yoshua171

Essence of the World: The New Age [CLOSED]

Most darkness is bad, but at least not all of it is~ *winks*

The Prophecy

You may be waiting quite some time. I know I'on was....

Essence of the World: The New Age [CLOSED]

Laughter is in the word Slaughter. Just sayin'.

Essence of the World: The New Age [CLOSED]

Falair Ver Akan Sa'eyeis
The Madhatter

Kenan - Midtown - An Outlaw Bunker
Midday

_Theme

---

Hunt-ing time~ the hatter's eyes said, gleaming white in a random corner of Kenan. He had extricated himself again, but this time, he was hungry. As a human passed through the alleyway and its delectable foot made contact with the shadow of one of its walls, the human found itself shredded and pulled into the blackness.

There'd not even been a scream. Omnom nomom, Falair sung in his head, his eyes bobbing back and forth in the darkness. Then something wonderful happened, a small gang of humans, angels, and demons strutted into the alley.

From what he could tell they were heading to a gathering, and with this their fates were sealed. Oh this will be such fun, he thought, talking to himself inside his pretty little head, perhaps today I'll earn some friends, what do you think?

In the black scape of Falair's mind a clown face turned towards another, one that was no clown at all, but instead had closed eyes and a fairly apathetic demeanor about it. There was no response, you're no fun, lordling!

His attention turned again to his hunters prey, whom he had now become the shadows of. A light joyful feeling would begin to ever so gradually enter them, both mind and body.

Each step would end in a light jaunt of elation and soon enough, drunk on the feeling, they all broke into a sprint and swiftly arrived at their little bunker. Ohh this was so fantastic!

"Daenin, who're these punks?" A large man asked one of the fellows at the front, an angel--surprisingly.

"New recruits a' course. 'Cha think I'd bring here, a bunch of stray dogs? Fuckin' idiot," he motioned to his posse and they pushed past the bouncer and down the stairs leading to the basement of the building. Tin tin, drink them in, la la, turn them off, the hatter began to sing, the sound slowly entering the minds of the posse. They all began to hum only a minute afterwards. Trai trai, cut out their eye, Sen sen, behead them, none of them seemed to notice the lyrics they were singing.

The basement was fairly well lit and as they entered a cacophony of voices drowned out the quiet singing of the group that the Nightwalker had come in with.

His shadow began to spread.

Suddenly the place quieted down as a microphone of some sort was tapped and the screen at the far end of the room, one that filled up the entire wall, suddenly flashed white, then red and blue. Everyone turned to face the monitor, which then displayed a hollow circle, with two black eyes and a snake for a tongue curling outwards and over the circle's edge, where it then twirled up and around what looked to be a tattered wing. On the other side there was a horn. "Drel drel, yer goin ta hell~" Falair whisper-sang as another voice reached out through the crowd, addressing them all.

He even felt several of his own kind in the room. Nightwalkers and Shades and Sullicitus. He licked his lips, for by now his body had formed, having donned a wonderfully colorful top hat, a monocle on one eye, and a chain made from bones extracted from various beings--animals, demons, humans, and angels all included. He wore a purple vest and a multicolored tie whose primary colors were orange and green. His pants were plaid of blue and black, and his shoes were those worn by medieval jesters.

He felt quite snazzy.

"You have been gathered here today, be you recruit or veteran of the Chaeris group, so that you can be initiated and informed of our next great goal. All whom leave today will depart not as individuals, but each as a representative of our noteworthy organization. Equipped with the full extent of your brother's and sister's might, and watched over by the great Char. You will go out to ready yourselves. However, if you leave now, there will be nothing for you." A dead silence fell as the voice's echo faded out.

Falair tilted his head, an intrigued look in his youthful white eyes. "What a delightful little gathering," Falair whispered to a human that stood just astride from him. The boy was barely seventeen, he'd wager, and took little notice of him, motioning for him to shut up, an annoyed look on his face. Falair's mouth opened wide in a form of shock, his eyes opened wide before the narrowed, his pupils vanishing completes and the whites of his eyes going pitch black. "Now now," his voice fluctuated from its typical height, to a lower pitch, gradually switching between them, though it began to settle upon the lower--more serious--tone. The human actually looked at this time, and upon doing so gasped before his neck was promptly crushed by Falair's hand. The human's body vanished completely and as others looked to see what the noise had been, there was nothing there to witness.

No blood, no human boy, no Falair.

Their attention turned back to the screen, which flashed again to gain their attention, beginning to display various graphics of what their plans would be, but Falair could not be bothered.

The Lordling was hungry.

Too hungry.

"We will start with the lower district of Kenan, the slums as many of you call them. We will start at the edges and create a quarantine," the announcer continued, but the Madhatter couldn't hear him anymore, the only sounds he could hear were his own singing and the beating of hundreds of hearts, all in the same room. Shrill, shrill, time to spill, Bloood bloood, it must floood. Frail frail, their bodies pale. Everyone in the room began to frown and turn about here and there every few moments, as if there was something they were straining to hear.

The announcer suddenly stopped, his sentence cutting off. "Lime, prime, time, dine." Another voice replaced the announcer and the screen gradually changed, blood dripping from the top and downwards across it. The insignia changed first to a clown, then to a tophatted man. The tension in the room was palpable, it could've been cut with a knife, and people were beginning to push towards the exit despite the likelihood that leaving early would likely get them killed.

"Sorted heads and arms are done. Bowels bloody, eyes soaked, fun!" Various people in the crowd began to sing along, their neighbors turning to them in confusion and horror. Upon the singers' faces was plastered a look of manic happiness, as if all of them had been possessed by some insane doll demon. Their skin had paled, all color leaving them, and their eyes were rolled up in their heads. Their arms swung freely, uncontrolled as they jerked about, twitching as a gangrenous black liquid began to tear its way out of their flesh, and eyes.

The screaming finally started.

The screen began flashing rapidly from white to black even as all others lights were shattered, dimmed to nonexistence, or otherwise destroyed.

The few Nightwalkers, and their ilk, fled into shadows to escape in a futile attempt to salvage their lives. "Pale eyes, dead skin, bloody parties, murder din," they all sang, only one of each race left to witness the spectacle.

"The fuck is going on," the angel said to her demon counterpart as they pressed themselves against the wall and gradually made their way towards one of the more secret exits. "We didn't have anything to do with this," the demon spewed out, yelling over the singing so they could even hear one another. "I...I can't believe this, it's just...Unreal?" All three of them stopped, the human the most still of the three as right in front of them stood two figures, one a terrifying specter and the other a stoic human with white hair, white eyes, and black clothes.

"You should have run when you saw me," both said in perfect sync.

Those were the last words the three heard before everything went black, their ears no longer able to register the chorus of voices all singing. "Fallen, falling, twisted minds. Too bad no one reads between lines. If they knew secrets still, I'd be gone, dead, laid still. Now they're here, both awake, the blood is spilled, pooled into a lake. No one ran, no one hid, all were eaten, no witnesses."

This would continue for several hours, escalating in volume with every minute.

---

The din became so loud that several dozen noise complaints were called in and eventually the police, followed swiftly by a SWAT team or ten, and a team of mages to boot. It took all of them to shut down the macabre concert, and even after they'd quelled the singers, the song continued, resonating through their minds for several minutes afterwards.

Some of those men and women would not go home that night.

Falair however went home nice and full. Both of him and Crow was none the wiser.

Kasain M've
The Doctor

Loom - Safehouse
Morning

---

Having argued and debated with Juan, while also assisting with his wounds and bandages despite the man's unwillingness to cooperate, Kasain's eyes immediately turned when Emmet awoke. However, he did not react otherwise and his eyes returned to Juan not a second after looking. When Juan finally reacted Kasain put one pair of his four arms on his hips and scowled. "Now now, why would you do that?" The pudgy misshapen demon scolded, trudging closer, but allowing Juan to remain between he and his patient for the moment.

"Almost died, and gets on its feet like it should even be awake!" The Doctor exclaimed this, his arms thrown into the air before lowering once more as he sighed with great exasperation. "You going to let me treat him now, you craven fool!?" He snapped at Juan, growing tired of his paranoid nature.

He was a doctor, and he'd be damned if he was not allowed to do his job. Or rather, Juan would be damned--in his opinion.

Essence of the World: The New Age [CLOSED]

The Master and his Son Kenen - Darius' Mansion Early Morning

Collab: Fallenreaper, yoshua171, Lucius Cypher, and Slade.

---

Darius had been caught by a few stray bullets, his suit's chest and jaw side caught in the crossfire. The tissue had been ripped through and now it was left unhinged as it hung there, bleeding. He hadn't bothered to bandaged it. What was the point when his muscles knitted themselves and it was just as it had been before. Even while he had mildly thought about it, his regeneration was already at work and by the time he arrived on scene it was already healed completely. His surprise was brief when it flickered across his face. Then it vanished. His eyes flickered in intensity and washed over the scene's chaos. The bodies that once littered the ground had all vanished, including the Kitsune which had been spotted wrecking hellish damage across his yard earlier. Chasing Juan naturally. Though he hadn't seen the result, he noted the chaos around and could draw his own conclusions which weren't very favorable. It would be rather clear his pact holder would note the conflict of emotions stirring within him. A unique sensation he hadn't felt since his early years with Szayeis. Even now he was trying to puzzle what he should feel for the Lord. Hate, hurt, or relief were all on the top spot of the list, fighting for his attention. He tightened his leash on his emotional conflict and hoped like hell he could keep it that way. At least until Szayeis vanished again. His legs cut the distance between him and the current figure he was approaching. Shoes clipped clapped hard on the surface with each step until he was nearly there, all the time something... filled him. A terrible familiarity he felt rise in his body like the years he served the Western Lord so long ago. A slight longing, mixed with his own fear, including a flicker of standing in hell with the Citadel's image in the distance and staring at with a sorrowful sensation before he shook his head. The image scattered from his thoughts. Just short, Darius stopped before the Western Lord and instinctively bowed. Though his mind was sharp and focused, his body wanted to tremble and quiver in fear. He quickly snapped upright to look at Szayeis. “Long time, no see Szayeis.” About one hundred and fifty years to be exact. Even as Darius arrived and surveyed the chaos ridden situations, Szayeis decided to listen to Kasain, small shadow replicas of himself, in actuality puppeted forms, driven by the essence of one of the many he had devoured in his life time, searched the mansion. When Darius approached and bowed, Szayeis glanced at him a moment, taking in a deep breath, his form solidifying and taking on shape and meaning. It was in this moment that he took on his favored human guise. stretching slightly and twisting his head from side to side as if to situate all his muscles properly. "Yes, it has been far too long, Darius," the lord's eyes gleamed, their irises white despite his otherwise human form. They remained just as piercing as they had been in his shadow state. He snapped his fingers and some of Darius' minions which had vanished upon his arrival, pulled into shadows, emerged from said shadows once more. Many of them were in a state of shock, though some remained unaffected by their time within the lord. His eyes turned back to Darius, "Shall we relocate? It is awfully uncomfortable here, and I imagine just as frustrating for you to look at the state of your abode," he said, not caring a terrible amount, but still preferring to regain his energy more before staying on his feet for long. He may have managed to extricate himself, but that did not mean he was back at the peak of his strength. Far from it, he knew he was vulnerable, but he would give no hints of such. Nonetheless, there were few safer places in the human world than with Darius, at least for one such as he, and for the moment he needed that safety--for no matter the amount of bravado he could use, his true status would not change. All that he could do was give the illusion of strength and hope few would notice. Darius watched with impassive eyes, his mind trying to slip back into old and forgotten habits. A difficulty when his mind kept flickering back to his nightmares. His head never moved from when Szayeis shifted into a familiar human guise, taking a moment to stretch out the kinks and rotate his muscles into working once more. Darius' eyes narrowed in suspicion for a moment then seemed to melt away. If there was something odd about the Western Lord, Darius didn't give any indications over what it was or seemed to have acknowledge it out loud. He had been raised for thirty-three years by the demon before him and learned a few things. When Szayeis spoke, Darius nodded in agreement. He stepped back and gestured Szayeis toward the mansion, ignoring the blunt hole created by Rhett, then discarded those few spared by his current guest. He had learned a long time ago to avoid Szayeis' attention was never to interest him. There was rare occasion and people he would risk his life willing for. The moment before they entered, Darius moved up front as he escorted Szayeis into the main entrance. He kept his stone like vision the whole time. It seemed some habits didn't die as easily, or merely took less time to slip into then he had considered originally. It didn't take much to instinctively allow his mind to drift into the forgotten numbness. Darius knew Szayeis would note the knick knacks on the tables. Pictures and images frozen in time of his life since coming to the surface, mostly pictures about Olivia, Aeris and himself were dominate. A few scattered and less impressive ones featured Emmet but those were merely for Olivia's sake and request. In moments he came to his office which he opened and shoved the shades into place. Immediately, almost complete and utter darkness surrounded the pair...leaving Darius' heart thumping rapidly. Ah, the smell of fear was potent, that was one thing he had always enjoyed about Darius, it was something he had cultivated in the boy. It made him smile slightly as he followed behind his adopted son. He began to hum lightly as they entered the mansion, his eyes scanning about so as to assure that he was aware of his surroundings. He saw a menagerie of pictures, the individuals within them mostly unfamiliar, except for one. Aeris. He noted the presence of two others, two whom looked related. However, he took particular interest in the young woman who was in many pictures with one of his favorite little playthings. While he, and the world, were on a timer, he did not intend to miss out on any fun that he could. Such was his way, as deranged and backwards as it may have seemed to most. He made a mental note so as to remember. When the two arrived in the Kitsune's office, and the shades were drawn, Szayeis' eyes were the only source of light for a moment. He chuckled lightly, his enhanced senses easily detecting the fox's heart rate, inducing further amusement in the lord as he took a seat on one side of the desk. "You're awfully quiet Darius, why is that...are you perhaps afraid of something?" He laughed again, this time somewhat louder before one of his shadows flicked on a source of light. As amusing as it was to bathe others, especially those close to him, in fear, he had business to attend and fear helped none when it came to mental clarity and apt prescience. Darius stood motionless. His body stiller then death, voided of any emotion he could manage on the outside. He knew it was impossible as Szayeis knew better and would feed off his inner fear, a fact that was a repeated factor in his life while under the demon's care. His golden eyes stared back to the twin sources of light within the room with a bravo of calm. Darius' hands tightened behind his back, hidden at how white they have become, while he tried to clear away the fear. Then again, Szayeis had proven repeatedly there were things worse then death. Much worse. His ears flickered and quietly watched, though the only light was Szayeis' eyes. He flinched when Szayeis' laughter seemed to echo around him, louder when Darius caught the sight of something stir at his left. He allowed a longer pause then spoke. “Isn't that what you taught me to be? Afraid? I believe that is very likely the only reason I live to this day. Why you didn't kill me or allow me to break the pact in my youth, giving you something to feed off and...“ Darius closed his muzzle. His eyes narrowed on the Western Lord before him. The lord's smile did not fade as Darius spoke and he made no immediate response, though his eyes did seem to gleam slightly even in the now lit room. Darius knew Szayeis well enough to tell what the look meant. It was perhaps the closest thing the demon could be to proud of someone else. It was a form of satisfacation, and given its source, it was a twisted sort. He truly had sculpted this one well, as he had many others, though perhaps somewhat less sucessfully. Then again, he had molded them in different ways and thus had not expected the same results. After all, he wasn't insane, just utterly beyond human reason. "So, I presume you're curious as to why I have been gone so long, yes? Don't answer that," he stated, glancing away a moment as he no longer cared about the fox's response. Gathering his thoughts a moment and turning his eyes back to Darius, a serious look came about his face before he continued, his tone matching his expression, "Moving on, do you recall what I told you all those years ago in regards to a certain Tyrant: The Chimeric Lord?" Szayeis' white eyes were steady, watching the Kitsune, waiting for a response. “I know you well enough to know you never do something without a reason. Rarely, sadly, is that it's ever clear,” Darius answered, softly, though he knew the Lord had moved onto the next question. He went silent when he noted the glowing eyes look on him again, his defense once more his strength as he bore through his lingering fear. His head nodded. “Both the one watered down version you told me as a boy and the one before your departure. Something has changed, that much I'm very aware of, and since you've brought this up, I assume they are connected?” He nodded, acknowledging Darius' response. His eyes roved about the room a moment before settling on his hands, and then glancing slowly back up to the demon as he spoke. "The Chimeric Lord has another name, two really. The first is Inaniae...and the second," his white eyes met with Darius' own, cutting through him. There was not a shred of amusement or pleasure in Szayeis' voice, as if he were bereft of emotion, "...is Void." Darius' eyes held their place, though he was sure his sockets were stinging, when he heard the word uttered from the Lord's lips. His heart twisted and jerked to a halt for a moment when none of the earlier amusement was present. It was cold and blank, like a wall staring back at him. “And he's the one that was...” He let it trail off. This was becoming a habit he wasn't use to or enjoyed, his teeth gritted against his jawline while his mind tried to absorbed the thoughts. When he was first told the story, he was young and the story gave him nightmares while he mended. Now those nightmares had become far worse... Darius tightened his spine, his eyes never moved, then spoke. “What changed and how?” He was sure, however, the struggle to control his fear was palpable. For once, the lord's look softened, and an uncharacteristically gentle smile formed on his features. The strangest thing about it was that it was that the expression held no deception, it was honest. "Nothing changed, this is how it has always been, I just felt no reason to tell you. I thought I could win on my own, but it seems time is something I no longer have a wealth of," the smile slowly melted from his face, replaced once more with a serious gaze. There was an almost sad look in his eyes and to Darius, who knew him so well, there would be the slightest hint of anger at a battle lost. "I managed to separate myself from Inaniae, though it is hardly a permanent solution. This will give us some time to prepare, for he will rise, and we must stop him. I may have to call on those who would otherwise wish to destroy me simply to prolong this world's existence." Szayeis put his face in his hands, pushing his hair back with them as he did so. He let out a long sigh. This was no trick, Szayeis did not intend to feed from this fear, for it was not fear he had created, but a fear deeper than anything he might muster. One could say there were worse things than death, but what was worse even than those things was the destruction of everything. The realization that not only were you going to die, but that every trace of your existence, every mark on the world, and every memory in those whom you knew, or who knew you, would be gone. Existential annihilation on all levels. If Inaniae got his way, that would be the result. Should they be unable to stop him, there would be no pain, no pleasure, no life, and no death. There would only be Void...and perhaps the gods if they were lucky. "I can smell your fear, and sense the tension in your bones. I do not care today. Today you may show weakness and I will not punish you for it," he knew that the boy would not believe him, but he said it all the same. For while he did not show it, he had the same fear that anything did. He feared not existing. Darius' ears pinned back slightly, though he was surprised they didn't jerk in reaction to Szayeis' words. It was times like this that he had difficulty telling which side was real. The Szayeis staring back at him today or the demon from his memories, both which seemed to have shifted back and forth so wildly that even he had trouble determining the answer. For several moments he stood there. Letting the fear and tension settle before he dared to summon a fox. The creature melded from the shadows then stalked forward, its teeth reached for a chair back and then dragged it forward, coming to stop at Darius' position. He absentmindedly patted the creature's head while he took a seat. He had to make his body stop the habits he had grown up with. Without considering the future conflict and problems his actions were about to incur, he let his mind think over what would happen and his next move. Part of him wanted to toss a fit about the room, shattering glass and tear the place apart until it looked like a tornado hit but that only wasted time and energy. Factors they didn't have, he reminded himself. Inhaling a slow, long breath he raised upright in his seat. He had barely noticed his head had slouched down and nearly into his knee, his mind trying to wrap about the dread filling him inside though bitterly it wasn't from Szayeis. “Do you know how to beat him?” A small smile formed on his face, just one of amusement, there was no real malice there, "Right to the point I see," he chuckled lightly, but his smile soon faded and he began to stare at the floor in front of him as he contemplated the problem. "He is too strong for even I to face alone and triumph, I admit..." there was a frown on his features, indicating his dislike of the thought. "A certain hunter knows as well, and I'm sure has already begun mobilizing some kind of plan." Szayeis looked up, meeting Darius' eyes as he continued, "However, merely destroying him will not be enough, he must be banished from this realm, or he will merely return again. To do that...the part of him that dwells in me, and any remaining fragments of his essence, must be removed." He smiled slightly and shook his head, glancing away once more. His behavior would seem strange, uncharacteristic, but then again the entire situation was odd, now wasn't it? Darius didn't like the fact Szayeis seemed to be at peace with this situation, a matter that stirred something he wished was gone. Loyalty. Something the Kitsune thought had faded when the demon vanished and realize the bitter truth had been far from it. “Sadly I've never been one to sit idle and let a problem slip away, unsolved that is. At least not since after Judas' War, after you took your absence. ” His reference was to what Szayeis had witness, though the hint was subtle enough. Darius would've have ever considered getting close to anyone again if the Western Lord had watched over his back and it was because of his family, he began to care that the world ended. Again he pushed his mind into the problem as he had done many times before. “Extracting what pieces are you and what are... him,” Darius said in a low, acidic tone, “will take a lot of energy from you. More then you likely have since separation.” The Kitsune placed his muzzle in his hand, fingers folded and cradling his chin. He seemed to be conflicted with himself over his next decision until reason finally won out. Darius knew he would suffer the consequences later. “There is something I can do. Something I think might help, both in boosting your power and anchor you here possibly. However, there's something that must be done first before I can use it...” Abruptly, Darius rose from his chair and approached Szayeis until he stood reasonably close. Part of him was screaming at his stupidity, risking his life and existence on a pure chance the Western Lord wouldn't simply consume him. “It needs to be activated by touch. As well as it requires...trust.” With that said, Darius held his breath while reaching out his hand toward Szayeis. The lord's eyes rose to regard the demon that was, for all intents and purposes, his adopted son. It was an odd feeling seeing him there, alive and well. Offerring his help, his loyalty, despite the likelihood that he could be deceived, or simply destroyed by the very one he now offered his help. This was true loyalty, and it made him smile somewhat, it wasn't a grin though, more of a gentle expression rather. It was in this moment that Szayeis realized that some part of him valued Darius. He would continue to use him, it was his way, but the demon was beginning to tread in grounds that very few beings ever had. Perhaps if they survived this, given another hundred years, they could be friends...like he and Kasain...or perhaps not. Szayeis reached out and grasped the fox's hand with his own, as if to shake it, and his smile twisted slightly, the look in his eyes filling with a sort of sick amusement, "Why thank you, son, you are truly a loyal one. I value loyalty," then, seeming to take into mind intuitively what he must do, Szayeis accessed that which linked them, and pulled. First it was a harsh sensation that Darius would feel, giving Szayeis a fair chunk of pure essence, before it let up and became a slowly trickling stream. The lord squeezed Darius' hand and shook it once, then disengaged, smiling slightly. "Don't worry, I have no intention of killing you. Not any time soon," he said, rising from his chair once the demon backed off. The essence had helped, but he would need to hunt, and doing so would attract attention. He didn't care. Darius felt his heart stop, literally. Its beat went silent in his head and chest, his body locked in place while Szayeis' smile bore through him like a drill into wood. He felt like a nail shoot through his head as Szayeis reached for his essence storage in his cells from over the years. Fear soaked his mind and body yet he fought it, resist the notion to rip himself from Szaeyis' grip with all the will he had inside himself. Slowly the headache setting his insides on fire dulled into an empty, numbness making him relax. He felt the Lord break the connection when and feverishly hoped his trust wasn't misplaced. For all their sakes. He managed, in some fashion, to remain standing while the Western Lord spoke words that rattled in his ears. One which brought mixed feelings once more, both pain and relief, as he eyed Szayeis rise to his feet. He knew their business had concluded and in the back of his mind, Darius only prayed the world would survive. Under his breath, a familiar phrase passed softly in his muzzle and the truth he was forced to accept. “A tool is only as good as long as it serves its master, a lesson I've learned well enough.” In response, Szayeis chuckled, clapped Darius' on the shoulder, then turned and exited the office, calling back "Even a tool can become a person, whether that is wise or not is however, for you to decide." He began to hum to himself as he exited the mansion, small black wispy creatures emerging only from nearby shadows as he exited. One brought him a book, which caused him to raise an eyebrow and laugh slightly. "Ah Kasain, you never fail to amuse me," the lord said with a smirk before absorbing the book into his body, and vanishing into the next shadow. While he had pulled off returning for reasons entirely related to his, and the world's survival--though entirely for his sake--that didn't mean he intended not to enjoy himself. Besides, who said you couldn't have fun on the job?

]{Naruto: Jaded Ideals}[

So aside from Ganryu and Lost, is anyone else still around and willing to continue? Otherwise it seems this will need to come back another day after further edits.

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

As a note, I am still around, just rather busy with life at the moment so I've postponed my intro post for the moment while I manage that and two other RPs, which I GM. When I get the time I certainly still intend to join though!

Yosh/Gan Character Testing Grounds

Zume Tatasuko

As Kojiro managed to dodge, Zume began his descent, the spear continuing to fly down till it was struck by the final wave. As this occurred the spear was whirled about and upwards in the currents till Zume, rather quickly, tired of watching it. The weapon dematerialized, then emerged as if from nowhere, returning to his hand in its blade form once more. Zume, having noted Kojiro's location, re-calibrated the sphere that surrounded him. He removed several of its components, changing the size and shape of others to compensate. He then removed himself from it, allowing it to rapidly accelerate downwards towards the Sage. Should he move before it landed, its trajectory would alter to compensate. The attack could only be effectively avoided several moments before it struck. Zume on the other hand waited. He saw the danger in returning to the ground, but also saw the potential in doing so for his own attacks. He knew Kojiro could track his movements via the dust, though there was less of it in his general vicinity. He knew it could be used for further attacks, but he also knew that he was most deadly when he could attack from mid-range. He began preforming handseals. He could use that technique again, but doing so would mean sacrificing a large portion of his chakra, which was risky. His opponent was running low now, but the man was a sage and with his blade, he could absorb the surrounding natural energy. This would mean that Kojiro could regain his chakra stores in combat, whereas he could not. Troublesome.

]{Naruto: Jaded Ideals}[

Monzaemon, Kawatake – Thread Weaver

Exiting the compound later that day far after Uemura had dealt with the stranger at their gate, Kawatake--followed closely by Tataruki and her fox--trudged through the desert in an effort to quickly arrive in Gobi village. Preferring not to be caught in a sandstorm, or three, Kawatake and Tataruki took few breaks as he was intent on finishing this as quickly as possible. He did not like wasting time and this applied to everyday life as much as it did to missions of any sort. So it was, after many hours of tiring travel, that the two saw the village upon the horizon. Exhaling sharply, Kawatake stopped a moment, glaring through the sand and heat towards the settlement. He didn't like the feel of this, but it didn't matter. Glancing at Tataruki briefly, then looking away, he started again and the two would soon find themselves entering Gobi Village. With any luck, the villagers, and any resident clan, would be responsible. It would be better that way, otherwise the Monzaemon would be dragged into what would likely be a much more complex situation. One that he did not like the idea of at all, even if they were likely to triumph in the end. It was with this in mind that he set foot in the village. Hoping that things would be simple, but figuring they would be anything but. It was an unfortunate place to be.

From Stardust, To Stardust

Interesting nation Mr.Fox. I'm sitting here thinking how a Daemon would effect my nation, The Legion Collective. They'd meet some interesting issues unless they found a way to access one of their worlds as practically no Legion tech is composed of "parts" in the traditional sense. What I mean by this is rather than one of their weapons be composed of various mechanisms, the weapon is instead composed of hundreds, if not thousands (depending on the size of the weapon and whatnot) of nanobots, each of which is under the control of a member of Legion whose consciousness is anchored therein. While I could see a Daemon trying to take over one or two members of the collective (one or two nanites) them attempting to commandeer a whole ship (which depending on its size could be literally millions of nanobots, and thus members of the Collective) would be nigh impossible unless they have a consciousness which is somehow superior to literally millions of beings pooling their mental capacity and whatnot into a Collective mind. Still, the biological members of Legion would be vulnerable to Daemon influence, which is unfortunate, but to be possessed I imagine you'd need to get near said biological members, even if it's just being on world. Thoughts?