Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Shin Hyakuji High School Tvtropes


The Book that is Hyakuji's Story has come to a close. However, there are still plenty of stories left to be told in the madcap Anime Universe it inhabits. As one book closes, so too does another open. Presented by veteran Hyakuji Staff Members, check out the next generation EVOLUTION of "Anything-Goes" Anime Roleplaying at Senki Academy


Add Reply
Not Long Enough.
Topic Started: Dec 4 2010, 12:56 PM (384 Views)
Maria
Member Avatar
Wrong...in all the right ways.
Aurora walked into her apartment door and sighed, kicking off her shoes as soon as she walked through the door. Her body fully relaxed as soon as she walked into her home; the only place she felt safe any more. Her hand flicked some light switches, illuminating the place while she unpinned her bangs and let them fall into her face. She took a look back at the quiet Ryan and motioned her head, walking slowly into her room and to the bathroom.

"You need a shower." Aurora leaned down and dug into her bottom drawer, throwing some clothes in his general direction. She had some clothing that should fit Ryan, and he needed to take a shower...the poor boy smelled like garbage and death.

"Take your time kid." With a wink and a nod, Aurora walked off to do her own thing. She hated this stupid uniform that the bar made her wear; if it got any shorter or tighter, she might burst. Slowly, she peeled it off her body and changed into something a bit more comfortable, a pair of sweats and no shirt.

Meanwhile, she wandered into her living room and sat down on the couch, thinking. Those men hadn't come to her bar again, and she was starting to worry. People don't come into the bar dressed like that, nor do they just...stop coming. Once they had gotten her name; the look in their eye was like a child that had just opened their Christmas present.

That couldn't be good.

Aurora gnawed on her lip and stared off into the distance, trying to figure out what in the world was going to go down. She had a deep rooted feeling that something was going to go very wrong, very quickly. Now the question was just...when was it going to happen?
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
North

How long had it been...
Since a shower? A hot meal? One, single, good night's rest? How long had it been? Since he'd left Alaska? Since he'd left Greece? Japan, the first time? It didn't matter; he followed his old partner through the winding streets of Hyakuji, memorizing patterns. What roads went where. Traffic lights. Back alleys wide enough for a car to fit through; wide enough for a motorcycle. More so, the latter. From the docks, to the bar. From the bar, to her apartment. All in all, he'd gone a little under seven kilometers. Counting steps, breathing in deep the cold, chill air of the night. If his arm wasn't burning from the recent cauterization, he'd be much colder. He could smell the dank, rust-covered bridges; he could feel the ebb and flow of powers around the place. Or at least, he thought he could. Why here, then? Why Hyakuji? Was it another test, passed down from his old Mentor, Grim? Was it just coincidence, that Aurora was here as well? Or was it fate? Was it fate he walked into her bar, on this day? No; it couldn't be; and he laughed, smoothly, to himself. He must be tired. Ryan Knox was a man who didn't believe in someone else pulling strings, and creating destinies. He was of the impression, he carved his own path. Blood, bullets, broken bones and bowls of oatmeal, he'd carve it again, here. One day at a time.
But not tonight. Tonight, we rest.

Just outside the door, Ryan hesitated; it was a fleeting moment of pause; long enough for only one breath; one extra blink. She could kill him in his sleep for what he'd done to her. Did he trust her that much not to? Or was he just so tired, so down-n-out, it didn't matter? He strode through the door, locked it behind him. Nasty habit he'd picked up; paranoia. He slipped himself out of his trekking boots and, before he knew it, was more focused on eyeing the apartment than watching her walk away. It was nice. Quaint. It was better than a rain-splattered temple in Fiji - better than a tarp and two sticks in Barcelona. But they had had some fu-....best not to think about that, now. To see her, with a job, with an apartment, to see her settled down...it was odd. And he smirked. Who'd have ever thought the woman he'd met so many years ago could grow into a fine young woman.

A nod and a wink later, he was in the shower-room. The hot water kicked on without the shake, rattle and roll of creaking pipes; it came out clear, not orange. It didn't smell of sulfur; it didn't smell like anything. He sighed. In front of the mirror he tugged at the damp clothes, clinging to his body - with his one good arm he could raise. The holster hung up on the curtain; the blood-and-grime splattered shirt found it's way to the sink - he turned on the water. Maybe it'd rinse some of it all out. With a pensive, ginger touch he removed the wrapping around his bicep; uncovered the wound. It looked worse than it felt. And it felt like shit. He groaned, he unrobed, and he slipped himself into the first shower he'd taken in months.

It's a sigh of sweet relief; a vulnerable feeling of security, safety. It's the supple caress of disarmingly warm water wrapping around his form in a thin sheath. He kept his arm against the wall, kept his head down; watching the muted blood an grime wash away down the drain. Splatters of black, deep red, thin rivulets of scarlet and chestnut leaking down his vapid existence. His fingertips traced over the scars covering his body; the bullet-holes from Nepal. The stitched-up scar from Morocco. The trap-arrow slice from Sparta. The lung-puncture from his first assignment for Grim; and every puncture, prod and poke from the years underground in that lab. Gingerly, he felt his back; felt where the wings he'd once had formed from; but there was no scar; it was his word against the reality that he, for one, short minute, had flown; had bent reality into something beyond just illusions, smoke and mirrors. For a time, they called him Zeus. For a time, he was a God among Men. But those days, they were gone. Gone, like the water down the drain and all that was left was the clean, barren slate. A man. Just a man with a gun and a bad attitude, with more experience in his short few years than most would ever see in their entire lives. He shut the water off.

With a steady hand, he carved out his stubble with the ballistic knife; keeping his beard-hairs wet, soft, and the blade-edge sharp. One slip and the blade would blow through his throat, through the wall, and it'd be game over. Nothing like a knife to your throat to wake you up. Hair down the drain, he dried off, wrapped his form, and rummaged the medicine cabinet. Gauze, medical wrap, anti-infection ointment. He wrapped his arm securely, tightly, with medical gauze that wove from just below his shoulder, to where the t-shirt would stop. Too much exertion and it would rip; it would bleed again and he would have to change it. He put his clothes on; left the bathroom. It'd been forty-five minutes since he'd been in there; and to be honest? He did [at least, in part] look like a slightly different man walking out. Clean clothes, shaved, no dried blood on his face. It was refreshing. And, the sulfer-smell was gone. Two points.

Walking back out into the room he had his holster over his shoulder and was in the process of clipping his ballistic knife back to his wrist. He sat down across from Aurora and nodded, in thanks. It was about all she'd get out of him for the hospitality.

"I know that face. Something's up. Spill, Aurora."
What? Partners in crime know it all.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Maria
Member Avatar
Wrong...in all the right ways.
At the sound of the shower turning off, Auora's eyes focused and turned towards where Ryan would be walking. Her teeth still worried her lower lip, as her mind chewed over facts and possible solutions. What was she going to do about this? There was easily one of two things that she could do. She could stand her ground and fight, send a message that the fat bastard would never forget, or she could take the fight to him. Either one seemed a little more than reckless, and could end her in a bit of trouble. What she needed to do was buy herself some time.

She glanced at Ryan as he walked in the room, and a thought crossed her mind. If there was anyone she trusted, anyone she knew could keep himself safe for a period of time, it was Ryan. Aurora needed to buy herself just enough time to take the fight to the bastard who knew who she was. She had made a mistake, letting the man live after seeing a memorable feature, but Aurora would not hesitate to fix it, no matter where she was. Unfortunately, that would leave a trail of at least four men who knew what she looked like. Aurora frowned. This was becoming a bigger mess than she had initially anticipated. Mentally, she began preparing herself for the fight she knew was ahead of her, all while staring straight at Ryan.

He sat down and she moved her feet, resting them back on his lap with no hesitation. Old partners indeed. They were too used to one another-every move was predicted and anticipated, reacted to in the way that only someone who had depended on the other for their very life could react. The nod was appreciated, anticipated. In reaction Aurora said nothing, just nodded back. Her teeth were still worrying her bottom lip, an obvious thinking motion that she would only show to those she trusted her life to. It was an unconscious movement, something that would show how completely and totally relaxed she was around him, that something that could convey emotion was shown around him with little to no thought.

"I know that face. Something's up. Spill, Aurora."

"You look good." And he did, with his face clean-shaven and the grime cleaned off his chiseled body. The years had not been unkind to him, building him in lean muscle and an aura around him that made her want to lean closer. Fortunately for her, she had tasted the forbidden fruit, knew that it was better for her to just stay away. Of course, that didn't mean that she would...

"I have a problem Ryan." Aurora stood and walked away from her old partner, towards a closet where she held shoes and coats. She opened it and moved the coats out of the way, digging her fingers in the wall and opening a small compartment. Leaning in and rummaging around, she found what she was looking for.

"You see..." Aurora closed the compartment and shut the closet. "I found this gauntlet...and I don't know how to work it." She looked at Ryan and smirked, dangerous and slow. "But I do know what's in it. Ever heard of a hidden blade, Knox?"

She was going to buy herself more time.
Edited by Maria, Dec 4 2010, 05:53 PM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
North

You look good? Really? Physical maturity in the late twenties do two things; if you stop eating healthy, you get a beer-gut and type-two diabetes. If you stay active, you're going to end up leaner, stronger, and [in his line of work] a touch more rugged than you were at age nineteen. Were the years good to him? Running for his life, running down marks, hunting, slicing, shooting; yeah. Yeah, they were. He would only trade them for one thing; his life to have never happened the way it did. But there was no point milling about that. So, bygones be bygones, and yeah; he looked good. Years in the jungles and under water did his body well. And that was around the time he truly took her in again; hair down, sweatpants and a sports-bra. That body of hers looked just as toned as the day he walked out on it. And, not for nothin'...let's be real. He missed that ass. But their Romeo and Juliet story was cast asunder. Water under the bridge. There was blood in the water, and a lot of late nights in memory; but tonight? Well. In due time.

"I have a problem Ryan."
Yeah, that's how these things all start... "Alright. Well I solve problems. What's up."

He watched her saunter over to the Japanese closet, smirking at it again. She had a space for spare coats and shoes. So she was having a fashion emergency? That wasn't exactly his department; not anymore. Back in the day, back when Cicely was a major part of his world and life seemed so much simpler; in a strange way. The drama of the every day seemed so much more...passionate. Now instead of math tests and break-ups it was worrying about a roof over a head and food in the stomach. He could give a flying fuck about anything else; but the shoe-problem? Well, hey, everyone has different priorities. Sometimes, he wondered about her. How she was doing. But he knew to leave the past in the past; she was gone. So was the boy she knew. But, that's not here nor there; shoes and coats, now. Maybe she wanted him to come with her to go sho-....wait, secret compartments? Scratch that. This is about to get interesting.

As Aurora was saying the words, A Hidden Blade, so was Ryan. He knew what it was before she even said anything. Gauntlet could have been anything; but that leather, those buckles, that modified mechanism from the latest codex; it was a real, true, honest-to-god Hidden Blade. Holy shit. In an instant, he was back in a slow-jam, a few years back; hiding out and playing xBox. Assassin's Creed's free-running, wall-jumping anti-hero Altair was all the rage. And then the second game came out; introducing Ezio Auditore de Firenze, the badass to end all badasses. Had he heard of a hidden blade. Hah! He'd been thinking of contracting someone to make one ever since he played that game into the ground.

"Oh, I've heard of 'em alright...Let me see that thing..."

He was already off the couch, and gracefully removed her object from her hands. It wasn't stiff; the leather felt soft in his hands. Worn; used. Aged, who knew how many years. One? One hundred? Five? In his hurry and excitement to fit it to himself, he unclasped the ballistic knife and tossed it to her, clasp and all. It didn't take him but a moment to situate the hidden blade to his wrist. It was snug. Not uncomfortable, and not heavy; but it was there. He looked at it under the light. Studied the shining, chipped steel. The worn leather. This had seen time. Seen use. He liked it already. "Let's see. How did they-..." When he threw his wrist down, in classic AC form, the blade shot out from it's holster. he held it back up to the light. Wrapped his hand around the blade;like a miniature sword. "Oh, this could be fun...Hello, Auditore."

The wanna-be-assassin eyed up the contraption on his wrist. It felt alien, but he liked it. Probably just the rush of getting it to fire without losing his fingers. With another short, quick motion the blade retreated into it's sheath; and if you hadn't just seen it, you'd think he were just wearing a bracelet. He fired it again; retracted it. He smirked, playing at the It's all in the wrist motif. Of course, he had no idea how it worked; just that, for now, it did. Like a kid with a new toy, he continued to be amused with it; until he turned back towards Aurora. Shit; this was hers. Once again, she's got all the good toys.

"That's the problem? You couldn't figure it out? It's not built for a thin wrist, darlin'; but I'm sure you can make it work. It needs to be snapped quick. All in the wrist. I gotta get you playing more video games...heh'. But, yeah. It's simple. Just gotta get the hang of it."
He started unclasping the device, to hand it back to her.
"So where'd you pick this up, anyhow? Not exactly a common find..."
Edited by North, Dec 4 2010, 09:14 PM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Maria
Member Avatar
Wrong...in all the right ways.
"So you’re the one they call Ruby, huh?" The man who stood in front of her was pudgy, soft handed; the kind of man who had never done a day of hard labor in his life, the man who was so used to hiring out other men and women he wouldn’t know what to do if you told him no. Unfortunately, he also looked like the kind of man who wouldn’t take no for an answer. By the fire in his clouded eyes, Aurora could tell that someone had the balls enough to tell this man no.

And he didn’t like that one bit.

"I am." Aurora never lowered her hood; never let this man see her face. She wasn’t stupid. The moment that you let someone like this see your face was the moment you agreed to give up your freedom. So instead, she hid in the shadows of the bar they had chosen to meet in, her back against the wall, her golden eyes roaming the bar, picking out people to be suspicious of. Her voice was indifferent, neither here nor there, showing no particular interest in what was being said to her, nor was it interesting enough to be remembered. She was a shadow, here in this moment, gone in the next.

Ryan had taught her that.

"I didn't expect a woman..." They never do. "but I'm assuming your competent enough to finish this job. There's a man by the name of Jonathon Lyon. He's an artifact collector here in town. He's stolen something from me and I want it back." The man's pudgy fists pounded into the table and Aurora sank deeper into the shadows, blending in completely as people started to stare. When their eyes turned away, she reappeared, listening to the rest of his story.

"It’s a bag." Aurora listened carefully, but when nothing else came, she almost sneered. That was it? This man was paying her 10,000 American dollars to retrieve a bag? Well hell, if that’s what he wanted to spend his money on, who was she to complain? The man leaned close to her, breathing in her face and making her wrinkle her nose. It was a damn good thing he couldn’t see her face, this man’s breath smelled of rotten meat and decaying bodies.

"I want him dead. You understand me woman? I want him dead, his body disposed of, and no trace of him anywhere." Again, Aurora said nothing, but suddenly she understood. He was paying her to kill the man, not just retrieve the bag. This must be some kind of bag. The man leaned back, and Aurora tapped the table. The man placed money on the table, and with one glance, she knew it was only half.

"Half now, half after I have the bag." Aurora’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, her face still invisible. She didn’t play that game; she learned quickly that she would get screwed out of her money if she trusted that. Aurora tapped the table again more forcefully this time. The man opened his mouth to protest and promptly turned white. The tip of her knife grazed the inside of his thigh, cutting the fabric open as it traveled upwards. Sometimes it just took a little extra emphasis to get her point across. Quick like greased lightning, money appeared on the table, and Aurora leaned back, satisfied in the amount he put down. She smirked beneath her hood and swept the money off the table in one fluid motion, waiting for the rest of her instructions.

The man in front of her panted and glared his face white and sweating. Aurora didn’t give a flying shit about what he felt, she got her money. So she sat back, stared at this man indifferently, while he shook and overcame his disbelief that a woman could do this to him. It was taking him longer than most of her other clients. Aurora raised an eyebrow at the fire that roared in his eyes when he stared at her again.

"The bag must be in my hands by midnight tomorrow." Aurora had heard enough. She got up and walked towards the door, ignoring the pouting man behind her. She knew what she was looking for and when he wanted it back, she needed no more information. Her hand touched the door—
Her head was yanked back by the pudgy mans fist. Her hood went flying off, and her hair was exposed. Thankfully, she was facing the door, cornered away from the man. There was no way he could see her face, but her hair was in plain view. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit…

"So that’s why they call you-" Aurora kicked into action, and in one fluid motion, yanked up her hood and spun around, wrapping her arm around her contractors fat neck while pressing her knife to it hard enough to make a swelling red dot appear. She pressed both her arm and the knife down harder on this man’s neck, whispering in his ear.

"You have made a grave mistake." Slowly, she traveled her knife across the man’s neck, stopping when she was half way across. She couldn’t kill him here. There were too many people who would remember something. But she could leave him with a scar to remember. While he dropped to the floor, holding his bleeding neck and proclaiming that he was going to make her pay for maiming him like this.

But she was already gone.

Like a shadow, here one moment, gone the next. The only problem with this shadow was that she had been noticed, and she had made a horrible mistake. No one who had seen Ruby’s face had ever lived; she couldn’t chance it. She had made some powerful enemies, but no one knew how to find her, no matter how hard they searched her contacts. They only knew her as “Ruby”, the one who could get the job done; the one who would just as soon stab you in the heart as take your money. Now…now someone had seen her hair; could identify her easily because of it.

And she had let him live.

Ruby found the man just as easily as she found the moon—watched him walk without care to his personal being, right down the abandoned street. Ruby watched….waited. There was nothing. No shadows moving, no one obviously following him. It was the man and his bag Ruby sank into the shadows and followed him until he was close to the docks. There, she snatched him out of the light, and with one, quick motion, slashed his throat. Blood splattered all over the wall, and while the man struggled for those last, fleeting breaths, she went through his bag. There were jewels, a map, and…

Hello. What is this…?

Aurora reached in and grabbed some sort of leather armor, staring at it with a strange smile. What did this do? She tipped it this way and that, finally shaking it. With a sliding noise that was loud in the silence of the night, a knife popped out. Aurora shook her head for a minute, and then began to laugh.

You’ve gotta be shittin’ me…

It was a hidden blade. Aurora thought these things were a myth, the kind of stuff you only saw in video games and heard the old men talk about. Aurora took the bag, and the man, dumping him in the sea after tying cinderblocks to his feet. Now what was she going to do about this hidden blade…?

She was going to keep it.


Present Day:

Aurora sat on the arm of her couch and looked at Ryan as he played with the hidden blade. What was she going to do about this…? There was something wrong with this hidden blade, and she knew it. Since she had taken it, men had shown up at her bar, dressed in business clothes. While that wouldn’t be too unfamiliar, these business men never ordered anything, they just sat and stared, waiting patiently and refusing all waiters until Aurora arrived. Even then, they wouldn’t order anything. They would just observe her actions and reactions, never saying anything to any of the other customers, always staying until the bar closed.

It didn’t take long for the girl to put two and two together. She knew that there was a direct connection between the hidden blade, the man she had stolen it from, and the men who were appearing at her bar. Now the only question was, what was she going to do about it? Aurora bit her lower lip and thought, staring at nothing and everything all at once. She had bought herself time, and now that Ryan had it, she could take care of the man who was after her…after the hidden blade. On the other hand, this begged the question: why was this so important? What was up with this blade that made her employer hunt her down?

She didn't know now, but she was sure like hell going to find out.

Aurora's eyes focused as she turned towards Ryan and smirked, shaking her head. Reaching out and capturing the unoccupied wrist in her hand, turning it over and running her fingers over the ballistic knife, Aurora made a drastic decision. She needed time to find this bastard and kill him and his lackeys. She also needed the proper weapon to be able to do so with little to no effort-and let's be honest, her little pocket knife, though good it has been to her, wouldn't cut it. However, the ballistic knife around Ryan's wrist would...

"You look like someone just killed your puppy." Aurora snorted and made eye contact, smiling that impish little smile that used to make Ryan shiver from head to toe. She was pulling out all the stops to get what she wanted. "I tell you what sugar..." Aurora stepped closer and gripped Ryan's wrist just a tad bit tighter. "You can have the hidden blade...if I can have your knife."

Conveniently, she dodged around the question of where she picked it up from, hoping (but not being so naive as to believe) that he would forget that he asked in lieu of the proposition before him. She didn't want to admit that she had messed up, not in front of someone that she had both traveled with, and learned under. It was a matter of pride, a matter of saying that she could deal with her own messes.

Well...it was all that, and the fact that Aurora really did want that ballistic knife. Ryan was right; this gauntlet wasn't built for someone with wrists like hers...but Ryan's? He could function it like it was built just for him. So in return for giving him something he wanted, Aurora wanted the one thing she had always craved. And Ryan would give it to her, if he had any sort of brain. For all his rugged looks and devil-may-care attitude, she knew he had a brain...and she knew he would jump at the chance to have a new toy.

Come on Knox...give me a break...
Edited by Maria, Dec 4 2010, 09:46 PM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
North

It was the second her skin touched his that things started to go south real quick. Her hand on his wrist; and his blood ran cold; shivered. Damn her; Damn her straight to Hell. He could see that look in her eyes; the fire in her soul. She had blood on her mind. He could see it in her eyebrow's slant; in the way her jaw clenched ever-so-subtle. There was trouble in little Japanese paradise. But now, the question was simple; or, relatively simple. Leave her to her own business, or offer a helping hand. How would it be seen? By not offering to help, was he being rude, callous? By offering, was he telling her he didn't think she could do it on her own? There seemed to be no way to win; it was a zero-sum game.

He stopped unbuckling the blade.

Sugar? He smirked. How many years had it been since she'd called him that? So this was the proposition. Give up the ballistic knife in exchange for the hidden blade. He thought back, looking at the blade on his wrist in one hand [metaphorically...] and the blade in her hand. He remembered all the jams it had gotten him out of; all the people it had been injected into; locks it had knocked down where a bullet wouldn't do the trick. Rope it had sliced when he couldn't reach. Runaway targets he needed alive. But then, tied down and out, he couldn't even get free without Grim's help. Tied down, with the hidden blade? He'd have been out of there in seconds. Cut it with the hidden blade. Bingo; done. So, in reality, he needed both; or rather, some sort of strap-on projectile. He'd have to find his own Da Vinci; but until then change just might be a good thing.

But still. Something didn't seem quite right...

"Alright. You can keep Charlotte. I'll take the hidden blade. Could be fun. But listen hear, dearheart..." It was, at this point, he backed her up against the door; at this point he leaned in close enough he could have smacked her with his eyelashes at every blink; and in a moment, there was a sinister man Monster before her; one with another two years beyond the hardships she knew. Colder, rougher, and more dangerous than she'd remember. He whispered; low enough, she'd strain to hear...
"If you are trying to drag me into your shit...if you are putting my life in danger just for a little payback...I swear to you, I will leave a bloodtrail in my wake until I find you. And I will make you regret it. Payback's a Bitch."

And then, as if he had not threatened her life and half of Japan, he leaned in, kissed that soft spot on her neck, and stole back to the couch with a curt smirk. The Devil went down to Japan, ladies and Gentlemen. The bastard that he was. He sat against the arm, feet up, facing the doorway; facing her, keeping one eye on the blade on his wrist; one eye on her.
They were now in the danger-zone. Together. Just like the good old days.
Time, again, to sleep with one eye open. Grippin' the pillow tight.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Maria
Member Avatar
Wrong...in all the right ways.
A single look told Aurora all she needed to know. She had won this one, but he knew she was in trouble, as all good partners knew. Aurora watched Ryan's eyes flicker back and forth, watched his mind work with a soft smirk. She could see him going through solutions and complications, torn between what he wanted and what he had. The moment he opened his mouth, she knew she had the knife. It was perfect. She could take care of her business tonight, be done by morning and still have her knife.

The next thing she knew, she was being pushed to the door, Ryan pressed against her body and his face so close his eyelashes could hit her with every blink. The two of them locked eyes, and Aurora could see the fire and the anger; she could see how cold and callus he had become in the years they hadn't talked. The monster before her both scared her and thrilled her-was this her old partner? The Ryan who had left her sleeping on the ground in Nepal?

No...this man was someone she had never met.

Then the threat faded, and the old Ryan came back, leaning forward and kissing her neck, making Aurora bite her lip hard and shiver while he stole back to the couch. Damn him. He knew just what to do to her to get her going. Not saying anything to Ryan, Aurora turned on her heels and walked to her room, taking the time to breathe and strap her new toy to her thigh. Grabbing a pillow and a blanket, Aurora walked back to Ryan and handed them to him, clenching the pillow tight and making eye contact.

"We've been partners way too long."

Ass, I couldn't put your life in danger even if I wanted to. You mean too much. Aurora let go of the pillow and turned on her heel, walking away. It was time for bed, both of them had been up way too long. Aurora folded back the covers and lay down, one hand on her knife, the other on her forehead. She closed her eyes and fell fast asleep...

Three hours later:

Thump. It was a noise so slight that any normal human being would have slept right through it. But Aurora, who lived the mercenaries life, knew to wake up at any sound that was out of the ordinary, any sound that didn't mesh with the sounds of her house. And that noise was definitely out of the ordinary.

In one smooth motion, Aurora was up and out of bed, her ballistic knife in hand. She was moving through the darkness of her house like a shadow herself, saying nothing and barely breathing. She knew who was here, and she was pissed. To say that she was seeing red was the understatement of the year. Murder was the furthest thing on her mind; Aurora wanted information.

She waited at her front door, arms folded with no emotion on her face. It was a ballsy move, to attack a mercenary through their territory. It was even gutsier to try and enter their front door. These men were either horribly untrained, or damn good at what they did. And as Aurora watched the knob turn with no sound, she assumed it was the latter. It was too bad that they had pissed off the wrong girl.

They had potential.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
North

Head down; thumbs up.
Sleep did not come easy for the monster. Not even with how tired his ravaged and broken body had been. He twisted on the couch; he felt the rainwaters of Borneo slipping down the walls; the crack and roll of Gaia in Nepal. There were no bugs to swat off; no branches to listen for. Just the sound of the woman down the hall breathing. He couldn't shake the restlessness and watched the digital clock in the corner tick by; hour after hour. All he thought of was the blood on his hands, the bodies at the docks, the blood-stains at the bar and his Mission from his Mentor. It was during this half-awake state he had his Arcadian Dream, saw the Mansion play out in his mind, and knew how to get there. But that was all. It didn't help that he'd been rolling around for two and a half hours.

With practiced sleuth, Knox slipped out of the covers he'd wrapped himself in and tip-toed through the apartment. Heel, toe. Heel, toe. Her door was shut. He clicked on his flashlight; it only took him a few moments to put on socks lace his boots back up; throw on a black hoody thrown over a chair and fish a jacket out of her closet. Only one looked his size; and it happened to be leather. Thank God; at least it'd keep some of the cold out. Layered up, he let his light wash over the counter. It wove over her cigarettes; that's what he was after. He smelled that smoke on her, and he needed one. He took one out of the pack, grabbed the lighter, and, with cunning quiet, stole out the front door, letting it shut softly behind him.

Outside, it wasn't much more comforting. Not so cold now that he had some clothes on, but it was still uncomfortable. The odd streetlight was on here and there, every so often a car lazily rolled on by. The world went on without him. He didn't even know what day it was and there were people dying, living. Having babies and getting married; facing hard times and great victories. He turned up his collar, licked his lips, put his hands together over the end of the cigarette and flicked the lighter. It snapped out. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. He groaned. He retreated into an alley, out of the wind; once, it lit up; and he could hear the crackle and burn of those first few tobacco leaves igniting into a splendid fire. He slipped the lighter into his pocket and let the smoke curl dark in his mouth; wait, and inhale.

The sick taste of it heavy in his lungs; soothing. He didn't exhale for a time after that; he just started walking on down the road. Kicking at pebbles, watching cars float on. Another drag and another sigh of relief. He watched the smoke twist into the frigid night air. So why Japan? He didn't know; part of him didn't care. He toyed with the weight of the hidden blade on his wrist. Toyed with the movements of his arm; how much he could snap a motion before it fired off instantly. Fingers back at all times; no fists. It would definitely take some getting used to. He didn't even know he'd smoked his cigarette to the filter until it burnt his fingertips; the glowing orange butt smashing into the ground. He exhaled a plume, rubbed his hands together, and started back towards the apartment. No questions answered. Just more raised.

It was coming up the stairs in the dark, that he tripped over his feet with a dull Thump. He cursed himself silently; and his stubbed toe. It took everything he had to concentrate on walking back in without waking her. Sneaking up to the door, stepping softly, and then, with a hand on the doorknob, turning it so slowly that the latch doesn't disengage immediately; quiet that the untrained ear wouldn't have heard.
He should have known better.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Maria
Member Avatar
Wrong...in all the right ways.
The door started to open and Aurora's knife was at the ready, her body tense and poised for action. She didn't move, didn't breathe until the door opened fully, a figure stepping through. Her body sprang into action, her knife at their throat, fire in her eyes. She was poised to kill, more than ready to take care of her business and teach each and every one of the men who were after her a lesson their boss would never forget.

Here was the quick sound of metal while the body didn't move. But you could hear the cold smirk. The malice; the vivacious vindication of spilt blood and storms vexed. There was a moment of dark silence; a long and dangerous pause, before the figure in her door spoke. "You'd best get that knife off my throat 'fore somethin' bad happen to you."

"Damnit Ryan..." Aurora muttered, yanking her knife away from his throat. She took a deep breath and felt his knife press harder against her ribcage. She closed her eyes for a moment and placed her hands on her hips, glaring. The silence was long and dangerous, tense with anger and the knowledge that both of them were trained to kill. Slowly, Aurora spoke. "What the hell were you doing outside?"

"I was smokin' a goddamn cigarette, Mom. I haven't had one in thirty-seven days. I was due. What the Hell're you doing creeping around with a knife? It's way past your bedtime."

Aurora growled and turned her head turning around and walking away. "I heard a noise. You should know how I react when I hear noises...after all, you trained me." She sat on the arm of the sofa and leaned over, snatching her carton of cigarettes and lighting one. A deep drag, and her body relaxed with the lethal cloud, the end lighting up like a firework. Aurora exhaled slowly, speaking as she clouded the air. "What...couldn't sleep?" Her voice was soft; the closest thing he would get to an apology.

"You know me. I never sleep. Especially not when women are involved." Crass, but he took the cigarette from her hands and took two, slow drags before handing it back to her. If he'd have known it was a smoking apartment, he'd not have gone outside in the first place.

She smirked, watching Ryan take two drags of her relaxant. She was too used to the snapping and the callus remarks. "Yeah...I know." The moment was peaceful, quiet. It was rare that the two of them would let the silence admit that they were comfortable around each other, but this was one of those rare moments. She looked at Ryan, her eyes tired but her body fully awake. "Ryan..." And it was in that moment that any and all peacefulness was shattered by the sound of breaking glass, Aurora growling and feet crunching in the glass.

The sound of it all crashing down; and everything slowed. Calm heads make good decisions. Stay the course and shut out everything else. All the words he had filled her head with were coming back to haunt his conscious mind; and he identified sounds. Glass in the bedroom; the men just touching down in the living room and the rattle of the doorhandle behind them. His gun was in his hand as he darted to the bedroom, calling out behind him only one command; "Go." - Because, she'd remember the game they used to play. The game of who was a better killer. She'd remember sitting outside enemy camps and waiting for his signal; like a gunshot; and he went off.

Aurora smirked wildly, snapping her knife out and ran forward, taking no time and no prisoners. She dodged a fist and slashed her knife right under the mans ribs, causing a scream and the mans partner running towards her. Alright...now what? She growled, pointing her knife and pressing the button, watching the knife shoot through the mans throat and into her couch. "Damnit! I actually liked that couch!" She turned her body towards the last man in the living room and immediately ducked, shoulder tackling him and knocking the gun out of his hands. Straddling his chest and pinning his hands to the ground with her knees, Aurora pressed her fingers to the pressure point in his neck, stilling him. She wanted information, and she wanted it now. "Who the hell are you working for?"

Things were all well and good until he broke the threshold of the doorway in the dark. He saw something move and he wasted no time putting a bullet in a brainpan. The loud bang sounded out from Aurora's room as crimson splashed over the walls, the bed, the carpet. The body slumped to the ground, and all was right with the world; but he heard breathing. When he turned to look, that's when it happened - an in an instant he was on the floor; right cheek hot from the sting. What had he just been hit with? It didn't matter; fall down, stand up. Ignore the kick in the ribs. The stomp to the nose. Grab the ankle; and the blade bit; pierced right through the soft flesh of the muscle and his opponent backed off. In that moment, he stood; and, looking through one stinging, glassy-filled eye he sent a cross; he sent a man back into the wall; and he really wanted to try that blade out again. He punched up into the man's jaw; and the blade didn't fire. So he shot him, instead. Right after the gun fired, the blade did, too. Maybe it wasn't so perfect, after all? Regardless; he knew he had to survive. He heard only shouting nearby; she was safe. He looted the bodies. Yen, cell phone, and....oh, hello. American Revolver. Anaconda .44. S&W. Hello, gorgeous. He traded with the corpse, said thank you, and walked back into the living room, to watch the scenes unfold, with Aurora and her mark.

Now, it had been only three hours. And unless she just had friends over at odd times of the night, they were out to kill her. Trouble in paradise? but for what, exactly? If it had even a single thing to do with the blade around his wrist....if it were even hinted at...if she'd put him in danger, pawned him, played him...He was out. So he folded his arms, stuck to the shadows, and watched her on top of the Merc she'd pinned. He'd taught her to extract. Let's see what she remembered.

Aurora didn't even notice that Ryan was there, she was completely absorbed in trying to figure out where the man who was trying to kill her was. Calm, cool and calculated was the scene, the man spitting and cursing, trying to wiggle his way out of the hold Aurora had on him, while she asked questions quietly, forcing him to listen. She had gotten her knife back together, and it was clenched in her hand, ready to be used at any minute. She leaned low to the man, all but whispering her question. "Where is he?" The man growled and spit in her face, making her lean back and slam his head into the ground, growling over his anguished scream.

"Where. Is. He?" The man spit and screamed, swearing how he would never tell anything to a dumb broad. Aurora sat back and rolled her eyes, whipping out her double edged pocket knife and pressing it to his throat. Suddenly he became silent, and Aurora smirked. "Now. Tell me who you're working for." The man stammered for a minute, gulped and felt the edge press a little harder into his throat, and suddenly he was singing like a bird.

"His name is Thomas. Thomas Frazier, and he wants whatever you took from him." Aurora narrowed her eyes and picked up the guys head, slamming it into the ground once more. "Ah! He said he wanted the blade back! He wanted you dead and his blade back." She frowned. That didn't make any sense. He had jewels and maps of all kinds in that bag, why did he want the blade back?

"What else did he say?" She muttered, her voice dangerously quiet. The man stammered for a minute, so Aurora began to cut into his throat, until he begged and screamed for mercy.

"Please! Okay, look, he said something about a note in a buckle. He didn't really care about the blade, just wanted the damn note. I-I don't know what it said, but...please don't kill me."

Aurora glared and asked one last question. "Where is he?" The man's panicked breaths came faster and faster, the words spilling out of his mouth.

"Mt. Hayaku! His house is built on the side of Mt. Hayaku!" Aurora smirked coldly, tipping her head to the side. "Thank you." And with those final words, she sliced his throat, ignoring the warm blood that splashed on her chest. She had a man to go visit tonight...

A man she would visit alone. Knox had no time for games. The Mercenaries wanted her dead, and the blade back. Back. That meant, she took it. She took it from them, and gave it to him; and they wanted her dead for it. For his new weapon. How could she? He had left her in Nepal to save her; and now she tried to shove off her problems on his broad shoulders the night after he arrived. Maybe she was just as dark and callous as he was now; Maybe he had taught her all too well. No strings attached. Wasn't that his motto? And this blade had finally cut that cord. His teeth ground in his mouth. Three pounds of leather and metal would be their dividing factor. So be it. Without a word, Knox stepped around the bleeding body on the floor, opened the door, and slammed it behind him. He put his hood up. Sighed. One more bridge, burnt. He hated Japan already.

Aurora looked up as soon as Ryan stepped over the body, and started to panic. He was leaving. She looked over and saw that he had neglected to grab his bag, so she grabbed it for him, running out after him and calling his name. "Ryan wait!" She caught up to him and followed him step by step, not willing to be left behind. "Ryan, wait. Please just listen for a minute. I never meant for you to be dragged into this. I didn't know that they would be coming back for the blade when I took it, you have to believe me. Hell, they aren't even coming back for the blade, they want some note that's inside of it. How was I supposed to know that they were going to come back? Please Ryan..." The fact that he was making no noise was scaring her, so she reached out and made physical contact, her hand on his arm. The moment she did it, she knew she had touched a ticking bomb. "You have no where else to go. Please come back inside Ryan...just listen."
Edited by Maria, Dec 5 2010, 03:40 PM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
North

Tick. Tick. Tick.
Light footsteps had him stomping down the sidewalk before she even burst through the main hall. His body-count was rising and he hasn't spent six hours in Japan. Unlucky, was the term; like a magnet for all things wrong and vile and corrupt in the world. They say your aura, what you put out into the cosmos, is what you receive; so he must have been in a downward spiral. Maybe it was all coincidence. The blade on his wrist had a note on it? He didn't care. Fuck it; Fuck the situation, Grim, Marla, Fight club; fuck it all. His breathing was in short puffs. He wasn't thinking straight; calm, cool and collected on the outside; controlled, like the clever monster he was, but on the inside, his mind, spirit, and soul waged war; vexed like the sea during a storm. His eyes betrayed nothing; just the fading fire within; like the lights on the titanic, down into the ocean. Further, and further. Down like the blood in the drain; down like his life through the toilet.

"Ryan, wait!"

He didn't stop. He thrust his hands into his pockets. Two men were dead. He'd put bullets in their bodies. He had the marks on his face and powder burns on his hands to prove it. He sniffled; it was growing colder; or maybe it was just his temper. He heard her footsteps behind him and still he walked. There was no major motion picture movement about this. He was an asshole who needed help; just for a night and he almost died; died because of what she did. But was she truly in the wrong? He couldn't know, for sure; but then again, he wasn't thinking clearly. His mind wandered to the rubble of Nepal; where they had hid out. That last look over his shoulder as she slept; and how sorry he was for it all. But this...

"I never meant for you to be dragged into this...I didn't know...Please, Ryan..."

The leather collar turned up against the hood. He kept his eyes down on the road. Where could he go? He couldn't call Grim again; he wouldn't. There was no safehouse for jerks. What did that leave? Soup Kitchen? Homeless shelter? No; he was too proud for that; too vain. Tick, Tick, Tick. He ignored her. He only did that when he was red-hot, and she knew it. It was him walking out on her again, but this time, it was because he wanted to. She wanted to handle this on her own, but he was a bystander in an unfortunate series of events; that much, he understood. At least in part; but it was still blood on his hands because of the blade on his wrist. What was he supposed to think? He couldn't apologize and right now he couldn't understand; couldn't see her side. However much he wanted to; however much he wanted back in that warm bed, to lay his head down. He couldn't. Maybe it was a twisted form of Pride, or maybe it was just her partner, being a stubborn bastard again. Was he wrong, for leaving? For not listening? Or was he protecting himself from a dangerous situation? His eyes narrowed; and that's when he felt it.
Tick, Tick, Tick...
"You have no where else to go. Please come back inside Ryan...just listen."

She was right. It was logic or Pride. It was death on the streets or death in his sleep.
I feel it deep within; It's just beneath the skin; I must confess, that I feel like a....

Her emotions got the better of her. He had her by the wrist and up on that wall before she could take a breath, and once again, was in her face. But this time, he wasn't whispering; he was shouting. There was a dark fire in those eyes that punctuated every word, every syllable, as he ripped her a new one. His fist pounded the wall; he talked of being roped into things that weren't his fight. He spoke of not being able to trust her; spoke of her pawning her troubles off on him. How he had trained her to know not to leave a trail; that she should have known better than to rest with people on her trail. His teeth were barred, his voice was stern, and he was every bit the dark bastard she used to roll with. She had seen him before treat other marks and rival hunters this way before. But never, before, had she been on the other end. And it never seemed this...intense.
Because he never Cared about any of them...
His fist pounded again; and he held her at the wall. It was dangerous; especially with that blade flying out, inches from her ear.
"Can't Fucking Believe this. This is Bullshit, Jones. You were supposed to be better than this! God Fucking Damnit! I'm better off on my own than waiting to get tracked down and murdered by whatever you just dropped on my head! I've Never had anywhere to stay; Why should Japan be any different! Why should seven years of searching have changed Anything?!" He sighed; he was off topic. He lowered his voice.
"Listen. Just stay the fuck away from me, until you get your shit straightened out. You're going to get us both killed."

The blade slid back into it's sheath. He let her go; and he let it all go. He needed time away. To think; and he continued walking on down the road. It didn't matter where he went, because where he came from was of no consequence. All he had gained meant nothing in Japan. Just another battle; another set of trials; and now, no ally.
Monsters, are real. They live inside us. And sometimes, they win.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Maria
Member Avatar
Wrong...in all the right ways.
Boom. She was against the wall and she was being yelled at, the words passing though her like the fire she harbored. She had never seen his eyes like this, had never seen him so angry at her. She didn't even hear the words he was yelling at her, but he did see the look in his eye. That disappointed, hurt look that he was giving her. She had never seen that look from him before, had never seen him so passionate about something. The bag dropped from her hands, her eyes widened, and something in her broke.

Shink The blade soared past her ear, and her head yanked towards the side. She was breathing heavily, for the first time truly frightened in his presence. When he let her go with the command to leave him alone, she just whispered how sorry she was. She was scared and her chest hurt so bad she didn't know what to do. Her entire body was hot, flush with emotion that she couldn't even name. Aurora had to get out of here before she did something stupid like cry. Turning on her heel and running towards her door, she felt the first tear fall down.

Why was she crying? Was it the look on Ryan's face as he told her that she was a fuck up? Or was it something much more elementary? Was it the fact that he was walking out again; and she was scared she wouldn't see him for another two years? Whatever the reason, it really didn't matter, she was out of there now, and though she took a moment to lean against her door and let the tears run down her face, she shoved them back and put on her poker face. She didn't have time for this, business had to be taken care of.

Emotions always getting in the way...

She grabbed her black cloak and slipped it on, her knives strapped to her wrists. With one last look at the bodies she was going to have to dump and the blood she was going to have to clean up, Aurora locked her door behind her and slipped out into the night, going to clean up her mess. This fat bastard tore her away from the only person she could trust...she was going to make the last moments of his life hell.

"Be careful when you fight monsters, lest you become one."
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
« Previous Topic · Season 3 Archive · Next Topic »
Add Reply

Seishun Line collaboration by .Danilo / .sionthede / Leda of Zathyus Networks Resources.