I have decided to be a little more thorough with my NPC tracker, since my posts seem to be frequently referencing dead beasts.
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Most Recent Posts
February deserves more days and less time. Let’s steal from June, I say. June doesn’t need 30. Let’s make both 29, and add only half a day on leap years; but then let’s also alternate leap years to a two year gap instead of four. We can then alternate June/February Leap Days. I just feel this would work better.
Fix’d
The morning had been a blur. Mostly because last night never ended. The city didn't sleep so much as wake up over and over again in a confused blend of time and sensation, never truly knowing when consciousness stopped and new awareness began. Last night was distinct, tangible, definite, and firmly recorded in her memory; There had been a party, a few of her contacts had invited her to it. She knew they were trying to score. She hadn't wanted to go. She walked the streets instead. The solitude was comforting. It was the solitude of someone walking alone in a place filled to the brim with overflowing life and people, edged with danger and the promise of promiscuity and whispered taboo. Compared to Gearbox and the Broken Lands, Sakanoshita was a veritable oasis of hedonism and feel-good attitude. Compared to life in the high Spires, it was a den of base pleasures, hidden fetish, and quiet money.
It was also the district most plagued by Yokai. Part of her trolled the streets praying she'd finally come face to face with one; come face to face with the fools instigating them; finally come face to face with Shingen again. Part of her prayed she'd finally be allowed to die. Part of her prayed she never encountered any of it. Part of her, still, was angry that she felt the need to pray to anything or anyone and wanted to see fire consume this entire district- and the rest of Neo Tokyo with it. It was gripped in this whirling internal philosophy that some foolish, brave, woman approached Butterfly. It had been subtle, but of course Butterfly noticed it; the turning head, the way her eyes followed Butterfly down the street, the way she turned and followed her in that hopeful light jog. Butterfly had shut her eyes and let herself wonder where this was going. Let herself stop in front of that ramen stall. Let herself run through Shingen's lessons;
She had walked quick. She had bumbled into someone in her haste. She was wearing tight clothes- not likely to be concealing any weapons, but there was a pistol open carried on her thigh. A thigh that was a smooth metal, elegant and modern, and fixated itself into Butterfly's mind. This woman was no threat, but for some reason she had not only seen Butterfly but also followed her. Right as the woman stepped behind her and opened her mouth to speak, Butterfly cut her off;
"Hungry? I'm starved. Hadn't realized how long it's been since I ate. My treat."
"--Yeah, sure, let's eat." She had responded, and Butterfly sat with her. For some reason, in all the blur of light and movement, this moment was like a rock blocking the flow of the river of time. Sitting with this woman, eating this food, learning her name was 'Kelly', learning that Kelly was a hostess; discerning that she meant 'thief' but was too smart to blab about it. Butterfly said she was a driver; Kelly discerned that meant so much more than what Butterfly had said, but didn't pry into it. They ate. They talked. Then, the blur continued. Kelly stayed at Butterfly's side. They walked. They talked. Butterfly's new awareness eclipsed last night's consciousness in the morning.
As she picked herself up out of Kelly's bed, her mind provided her with the information that she had found out just where the metal on Kelly's left leg ended and the flesh of her body began. As she slept, the NanoHive within her had purged the flow of chemicals she and Kelly had imbibed the night before. As Butterfly finally pulled her dark red leather jacket back on over her cropped, loose-fitting, top she sat back down on the edge of the bed and let her eyes wander over Kelly. She wondered what it was about the dyed-blonde hair, the cool metal leg, the calloused hands and the thin-bordering-on-starved woman that had wormed its way into her mind. She wondered what it was about the woman that had made her crave sensation and closeness. She wasn't a stranger to these things, far from it, but the companionship of this woman had hit a certain craving within Butterfly that she couldn't place. Not being able to place her feelings was a danger. Shingen had always told her...
Master yourself, Kemushi, before someone else masters you.
Her eyes flashed briefly, cycling to a deep neon green color. She licked her lips, then rose up silently from the bed. She left Kelly there, without another word and without any contact information. Just the stain of lipstick on her clothes to remember Butterfly by. She left, and the blur returned as she left behind that briefly visited island of stability. Morning turned to mid-day. Mid-day turned to evening. The cycle continued, but another rock of stability appeared in the blur...
@OwO
Butterfly stopped, her ankle-length skirt flowing around her metallic feet. She tilted her head upwards, her senses registering the sounds of some bullshit going down within the bar- but it hardly required her attention. The One-Eyed-Wolf was more than capable of dealing with any nonsense that came into her bar. Butterfly had learned that lesson well. She tilted her head upwards, her eyes zooming in unconsciously as they picked Cash's form out, dangling from the side of the building. A slow smile spread on her rough features. She clicked her tongue, her eyes returning to their normal settings, as she took a half step back, then performed a series of deft leaps. Her Leg Skimmers fired, blasting her upwards, then over, then off that wall, then into the air-
And suddenly Butterfly planted her metal feet heavily against the wall, hanging off the relay lightly by a hand. Her katana swung on the back of her hips but remained secure. She felt the familiar weight of the pistol holster on her thigh within the skirt, felt the shifting of her jacket, laden with knives and needles, felt the wind in her hair- tied in a loose but functional ponytail- as she soared.
Felt the rope in her hand.
"What am I worth to you right now?" She asked, smirking, as she tugged the rope several times to 'dangle' Cash in the air softly.
It was also the district most plagued by Yokai. Part of her trolled the streets praying she'd finally come face to face with one; come face to face with the fools instigating them; finally come face to face with Shingen again. Part of her prayed she'd finally be allowed to die. Part of her prayed she never encountered any of it. Part of her, still, was angry that she felt the need to pray to anything or anyone and wanted to see fire consume this entire district- and the rest of Neo Tokyo with it. It was gripped in this whirling internal philosophy that some foolish, brave, woman approached Butterfly. It had been subtle, but of course Butterfly noticed it; the turning head, the way her eyes followed Butterfly down the street, the way she turned and followed her in that hopeful light jog. Butterfly had shut her eyes and let herself wonder where this was going. Let herself stop in front of that ramen stall. Let herself run through Shingen's lessons;
She had walked quick. She had bumbled into someone in her haste. She was wearing tight clothes- not likely to be concealing any weapons, but there was a pistol open carried on her thigh. A thigh that was a smooth metal, elegant and modern, and fixated itself into Butterfly's mind. This woman was no threat, but for some reason she had not only seen Butterfly but also followed her. Right as the woman stepped behind her and opened her mouth to speak, Butterfly cut her off;
"Hungry? I'm starved. Hadn't realized how long it's been since I ate. My treat."
"--Yeah, sure, let's eat." She had responded, and Butterfly sat with her. For some reason, in all the blur of light and movement, this moment was like a rock blocking the flow of the river of time. Sitting with this woman, eating this food, learning her name was 'Kelly', learning that Kelly was a hostess; discerning that she meant 'thief' but was too smart to blab about it. Butterfly said she was a driver; Kelly discerned that meant so much more than what Butterfly had said, but didn't pry into it. They ate. They talked. Then, the blur continued. Kelly stayed at Butterfly's side. They walked. They talked. Butterfly's new awareness eclipsed last night's consciousness in the morning.
As she picked herself up out of Kelly's bed, her mind provided her with the information that she had found out just where the metal on Kelly's left leg ended and the flesh of her body began. As she slept, the NanoHive within her had purged the flow of chemicals she and Kelly had imbibed the night before. As Butterfly finally pulled her dark red leather jacket back on over her cropped, loose-fitting, top she sat back down on the edge of the bed and let her eyes wander over Kelly. She wondered what it was about the dyed-blonde hair, the cool metal leg, the calloused hands and the thin-bordering-on-starved woman that had wormed its way into her mind. She wondered what it was about the woman that had made her crave sensation and closeness. She wasn't a stranger to these things, far from it, but the companionship of this woman had hit a certain craving within Butterfly that she couldn't place. Not being able to place her feelings was a danger. Shingen had always told her...
Master yourself, Kemushi, before someone else masters you.
Her eyes flashed briefly, cycling to a deep neon green color. She licked her lips, then rose up silently from the bed. She left Kelly there, without another word and without any contact information. Just the stain of lipstick on her clothes to remember Butterfly by. She left, and the blur returned as she left behind that briefly visited island of stability. Morning turned to mid-day. Mid-day turned to evening. The cycle continued, but another rock of stability appeared in the blur...
@OwO
Butterfly stopped, her ankle-length skirt flowing around her metallic feet. She tilted her head upwards, her senses registering the sounds of some bullshit going down within the bar- but it hardly required her attention. The One-Eyed-Wolf was more than capable of dealing with any nonsense that came into her bar. Butterfly had learned that lesson well. She tilted her head upwards, her eyes zooming in unconsciously as they picked Cash's form out, dangling from the side of the building. A slow smile spread on her rough features. She clicked her tongue, her eyes returning to their normal settings, as she took a half step back, then performed a series of deft leaps. Her Leg Skimmers fired, blasting her upwards, then over, then off that wall, then into the air-
And suddenly Butterfly planted her metal feet heavily against the wall, hanging off the relay lightly by a hand. Her katana swung on the back of her hips but remained secure. She felt the familiar weight of the pistol holster on her thigh within the skirt, felt the shifting of her jacket, laden with knives and needles, felt the wind in her hair- tied in a loose but functional ponytail- as she soared.
Felt the rope in her hand.
"What am I worth to you right now?" She asked, smirking, as she tugged the rope several times to 'dangle' Cash in the air softly.
"Worry not." Ellis began to Bancroft. "Honesty and goodness tends to come out in folk, don't hold it against somebeast to be afraid." His words were soothing and quiet, and he spared a moment to look over Rigby's nicked ear. He clicked his tongue once, before letting out a low chortling laugh from deep within his chest.
"Aye, that little scratch'll do you good I be 'spectin'. Every lad gets scratched and bruised; few get to claim a genuine battle scar, eh Bancroft?" He was jovial as ever, even as his spines finally fell flat from the initial surprise. Swiftly enough, Marigold's deft leaps and graceful descent from the treetops warranted his attention- though only half of it. The other half was lost to the depths of memory.
"Iffen Tybalt were here, and could see mind you, he'd swear the ghost of Juniper just shot at us." He whispered, softly- so softly, it was clearly meant for himself.
But then Marigold is at their side, and Ellis swivels his head upwards and his gaze once again into the now.
"Jethro has good sense, he'll keep things as safe as can be. Rigby's a good lad, and Zaris is a little too keen on seeing danger in the shadows- the Abbey is in good hands, but we do be on the wrong side of 'er walls. We should be able to make the Gatehouse if we keep to the walls; such a creature as that shan't be risking limb to attack against their sides, methinks. Especially not if we have a sharp-eyed archer and a fierce mouse warrior amongst us!" He nods to Marigold, then to Bancroft, as if addressing equals.
"Keep that staff on hand, but do not be tense- keep your wits about you. A warrior with staff but no mind is a warrior disarmed. That goes for you as well, friend; skill with the bow but no sense of the self just leads to bleeding ears! I am Ellis of the Tap, Cellarhog of Redwall Abbey, to get introductions out of the way. Let us make haste, 'fore we're stuck hiding in the shrubbery! Tis Nameday, not a day for sniffing in the dirt!"
And just as quickly as Marigold appeared, Ellis was trundling off alongside the cover of the trees, moving in a lumbering but quiet gait.
"Aye, that little scratch'll do you good I be 'spectin'. Every lad gets scratched and bruised; few get to claim a genuine battle scar, eh Bancroft?" He was jovial as ever, even as his spines finally fell flat from the initial surprise. Swiftly enough, Marigold's deft leaps and graceful descent from the treetops warranted his attention- though only half of it. The other half was lost to the depths of memory.
"Iffen Tybalt were here, and could see mind you, he'd swear the ghost of Juniper just shot at us." He whispered, softly- so softly, it was clearly meant for himself.
But then Marigold is at their side, and Ellis swivels his head upwards and his gaze once again into the now.
"Jethro has good sense, he'll keep things as safe as can be. Rigby's a good lad, and Zaris is a little too keen on seeing danger in the shadows- the Abbey is in good hands, but we do be on the wrong side of 'er walls. We should be able to make the Gatehouse if we keep to the walls; such a creature as that shan't be risking limb to attack against their sides, methinks. Especially not if we have a sharp-eyed archer and a fierce mouse warrior amongst us!" He nods to Marigold, then to Bancroft, as if addressing equals.
"Keep that staff on hand, but do not be tense- keep your wits about you. A warrior with staff but no mind is a warrior disarmed. That goes for you as well, friend; skill with the bow but no sense of the self just leads to bleeding ears! I am Ellis of the Tap, Cellarhog of Redwall Abbey, to get introductions out of the way. Let us make haste, 'fore we're stuck hiding in the shrubbery! Tis Nameday, not a day for sniffing in the dirt!"
And just as quickly as Marigold appeared, Ellis was trundling off alongside the cover of the trees, moving in a lumbering but quiet gait.
Apologies, I got busier today than anticipated, I'll have it out tomorrow!
She just does the math, concludes that only one can be real, and punches that one.
I swear to all that is logical I will uppercut Jub.
The noble samurai deftly twirled aside, hail plinking in a quieting decrescendo off her armor as the storm subsided. In a languid movement, the sword was pulled across the bracer of her left arm and cleansed; then slowly sheathed. The samurai then marched directly astride the deceased creature and clapped her hands together loudly, bowing deeply over its corpse. She held this bow for a few long, precious, moments in silence until a voice seemed to shatter her reverie;
Hanabi rose from her bow and looked at the woman with an even expression; a calmness of practice. She silently appraised her and noted that she accompanied the spectral 'mon that assisted the fight, before letting a breath slip from her body. A tensed and held breath that needed to be refreshed.
"Miss, direct your statements. I killed it. Not the world. Not anyone else. If I had not struck it down myself, my orders would have been the ultimate cause; Gaze about, take in the archers there on the towers, and take upon your senses there the longspears and guards in preparation if it had managed to break past me. My orders, my intentions, my responsibility. The world is bad enough right now without undue negativity and harm being directed outward without target. If you must curse a name and a face, let it be mine; Hanabi Yasashi."
At that she turned about to address everyone present;
"I am Hanabi Yasashi! Lord under the Shogun! This was a catastrophe; a disgrace; but not wholly a circumstance of waste! You!" She points to Ryuji. "You fought well, and showed bravery. Whatever accusation you faced is henceforth dropped. That man is my guest; see to it that he is fed and treated with honor." She instructed towards the Captain, nodding to him in acknowledgement of his own words as she did so. "As for you-" She began to walk away from the Persian now, passing near to Sanzoku.
She reached for her belt, produced a coin purse, and threw it towards Sanzoku's chest without a second glance towards her.
"You're no Ronin or Samurai; coin will suffice, I'll not waste supplications on someone who doesn't want it. You have my thanks and respect for your actions."
That was all she spared for Sanzoku, seemingly intent on making her way to the captain to have a word with him. But, alas, she stopped mistride;
She whirled about, a sudden fury in her movements, as she approached William directly and stood face to face with him. Barring his movement back into the village.
"That girl acted in her faith and with her convictions; Just as you and I did. Who are you to say any of us are on the right path, which of us has the cleaner spirit? Your pokeball, my blade, her faith- all are tools and all could have solved this. If you are angry, be angry that the situation arose. Search yourself and blame that which is truly the cause for all our chaos, blame that which is the ultimate disruption of our peace in these lands."
She turned away from him and eyed the Captain now.
"Blame the war. Without it, this never would have happened."
And she marched away, stiff in movement now, the brief emotional confrontation fading away to a stern and professionally angry expression as she left the situation behind her.
"I want the names of the patrolmen from the night. I want to know why they didn't detect this creature. I want to know how we let this disaster reach our doorstep."
She began speaking to the Captain Muizuno from a conversational distance, but each word carried her forward until she was just on the edge of his personal space and speaking in an authoritative growl.
"You have my attention." She concluded. "I can spare as much time as you need."
Ajairu finally pressed into the group at this point, limping lightly as he timidly encroached through the throng and nudged Yasashi on her hip with his nose. This seemed to have an immediate calming effect on her, and she lifted a gloved hand and softly caressed through his fiery mane.
"Sorry, my friend, we will get you cared for soon."
“You…you killed it…”
Hanabi rose from her bow and looked at the woman with an even expression; a calmness of practice. She silently appraised her and noted that she accompanied the spectral 'mon that assisted the fight, before letting a breath slip from her body. A tensed and held breath that needed to be refreshed.
"Miss, direct your statements. I killed it. Not the world. Not anyone else. If I had not struck it down myself, my orders would have been the ultimate cause; Gaze about, take in the archers there on the towers, and take upon your senses there the longspears and guards in preparation if it had managed to break past me. My orders, my intentions, my responsibility. The world is bad enough right now without undue negativity and harm being directed outward without target. If you must curse a name and a face, let it be mine; Hanabi Yasashi."
At that she turned about to address everyone present;
"I am Hanabi Yasashi! Lord under the Shogun! This was a catastrophe; a disgrace; but not wholly a circumstance of waste! You!" She points to Ryuji. "You fought well, and showed bravery. Whatever accusation you faced is henceforth dropped. That man is my guest; see to it that he is fed and treated with honor." She instructed towards the Captain, nodding to him in acknowledgement of his own words as she did so. "As for you-" She began to walk away from the Persian now, passing near to Sanzoku.
She reached for her belt, produced a coin purse, and threw it towards Sanzoku's chest without a second glance towards her.
"You're no Ronin or Samurai; coin will suffice, I'll not waste supplications on someone who doesn't want it. You have my thanks and respect for your actions."
That was all she spared for Sanzoku, seemingly intent on making her way to the captain to have a word with him. But, alas, she stopped mistride;
"And you, I don't want to see your face around here anymore,"
She whirled about, a sudden fury in her movements, as she approached William directly and stood face to face with him. Barring his movement back into the village.
"That girl acted in her faith and with her convictions; Just as you and I did. Who are you to say any of us are on the right path, which of us has the cleaner spirit? Your pokeball, my blade, her faith- all are tools and all could have solved this. If you are angry, be angry that the situation arose. Search yourself and blame that which is truly the cause for all our chaos, blame that which is the ultimate disruption of our peace in these lands."
She turned away from him and eyed the Captain now.
"Blame the war. Without it, this never would have happened."
And she marched away, stiff in movement now, the brief emotional confrontation fading away to a stern and professionally angry expression as she left the situation behind her.
"I want the names of the patrolmen from the night. I want to know why they didn't detect this creature. I want to know how we let this disaster reach our doorstep."
She began speaking to the Captain Muizuno from a conversational distance, but each word carried her forward until she was just on the edge of his personal space and speaking in an authoritative growl.
"You have my attention." She concluded. "I can spare as much time as you need."
Ajairu finally pressed into the group at this point, limping lightly as he timidly encroached through the throng and nudged Yasashi on her hip with his nose. This seemed to have an immediate calming effect on her, and she lifted a gloved hand and softly caressed through his fiery mane.
"Sorry, my friend, we will get you cared for soon."
The sky split; hail falls; magic whirls in the air; cohesion shatters briefly. Moving with the shifting action, Hanabi's swift footwork brought her about to place herself before Shaakira and William as their antics brought the beast's ire upon them. In the same breath she took to shift herself defensively, she sensed a behemoth's movement at her back. Deftly stepping aside and bringing her blade low, she subtly transitioned into offense;
"Snow falls heavy on
A field bearing witness to
Folly and dread waste..."
Her words came smooth and quiet, but carrying over the din.
Sanzoku caught the Persian upon her crossguard and block; Hanabi didn't let the opportunity to strike pass her. The raging Persian crashed upon Sanzoku's own hulking mass with its fury, and before its full might could press upon the towering warrior the Lady Hanabi rose under Sanzoku's guard and leapt into the Persian, her sword arcing deftly in a crescent reminiscent of the waxing moon, the silvery blade rising in a sweeping arc as Hanabi twirled with the slice upwards beneath the Persian's head, slicing in a vicious Guillotine* blow as Sanzoku caught the creature's rush to a standstill.
"Snow falls heavy on
A field bearing witness to
Folly and dread waste..."
Her words came smooth and quiet, but carrying over the din.
Sanzoku caught the Persian upon her crossguard and block; Hanabi didn't let the opportunity to strike pass her. The raging Persian crashed upon Sanzoku's own hulking mass with its fury, and before its full might could press upon the towering warrior the Lady Hanabi rose under Sanzoku's guard and leapt into the Persian, her sword arcing deftly in a crescent reminiscent of the waxing moon, the silvery blade rising in a sweeping arc as Hanabi twirled with the slice upwards beneath the Persian's head, slicing in a vicious Guillotine* blow as Sanzoku caught the creature's rush to a standstill.
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