#sukaism

     The children of the orphanage had made it in safely, and that was all that mattered. The defense line being attacked was not an unexpected occurrence, though his own involvement in such a powerful line made him the weakest link. Shovel in hand, the very weight of the heavy steel, dangerously pointed, became an effective weapon against his enemies. Every blow reverberated through the object, and every wound from which blood sprayed left the cat in a very uneasy state of mind. Breathing heavy, he tried his best to focus on one attacker at a time --

     -- until an unidentifiable black object loomed above him, engulfing his vision and swallowing up any free space he had to escape. He’d seen what these creatures had done to people. If it touched him, he, too, would become infected with the beast’s destruction-- and would likely be killed because of it.

「 Being on your guard was a crucial part of being involved in a place with your opponents being mirror images of everyone you knew and didn’t. Imposters, fakes, every word you could find for it. Regardless of whether or not they were actual people with actual lives mattered not to a man with only self-survival on the brain.

If he was gonna live, then they would have to disappear at some point. Annoying, but no skin off his back.

This, naturally, meant that the best person he came upon with their guard down would promptly have an white-gloved arm wrapped their neck from behind, a younger boy being tugged backwards in time to hear the soft unclipping of a switchblade. 」

All good kids should be in bed by now, you know.

Do you want to make this shit easy for both of us, or are you gonna be a royal pain in my ass? My kind heart’s got a limit.

sukaism

A parallel universe invading another? A fight to the death? How ridiculous. Even for this city, it was beyond ridiculous. Yet- Gyokuen couldn’t help but to laugh. Sure, it might be the end of this world, but what did it matter? This was the first time since she arrived in this city that she felt black rukh so strongly. No- That was a bit mistaken. The entire city was filled to the brim. 

She breathed in deeply. It truly felt good to be on a battlefield again. How long had it been? Hundreds of years? Millenniums? As a warrior, she couldn’t help but feel her blood boil in excitement. There was nothing like a battlefield.

A battlefield where she could kill.

A battlefield of black and white.

She held her staff in one of her hands, feeling the familiar metal. Most of her powers had returned and it would be a shame not to put them to use.

But who to attack? Who to kill? Did it even matter? 

No. 

Probably not. 

She needn’t even fight in the first place. She could just sit back and watch the black rukh accumulate. If she was lucky a medium would appear. But that was oh so tired. 

She wanted to fight.

She wanted to kill.

Killing a few people would be fine? It wasn’t that much of a detour. I would certainly mean fewer obstacles later.

Yes. That reasoning was fine. That reasoning was enough. She would verify the extent to which her powers had returned. And then... she would try to revive her Father.

She scanned the horizon. There were plenty of people falling from the sky. Almost haphazardly, she picked out one that seemed somewhere between strong and weak.

                   But he was waiting. Waiting for a specific thing to appear. His gaze scanned the landscape below him, trying to catch a glimpse of honey-colored hair. But he’d seen nothing so far... not even a hint. It made Giotto frown, but he was patient. He’d wait for however long he needed to. Or, at least he thought, until another face came into the view of his hawk’s view. It made the Primo’s mouth curl downwards into a frown, forehead wrinkling. He hadn't expected to run into this individual, and definitely not looking like that. But chaos swam in the wake of the auburn-haired man’s footsteps, and Giotto couldn't allow this to continue. With a tilt of his body, the mafioso dove forward, ready to meet his adversary.

                   For a moment after Giotto’s feet touched the ground, he studied the other man before him, expression calm and cool. He’d never thought he’d have to fight this person, but he supposed he had no choice.

          ❝ Damn drones...yer all just sheep, well ya aren't gonna kill me! ❞ As soon as his sword had been given back to him, he hadn't taken to mowing down most of the drone militia sent by the other city. With his powers alone, he was able to take down a decent amount of them by himself all while defending the innocent civilians who were still in the process of evacuating or taking cover where ever they could. Blue flames surround him in a fierce glow which also overtakes the sword he wields, ears pointed and teeth sharper than a canine's are now apparent if one were to look at Rin Okumura. And the strangest part? No one ran from him, in fact, they were happy to receive help from him. It was a new feeling, but good all the while.

          Continuously slashing away at fodder became tedious after awhile and it's not until he sees someone struggling to hold their own against a horde of soldiers does he stop what he's doing and rush over to help them. ❝ Pesky bastards..tsk, ❞ a snap of his fingers and a hiss before he turns to face the person whom he had just saved. Eyebrows raise once they fall to the teardrop shaped tattoo on his face along with the intricate one adorning his neck. As much as he'd like to ask about it, he'd save it for later. ❝ Y'got a name? I kinda just saved yer ass, ❞ inserting his sword back into his sheath, the blue flames atop of his head begin to glow more faintly ❝ Name's Rin..Okumura Rin. Looks like ya find yerself a partner. Yer gonna need help killin' the soldiers, aren't you? They're crawlin' all over the streets-- ❞ and an explosion causes him to stop mid-sentence and turn to face where it had just come from.

Enma had been in the city a few days and he still hadn't been able to see the entire place. The district he was placed in, of course, was right under the ghetto. Not a place he found himself entirely unfamiliar with, sadly. Try as he might, it was hard to avoid the type of person that preyed on the timid.

Singled out, pushed down, and kicked around. Enma had to really wonder if there was a target painted on his forehead. Though it was within his power to, there was still a lot to be said about him and the fact that he did not attempt to fight back.

( oya? it appears your great knack for attracting misfortune has landed you in the worst possible place, sawada tsunayoshi. despite all evidence pointing towards how obvious it is that such an event should be considered commonplace, i cannot but help finding myself surprised. how is that it you ended up here? like some lost alice did you fall down a hole? )

     Navigation through the palace had taken years of exploring, remembering the corridors with repeated journeys through the space to locate certain rooms. Conquering such a large amount of area had been a challenge tackled by repetition and memorizing of routes, and although every route was beginning to fade from his memory the fact remained that this was how you understood an area.

     The city itself was larger than the castle he'd grown up in, and required quite an extra bit of exploration to figure out its map. He could only trust himself with walking, not yet brave enough to try using the transit system, and thus had a fair amount of Sector 2 understood thanks to his almost daily walking routes.

     He stood now in Sector 5. How he'd arrived here, he had no idea; what he thought was the correct path to Sector 1 had been quite the opposite one, and now he was climbing further and further into the unfamiliar sector so far from home. On top of that, it was nearing dinner time; his stomach was going to growl sooner or later.

     Heading every which way and backtracking and walking in circles led him nowhere but the direction of lost. What he needed was a map, or even directions out, but with everyone moving so quickly it was impossible to ask for anything. His head swiveled around in search of someone approachable, and eyes laid upon a boy looking just as lost and confused as he was.

     There was nothing particularly productive about consulting another lost citizen about being lost, but the connection that the two shared from this fact made talking to him sound like an excellent plan; in the very least, the two could enjoy each other's company, and two are always greater than one. With this in mind, he approached the other, standing dormant at a crosswalk with eyes pointed to the buildings above.