Scribe of Thoth

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 10th - ???}

---

No, he didn't want to jump right into it. He wanted to wake up and forget any of this ever happened. He didn't care about his 'potential' or corrupted people or anything, he just wanted one of them to drag him out of this hell already before those hands came back. Mira just reinforced what Daigo already knew; they couldn't even hurt that thing, they'd just have to play damsel in distress until Hoshino handled it. He hated being powerless, he never knew what to feel or how to act in that situation. His eyes stung, but he knew he shouldn't cry - no one else was crying. It wasn't his failure to cry over, he was simply a victim of unfortunate circumstance, as usual.

He forced an uneasy smile. "Please take care of us, then." It sounded lame even to him. The redhead trailed along with the group as they moved, wringing his hands together in a constant nervous fidget to stop himself from outright clinging to Genki. Maybe that girl - Sasaki, right; she gave her name - would play with his hair again if he asked. No, he'd just look pathetic if he did. The shadows that descended from the ceiling shortly after left any hopes of comfort unfulfilled anyway.

Mouths were even worse than hands; hands would drag him off to some dark corner, but these shadows left no question whether or not he'd be eaten if they got to him. He was nothing but a burden here. The only act he could manage was to not break down again, no matter how much he wanted to. Hoshino seemed agitated enough that he had to protect them, he'd only start to resent the fiery-haired boy if he had to stop and comfort him every time he was spooked too. Demon or not, Daigo really didn't want his new friend to hate him after only a day. It was easier to just pretend he was coping well enough.

As a shadow swooped past, Daigo finally collapsed on his ass in his best attempt at fleeing. Luckily for him, the creature refocused on the more pressing threat as Noriaki sliced one of its brethren in half. The redheaded teen turned and crawled away on his hands and knees as he sucked in shallow breaths, fighting back tears the whole time. He probably didn't have enough air in his lungs to start wailing that he didn't want to die. Maybe they'd call him brave at his funeral.

That face you wear doesn't suit you.

A voice that sounded almost like his own reverberated through Daigo's head, each syllable rattling in tune with a throb of sudden pain in his skull. The boy clamped a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut on instinct, curling in on himself on the floor. Was this the demon hand's doing? Or one of those mouth things? He dared a glimpse back up at his surroundings, his eyes now alight with a familiar golden hue. At least the mouths hadn't begun circling him like a pack of hungry dogs yet, but that was a small comfort.

Your mask is a poor imitation of the real thing; you don it only because you believe you have no recourse but to meet your bitter fate with dignity. That forced optimism will offer no solace to you. To do nothing in the face of calamity is to reject every outcome more favorable. Even if your demise is assured, the other self within you longs to discard the facade and resist to the very end.

The second bout of speech forced his eyes closed again in a futile attempt to alleviate his headache. Renewed nausea followed, which caused Daigo to instinctively clamp a hand over his mouth and left only a wobbly arm to support his slumped-over torso - not that he could bring himself to even sit up. What did the voice even mean? He had no choice but to cower behind Hoshino, unless it thought suicide was preferable to whatever those hands wanted to do to him.

But are all endings not also beginnings? The hour of creation draws near; the moment where vapid echoes of possibility may be actualized from nothingness. The cycle cannot be broken, yet each morning brings the promise of something new. Will you hold to this pitiful course as all you hold dear fades into the night? Or do you possess the resolve to seize the day, knowing your radiance may still be extinguished come twilight?

When he peeked an eye open again, Daigo was greeted with an unexpected visitor; a butterfly, glowing an ethereal blue. The insect descended listlessly to the ground and perched just within arm's reach. That was what started it all. That damn butterfly. William, Mira; they were all connected somehow, they all tricked him into a fate he didn't want. Daigo reached out tenderly at first, a pleading hand extended to beg the little creature to save him. His limb paused just before they touched. It was this thing's fault. It led him to the mirror on purpose. The cat might've wanted Noriaki, but this thing had wanted all of them in here. It wasn't salvation, it was just taunting him in his final moments. Steeling the rest of his resolve, Daigo forcefully slammed his hand down to crush the butterfly underpalm. It didn't feel like he'd just splattered a bug into paste. It didn't feel like anything but the ground, as if he'd imagined that anything appeared in front of him at all. Even so, he hoped the little bastard had felt even a fraction of the pain reverberating through the ginger's skull.

A genuine face at last. Very well. Let us begin the contract.

I am thou, thou art I.
If thou hast chosen this dawn to begin anew,
let thine emergence from thy false shell pierce this darkness
and stand astride the world as the brightest light of all!

The pain shooting through Daigo's head ceased immediately as he curled his fist around the butterfly he'd crushed. But it was no longer a butterfly; it was a key - the key from that weird dream, from that damn contract that dragged him into this mess. A card laid on the ground before him, depicting a sun with a face on it. It didn't interest him; he knew what he had to do now. Daigo rose to his feet calmly, despite the shadows now closing in on the easy prey.

The key felt smaller in his hand now, lighter. It wasn't a key. It was a match now. He didn't question it, just struck it along his sleeve to produce an unnatural flame of the same cyan hue as the butterfly. Daigo extended the match out toward the encroaching shadows, letting his eyes briefly follow the hypnotic dance of the fire rather than size up the foes before him.

"Carve a path," His mind supplied a name as surely as he knew his own, "Khepri." He dropped the match with the intuitive knowledge it would land right where he desired - right on the sun card. It caught with the same turquoise flame as the match, which smouldered only a moment before the whole card flared in an inferno that engulfed Daigo utterly. A horned figure rose out of the blaze, all sharp points and chitinous armor, glaring down at the shadows before it as intensely as the sun beats down upon the desert at noon. Daigo swept his arm aside as the looming creature mirrored him, dispersing the pyre around them in a single gesture.

The boy stood now in archaic clothing, his hair catching the light in all the colors of the sunrise as it shifted in the updraft of the supernatural flames. Gold-trimmed black lamellar, reminiscent of samurai of old and emblazoned with a prominent orange sunburst across the breastplate, rested over a dark shitagi that clung to his form despite its bagginess. Daigo was still hardly the picture of a fierce warrior; the cuirass lacked spaulders and provided nothing to hide his narrow shoulders, and his glasses still framed his face as boyish and unthreatening, though the rims had darkened a few shades. Nevertheless, there was a determination in his eyes that promised he wouldn't stop until he'd reached some far-off goal, as if the enemies before him were negligible obstacles that could be bypassed effortlessly.

A mote of light burned to life inbetween the forked horns of the Persona at Daigo's back, and its elytra spread angelically like wings about to take flight. A thin beam shot forward from the glowing ball above its head that seared a trail in the ground as it swept right through a shadow before him, which left the bisected halves of the monster to fall to the ground in a sizzling heap before dissolving back into the formless goo they'd originated from. Daigo then took an assertive step forward and Khepri responded, gaining altitude as golden flames burst forth from beneath its elytra like thrusters on a rocket.

---

@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 10th - ???}

---

There was a certain point where it seemed easier to just clamp his hands over his ears than listen any further to the cat... girl... thing's explanation of the shit creek they'd just drifted up without a paddle. He didn't know what 'corrupted' meant, or who she could possibly mean when she said someone close to him, or what that made him tasty to demon hands. Last he checked, nobody he knew was friendly with some giant shadow monster, unless it was Hoshino and his new tail, but kitty seemed to think he was on her side. Daigo believed her too; if he wasn't, he probably wouldn't have bothered to pull Daigo away from the mirror, futile as the act was. The glowing thing she pulled out of his chest was more worrisome anyway. Was Potential what made Hoshino look like that? Daigo didn't want to be turned into... whatever his new friend was, but if devil horns was the preferable transformation, he'd hate to see what corrupted potential looked like. And of course, the only way out was blocked.

The redhead stayed rigidly in place until the girl had walked away. Friendly or not, he didn't want her anywhere near him until he figured out what exactly was happening, and maybe even after that. It didn't sound like anyone really understood what was going on, and everything Mira, apparently, explained left him with more questions than answers. Genki at least seemed to take everything in stride, or maybe he just had a good poker face. He looked like a good person to hide behind for the time being; at least he was still fully human. Then again, if that hand wanted Daigo specifically, he wasn't sure hiding would do him any good. Quite franky, he wanted to pass out and rip up that stupid contract he'd signed while he was asleep if that was the cause of all this. William couldn't just put 'evil hands will murder you' in the fine print and expect to not get a complaint or two!

"Hinari Daigo," He introduced himself bashfully, "Um, thanks. For trying to help. Sorry I got you all roped up in... whatever this is." The boy fidgeted with his sleeves, keeping his gaze downturned rather than make eye contact with anyone. Once he'd collected his confidence a little, Daigo upturned his head and forced a sheepish grin, "I'm sure we'll be okay." He didn't believe it for a second, and his resolve faltered as quickly as it came.

"So how do we kill a shadow?" Might as well get straight to the point; more questions about where they were only led to more answers he didn't like and more stress. If they had a chance, it'd be less time spent in this place. And if they didn't... well, same result.

---

@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Well. That wasn't the response Auberon had been looking for. He'd meant the question genuinely, but he hadn't actually considered what to do if Kellen responded negatively. He wasn't hurt; hurt people didn't run that smoothly. Kellen was just scared then. Auberon's first instinct was to yell at him, but that hardly seemed fair. He hadn't done anything wrong - and more importantly, he hadn't totally given up. Saints, Auberon was scared too, he just wasn't going to give these bastards - or Jorah - the satisfaction of seeing it. Still, if the Fraldarius boy stayed distracted like that, he was as good as dead the moment someone swung at him.

There wasn't exactly time for an impassioned sermon on the protective embrace of the Goddess, either, so Auberon sorely lacked in concise pep talk ideas.

"Hold it together a little bit longer," The blond consoled him awkwardly, "I'll watch your back, but you have to calm down and watch your front too." He didn't bother to look back at the other boy, instead keeping his eyes on the scuffle in front of him. Another consequence of Kellen's freak out was that he'd stopped moving toward the mages, which meant he was no longer the bandit's prime target. Professor Euphemia seemed to have stolen that honor, and Auberon could only tense in horror was he snatched her up by the neck in preparation for an execution. If he used her as a hostage, they were stuck. Auberon's eyes flicked to the side, which granted him minor relief that the ritual looked to have been disrupted. The village was at least safe, regardless of anything this monster of a man could do.

No, it was over for the chief regardless. If he tried to bargain his way out, Auberon had already made up his mind to charge him anyway the moment Euphemia was out of his reach. He probably knew that, though, which meant he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Fortunately, he banked too much on his strength and gave little thought to his own defense, and the professor had wriggled out of his grasp while she delivered the most solid wound on him yet. His blood simmered at Michail's order, aching to deliver a decisive blow. There wouldn't be enough time for Auberon's Crest to flare again if things continued like this, but a reprieve from all of this stress was hardly something to complain about even so.

"You heard him," Auberon ordered brusquely just before he pushed off the ground at a full sprint toward the behemoth in front of them. He raced in toward the man's injured side with his axe low, holding his strike until he'd finished skidding and his feet were dug squarely into the dirt. From there, he hefted his weapon in an upward swing with the intent to sever the brute's already-wounded limb completely at the armpit.

---

@ThatCharacter

Of Blood and Magic

---

It seemed like Max's earlier assumpted was correct, the exercise went a lot smoother when Ashton was the one compensating for him rather than the other way around. Whether that was attributed to the other student's experience level or just their personalities clashing would be helpful information, though. Who was he kidding? No it wouldn't; he'd probably never be in this situation again outside this class. Eris was already nervous enough everytime he walked past an array of silverware, and if Feliks was any indication, his affinity had a certain type associated with it. The leech would have to be suicidal to consider inducting a second metal mage into his service.

Still, it was hard to feel pride in completing the task when he was pretty certain his partner had done most of the work. All that display had taught him was that he couldn't just power through the exercise as he'd hoped, which was a fact Max has fairly well aware of by now and at this point, he was really just testing his luck. His arms raised in front of him again in preparation for the next try, though the cube only made it about an inch off the table before Max abruptly dropped it at Ashton's outburst. It was a shock the collared loser even had it in him to be that assertive, and on Max's behalf, at that. The vote of confidence was nice, but the brunette couldn't quite agree. He fully expected another explosion if he had to hold the metal in place again, and technically the puzzle wasn't 'done' until he could do both roles. Sure, the whole thing was asinine, but Artiae made it sound like the entire class hinged on this concept.

Of course, it was a lot easier to side with the professor when he gassed Max up unintentionally. The bit about him tearing down a building with a stray thought was, naturally, flattering as hell.

The rest of the class was awkward, to say the least, but Max was hardly a stranger to tense rooms and wasn't particularly bothered. Of course, if Asston got snappy with him, that could change real quick. The professor's advisement just elicited a sigh from Max. He just had to get the exhausting classes first thing in the morning, didn't he? He used his first class to wake up, not put himself back to sleep. Maybe he could take a nap in Dowsing or something.

"The fuck was that...?" Max mumbled as Ashton vacated himself promptly from the room. That eager to run home to his master, huh? The mage spared a passing glance and a shrug back at Professor Artiae before he whipped out his phone. The 'Retriever' across the screen got a sly grin out of the boy, if only because Aaron's thinly-veiled clapbacks and deadpan remarks had to be at least more entertaining than whatever guilt-fueled response Salem lazily sent his way.

> Classy.

See, the worst part about that message was Max had no idea how to tell if the Retriever was kidding or not. His first instinct was, of course, to assume Aaron was being facetious, but for all Max knew, that could very well be a classy look in his circles. No; even if the collar was the peak of magely fashion, 'crayon factory explosion survivor' wasn't a look anyone would adore.

> Dude's a fucking weirdo, got in a spat with the professor that we weren't going fast enough 5 seconds after i almost killed us both going too fast
> How tf do you wear a whole ass collar and then be that idk, brave?

---

@Obscene Symphony

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 10th - ???}

---

Daigo paid little mind to the rest of the room, as lost in his own head as he was. Anything to avoid having to face the reality - or whatever this was - in front of him. In a way, it wasn't that different from the gym they were just standing in; Hoshino was yelling at the cat - who may or may not have been a demon trying to eat him, Genki was trying to figure out what the hell was even going on, and the girl... well, Daigo was surprised she even followed them to the gym in the first place given how dismissive she was back by the lockers. Yeah, just like the gym. The nice, safe gym. There was a joke about curiosity and cats to be made here somewhere, but Daigo definitely wasn't going to be the one to make it while he was still panicked.

He needed to calm down, everything was gonna be fine.

No it wasn't. They were stuck there. He'd gotten all of them killed by virtue of being gourmet demon food. All the hyperventilation had him a bit lightheaded at this point; maybe he'd get lucky and be fast asleep while they ate him. The green-haired girl obviously blamed him, he could tell by her tone. Wait, when did she get so close? He hadn't even noticed her move.

Daigo winced a bit as she extended her hand upward, more out of nerves than any genuine horror in her direction - that was reserved for the purple thing and the catgirl. Still, she might smack him or something. His eyes followed her hand upward until it actually made contact with his fiery locks, then lazily drifted back down to rest on her face. For a moment, he was utterly transfixed on the girl in front of him; his breathing normalized and the tension gradually bled out of his frame with every tangle she worked out of his hair. The motion was weirdly soothing, like he was an animal being petted. It wasn't until she finished and a weight was dropped into his hands that he even processed what she'd been doing.

"Y-yeah," Daigo responded, dumbfounded but far more lucid than he was previously. He turned the glasses over in his hands a few times contemplatively. Sure, seeing was great, but if everything around him was a nondescript blur, he could pretend he wasn't currently stuck inside a magic death mirror somehow. At least until he saw flashes of movement outside the ten-ish foot radius he could comfortably make out and stressed himself out even harder while he waited for his inevitable demise.

Fine, he'd look. He swore Hoshino mentioned a way out, which meant they'd be fine. Naturally, he should help them look for the exit so they could get out sooner. Nothing to worry about! Wait, how did Hoshino even know that?

The redhead slid his glasses back onto his face and immediately recoiled in surprise. Purple demon man looked way too much like Hoshino for comfort. And... Hoshino himself wasn't in the room. So the only explanation was...

"Um, guys. W-why does Hoshino-kun have a tail?" Daigo nervously asked. Unless Osaka was the secret tenth layer of hell, there had to be something else going on that Daigo himself wasn't privy to, even beyond the evil hands and transforming cats.

---

@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Jorah's arrival at his side was unexpected but not unwelcome, though Goddess help him if the Deer ever heard he held that sentiment. Judging by the way he was still making light of the situation, his fellow House Leader hadn't been harmed yet either. Goddess willing, they'd all stay that way.

"I figured a formal invitation to duel would just confuse the poor simpleton," Auberon responded to Jorah's prodding, "Careful, he's faster than he looks." A sentiment promptly illustrated when the man outright knocked the spear out of the air. At least the arrow newly embedded in the muscle might slow his swings a bit. It certainly didn't seem to impact the way he moved to bisect Kellen while he ran past, but Michail had interposed himself in front of the blow before Auberon had even seen him move - before he'd even registered the danger of the situation, even.

The fingers wrapped around Auberon's axe tightened to the point of trembling. That was both his housemates targetted now, and Auberon had barely been spared a glance. Was he not worth the effort? Was this fat bastard mocking him? It didn't matter. Retribution would be written in the splattered chunks of brain that leaked from this fiend's skull, whether Auberon cracked it open from the front or behind. He could rush in right now and - no, this guy was smart enough not to fall for a diversion. Perhaps whatever peasant hovel he crawled out of contained a book or two. No amount of ferocity Auberon could put forth would monopolize this brute's attention if even Michail had to dance after him to keep him occupied. The blond would simply have to put himself in a position where the man would have to barrel through him to get to his objective. Somewhere like... right in front of Kellen. Even if he went for Imogen instead, the bandit would be forced to engage Auberon regardless once he and Kellen started lopping off wizardly heads.

"Strafe him and aim for his back while he's swinging at us, but don't be scared to take potshots at those mages if you see an opportunity," Auberon advised Jorah offhandedly before setting off. The fact that a Leicester had gotten the first notable hit on this guy irked his competitive side more than he would've liked to admit, but if it worked, Auberon certainly wasn't going to discourage it. He rushed in toward the bandit's side, axe low and drawn back to easily telegraph a strike. As he entered melee range, he kept a cautious distance and feinted at the bandit's hamstring to both draw some pressure off Michail and mask his true intentions before peeling off to put one more body between their opponent and Kellen. Once in position, Auberon slowly backpedaled to reduce the odds of Chief Pork Dinner flanking him to get to his target.

"You okay? You look like shit," He asked innocently without looking back at his housemate. Kellen hadn't been hit, Auberon was sure of it, but that was a lot of red. Either he was a messy fighter, or that burst of white magic earlier had saved his life. No time to dwell on it though; the boy took up a defensive stance and refocused on the bandit chief. "I'll stick close until he charges. Then he's dead." It was said decisively, with no room for doubt or skepticism. In Auberon's mind, the bandit may as well have already been bleeding out. His faith would see it done.

---

@Obscene Symphony@ThatCharacter

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 10th - ???}

---

Three people. That would be enough. It had to be enough. This hand couldn't be that strong. And yet, with every passing second, the door in the distance grew further and further away. Daigo still wanted to scream, but he couldn't will himself to do so. His mouth simply hung open, petrified in fear. Focusing on anything except the floor right in front of him became a challenge, though the hint of blue that still lined his periphery told him it was merely another symptom of panic. Literally nothing he could do here would matter. It was over. As he reached the mirror and the arm saw fit to lift him upward, his mouth finally pursed into a lopsided grin. He wanted to puke.

Then everything was gone, replaced with cold and vertigo and darkness. Did he die? That wasn't so bad.

Daigo's fears weren't assuaged when his body flopped against the cold floor of a new room, mainly because the creepy hand had followed him into the afterlife. It was still there with a vice around his leg like a shackle. He couldn't catch his breath; why couldn't he catch his breath? Dead people didn't breathe. He was alive, but... somewhere new. Even as the hand finally saw fit to release him, his limbs wouldn't stop trembling. Strangely, the other grips remained. Purple. The thing staring at him from the other end of his arm was purple. That wasn't natural.

The redhead pulled his arms away from the two grabbing his wrists with the last bit of strength he could muster, still hyperventilating. He propped himself up just in time to witness some giant figure spear the hand that had harassed him. That new girl did it somehow. Her eyes looked like the cat's. She looked like a cat. Daigo was wrong; he had seen that yellow before. William had the same shade. Maybe a good sign. But why lead him to the hand and then ward it off? Nothing about this was right, he couldn't even think straight. All his thoughts came out choppy. Worse, his glasses probably fell off in the gym. Dazed as he was, the boy didn't have the presence of mind to realize they had simply gotten tangled in his bangs when the hand briefly dangled him upside down as they entered the mirror.

"Who are-" Daigo panted. No, that wasn't appropriate, "What are-" His words failed again as he sucked in another frantic breath. The potentially evil catgirl called the thing with the purple eyes her devil. Devils weren't good. But... she helped him. Was she just warding off another predator when she attacked the hand so she could eat him? "Think... 'm gonna throw up."

---

@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 10th - After School}

---

So this was just the next part of his dream. Daigo had been half-kidding when he entertained the thought earlier, but the sudden shift in atmosphere confirmed it. The butterflies, the blue light; Daigo did miss the melody that had been playing though. It had been an enchanting tune, and it really livened the - what was it called? Silk Room? - up. The silent gym was just ominous. It still felt oddly real for a dream; he had a sense of lucidity that shouldn't have been present through the usual haze of sleep, but he supposed he could say the same about the other visits to the blue train car.

The second shift of lighting quickly turned the dream into a nightmare. Hoshino's warning registered just enough to convince Daigo to hesitantly back up a few steps, though the undulating black mass emerging from the mirror stole his attention far more effectively. It looked like a hand - was a person coming out? Maybe William, he hadn't made an appearance yet. Rather than a man in a blue suit, the ginger was greeted with more hand. And even more hand. And it was fast. The hand cleared the room before Daigo even noticed it was coming for him, and once it seized his leg, Daigo realized he was decidedly not in a dream.

The hand ripped him off his feet and caused him to slam hard on his back, promptly knocking the wind out of him. In lieu of screaming, the ginger sucked air and flailed his arms, clawing for something - anything to grab onto. When he failed to get a firm grasp on either of his classmates' legs, he started to kick futilely at the vice around his ankle. The hand didn't flinch or falter; whatever had grabbed him was either very committed or didn't even notice the sensation. As he slid toward the mirror, Daigo continued scrambling for a handhold, though the smooth floors of the renovated gym offered little in that regard. Wait, Hoshino seemed knowledgable about all this; maybe he knew something.

"Wh-what do I do?! What is this thing?!" Daigo cried frantically, now kicking wildly like a child throwing a tantrum without a better option in sight.

---

@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

_{April 10th - After School}

---

The cat was understandably popular, but Daigo was a bit worried all the commotion would spook her again and she'd dart off. Though, one of the onlookers seemed to have stopped more for Hoshino than their new feline companion. She looked familiar somehow, so the redhead assumed she was in their grade or maybe even their class, given her familiarity with the new kid. Or maybe Hoshino was just catching girls' attention everywhere. Figures. The other kid was definitely in their class, though - Mori-kun, if he remembered right. More importantly, he was asking the important questions.

"She was looking for something earlier, but she ran right to Hoshino when she saw him," Daigo explained, "I figured she might be a mother cat looking for k-" His voice trailed off once he registered Noriaki... angry grumbling at the cat? So Hoshino did know her, but then why was he playing dumb earlier? Kinda hard to forget an animal with eyes like that. Evidently, he and the mystery cat didn't get along, though the cat certainly didn't seem to agree with that assessment given how she had acted. Or... maybe he really hated her owner, if he so charmingly referred to them as a 'demon bitch'.

As Hoshino coldly turned away, Daigo reached out to comfortingly scratch the cat's back while it yowled in indignance. Who the hell moves to a new town and immediately gets into beef with a cat? He could at least be nice enough to tell them who the cat belonged to if he was evidently so familiar with her, demon owner or not. The ginger's earlier qualms of the cat not reciprocating the animosity were swiftly dashed, however, when she pulled away from Daigo's hand and snatched Hoshino's shoes. Maybe she liked to steal things and he'd been the victim of her antics once before?

Either way, Daigo moved to stand and offer help retrieving Noriaki's shoes, but the other boy barreled over him before he even had the chance to open his mouth. Hoshino really hated this one cat in particular - maybe if he'd been nicer, he wouldn't be missing his shoes right now. He'd still probably need help cornering the cat, no matter how spirited he gave chase, and Genki seemed a bit too... lethargic to help, if his attitude in class was any indicator. Plus, Daigo absolutely had to know what the new kid had against this cat.

"What was that about?" The boy mused rhetorically as he righted himself from the awkward position Noriaki had shoved him into and stood at last. He shrugged back at the other two students, heedless of the butterfly that had made itself known around the lockers. It wasn't until he'd trotted off in pursuit of the fleeing cat that he noticed it fluttering overhead. Daigo blinked a few times and, still unconvinced, took his glasses off to rub them fruitlessly on the front of his hoodie. It rarely made them any cleaner, but it never stopped him from repeating the futile gesture everytime he saw something weird. Once they were back on his face and the inconspicuous teal dot in the distance had sharpened into a butterfly once again, Daigo was fairly certain he'd be checking in to the insane asylum right alongside Hoshino later. Hallucinations from a recurring dream had to be ranked higher on the crazy scale than desire to fight a cat.

Worse, it was headed right for the gym. The closed gym. Principal's office for trespassing, then insane asylum. So much for going home early. He glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, then slipped into the gym as quietly as the doors would allow. The scene that greeted him was, naturally, Hoshino brandishing a shoe at the poor kitty. And the butterflies. Plural now, apparently. And why was it so cold in there? He would've heard if the new gym had A/C. Clearly he had somehow fallen and knocked himself out on the floor when Noriaki shoved past him.

"Um, Hoshino-kun," The ginger called sheepishly, on the off-chance he could still get in trouble in his dream, "We're not supposed to be in here, so you should probably hurry up..."

---

@Asura@RiverMaiden@Lord Orgasmo

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Auberon never figured the urge to turn away from his objective and look back would be so strong. Not out of fear for himself - he was armored in faith that no pathetic sword of the wicked could pierce - but with the intrusive thought that he'd only be met with one of his classmates skewered on a pike when he next turned around. Normally a good thing to be aware of, but he knew the sight would only make him hesitate, and hesitation was a flaw that turned strong men into weak men and weak men into corpses. The frontliners beside him were doing admirably, he only needed to have faith that the others were just as capable and that the Goddess would shield those who weren't.

When the wave of magic washed over him, the blond only grew more resolute. Knowledge that everyone behind him was protected by something of that magnitude soothed his heart in equal measure to the aching muscles and bruised flesh. At Michail's call to charge, Auberon obeyed despite not having caught his breath yet. Probably for the best; if he started breathing through his nose again, he'd have to smell his surroundings, and he didn't need to be experienced in war to recognize the carnage around him couldn't have been pleasant to any of the senses.

They didn't get far; something came hurtling at Michail that Auberon briefly mistook for some type of siege weapon, though the projectile was shaped far too much like a woman to be a ballista bolt. The source may as well have been a siege engine, given his size - the boy wasn't sure if it was a man or a demonic beast they'd trained to hold an axe. Though with the way he was dressed up in regalia fit only for a dirt-eating peasant that thought himself a king, the man before them was obviously the leader of the band of sinners. Emphasis on was, with the way Derec smoothly maneuvered in for the attack. Auberon foolishly allowed himself to relax, only to watch the scene before him play out in a likely repeat of what had occurred when Euphemia first attacked him. He just grabbed Isolde and threw her like a pebble. His head snapped to where the duo fell, mind screaming at him to rush over but legs too tense to move. He hadn't seen any splashes of red - the axe missed, and the scene playing over and over in Auberon's mind confirmed it. Being hit with a girl as small as Isolde wasn't going to be fatal either, but then why hadn't they gotten back up? Should he go to them? What would he even do? Watch Derec die? Or run for the mages? Kill that overfed bastard that hurt his classmates? Anything except freeze up like an idiot?

Deep breaths. He was the heir of Daphnel, not some blubbering child.

Logically, Auberon knew that he should leave the monster of a man to the professors. The oaf couldn't chase him and fend off someone as swift as the Kalonic siblings at the same time; it would be trivial to slip past if he kept his wits about him. This man was clearly a cut above the rest and Auberon was but a child playing at war for the first time; he had no business trying to contend at this man's level if he didn't have to. But this bastard had too much to answer for. An entire village lost their homes, their families, their very lives; Derec and Isolde laid in a crumpled heap in the dirt; Kayden had apparently been hurt; clearly someone was injured enough to warrant that massive splash of white magic - all through no fault of their own. There wasn't even a method to this madness - it was malice for the sake of it. Merely spitting on this apostate's corpse after Michail had cut him down wouldn't satisfy the rage in his soul. Auberon wanted to feel those flames in his veins again, to illustrate decisively that whatever pinnacle of mortal might this fool may have attained was nothing before the Goddess. Maybe he'd realize his folly in the moments before Auberon sent him to his eternal judgement.

The blond traded his axe to his non-dominant hand and knelt down to rip the spear out of the grasp of his last victim. The rear guard could handle the mages - Auberon wouldn't know what to do with a fireball coming at him anyway. An axe, though; he knew axes well. Like, for instance, that they were unwieldy enough to give a big man like that a problem when faced with projectiles, no matter how unassumingly fast he could move against Derec. Auberon hoisted the stolen weapon over his shoulder like a javelin and, after waiting for a clear shot, hurled it at the bandit leader while his axe was following through from a missed strike at Michail. It wasn't balanced for throwing, but at this range he figured he could at least land a hit that would get the brigand's attention.

"Is beating on women your only talent, fatass?! Maybe your manners will improve once I've trimmed you down to a healthier weight," Auberon goaded, his axe held outstretched in challenge, "Or should I cut down the rest of your subordinates first to give you time for a snack?" This man was the one thing between them and their objective. If he burned brighter than anyone else and all eyes rested squarely on him, there was no more danger to his friends or the village.

---