Temporary

Kimetsu no Yaiba - Shingetsu

---

_{Spirit Pillar Estate, @Zoey White}

---

The Spirit Pillar Estate scarcely diminished in the presence of rain. The torrent fell upon the mountain, and its garden of trees, and the compound forcefully laid at its base, and for all the world’s trouble and confusion in the midst of a storm, the Estate thrived within it. The men and women of the Corps whose job it was to investigate Demons, they relished in the cover of the heavens, which cloaked and guided their passage to safety. And for those that remained within the bastion of the Spirit Pillar’s Estate, they gave their thanks not to be lost in its downpour, and with their blessing of equal fortune ploughed onwards into their assignments.

Of the dozen Demon Slayers residing within the Estate, only one stood out in the rain: Kankuro, First Wolf of the Spirit Pillar’s scouts. Among the two divisions of Demon Slayers, Wolf and Hummingbird, he could easily be considered him as the strongest in sheer combat prowess. In the center of the courtyard he stood, clutching the Nichirin Magari Yari his master had requested be specially made - a constant, torrent of water pummelling him from above, drenching further his already sodden black buttoned attire of the Corps.

Overlooking him, in the safety of the Estate’s engawa, were two further members of the Corps. Some-ways off to the side, forced to watch and wait for the opportunity to spar with the Wolf, was Hanako Akira, more than obviously unhappy with the conditions and the wait. And nearby, watching the display intently, was the Spirit Pillar herself, Fushigi Yuu, sat cross legged on the wooden floor of the porch - her signature blue, close cut haori fluttering in the wind in rhythm with the black ribbon tied across the sheath of her nearby katana.

”Sixth Form: Ripcurrent,” Kankuro muttered, as his stance shifted with the fall of the rain. In such a storm, his movements had become that much harder to read - his footwork was deft, and abnormally fast, dancing through the pounding rain, barely disturbing the passage of the droplets which cloaked him in a blur of movement. For less than a second, he was in one location, and almost immediately he was gone, culminating after a half dozen repetitions in a killing strike. For the past weeks he and Yuu had been perfecting the technique. The faint traces of a smile on her lips implied that that day was fast approaching.

”That’s good, really fucking good,” Yuu called out, standing from the engawa with a gentle round of applause for her Wolf. Her gaze fell to Akira, prepared to begin the match, at the moment of the sound of squawking. With rapid speed her peripheral vision whipped to the origin of the sound - a drenched, miserable crow, struggling through the wind and rain to the courtyard. The guards surely failed to recognise its flight among the torrent. Spite marring her face, Yuu stepped to the edge of the porch, leaning a bare, tattooed left arm out into the cold for the crow to land upon.

”Son of a…” the disdain on her face was painfully obvious as she read the message, similar to most of her negative emotions, which she wore like badges of honour, ”Kankuro, let Kanami know the old man’s summoned me. And, put the guards on alert, I guess. Akira-chan, you’re coming with me, no questions.”

---

Storm Pillar Estate

---

The journey from Estate to Estate was an extensive one, but most so for those residing in the Spirit Pillar’s Estate. Its seclusion from most of civilisation, a protective measure in place since three generations of Spirit Pillars prior, forced an arduous journey, painful enough by carriage, to the nearest city. Multiple hours of travel by dirt and mud roads, followed by multiple more by train, it was one Yuu had endured a dozen or more times, but one she could never bring herself to be used to.

The Estate over which the old man presided had, for as long as she had attended, rubbed her the wrong way. Three stories worth of architecture, and for all of it she had scarcely seen even the full layout of the first floor. Sending the Hummingbirds in would be a fool’s errand, Yuu understood that. His part of the Corps had been named the Executioner Squadron for a reason, and both sending her men on suicide missions and making enemies were far from in her schedule. Still, the unknowns that lurked within the upper floors of his Estate tugged from within her an unreasonable disdain - the Storm Pillar himself was one of the few she disliked to a lesser degree, but his insistence on secrecy where secrecy was unnecessary brewed a deep seated hatred.

”Right, you’re out here, Akira-chan. Adults only,” Yuu called back to her student, watching the other tag-alongs near the entrance from the corner of her eye. She turned back, arms crossed, to look at the girl. Where Yuu had at one time worn simply her haori, and casual wear for the day that barely covered her arms or torso, she had transitioned to the standard Demon Slayer Corps, black buttoned, full body uniform, drenched to the last thread. Over the top, though, remained her trademark haori as the Spirit Pillar. For a moment she stood, gauging Akira’s attitude, before turning to head in, ”Play nice, don’t make a fucking fool of yourself.”

Entering into the chamber, filled with her fellow Pillars, Yuu was almost consistently the last to arrive. Her judging eyes fell onto each, not searching or considering anything in particular, but merely looking at them, severely, in turn. Yuu disliked them all, on some level. The reasons for each differed, but her years as a Pillar had given birth to a number of poor opinions regarding them - and no doubt, vice versa. They were, however, her colleagues. She could not forget, nor undermine that. She did not have to like them to work with them.

”I’ll have my Hummingbirds change course and help your lot, then. Not really happy about dropping everything to find this asshole, but if we want subtle, I don’t exactly have a sodding choice,” Yuu announced to the other Pillars, once the Storm Pillar finished his tirade. On a certain level, she didn’t care that the River Pillar had defected. He held the title of Pillar, what Demons remained that could take control of him that wouldn’t outright kill him at the first opportunity? So his defection had to have been legitimate, ”But what kind of example do you really expect to set? Demons are going extinct, so all that’s left for us to do is follow suit - capturing and having him Seppuku is just gonna affirm to anyone who wants to defect that we’re the ones in the wrong. If you’re going to kill him anyway, might as well make him a symbol for why the Corps is still fucking necessary.”

Kimetsu no Yaiba - Shingetsu

@Sync So, since Haru didn't know how exactly to respond to the changes, I thought I'd take the opportunity to jump in and help out.

Frankly, your entire "Dance of the Thousand Blossoms" needs to be reworked from the ground up. The issues that it has are plentiful, so I'll go through them one at a time for you, starting with the most glaring:

"Ironically it differs from the traditional technique which is an abundant presence of oxygen. However, this form allows the user to inhale a great source of oxygen and utilise such as a compound that will be placed heavily on the user's body, allowing to unlock speeds beyond normal means, even for a demon slayer. Their breath becomes a physical manifestation, and it births the sensible taste of frost unto the world. Their images blur in their trek, and it almost seems as if their vision is an illusion. Speed above speed, this is a style of overpowering your opponent through movements and not strength."

Consider a number of facts: This is a derivative style from the Breath of Water, not the slowest, but definitely not the fastest Breath Style. It is also not a derivative of the Breath of Thunder, the fastest of the five main techniques. So your Dance here is a tertiary technique off from the Breath of the Sun, but also not drawn from the fastest of the main five - and you're trying to posit that it can reach "Speed above speed..."? Not just unlikely, effectively impossible - even the Dance of the Fire God has trouble with speed compared to Zenitsu's Thunderclap and Flash.

Another issue is in its forms themselves:

"It is said to have been passed down from the master's of water and evolved to its elemental counterpart, frost."

Why? Just why? In what world do Cherry Blossoms relate to ice and frost? Reading through your Forms, there is a much more heavy emphasis on the frost aspect of its creation than the cherry blossom aspect. Half the forms relate to cold or freezing, including the Fourth Form, which supposedly "...render the target to the mercy of frost." Just what is the point of this? Why the insistence on frost as an aspect of a Breath Style that has literally no correlation besides the two being originally derived of the same Style.

Thirdly there's this whole thing in your base description, which seems to be trying to posit this Style as some special kind of thing, going on about how it is difficult to understand. Sure, keep the whole anaerobic thing. But that doesn't make it any more special than any other kind of Breath Style. Ditch all the waffle bullshit about "...the sensible taste of frost..." and just write a description that establishes how the Breath Style works in comparison to others. Your Style would be vastly better if you cut the frost shit, and this notion of going faster than everyone else, and stuck to one thing - the cherry blossoms from which the Dance derives its name sake.

My suggestion would be to completely rewrite it, with a focus on the illusion of speed. Like cherry blossoms dancing in the wind, the Dance of the Thousand Blossoms could be a style, based in anaerobics, which tricks the opponent into believing that the user is faster than they actually are, relying on causing the enemy to make a mistake before entering into a fatal strike. Not only would it be an interesting Style to see in practice, but it actually fits the theme of the Breath Style.

Another thing, cut the precognition. If it were described as a skill born of experience to better react to an opponents moves, I wouldn't bring this up, but since it's written almost like he has some kind of intuitive sixth sense, it kind of needs to be addressed.

Kimetsu no Yaiba - Shingetsu

Breath of the Spirits Pillar - Yuu Fushigi

N a m e : Yuu Fushigi (風死技_フシギ 幽_ユウ Fushigi Yuu)
A g e : 23
G e n d e r : Female
B r i e f B i o : The Fushigi line for nearly a thousand years has been comprised of highly skilled Demon Slayers, trained extensively in the family art of the Breath of The Spirits. Fushigi Yuu was born second behind a brother, Fushigi Yō, to the former Spirit Pillar for the Demon Slayer Corps, Fushigi Rei, and Fushigi Minako, the daughter of a rice farmer in a village Rei cleansed of Demonic presences, where the two fell smitten. As the oldest of the two siblings, Yō was focused on as a priority, while Yuu was allowed to watch and train alongside, in part to keep her entertained, in part to act as a sparring partner, and in some degree as a backup, should the Tsuguko in the form of Yō be deceased before taking on the mantle as Pillar. Both took to the style naturally, much like their ancestors before them had done, until they had developed enough to survive through the Final Selection - Rei first, and shorty after, Yuu. Years later, during the assault on Kibutsuji Muzan, The Spirit Pillar and his Tsuguko joined the fight and were wiped out by one of the Upper Moons. Left with a mother ragged with grief and ailing health, Yuu was left to take up the remaining title of Spirit Pillar. For a time she worked tirelessly, out of a personal sense of duty, until she finally felt at a level that would do her family proud. Due to her breath enhanced speed, Yuu is typically the first on the scene of battle, and is thus commonly employed by the Corps as a scout, to confirm threats, eliminate Demons prior to escalated action, or prevent further damage to civilisation and life until reinforcements can arrive.
P e r s o n a l i t y
[+] Driven
[+] Empathetic
[+] Protective
[-] Controlling
[-] Harsh Spoken
[-] Quick to Anger
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_{B r e a t h i n g S t y l e}

^{B r e a t h o f t h e. S p i r i t s} : Derived from the Breath of Mist, and by extension the Breath of Wind. The style specialises in silence and speed, obscuring a swordsman's moves and intentions until the very last moment of the strike. Like an ephemeral spectre atop a lake, it is a swift, sudden, almost gentle series of techniques, and those that practice it glide across the field of battle light as air. Though the techniques themselves lack some of the power compared to other styles, the Breath of The Spirits makes up for it with fast, deft strikes from an enemies blind-spot, and brutally efficient manoeuvres.

❀ First Form: Phantom Arc - With great speed, the user performs two slashes. The first acts as a feint, drawing the enemies attention and diverting their guard, while the second decapitates them.

❀ First Form: Phantom Arc Hundred Arms - A subset of the First Form, which increases the number of slashes made to disorient the enemy. Theoretically, the wielder could perform as many strikes as their body allows, but each one incrementally places increasingly more strain until the user collapses in exhaustion. Though Yuu tends to stick with the initial two strikes, against Demons with multiple limbs or enhanced eyesight she can safely reach up to ten rapid strikes, before the toll begins to dampen her combative abilities.

❀ Second Form: Transient Shade - Heavily reminiscent of Iaidō Techniques, the user vanishes into an enemies blind-spot, sheathes their sword, and continually rotates around them, remaining outside their view whilst unleashing numerous strikes to their arms, legs, torso, and finally, neck.

❀ Third Form: Mourning Waltz - A focusing technique which dedicates one's breath to the augmentation of their speed, simultaneously decreasing the amount of time their feet remain planted on a surface, allowing them to easily traverse difficult terrain, scale heights, and even run on water.

❀ Third Form: Lamenting Waltz - A slightly altered version of the Mourning Waltz, Yuu converts her speed from an offensive to defensive application, granting extreme flexibility and agility as she twists and dodges at odd, unnatural angles. Like light dancing in fog, enemies attack the position she used to hold, opening themselves up to strikes from unexpected angles.

❀ Fourth Form: Twilight Drizzle - Yuu unleashes a horizontal slash that severs the foes torso or legs, and leaps into the air above them, before forcefully twisting her body midair and performing a guillotine like dive, decapitating the enemy.

❀ Fifth Form: Melodious Spectral Breeze - A fast and graceful strike that seems to curve unnaturally around defences, accomplished by the swift and dexterous switching of hands and reversing of grips, taking the form of a slash or a thrust - whichever becomes more convenient for the user at the time. Combined with Yuu's natural speed and silence, the technique can be used to instantly cover distance and slay an unaware demon.

❀ Sixth Form: Luminous Midnight - Yuu swings her sword dozens of times, with little strength, but an incredible amount of speed. Although this can be used to carve up large objects, its standard application is the deflection of either equally fast blows, or ranged weaponry. True to its namesake, the light reflected from the Nichirin Blade during this technique becomes reminiscent of moonlight scattered across a gently rippling pond.

❀ Seventh Form: Pale Ephemera - A custom technique devised by Yuu that operates best in highly vertical areas, such as forests or towns and cities. Combined with the Third Form: Mourning Waltz, Yuu ascends out of visual range, performs a diving strike from the foes blind-spot, and repeats the technique as many times as needed until either the demon is beheaded, or her body gives out from the strain. Due to its simplistic nature, the energy consumption and subsequently endured strain is much less than might be expected for such a technique, and can thus be used a number of times rapidly.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_{N i c h i r i n B l a d e}

^{B l a d e D e s c r i p t i o n} : Yuu wields a Nichirin Blade, forged into a standard katana. The hilt is reddish-gold wood, wrapped with white fabric that leads up to circular guard resembling a wheel with eight spokes, three of which have been splintered off. the blade itself is a vaguely reflective, almost ethereal white, with a pale grey, wisp-like winding design that trails along the hamon of the sword like smoke, and becomes more easily visible in the absence of light.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

^{O t h e r U n i q u e T r a i t s} :

Silent Presence: Honed in conjunction with her Spirit Breathing Techniques over the course of her whole life, Yuu has successfully developed to a point where her presence becomes near enough voided to the senses of those around her. Her footsteps make practically no sound, and without prior knowledge Demons and Demon Slayers alike would fail to recognise her existence at all. This skill extends upwards to her emotions, masking thoughts and intentions until she outright makes them known.

Spirit Estate NPCs

hellohellohellohellohell	S P I R I T E S T A T E N P C S
	Kyokusou Kankuro | 亟滄 感黒 Age: 21 ❀ Gender: M ❀ Breath: Depths The First Wolf of the Spirit Pillar's scouts. Despite originally being a student of the Breath of Water, Fushigi Yuu brought him in begrudgingly, and together they created a new Breath Style, combing Water and Spirit to create the Breath of the Depths. He is an excellent Demon Slayer, abnormally wielding a spear rather than a sword, which has thrown off many an opponent over his service, resulting in their deaths. As First Wolf his responsibilities are wide, even more so than Fushigi Yuu's own students - responsibilities which he embraces in stride. Kankuro still bears some emotional issues from his past before becoming a Wolf, between trust issues and unavoidable apathy, however he tries his best at everything thrown at him, with the hope of repaying the debt the owes to the Spirit Pillar.
	Kyouchou Kanami | 梟怗 歌愞美 Age: 16 ❀ Gender: F ❀ Breath: Feathers The First Hummingbird of the Spirit Pillar's scouts. Kanami is a quiet girl, introverted and unbearably awkward, even with a number of her fellow scouts. Despite that, she is a remarkable member of Fushigi Yuu's group, blessed with near enough unparalleled skill in infiltration and stealth. If not for the Spirit Pillar herself, Kanami would likely take the spot of quietest member of the scouts, and possibly the entire Corps. Paired with her Breath of Feathers, she wields Nichirin Daggers, relying on her sheer number of attacks to disable and finish off Demon opponents, though she herself rarely engages in fights, thanks to her weaker physicality. Among the scouts she is comfortable with few, though she remains ever grateful to the Spirit Pillar for her allowing the opportunity to prove herself among such esteemed and skilled fighters.

Kimetsu no Yaiba - Shingetsu

Breath of the Spirits Pillar - Yuu Fushigi

N a m e : Yuu Fushigi (風死技_フシギ 幽_ユウ Fushigi Yuu)
A g e : 23
G e n d e r : Female
B r i e f B i o : The Fushigi line for nearly a thousand years has been comprised of highly skilled Demon Slayers, trained extensively in the family art of the Breath of The Spirits. Fushigi Yuu was born second behind a brother, Fushigi Yō, to the former Spirit Pillar for the Demon Slayer Corps, Fushigi Rei, and Fushigi Minako, the daughter of a rice farmer in a village Rei cleansed of Demonic presences, where the two fell smitten. As the oldest of the two siblings, Yō was focused on as a priority, while Yuu was allowed to watch and train alongside, in part to keep her entertained, in part to act as a sparring partner, and in some degree as a backup, should the Tsuguko in the form of Yō be deceased before taking on the mantle as Pillar. Both took to the style naturally, much like their ancestors before them had done, until they had developed enough to survive through the Final Selection - Rei first, and shorty after, Yuu. Years later, during the assault on Kibutsuji Muzan, The Spirit Pillar and his Tsuguko joined the fight and were wiped out by one of the Upper Moons. Left with a mother ragged with grief and ailing health, Yuu was left to take up the remaining title of Spirit Pillar. For a time she worked tirelessly, out of a personal sense of duty, until she finally felt at a level that would do her family proud. Due to her breath enhanced speed, Yuu is typically the first on the scene of battle, and is thus commonly employed by the Corps as a scout, to confirm threats, eliminate Demons prior to escalated action, or prevent further damage to civilisation and life until reinforcements can arrive.
P e r s o n a l i t y
[+] Driven
[+] Empathetic
[+] Protective
[-] Controlling
[-] Harsh Spoken
[-] Quick to Anger
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_{B r e a t h i n g S t y l e}

^{B r e a t h o f t h e. S p i r i t s} : Derived from the Breath of Mist, and by extension the Breath of Wind. The style specialises in silence and speed, obscuring a swordsman's moves and intentions until the very last moment of the strike. Like an ephemeral spectre atop a lake, it is a swift, sudden, almost gentle series of techniques, and those that practice it glide across the field of battle light as air. Though the techniques themselves lack some of the power compared to other styles, the Breath of The Spirits makes up for it with fast, deft strikes from an enemies blind-spot, and brutally efficient manoeuvres.

❀ First Form: Phantom Arc - With great speed, the user performs two slashes. The first acts as a feint, drawing the enemies attention and diverting their guard, while the second decapitates them.

❀ First Form: Phantom Arc Hundred Arms - A subset of the First Form, which increases the number of slashes made to disorient the enemy. Theoretically, the wielder could perform as many strikes as their body allows, but each one incrementally places increasingly more strain until the user collapses in exhaustion. Though Yuu tends to stick with the initial two strikes, against Demons with multiple limbs or enhanced eyesight she can safely reach up to ten rapid strikes, before the toll begins to dampen her combative abilities.

❀ Second Form: Transient Shade - Heavily reminiscent of Iaidō Techniques, the user vanishes into an enemies blind-spot, sheathes their sword, and continually rotates around them, remaining outside their view whilst unleashing numerous strikes to their arms, legs, torso, and finally, neck.

❀ Third Form: Mourning Waltz - A focusing technique which dedicates one's breath to the augmentation of their speed, simultaneously decreasing the amount of time their feet remain planted on a surface, allowing them to easily traverse difficult terrain, scale heights, and even run on water.

❀ Third Form: Lamenting Waltz - A slightly altered version of the Mourning Waltz, Yuu converts her speed from an offensive to defensive application, granting extreme flexibility and agility as she twists and dodges at odd, unnatural angles. Like light dancing in fog, enemies attack the position she used to hold, opening themselves up to strikes from unexpected angles.

❀ Fourth Form: Twilight Drizzle - Yuu unleashes a horizontal slash that severs the foes torso or legs, and leaps into the air above them, before forcefully twisting her body midair and performing a guillotine like dive, decapitating the enemy.

❀ Fifth Form: Melodious Spectral Breeze - A fast and graceful strike that seems to curve unnaturally around defences, accomplished by the swift and dexterous switching of hands and reversing of grips, taking the form of a slash or a thrust - whichever becomes more convenient for the user at the time. Combined with Yuu's natural speed and silence, the technique can be used to instantly cover distance and slay an unaware demon.

❀ Sixth Form: Luminous Midnight - Yuu swings her sword dozens of times, with little strength, but an incredible amount of speed. Although this can be used to carve up large objects, its standard application is the deflection of either equally fast blows, or ranged weaponry. True to its namesake, the light reflected from the Nichirin Blade during this technique becomes reminiscent of moonlight scattered across a gently rippling pond.

❀ Seventh Form: Pale Ephemera - A custom technique devised by Yuu that operates best in highly vertical areas, such as forests or towns and cities. Combined with the Third Form: Mourning Waltz, Yuu ascends out of visual range, performs a diving strike from the foes blind-spot, and repeats the technique as many times as needed until either the demon is beheaded, or her body gives out from the strain. Due to its simplistic nature, the energy consumption and subsequently endured strain is much less than might be expected for such a technique, and can thus be used a number of times rapidly.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_{N i c h i r i n B l a d e}

^{B l a d e D e s c r i p t i o n} : Yuu wields a Nichirin Blade, forged into a standard katana. The hilt is reddish-gold wood, wrapped with white fabric that leads up to circular guard resembling a wheel with eight spokes, three of which have been splintered off. the blade itself is a vaguely reflective, almost ethereal white, with a pale grey, wisp-like winding design that trails along the hamon of the sword like smoke, and becomes more easily visible in the absence of light.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

^{O t h e r U n i q u e T r a i t s} :

Silent Presence: Honed in conjunction with her Spirit Breathing Techniques over the course of her whole life, Yuu has successfully developed to a point where her presence becomes near enough voided to the senses of those around her. Her footsteps make practically no sound, and without prior knowledge Demons and Demon Slayers alike would fail to recognise her existence at all. This skill extends upwards to her emotions, masking thoughts and intentions until she outright makes them known.

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

[ Liverpool, England ]
[ January 24th, 11:00PM ]

---

”I suppose so,” Fourteen replied, bearing a warmth with her words to vaguely mask the dissonance in her tone. She let her head tilt towards the sky, peeling her sight away from the dirt and grime of the city streets, and losing herself in the abyssal night above them. On days and ventures like these, rarely did she return the man’s simple comments. React she did, but what verbal responses she allowed herself were few and uncommon on the best of evenings. The two of them, wandering out into the dark and cold, on the hunt for something to assuage her depthless hunger - up until the meal itself, Fourteen did not take pleasure in the activity.

To look up into the sky, starless and infinite, allowed reprieve for a time: from the fractured world that called itself their surroundings, and from the equally starless, infinite hole of her yearning. It had been a few weeks since her last Emergence - the time left until her next ran thinner with each passing day. Kill and eat, or succumb. Neither option was desirable, but the former always managed to find itself the lesser of two evils. To distract herself from that, if only for a moment, was something Fourteen sought at each and every juncture. To be elsewhere for as long a while as was available, rather than hunting ne'er-do-wells in dismal streets, in her own skin.

Her gaze was forced downwards once more and fell upon their obstacle, as her Handler stopped his onward march. The ones that stood in their way were ragged, chewed up and spit out by the world at large. Unkempt, uncivilised, they had lived through the end of the modern world, and to Fourteen the damage was more than obvious. The hair of their forerunner, the filth that once belonged to the city clung as a veil to their flesh. Though she herself had never had to experience the squalor that was all these people knew, Fourteen read the pain and loneliness of such an existence like delicately printed prose. And on a baser level, The Hound considered how the build up of grime would alter their flavour.

In the evening chill and midwinter winds of England, the pink-red ribbons and billowing black fabric sleeves of Fourteen’s attire took to a gentle flutter. Through the first days of her station the nighttime cold had worn on her, but time passed, she grew accustomed, and rarely now did she have a need to wear much anything to shield her skin from its bite. As her Handler spoke, she found herself watching his own outfit - his clerical attire, his rosary, his hair. He talked, and she listened, to both him and them, not for their words but for their meanings and intents. For many, these would be the last words they ever heard, last emotions they ever felt, and last actions they ever took. And invariably, she thought, all these young men would be dead before daybreak.

Compared to an announcement of the beauty of the night, the commandment of death was a much simpler task. Nothing as grand as words, merely a gesture. A nod of the head. Her discontent surrounding the scenario vanished, and Fourteen took to a sprint with the element of surprise at her disposal, as fast as her genetically modified speed could carry. At first directly towards the bat wielding individual, but then to the right, deviating to the side and towards the first gun wielding member in range. Her hand whipped out towards his armed hand, twisting and snapping his wrist, and taking control of the firearm. Weapon in hand, Fourteen flipped it right-side-up in his direction and pulled the trigger, firing a single bullet from below the jaw into his head.

Before the corpse could crumple to the muck, she fired a second volley, targeting the other firearm wielding individuals with lethal intent, using their hesitation at watching their own die to rapidly pick them off. Followed closely were those with close quarters weaponry - they would receive less mercy. Any that ran would be shot dead, but those that remained would be hit in the arms or legs, just enough to incapacitate them. At the centre of a circle of corpses, and bloodied, dying children and young adults, Fourteen looked back towards her Handler.

”Did you want to talk to any of them, Father?” she began, licking a number of blood splatters from the back of her hand, and gesturing to one of the fallen, surviving youths with the barrel of her gun. Her gaze flicked between the bodies, studying intently the rapid breaths of the soon to expire, and the steady spread of fresh blood across the mud-laden street, ”Or can I start… cleaning this up?”

The Promised Children : Eat, or Be Eaten

Number Fourteen

T I N D A L O S

• P h y s i c a l A g e •
Twelve

• G e n d e r I d e n t i f i e r •
Female

• D e s i g n a t e d L o c a t i o n •
United Kingdom

• P s y c h P r o f i l e •
+ Understanding + Empathetic + Genial

- Unstable - H U N G E R - Immature

* Control * Consume * Canonise

• U n i q u e T r a i t s & A b i l i t i e s •
Hound of Tindalos | Number Fourteen wields a power of transformation. Intrinsically tied to their bottomless hunger, the desire to feed eventually reaches a tipping point within them, typically after two weeks. At its culmination, they lose control of themself, twisting and mutating into a vile, unfathomable abomination of a creature. In part an effect of Fourteen's own lack of control over their ability, this bestial visage is driven by an insatiable desire to feed, up until the point that its hunger is more than satiated. Simply by existing, The Hound distorts and corrupts reality around it. Its wounds regenerate at an exceptional degree, to the point where they appear to have never been inflicted in the first place; human entities that view it are driven mad by the vicissitudes between it and the material world; and the world bends across its form, allowing it to exist at every point in space simultaneously, and materialise at any single one. Thick, acrid, pale yellow smoke pours from the gaps in reality, obscuring vision and choking living creatures into unconsciousness, before The Hound mutilates the body, and exsanguinates it.

Fourteen can delay this involuntary transformation for a short period by consuming flesh prior to the breaking point, up to a maximum of an additional two weeks. The transformation must always happen, but can be limited to once a month this way. Alternatively, the state can be artificially induced, by Fourteen starving themself, though this takes time, and the number of days necessary to occur can fluctuate heavily.

In addition, as compensation for being unable to utilise their Miracle at will, and a measure in safety until their mastery properly develops, Number Fourteen has been trained in a number of combat methods, including but not limited to martial and firearm proficiency.
___________________________
A p p e t i t e L v l :: 5

The Marchand Academy of Sorcery

Serafina Julial Emeri Archangrad

Basic Information

---

Full Name:

Serafina Julial Emeri Archangrad

Nicknames/Aliases:

Sera, The Lady Honourable Seraphina

Age:

16

Gender:

Female

Characterisation

---

Description:

A girl on the shorter side, rounding to around five feet and three inches in total, Serafina is scarcely an imposing figure. She's lithe, physically demure, and closer to a child than someone halfway into their teenage years, with a cascade of white-blonde hair, often braided in places, that tumbles to the small of her back. Her wardrobe does no favours to associating her as anything but a little girl - her clothes aren't formal, though they aren't necessarily casual either, thus creating an odd dichotomy, comprised of dresses, skirts, blouses, jackets, and cardigans. The only evidence to the contrary would be her face - pale skin, framing a pair of inquisitive and piercing violet eyes, just above an almost omnipresent, wry smirk - and a set of bandages, wound around her left hand at all times.

As a core of her Runic prowess, Serafina's body is dotted with numerous white ink tattoos, specially inscribed by the Archangrad Patriarch, for the purposes of physical enhancement. Core and Active Ermas Runes for stamina and endurance, Active Phorin Runes for physical strength, Active Ullun Runes for better hearing and eyesight. She also possesses a special Penumbra, personally designed by Serafina, consisting of two Core Ennad Runes, and a Core Phorin Rune, with a trigger set to activate only when in physical contact with a living creatures flesh, inscribed on her left palm, which electrocutes the target for as long as the Rune is in contact. Each of these Penumbra has a specific trigger, usually touch, though some use keywords in German, and are devised to last exactly one minute before deactivating.

Brief History:

The Archangrad family itself is an old English family, stemming back over a thousand years, to the times of the Viking Raids on England. A Noble line, and friends of the royal court, who took to adapting the Scandinavian Runic system of Futhark into something more usable. Their status in England at the time, and over the years, granted them safety in magical pursuits, despite the practices and research going against the Catholic worship rooted in society. At one time, the system that would become Dunama closely resembled the symbols, translation, and casting methods of Elder Futhark. With the years, the family took to recreating the script from the ground up - establishing new symbols, new definitions, and new inscription methods to improve upon the original.

By the time of the war, the Dunama system of Runecraft was at its most refined in a thousand years. On the frontlines of the conflict, as offence based Runesmiths, were the Patriarch of the House, Alistair Manstein Rentramar-Ostinn Archangrad, and The Lady Olympia Emeri Archagrad. Over the course of the three years, new Penumbra were developed, Antan, the Rune of Expansion, was devised, and through Dunama some of the most complex Runic Tapestries were created, and turned on the Cult. By the end, though, The Lady Olympia was killed, leaving behind three children.

Serafina Archangrad, first born child to the Archangrad Patriach, Alistair, and his Lady, Olympia, could be considered the favourite child of the family. With the course of the war, and the untimely death of The Lady Olympia, only a single child to act as heir to the family legacy could be born. Alistair, uncertain about teaching his daughter the same magic that led to both his and his wife's involvement in the war, initially attempted to keep her ignorant to magic as a concept. His parents, though, members of the family who had continued to refine the Dunama System, pushed against his reluctance, to strong arm him into continuing the legacy of the families Runecraft.

As compromise, Alistair placed Serafina under the personal tutelage of his mother, Alessandra Emeri Archangrad, and former Matriarch to the House. The regiment placed upon Serafina was a difficult and gruelling one. As the sole child to inherit the family name, and magic, it was expected of her to both master the art, and continue to build upon it over the course of her life. Days were spent studying, honing her logical reasoning and memory, with intermittent, brutal combat training, to test the extent of her skill. She had to memorise Runic Equations, and create Penumbra from scratch, without references, to ensure her fundamental understanding of the symbolism to each Rune. All the whiles, Alessandra kept the nature of the training under wraps from Alistair, as a form of punishment for his former refusal to teach his daughter. Defence and Healing magics were applied to keep her wounds at bay from combat, while she was forbidden to speak of the training outside the confines of Alessandra's home.

Sometime down the line, Alistair came to be aware of the treatment his daughter had been subjected to. Furious with his mother, he dragged Serafina from their home, and severed her tutelage with them. It had been one thing to brutalise his enemy combatants on the fields of war, but to understand that his daughter had been put through a similar suffering, at no choice of his own, reawakened the intense reluctance to involve his daughter in anything magical. That reluctance grew into sheer over-protectiveness, to moments where Serafina was forbidden to leave the grounds of the family homestead, in fear that she may be assaulted whilst away.

The invitation to The Marchand Academy of Sorcery forced something within the Patriarch to rekindle. The anxiety and fear never left, but the desires of his wife returned - before her death, one wish she had always longed for was the chance to teach her daughter magic. Still not yet comfortable, but now equally ashamed to be letting down The Lady Olympia, he elected to have her educated. He himself couldn't do it, and only over his dead body would Alessandra lay her hands on Serafina again. Thus, he chose to send her to the Academy - along with the offer of a hefty donation, to ensure his daughters safety.

Personality:

Serafina is an arrogant girl, though not without good reason. Although she seldom undervalues the prowess others in the magical field possess, she always believes her own to be either at an equal or greater level. The backing of an accomplished family, and the ability to wield a well regarded and powerful system of magic, allow that confidence and arrogance to sustain itself. Serafina has spent a great deal of her life, studying and training, all to reach the spot on which she stands. Stereotypical though it may seem, it is as such that she bears a minor grudge towards those that came into using the Primary Magic naturally, like a small wound ever present on her pride.

In equal amounts Sera's social skills are below average at best. As part of a Noble House that has persisted for a thousand years, keeping its status both impeccable and respected, she was educated formally and properly on acting as a Lady. However, with the majority of her life spent training, studying, or locked inside thanks to her father's paranoia, she never received a workable opportunity to develop her conversational skills. She's poor at making friends, bad at reading subtle signals in body language and speech, brash in her own dialogue and insensitive at the best of times. Her efforts have always been spent developing the skills she lacked, but with no chance to recognise the error in her own attitude, she has made no such effort.

Serafina also bears an infallible drive to learn. What time she has, if possible, is spent researching, studying, practising, and developing. She looks down on those that are lazy, and those that don't seem to care, as a scorn to her own ambitions. Work and effort brought her to her level of skill, and for no one does she intend to deviate from her course.

Crush:

Open

Dunama, Runecraft of Potentiality

---

Primary:

Runecraft

Secondaries of Interest/Secondaries:

Levitation and Magical Infusion

Skills:

• The Dunama Runic System is especially geared towards quick and efficient inscription, with the exist of its Penumbra system. Serafina was trained extensively in Penumbra inscriptions, which consist of usually no more than three components per Penumbra, and her speed is seldom matched.
• As first born of the Archangrad family's next generation, it was imperative that their heir be not only astute, but rational. To deal with the great workload that she was set upon with, Sera had no choice but to learn quickly - to memorise every Rune, and the Chains they created, as well as the logical ability to create a working Penumbra without an example. She readily picks up new concepts as a core of her education, and is a rather intelligent young girl.
• The name of the Runic game has always been variety. With access to nearly the whole repertoire of her system, the sheer number of magical effects she can generate are astounding.
• Paired with varying physical enhancement Runes, such as Ermas, or Phorin, Serafina is a force to be reckoned with with close quarters combat. If anything, she favours it, over the other potential combat methods available to Rune Casters.

Weaknesses:

• Though versed in them, Sera is hardly as adept at more utility based Chains as she is at combative ones. She lacks the proficiency with the various support and enchantment based inscriptions, which she aims to improve upon diligently.
• Without Runic empowerment, Serafina is hardly the strongest person out there. Her physical enhancement Runes take time to activate, and usually aren't triggered at the start of a fight to conserve her energy, and while she has other skills to deal with sudden, head on assaults, somebody who can make it past that defence may find an easy time in defeating her.
• As a Lady though she was raised, Sera's people skills leave something to be desired. There is more than a certain arrogance that comes with her family name and prowess, and one that she has yet to rid herself of.
• Over the course of her life, Sera's desire to train and hone her own skills has become an unhealthy obsession. In part due to the regiment set upon her by the Archangrad family, she has to as much and more as those around her.

Miscellaneous

---

Other:

TBD

Dunama, The Runecraft of Family Archangrad

Dunama is a personalised Runic System, devised by the Archangrad Family as a method of setting themselves apart in the magical community, with a name derived from the Greek word Dunamis, meaning power, or potential. It is a Single Symbol Runic Chain system, similar to systems like Futhark, but with some key differences that set it aside. Specifically, its lack of a Merkstave exemplar, and the Penumbra system.

Each individual Rune, typically, has two main exemplars associated with it - a Core, and an Active. When a Rune is Activated, by being placed in contact with a Pala Rune in a Chain, the Rune loses its Core effect, and transitions to its Active one, effectively changing the meaning of the Rune. An Active Rune can only be found in a Rune Chain (two or more Runes in sequence, activating together), directly connected to a Pala, or Power, Rune. It has often been stated that the system appears like a molecular structure, due to the way Runes scatter off from a centre Rune.

The Penumbra system is a fluid inscription method, derived from the word Penumbra - from the Latin Paene and Umbra, or almost shadow. It allows small Rune Chains, up to a maximum of three symbols, to be inscribed as a single symbol, by combining elements of each. This drift from rigid inscription methods makes Dunama a fearsome combative Runic System, as single symbol inscription saves a great deal of time when launching an offensive Chain. An example of this might be the combination of Harad, the Rune of Ice, and Ermas, the Rune of Progress, to create a Rune of Stasis, which can freeze projectiles in the air when they approach the caster, or halt decay and corruption for a time.

Below the Rune List is a very rough sketch of each of the 15 symbols. They're a lot more refined and better inscribed IU, but I've got a fuck unsteady hand and only so much patience for repeatedly drawing symbols to find a good one.

Rune List

Pala - The Rune of Power:

Core: A state of Potential. When combined with any other Rune, Pala amplifies its effects, in turn activating them. In chains with multiple Runes, only those that are directly in contact with the Pala Rune are amplified, and thus it is often at the centre of a circle of Runes when inscribed.

Forod - The Rune of Fire

Core: A state of flame. Inscription and triggering of the Forod Rune can cause things to combust violently, but it can be tempered to a small flame, or even just the release of heat.

Active: A state of the Sun, the Activated Rune takes on multiple different meanings. It can be used to denote kind warmth and radiance, but also scorching heat, purification, light, and healing.

Harad - The Rune of Ice

Core: A state of cold, the Rune is occasionally used to lower body temperatures, or simply cool down hot areas. It's most typical use, though, is the rapid solidification of water molecules into ice, most often offensively.

Active: A state of defence, combined with protective Rune Chains to amplify the protection.

Rhun - The Rune of Air

Core: A state of force, Rhun has its uses in creating barriers and forcefields of solid air. Skilled Chaining allows for minor telekinetic extensions, but it is most typically utilised for creating heavy blasts of air, or generating strong winds to lock off areas in combat.

Active: A state of freedom. It can be used as the foil to the Cannes and Collad Runes, but also has connotations in transparency, divinity and redirection. It acts as a lesser healing Rune to an Active Forod, but can also be used for localised invisibility and intangibility. During the war, skilful wielders created Chains that allowed them and their attacks to completely bypass barriers without destroying them, though the cost of such Chains is hefty. It is also the only Active Rune that increases agility, making it much more potent effect than Ermas and Ennad.

Annun - The Rune of Earth

Core: A state of dirt and stone. It can be used to fertilise soil, or rearrange terrain, but it is more favoured for creating obstacles, and attacking an enemy from their blindspot - below.

Active: A state of foundation. It can be used to reinforce and solidify structure, and applied as a kind of "glue" in Rune Chains, to prevent the destabilisation of uncommon Penumbra.

Ermas - The Rune of Progress

Core: A state of flow. It allows for things to be transferred more easily, and grants fluidity to the things it is inscribed upon. Among its effects are increased agility when inscribed on a physical being, as well as automation for non-living objects, like clockwork devices.

Active: A state of endurance. The Ermas Runes Activation is one of the most commonly applied, as it can be used for a number of different applications. Such as, improving ones stamina, or increasing the stopping power of projectiles, or physical attacks. It can be altered with Phorin to destroy barriers, and is believed to be capable of a metaphysical effect that helps a wielder overcome obstacles.

Ennad - The Rune of Lightning

Core: A state of storm. The Rune itself merely creates electricity, but combined with other Runes in a Chain, it can cast a wide array of fulgarkinetic spells, creating chaining lightning, or paralytic traps. It doubles with the Ermas Rune to increase agility.

Active: A state of chaos. An Active Ennad Rune wreaks havoc on the things it is inscribed upon, and is almost exclusively used for combat, though it has demolition uses. A very common application is combining it with the Rhun Rune inscribed onto a handheld object to create improvised vacuum grenades.

Malenn - The Rune of Energy

Core: A state of absorption. The Malenn Rune stores energy inside of itself, to be expended at a later time. Not an especially useful, or widely used, Rune, but in certain Chains, such as the Sol Stone, it has its niche.

Active: A state of decay. A truly amplified form of its Core state, the Active Malenn Rune consumes the things it's inscribed upon at such a rate that it destroys them. It can be used to weaken objects, or people, and even annihilate spells altogether when used properly.

Phorin - The Rune of Strength

Core: A state of physical improvement. One of the most commonly applied Runes due to its sheer number of applications. The Phorin Rune improves physical might, and improves the effectiveness of physical attacks. It is one of the few Runes to lack an Active state.

Cannes - The Rune of Contract

Core: A state of binding. It typically takes the form of linking two things together, such as in the case of the Sol Stone, which attaches itself to the inscriber.

Active: A state of imprisonment. Used only in extreme, or malicious, circumstances. The Active Cannes Rune creates unbreakable bonds between parties, or items, akin to Quantum Entanglement. Combined with the Collad Rune it can force people into obeying commands laid out on a signed contract, or combined with certain other Penumbra can create death pacts, or blood wagers.

Collad - The Rune of Command

Core: A state of obedience. A rather weak Rune that requires direct inscription on a living beings body, but can make people or creatures more likely to follow orders that the inscriber gives. It is one of few Runes to lack an Active state.

Ullan - The Rune of Fortification

Core: A state of empowerment. Unlike the Pala Rune, which strengthens other Runes, the Ullan Runes makes physical things more potent. It can enhance the strength of an object to make it more durable, or be applied directly to a living being, to improve their hearing, eyesight, or various other biological processes. It is an all purpose Rune, generally applied to a lot of enchantments to ensure the durability of the object at hand, but it has its uses in combat.

Merrad - The Rune of Refinement

Core: A state of focus, Merrad is extremely often inscribed on the scalp of a living creature. It sharpens the mind, allowing for faster thinking and reflex speeds, as well as normalising ones mood, eliminating fear, anxiety, anger, sadness, and everything in between. In some circumstances it can inscribed elsewhere, such as on candles, to give the smoke calming properties.

Lerrad - The Rune of Life

Core: A state of rejuvenation. The Lerrad Rune promotes growth in plant life, and represents one of the lesser healing aspects under the Sun. It can be used to fertilise soil and assist the growth of both plant and animal life, and has applications in increased fertility for both animals and humans alike.

Active: A state of epoch. A relatively weak Rune, an Active Lerrad on its own acts as a death ward, to prevent one from death in the face of mortal damage. It has minor necromantic connotations, primarily in the preservation of corpses and immunity to decay, but its most common application is as a Penumbra combined with an Active Malenn Rune, to create a Rune of Death, which can be applied to numerous Chains, such as Death Bonds with the Cannes Rune.

Antan - The Rune of Expansion

Core: A state of multiplication, the Antan Rune is an incredibly unique, specially coded Rune, devised during the War to compensate for inscription times on longer Rune Chains. The Antan Rune would be placed, encoded, and triggered, and over a period of time roughly equal to half the standard inscription cost, it would magically inscribe additional Runes into the surfaces nearby. By the end, the Rune destroyed itself, leaving behind a fully formed Runic Equation, ready to be triggered as per its specifications. The Rune itself is expensive to manage, and completely nonviable for smaller Rune Chains, but for large scale traps or grand operations, it makes production time manageable.

The Marchand Academy of Sorcery

@EchoicChamber From my understanding, the Merkstave state in a Rune is just its reverse, no? In Futhark, it's represented by the Rune being turned upside down in inscription. Just wondering why that in particular is considered off limits, considering the reversal of Runes is a fairly intrinsic concept in a lot of different Runic systems, such as the aforementioned Futhark.

The Marchand Academy of Sorcery

I could do with something different than I'm used to to get me back into writing properly. Might as well give this a shot, especially when Runecraft is an option that I'm basically being actively encouraged to take.

Quick question, though, is this being limited to Elder Futhark as a system? Cause I totally feel like banging my head against a wall and making my own, respective of the two component process already outlined, if that's a feasible option.

Danganronpa Alternate: Apologies to Hope (Reboot) [Deader than Disco]

and

As much time as Shirou had been allowed to spend, near enough alone, thinking, meditating, the days that passed had begun to wear on him. Izo spent his days pointlessly and repetitively, as though stuck in an endless loop, day in and day out. On the surface of things, Shirou was hardly one to judge. In many ways, his own days were fairly repetitive, and with the limited options for activity in the camp, all that truly remained was to fruitlessly investigate, and explore the various relationships he had with his fellow captives.

Grateful though he was for the chance to sit near enough idle, thinking and considering the avenues and threads of suspicion he held towards the Killing Game, the constant attachment to Izo left Shirou more than slightly irritated. The Fanatic sat in the forest, or the field, for hours on end, meditating and praying, only to leave for the bathroom, or something to eat, and return shortly after. Then Izo would take his leave to their shared room, remain awake for hours in the dark praying still, fall asleep, and wake up again to do the same thing again the next day.

In a certain sense, Shirou could respect the dedication Izo held towards his faith. It resonated with him, on an intrinsic level. But at the same time, Shirou cursed it - both his own dedication, his training regiment and drive to heroism, and at the same time Izo’s own rigid religious practices. The latter refused to bend. Suggestions to investigate some more, or interact with the other Ultimates, was met with the same, stubbornly deterministic perspective. That they would murder each other, with nothing to be done about it. The attitude was grating, and though and his soul Shirou desired deeply the capacity to appreciate and accept his fellows, being anchored to Izo day in and day out, with nary an avenue for escape, gnawed at his resolution ceaselessly.

No chances to explore his curiosities. No chances to develop further friendships with others. And no chances to smooth over the lingering resentments sparked in the first few days that Shirou knew everyone. A sensation of dread had loomed on him from the beginning, but even three days in, his patience was tested again and again, pulling at the walls of his resolve. Each day he wanted to shout at Izo, or command him to move somewhere with more people, and each day Shirou swallowed it down, reluctantly allowing it to fester. In his mind, it would do no good to create conflict with the person he was restrained to for who knew how much longer.

The morning of the scream came to pass. As with every prior morning, Shirou had awoken early - four thirty in the morning, sharp - spent thirty minutes warming up, disconnected himself from Izo, and took his twenty minutes of freedom to exercise outdoors, with another twenty indoors, chain reattached. It robbed him each day of the chance to interact, and to build further bonds, but at his core, the regime was something Shirou could never bring himself to break. Izo had awoken, too, an hour after, as Shirou finished up his warm down stretches. The monotonous regime continued. Each showered in turn, and the prayer began once more. Over the course of the days, Shirou had taken to writing notes, in a notebook Lilly had brought from her lab. Possible motives, general ideas, scribbles, drawings, and other theories - all to pass the time over the day.

The scream came suddenly. While Shirou dropped his book, leapt to his feet, and made his way to the door, struggling against the cable to look out of his partners room, which the fanatic had insisted the two stay in, Izo himself remained still. His left eye opened halfway, glancing half curiously, half nonchalantly, towards Shirou’s sudden reaction, with little indication of his own that he intended to arise. Shirou craned out of the door, scanning along the path leftways of the cabin, towards the direction of the cry, for any indication of whose room it came from. And, frustrated, by his lack of information, and lack of freedom, he turned back to look at Izo.

”You plan on moving at all?” he called back to the listless Fanatic, making little effort to conceal a deep seated, underlying passive aggressiveness,”Somebody out there needs some help - you just gonna sit on your ass through this too, or can I have your permission to do my job?”

Izo made no effort. To pay attention, to get up, to even acknowledge the scream from just moments prior. His half open gaze fell shut once again, bathing him in the darkness, and near silence, that accompanied it. In the camp, surrounded by Ultimates chained to the self proclaimed Hero of Justice, the darkness of his own closed eyes was one of the few places that Izo felt was right. Everything outside of it was non-conforming, and most definitely inconsistent, and everyone in it clung to weak, poorly functioning rationales. The boy in front of him beheld every stereotype to that inclination that Izo could even begin to think of. Relentlessly optimistic, grasping at straws of altruism while ignoring the bigger picture of the Killing Game at large. The last few days had been magnitudes worse than uncomfortable.

”’Permission’, really?” Izo returned, casually blinking open a pair of cold, brown eyes, ”You wake up every morning, waste away your twenty minutes of freedom, and then get angry at me for it? I always knew you were a fool, but not an idiot. Y’know, it’s honestly a little hard to tell: do you actually believe this whole hero shit, or is it just to make other people ignore your stupidity?”

With a step of disbelief, Shirou edged back into the room from the crest of the doorway, the door itself still ajar, filtering crisp, cool air into the cabin proper. Golden eyes, conflicted in concern, anger, and shock, met Izo’s stoic gaze. Some portion of Shirou found comfort in the Fanatic’s words, that his own pent up frustration was not without merit, but the feeling quickly found itself consumed by that very same anger. Some things he was willing to tolerate. The wilful abandonment of someone in need was not one of them.

He took a series of steps forward, until the two were some five feet apart. ”I’m not going to play this game with you,” Shirou said, keeping his composure temperate as best as possible, ”Hero or not, humans are meant to have this thing called empathy - when others are in trouble, you help them. Not for reward, or the completion of some arbitrary goal, but for the sake of dece-”

His words were cut off prematurely, with the crackle of a monitor, springing to life on his left. Shirou head spun on a dime, attention utterly relocated, while Izo glanced at the thing from his periphery. Silence filled the room once more, but not the kind that Shirou had hoped for. It was a palpable silence, tangible and heavy, as Monokuma spoke the words that Izo had waited multiple days to hear. A body had been discovered. No doubt, Shirou reasoned, where the scream had just echoed from. The two turned back to each other, gazes deadlocked to the others face.

”What do you know?” Izo lightly chuckled to himself, as he pulled the handcuffs from his wrist, and tossed it to the floor, ”No need to flay myself. Mind telling Taya ‘I told you so’ while you’re out and about?”

A sudden, overwhelming urge for violence welled up within Shirou’s chest. The pull to grab Izo by the collar, push him to the wall, and beat him within an inch of his life. He had no confirmation that anybody was really dead, but in his heart, Shirou could feel it - that something was truly wrong. And for Izo to act so casually, jovially almost, in the face of it, the frustration that he had taken care not to allow out for multiple days threatened to take over. Instead, Shirou pulled his own cuffs off, and dropped them to the ground. He made his way to the door, grabbing the baseball bat as he walked, and glanced back towards Izo.

”Nobody cares if you were correct. If you’re not going to work with the group, you’ll always be wrong. No matter what.”

Without leaving an option for response, Shirou took off in a sprint, baseball bat clutched in his right hand. He had spent an hour recently exercising already - the hot water of a shower had helped in part, but the pain of his still healing gunshot wound was pronounced. The searing pain couldn’t, though, match Shirou’s unbridled resolve. Already he had proved his speed - barely ten seconds had passed by before he had arrived at the congregation, outside the cabin of Fukuda Naomi, the Ultimate Linguist. A brief moment passed as he approached, as Shirou ran through his memory. She was sharing a room with Snow. Likely one of them was dead.

Shirou counted the people already present from outside, as he quickly walked up to the entrance: Chikako, Ayu, Hiroki, Taka. As Taka stumbled back from the doorway, Shirou slipped past him, and everyone else, to cross the threshold of the cabin. Snow, Ryuma. And his eyes trailed the cable, now detached from Snow’s wrist, up to the bed, where he laid eyes upon Naomi. A second of processing passed, while Shirou laid the bat against the frame of the door.

”Ryuma, help Snow to her feet and take her outside,” he instructed calmly, and walked past the two, up to the bed, scanning the room, and taking in the details of the body. Naomi was obviously dead: throat slit, eyes unfocused, skin cold to the touch. He sighed, ”If some of you can go and round up the others, that would be appreciated. We can begin the investigation once everyone is in one place. And if any of you see Lilly, tell her that I would like to talk to her.”