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How daring a hunter to seek prey within eventide hours; one so experienced should know a monster is at their strongest when the sun’s blasted light vanishes over the horizon and plunges the world into lovely darkness. Yet here she is wandering within the hot, humid building where the reputed reaper resides whether by happenstance or fate; long have the workers left and only the metallic thud of her footsteps fills the otherwise silent smithy. It appears derelict while abandoned work is left to smolder in the fire pits and exude a steely odor so strong it rusts the tongue.

Surely the woman feels the hateful negativity permeating the air and increasing with each step but she proceeds boldly, eager to deliver the justice so deserved; with the kind of fearlessness and self-styled sense of responsibility which has killed so many similarly seeking warriors.

Then the awful metal shriek drags across the silence from behind one of the leftward stations ten feet away to announce arrival; perhaps one has stubbornly remained behind to finish their project, even more dauntless than the knight. A notion dismissed when the female figure emerges in sideways view with slow, shrilling steps: long, unkept black hair; crimson silk kimono and simple, clapping sandals as her frowning face remains sunken like a shamed child. They appear ignorant of the hunter as they tug their katana by the frayed cord of its handle: a brand made an ugly brown with corrosion and neglect while it carves hungrily into the floor. It’s not until the declaration comes that the entity stops.

“Justice has come for you, monster.”

She turns her beautiful Japanese face enough to reveal an awed opal eye. The surprise vanishes in a blink and rightward cant of the head as they turn fully toward what will become dinner; the other eye is patched by raven locks she glares with thirsty, excited gleam and yanks their sword into proper, level hold, idle at their right side and pointed forward.

Reply comes flatly in a deep, velvety, deceptively gentle lilt. “Well, Ms. Justice…” A challenging smirk. “Come for me…”
Let's go.
I take it I can't post until my sheet is approved.

I'll just... Sit here.
Are you in this?
@Drifting Pollen


Also, I'm interested.

So what am I doing with my sheet?


I'll get around to that since I haven't made a sheet for her since...

...the last time...

...maybe tomorrow...
How dare you.

Just let me in since you know I'll be using Chiaki and know everything she does already.

All you'd have to do is put me in the bracket.
A somber moon peers down tonight
through its mask of eerie clouds
upon domiciles frozen by fright
of the reaper adorned in shrouds
who prowls the streets for kids
for they possess souls pristine
and repentance the hunger forbids
so earning death from the Queen
whose emissary has long arrived
learning of the butcheries past
as well as the motives derived
hence it's known what bait best
to lure the prey into the nest

Therefore a child wanders the street
and such a pretty little thing she is
adorned in rags hugging self for heat
her bright eyes surely a fancy of his
in a perfect contrast to filthy skin
awhile she shivers in a summer chill
whispering for mother in shaking din
assuming she's next he's soon to kill
so bold as to call for Dad quite loud
still like a statue for a wanted reply
she swallows and sobs with head bowed
alone in the dark where a monster lie
with none to help when he soon appear
to claim the prize he holds so dear
Four days too late.

Oh, well.
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