kinta.

The policeman charged and went into iaijutsu (quick-draw) position, intending to attack the rope-slinging brigand rather than be used as a pawn or collateral damage against Minakata.

Kinta now had no choice but to halt his momentum to prevent himself from slashing both Satoru and Kai apart with the Mangetsu O Tsuku Nari (Full Moon Slash).

That was the leeway Kai needed as he timed a jump at the last second before Lieutenant Sakaguchi could release his blade for a Half Moon Slash, his saber clashing against Minakata's Akatsuki (Red Moon) sword at the location where Hidaka stood a split second earlier.

By the time the Fuuma Clan Ninja reached the apex of his jump, he'd twisted and wrapped his body around a rope spear he'd shot into the ground below him.

Then he twisted towards the other direction, releasing all the potential energy he'd stored from coiling himself up like a mummy into kinetic motion.

***

Rurouni Yahiko

A Rurouni Kenshin Continuation Fan Fiction Story by Chester Castañeda

The Brigands are closing in on their Minakata V.I.P. targets. Can Yahiko and the Sakaguchis do anything against them?

Disclaimer: All characters used in this fanfic (save some others) are the rightful property of Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha, Shonen Jump, Viz, Sony Studios, Fuji TV, Studio Gallup, Studio Deen, and ADV. This disclaimer also covers all the other copyrighted materials that are far too many to mention here. Don't sue me please, I'm very poor.

***

Chapter 57: The Chinese Parade

***

Kai Hidaka twirled like a top that'd been released from being bound-up in rope or string, intending to kill two birds with one stone with the whirling dervish that was him and his dual-wielded blades.

Only for Minakata to shift his weight on his lead foot to pivot, lift his back foot, and turn to avoid Satoru altogether.

His back foot then turned into his lead foot after doing his initial pivot, giving him the leverage he needed to continue his Tsunami's supersonic strikes, intentionally missing as though practicing an iaijutsu kata (quick-draw form).

From there, he moved past Lieutenant Sakaguchi and charged at the spinning Kai, barely losing any of his momentum. He then adjusted the trajectory of his sword to slash at Kai's revolving blades without missing a beat.

As though he turned his missed swings into an intentional part of his kata until he recovered enough to actually hit his target.

'Kinta-kun…!' thought Satoru, who himself turned to witness the Mimawarigumi Battousai clashi blades with the Brigand's resident ninja.

Kai scowled. Dammit. The Kagemusha (Shadow Warrior) did it again. He found a way to win.

Regardless, Hidaka used the recoil from his blades after they clashed hard against Kinta's Full Moon Slash to rebound back to the sky and avoid the Blue Moon Slash he knew was coming.

He then did a pirouette to redirect the trajectory of his body and land behind Satoru, using him as his human shield against Kinta like he had originally intended.

"DIE, SEIRYU CLAN!" Kai cried out, which surprised both Kinta and Satoru.

'Seiryu Clan…?' they thought in unison.

Hmmm. They were the Seiryu Clan, weren't they? Both of them knew the Brigands Guild member had a point. The name had a nice ring to it too.

Their clan indeed involved the partnership between high-ranked hatamoto samurais who only answered to the daimyo and low-ranked subordinate samurais under them.

Kai Hidaka had intended for Minakata to use up the last of his stamina to make himself easy pickings for himself or for Kinta's half-brother, Lucas Grant (the man who proposed that their guild take this dangerous mission in the first place).

A mission close to Lucas's heart. For the Prodigal Son, this time it was personal.

Then again, Kai also saw it as a personal mission in a certain point of view.

Hidaka then noticed that Satoru fell into the infamous Waning Stance. The defensive stance of Musou Madden Ryu where the user faced away from the opponent instead of forward.

As usual. How typical of the cowardly Lieutenant Satoru Sakaguchi. The sidekick of Kinta. The Kagemusha of the Kagemusha.

An ordinary police officer stuck into extraordinary circumstances. A family man with a wife and daughter to boot. Or an about-to-be widow and her daughter, at any rate.

Hidaka figured out that the Waning Stance was simply the Waxing Stance seen from behind.

Attacks happened much slower from the Waning Stance because the point of release happened from the front of the quick-draw swordsman and they had to loop around in a circle care of the resulting follow-through.

This defensive stance hid the trajectory of the sword, allowing for a 360-degree quick-draw slash that depended more on timing than speed to work.

Regardless, Kai had almost stabbed through Satoru to get to Kinta and injure him. Or at least distract him enough to the point of making a mistake.

Well, almost.

***

At the front door of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

A banker, a ninja, and a samurai all gathered at the front porch of the Minakata moneychanger building. No, that wasn't the start of a joke.

However, the ridiculous circumstances did push them to the brink of hilarity in the point of view of situational irony.

Thusly, none of them understood the resulting punch line.

Regardless, the thick wooden doors before them burst open long after they had closed them earlier, as though demanding they come back inside.

The jaws of Yahiko Myojin, Kaita of the Sanada Ninja Clan, and Tatsuya Minakata figuratively dropped on the floor at the sight before them. A sight to cause sore eyes on the part of Tatsuya, for sure.

Despite their best efforts, The Faceless—also known as Seth Merrick, John Rathbone, or even Fabian La Cerca—had breached through the defenses of the Sanada Ninja that ran interference for them, driving the bloody bat-themed spy through the door with a rapier stab.

Like Hajime Saito would with his fearsome Gatotsu stabbing technique.

"Baku!" exclaimed Kaita, which was the first time Yahiko heard the invisible ninja raise his voice. The master of camouflage seemed more like the quiet type, so the shout surprised the Tokyo Samurai Descendant a tiny bit.

Wide-eyed, Yahiko witnessed the bloodied bat-themed ninja screech and holler a war cry, a haunting noise which made him realize the inhuman screams he heard from before was actually from the shadow warrior all along.

Only for The Faceless to do a Beat, Parry, and Riposte to counter him, driving him to the ground and turning him into a human plow.

"Ahhh! Monsters! They're all MONSTERS!" screamed the horseman they found who was supposed to drive the carriage.

He then ran away on foot at the frightening sight of The Faceless painting the front porch with Baku's blood.

"Come back, you coward!" demanded Tatsuya, who had half the mind to shoot the driver to put him away from his misery.

"SHIT!" cursed Yahiko while Kaita also did so, but under his breath. Then again, good thing the carriage driver didn't end up driving away with their getaway vehicle.

Aloud, the teenaged samurai asked Kaita, "The ninja uses screams to mess with his target somehow, right? Like maybe burst his eardrums or give him vertigo?"

He based this on his experience with Kenshin Himura fighting Enishi Yukishiro. Kenshin defeated Enishi's "Nerves of Insanity" by the supersonic sheathing of his sword that burst the wattoujutsu expert's eardrum with a high-pitched sound.

From behind Yahiko, Kaita said, "You're on the right track. Baku's screams disrupts a swordsman's ability to read kenki (swordsman presence) and sakki (bloodlust) by using infrasound vibrations."

Indeed, Yahiko couldn't clearly get a read on the intentions of Baku even from that distance, his bloodlust and swordsman presence masked with distracting supersonic screeches.

Like how the Kekkai no Mori (Sealing Forest) sealed away Kenshin's ability to detect bloodlust by the strange magnetic field surrounding it when he faced off against the Yaminobu Ninjas.

Kaita frowned, his kunai at the ready. Originally, Baku used his shrieks in order to strike fear in his targets and echolocate them from a distance or even in pitch-black darkness like bats would.

Baku trained for years to turn his screams into kenki disruptors, getting him on equal footing with the likes of the sharpshooter ninja Zan.

"However, the foreigner's swordsmanship style probably doesn't sense bloodlust the way Japanese swordsmen do, so Baku instead used his infrasound screams to disrupt his rhythm," Kaita surmised.

"He can do that?" said Yahiko in wonder.

Kaita nodded. "But his expertise only somehow woke up a sleeping giant. That man, The Faceless, is dangerous."

'You don't have to tell me twice,' thought Myojin, remembering how hard it was to hit or penetrate through the parries of the expert fencer who was always two steps ahead of him.

"Once you nitwits are done congratulating my assassin for a job well done, can you please save my life, if you don't mind?!" demanded the gaunt Minakata uncle, Tatsuya.

Fabian La Cerca did one flick of his sword in order to fling the blood on the ground. "Now where were we? Ah yes. Minakata Tatsuya. Prepare to die."

"AH! Don't come near me, you freak!" cried the banker, his pistol at the ready.

Both Yahiko and Kaita acted quickly, hoping they had the same idea in saving Tatsuya from harm. Or that their ideas didn't clash against each other.

Thusly, Kaita disappeared from view, like an apparition in twilight.

'Godammit,' thought Myojin, hoping against hope that the Minakata Family's ninja didn't just abandon them like their horse carriage driver did.

He then swung at the ground at full force to do an explosive "Dou Gami! (God on Earth)", only for him to shift quickly into a "DOU RYU SEN! (EARTH DRAGON FLASH!)" as soon as the fencer assassin dodged to the side to redirect all that loosened earth towards the direction of his dodge.

Yahiko then grit his teeth when Fabian also slipped, slid, parried, and deflected the resulting landslide of rocks and debris as though doing a fencing duel with it.

What was up with this guy?!

Then, just in time, Kaita the Ninja drove the carriage in front of Yahiko and Tatsuya, beckoning them to get in. He actually fetched their getaway car in time before The Faceless could get to them.

"Get in," beckoned the ninja, who threw kunai at La Cerca even as he dodged the rock shards and debris Yahiko flung at him earlier. "Lord Minakata. Yojimbo (Bodyguard). Let's go."

"Whew, I thought you abandoned us for a second there!" confessed Yahiko, who wiped the sweat off his brow.

"Not to worry. I'll stick with you like I'm your shadow," the Sanada Ninja reassured.

"Hmmm," grunted The Faceless because by the time he realized what had happened, his target and his guards had gotten away. "Touché, Minakata Tatsuya. Your bodyguards have impressed me."

***

Back at the exterior facade of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

Hidaka had anticipated the Full Moon Slash from the Waning Stance of Satoru, so he countered with a stab instead of a slash since that was the quicker attack.

However, Kai merely clipped the turning back of the policeman. As expected, contact with the ninja's blade made the lieutenant move like a booby trap that had been tripped.

The acrobatic Fuuma ninja sidestepped the resulting slash by reflex as soon as he saw the glinting blade appear in the moonlight, figuring out its trajectory by sight.

Hidaka then attacked with another lunging stab, knowing full well that Satoru was no Kinta Minakata and thusly wasn't capable of the Blue Moon Slash (or Double Full Moon Slash).

The shadow warrior now had leverage against Kinta and his supersonic slashes—i.e., an injured Officer Sakaguchi—while also buying himself time until Lucas arrived.

'What…?! Impossible!' thought Hidaka, who almost got bisected into two halves with a follow-up Full Moon Slash.

'A Double Full Moon Slash? A Blue Moon Slash?! That mere copper was capable of this advanced technique?!'

Unbeknownst to him though, Satoru Sakaguchi had one more trick up his sleeve.

Instead of doing the Full Moon Slash twice, Satoru instead did the Waning Gibbous Moon Slash, allowing him a slightly faster recovery time to execute a Pseudo Blue Moon Slash.

Even though Satoru couldn't do a Blue Moon Slash like Kinta could, he could fake the technique by instead doing a Waning Gibbous Slash that resembled a Full Moon Slash, allowing him a quick enough follow through to unleash a real Full Moon Slash soon after.

Thus, the opening that the Fuuma ninja thought was there got him slashed apart instead with an actual Full Moon Slash.

Such was the power of the Suigetsu O Tsuku Nari (Water Moon Slash or Illusion Moon Slash).

Like the reflection of the moon on the water, Satoru fooled Kai into thinking his Waning Gibbous Moon Slash and Full Moon Slash combo was the Blue Moon Slash.

It took advantage of the fact that the preparatory motion for all the slashes of Musou Madden Ryu appeared the same until release.

Hidaka fell for the Illusion Moon Slash hook, line, and sinker.

***

In the middle of Yokohama's Chinatown...

They were home-free. The two bodyguards, the samurai and the ninja, fulfilled their mission of protecting Kinta Minakata's uncle, Tatsuya.

Kaita, though with some difficulty due to lack of horse-riding experience, took he reins of the horses of the horse-drawn carriage that served as their getaway ride.

Yahiko bought them enough time to stave off the advance of The Faceless, the gaijin (foreign outsider) partner of the Minakata Family's Prodigal Son, Lucas Grant, in time to escape.

So why did they feel like something was amiss? Like something horrible was about to happen?

They slowed down to a crawl instead of riding straight through the streets of Yokohama's Chinatown in order to get back to one of many Minakata Zaibatsu mansions.

They ended up stuck with other carriages as a parade of dancing Chinese and Japanese folk as well as their half-Chinese, half-Japanese offspring went through the streets in celebratory fashion.

"What's going on? Why aren't we moving?" demanded Tatsuya, looking like a carved bronze statue of himself sitting on cushioned carriage seats.

"Relax, Minakata-dono," reassured Kaita. "There's just a parade happening. For some sort of Chinese holiday or festival."

"Ah, the Dongzhi Festival, huh?" Tatsuya allowed his tense shoulders to relax, his back finally slumping down on his seat's cushioned backrest. He'd previously been as stiff as a board this entire time.

As a local of Yokohama, he was familiar with the customs of the area. "Fine. Let's wait it out and find the nearest shortcut. I want to be hundreds of kilometers away from those maniacs."

The Dongzhi Festival or Winter Solstice Festival was celebrated during the Dongzhi solar term (winter solstice), during any day from December 21 to December 23. It was supposedly celebrated to ensure good yin-and-yang balance for the coming season.

After the celebration, it was believed the days would have longer daylight hours and more positive energy flowing in.

Different cultures celebrated the Chinese holiday in different ways, with them eating anything from glutinous tangyuan (rice balls) or dongzhi (dumplings) and quhan jiaoer tang (hot dumpling soup that expelled the cold).

Perhaps they were just being paranoid.

'Like hell we are…!' thought the antsy Yahiko as he scanned their surroundings, his hand clasping the hilt of the Hitokiri Battousai's sakabatou (reverse-edged blade).

"Wait a second," began Tatsuya. Something was amiss.

The Minakata banker then reminded his two bodyguards that it wasn't December 21st, 22nd, or 23rd today. The correct dates for the Winter Solstice Festival.

Also, the Dongzhi Festival wasn't celebrated with a parade of uproarious people in the streets and a Chinese lion mascot dance like it was the Chinese New Year. Families ate dumplings, sticky rice balls, or soup instead.

Kaita attempted to turn the carriage around in order to find a better avenue for their escape, but soon they ended up surrounded by the suspicious merrymakers.

Also, the lion mascot doing the Chinese lion dance—a southern lion mascot, Tatsuya informed them—started approaching them.

***

Back at the exterior facade of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

God damn it. Damn it all to hell. Once again, that damnable Satoru Sakaguchi got in Kai Hidaka's way. Once again, the Fuuma ninja underestimated his childhood rival.

He swore to every Japanese god known to man, he'd make that son of a bitch pay.

As Kai fell to the ground in a spray of crimson, everyone present heard a loud crash from the wall facing them, which drowned out the wet splat of his own painful drop.

The ninja scrambled up to his feet in anticipation, ignoring the sting of Satoru's saber on his person.

If he had somehow made it out of the offices of the Minakatas, then the Brigands Guild still had a chance to complete the mission to finish off the strongest Minakata.

And as if on cue, Lucas Grant emerged from the dust clouds, smoke, wood, and plaster he plowed through like so much cardboard and tinder.

The blood then drained from Kai's face when he saw the bloody state that the Prodigal Son was in. He looked like a pincushion, with all sorts of darts, shuriken, knives, and other sharp objects stuck on his person.

For his part, Lucas walked like a drunkard, his clothes stained red from all the blood he lost.

'What the hell happened?!' Hidaka thought, his mind going a mile a minute while his own blood pooled from underneath him.

"Goddamn you, Sanada Demon!" cursed Luke. "Come back here, coward! Stand still and fight like a man, Zan!"

'Demon…?' thought Kai. 'I guess he is a demon.'

The Sanada Demon known as Zan then appeared from behind Kinta, startling the swordsman. His demonic red Noh mask, devilish garb, and oversized war fork would give anyone a fright.

"I've softened him up for you, Minakata-dono," said the strongest of the Sanada Demons as he bowed to his lord. "He's ripe for the kill."

"…." was what Kinta had to say about that.

'Who the hell is this?' thought Kai. 'We weren't briefed about the Minakatas having these other ninjas under their employment! Our scouts only spotted at least two ninja bodyguards, with the rest acting more like liaisons than warriors!'

"We can take him on together, m'lord. Now's our chance," Zan said to Kinta while both shielded Lieutenant Satoru from the rest of the brigands as the officer tended to his daughter's injuries. "We must strike iron while it's hot, before he recovers!"

Kai grabbed his head, forgetting he had a mask on that kept him from tearing his hair out.

'DAH! That was our plan! Lucas and I were supposed to converge on the Kagemusha then have The Faceless finish him off! Everything's going south for us!'

"Keh. Fine by me," boasted, perhaps bluffed, the woozy Lucas. "Two against one, huh? As expected of you sneaky orientals. I can take both of you gutless cowards on!"

The Mimawarigumi Battousai shook his head at Zan, which prompted the ninja to complain, "Please, listen to reason, m'lord! Now is not the time to treat the enemy with honor. We must be practical and pragmatic about this. I know he's your brother, but…!"

Kinta turned towards Zan and shook his head. "I refuse to gang up against an injured man."

This took Lucas aback. "Bloody hell. What's this now? Japanese honor? The code of the samurai? I told'ya I'm good with you two going up against me at the same time! Come at me, big brother!"

"…Understood, m'lord," said Zan with a sigh and a bow to Kinta before he struck his war fork on the ground, making it tremble and shake once more. "As you wish, Minakata-sama. I'll finish him off myself."

Sneering, Lucas then said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Don't make my life difficult and I won't make your life short."

***

In the middle of the Chinese parade...

A northern lion mascot had a fiercer face, painted-on eyes, boxier jaw, and visible sharp teeth. A southern lion mascot has pouted fish lips, blinking eyes, and a moveable jaw.

So it felt surreal to have the adorable fish-lipped lion mascot staring back at Tatsuya, Yahiko, and Kaita, filling them with dread and uncertainty.

The lion dance was developed to scare away evil spirits and bring luck to the audience participating in it. It involved the lion mascot eating cabbages then spitting it out the audience as a sign of good fortune.

Legend had it that the lion dance started because a monster once would attack a village once a year to eat all the food or even the babies of the villagers. Until one day, a monk came to the village and tamed the monster by tying a red ribbon on its horn.

Afterwards, the monster acted as the village guardian, protecting everyone instead of eating their babies and some such.

Other stories alleged that the gods cut the monster's head off, but Guan Yin (The Chinese Goddess of Mercy) brought it back to life, which also turned it into a village guardian.

Thusly, the Lion Guardian of Yokohama Chinatown peered straight at them with blinking (puppet) eyes.

They were left in a conundrum. Should they go out of the carriage and move by foot? Or should they stay there trapped like rats in the middle of a slow-moving parade?

If this was all part of the Brigands Guild plan, they were screwed either way.

"Go out and see what it wants," Tatsuya ordered Yahiko as though he were his butler telling him to see who was at his door.

"ME? Why me? Why not your personal ninja?" balked Myojin.

The Elder Minakata said, "He's not my ninja, he's Kinta's. Also, he's driving the coach so he's staying here with me."

The teenaged samurai rolled his eyes. "All right. Fine. I'll go out. You two stay here."

"Oh yeah. Don't give the lion something white to eat," said Tatsuya. "It hates that."

"That's weird," said Yahiko. "Why is that?"

"It's Chinese superstition, you nincompoop," said the banker.

'Ugh. What an asshole.' Resisting the urge to throw Kinta's uncle to the proverbial wolves, Yahiko exited the vehicle and stood guard in front of it, his sword at the ready.

The lion dance mascot took one look at the samurai kid, spewed bits of cabbage at him, and then left him alone.

Huh. Yahiko then remembered Tatsuya telling them that, as part of the lion dance, the lion mascot pretended to eat lettuce and cabbages offered to it before it spat it out back to the business owners and audience.

This symbolized blessing them with wealth and prosperity in the coming year.

After merely ten seconds, Yahiko realized the danger he, Minakata, and Kaita faced.

What if the parade of merrymakers were real and filled with actual Chinatown residents, but mixed with the mercenaries hired by the Brigands Guild to do their bidding?

A crowd was the perfect place to kidnap dignitaries and assassinate V.I.P.s Bodyguards would have a hard time telling which was friend or foe. Normal citizens or actual assassins.

"Is the coast clear? Let me out. I'm going back to my mansion on foot, if I have to!" complained Tatsuya, who swung open the carriage door only for Yahiko to shut it close and shush him. "Wha…? How DARE you shush me, Bodyguard!"

"Please keep quiet, you ghoul," hissed Yahiko.

"Gh-Ghoul?! How dare you…!" hissed Tatsuya in return, only to get shushed further.

"We're being watched. They want you to get out of the carriage and get lost in the crowd."

Although he grumbled, Kinta's uncle shut the door of the carriage and did what he was told.

"Ninja, take care of Kinta's uncle while you're in there, okay?" said Yahiko, to which Kaita nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, on his part, Myojin remained at the entrance of the carriage and focused. He remembered his training with Kaoru and Kenshin.

He trained mostly in Kamiya Kasshin Ryu and partly in Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu (mostly self-taught), specifically in the art of reading the air. Reading intentions before anyone even acted upon them.

Spreading his swordsman's presence to feel the ripples and detect the malice and blood thirst of those around him.

A couple of stray leaves snapped and popped before the Tokyo Samurai Descendant.

Yahiko snatched the hand of a man with a knife and twisted it. He then did a judo throw to him, also taught to him by Kaoru. This scared the person away.

Without looking, he batted away what might've been a poison dart, and then blocked a cleaver attack with the iron scabbard of the sakabatou.

Most of the sneak attacks on Yahiko's person, he stopped by gutting them with the hilt or tip of the reverse sword, with him not needing to draw its naked blade.

All these attempts at violence by rank-amateur mercenaries paled in comparison to dealing with the long-distance shots of the likes of May Brooks and her naginatajutsu.

He could dodge, counter, and manhandle everyone all day

However, Myojin actually fell for the Brigands Guild's Plan B. While he busied himself staving the attacks of disguised assassins and hired hitmen at one door, the lion mascot snuck to the other side of the carriage.

"Yojimbo! Myojin Yahiko, the other door…!" warned Kaita, his kunai at the ready while he reined in the neighing horses to calm them down.

Awakened from his trance-like flow state, Yahiko forced open the carriage in time to see the southern lion mascot "eat" (as in open its puppet jaws and grab hold with multiple hands) the person he was supposed to be protecting, Tatsuya, unto itself.

Afterwards, the giant mascot blasted cabbages at the horses like from a canon or a firework, spooking them and forcing Kaita to hold on for dear life and they all went buck wild.

Ironically, for the first time, the slow-moving parade finally gave way for the carriage to go through.

What the hell just happened?

***

Back at the exterior facade of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

"Daughter! Daughter! Kyoko, are you all right?" called out the worried Satoru, who cradled his little girl's head while pain still emanated all over her body from her attempt at a Full Moon Slash.

"I-I'm all right, Daddy. Thank you for saving both me and Kinta-sama."

Her vision cleared, and the first thing she saw was her father's worried face. Afterwards, her eyes traveled to Kinta, who stood perfectly still, looking none the worse for wear save for him looking sweatier than usual.

Dimly, she marveled at how her father and Kinta could continuously due such straining techniques in the heat of battle. Boys sure were made of sterner stuff.

However, this also had her worried. She now knew firsthand the incredible strength, agility, physical fitness, and skill to pull off those dangerous moves.

Even with their training and physical strength, they were both only human. Even they might end up like her, with pulled muscles or ripped tendons from the effort of performing Musou Madden Ryu techniques.

She also saw the hateful Kai on all fours, crawling in a pool of his own blood. Served him right.

She wasn't a violent person by nature and she hated the sight of blood, but in the case of that creep, she made an exception.

Her eyes then settled unto Kinta Minakata's tall, blond, and handsome attacker, charging through a hailstorm of knives and daggers while swiping his European longsword at one of Kinta's ninja bodyguards.

Even though the bloodied blond devil's longsword had quite the reach itself, the devilish masked ninja had an even longer weapon he used like a lance, with every strike making it vibrate and hum the drone of a million hornets.

If she could hazard a guess, she'd bet there was some sort of trick that the ninja was using in order for him to accurately and unerringly strike down the gaijin assassin like target practice.

The war fork's vibrations and droning sound could be simulating the way swordsmen sense the intent of their opponents.

Like ripples from a disturbed pond bouncing back at anything that got in their way, revealing their shape and location.

Like a swordsman's kenki (swordsman ki) reacting to the sakki (bloodlust) of nearby opponents.

By all accounts, the fight was all over. They'd won. Kinta was safe. His assassins were struggling.

However, Kyoko's female intuition screamed at her to keep her eyes peeled. And her hands on her sword's handle.

But maybe she was just being paranoid.

Kinta was strong enough to do the Full Moon Slash without straining or injuring himself like she did.

His assassin was on the verge of being defeated without her or her father's help. They only needed to wait a little longer. Then they could go home and forget all this.

She swallowed down the lump of fear and panic in her throat and watched someone get stabbed to death bit by bit.

She forced herself to watch the grisly affair to prove her persistent feeling of dread wrong.

***

Back in the streets of the Yokohama Chinatown…

Yahiko couldn't tell if the parade was a premeditated ruse to lure any escaping Minakatas into a death trap or if the Brigands timed their assassination plot in the middle of a parade.

Regardless, he was in the thick of it and it seemed like he was taking out thousands of mercenaries in disguise one after another.

He couldn't tell friend from foe or bystander from hired merc and that was probably the whole idea of this Chinese parade "finger trap".

After all, he wasn't totally sure they were sneaky mercenaries with hidden knives or clumsy and drunk parade goers.

Thusly, he did his best to avoid hurting innocent bystanders by doing things like making his attackers slip and fall or snatching their weapons away with his shirahadori (barehanded blade blocking) techniques.

The pacifistic Kenshin would probably approve of Yahiko's attempts to minimize any potential collateral damage in the middle of a skirmish, at least.

He chased the lion dance mascot all the way into a crowded wet market, and the parade's jolly dancers seemingly made their way there as well.

However, every time Myojin got near, he got bombarded by kicks and punches hidden underneath the flowing costume of the lion mascot. They essentially used hit and run tactics to escape their swordsman pursuer.

He had to contend with hidden mercenaries at every corner and martial artists trained in kung fu wearing a gigantic lion costume every step of the way.

The kendoist herded the multi-feet, caterpillar-like mascot puppet into the nearest, narrowest corner alleyway he could find, their shoes muddied by splashing puddles as he pushed them towards a dead end.

"Let the Thin Man go, bastards! He ain't my cup of tea either, but I won't let you kidnap him! Much less kill him! DOU…!"

It was then that Yahiko realized where they'd ended up at. Back near the Minakata moneychanger office building. Right into the waiting hands of The Faceless.

"I've already seen that attack before. Has your bag of tricks run out?" Fabian La Cerca asked Yahiko Myojin.

Meanwhile, the samurai kid's attempt at another God on Earth got blocked hard by Fabian's sharp and thick rapier, the clang of the blades making the sakabatou vibrate like a tuning fork. Or Zan's war fork.

"Faceless!" said Yahiko, remembering the name Kaita gave the, for lack of a better term, gaijin ninja. "Uh, fancy meeting you here…?"

"Quiet, you popinjay," said the smug La Cerca. "You've fallen right into our trap. Our Chinese mercenaries serve as our insurance policy against any unforeseen hindrances. Now hand over the Kagemusha's relative this instant!"

Yahiko had figuratively ended up between a rock and a hard place, facing off against a multi-limbed kung fu pseudo-lion and a sword-wielding maniac with no face.

***

Kai Hidaka had seen enough.

Styles made fights and obviously, Lucas Grant was no match against the long-distance projectile thrower with a war fork.

Had Zan and the Kagemusha joined forces to defeat Lucas, it would've been all over already.

However, as it was, the red devil ninja was more than enough to take care of the novice mercenary.

Where the hell was The Faceless anyway? He was supposed to be the veteran leader of the Brigands Guild. Their organizer. Their finisher.

Ever since joining the ranks of the Brigands Guild like a soldier in the foreign legion, Kai imagined he'd die someday due to some mission in faraway lands like Constantinople, Hindustan, Siam, Burma, Zaire, or Holland.

Never in his wildest dreams did he fathom he'd die back in his homeland of Japan.

All the same, the goggled warrior picked himself up from the pavement and willed himself to go once more unto the breach.

If he was going to die anyway then he'd do so like a man.

Then maybe he'd haunt that idiot Faceless and his multiple personalities (or disguises) for good measure! He was nowhere to be found when they needed him the most!

Zan the daredevil ninja saw Kai approach and thusly shot him full of blades and projectiles, intending to turn him into a pincushion for multiple blades like Lucas Grant.

Or like Musashibo Benkei who died standing while shot full of arrows or Julius Caesar and his body stabbed by multiple senatorial daggers.

However, much to Kai Hidaka's surprise, Kinta Minakata charged alongside him.

Kinta headed straight towards Lucas as soon as Kai decided to act as the distraction for Zan.

What was the Mimawarigumi Battousai doing? Was he finally willing to fight his half-brother now that it was a one-on-one battle or a much fairer fight than before?

Kinta and Lucas were face-to-face once again—The Prodigal Son versus The Minakata Heir.

"Hello, brother," said Lucas with a bloody grin. "Have you changed your mind? Or do you now feel like this is more of a fair fight, Mr. Samurai?"

Kinta kept quiet as he fell into the Waning Stance, his back turned on his bastard brother and his bastard sword.

'What's going on?' Hidaka wondered before dodging and slicing the flying knives and shuriken thrown at him by the sharpshooter ninja.

***

Back at a narrow alleyway in the Yokohama Chinatown near the Minakata moneychanger offices…

"I'll make this duel short to save you fatigue," said La Cerca to Yahiko, who fell into his fencing En Garde stance and did probing stabs at the samurai kid's defense. With both his rapier and his dagger.

"Duel?! You're ganging up on me, you masked coward!" came Myojin's retort, which in no way helped him against The Faceless' riposte.

The troublesome dagger served as both his extra shield and extra weapon, with him shifting defense and offense between rapier and dagger.

Meanwhile, at the same time from behind him, an oversized, ridiculous lion puppet kept snapping its jaws at him with camouflaged fists and brass knuckles as well as kicks with hidden shoe blades.

It hardly seemed fair. It was like two against one. Or more like eleven against one.

Up to ten people could fit inside the lion mascot, although Yahiko wondered if Tatsuya was forced to serve as the eleventh person inside the puppet, so technically it was twelve against one.

Regardless, the poor kid got bludgeoned by kicks and punches from a lion mascot and wounded by stabs and slashes by the masked fencer.

Wiping the trickle of blood from his busted lip, Yahiko realized he could barely counter any of the attacks because whatever openings either opponent had was taken care of by the other's offensive, forcing him to remain on the defensive.

Dammit. He got beat up at every front, drowning in the winding rapids full of fists, feet, and sword stabs. Like he'd fallen from a waterfall directly into a swamp filled with man-eating gators.

Normally, fighting against The Faceless felt like fighting against a ghost. The Tokyo Samurai Descendant could throw confetti at him and none of them would land.

Now, it felt impossible to take him on with his guard lion running interference for him, wearing his defense down and keeping his offense limited.

The lion dance mascot clamped its puppet jaws at the reversed blade of Yahiko's sakabatou, which forced the kid to use his metal scabbard to block and parry La Cerca's resulting attacks instead.

Laughing like an unhinged lunatic, Fabian declared, "¡Ya me tienes harto! ¡Vete a la chingada! (I'm done with you! Go fuck yourself!)", and of course Myojin couldn't understand a word he said.

The lion mascot then wrenched Kenshin's sword away from Yahiko's lead hand at the same time as The Faceless disarmed his rear hand of his iron sheathe.

He was now weaponless. Unarmed.

***

Back at the exterior facade of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

Hidaka's twitch reflexes allowed him to dodge the flying sharp objects headed towards him at bullet speed much better than his teammate Lucas, who weathered such a storm of steel like a human meat shield. Or a sitting duck.

"Missed me," mocked Kai.

"Impressive," admitted Zan. "You're a harder target to hit than the Prodigal Son."

Like a knight in heavy armor and a gigantic shield, but he lacked both of those as he let Zan turn him into target practice. 'What an idiot.'

The ninja had figured out the secret behind the sharpshooter's unerring accuracy. Zan could somehow detect the sound waves from his war fork and used it like bats would for echolocation.

He also wisely circled around and tested the area of effect of Zan's vibrating war fork, crawling across its perimeter to make the demonic ninja miss his mark.

He winced at the effort, the laceration given to him by Officer Satoru made his chest feel like it was set ablaze.

His high-flying acrobatic ninjutsu had saved his life countless times in countless missions overseas. However, most of those he faced weren't familiar with the way of the ninja at all.

This time, he confronted one of his own right in his motherland. The birthplace of ninjas.

The darkness was not Kai's ally. Zan grew up in that same darkness. Molded by it. They both didn't see the light until they were men.

They were cut from the same cloth. They were the same kind of animal in a violent dogfight, biting and clawing at each other for in a fight for survival.

He flew across the dome-like area that served as Zan's tripwire to fling his projectiles.

In other words, the outer fringe of Zan's echolocation chamber was where his aim was the least accurate, so Kai could dodge the easiest from there.

From within the sonar dome, the spidery ninja then deployed three-dimensional movement with grappling hooks and ropes that included jumps and flying in midair to dodge while his whirling blades deflected any projectile he couldn't avoid in time.

Going airborne allowed Hidaka to get in the mid-range of the Sanada Demon's war fork sound waves while still being able to dodge in X, Y, and Z-axis despite Zan's heightened echolocation senses.

Hidaka wasn't only dodging from left or right. He also had the freedom to jump ahead or even twist in midair, his twin rotating blades also serving as his means to parry any incoming projectile.

"Missed me again," said Kai.

For his part, Zan acknowledged, "Yes. Not for long, though."

The Fuuma Ninja threw his own rope projectiles at the Sanada Demon to bind and hogtie him, but Zan himself dodged those easily.

Now was the moment of truth.

***

Back at a narrow alleyway in the Yokohama Chinatown near the Minakata moneychanger offices…

Thinking fast, Yahiko ran towards the strangely adorable lion mascot, aware that from behind him, The Faceless was hot off his heels.

The Son of Tokyo Samurai then threw something at the gap between the lion's slightly ajar jaws (it "bit" on his sword, after all), which it received by reflex. Like the cabbage fed to it during the parade.

The mascot then opened the jaw up and "choked out" the white streamer that Yahiko pick-pocketed earlier to the ground, along with the sakabatou.

The boy remembered what Tatsuya said about the Chinese superstition of never "feeding" the lion dance mascot anything that was colored white because that was bad luck.

The silly superstition made the hardened kung fu mercenaries panic and "spew" the streamer out, which gave the unarmed Myojin the opportunity to snatch back his stolen sakabatou from the ground and enter the lion costume from the agape mouth.

He had finally entered the belly of the beast.

From there, chaos ensued.

Fabian La Cerca could only stare, his own mouth agape but hidden behind a plain white mask, as an armed Yahiko beat up his hired hitmen from inside their battle puppet.

From inside the costume, the teenager used his bloodlust detection training he did with Satsuki to bludgeon the wriggling mass of humanity within the costume. Attacking like a virus or bacterial infection.

Like a cape or a curtain, the lion costume unfurled, revealing a triumphant Myojin and a sweaty Elder Minakata who slumped on the kid's shoulders.

Yahiko took a long gasp of air that looked like a yawn. Man, did it stink inside that lion suit!

"I thought I was going to DIE!" said the gasping and wheezing Tatsuya. He slapped his bodyguard upside the head, but he lacked strength, so it came off as more of a nudge.

"Ow! Hey, what was that for?" asked Yahiko. What an ingrate.

"Th-That's for getting me captured in the first place, idiot! Y-You e-even made us run all the way here!" wheezed Minakata, who while nabbed by the lion costume operators, was forced to move in cadence with them at knifepoint.

"Yeah, you're welcome for saving your life," muttered Myojin with an eye roll while considering throwing the V.I.P. back to his kidnappers or to The Faceless.

Unbelievable. The samurai boy took out all those men by himself using finesse and creativity. He was cunning as a fox. Or perhaps he was a fellow thief like himself…?

Who was this interloper anyway?

With a harrumph, the masked assassin said, "Fine. I'll just finish you both off from here. It's like killing two birds with one stone."

Yahiko yelped, who had no choice but to let go of the tired Tatsuya as he fell into his Chudan-no-Kamae (Water Stance) and parried the lunging fencer's rapier before him.

***

Back at the exterior facade of the Minakata moneychanger office building…

"Can't catch me," taunted Kai.

"I've missed every shot so far. But I'm getting closer," said Zan.

"Is that a threat?" asked Kai.

Zan answered, "No, it's a promise."

The Fuuma Ninja used every dodge, parry, and block he could muster to get near the Sanada Ninja and his echolocation. He avoided projectiles on the ground from far away.

He leaped and used midair three-dimensional movement to avoid more blades and darts from midrange. He even threw his own rope darts and grappling hooks at Zan for good measure.

In a mere second, he got clipped on the shoulder by a blade, followed by stabbed on the lead foot with a shuriken and sliced on the rear thigh by the vibrating warfork.

"Almost there," taunted Zan.

He'd charged too close to dodge the sharp-shooting Zan. It was now or never.

Ignoring the screaming, burning pain from the severed nerve endings of his growing list of injuries, Kai Hidaka spun like a top with his twin blades serving as the razor tips of his human shuriken impression.

His blades rotated like the rotors of a windmill, the fins of a pinwheel, or the spokes of a wheel.

He intended to cut through every last projectile at a distance so close, Zan's primitive sonar abilities wouldn't matter anymore.

However, all Zan did was block the rotating Fuuma Ninja's blades with his war fork, which made it vibrate enough to give him enough echolocation sound waves to stab him multiple times with multiple knives with unerring accuracy.

"OH SHI—!"

Zan himself managed to avoid the rotating blades and stick knives into Kai's body between every rotation.

Zan then hissed, "Bull's eye."

Dammit. It didn't work.

Desperate, the Fuuma Ninja wrapped the war fork with one of his rope darts to stop it from vibrating then attempted to decapitate Zan from behind with a whirling dervish of an attack.

The Sanada Demon avoided that too by eyesight instead of by echolocation, ducking in time and countering with his war fork. He was too good and too strong to fall for that as well.

It was all over.

Hidaka wasn't able to land one slash. And now Lucas faced off against his half-brother while injured himself.

The goggled ninja's spent body crumpled to the ground, exhausted beyond belief and bleeding from several more stab wounds.

"Well? What are you waiting for, Sanada Demon? Finish me off."

***

Back at a narrow alleyway in the Yokohama Chinatown near the Minakata moneychanger offices…

'I thought he was a fellow thief, but he's nothing more than a pickpocket,' thought Fabian, who carved Yahiko up like a wooden toy knickknack. 'A petty thief against a criminal mastermind.'

On his part, the samurai kid couldn't penetrate the dual defense of La Cerca's double blades.

The rapier probed at Myojin's range at a comfortable distance and when he forced his way to more closed-quarter combat, the dagger served as both The Faceless' shield and auxiliary blade.

Just like before.

However, unbeknownst to the master fencer, the kendo master had actually pushed the battle towards the area where he'd lost the iron sheathe.

He then secretly picked up his scabbard with his sleight of hand like the pickpocket that he was when he worked with the yakuza.

He then used the same scabbard to block the dagger as he did a circular parry of the rapier and finally landed a rib-cracking body shot at The Faceless.

Coughing blood, even the doubled-over Fabian had to admit, "Magnifico, hijo. (Magnificent, kid.) How much farther can you push me, I wonder? Don't disappoint me now."

Yahiko cringed. "Why won't you go down, Old Man?"

The veteran duelist then moved in for the kill, baiting counter after counter that wore on the dual-wielding samurai's defense.

The Tokyo Samurai Descendant avoided the bait, but this forced him to second-guess his offensive, leaving him to mostly focus on parrying and moving to the preferred cadence of The Faceless.

"Hit him, dammit! He's right in front of you! What am I paying you for?!" demanded the disheveled Tatsuya.

'You do it,' thought the samurai kid, who feinted a strike to draw out Fabian's counter, only to get his counter to the counter blocked by that damnable dagger, leaving him wide open to a barely dodged riposte.

"Almost," said the masked man, his tone dripping with an implied smirk from behind the mask. Like a cat playing with his prey.

Wait. This feeling of frustration felt quite familiar.

Where had Yahiko felt this before? This was the first time he'd ever faced off against the foreign sword style of fencing, so why did this duel feel like he'd been through it before?

He felt a feeling of déjà vu.

From the corner of his eyes, Myojin then saw the mercenaries he beat up regain consciousness and start picking up the parts of their lion costume again. 'Oh, shi…!'

"Stand back! Stand back or I'll shoot!" screamed Tatsuya, scrambling for his pistol, but then he realized he'd lost his gun from the scuffle earlier.

The two realized that one of the mercenaries had stolen the Minakata uncle's firearm and aimed it at them, which backed them into a corner.

Things went from bad to worse.

***

Lucas Grant wiped the blood on his leaking forehead to his hair, dyeing it red. He then licked his hand. "That Sanada Demon of yours was a pretty impressive fighter. I'm not going to lie."

Kinta Minakata remained silent, his body coiled and ready to strike with a iaijutsu slash.

"You're not very chatty today, are you, Big Brother?" said Luke with a nonchalant shrug while tapping his bloody bastard sword from behind his head.

The Mimawarigumi Battousai and the Prodigal Son then picked up where they left off.

The surgeon versus the butcher.

The surgeon remained pristine and precise with his cuts. The butcher kept hacking and slashing right into the bone of the meat.

"You know, I went undercover as your bodyguard to do some research of my own on the Seiryu Clan. The Minakatas. The family that rejected me and my mother," said Lucas with the same inelegant strikes that wore down the snake man ninja Ren.

The Kagemusha, for his part, dodged Luke's fencing strikes and European swordplay, remembering the training he got from his grandfather, the sage and worldly Toshiro Minakata, on how to handle swordsmanship from across the globe.

This allowed him to defend against unconventional tactics he didn't witness from his time in the Mimawarigumi, like using the pommel of a bastard sword to bash the head in.

As brusque, simple, messy, and savage as Grant's swordsmanship looked, it was also pragmatic and effective. Like bashing any living thing with the sharpest blunt object you could find into minced meat.

"Every one of your family is full of bastard. Even bigger rat bastards than I am, the literal bastard," continued Lucas, happily chopping away at the surgical Kinta's defense, his sword slashes coming closer. And closer.

Like in the middle of a stampede of carriages or even chariots, Minakata kept avoiding those strikes, each one swung with great strength and killing intent. Each one enough to finish him off.

Disturbingly, every accurate cut Kinta landed on Luke, the foreigner didn't even register. He didn't even bat an eye. They might as well have been paper cuts. Or cat scratches.

It was as if they were too shallow for him. Flesh wounds weren't enough to take him down, as proven by Zan earlier. His brother dared him to commit to every strike and cut right through his bone.

Easier said than done. It felt like one wrong move from him would result in certain death.

Kinta didn't break a sweat earlier, but now he was really sweating on a December.

Also, it was naïve of him to refuse Zan's proposal to fight his bastard brother together, thinking it was dishonorable to fight an injured man.

This creature before him did not act like an injured man. He was more like a wounded animal whose fight or flight instincts had been activated.

But that wasn't quite right either. He acted to lackadaisical for someone so bloody. It was as if he became stronger and more relaxed the more injured he got...?

What an utterly ridiculous man he'd grown up to become.

***

Back at a narrow alleyway in the Yokohama Chinatown near the Minakata moneychanger offices…

Something in the periphery smashed the hand holding Tatsuya's pistol. A tetsubo (metal bat), to be exact.

"…Gan!" gasped Yahiko while Tatsuya used him as a shield against the lion dance mascot. "You came! I didn't think you'd come here!"

Sure enough, the Great Gan started swinging his weapon against the overgrown puppet before him. "You owe us part of that reward money, Yoshi-boy!"

"Don't call me that," said Myojin with a smirk, almost unthinkingly. He didn't really care what Gan called him at that point.

The thuggish ruffian walloped the multi-legged lion mascot before him, with him swinging for the fences with bone-shattering swipes.

Damn. Yahiko heard several sickening crunches from Gan's blunt force approach.

He then had to do a split-second cross-armed Hadome parry on short notice as Fabian suddenly lunged his rapier's tip at his face, intending to turn him and Kinta's uncle into shish-kebab.

However, before he could transition into the disarming Hawatari, the boy realized his fatal mistake, unable to backpedal in time to avoid the dagger to his heart, with both his arms leaving his chest wide open.

To both the shock of La Cerca and Yahiko, a dual-bladed block kept the dagger from puncturing the spiky-haired boy's chest just in time.

It was Munenori Minoe's Cancer Stance: Scissor Grip technique.

"…Minoe!" said Yahiko with a smile and a half-laugh. His allies had come to his rescue in the nick of time.

"Mochiron (But of course)," said Minoe before squeezing his two swords hard enough to bend and break The Faceless's dagger.

***

Hidaka winced at the forked stab that never came.

What was the Sanada Demon waiting for? The Chinese New Year? Tanabata (The Star Festival)? He should finish him off and get it over with.

"Hey, Demon. Quit playing games," said Kai, only for him to realize something important.

The mask wearing youkai (ghoul) ninja that reminded him of The Faceless the most had stopped moving.

Like Musashibo Benkei who died standing while shot full of arrows or Julius Caesar and his body stabbed by multiple senatorial daggers.

However, unlike them, he had no arrows or knives stuck on his body. Did he have a random heart attack and died then and there, smote by the gods?

What the hell just happened?

The ninja exhaled, releasing the breath he just realized he'd been holding all this time. He took stock of his surroundings, awakening to self-awareness with several eye blinks.

He felt like he'd just escaped death with the skin of his teeth. Or like he got sideswiped by a runaway carriage, saving himself from becoming roadkill.

He sat there, dripping in blood, his eyes searching for any wound or slash he landed unto Zan.

At first glance, it looked like Zan was the victor and Hidaka awaited death.

Kai's brain scrambled for a reason behind his sudden victory. Was it when he wrapped the war fork and muffled its reverberating sound waves, allowing him to land a hit?

However, his blades—as sharp as they were—didn't draw blood or felt like they even hit the red devil ninja at all. No impact or resistant.

Hidaka then noticed the drip of blood not his own.

Little drops of blood formed on the slumped form of Zan.

Wait a goddamn second.

Kai thought the pincushion look of the bloody Lucas meant that he'd been pushed to the limit by the devilish ninja.

What if Zan's red costume hid that he'd been wounded all along?

What if the blood on Lucas wasn't (only) his own, but someone else's blood?

Or, if that wasn't enough outward bleeding to incapacitate him, what if Zan had been internally bleeding all this time?

That last burst of effort to avoid Kai's blades must've been the straw that broke the camel's back.

Kai chuckled, which then turned into a full-blown cackle.

That damn Lucas had him worried for nothing.

***

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Chinatown…

With ragged breaths, a tired and sweaty May "Satsuki" Brooks pushed the blunt edge of her naginata down while she herself leaned on it like a cane.

She had actually went ahead and tailed the Minakata party even before the surviving bodyguards sounded the alarm of another assassination attempt, only for her to get intercepted by a Chinese assassins hiding behind a Chinese parade.

Like with Yahiko, random strangers pretending to be merrymakers attacked her, which she took out in short order thanks to her naginatajutsu.

She'd been training along with Yahiko to hone her sixth sense in battle, after all.

Only for her to get blindsided when the lion dance mascot also ambushed her for good measure.

And now there they were, with her taking on a surprisingly lion-like mascot puppet with the fierceness of its choreographed group attacks with military efficiency.

"Arigathanks for the workout," the tired blonde bluffed, not realizing she was code-switching between two languages and mixing up words together in her exhaustion. "Sorrymasen for the mess though. But I've got to go."

She brushed her matted hair, revealing a black eye. Her face and body had various bruises from the beating she got from the lion-head disguise of the Brigands' hired hitmen.

She'd actually been fighting against another lion mascot all this time, this time of the northern lion design with its painted on face and much sharper teeth.

It used less puppetry like moveable jaws and eyelids, but like the other southern lion mascot, it was controlled by Shaolin-trained kung fu masters hired by the Brigands Guild for their assassination mission.

With a sneer, Satsuki whirled her bladed polearm above her head and told the approaching lion dance mascot. "This is your final warning! Yamete kudastop…!"

The lion's sharp half-open jaw clamped upon the blade of the naginata while its worm-like body wrapped itself around May's body with wriggling hands and shuffling feet.

'Just you wait, Joshua-kun (Yahiko-kun)! Kyoko-chan! Satsuki-oneesan is here to save you!' she thought through grit teeth as she struggled against the mascot monster.

***

To Be Continued...

Beware of those Chinese parades, man. They're a riot.

As for the Sanada Demons, Baku is based on Batman from D.C. with supersonic shrieking powers like Banshee from Marvel. Ren wears snake armor reminiscent of Serpentor from G.I. Joe but has resonant destruction powers like Avalanche from Marvel.

Finally, Zan uses sonar-like echolocation (through his tuning war fork) like Daredevil from Marvel, but his accurate projectile hurling is more reminiscent of Daredevil's arch-nemesis Bullseye.

Danke, Abdiel

#rurouni kenshin #rurouni yahiko #yahiko myojin #sanada demons #zan #baku #ren #the faceless #lucas grant #fuuma ninja clan #sanada ninja clan

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spookiekewchie · 3 years ago

Text

Prove a Point

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x black!reader

Summary: What happens when Ransom's words aren't taken seriously? He makes sure to prove his point to you, and the poor idiot that you had the nerve to go on a date with.

Read THE INTERN

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: Ransom is bit dark and possessive in this one, kidnapping, potentially dubcon, forced cuckolding, oral (m receiving), drooling, fingering (blink and you miss it), Ransom's filthy mouth, unprotected sex (p in v), use of a knife, threats (not against reader), nicknames (sweetheart, ransom get's called daddy once), sir kink

A/N: It's DAY FIVE OF KINKTOBER and I really wanted to revisit these two, the idea I had in mind really lent itself to some cuckolding sooooo here we are. This could be considered dark so pay attention to the warnings, and know that you are responsible for your own media consumption. Anyways, all mistakes are mine so pardon any errors or typos I'm sure I missed a few. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

You’d done what you promised yourself, you’d gone on your date that Ransom had made you miss. You’d had to take a sick day just to avoid the man, but in your mind it was worth it to not only inconvenience him but also do the exact opposite of what you knew he wanted from you. The only problem was that your date wasn’t going as great as you thought it should have been. For one Bryce looked a little too similar to Ransom for you to truly appreciate his good looks, and then there was the background. A rich grandfather, and a ridiculous inheritance that he was set to get when the old man died. God you could have rolled your eyes at how you just had to end up with the one man that not only resembled Ransom but also came from money and had a silver spoon shoved up his ass.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more insufferable a shadow fell over your table. You looked up, and there stood Linda Drysdale with a smirk on her face and looking like the cat that caught the canary. “Oh dear, I stopped by the office today and Ransom told me you’d called out sick. Maybe he was mistaken, because you certainly don’t look sick.” She looked over to Bryce then, a look of recognition on her features and a somewhat sour expression flitting over them. “Bryce.” It was a clipped greeting, and he didn’t seem too pleased to see her either. Whatever beef there was between them though you were determined to stay out of it, so when Linda finally turned on her heel to leave you didn’t question it. You did mentally kick yourself when you saw her fishing her phone out of her purse on her way out the door though.

She was probably going to call Ransom and tattle on you in hopes that he’d fire you. The woman never did like you, something about how much Harlan liked you, and enjoyed your company had her feeling threatened. The woman acted like you were trying to steal her father, you rolled your eyes at the thought and forced yourself to at least try to enjoy the rest of your date with Bryce.

Bryce who looked like a slightly younger, slimmer, and less experienced version of Ransom.

It was going to be a long night, and suddenly you were ready for it to be over.

Two hours later you were standing awkwardly at your car, attempting to bid Bryce a good night when you caught sight of a panel van pulling up, the door sliding open, and two men in all black rushing the pair of you. You didn’t have time to react before someone was hitting Bryce over the head to knock him out before grabbing you up so that they could throw both of you into the back of the van. You put up a fight until they wrangle you and tie your wrists and ankles, then came the blindfold and you had no choice but to sit still and hope that you’d be okay. Selfishly you didn’t care much what happened to Bryce, for all you knew he was the target and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It felt like an hour went by before the van came to stop, and you could hear Bryce groaning softly as he began to stir. You were carried inside of a building, walked up some steps, and sat on something soft, it almost felt like a bed and that gave you another reason to worry, you could hear Bryce nearby and had to assume that he was left in the room with you. Time ticked by slowly, and you tried to keep up with the minutes but fear was gripping you too tightly to focus. “What the fuck is going on?” You questioned to no one in particular.

“I don’t fucking know.” That was Bryce speaking and your head turned in the direction his voice was strongest in. “Hey are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” He questioned, and it sounded like he was struggling with something.

“Of course they didn’t fucking hurt her, you were the only one they were allowed to rough up.” It sounded like someone new had entered the room. Bryce cursed under his breath, suddenly spitting insults as if he knew who was holding the two of you captive. It took you a second, but you realized that you knew this man’s voice and you scoffed, suddenly very confused and very annoyed.

“Ransom?” It couldn’t be, why the hell would he have you and Bryce snatched off the street like that, and why would he...oh wait. “Ransom you untie me right now!” You demanded, and you could hear the huff of his laughter and the shuffle of his steps as he neared you. Something cold and metal slid between your bound wrists and the sound of rope being cut filled your ears before you were able to move your hands. The first thing you did was rip the blindfold away, and then next was to untie your ankles in a rush. “What the fuck is going-” You shut up when he whirled around, a knife in hand and a glare on his pretty face.

“I thought I made it clear that you were mine, and that you weren’t going on any dates with this idiot.”

Your mouth went dry, was he serious? You’d honestly thought he was just talking shit that night in his office, but clearly you had misjudged just how serious Ransom had been. “Excuse me?” You snapped, flinching back when you heard the bitter laughter that rushed out of Ransom. “Ransom you can’t be serious, this is ridiculous. Just...just let us go, and we can all pretend that you didn’t have us kidnapped just so you could go on an ego trip and prove a point.” Even in the face of danger you couldn’t resist snapping at Ransom, and for the briefest of moments you saw amusement flashing in those brilliant blue eyes of his before they darkened.

“You really want to test me right now? I told you that you were mine, and I fucking meant it. You think I won’t slit this prick’s throat right here to show you how serious I am?” Ransom moved to stand close enough to Bryce’s bound form that all it would take was a slash of his wrist and Bryce would be no more. Eyes wide you jumped up from the bed, taking a tentative step towards an angry Ransom who was focused entirely on Bryce who looked a mixture of fearful and pissed off.

“Ransom…” Nothing. “Ransom, please.” Still nothing. You huffed, worry coursing through you that if you didn’t shift the brunets focus soon you’d have to be witness to a murder. Something you really didn’t feel like dealing with. Swallowing your pride you tried again, this time with a different name. “Hugh.”

That got his attention, Ransom’s head whipping towards you with a curious interest shining in his eyes. “You’re right, I shouldn’t be testing you right now.” He narrowed his eyes as you spoke, letting you step in close enough that he could smell the scent of your perfume clinging to your skin. “And I shouldn’t have gone on that date with him.” You conceded, watching as Ransom took a step away from Bryce and put himself more in your space.

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“It was a waste of time, I realized that fifteen minutes in. All night long I was just sitting there comparing him to you, and thinking how I should have left the second I laid eyes on him. I was never going to fuck him, I already knew he’d just disappoint me.” You admitted, ignoring your own frustration at the fact that it was true and not something you had ever intended on telling Ransom. But it seemed to work, because Bryce was getting offended and the more upset Bryce got at your words the more Ransom preened knowing that in your eyes the younger trust fund prick just couldn’t compare.

“Put the knife down, and I’ll show you just how sorry I am for not listening to you.” Your fingers dropped to his hips, fingers slowly working to undo his pants while you leaned in to whisper against his lips. “And then you can show him why he can’t ever compare with you.” Predictably, Ransom let the knife fall to the ground so that he could grab you by the hips and yank you into his body. His lips claimed yours in a messy, possessive kiss that has Bryce angrily cursing at the two of you as he tried to free himself from the chair that Ransom had him bound to. It only got worse when your hand slipped down the front of Ransom’s undone pants to stroke him until he was hardening in your grip.

Ransom broke the kiss, chest heaving just slightly and his pupils blown wide with lust as he looked down at you with a wicked smirk curling onto his plush lips. “On your knees, sweetheart.” He ordered, tone soft and almost sweet in contrast to just how tightly and possessively he was holding onto you. You made to move but a strong hand caught your chin and forced your gaze back onto Ransom’s. “What do you say?”

It took you more strength than you knew you had to swallow your pride down even more and fix your mouth to say the words that you knew Ransom wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.” You bit out, dropping to your knees once he let go of your chin.

“Pay attention Bryce. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Ransom taunted, hissing out a breath a moment later when he felt your tongue dragging along the underside of his length. The brunet towering over you let his gaze drink you in as he finally got to experience what wonder’s your mouth could do other than cursing him out, and telling him every little thing he did to irritate you. Ransom found that he much preferred your mouth full of his cock, the feeling of you sucking shallowly at his tip already making him want to rock his hips forward to make you take more of him. He held off for now, letting you use a hand to stroke his cock while you reared back just enough to spit on it. The mixture of your saliva and his precum was spread over him by your hand while you took him back into your mouth, big brown eyes peering up to meet Ransom’s pretty blues when you moaned around him. For the moment Bryce was an afterthought, but you remained vaguely aware of his presence because of the angered struggling and the spitting of insults.

You weren’t sure what was angering the trust fund baby more, your words, Ransom’s taunting, or the fact the pair of you were ignoring him while making him watch the lewd scene. Honestly he should be thanking you, obviously Ransom had been ready to slit his throat just to remove him from the equation all together. It was your quick thinking that spared him. Internally you rolled your eyes, men were always so ungrateful. Either way, if Bryce were going to sit there and spit venom at you, then you’d just have to let him get a good look at what he’d never get to experience for himself.

You took more Ransom into your mouth, Your hand slipping from his shaft to cup his sack so that your fingers could tease and massage him. The strained curse that came out of his mouth would have made you smirk if yours were so full. Letting it serve as motivation you let your head bob further down, tongue flattening against the underside of his cock to make more room for him in your mouth.

“Damn, sweetheart. You’re doing so good that poor Bryce over there’s getting hard.” Ransom’s eyes left yours to land on Bryce, the smirk on the older brunet’s lips was nothing short of cruel as Bryce demanded to be untied. Ransom let him stay right where he was, reaching down to tangle his fingers in your dark curls. He bucked his hips against your mouth, making you gag in protest when you felt him threatening to breach your throat. You attempted to pull back, but Ransom’s grip on your hair loosened so he could instead press a large hand against the back of your head. He fucked into your mouth then, making you gag and drool around his length as he used your mouth as he pleased. You wanted to hate it, the whole situation was fucked and you knew that, but you could feel the way your pussy ached to be filled by him again. The fact that you could feel Bryce’s heated glare on you the whole while only made your clit throb, and you desperately wanted to slip your fingers under your dress to do something about it. Your fingers drifted between your legs, but the moment Ransom saw that he dragged you off of his cock with a hard pull on your curls. “No you don’t, you don’t touch my sweet little cunt unless I say so.”

You wanted to protest, but before your mouth could fire off some scathing comment he had it full again. Growling around him only served to give him more pleasure, and you just found yourself more frustrated. Your hands moved to grip against the fabric of his pants, your knees dug into the soft carpet as you squirmed and tried to alleviate some of the needy ache that you felt, it didn’t help and it left you groaning in frustration around the man’s cock. An ache started to form in your jaw, and you whined, reaching up with a hand massage his sack again, this time with every intention of wanting to make him cum so you could give your jaw a rest.

Ransom didn’t let you end things so quickly though, pulling you back again so he could take a moment to admire the mess of smeared lip gloss and drool dripping from your mouth and onto the swell of your breasts. “Fuck, look at you. You’re a mess, sweetheart.” Something about the way he said it was sweet and you surprised yourself with the burst of laughter that erupted out of you when you shifted your hand from his balls to grip around his cock and stroke him. You were on autopilot now, your own lust winning out over your ego and pride. You needed that ache to be filled, and if you had to play Ransom’s game to get that then you would. Never mind the pissed off trust fund playboy currently hissing at you about how much of a slut you were.

“I want you to cum in my mouth, please.” You didn’t bother hiding the needy tone of your voice, smirking at the calming breath Ransom had to take at hearing you. Leaning forward you gave his tip a few kitten licks before wrapping your lips around him again, and then, ever so gently you let your teeth graze over him. Ransom clearly hadn’t been anticipating such a dirty little trick from you, and the sensation sent him over the edge with a drawn out moan as his spend filled your mouth while you sucked him for every drop of it.

“Shit...open your mouth, lemme see.” He ordered through panting breaths, gripping you by the jaw. You opened your mouth, letting him see his spend coating your tongue, and made no protests when he turned your head to give Bryce a nice look as well. “Swallow, sweetheart.” And you do, licking your lips a moment later with a shrug at Bryce’s look of disbelief. His anger had worn off, and now he was just stewing and trying to figure out why he hadn’t gotten this side of you. “Aww, look at him. He doesn’t know if he’s horny or angry.” Ransom was taunting him again, and Bryce’s glare was back in full force, but the obvious bulge straining against the front of his pants confirmed that Ransom was right. “Imagine how pissed he’s gonna be having to sit there and watch me fuck you.”

One second you were on your knees and the next, Ransom had hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed with little effort. He stripped you out of your clothes, tossing them this way and that before all but ripping your bra and panties in two so that he could get his hands on your bare body. Two thick digits pushed into you without warning, pumping into you and making you writhe against the expensive sheets of Ransom’s bed. You already knew that he could take you apart, but this time he could take his time and he made sure to drag out the moment and not let you cum right away. It was torture for you, but it was also torture for Bryce to watch because the longer Ransom dragged this out the longer Bryce was stuck there impossibly hard and unable to free himself.

It was exactly what Ransom wanted, and when he made you cum around on his fingers he just couldn’t help but leave the bed to stalk over to Bryce so he could smear your essence over the other male’s lips with a cruel smirk. “Enjoy it you pathetic cuck, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to my girl’s pussy.”

You probably shouldn’t have found the sight of Bryce’s tongue darting out to try and sneakily lick the taste of you from his lips, but between that and the sight of Ransom undressing at the end of the bed you were too worked up to care. Biting down on your bottom lip you took the time to openly let your gaze rake over Ransom’s naked form. Those damn sweaters really did him no justice, you thought to yourself. “Damn...I really need you inside me.” You breathed out, eyes glancing over to a silent and fuming Bryce. “C'mon, show him how well I take you.” You’d like to say you were still just playing Ransom’s game, but there was some twisted sense of pleasure in making Bryce sit there and watch what he couldn’t have.

Perhaps you and Ransom were better suited than you wanted to admit.

Ransom grinned at your words, grabbing you by the ankle to yank you closer to him so that he could crawl over you and slot himself between your spread thighs. A glance to your left let you know that Bryce would be able to see your face clearly, and you could only assume that was exactly what Ransom wanted. You were willing to bet money that, that was the reason why Ransom took his time pushing into you and drew out the moment. That first feeling of his cock stretching you around him had your back arching off the bed, and your mouth falling open with a drawn out moan as you tried to angle your hips to make him sink deeper into you. “Feels good doesn’t it,” you could only nod. “See Bryce, you never stood a fucking chance.” Ransom chuckled, hips snapping into you to draw a breathless cry out of you before he set a rhythm that easily turned you into a mess of moans and begging for more.

It didn’t take him long at all to have you feeling that coil tightening in the pit of your belly again. You nails dragged down his muscled arms, your half lidded gaze meeting his own lust blown stare. You knew he could tell you were close, the way you squeezed and fluttered around him told him everything and you thought for a moment he’d make you beg for it. Instead he slipped a hand between your sweaty slicked bodies to slide his fingers against your clit. That first touch had you seeing stars, hips bucking under him though you weren’t sure if it was an effort to get away or to get more. “God…’m so close, please Ransom.” His fingers sped up, the quick circles he drew over your throbbing bud working quickly to make that coil in your belly twist until it finally snapped and you felt the intense wave of pleasure overtaking you.

Ransom’s hips stuttered at the feeling of you clamping down around him, forcing him to rut into you harder as he dragged out the moment of your release until you weren’t sure if it was the same climax or if it had blended into the next. He smirked, watching you pant and writhe for him before he finally let his fingers fall away so he could fall forward until he was hovering close enough to press his damp forehead against yours. “Tell him who you belong to, sweetheart.” He muttered. You knew you’d told him earlier that you’d had no intention of fucking Bryce, but it was like Ransom still had a primal need to show the other man why. You could hardly complain when Ransom was fucking you that good, and giving your body exactly what it craved.

You whined, head turning to the side to let your teeth bite down against Ransom’s flexed bicep hard enough to make him snap his hips into your harder. “Fuck...you do, you daddy.” You were too cockdrunk to even realize what you’d just called him, but Ransom and Bryce both heard it.

“You hear that you fuckin’ cuck, she’s all mine.” Ransom had said, aiming a vicious smirk at Bryce as he began to rail into you hard. “Daddy huh?” He returned his attention to you, only to find you too fucked out to even really hear him. “Think I like the sound of that.” He grunted, spearing into you harder as his pace grew more frantic the closer he came to his own release.

Everything was a dull roar in your ears, body simply riding out the pleasure and bliss until Ransom reached his end and filled you with his spend. He stayed like that for a moment after, resting a fraction of his weight on top of you while his cock softened inside of you until slowly he pulled out of you. He chuckled at your whine of discontent at his cock leaving you, but then he moved you again, turning you so that Bryce could see Ransom’s cum dripping out of your used pussy. “Take a nice long look Bryce, last time you’re gonna get to see my girl’s perfect little pussy.”

You were too tired to tell Ransom to quit it, and everything after that was a blur. You vaguely remember seeing Bryce being untied and shoved out of the room by Ransom, then there was something damp and warm between your thighs wiping at your folds. You thought it was Ransom cleaning you up, but you were too tired to investigate. Soon enough you drifted off to sleep, leaving Ransom to finish doing whatever it was he was doing before he finally settled into the bed beside you.

The sound of birds chirping annoyingly outside woke you in the morning, and for a brief moment you panicked when you didn’t recognize your surroundings. Then the events of the prior night began to flood in and you could only groan and drag yourself from the bed. Searching for your purse you grabbed it up off the floor and padded into the bathroom to pull out the travel toothbrush you had packed just in case. You were midway through brushing your teeth when you noticed that your makeup had been removed, and your brow furrowed in confusion. Why the hell would Ransom bother with removing your makeup for you? You shrugged it off, telling yourself that he simply didn’t want to get makeup on his overpriced sheets. After that you grabbed a quick shower, and after you’d dried off you went rifling through the man’s closet for a sweater to throw on.

You plan had been to find the kitchen, but something glinting on the carpeted floor caught your attention. You bent down to pick it up, realizing it was the knife that Ransom had threatened Bryce with the night before. A frown fixed itself on your face when you let it settle in your hand. It wasn’t as heavy as you thought it would be, and something about it just felt off. Curious, you touched your finger to the tip a couple of times to confirm that you weren’t losing your mind. Once you were convinced you stood and made it a mission to find Ransom. If the smell of coffee and sounds coming from downstairs were anything to go by, that's where he’d be. Quietly you crept down the stairs, following the scent of coffee until you were standing at the edge of the kitchen and staring at Ransom’s bareback while he stood there pouring the dark bitter liquid into a mug. Clearing your throat you did your best to ignore the fact that he was shirtless with only a pair of low slung sweats covering him.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake the fuck up.” He greeted, making you roll your eyes as you silently moved closer to him with the knife still in hand and hidden in the too long sleeve of his sweater. You said nothing back, still frowning at him and to his credit he had the good sense to look confused for a moment. Your hand lifted, pulling the sleeve up to reveal the knife from last night, and without warning you jabbed it into Ransom’s side repeatedly. He jumped, yelping in surprise before catching your wrist and ripping the weapon away to toss onto the counter. “That tickled, don’t do that.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ransom! A fake knife?!” He didn’t look impressed with your yelling at him, in fact he just looked smug. “Was Bryce in any actual danger last night?” You hissed, jabbing him in the side with your finger until he batted your hand away and gave you a shrug.

“No, but you gotta admit it was funny watching him so angry and helpless.” Ransom answered, laughing when you threw your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“God! I can’t believe you! I did all that last night thinking I was keeping you from stabbing him and the whole time it was a fake knife. You’re an ass, Ransom. I fucking hate you.” You didn’t hate him, unfortunately. But you were pissed and he wasn’t making it any better by standing there looking completely unbothered and absolutely confident that what you were saying was bullshit.

“Funny, just last night you were saying you were mine, and calling me daddy.” He pointed out, and your eyes went wide before you quickly grabbed up the fake knife again and jabbed him with it. You let it clatter against the counter top again.

“Well I didn’t mean it, it was said under duress because you’re a fucking psychopath.” You spat, and almost immediately you could feel the shift in energy in the kitchen. Ransom’s bright blue eyes had darkened, and his body had gone tense as he crowded you back against the counter to cage you in with strong arms.

“Careful, sweetheart." His hand gripped you hard by the jaw and his gaze locked on yours. "Unless you want daddy to spend the rest of the morning taking you apart and reminding you that you are very much mine.”

#ransom drysdale x woc!reader #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x woc #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #woc!reader #black!reader #kinktober 2021 #trilla writes

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caffeinatedingenuity · 2 years ago

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Well, Instead of focusing entirely on grinding out fates in Zadnor I decided to do a little character development exercise by looking into a bit of Mizrelas’s own personal views, those of some of his fellow countrymen, and those towards Eorezea. If any one would like to me to draw up some of his views towards other notable characters, Feel free to ask. ( Keep in mind his own experiences are from the POV of one aligned with the empire, So he may not necessarily know of, nor had interactions with those the WoL would of through the MSQ. ) Pardon any grammatical errors and/or typos. As this is a longer post, Read more below. (Edited to fix some wording errors. )

Views towards Solus zos Galvus;

Mizrelas is rather well noted for his admiration for the young legatus who would ultimately found the Garlean empire, So much so that such played a strong hand in his decision to align himself with the then Republic and what it would evolve into in the years to come.

In his eyes, Mizrelas saw Solus as a highly intelligent and charismatic leader whom saw the true potential and innovation machina could bring to the world, a boon to the world that promised far more stability then the chaotic nature of the arcane which had wrought so much discord throughout the eras of history.

Following the demise of the Great emperor Solus zos Galvus, Mizrelas would continue to pursue the image of the empire he believed Solus represented as his prime and would dedicate much of his life to furthering the innovations of the empire's Machina in his own myriad of ways.

Though not entirely enamored with the concept of conquest he did believe that Solus’s goal of uniting the world under a single banner far outweigh the cost of such endeavors as history indicated that during the reign of the Allagan empire, the world saw stability and peace for quite some time. While it remains vague as to if Mizrelas ever became aware of Solus’s alter ego and their ultimate motives remains unclear, but if such were the case, it was likely that Mizrelas would have continued to propagate the ideals Solus zos Galvus represented during his time as the young legatus whom would later found the Garlean empire rather then what his alter ego’s ultimate endeavor truly was.

Views towards Varis zos Galvus;

Mizrelas was known to retain a modicum of respect towards Solus zos Galvus’s successor, Varis zos Galvus, though was noted to not of supported the succession of the Legatus of the Ist Legion over Solus’s youngest son at the time. While his personal reasoning for not being fond of Varis as emperor remain mired in a convolution of personal views, chief among them was his belief that Varis did not entirely share the ideals Solus represented, or at least, the Solus he had be swayed by during the final days of the Republic and the ensuing rise of the empire.

Mizrelas can be noted for his belief that Varis’s focus delved far too much in the continuation of imperial expansion over solidification of what it had thus far obtained, going against the ideals of unification and innovation Solus had represented ( in his own mind ) so long ago in favor of mere conquest.

Views towards Zenos Galvus:

If only having a modicum of respect for Varis, one can quickly gather that Mizrelas had no fondness for the legatus of the XIIth Legion and though acknowledging Zenos as a competent soldier, felt the legatus of the XIIth legion lacked the inclinations of being a leader.

With the belief that Zenos was little more than a bleak reflection of their own fathers war mongering tendencies, Mizrelas was strong opposed to the notion of Zeno’s succession to Varis as Emperor following the demise of Varis, under the firm belief that one whom lacked the indications of leadership and thirsted only for war would bring only ruination to what so many had endeavored to build. Views towards Gaius van Baelsar: Mizrelas is known, like many, to of had a great amount of respect for the late Solus zos Galvus’s favored Legatus, the Black Wolf of the XIVth Legion, Gaius van Baelsar, and their myriad of accomplishments. Though only having personally experienced a few handfuls of encounters with the man, Mizrelas was known to of afforded a similar level of fondness for van Baelsar as he did for Solus, though not such a fervent extent.

With the supposed death of Gaius van Baelsar, and much of the XIVth, following the fall of the Praetorium Mizrelas was noted to have dedicated a small handful of machina designs in memory of the empires favored Legatus, as well as a selection of other tributes to the empires fallen hero.

Following the news of the Black Wolf’s supposed ‘miraculous revival’ and assassination of the now late Emperor Varis zos Galvus, Mizrelas was hesitant to believe the empires once favored Legatus would resort to such actions, as having experienced the discourse following the demise of Solus first hand, knew that countless disparagement stories would arise during a time of succession in order to propagate a new emperor into fruition.

At current it is unclear how Mizrelas views the former Legatus whom has seemingly returned from the ashes of the Praetorium, but is indicated to at least still have a modicum of respect for Baelsar until such a time the former hero of the empire is proven unworthy of such.

Views towards the Eorezean Alliance:

As the late Emperor Varis zos Galvus once proclaimed “You speak of peace, but yet use war to achieve it. “

Mizrelas’s views towards the nations of Eorezea differ by each of its self proclaimed city states, yet ultimately amount to the same overall conclusion; A fleeting calm trapped in an nigh endless cycle of internal conflict perpetrated by those with only self interest as their ultimate goal. Those of Eorezea often boast of freedom and independence in the name of peace yet, like so many rebellious organizations focused upon only such ideals, lack the conviction and strength of strong leadership at their core. Those whom bare the mark of ‘freedom fighters’ more often than not lack the understanding of the complex intricacies of maintaining such over the long term.

Having studied the history of Eoreza and its city states, Mizrelas has found them wanting, representing little more than that of a coalition of like minded individuals whom act to only serve their own personal interests instead of that of a unified greater good. Though proclaiming themselves under the banner of freedom and equality one has but to look upon the histories of the eorzean city states to reveal that such ideals are little more than a farce worn upon their sleeves. Ultimately, the Eorezean city states, if not for possessing a common enemy in the form of the Empire itself, would fall into war with one another eventually, just as they themselves have propagated wars with the native inhabitants of the lands they laid claim to in the name of peace and independence. With the aforementioned in mind, Such individuals are not not to be trusted regardless of what they may offer in the name of ‘peace’ and ‘good will’

#ffxiv roleplay #Garlean roleplay

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momentomori24 · 7 months ago

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Does anyone think about how isolated Fubuki might feel being the only one to keep her memories after rewinding time? Considering the amount of trouble she gets herself into or gets dragged into, ranging from relatively harmless to downright dangerous, how many times did she have to turn back time to save herself or someone else? She can get hurt or find herself in deadly danger, and while her powers can erase that ever having truly happened, they can't erase her memories. Someone could be injured or die on her watch and then just walk and talk to her like nothing ever happened, but she'd still remember. And that's the worst part: she remembers what happened, actually experienced it herself, but it never really happened. Not as far as anyone else is concerned. While she lives with whatever trauma she endured, everyone else remains completely indifferent and the world continues on the same. How alone do you feel living like that?

And it's not even like this all could've just happened before she arrived in Kanai Ward. She literally deals with this a bunch of times in the game. Whenever Yuma screws up in Chapter 3, Yakou being stabbed by the hitman in Chapter 4, that guy that fell from the casino in her DLC-- she has go back to prevent tragedy over and over again, and she only manages to save two of three people mentioned in the end. She had to live through watching Yakou dying, bleeding out on that floor twice, unable to do anything about it twice. Not to mention god knows how many times Yuma almost got them run over or blown into bits when failing to disable the bombs or caught by peacekeepers. Not to mention the two times the casino guy died on her before she unintentionally saved his life (by having him crash land onto her taxi which is already scary enough).

All this would be fucked up on its own, but her really spotty memory isn't doing her any favours at all (hell, her Forte might even be part of the reason she's as scatter-brained as she is). It kinda makes me wonder how she differentiates between what truly happened and what happened before she rewinded time (so what technically didn't happened). If she even can, that is. I would've loved to see a throwaway scene where she randomly mentions something that that only she knows happened or perfectly predicts the very near future only for someone to be like "wtf are you talking about" and brushing it off as typical Fubuki weirdness as a little hint of her Forte before its actual reveal.

Fubuki is pretty strong to deal with all the shit that gets thrown at her and still choose to be as happy and compassionate and optimistic as she is, but I'm so glad she had Yuma to lean on and didn't have to shoulder that burden of knowledge and the physical strain alone, even if it was only for a while. She deserves to finally confide in someone and some mental relief after all the times she didn't have anyone, I think. Her ability may be the most OP one out of everyone, but it's a blessing as much as it is a curse.

#master detective archives: rain code #rain code #fubuki clockford #just thinking about her today #i just love fubuki and the angst potential with her is very tempting to explore #i have this short comic in my head where yuma ends up getting shot by a peacekeeper and she has to rewind time and live the trauma of it #but i do not have the artistic skill to pull that off unfortunately for me and fortunately for her #and like i said i love her and she's a sweetheart so i want to be nice to her. for now #anyway just food for thought. i wish the game or at least her dlc touched more on the horror aspect of her forte #or her struggles to navigate having as much power as she does and the consequences of it all #momento rambles #pardon any potential typos #i'm tired so i hope this makes sense

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alchemist-shizun · 5 years ago

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Thinking of you keeps me awake

Read on Ao3!

Word count: 1,407

Pairing: Logicality

Warnings: There's surgery mention and a mention of an incident in a playground, nothing specific or graphic.

Summary: Logan has been testing out the new advanced technology that had just been created for surgery. Patton, a doctor at the same hospital, finds the machine one night and starts talking to it daily. Logan finds it out in the weirdest way, and crushing ensues.

A/N: Hi name's Ellie and I find inspiration in TV advertisings. Okay this was supposed to be a drabble but I can't physically write less than a thousand words. (pardon me I can't put the read more on mobile.) This is also the first fic I post here so I'll just let you read in peace while I will disappear in fear. (Look I rhymed) Feel free to point out any typo or mistake, English isn't my first language and I'm always one for learning! Thank you so much and without any further ado, enjoy your reading.

✾

Logan finally found relief in the comfortable chair in front of his desk. It had been a little over a month since they started using advanced technology at work, which permitted Logan to attend meetings and to his job at the same time.

They didn't really take into account that being a surgeon wasn't exactly a piece of cake and doubling his work-related stress didn't help at all.

But Logan had never minded pushing himself to the limit in order to save lives or learn something new. (A bad habit that he had been dragging along ever since youth.)

The "machine of the future", as they liked to call it, was this robotic device that could be controlled wireless from a long distance. All Logan had to do was turn his phone on and a projector would show him what the robot was seeing and he could interact with the projection.

For instance, there had been cases in which he was required both at an updating course on new discoveries and also at the operating room to operate on one of his patients.

With this new object, he could help his team while traveling, as soon as he found a quiet place.

Quite the jewel, wasn't it?

That was the reason a hidden camera was implemented in the machine, it functioned both while in use and while seemingly asleep. If anything touched it, it would send a notification to the database Logan had access to on his laptop.

He was used to check on it daily, of course. Especially at 2 a.m., when he was definitely not supposed to be asleep. Now, he wasn't messing with his circadian system, just touching it up a little to see-

« A notification? »

His heart started pounding as panic drove its way through his chest; his mind, though, tried to find all the possible positive outcomes.

It could have been just an incident, right? Someone moved it or touched it by accident. There was nothing to be worried about, or else it would have automatically sent a call to the police.

Yes, it had a complicated security system, but it was needed, considering it was the only device existing at the time.

Logan scrolled through his database and found the videotapes section. He checked on the least recent video; they got deleted by the system monthly, so he was used to only check on them once a month unless an issue like that occurred.

He went through the frame previews and stopped when he saw a figure at the back of the room. The video started playing.

Logan could only watch as the figure became a more distinct man with wavy hair who paced around the room.

There was something familiar about him, but maybe it was just the glasses he was wearing that oddly reminded him of his own pair.

The mysterious man (actually, he was probably a doctor given his white coat) turned to the robot's direction and gasped at its sight before approaching it.

It was something, to see that scene almost as if it had been playing right in front of his eyes.

But Logan wasn't a robot.

« Oh my, what do we have here? » the man spoke in the most sugary voice Logan had ever heard. He wondered how soothing he was with distressed patients.

« This is so cool! » he paced around the object, then stopped back at its front.

« Is someone there? I'm Patton! »

Oh- That's what it was. He had worked with Patton, once or twice, but he had been on his team for a fairly short time. Wasn't he the new one around?

« Cat got your tongue? » his chuckle was so soft he could have made the maddest beast grow gentle. « Oops! You don't have one. »

Logan snorted and shook his head, was it really just this guy goofing around until the end of the tape?

He made to close the video and move onto the next ones, when Patton looked up again.

« Oh! Uhm ... whoever's behind this- because I really don't know, none bothered to answer me when I asked. » this time his snicker was embarrassed, he almost felt bad for him.

« I don't know why they think I'm dumb. I mean I got a doctorate, you can't exactly make your way through that by playing dumb, right? » Patton looked exactly where the robot's camera was hidden. Logan felt his heart skip a beat and he couldn't pinpoint whether it was out of fear or something else.

« But here I am, venting to a soulless machine. Maybe they're right. » he scratched his neck and sighed.

Logan remembered suddenly how Patton's first period of time with them was filled with simple tasks and chores. He had always thought they were just using him and not letting him unleash his potential.

Until one of the oldest doctors had to retire and some space had been made for him too.

« Anyway, to whoever is doing the awesome job behind this, I hope you know you're amazing! » Patton flashed him a toothy grin, then waved, gathered the stuff he needed and left.

Logan went through the other tapes as quickly as possible, but couldn't help but stop and listen to whatever Patton had to say in every single one of them.

The sight of his bright smile was a cathartic experience and, essentially, all Patton really did was clean some spots in the room and give both the robot and Logan a pep talk.

He didn't realize how wide he was smiling thanks to all the "I'm proud of you"s, "Your work is amazing", "Look at how marvelous you are" or "You inspire me", not until he reached the last tape and his cheeks were soaring from all the stretching.

Logan passed his hands on his face, his clock barely counting down to 3:30 a.m.

He tried to shake off the giddy feeling he felt when Patton appeared on his screen once again.

Sometimes you just need constant but simple reminders.

« Patton! Did a real good job! » he entered the room dancing and humming in his tracks. « Hey, didn't see you there! »

He approached the camera skipping along the pavement, that was the happiest he had ever seen him in those videos.

He couldn't believe that happened that day and he had missed the opportunity to see his joy at less than a couple of paces away.

« I saw the family of your patient today. » Patton sounded as if he were reminiscing about the moment.

Logan digged in his earliest memories and remembered the serious conditions of his patient: they had been victim of a terrible accident at a local playground. A mere little kid.

They had to work on the child for hours before it was safe to assume they would survive.

« I wish you could have seen the relatives. Their reaction when I delivered the news just ... Made me realize why I really love this job. » he hesitated, letting the words sink in.

« You did that. » Patton looked right into the camera but this time Logan's chest didn't feel tight.

Instead, it filled with warmth. Pleased and content.

« It's all thanks to you. » his voice trailed off as his cerulean eyes wandered around a spot Logan couldn't see.

« Oh gee, let's get you cleaned up! »

Next thing he knew, Patton had cleared some blood from the robot's surface. So that was why it sent off the notification.

Logan was glad it turned out to be nothing serious.

Just a cute and bubbly doctor that managed to start stealing his heart away without anything more than a night and video tapes. Not even his beloved surgery was needed.

Wait, what was that thought just now?

Logan closed his laptop as soon as Patton walked out of the frame.

He felt like he could have seen him if he moved, he didn't want to ruin the peaceful atmosphere Patton brought.

Afterwards, he finally dedicated himself to the thought of getting some rest for the hopefully less stressful day ahead.

Even though Logan spent the first few seconds of his sleeping time mentally smacking himself for staying up late, which he didn't actually regret, he now knew who to go to during his next coffee break.

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts patton #ts logan #logicality #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides logan #sanders sides patton #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #logicality fanfic #logicality fanfiction #logicality fic #tw surgery #tw accident #fanfiction #ts fic #purp's writings

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niche-pastiche · 5 years ago

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If you’re trying to learn German with Duolingo and it’s just... really not working for you. I HIGHLY recommend trying Memrise instead. I’ve only ever used either as additional resources so I don’t know what it would be like as a complete beginner in either one, but i think Memrise sets itself up in a way that is much better for avoiding problems later on. Also the sentences make actual sense, and the talking sounds more natural. It’s way better for listening comprehension too, and it lets you know when you almost got something right but still makes you fix it.

That said, the Duolingo Stories feature is great, and the two can be used to complement each other. But oh my gosh I’m sick and tired of Duolingo’s nonsense sentences because context clues are such an important part of learning a language! Pardon me if “the man has a beer” made more sense to me than “the man has a bear”!

It’s also worth noting that Memrise lets you remove certain words from your learning. For instance, I know that I know “die Schokolade” is german for “the chocolate” but I also know I have dyslexia and am literally never going to be able to spell that in either english or german without help. So instead of being punished for that, I just got rid of it. If I know i know the word and can say it correctly, and type it well enough that spell check can correct it, I’m not spending any more time on it.

Meanwhile, Duolingo alternates between punishing my dyslexia mercilessly, and missing actual errors in spelling caused by me not knowing something. Or letting horrible mistakes slide as typos, even when they are bad enough to form a completely different word that could totally change the meaning of a sentence.

Don’t get me wrong, Duolingo has potential, and I’m glad they have the stories in german now. I’m sure it’s great for some languages and some people, but for German and for me, I prefer to use Memrise.

#duolingo #memrise #learning german #also check out some musicals because they can be a fun way to work on listening comprehension

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chocobostrinket · 6 years ago

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Chirp Chpt 6: Darn Magpie

Link to AO3

Rating: General

Word Count: 2372

Chapter Summary: Ignis alerts Nyx and Libertus to the situation with Rhea, and Noctis overhears.

Notes: This was fun to write, but I clearly lost where I was going with it. lol The next chapter, thankfully, will be better with a better resolution. Shorter than normal I'm afraid, but I've been sitting on this for so long it's time to move on I think. (Watch out for typos and weird grammar. Sorry!) I miss doing prompts and things, and would love writing more in this verse. Also, where do you guys want this fic to go? I've been thinking of doing a time skip soon. Maybe after these next three chapters. :) Either way, thanks for reading! :D

It was too early for this, Nyx decided.

It was morning, right before he, Libertus, and Crowe were to report in for training. The sun had just barely risen, which meant he’d had time to grab something from the fridge before heading off. And as he stared into the fridge, everything stared back at him. Every single egg, carton of juice, food container, and vegetable had eyes on them. And with how tired he was, he froze upon seeing them at first. However, his mind was soon functioning enough to realize that their food hadn’t suddenly come to life. He reached in and grabbed one of the eggs, staring at it for a moment before shaking it, and watching the eyes on it jiggle as well.

Googly eyes. He just had to be sure.

A sigh left him, and he placed the egg back with the rest before shutting the door. Perhaps he’d have time to run to the café in the visitor’s area of the citadel before going off the training. He didn’t trust the food right now. Later, when he was more awake, he’d be able to make sure there weren’t any other surprises. But not now. He just wanted breakfast.

Nyx, then realizing that their ‘beloved’ prince Noctis was probably behind this, went over to the edge of the hall and yelled down to Libertus’s room.

“Magpie alert.”

He waited for a response but could only hear curses coming from behind Libertus’s door. And when it opened, he could see nothing wrong. Libertus was in uniform and nothing was out of place.

But then Libertus pointed to his mouth and said, “Too late.”

Or rather, that’s what Nyx thought he said. It came out a little slurred, almost like the words were undefined in his mouth. Nyx frowned as Libertus passed him by, dropping a small tube into his hand. It took a moment for Nyx to realize what it was, and when he did he shook his head. It was a small tube of mouth numbing gel, with tooth paste around the opening.

“Did he really manage to spike toothpaste?” Nyx muttered, and then wondered what they’d ever done to deserve Noctis’s pranks.

He could only imagine what the rest of the glaive…

Oh no.

“If he got us, do you think…”

Libertus grimaced and that was all the response Nyx needed. The captain was sure to be in a bad mood today. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was limited to just the glaives, he’d laughed at more than one of the pranks, but Noctis somehow managed to find his way into the captain’s office these days. No matter how many times they changed the lock. How he managed to get by a ton of trained frontline soldiers, supposedly the best of the best, the elite, without waking a single soul up, no one knew. Nyx shook his head as he headed toward the door. Behind him he could hear Libertus open the fridge, huff, and then shut it again before joining him.

“How does he even get in here.” Libertus said, shaking his head as they walked, following Nyx as if on auto pilot.

In response he shrugged, “If the captain can’t keep him out, what hope do we have?”

Before Libertus could answer, they’d arrived at the end of the hall they were stationed in. Crowe stood leaning against the wall, waiting for them undoubtably. And she had a grin on her face that made Nyx narrow his eyes.

“You look pleased this morning.”

She smiled ever wider at his statement, and shrugged, “I had a good night’s sleep.”

That alone was suspicious, and for a moment, it crossed his mind that perhaps it had been Crowe who’d played the pranks instead. But he put that out of mind. They all had a sense for each other, and there was no way she’d have been able to get into their shared quarters without Libertus or himself noticing. His eyes were still narrowed at her though, as they began walking. She knew something, didn’t she.

The three of them walked together in comfortable silence then, heading toward the café. Crowe never cooked breakfast, usually skipping unless Libertus caught her. This was the sibling’s compromise. Café food in the morning. Though, Nyx liked cooking on his own. Not this morning though. He didn’t want to think about what else could be lurking in their fridge with the googly eyes.

It was a simple matter of getting their food, eating it, and hurrying on. Crowe, meanwhile, talked about Prompto’s first night with them. Nyx looked a little alarmed, having actually managed to forget about their new charge, but she quickly reassured him that he was with Noctis for now. And not alone. Libertus and Nyx looked at each other and realized that was something they needed to settle soon. Who would guard Crowe, and who would guard Prompto from now on. Would he be returning to the high school he attended?

“Oh boy.” Libertus’s voice cut into his thoughts and he looked up, seeing that the glaive’s section was open.

A silent signal that Noctis had been there.

“So we weren’t the only ones bothered last night.”

“Far from it.” A voice called behind him.

The three turned and found Luche and Tredd walking up to them. They looked normal, for the most part. Libertus raised an eyebrow at them and Luche gestured to Tredds shoes. And when they looked down, they saw he was wearing normal sneakers. Crowe snorted, but Nyx frowned.

“Dare I ask…?”

“They’re stuck to the wall with glue.” Tredd shrugged helplessly. “Think the captain will allow ‘I was pranked by the prince’ as an official excuse now?”

Nyx opened his mouth to answer, but then Sonitus had walked up behind the pair. His mood was as dark as a storm cloud, and his kingsglaive mask was on despite it being before training.

Luche turned and said, “Yeesh, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Those three were also a circle, Nyx recalled, and if Nyx could feel Sonitus’s mood from where he was, he wondered at what they were feeling from him. Rather than answer Luche, Sonitus lifted his mask slightly, enough to rub his thumb on the inside of his mask, and then with a firm movement, pressed it against Luche’s cheek and dragged it down his face. Behind it, a dark trail of ink was smeared on Luche, who nearly fell backwards once he realized what Sonitus had done.

The two quickly fell into bickering then, or rather, Luche complained at Sonitus, while Tredd laughed, delighted he wasn’t the only one who’d been hit. Both groups continued on, hurrying into position before the captain arrived. From there, it was business as usual. Though, they were a little confused by the captain’s good mood. Maybe Noctis’s hadn’t gotten him.

By noon, they were all worn out from training, and grateful that the rest of the day was supposed to be free training. Which usually meant being able to take advantage of the training room for sparing. However, Nyx was interrupted by the sight of Ignis hurrying over to their group, a troubled look on his face.

“Pardon me, Nyx, Libertus? Could you join me for a moment?” He glanced around nervously, as if something was going to spring out. Which didn’t make sense, considering he was potentially in the safest place.

“Yeah, sure.” Nyx agreed.

Ignis nodded in acknowledgement, and then turned to Crowe, “And Crowe? The king would like to speak to you. He’s in his office.”

At that, everyone frowned, and the atmosphere grew heavy around them. Crowe didn’t seem too bothered, but behind her, her wings had gone stiff, betraying her worry.

“Alright, I’ll be on my way then.” She said and then left at a quick pace.

The two then followed Ignis into one of the smaller training rooms, often used for private sessions between the prince and his retainers. It was only when the door was closed that Ignis seemed to relax slightly. But not by much. He turned to face them and began to speak.

“I’ll be brief. Last night Prompto’s home was broken into.”

The pair looked at each other, trouble on their faces, and then back.

“Was anything taken?” Nyx asked.

Ignis shook his head, “No. However, do you remember his neighbor? She… Well she’s currently stable, but from what I’ve been able to find, she might have gone to confront the person who broke in. And was thrown with enough force to level the fence between their yards.”

A hiss of sympathy left Libertus then and he couldn’t help the concern, “If nothing was taken, does this mean that Prompto was the target?”

“Potentially. As such, we will be implementing a schedule, so that when outside the citadel, the two of you will be guarding him, while Crowe will have to remain in the Citadel with either the king or prince.” Ignis stated, glancing at the door as if someone was there.

Nyx knew that Barn owl patterns were easily unsettled when younger, due to their odd ability to track danger. But it also could cause some anxiety when there was no need. He’d heard it was hard to separate the two. Of course, it might have to do with the rustling that Nyx heard above them. But that wasn’t anything dangerous, he was sure.

“Something wrong?” Nyx asked, unable to help himself.

Ignis glanced at him and then back at the door. “No, it’s nothing.”

They waited for a moment, and Ignis huffed, giving up the pretense, “Well, actually I feel like I should find Noctis, though I can’t figure out why. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Ignis trailed off and began walking toward the door. When he pulled it open, he frowned and looked down at the floor, as if remembering something.

“Oh…” He then turned to look at the two again, “Please, until we know his neighbor is going to be alright, don’t let Prompto know. There’s also a potential that the King might raise the threat level by one for Kestrels. Just… Keep an eye on both Crowe and Prompto when you can.”

“You got it.” Nyx waved a hand at him and watched him leave. Libertus stood next to him and sighed before deciding to go and find Prompto, since Crowe would be with the king. One of them should be with him starting today if there was an actual threat.

Nyx decided to stay behind, making up an excuse of wanting to run through some forms while he had the room to himself. He waved to Libertus with a smile, watching him leave, and then turned back into the room, and looked up into the far-right corner.

There, perched in the rafters, was Noctis, his eyes wide with surprise that Nyx noticed him.

“Mind explaining what you’re doing up there, your highness?” he called up with amusement in his voice.

Noctis opened his mouth, but no sound came out. And the next time Nyx blinked, there was only the after image of the prince where he’d been sitting. With a sigh Nyx turned toward the doors and saw Noctis making a run for it. Two could play at that game though.

Rather than chuck a knife at the prince, Nyx quickly kicked off his shoe, grabbed it, and threw it. Mentally he said thanks to his mom for his impressive accuracy and warped after it. The shoe hit Noctis on the back of his head, hitting him surprisingly lightly for how hard it was thrown. That didn’t stop him from letting out a shocked cry, nor did it prepare him for Nyx crashing into him at full speed.

While Noctis wasn’t prepared for him, Nyx was. He wrapped his arms around his waist, careful not to ruffle his feathers too badly, and lifted him off the ground. Noctis flailed for a moment, before simply going dead weight, caught and accepting defeat.

“Nothing good I take it.” Nyx muttered, and Noctis let out an almost petulant sounding tweet in response.

He released Noctis, who immediately glared at him and went to setting his wings back in order.

“You don’t know that!” He snapped, annoyed more than anything else that he’d been found.

Nyx only shook his head with a laugh and let Noctis fix his feathers. While he did that, he began looking through the rafters. Upon seeing no one else up there, his brows pulled back down into a frown. “Isn’t Prompto supposed to be with you?”

Noctis’s hands paused in their movements for the slightest of seconds before he answered, “Dad called him up to the throne room earlier today. Said it was to go over some of the details of living in the citadel. Also, to see if we could get in touch with his parents to explain. Though… I supposed that wasn’t true.”

Noctis’s eyes locked onto Nyx’s with an almost accusing look on his face.

Nyx held up his hands in an almost surrendering manner. “Don’t look at me like that, I just found out a bit ago.”

Noctis stared at him a moment longer before going back to what he was doing, though he was almost finished. It was after a beat of silence when he spoke again.

“Prompto deserves to know.”

At that, Nyx couldn’t say much, other than agreeing, “He does. But it’s for his safety that he doesn’t. Just until we find out if he was the target or not.”

Noctis stares that the floor for a moment, before nodding as if he’d also made up his mind, “Yeah, I suppose…”

Nyx breathes a sigh of relief, “I’m glad you understand, I mean I would-“

Before he could blink Noctis had warped away and was out the door, calling back to him, “That we’ll have to agree to disagree!”

“Son of a-“ Nyx warped after him to try and catch him, nearly running a few glaives over in the process.

“Hey Nyx! Where’s the fire!?” One called after him, mildly upset about being knocked into.

“Magpie!” Was all Nyx called back before chasing after Noctis.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #Noctis Lucis Caelum #noctis #nyx ulric #nyx #libertus #libertus ostium #Crowe #crowe altius #wing au #wings au #wing #wings #writing #writings #ffxv fic #final fantasy xv fic #chirp

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a-certain-nigerian-toyota · 6 years ago

Note

Pardon me if this question causes a fit of rage, but did you ever like Steve Unverse? (Typo is intentional btw)

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I did.

Rebecca Sugar’s work on Adventure Time already got me curious when it first aired, and it was hard to not get sucked in with all the overnight hype.

I feel like I was subconsciously aware of the show’s problems for a while, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Eventually, the ludicrously incompetent writing and the shitty politics made it impossible to ignore how much of a trainwreck the series became, and I just tapped out.

I feel like there’s a semblance of potential for a good story in SU. If it were, you know, made by literally any other group of people and handled by any other network.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk

#asks

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jarienn972 · 7 years ago

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A Detective’s Intuition

This is a little bit of S7 drabble that I thought of yesterday. I put it together pretty quickly so please pardon any typos I may have missed while editing. It’s my first venture into S7 territory with a little piece speculating on one way Detective Rogers could potentially get his memories back...

AO3 FF.net

Rogers didn’t know what to call it. Intuition maybe? Some strange sixth sense? He just knew something wasn’t right and that he had to find her. They’d certainly developed a friendship over the past few months, meeting weekly for a rather unorthodox game of chess and perhaps, they’d found a bit of a kinship in each other’s company as well. He could be mistaken, but she seemed to enjoy their time together and maybe, just maybe, they each were finding a way to combat the loneliness.

Today, his gut was telling him that Tilly was in danger. He didn’t know why that was, but he’d been sitting at home, nearly asleep in his black leather recliner when he’d bolted awake, awash with a sudden trepidation that caught him off-guard. He wasn’t sure what to make of the sensation at first, but to put his own mind at ease, he decided to seek her out, tugging on his boots and navy blue microsuede jacket before heading out into the night.

The weather this evening was awful and as he drove through the blinding rain, his found that his headlights were scarcely enough to illuminate the street. He pulled the car off to the side of the road beneath the freeway overpass where she usually hung out, typically somewhere on or around that hideous troll sculpture. Truthfully, he hoped he wouldn’t find her out here as the concrete highway above barely provided shelter from the torrential downpour. In the dim light, he spied her lounging atop the stone beast’s humungous hand, possibly asleep but more likely just laying with her eyes closed as she focused on the sounds around her. She’d often told him that she was very in-tune with the neighborhood, although he wasn’t always certain he believed her.

Well, at least she was relatively dry where she rested, was the thought that ran through his mind as he threw the gear shift into park and pushed the car door open. He wasn’t sure where the thought had come from or why he was so concerned for this girl’s welfare, but there was some connection that he couldn’t deny. He just wished he could figure out what it was.

“Tilly?” he called to garner her attention as the door swung open. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see her visitor just as he caught sight of a shadow moving behind her. He couldn’t exit the car rapidly enough though as the shadow figure swooped down upon the seemingly unaware young woman. “Tilly! Look out!”

She heard his shouted warning and rolled off of the sculpted hand, dropping to the asphalt as a faceless figure in a long, hooded dark robe perched above her. Rogers wasted no time drawing his weapon, firing a warning shot that ricocheted off the concrete pilon behind the figure in hopes that it would frighten away the hooded attacker. It seemed to have the intended effect as the mysterious man or woman hopped down from the troll statue and darted of to the south, towards a row of three and four story warehouse buildings that bordered the freeway.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he reached Tilly, crouching beside the startled but seemingly unharmed girl.

“I’m fine,” she replied as she brushed her mop of unruly blonde curls off of her face, slightly stunned by the unprovoked attack, but not hurt. “What was that all about?”

“I intend to find out,” he stated firmly, tossing her his car keys. “Stay here. Go get in my car so you’re out of this rain.” Before she could argue, he was in pursuit of the person in the hooded cloak, running out into the rain as a clap of thunder echoed amongst the buildings.

He’d watched the shadow pass in front of the first warehouse which was well-lit on this end by a brilliant spotlight, but then he’d lost sight of the person as he couldn’t tell if he or she had run into the alley between the buildings or if they’d continued south. He made the decision that they must have gone down the alley since he’d not seen any shadows creeping past the second warehouse. He knew to tread cautiously, leading with his weapon and his flashlight while raindrops lashed his face. Visibility was awful in this darkened alley even without precipitation soaking him, rivulets relentlessly streaming down over his eyes even as he wiped them away with his sleeve.

He panned the flashlight’s narrow beam back and forth across the narrow passage between the warehouses, sweeping up toward fire escapes and windows on the structures surrounding him. A brief flash of lightning gave him a glimpse of his quarry even before he heard the sound of iron bars clanking and squeaking from the fire escape at the far end of the building on his left. He immediately shone his light in that direction to see the hooded figure scurrying up the fire escape’s ladder.

“Seattle Police! Stop where you are!” he demanded, but the hooded figure gave no heed to his orders, reaching the landing level of the fire escape on the second story, darting up the metal stairs to ascend to the next level. Damn it, he muttered to himself, sprinting now through the storm to reach that same rusty metal ladder which hung at least seven or eight feet above the alleyway. He stood nearly six foot tall and could barely reach the bottom rung without standing on something so it seemed clear that the only way to access it was going to be climbing atop the dumpster situated about two feet away.

He kept the flashlight trained on his suspect as he took a moment to assess the situation. The dumpster was positioned close enough to the ladder that one could easily jump to the ladder from it and without sufficient time to look for an alternative, it was his only option as well. Tucking his weapon back into its holster and pocketing the flashlight, he hoisted himself onto the dumpster lid and clambered to his feet before pausing while standing at the edge of the container closest to the ladder. He could no longer see the fleeing suspect, but he could still hear their footsteps on the metal treads above him.

What the hell was he doing? He had decent upper body strength so leaping across to the ladder and hanging on wasn’t going to be extremely difficult, but it was in situations like this that he was reminded that while his prosthetic hand could mimic some of the functions of his real hand, it wasn’t exactly designed for grip – especially on a rain-slickened ladder. He should have called for back-up, but he hadn’t. He’d taken off on his own and right now, his suspect was getting away from him so he took a second to judge the distance necessary then jumped to the ladder, striking it a little harder than he’d anticipated.

He scrambled for a foothold while hanging on tightly with his right hand until his left foot at last caught the bottommost rung, allowing him to catch his balance before hooking his left arm around the outer edge of the ladder. It wouldn’t be the fastest way to climb this contraption, but he could at least use the crook of his left elbow to maintain hold on the ladder while his right hand reached upward to a higher rung. Once he could reach the landing above him, the stairs wouldn’t be a problem, but there was already something nagging at him which could pose a definite challenge: getting himself off of the ladder and onto the metal grate surface of the landing. The ladder ended at a three-foot square opening in the floor and getting through was going to require a bit of a leap of faith as he would be required to let go entirely with his left arm so that he could get high enough on the ladder to reach the single handrail above and pull himself through. There wouldn’t be anything he could wrap his left arm around until he was through the opening as there was no way the mechanical fingers of his prosthetic could grasp anything tightly enough to support his bodyweight.

He made a mental note to contact the Fire Marshal tomorrow to have this deathtrap inspected, but he had to push forward, climbing another few rungs until his hand reached the iron grate work, but now he had to unwrap his supporting left arm from the side rail and try to quickly figure some way to steady himself until he had a solid grip on that handrail above. He had his artificial fingers bent around the top rung of the ladder, but he knew he couldn’t rely on them. He just needed to somehow maintain his balance long enough to propel himself up through that opening – and he knew how risky it was. He just needed a little luck on his side…

After a brief hesitation where his brain attempted to talk his body out of doing this, he pushed off with his right foot as hard as he could, leaping through the hole with his hand raised above him. He managed to get his fingers wrapped around the cold, damp iron, but it wasn’t a secure grip, his fingers already trembling as his left arm swung wildly and his feet tried to find purchase against the ladder again. He hadn’t managed to get himself high enough to get his left arm up onto the landing and he couldn’t seem to get his feet back onto the rungs. He didn’t know if it was just him shaking as his right arm protested or if it was the entire fire escape, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on. He needed to get a better grip or he was going to fall, but the relentless rain and his nearly useless prosthetic hand were only part of his current dilemma.

In an instant, there was nothing to hold onto as the handrail snapped, unable to bear the strain of his weight. He had no handhold, no foothold that he could acquire fast enough, everything in reach slipping through his fingers as he fell and before he could react, his head struck the corner of the dumpster as he landed awkwardly on the asphalt, his left shoulder taking the brunt of the blow. His head was throbbing as he rolled onto his back, unaware of the laceration that had ripped open the skin at his temple until blood began to stream down the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t fallen far, but the landing had knocked the wind out of him and now, everything hurt. His head. His shoulder. His chest.

But mostly his head he thought as he lay there in the alley knowing that he should try to get up. Should try to get back to Tilly. Should try to get help…

“Detective!” he heard a voice echo in his ears. A woman’s voice. Tilly? No, that’s not right… Was her name Tilly? His mind was a fog and his vision was blurring as the girl approached. Her blonde hair was drenched, matted to her head as she knelt beside him. “Detective Rogers, are you okay?” she asked as the tables had now turned and she was expressing her concern for him as the hooded assailant was forgotten. He wanted to answer her, but he couldn’t, his tenuous grip on consciousness rapidly fading. “Where’s your phone?” she asked, anxiously patting his pockets in search of the device which she found as he shifted his hip enough so that she could reach beneath the gun holster and into the front right pocket of his jeans. Having been safely on his right side when he landed, the phone was undamaged and Tilly scrambled to find Weaver’s phone number in his list of contacts.

She tapped on the other detective’s number and listened to it ring twice before he answered. “Detective Rogers, what can I do for you at this hour?”

“Not Rogers. Tilly.” She spat out the words nervously, not really sure what else to do. “Someone tried to attack me. Rogers went after them and fell. He’s hurt. Need your help.” She sounded like a little girl as she started shaking and even sobbing through the words.

“Where are you?” Weaver asked.

“Alley near the troll bridge.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Weaver had already disconnected the call, but Tilly was still clutching the phone as she glanced down at her wounded friend beside her. “Weaver is on his way. He’ll know what to do…” she told Rogers.

Weaver…? Rogers’ head wasn’t processing anything correctly right now. Who was Weaver? His partner? Why couldn’t he shake the thought that there was something more…? And the girl – she’d called herself Tilly, but the name didn’t sound right. Why didn’t anything make sense right now? Just how hard had he struck his head…?

Why did he suddenly feel as though everything was wrong? He stared up at the young woman’s face, finding himself wondering why her eyes looked as blue as his own as he faded into unconsciousness.

It was daylight when he opened his eyes again, aware that he was in a hospital room. His head still ached, especially where the torn skin had been mended with a dozen stitches, although it didn’t feel quite as bad as last night. He found his left shoulder heavily bandaged and his prosthetic hand was missing, not that he was concerned about the mechanical appendage at the moment. He might be under the influence of painkillers and likely a multitude of other drugs, but his mind hadn’t been this clear in a long time.

Reaching down to locate the controls to raise the head of the hospital bed, he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. Another man, clad in a weathered dark tan leather jacket and slightly too long blue jeans leaned against the wall to his left.

“Concussion, separated shoulder, couple of bruised ribs… You’re pretty lucky that it wasn’t a lot worse considering you decided to take off after an unknown assailant without backup.” The other man’s tone was demeaning and accusatory, but he didn’t care what his visitor thought. He’d done what he needed to do and he’d do it again.

“Wasn’t time to call for back up,” he informed the older man.

“What were you doing out there in the middle of the night? Tilly said you pulled up just before someone tried to attack her.”

“My instinct told me she was in trouble, and I was right.”

“Your instinct could have gotten you killed, Detective Rogers. Good thing you only fell about ten feet.”

“I did what I had to do to protect her,” he insisted. “And my name isn’t Rogers. It’s Jones, and your name isn’t Weaver…”

“Welcome back, Captain,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a devilish grin. “If I’d known a good blow to the head would have brought your memories back sooner, I’d have done it.”

“Yeah, well, they’re back now and I have a bloody witch to strangle! Where’s Alice?”

“Outside. I sent her to get me some tea because I had a hunch you might be awake. She doesn’t have her memories back yet though, just glimpses of her former life which make her think she’d mad.”

“I will protect my daughter, you know that.”

“As will I. We’ll find the hooded figure that she described. In fact, I already have a hunch who might be responsible…”

“Then let’s go get her! She has bested me twice already. It will not happen again!”

“We will deal with her later. Right now, spend some time with your daughter and get some rest. You’re going to need it for what’s coming…”

He wanted to argue further, but in truth, the Crocodile was right. The battle would come eventually, they always did. Right now, he just wanted to hug his little girl while he still could, even if she didn’t know he was her father.

#detective rogers #knightrook #knightrook ff #ouat s7 #ouat s7 ff

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