Derren Krenshaw

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

"Daisu...ke... hold. Do...not-"

"I will handle this. Boss." Daisuke shifted to fully face the enraged man who had come into the clearing, revolver half-raised now that Demidova had calmed him... but lowered not a hair more. In his current state, Souma's orders meant little compared to actually keeping him alive. He didn't want this man dead? As long as he didn't raise his weapon again, or impede their escape, that wouldn't be a problem. If he did? Daisuke wouldn't hesitate, and would accept the consequences of Souma's anger when he had recovered.

To see him recovered, would make any disobedience worth it.

"Culprits." Daisuke took his free hand from Souma's arm briefly, jutting it out to point at the cooling corpses nearby, eyes never breaking away from the blood spattered man before him. He held that position for a moment, then two, every motion slow, deliberate, cautious.

"Not with them? Then leave." Finally, he lowered his hand, pointing it instead at the injured Demidova before him. "Take yours, leave. I take mine, leave. No death."

Once more, he lowered his hand, moving it to pressure his Boss' arm yet again. His eyes, however, never wavered. If anything, they grew colder, glare bearing down on the other man, waiting for his decision. It didn't matter, right now, that there were more of the Demidova family about than just the Lady. It didn't matter, right now, what that implied, the danger it meant for Souma. There was danger enough, right now, without the Russian spies.

And they, at least, were a danger that could be dealt with another day.

"Agree, no death. Disagree... She's first." Souma twitched at the words, but Daisuke ignored any protest from his Boss. His life was the important one here, no matter what he said or thought... and his Fist would make sure everyone in the clearing knew that.

"Understood?"

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Daisuke knew where Souma had to be.

After finally returning home, his Boss would have made his way to the furthest gardens as soon as he was done with his familial duties. It was the one space he had designed himself, turned into a refuge within the compound, a place where one could go whenever the need for peaceful solitude arose. How many times had Souma seemed confounded by some challenge before him, only to return from that little garden later, solution in hand? How many times had he been nowhere to be found? Daisuke or Goemon finally tracking him down in that remote corner, sitting calmly beside the statue of his grandfather.

He would have gone there, far from where the attackers started. He wouldn't have heard anything amiss at first, and when the warnings came, he would be separated, alone against an unknown number of deadly assailants.

Souma could handle such odds. But that didn't matter. A fist belonged at the side of the one who would throw it, and nowhere else.

The sounds of struggle rang out as Daisuke slipped out from the latest building to serve as shelter, a sudden cry shouted down by a gun's great roar. High-pitched, familiar... but not Ai. It wasn't important then, the sound was slightly behind him, and to investigate would keep him from finding his boss.

So he pressed forwards, moving swiftly along the walkways and through the gardens, an imposing specter. Feet made little sound whether they came down against wood, earth or stone, taking him down paths far from view of the center compound. Most of the battle seemed concentrated there, now, and it seemed his only company right now were corpses.

A poor omen. He ignored it.

The garden was close, Daisuke dashing to the small clearing with gun and blade drawn, only to freeze stone-still as soon as it came into view. A woman lay bleeding, one hand holding a blade, the other reaching for Souma's own, injured form.

The woman was Galina Demidova.

His grip on both weapons tightened, but Daisuke made no move at first. He couldn't, not with the woman armed so close to his boss. A bullet could move faster than her hand, but it could strike Souma as well... and she would have ample time to move should he try for the safer slash of his blade. Absently, his gaze noted a pair of bodies wearing the same outfits as those he had come across, and Souma's dagger in one of their necks.

Galina and Souma fought them off? But the Demidova's were to stay away from Takahiro business. Her presence here was the height of peril for his Boss, a danger that would be unforgivable to let pass.

But to kill one who had helped defend his Boss was likewise unforgivable. And to risk Souma's life in the process? 'Unforgivable' couldn't begin to describe.

"Boss." Daisuke's voice resounded calmly through the clearing, the man sheathing his blade with deliberate caution as he stepped slowly towards the pair. He needed something, a reaction, an order from Souma, anything to tell him how to act next. "Boss. If you're alive, speak."

~-~

"Should... pressure self."

It was poor English even by Souma's standards, but he was willing to let it pass for now.

No, he didn't believe Galina would hurt him. At this point, he wasn't sure he believed she had ever tried to hurt him, despite her actions in his own country. And to help him while her own wounds still bled? It was the height of foolishness that stabbed at Souma's pride... yet he couldn't help but feel comforted by it, all the same.

He was willing to let that pass for now, as well. No one would know it happened, after all.

Dimly, he noticed Daisuke behind Galina, heard what had to be his Fist's voice calling out to him. Of course, even with the entire compound likely under attack, he would make it here. A far safer refuge than any central structure within the compound, it seemed... even if he did still have a foot in the grave.

"...Lax... Fist." It wasn't much, but Daisuke got the message, Souma nodding slightly to Galina as the larger man moved closer. Hopefully she would understand, would have to understand. No one would need pressure on their wounds if she did not.

"Help... both... wounds... gun... bind..." Was he blinking more than usual? Was that why his vision kept flashing dark? Hard to tell, but Daisuke seemed to understand. The man moved calmly to Souma's side, kneeling just behind his Boss with gun lowered, but still ready. With a quiet look to Galina, he moved his free hand slowly, taking her place in pressuring his Boss' arm... up until something else caught his attention.

"... Daisu...ke-"

"Hold, Boss." Daisuke never bothered to use english, his voice falling cold as his eyes narrowed towards the distance.

"Someone approaches."

On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

There was something to be said about Alexi's choice in bodyguard, after all.

Not that your more typical, gruff and battle-scarred mercenary male couldn't have found a way to calm the panicked scribe. Not that a small squad of said 'typical' guards might have been able to deal with these attackers more effectively. Surely any mercenary or group of mercenaries worth their gold would have been able to do something, much like Katherine... but that didn't stop Alexi from quietly thanking the calloused -yet still feminine- touch on his hand, or her quiet voice in his ear.

Talk. Right. Her words managed to spur some rational part of his roiling mind into focus, an anchor that he might, possibly, be able to pull himself around. Talk. He could do that, though he was better at writing...

... hold on.

Florie. According to Katherine, the 'Martin' before them was enamored with the rather enamor-able innkeep. Katherine herself was on good terms with Florie as well, wasn't she... enough that this Martin seemed cautious enough to talk first? His band certainly wasn't doing more than waiting right now, though if he made the wrong move, said the wrong thing, that would likely change very, very, very-

No. No. Stay calm. Breathe, breathing was good, breathing and thinking. Martin wanted papers, Martin wanted Florie. Someone had hired Martin to take the papers, but he didn't care about details. He was in it for gold. Greedy, greedy and lustful.

Could he work with that?

A minstrel at the Locust, a good Inn to work for, certainly, but obviously not good enough if he and his own worked as bandits on the side. Money was tough -he didn't know how much these men had been offered- but... Could he offer something else? Alexi really, really didn't want to involve himself in politics again... but he also really, really didn't want to die, or fail this commission.

The second option actually seemed the worse to him right now. And absurd or not, that notion helped him calm enough to feel he might be able to speak.

"That-... There are people who need these papers." Alexi forced himself to sit straighter upon his saddle, meeting Martin's eye and hoping he wouldn't be shot immediately for his response. The fact that they knew Katherine -and she knew them- seemed to keep them from acting right away, a small blessing that the scribe couldn't help but take hope from. "A town of them. I can't just-.... their needs outweigh my own."

Okay, now, before the arrows come.

"But I could offer a different sort of papers, if you are interested... Mr. Martin?" Calm, calmer now, at least. Buisness, he could talk buisness, even if it was in a somewhat more deadly setting than usual. "I heard you play at the Locust, and imagine you and your troupe could put on quite the show..." He dared a quick glance around at those assembled. They weren't musical instruments in their hands, but he didn't doubt they could make those weapons sing just as well. "...'Quite a show' is what Lord Stanhope has been looking for for some time... I don't suppose a letter of introduction and recommendation would be worth something to you?"

That was the best he could think of to offer right now, short of throwing what gold he had at their feet. Though if he could just open negotiations, that might be good by itself? In that case, would it be worth the risk to push, just a little more?

"You remember his son, Katherine? The one who saw us off?" He lowered his voice somewhat as he turned to his escort, but certainly didn't try to keep the others from hearing. He needed a second voice in assent, if only to connect them to people of power in Martin's eyes. He could try hiding behind the church again, but they would never hire outside their own, small circle. Lord Stanhope would -If Alexi offered to be in his debt- but he could also make life hard for someone who called the Locust home, if he had to. He could hide behind that, then, right?

The Last Kings of Orion

No worries at all Lillian : )

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

No worries at all, I'll wait for you : )

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

I can certainly have Daisuke come in first- Did you want to post anything with Yury or Galina beforehand? Or should I just get a post up for Daisuke next?

I probably won't have a post for him done until tuesday, either way.

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

Kneeling, currently, just out of reach while talking and trying to bandage his arm. He hasn't really moved much... not sure he's in a condition to move much XD

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/japan.html#mirror

I linked the full story in the IC, but that has an overview of 'The Mirror of Matsuyama' for a quick understanding of the story. (I had started writing out more of it in the post... but realized I was going to end up with waaaaay too many paragraphs covering just that, so hope it works as it is now)

Hope the post works, I'll be back in full swing tuesday evening : )

Masques and Daggers (Derren Krenshaw & Igraine)

As Galina talked, Souma somehow managed to move his uninjured arm, pulling the obi from where it secured his robe and instead wrapping it tightly about his bleeding wound. It was a difficult task, one-handed, but it was something for his hand to do, something to try and preserve his life. He went through the motions unfocused, mechanically. As if the act -no matter how important- wasn't actually worth paying attention to.

Of course, compared to what the Russian woman before him was saying... it wasn't.

It all, everything, made sense now. Aspects of Goemon's task to entice Galina aboard the Empress, ones which seemed a little easier than expected of such a family. Her willingness -desire, even?- to simply talk earlier today... and her surrender only moments ago. It was... silly, in a way. Yet at the same time so very... Impressive.

She had wanted to get back at him, show him how he had made her feel, before. Yes, she had said those very words earlier, but now they made sense. Where Souma had been thinking in terms of competition, of a quiet war, she simply wanted him to understand. She had done so much to ingratiate herself to his own family for that, single task. And it had gone so horribly wrong.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all, mirth choking weak and wheezing from paling lips. She had learned so much, but not enough. Not enough to realize what she wanted couldn't happen- not the way she had planned it all. No one dead, no blood spilled, but Souma didn't have a choice. Had she realized that, when she threw her weapons down? Or was that still something else?

"Story? Know... some." Souma didn't bother talking about the name she told him, or of her brother Yury. As it was now, with his family under attack and him in real danger of bleeding out, such concerns seemed far removed. But a story? Yes. Stories were easy, requiring only words, with no need to hasten the pace. He could tell stories until his breath gave out. He might as well. There wasn't much else to do.

"The, Mirror of Matsuyama..." Souma's eyes closed, the tale pictured clearly in his mind as he spoke, voice lapping gently as waves upon the shores. "They say, long ago in remote area of Japan... there was man and his wife, who found blessed with baby daughter..."

It was a tale he knew well, words drifting easily from his lips as the scene played itself over again in his mind. A tale of loving parents and loving children, of a treasure passed from mother to daughter, one that only enforced the bonds of filial care. Even if the family changes, even if a shadow seems to cloud the relationship of parent and child, it is only in passing. A family will always return together, even if not the same as before, the love and care will remain.

Souma believed that to be true, with all his heart. And so he told the story he had so loved to hear as a child, and quietly wondered if Galina might see the same thing he once had... if it wasn't already too late.

On Winding Roads (Lillian & Derren )

Not good, not fine, not at all...

Why him?

Alexi shrank shivering upon the saddle of his horse, hands clutching desperately to the reigns as if he might snap his mount to a gallop at any instant. He should do just that, actually. Just go, just flee. He knew the maps in his mind's eye, he knew roughly where he should be now. It wouldn't be hard, right? Find a fork and take it, lose these thugs amidst winding paths. He could get out of it in the end, probably.

As long as they didn't have anyone else waiting for him.

That thought wasn't helping, the scribe staring wide-eyed and jittery at those who had him and Katherine surrounded. A lot- too many, how was one person supposed to deal with this many? She could fight, he'd seen that, but that was against a few.

So what should they do? Give over his papers? He needed them! Avantshire needed them! Even if people believed he was robbed -not a tall tale- what reputation would he have afterwards? If he couldn't complete tasks like this, who would call on him for anything of import? He wouldn't be able to travel- he'd likely have to ask to join the church fully, becoming a scribe of the lord to waste his sight away with no chance of changing his fortune.

Not the worst outcome... really... but still...

"W-what do you people even want with these!?" His voice was shaking, rising. Not a good sign, but he was having trouble controlling much of anything right now. Eyes darted about the gathered assailants, looking for anything like a whole he could spur his mount through. Katherine had said 'run' before, could he still do that? And make it do Avantshire?

He risked a panicked glance over to his escort. This was a situation she should be able to deal with, one way or another, right? What did she plan on doing? What did she want him to do?