Psyker Landshark

SPIRITUM

Kalina Kovalic

Seemed the rest had deal with the remaining fauna. Good. And that Ivan was awake and speaking. Less good. Kalina narrowed her eyes as Ivan prattled on, more irritated than usual.

"He runs weapons and black market trade for my father's crew. Poorly." She said simply in response to Val before walking up to the man in question, slugging him in the face.

"Augh! Motherfucker!" Ivan cried out as he was knocked to the ground, paleing as he looked up.

"Ivan Vorokov." Kalina drew her sidearm, flicking the safety off before pointing it in his face. "One: what are you doing here? Two: give me a reason not to kill you. I've been telling Dad you're more trouble than you're worth."

"Woah, shit! Hey, easy! Easy!" Ivan screamed, holding his hands up in alarm. "I'm running shit for your dad! I don't get this stuff to him, the Marauders are fucked!"

Kalina was never the best at reading people. Less charitably, she was downright terrible at it. But...

"Kalina, my daughter. You see shitheel, Ivan? Never trust word that comes out his asshole mouth." Her father's last bit of advice about Ivan ran through her head. A glance at the fallen crates around reinforced that. She narrowed her eyes and shifted her aim to Ivan's left knee.

BANG.

"GUUUUAAAAGH! YOU BITCH!" Ivan screeched shrilly, clutching at his left kneecap.

"I left you the leg that can work a gas pedal. Now try again. About the only materiel I see here that could be mission-critical would be the plastic explosive. And that's a stretch. Or, if you don't feel like telling the truth, give us something out of your own pocket. I know you're good for it." Just then, a thought came to her head, unbidden. Ah, right. The other reason she was so angry with Ivan.

"Remember all those care packages from Dad you brought? The ones that coincidentally had things missing that were already mentioned in the letters he put in? You owe me."

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Salvator Rasch

Was the goddamned Invictoid trying to get him shot? Judging by the look it had shot him after all but inviting the team to try to supplant him, yes. Not that he even wanted the job, but no one else had stepped up, and someone had to establish chain of command.

"For the record, if any of you proves you can do a better job, I'll gladly hand over command. So don't feel like you have to frag me for it."

___

They were off to a bad start with the other team, it seemed. Was it too much to hope for professionalism, for once? Salvator resisted the urge to snap back, instead giving his armament a brief once over as he replied in a conversational tone.

"Just be glad we'll be the ones stuck in that hellhole checking every corner, and not you and yours. Not looking forward to it, myself." He'd kept the heavy biomechanical shotgun he'd looted from the previous mission. Considering they'd be in very close quarters, its firepower would be useful. Although...

A quick march over towards a workbench had Salvator lay the shotgun on top, starting to cut the barrel down a few inches with the tools available. As it was, the length would be too cumbersome.

"You got a name? Designation? Callsign? Or should we stick to calling you 'support'?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

"Arton, control yourself. The time for opinions can wait." Izayoi fell back into old habits, the general she had once been reasserting itself in her cold tone.

"Ciradyl." If Izayoi had been irritated before, now she was nothing but a pillar of stone, her expression unreadably blank. "Explain yourself. Now."

She knew her old friend. People changed, but not enough for this sudden shift. Not enough to ally with the woman who wanted her as a trophy, if there wasn't a salient reason behind it. Yet Ciradyl stayed silent, to Izayoi's frustration. Before either woman could say anything further, a few sheets of documents were silently passed Izayoi's way by Esben. She picked them up and began to read. Her frown deepened.

"This..." Izayoi began to say after a minute. She knew many of these names. She wouldn't be mourning the majority of them. "This would absolve you, in my eyes. I have committed larger wastes of our people's lives. My presumed final stand was little more than a temper tantrum on my part that got many more killed uselessly."

Izayoi placed the documents back on the table, free for Esben to elaborate on. That one did like to talk, after all.

"Why do you not defend yourself?"

"That's something I'd like to know too." A voice proclaimed from outside the room. The door slid open, and Hien shuffled in, bleary-eyed from an apparent lack of sleep. "What?" He shrugged in the face of Izayoi's questioning glance. "All the commotion awoke me. Regardless, let's hear it, Lady Ciradyl. I believe we all deserve that much, at least."

[Main Story] Bleach: New Gen

Nakajima Ageha

One down, at last. That had taken entirely too long, even for a Hollow likely tougher than the rest. Shameful on her end. Ageha would have to redouble her efforts. She rose from her crouch where she'd landed, brandishing Tetsu Moya with deadly intent. A quick glance across the field had her narrowing her eyes in a disdainful glare at the living human near Shion, though she didn't manage to do anything further with that thought. As it turned out, it seemed Jinzo had gotten himself into trouble. Considering he'd engaged however many Hollows at once, that wasn't a surprise.

Ageha gnashed her teeth in irritation, following after Shion. Once both of them were atop the warehouse, Ageha split off, covering a different direction than Shion in fighting off the Hollows attacking their nominal teammate.

"Remind me again why you couldn't have picked a less suicidal plan of attack, fool!" Ageha spat in Jinzo's direction, her dadao flashing as she slashed out at a Hollow, aiming to cleave straight through its mask. "You couldn't have waited not one minute?"

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

The situation had tangled very, very quickly. Izayoi's response to Ciradyl breaking free and stabbing Mizutani was an exasperated sigh, as Rudolf had been close enough to restrain the Faye so that Izayoi hadn't needed to intervene. Nevertheless, she stalked forward as Miina and Galahad made their inquiries, fixing Ciradyl with a pointed stare.

"We will discuss this later. For now, wait. You are complicating the situation at the moment."

All the while, Mizutani laughed bitterly as Miina healed her wound, shaking her head.

"You might be sincere about keeping me alive, but I already know I'm a dead woman." She spat, her eyes flickering towards Izayoi. At that, the samurai gave a thin smile, her katana held at her side.

"Answer the question, wench. It will make the difference between a painless death or a drawn out one. And I would far prefer the latter." Izayoi's gaze had an unholy glint, showing far too much pleasure at the thought of a slow death for the crime lord.

"Hah! I knew it. But fine, I'll tell the little bitch here what she wants. Your useless brother was a little trophy for me at first. After all, he was a mage. Who else had one in their employ? Then it turned out the little shit barely had anything past parlor tricks. Took ship to Costa del Sol. He owes no few people no small amount of debts. Satisfied, kitten?" Mizutani giggled madly, her inhibitions cut loose by her impending death.

"A bit of a...bonus. Cici...Ciradyl, is the reason Valheim took control so easily. She infiltrated rebel cells and gave me their intel. Valheim might have had more of a fight without her help."

Izayoi glared at Mizutani, walking up and gently taking Miina aside before turning to plunge the tip of her sword into her belly.

"Perhaps you may be telling the truth. Perhaps you are simply trying to sow discord as one last act of spite. Regardless, I will not give you the satisfaction you seek." Izayoi kept her expression locked in a rictus of hatred for the woman before her as Mizutani howled in pain. She wrenched her katana free, flicking the blood off before sheathing it and turning around.

"Rudolf. Release her." Izayoi knelt down to pick up Ciradyl's stiletto and walked forward before planting the dagger into the floorboard in front of its owner. "Finish what you started. If you will not, I will. The rest, we will discuss back at the safehouse."

One way or another, Mizutani Tane's head would be taken on this night.

___

Esben and Robin's path downstairs was unbarred, the majority of Mizutani's goons either concerned with putting out the fire or simply looting as much as they could before fleeing. Eventually, however, they would come across the basement, where a treasure trove awaited the two.

It seemed the basement was Mizutani's personal office, where she kept no few valuables, as well as a sheaf of documents. A cursory glance through them revealed the depth of the underworld's collaboration with Valheim, to say nothing of Ciradyl's involvement in destroying several rebel cells while working with Mizutani.

Even disregarding that, between the jade, gold, and silver kept around the office, there was enough loot here to keep the Kirins' quest funded for quite some time should it be resold. That, or redistributed to the resistance or the needy of Kugane as the looters willed.

___

The entirety of Team Kirin returned to the safehouse rather late that night. Bikke was back on his ship and wouldn't be roused until morning, and Izayoi didn't bother to wake Hien before leading everyone back into the meeting room.

"I believe we have much to discuss, Ciradyl." She said, her tone dripping with genuine irritation. "To begin with, considering we had the exact same goal, this entire debacle could have been avoided. Secondly, Mizutani's last words. How much of the truth was within them?"

She didn't want to believe it. Hell, Izayoi had no reason to believe it. Mizutani was a scheming, lying, glorified bandit. But considering Ciradyl had evidently ingratiated herself with the woman over the last few years, something was wrong here.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

Edwin struck him down, and Renar awoke in the middle of the night, a glower plastered on his face. He hadn't expected victory, of course. Renar had improved significantly since his first try against the fool, but the gap between the two was still wide enough that he'd lost handily. Still, he'd gotten what he wanted out of it. That being a useful measuring stick against which he could note his rate of improvement.

He rose from his bed, thoughts buzzing through his mind. It would be pointless to try to sleep right now. Especially after it felt he'd been slumbering for hours. Renar dressed himself in a simple tunic and breeches, belting his sword to his side before leaving his chambers. He mused as he walked, emerging out on the castle ramparts.

"Now what?" Renar murmured to himself. It was true that he'd grown much in strength and skill. But those were only one part of the equation. How would he leverage this into achieving his goals? Unless a war or some other crisis broke out, being ever so slightly better at killing wouldn't amount to much on its own. Especially when everyone around him had grown at the same rate. The thought crossed through his mind that surely, with the amount he'd improved, he could get away with killing his own father at last. But he pushed the inane musing down. Renar could have accomplished that with poison years ago. It would have availed him of nothing. Even should his father die, that just meant his elder brother would get everything.

And besides, Renar wanted Lord Brias alive so that the old man could choke on the ash in his mouth when he saw his bastard son achieve everything he deserved. He wouldn't assassinate his father until then. But that still left the question of how to go about it.

He folded his arms, staring up into the stars as he continued to plot.

SPIRITUM

Kalina Kovalic

In any other circumstance, Kalina wouldn't have bothered to give the civvie bleating for help a second thought. WARDENs were trained to kill their enemies first, not play fire rescue for every idiot that got caught in a free fire zone. But that wasn't a civvie. That was a complete and utter asshole. Then again, it'd been four years. Maybe she was remembering the voice wrong.

She leapt to the side of the RV the voice had came from, investigating the knocked out man. And...damn it. It was him. Ivan Vorokov. An associate of the Marauders by proxy, in that he ran supplies and logistics, acquiring whatever materiel the unit needed. Or at least he would be if he wasn't an unreliable cheat, swindler, coward, and all-around dirtbag. Unfortunately, his contact list in both Rassvet and Vangar was too extensive to justify giving him the boot. So Kalina needed to keep him alive. She narrowed her eyes, a low sigh coming out of her breath as she squatted down to heft his unconscious body over one shoulder.

"Gerard, bringing a casualty over to you." She intoned over the telecomm. "He's mission-critical to my father's unit. I need him alive." It was a rare occasion that Kalina actually asked for anything directly, but this was too important. She sprinted over towards Gerard and the Princess's location, dumping Ivan's sorry form off in front of her teammate and giving him a brief stare to impart the gravity of the situation on him before she turned to dash back into the fray.

Iris Ascendis

Iraleth Kyrios

Iraleth jerked her head sharply in the Strigdae's direction as she finished pulling herself up to her feet, her eyes locked in a glare. Somehow, just somehow, she doubted he was offering to help out of any real concern for the situation. Likely this was all part of some inane plan of his. Well. She had a plan of her own.

Ciara's shadow dragon descended upon the area, and Iraleth simply presented arms, intoning.

"On borrowed wings."

The Inheritor formed into being, most of its form as radiant as ever. With one exception. A single jagged scar ran down the helmet, marring the armor forevermore. For her part, Iraleth didn't notice such, bracing the Inheritor's shield in front of her to guard against the shadow tsunami. Once it concluded, she took flight immediately.

Iraleth kept her shield braced in front of her as she flew at top speed, not bothering to slow down in her pursuit of Ciara as she crashed through doorways and walls, following the shadows and the trail of blood she left behind.

It was such a shame that there would be no possible method to keep her restrained. Iraleth would find some half-baked justification later. But after that display, she doubted she'd even need one.

Iris Ascendis

posting tonight or tomorrow, depending on how tired I feel

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Eliane and Galahad had taken two of the three hired ronin by surprise, their lives ending in an instant. The last one raised his sword, expression gobsmacked as Izayoi closed in to engage. Their impromptu duel lasted a sum total of ten seconds of back-and-forth before Izayoi kicked him away, sheathed her sword, and then dashed forward. The elite guard managed to parry her quickdraw, but was completely unprepared for her non-sword holding hand to whip her sword's scabbard out and smash it into the side of his head, crushing his skull.

Her eyes wide with panic at seeing her best guards cut down so quickly, Mizutani reached over in a flurry of motion to grab Ciradyl in a hold, drawing a pistol and waving it about as she screamed at Izayoi.

“Not another step, butcher! She’s MINE, do you hear me?! Not yours!”

”Imir’s breath, what are you prattling on about?” Izayoi kept her sword raised, her teeth grit in frustration. ”I should have killed you years ago, consequences be damned.”

Even if she were still fast enough to cut Mizutani’s throat in the blink of an eye, there was still a chance the bitch could get a shot off, putting Ciradyl at risk. Unacceptable. Better to keep her distracted so that one of the others had a solution.

Izayoi glared death at Mizutani as she slowly paced to the side, keeping the crime lordess’s attention on herself as she kept her sword raised. Mizutani wasn’t a complete fool, of course. She’d catch on to what Izayoi was up to should she go too far. Thus, the latter only moved about forty-five degrees from where she had been standing, leaving the slightest gap in Mizutani’s peripheral vision that any of the others could take advantage of.