Chrono Asylum~

[Mikael]

ONE COUNTERATTACK

-&&-

TWO CHANCES

ILANA couldn't help but giggle like a little schoolgirl as she watched GEKO assume his knight-in-shining-armor persona with admirable zest. Their reaching hands, when entwined, made her forget that they were even in an arena and instead, on some faraway adventurous mission – she beamed, wishing that the sweet old days would return. The fair damsel pouted, however, when Geko exhibited his unwillingness to request a kiss, which she believed would have been a fair reward.

'He wouldn't dare,' Ilana telepathed to Geko, 'but all the same, I owe you a smooch. Don't forget that!'

Kneeling where she had landed, Ilana sighed as Geko left the arena – she knew that it was necessary as this was, after all, a mission; she didn't have to like it though! Her stress returned. There were only a handful of men whose presence could put her at ease: ETHAN – of course – followed rather closely by Geko. Her mind then wandered, but she shook it off before she dove too far into a painful nook of her flirtatious past. Looking around for rambunctious foes leering for someone to ambush, her eye caught MARCEL and his battle with the Flame-Reaping Alchemist; She smiled.

A moment after his victory, Ilana stood up and telepathically told Marcel that he did a great job; However, her stomach lurched as soon as she sent the message. She feared he would take that remark as annoying or, God forbid, patronizing. Sometimes she wished that she wasn't so precocious and reserved, like some–

Ilana screamed painfully and almost lost consciousness as she staggered a couple feet to her left.

“Whoa! And a distracted PENDECA suffers a mighty TMJ blow.”

Clutching the right side of her face with her right hand, she saw a taller, younger, and stronger Russian woman in a leather outfit standing before her, sneering viciously. Ilana deduced that her new target had approached her right side and struck her squarely in the TMJ area. A clever tactic, but a wasted effort overall, much to her surprise.

“Why'd you stop?” Ilana asked casually, glaring up at her.

“Huh?” she mumbled, but before she could even respond, she was already on the ground, choking, clutching at the wiry old hand that had seized her throat.

Ilana had, without reserve, stepped into the open-side – the weak side – of the young lady's martial art stance, blasted her left hand up onto her throat while simultaneously ripping out the root of her stance with her left-legged sweep. As she fell, Ilana went down with her until she was kneeling besides her and pushing her throat down with most of her body-weight.

“This is real life, kid; Don't hold back next time,” Ilana told her gently, easing up so as to not crush her windpipe, but still choke her into a warm, blanketing darkness.

“And Pendeca is right back in the game! A tough old broad, indeed!”

She stood. Her breathing was calm, her nerves excited, Ilana slowly eyed MEILING in her corner of the arena . . .

'Pah! How exquisitely... brutal.'

"You were saying something about carving something on my forehead right? I will kill you, you old bitch!"

. . . before her wizened brown eyes slowly slithered over to witness a very upset guppie, YIN FANG, marching towards her like, as her partner would say, a pineapple was lodged up her skinny little ass.

"You can't run from your shadow nor can you run from mine."

Out of trained habit, Ilana bent her knees, widened her feet a little, and raised her arms readily, as she just barely registered Yin's scythe-turned-boomerang attack. Her first instinct was to dodge, of course, as her skill was very exceptional among asylums. So she did, at the last second, letting the dark boomerang sail past her and begin its return to Yin. Accompanying that move was an unavoidable, eye-closing, painful hiss, for something black and sharp invaded her from behind. She looked down to see three medium-sized spikes: one rested between the third and fourth rib, another stuck out of her right upper arm, and the third spike pierced her right leg, just above the knee. Copious amounts of crimson stained her clothing, the ground, her feet. The coppery smell reminded her of murder.

“Oooh! The Queen of Darkness bushwhacked Pendeca with a nasty trap. I don't care where yer from, that's gotta hurt!”

Sure, the pain was excruciating and brought her down into a crouch that put her weight on her left leg; However, while she could not ignore the pain – or embrace it like some sick junkie – she would also not let it control her; she breathed up to her name, all calmly without a flutter.

Now, having dodged Yin's boomerang at the cost of succumbing temporarily to her spiky trap, there was a third instantaneous action – more of a reaction, actually – that Ilana had done without entertaining a single iota of fatal hesitation.

She had snapped her left hand's fingers.

Not that anyone next to her would hear it; The roaring arena ensured that, but even if all of its stands were vacant, the snapping sound would not be harked, not even by Ilana herself. ONLY Yin would hear it, and she alone would feel the repercussions of the veteran's aptly named Bitch-SNAP technique.

Using her gaseous (or aeriform) alch-spec, Ilana had indirectly guided the snapping fingers' sound waves by restricting the air molecules – a medium sound must transverse – that would otherwise force a quick, useless dissipation. The energy could not be destroyed, only moved, so she then had imagined a small tunnel stretching straight from her fingers to Yin's face. At the same time, she had altered the tunnel's molecular density and compressibility to allow the pent-up sound waves to move 1,083/331 feet/meters per second without energy loss. There were a few external sources of sound available: the cheering crowd, shouting alchemists, even anything crude that Yin might have belched out – those too were absorbed into her attack, but she had been extremely careful to keep the decibels around 140. For the inexperienced, it was so very easy to accidentally let acoustic assaults reach decibels that would liquefy human flesh and bone, whether of enemies, allies, or self.

Should Ilana's attack succeed, there would be a variety of consequences for Yin to bear. Her face was the target, but the Breathylum specifically divided the tunnel's end into multiple forks, allowing the sound waves to all at the same time wrack Yin's face, pervade her nose, penetrate her ears, fill her mouth, and even land smack-dab onto her vulnerable eyes. It was a rather intense experience that typically yielded severe facial aches, a sinus-biting sneeze, a few ear-splitting pops, a coughing gag-reflex or two, and, quite possibly, a pair of unattractive black eyes – not to mention the inevitable albeit temporary sick blast of nerve-stunning dizziness. Its true effects no doubt determined mostly by her constitution and determination, Yin's mind would understandably be given considerable pause, perhaps by a thought along the lines of Ethan's first experience: “OW, goddamn! What-da-fuck-wuz-dat!?”

That would be the Bitch-SNAP.

Regardless of her counterattack's success, Ilana's mind paused to deal with its own problems. Closing her eyes and reaching deep down inside her very soul, her will steeled itself against the three spikes.

“Leave!” she growled lowly – any control Yin currently held over these sharp measures of darkness was rendered obsolete; the spikes returned to their shadowy origin.

Ilana then focused a simple L3 healing cast that took care of the most impeding damage factors first: blood loss, nerves, bones, muscles. Outer skin and clothing would have to wait. She remained crouched, opened her eyes, and took whatever little time she had left, if she had any to begin with at all, to formulate a strategy.

Reaching into the deep reservoir of her asylum experience, Ilana considered Yin's words about being unable to run from shadows – a mistake on Yin's part. Lesson One was to never telegraph your intentions, a cousin of that being speaking unnecessary hints that may stroke your ego but ultimately bring you down. Such things served only to sharpen a veteran's already considerable edge.

'Darkness. Without alchemy to grant solidity and sharpness, it is empty, it's nothing... it is the absence of light. But still... what does darkness need to be present, to be... useful? Light... and something solid to block it, to create the absence,' Ilana mused quickly.

She suddenly had a swift reverie: Yan Fang, a Chrono Asylum, a Hunter – the greatest hunter in all of A.M.R.O. – and Yin Fang, a Lost Number, a Silencer... Light versus Darkness... the two Fangs locked in mortal combat over something they both held precious, the detail of which eluding her mind. She chided herself for daydreaming and returned to the strategy at hand.

'No matter how fast I am, my shadow will always equal me in speed, of course... and Yin's own shadow, her personal source of power... wait a minute,' Ilana thought, finally standing up as her mind spotted something... crucial.

Ilana had only one tactical option to implement.

She waited until she had Yin's attention and then smirked, which would surely infuriate the lost number.

“I've already figured out how to defeat you, guppie,” she said tauntingly, a truthful glint in her eyes, “but...”

Without a skip in communication, she continued in telepathy, 'I will give you TWO more chances to get it out of your system. Hear that, guppie? Two opportunities to HIT me with everything you've got, with anything you please... but then that's all, it's game-over, you're out.'

She paused briefly to let that sink in, before saying, with an even stronger telepathic presence, 'But really, come on, Yin. You would be infinitely wiser than your brother... if you would accept a rain-check on our little duel here, so as to NOT jeopardize our mission... but if your pride can't handle that...'

“Your move,” Ilana concluded, bracing herself.

APOPLEXING GUPPIES

-&&-

TOOTHY MUG

“Tell me Ethan, you have heard of us, that much is clear, but how much do you know of us, if I was to ask who Shanghai was would you be able to answer me. I'm simply curious so you should not feel obliged to answer of course.”

ETHAN seemed to have not heard LING at first, but having shifted his weight, placed his hands on his hips, and inclining his head, it was probably safer to suggest that he was thinking deeply about the question – and whether or not he felt like answering her. Even with his blindfold and mirror-glasses covering a good part of his face, one could see that he was perplexed; a grimace tugged his face downwards. He finally turned to her, his gaze seeming to rest on her shoulder (though his oculars were glaring down at her eyes), and answered with a soft, almost sorrowful baritone voice.

“Other than your sis's nickname? . . . Well, yes... I think I can, somewhat... don't want to though,” he replied, turning away from her.

'I don't feel like hurting your fe- I mean, you know, stirring up any bad shit,' he telepathed to her, his telepathic presence feeling quite different than his partner's.

In stark contrast to ILANA'S overflowing veil of goodness, gentleness, and peace, Ethan's telepathic presence felt as though you were on top of a large, cold rock in the middle of a large, raging river: exhilarating, possibly frightening, but otherwise safe... for the moment. Before Ethan could continue the conversation and take it backwards a bit to answer some other questions, VAIYA, well, spooked him.

“Whoa!” he cried, taking a step back from the lady, “...ah...hello.”

Ethan tried to smile, but decided to just respond as quickly as possible – a distraction as he prepared to cast.

“One complicated, curious motherfucker, that's who,” Ethan stated proudly, scanning Vaiya with his science alch-spec.

No longer a red wire-frame model, Vaiya's entire appearance blossomed before him, making his jaw hang a little as though he was an adolescent boy gawking at a beautiful young woman. He hadn't bothered to scan the dog – he noticed it, of course, but otherwise didn't realize that it was actually her partner. And, on a side-note, if the dog could sense human pheromones, it would probably be picking up a lot of attraction coming from Ethan due to Vaiya. That, and other interesting smells that a human man might not be wanting to be sniffing up. Ethan didn't, however, attempt to flood Vaiya's body with a lovely endorphin rush.

“Well, shit, so you're Vaiya of Crimson Innocence, I can tell because you matched your public Amro profile. It's all in here,” Ethan stated, tapping his right temple with his hand, “Name's Ethan Baine, team Mischief Maven. This is Ling, team Divine Wind. And my probational sidekick, PATRICIO... a keeper. Be nice.”

Ethan even sort of bowed towards Vaiya, having introduced his friends to her with flamboyant gestures and such. Suddenly, there was an attack, an ambush – Ethan had actually sensed the alchemical signatures firing off long before they even manifested themselves visually. It must have been because he had used his alchemy on Vaiya at the same time that they were preparing their alchemy. He kicked himself mentally for not acting sooner, and if that wasn't enough, Patricio bumbled violently into him, much to the hybrid's displeasure. Coughing out the dust, Ethan picked himself up and, seeing that Patricio was alright, turned to Ling. She looked fine, but he helped her to her feet anyway. He started hearing many voices around him, some clamoring for help, guidance, ice cream, whatever the fuck a CTF team needed.

He became slightly irritated.

“Vaiya? Let's see you in action, huh?” Ethan called out at her, wherever she had gone.

As the dust settled, several miniature battles appeared before them in the distance and nearby. Asylums fighting asylums, Heaven battling Earth, all for the supremacy over a pair of aluminum sticks with a pair of prettily colored cloths attached to their ends.

A large group (about 6 or 7 strong men and women) came dashing towards Ethan, Patricio, and Ling, and possibly Vaiya and the dog. Just as they were about to unleashed a combined alchemical assault, the hybrid growled vehemently.

“Fuck you, guppies, not today, NOT RIGHT NOW!” Ethan barked stupidly and extended his right hand at them.

There was a subtle flash of red light, which came from one of his lightway penlights that rested between his first and second knuckle in his purple glove. Paralyzed, their bodies all collapsed into a crumpled heap, before they were teleported off the battlefield with several audible swooshes. Ethan scoffed. Who was wasting their sanity on that safety precaution, he thought to himself.

He heard some thundering, behind him, and had turned just in time to see a trio of lightning bolts arc into the sky. He wasn't really impressed, but it was a curious sight nonetheless. Granted, the bolts were located right at the edge of the maximum range of his vision, his oculars. So, he reasoned the lightning bolts could have been more impressive if he had been closer. He wondered why anyone would waste alchemy energy like that though – did the Temple of Earth have flying asylums? He hoped not.

“I don't really think there's anyone up there,” Ethan stated, looking up at the sky, “I could be wrong.”

Patricio poked him in the side, which was apparently ticklish, and said, “Actually, Ethan... someone named Emina is calling us all to her to organize our assault. That was a signal. Perhaps we should-”

“Perhaps we should,” Ethan nodded, not really caring how Pat figured that out.

Ethan jogged off ahead of them, reaching out with his mind for Emina's familiar presence. He noticed immediately why she chose to call them to the stone structure, which to his oculars, was structurally perfect for staging a defensive line. Of course, he wasn't really sure if Emina knew that or not. Brushing rudely past several asylums, Ethan then stood in front of Emina and crossed his arms. He looked rather pleased with himself.

“Wassup, Emmy?” Ethan smirked, “Listen for a second, I got a great plan for protecting our flag. In fact, why don't you lead all these boys and girls here... out there and let me guard the flag. Our foes won't know what hit 'em for a very long time, I promise you that.”

He flashed her a smile, showing some of his reasonably yellowish-white teeth. Another ToE foe came running towards them, but before he could even get close, the black hybrid shifted his weight, causing a bright red flash to briefly lit the scene. The intruder collapsed, as before, paralyzed. The body vanished.

Ethan was still crossing his arms and still smiling that toothy mug of his.

[yoshua171]

Vaiya and Akrael: Crimson Innocence

Her slight grin turned into a bit of a confused expression that overtook her face almost completely. An amused look remained in her eyes as he seemed surprised, had it taken him a moment to process all of her. Giggling lightly and putting her hand to her mouth in a cute gesture she smiled brightly and tilted her head to the right almost like a dog. "Awww, you looked me up. Im flattered" she said sounding a bit giddy from the happiness. cursying lightly to Ethan she smiled again as if the look would simply never leave her face. "Its wonderful to make you're acquaintance" she then glanced at the other few Asylums and nodded at each seeming to enjoy meeting them as well.

She seemed perfectly normal and cheerful on the outside and even when the dust was sparked up and a group of Asylums pressed in towards them she didn't even glance at them. It was as if she knew Ethan would protect her and as he did just that she put her hand on his arm and ran her silkenly smooth hand down it as if to emphasis her thanks. "but you're so good that I didn't need to lift a finger." She smiled laughing slightly at his former comment about seeing her skill. She did find it amusing that he had not even noticed that her partner was right beside her and growling, menacingly.

Akrael was no longer wagging his tail and his dog-like appearance had changed to that of a feral wolf. Looking over at her partner Vaiya shot him a look that the others would not see. In fact her joyful heartbeat didn't even change its course and nothing about her physically changed. However Akrael immediately quieted himself and she turned back up looking at the others and watching as another Asylum, namely Patricio who she had been introduced to as Ethan's partner.

His partner seemed a bit timid compared to Ethan but she didn't mind in the least and turned watching as Ethan passed them and walked towards the meeting place. Looking up and to the side as if recalling or contemplating something she nodded her head and then turned running up till she was next to him and walking with him to the base. As they walked she noticed how much taller he was than her but she only touched his arm again to get his attention once more. "Hey, Ethan?" she said having obviously warmed up to him quite well, much to Akrael's displeasure.

As Vaiya appeared to be enjoying herself the dog/wolf hybrid trotted behind them trailing off and only picking up the pace when they got too far ahead. Something in the beings mind didn't like how Vaiya was being so close to others, though it was nothing new. Once he had attacked someone because of his irritation at their behavior towards his partner but no more.

Suddenly perking his head up Akrael sniffed out some people within the slight murky haze of dust and battle. His sense of smell was picking up a few Asylums and he scampered off silently. Vaiya didn't even notice when her partner disappeared but there was a tiny nagging feeling in her mind.

Only once they reached their destination did she glance back to find that, Akrael was again there. No real differences could be spotted at first glance but then she noticed that his claws and mouth had little splotches of blood on them. Turning from Ethan she put her hands on her hips and looked into Akrael's eyes. "Didn't I tell you to behave Akrael?" she said sounding almost motherly to the wolf.

To any who did not know this to be her partner, this would be strange to see. It was true that some people acted strict and motherly towards pets but the way she was going about it seemed a bit too legitimate. It was only when she pointed up at the sky and looked her partner deep in his eyes that he whined and morphed from a wolf back into his human appearance.

Instantly Akrael would have been intimidating to look at with all of his red clothing, hair and eyes gleaming. However the look in those dark red eyes was one of repentance as if he had done something horribly wrong and even further there was little to no human intelligence in those eyes. Glazed over he seemed almost a husk, though his physical body was at least 6'5 his mentality caused him to look far less intimidating then he would have been in his former years. Not even dropping the guise of a dog he looked up to her with his eyes gleaming wetly as if to beg.

Vaiya couldn't help herself and smiled at is cute gesture and then dassed forwards hugging him to her, despite her being much shorter. "awww~ I can't stay mad at you." Then disengaging she looked at any others who had given them strange glaces and then looked to Ethan. "Heh, sorry, this is my partner. Arkael, or as you'd known him Crimson."

[Xodus]

Rage is a beast born of darkness~

A grim yet somewhat victorious smirk spread across Yin's face as she stared at the Hunter, impaled by her own lack of foresight. Ilana's clothes tainted in her blood which gently dripped on the floor painting it crimson while the expression of pain lay bare, beautiful strokes of agony brushed on the canvas that was her face, a most fruitful sight for her vengeful gaze. But alas if a lack of foresight was responsible for the Hunter's impaling the same could be said for the Lost Number and the counter attack that was soon to come.

-Snap-

The sound seemed to echo around Yin, grasping her attention almost forcing her to look in the Hunter's direction. The surprised expression only now became apparent, her mind screaming at her for not foreseeing the sound as a harbinger of that hunter's vengeful cry. The probability of evasion had now all but faded and as soon as her mind managed to register the impending consequences a strong force seemed to strike her face, the shock of which sending her in a state of complete bewilderment as if a bucket of water dousing your face point blank, albeit with a pressure strong enough to knock the girl right off her feet.

It didn't take Yin long to regain composure and stand on her feet, an attack of that magnitude only seemed to faze her at best, but almost just as quick she found herself on her knee, her palm clenching her temple hiding her most unsightly visage, one that seemed to share the same pain that the Hunter experienced when blood stained her clothes. While the Silencer seemingly remained unscaved the truth poured itself out in the form of tears that trickled down her face, her bloodshot eyes gazing at the Hunter through the gaps between the fingers that hid her face. Her breathing pattern seemed to show signs of abnormality as well, inhaling alone had become a rather strenuous task especially through those coughing fits that she experienced every few seconds. Luckily her opponent lacked the strength to capitalize and the same was true for Yin, recuperation seemed to be the first priority for both thus allowing both the Asylum and the Lost Number to regain the resolve needed to continue on.

"Damn that smart ass bitch." Yin thought while keeping her gaze fixated on her opponent, ignoring the pain that it caused her eyes, something as trivial as that wasn't an appealing enough reason for a Lost Number to let down her guard. "This is a disgrace, I hate her, I hate that face of hers it makes me want to punch a hole in it!" She continued while discreetly numbing the pain and dissipating the aftereffects of her opponent's Alchemy by using her own Alchemy to heal herself. It was no use in engaging the Hunter, especially when her sense of sight had received considerable damage.


"She's smirking!" Yin's thoughts screamed inside her head as her eyes couldn't help but glare their hatred towards the face that she had started to despise oh so much. What was it about that face that seemed to irritate her so much? Just thinking about it seemed to infuriate the girl to the point where the darkness around her had already begun writhing as if synchronized with the rage that clawed through her skin.

“I've already figured out how to defeat you, guppie,”

"I will give you TWO more chances to get it out of your system.

Hear that, guppie? Two opportunities to HIT me with everything you've got,

with anything you please... but then that's all, it's game-over, you're out."

“Your move,”

"Is that so?" Yin scoffed rather sarcastically, unable to hold back her grim laughter after hearing something so ludicrous and deranged. "Are you that estranged from reality?" Yin's tone was now stable and no longer influenced by the rage that just a second ago seemed to govern her entire body like a puppeteer controlling a lifeless doll. Her frail and delicate body gently standing up all the while those eyes of hers continuing to scrutinize and observe the Hunter, anger no longer reflecting from within them but sheer focus and dangerous resolve. If one had based all their assumption from seeing Yin mere moments ago then they would no longer be able to spot any similarities, it was as if she were a different person altogether. Did the rage disappear? Oh no, it was still present and growing stronger with every passing second which was apparent by the darkness that had coated her, outlining her, dancing around her and caressing her, giving her a far more threatening appearance.

"What do you think Lost Numbers are huh?" Yin telepathically conveyed her question, completely disregarding whatever the Hunter had said, about giving her two chances and what other nonsense. "Do you actually believe you are in the same league as them, how could you even think of berating one when you can't even imagine the power that they possess. And among them you have the audacity to scorn me? You have no idea who the 'Fangs' are do you, you naive common blood."

Yin's stance itself seemed to gradually change, it was no longer a haphazard cluster of random movements but a steady and lethal position where she had managed to accurately gauge her surroundings, minimize her weak spots, spread her area of defense as well as formulate over five kinds of possible battle scenarios and in each her victory was guaranteed and if the sixth scenario arrived she would have no chance but to use her trump card and crush everything. While she may not even realize it, her greatest weakness was one that was pointed out by Angel himself when he observed her fighting style in Innocence. It was her rage, while it allowed her to achieve abnormally high powered Alchemic attacks it also caused her to become sloppy, in movement as well as in thought and once she understood how to maintain this rage while not allow her awareness to regress she would become a threat that even her own brother would not take lightly. If Angel were here, it would definitely amuse him to see the cruel irony that it was Ilana who actually pushed that trigger within Yin's mind, allowing her to dig into her own inner reservoir and exploit her full potential.

"Why does that face of yours irritate me so much?" She finally asked out loud, her fingers reaching out to grab that face of hers, though the distance between them preventing contact. "No it’s not your face.....it’s you as a whole, someone like you, who clings to her own self-righteous hypocrisy. Those eyes betray that facade that spreads itself on your face. The expression that reaches out to help any defenseless soul, yet those eyes all ways assuming that everyone around is weak and feeble and needs your help. Those lips always uttering words of encouragement, such bull shit. You are completely transparent! It’s all self-gratification isn't it? You merely enjoy the fact that everyone around you is weak and needs you? That's it isn't it, your desire which manifests itself in those eyes of yours, you desire being wanted by someone is that how you prove your existence? Just for your selfish desire you think you can pity the world and in return the world will need someone as trivial as you? Nobody cares about an insect, no matter how much the insect pleads to be noticed!" She finally concluded, the expression of disgust and hate spreading across her face while that same fowl taste seemed to gather in her mouth.

"I really don't have the time for your two chances," Yin finally referred to the kind charity offered by her opponent. " You have no idea how easy it would be for me to kill you right now.....instead I will give you a single chance to do what you wish, you can repent, run or attack me for it will all be over when it is my turn you will....."

"Turn to dust and fade away just like your shadow!" The Lost Number screamed while raising her palm and thrashing it towards the Hunter causing the darkness around her to mimic her actions and form a puddle around Ilana's feet. A tar like substance clung to the sole of her feet while several shriveled up hands reached out from the dark puddle and grabbed her legs. It was a simple bind technique that is solely responsible for hindering movement allowing the Lost Number enough time to materialize a black shriveled wolf like creature, that slowly crept its way out of the Hunter's shadow bearing its fangs and restless to plunge it within her skin unless she is fast enough to evade it.

Strength of the weak

"What I don't understand is how the T.O.E knew our exact position. This valley is massive and it is impossible that they guessed our location." Patricio spoke, though his words falling on deaf year due to the chaos that had ensued due to the ambush. The cunning little French Man had managed to avoid getting into a conflict by constantly hiding behind the broad dark skinned Asylum. Though amidst the turmoil it didn't take long for the Keeper to lose his footing and fall right into a trench, right in the middle of enemy and friendly fire.

"Oh shit... oh shit!" Patricio screamed repeatedly while twisting, ducking and diving luckily evading the deadly flames, lightning bolts along with other Alchemic attacks. If his steps weren't so unorganized and silly one could almost mistake this man as being specialized in evasion, sadly someone like Patricio only wished that were the case.

"Why do I find myself in such situations?" The man screamed out loud as if scolding the unfair world that seemed to find pleasure in this individual’s misery. Luckily the well suited French gentleman easily managed to spot the three bolts of lightning and frantically charged towards them only to collide into Ethan once again. "This is becoming an amusing habit huh?" Ethan mused only to be flung of yet again.

Though before Ethan could run of solo yet again, Patricio instantly blurted out the useful information that he possessed. “Actually, Ethan... someone named Emina is calling us all to her to organize our assault. That was a signal. Perhaps we should-”

“Perhaps we should" With that reply Ethan once again walked leaving Patricio to chase after the man, heaving a weary sigh at the restlessness of this dark skinned fellow.

It didn't take long for them to reunite with the others, Emina was there and so was Ling along with an Asylum that was a stranger to Patricio who seemed rather fond of a pet. Why was there a pet in such a place? This thought kept Patricio occupied for quite some time and just when Ethan managed to stop an invading foe did Patricio snap back to reality.

"Wait...hold up. We can't just charge in without a plan, are you guys stupid!" The French man spoke out loud while pressing his fingers onto his temple. "You Asylums think everything can be done by charging straight into the heart of the matter don't you? Think about it, this is no ordinary situation we are in." He paused allowing the others to comprehend what he had said, it was clear that Patricio imagined Asylums as prehistoric cave men who acted upon instinct and brute strength.

"They knew exactly where we were and they also attacked us before we could even get ready, how is that possible? The fact is that they had already covered a large distance before we even reached here and ambushed us when we least expected....which was before the tournament had even begun. This is not done in the spur of the moment. There is most likely a chain of command that is issuing orders and the grunt are carrying it out. If we hit the man in-charge we will sever their chain of command. With such heavy dependency on the order given I am assuming that with the leader gone everything else will crumble, just like the domino effect." As Patricio spoke all his insecurity and fear seemed to disappear, even among skilled sniffers formulating a plan under immense pressure proved difficult but this French fellow made it look easy.

"As Ethan suggested it would be better if he stays here to defend the flag and the poochie and his mistress can help him out. Meanwhile Ling you will need to remove this dust cloud, that way the enemy won't be able to take us by surprise. Emina you will have to lead us to the man in charge, but we have to maintain discretion and I would suggest you not tell the others of this plan......we may have a traitor among us." Patricio seemed to hesitate when saying the last sentence, his fear of Asylums once again returning causing the cowardly Patricio to once again hide behind Ethan.

"I...I will help....them out protecting our flag...yeah..yeah that's it!"

The Templar's gaze

"Look at those lost souls, heathens who are fated to rot in the pit yet that is only upon death. While living they curse the land they stand upon and it falls upon us to correct the wrong that has been done, to purge the filth that is Alchemy." A cloaked figure spoke to his three comrades that stood behind him, his voice heavy and his tone revealing the disgust that he felt for the creatures that his eye beheld, a most vile sight.

"The time of retribution is near my brothers and sisters, brace yourself for the war we fight while its righteous it is also paved with the blood of these infidels. They have soiled our world and for too long we have remained bound by the treaty....but no more....these creatures have broken the sacred pledge and now shall feel the wrath of our unshaken resolve. Let them have but an hour to live and once that time is up we will attack."

----------Xx-----xX---------
Deceit is my middle name
Location: Temple of Earth
----------Xx-----xX---------

"Indeed, those are the exact coordinated where you will find the T.O.H Asylums. I would suggest attacking them before the tournament even starts that will most likely spread panic and allow you enough time to do some considerable damage....but I am sure you already thought of that?" The words echoed within the Temple of Earth's office where a strategic meeting was being held mere hours before the tournament.

"No wonder that title of yours has become so popular." A rather muscular Asylum spoke in a tone which was amusingly high pitched. "The Angel of Deceit"

"It would have sounded so much cooler without the squeaky voice." The blood draped figure that stood leaning against the wall mused while hiding behind the façade of a polite and kind smile.

"Well now I believe a trade is in order. Do you have the items I requested?"

"The bag is outside....but I can't help but wonder....what are you planning....you could have chosen less....dangerous toys to play with."

"But what’s the fun if my toy can't make a bang." Angel replied while laughing and merely exiting the office with a friendly wave.

[Mikael]

A HUNTER'S REPENTANCE

-&&-

AIR BUBBLES GALORE

“You're right... absolutely right,” ILANA finally said, having waited a full thirty seconds after YIN ceased speaking, “I'm not that important, in the grand scheme of things that have been written.”

Her face was stony and expressionless, her eyes staring into space. It would be, perhaps, impossible for one to know just how the huntress was feeling, and whether or not she was telling the truth. But then, she did something that perhaps Yin (or her mentor, Angel, for that matter) would not expect.

'I... I'm sorry, MASTER FANG – I just now remembered my partner telling me about you and that old family tree,' Ilana telepathed, so as to avoid revealing who Yin was to the people around them, 'I was out of line... please accept my change of mind...'

Ilana's eyes flickered to life – for a moment – at the phrase 'change of mind.' In the back of her head, she wondered if Yin understood that THAT was what repentance meant, and not saying you're sorry over and over again without stopping. Her expression then went back to being stony and impenetrable.

Ilana closed her eyes... and would not open them until she had left the arena. This might not catch anyone's notice, but perhaps Yin would wonder why the old hag was giving her eyes some rest. The truth was that Ilana had applied her sense of touch to all the gas molecules in the area, creating sharp contrasting images in her mind's eye – Yin would now be hard-pressed to ambush her foe, especially since when she used darkness, she gives it solidity. And what Ilana would normally not see with this special sight, would now stand out to her like an irritatingly bright color.

“However... I shall not dare to disrespect you,” Ilana spoke adamantly, “by offering you less than my optimal capability. Be I a real challenge or not, let us both shut up and fight!”

'and have you defeat me so I can get my part of the Big Bind up...' Ilana added telepathically.

The huntress then, without warning, implemented the tactical strategy that she had created a few moments prior to Yin's little tirade against her. Ilana suddenly became semi-transparent – light bounced off of her body. It wasn't the same as being invisible as one could see her if they looked hard enough, and witness a chameleon-like cloaked entity. The more important thing to notice was that Ilana's shadow was gone. The Breathing Asylum had used her alch-spec to cover her body closely with a coat of gas molecules, all of which had been carefully placed so as to reflect incoming light away from her. This should, at least in her mind, prevent the lost number from making use of her shadow so easily.

And having telegraphed nothing, Ilana focused her concentration on the air molecules that had already primed themselves while she had listened to Yin speak. They only need to be let loose. Suddenly, a flame-less explosion behind Yin ripped into the air, possibly sending her forward, but before she might even try to brace herself, an explosion in front of her, well, occurred. Thus, a series of explosions all around the lost number threatened to keep her blasting back and forth, left and right, up and down.

That was the BoomBox technique.

Ilana looked down, growling lightly at the black hands holding her firmly to the ground – one of them pinched her a little too closely to her inner thigh, prompting her to struggle even more panicky. 'I have got to get out of this stupid thing,' she thought, an idea just then popping into her head. Unfortunately, something else popped into her body at that moment, too – the shadow wolf's fangs, into her right shoulder.

Ilana screamed viciously – sounding like a wailing banshee. And for a moment, her asylum code, located in her throat, came to bright life and flashed IM (999). This was because she had stopped breathing, but no sooner had the Breathylum lost her breath (quite a feat, her partner would tell you), did an explosion beneath her own two feet occur. It broke up the ground, destroying the foundation of Yin's bind – the shadow hands that groped the huntress. Incidentally, the shadow wolf was flung to the far side of the arena, like a black 8-ball rocketing into the corner pocket.

As Ilana reached the peak of her ascent, she clutched her right shoulder with her left hand. The mental image of Yin's body was in her mind, and in lieu of another healing cast (the previous one had already faded and gave her just enough to conclude the mission, or so she hoped), she created an air bubble around her – several of them actually. The already distorted-image of the huntress was now completely gone due to the air bubble's rippling cloud of dust that accompanied the molecules. With several air bubbles in the air, it would take a miracle to discover which one the Breathylum was hiding in.

But Ilana knew better...

'Now, let's see if Master Fang can follow my trail quick enough before I attack her again,' Ilana thought to herself.

Her heart ached for ETHAN'S and GEKO'S company.

FRICTION ALCH-SPEC: DO YOUR WORST

-&&-

A LUCKY GUPPIE

ETHAN flinched slightly as AKRAEL resumed his human form, though his expression did not change one bit – it remained in a frown. Notably, his oculars glanced at VAIYA before they returned to her partner, as though he felt, shall we say, hoodwinked? Whether Ethan actually felt that or not was not noticeable at the time. He nodded at Vaiya's response, smiling gently for a moment before frowning. Shifting his weight to his other leg, the black hybrid then scanned Akrael; a red dot appeared on his body for a brief second before it was gone. His full appearance, now registered in the Sciencer's oculars, was rather unique – red, crimson, many shades of it, and as best as his oculars could render. There was, interestingly enough, a small anomaly about Akrael's appearance. Something thicker than water...

“Sup, dawg? Um... you got a little somethin' there,” Ethan smirked, reaching into his pocket and tossing a folded handkerchief at Akrael.

The gesture thrown actually went between Vaiya and her partner, leaving either of them capable of snatching the black cloth with red trims – a Chinese dragon logo was on each side. Ethan then turned to PATRICIO, having become somewhat alarmed – but kept his cool regardless – by the brave speech he had eloquently given. When it was all over, Ethan clapped ceremoniously and looked down at his little side-kick.

“Maybe you should have unleashed that lightning bolt... eh, Pat? I'd have done it for ya,” Ethan announced before turning to the crowd of asylums, “LET'S MAKE 'DEM SNEAKY MOTHERFUCKERS RUE THE DAY, BITCHES!”

Some in the crowd cheered while others stared at him reproachfully. Ethan, of course, hadn't intended to offend anyone – it was his way of encouraging people get all gungho – but without Ilana around to tell him that such things were so very rude and inconsiderate, well, Ethan's leash certainly wasn't very long. Without even giving EMINA or LING a glance, he jogged over to the flag's spot outside the structure.

'Vaiya, baby, come here please,' Ethan telepathed, standing at the base of the Temple of Heaven's flag.

'That damn thing is bigger than I thought,' Ethan thought to himself, 'How the fuck am I supposed to carry this... hm... well, it might work to our advantage.'

When she arrived, Ethan turned on the spot, smiling suggestively at her. 'Your alch-spec, it's friction alchemy, right? OK, gonna move the flag to a diff'rent spot, but leave a physical copy – a fake – in its place. I'll do this several times, to create false flags, but I want you to make them all too slippery to grab easily, 'cept the real one. Make sense? I'll turn the real flag invisible, as well as myself, and guard it personally.'

Ethan sighed. He was feeling tired – or horny; He wasn't really sure which. It didn't help that Vaiya was right there – her hair kept catching his oculars' gaze. Of course, it was a 3D cartoony appearance, but Ethan, poor man, would settle with what he could get.

'Just don't get any that shit on me, don't need my clothes falling off . . . yet,' Ethan telepathed, chuckling.

He then proceeded with his plan, being careful not to whack anyone in the head while he carried the flag. After he found a spot in the stone structure to hide it, he turned it invisible; However, before he could do the same for himself, a Temple of Earth asylum had sneaked behind him – using his sound alch-spec to be quiet – and stabbed him in the back. The black hybrid roared.

“Oh, you cockchafer,” Ethan growled, turning around – in agonizing pain – to swipe at the asylum.

He missed, tripped, and fell at the base of the flag. He wondered, though, if the asylum had realized what he had done with the real flag; the hybrid hoped not. He laid there, bleeding, holding one hand behind his back on his wound, and the other hand open-palm at his ambusher . . . on purpose. As though it was a game, which it was, but the black hybrid decided, for reasons known only to him, to put on a false front of being helpless.

“Guess you're feeling lucky, eh, guppie?” Ethan hissed.

[Sakuya Izayoi]

Mercy of the Heaven's and defiance of the Earth?

Alice froze, her eyes staring down at the ground, the realization that that was her hand in the dirt, a hand that only a moment ago had been leveled towards her opponent. It was her hand wasn't it? Her hand? But that was impossible, her opponent was nowhere near her, in fact she had not moved an inch closer for the entire battle. How was she attacking from such range without anything that the eye could behold. There was nothing to see, so how, how was she doing it? It was maddening and terrifying at the same time as she suddenly regained her mind and reacted at once by screaming in pain as the pain suddenly found her. Alice fell onto her behind and scrambled backwards a little ways, keeping the china girl in sight. It might have been her imagination but it was only now that she could see it, something that she had not noticed before. There was something, wrong, about the way the girl smiled.

Meiling cocked her head onto its side and smiled pleasantly as if the situation was something so, well, pleasant, as if she had no just cut a girls hand from her wrist with barely a flicker of movement. Her eyes were wide and excited as they always were, not threatening or holding within them some deep, hidden darkness, they were the picture of her carefree and innocent nature. However she did little more then that, no movement towards her opponent, no taking of a stance for the continuation of battle, she did not even show any real interest in Alice for that matter either. Everything was just fine at the moment, for Meiling at least, as if somehow her mind was somehow disconnected from the events around her. Perhaps whatever passed for her inner calm was drowning out the noise of battle and the sight of the blood?

Whatever Meiling's state of mind Alice did not know, nor did she really care, all too aware of her own current state of mind which lay somewhere in between mad panic and the realization that she could not win against something she could could not see or understand. It manifested as a nervous trembling that became all the more obvious as she tried to pull herself to her feet, managing but rather unsteadily, still facing towards Meiling despite everything. Pride, that was what was important, her pride was stronger then her fear, it had to be, if it failed her now, well, it didn't bear thinking about. Whatever chance she had remained with staying calm and...

...Alice's face recoiled slightly as her cheek was cut, a thin red line appearing on the side of her face, a look of shock but also confusion in her eyes. It had happened again, there had been a glow and then she was cut again, nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard. She felt the warm sensation as her blood started to flow down the side of her cheek and inwardly cried out in fear. However despite it all she still started to raise her one remaining hand towards Meiling, she had one more trick up her sleeve, if only she could...

…and again a sharp pain cut across her soft flesh as a line of crimson red appeared over her left eye, blood flowing down from the wound and over her eye, obscuring her vision. Nothing, there was no movement that she could see, no trick of the eye or cleverly concealed weapon or device, just the glow and then the pain that followed. There was a delay she realized, but it was not much. Alice stopped for a moment as she steadied her trembling figure once again before she continued to raise her finger towards Meiling. Though it was hard to tell with the blood filling her vision Meiling had surprisingly become less relaxed in her expression. Not concern or anger, but something in between, it was hard for Alice to tell. Alice even managed to smile in a somewhat confident manner...

...as again and again she was cut, a slice across her arm, a cut across her thigh, her chest, her stomach, again and again she was cut, her body reacting every time but still she tried to raise her hand towards Meiling. Meiling who, with each and every cut started to look more and more disconcerted with the situation, the panic and frustration clear on her face. But Alice understood now, it was not the fear of losing that was now gripping the girl, nor the frustration that Alice had yet to be felled. No, that was not it at all, it was the fear and frustration that she was coming closer and closer to that decisive moment, the moment at which she would have to make that one, final, cut. It was clear from her eyes that she was capable, however it was also clear that she did not want to. The china girl was trying not to kill her.

There was one final slash, unnumbered and uncounted across Alice's breast, but like all the others it was light, enough to make her bleed, enough to cause her pain, but not enough to actually kill her. They both knew that if Meiling had desired victory that the cuts would have been so much deeper and so much more lethal in their aim. Meiling took a step backwards for the first time in the fight as Alice took one step towards her, her one remaining hand pointed towards Meiling with a surreal amount of determination and courage in her eyes and smile. However, Meiling could also see something else. It was the acceptance of defeat. The two of them looked at each other in the eyes for a moment before Alice finally gave up her struggle as she collapsed to the ground. Later it would be determined that Alice had been defeated not by the severity of the injuries themselves but by the shock caused by them. They would also find that because it had been such a clean cut that Alice's hand could be easily reattached by any healing alchemist.

Meiling however was left feeling disconcerted by the whole thing and fled from the arena once her victory had been announced to the roars and cheers of the crowds. Had anyone tried to follow her they would find themselves in a dark and secluded back area where a girl punched the wall until her hand bled, and then punched it again. And she cried in annoyance and frustration at her own lack of power. That was when the man crashed into the wall a few feet away from her. Meiling sighed to herself.

----------------------------------------

Opening hostilities! The wind goddess dances?

Ling did not panic, in fact it seemed to take her a moment to even react at all, looking into the mist as if it was some minor annoyance that was suddenly intruding upon her personal space. In fact she didn't appear angry or determined for that matter either, she was here to watch over Ethan, little more, however, she was still a person who would prefer a halfhearted victory over the taste of defeat. Ling twirled her umbrella over her should as she seemed to stand in thought, perfectly relaxed and at ease despite the chaos that was rapidly overcoming everyone. It was not the attacks that were making everyone panic, dodging and returning attacks was child's play for an Asylum, however, when he or she could not see the source it only made it that much harder. It made them panic.

In fact she realized it did more then just that, it carried the thunder while preventing the ignition of flame, while also being readily transmuted to and from water and steam at a moments notice. It was a very useful technique. However, it had one critical flaw that made Ling smile in a calm and almost warm manner to herself, even going so far as to shake her head in an almost pitiable manner. Once the element of chaos was subdued then clarity would once again descend upon those awash with panic, the panic descending onto those who caused such chaos as if a dog had come back to bite them. Graceful, elegant and above all without fuss, that was the way battle was supposed to be handled.

“The shanghai girl,” Ling said aloud in Ethan's direction, though she did not feel the need to face him as she spoke. Had he been able to see her expression though he would find it, well, lacking. It was nothing at all, not calm and serene, neither angry or frustrated, it just was. She could tell that Ethan was not the sort of man who liked being deceived, even in a good way, he was the kind who preferred the truth over the niceties of playful deception. And yet she could not bring herself to be completely honest either, it was not in her nature. Ling smiled at him, or more to herself. She would compromise. “Oh, its nothing really, I was just wondering if you knew, that was all. That the Shanghai girl is a murderer. Only, it might be something that you need to know later. If you try to get any closer to her, that is.”

With that said Ling simply turned around and walked towards the mist and the sand storm, drawing her large battle fan from behind her waist in one large but elegant movement that opened up the fan as she brought it out before her body. It was a large fan, its edge hiding a very sharp but hidden edge that could stand up to almost any blade of attack. But that was not the secret of the fan, that secret lay in what could not be seen with the human eye. Ling moved the fan to her side, drawing with it the very air itself, the movement visible only because of the mist swirling long after the fan had passed through it and far beyond its reach. “I will show you all, the divine dance of the wind,” Ling said softly to herself in her own language as she sent her umbrella flying off into the air above her, spinning around as if were dancing in the wind itself. That was when she brought the fan up over her head.

There was a momentary pause of near silence and then the roar came. Above her formed a monstrous vortex of wind then drew up all of the mist around her as all of the air in the area was drawn towards her by the movement of the wind vortex. But that was only the start. Not only was the mist drawn into the vortex but the sand storm as well. After all, it was one thing to be able to create a sandstorm, but once the sand was in the air it was subject to the will of the wind, the wind, that was hers and her sisters domain alone. The wind belonged to them, they were the goddesses of the wind! Ling brought her fan forwards in one powerful motion which sent the vortex careening outwards, sending with it the dust and the mist which knocked all of those in its path literally flying through the air as the explosive force rammed into them.

And the umbrella returned to her, spinning gracefully back down into her waiting hand, taking its rightful place on her shoulder once again. “Now, I believe we should return the favor, is that the saying?” Ling said softly and in a perfectly relaxed manner as she once again reverted to her near perfect english.

[yoshua171]

Vaiya and Akrael: Crimson Innocence

Frowning slightly at Ethan's reaction Vaiya was more than a bit displeased. However only the slight frown showed and her eyes seemed to shift for a brief second, though it was barely even a second. The handkerchief flew through the air and unfolded due to its movement she snatched it from its flight pattern and turned quickly, with a look of ever so slight determination slipping into her eyes. Almost immediately the blood was gone both from his hands and his face and she was again holding the handkerchief.

She was smiling ever so lightly down at her hands which were raised half way and near her middle. She was holding the handkerchief in one hand and using her other to examine the stains and such upon it. Realizing something and quickly looking back at Ethan she smiled "Thanks!" giving him a quick hug and then disengaging. Looking to Akrael with a glance from the corner of her eyes she saw that he seemed, unhappy to say the least.

Akrael had a vicious look in his eyes and was glaring at Ethan's back as he turned to address everyone. The look however was pushed down the moment that he saw his partners look. She had not shifted into her other self, her other persona but she had let an eerie smile be shot his way that no one but him would recognize. Then turning from him and skipping quickly after Ethan. Akrael whimpered once but when she was out of range he growled lowly and then walked after his caretaker and partner.

Meanwhile Vaiya had a slightly, weaker smile on her face and she was thinking. It was too bad because Akrael for once had acted against her 'advances' towards another male. Of course, they were all fake but how could he know if none of them did. Shaking her head slightly and slowing down as she heard Ethan's telepathy. She smiled coyly and gave him a sideways glance as she replied.

"I'll be right there Ethan~" there was an odd sound and feel to her telepathy. Oddly, though she did not appear to be confused, she sounded it. However it would not come off as confused but rather...it would feel less organized. There was both an odd rigid feel to her words though when she said his name it was a lot more coy but hesitant at the same time. Ironically she did not even realize that she sounded like that at all and seemed completely ignorant to the fact that her telepathy could more easily give her away.

Arriving again at his side she looked up at his taller frame as he spoke, again in telepathy.

'Your alch-spec, it's friction alchemy, right?'

"Mmhhmm~ What would you like from it?" As he continued and told her what he wanted she nodded several times and then smiling towards each of the fake flags she used some alchemy. The words were a bit blurred over and she spoke at a whisper but in no time each flag was equally slippery. Giggling at his last comment as she finished, Vaiya looked off into the distance for a moment. However as she tried to get a moment to collect her thoughts, a moment of quiet and solace there was a rude interruption.

Akrael, began to growl again and then, with his enhanced physical speed he dashed forwards in the direction Ethan had gone. Raising and angling her eye brows in worry and a slight annoyance glittering in her eyes she darted off after him. Running, albeit much slower than her partner, Vaiya thought. Dammit if he hurts the guy I'll be in big trouble....
- - - - - - -

As the few alchemists near Ethan moved around him in a circle to eventually attack at an even further advantage, one of them glanced around. "Hey, where's the damn flag!" he said glancing at the 3 others. They just shrugged and then the leader, who appeared to be the guy who had stabbed Ethan looked down at the Black Asylum and smirked. "Well now Blackie. Why don'tcha tell us where that flag is and we'll leave ya un-crippled and alive." Taking a step or 2 forwards the man brandished his knife in his hand, ready to use it to possibly dis-arm his target.

However, as he took the 3rd step he was tackled, no he wasn't tackled more like something knocked him to the side and then there was something on him. No, not something, someone, Akrael. Crimson, as he was known was definitely a good name for the moment that Akrael was on the man, and even as they still hurtled through the air and towards the ground, it was all in slow motion. His hands on the man's chest a reaction happened and he was again in the form of a wolf. There was no in-between time, he was just there, in that form and ripping at the man's chest.

Of course the others were surprised but knowing the ways of battle they took the opening and ran forwards to help their comrade. Wrong decision because Akrael had already incapacitated his 1st target and in mere mili-seconds was back in his human form. Putting his palm up towards the nearest asylum he smirked, a look of complete animalistic blood-thirst in his eyes and an explosion went off. It wasn't much but the pulse from it staggered 3 men within its vicinity. However its main purpose had not been the faltering of movement, but rather the dust that it brought up. A thick cloud had risen over a small area with a radius of 2 yards. The remaining 3 men looked at the cloud with apprehension and bravely, or foolishly one man shot a small pulse of sound disruption into the dust.

A pulse returned out but it was of the sonic variety and as the blast of concussive sound escaped the cloud, it dispersed it too. A large bat about the size of an average dog, sat over the now unconscious leader. It was releasing a pulse of sound at a frequency that could push a man off of his feet. Of course this was simply an example of Akrael ability to shape shift AND to alter what he turned into. Unfortunately for the men that wasn't the only alteration he had made. The leg muscle's of the bat were much stronger than a real bat and thus he lunged at one of the men, taking him from his feet and then gouging his teeth into him. He was a vampire bat and the blood quickly drained from the man's face.

He would become dizzy but not pass out, however Akrael removed his mouth and doning his metal claws stabbed the man's leg just below the hip and began to turn. A metallic object, that had been sharpened into a pole and a point stabbed down at him. Whiping the claw up and snaring the pole inbetween two of the three gagged slashing weapons he smiled again. The asylum's own eyes seemed to fill with fear, and then pain as the claw stabbed into his shoulder. Sweeping him off his feet with his leg and then spinning and righting himself to attack the last man standing he ran.

The asylum turned to run but he wasn't fast enough and Akrael's trained legs caught him up far too quickly. Now on his belly and trying to get up he turned to look upwards and over his shoulder to see Akrael. There was a small amount of drool coming from one corner of his mouth and his look was something obviously not human. However before Akrael could use his claw to stab down at the man a voice rang out, true, clear, and female. "Stop!!" Akrael's blood-lust dissipated in a fraction of a second and he turned, looking to where Vaiya was. She had just gotten there, showing just how quickly he had dispatched the measly fodder, or rather Guppies as Ethan called them.

Vaiya just shook her head at Akrael and he morphed back into a wolf and kept guard. Glancing at Ethan and holding a hand out to help him up she smiled softly, and again weakly at him. "Im sorry, he can't help himself. Are you okay?"

[Shroud]

Emina listened to the man, Patricio, speak. It was a good idea, besides plans we're her strong suit anyway. “Maybe you should have unleashed that lightning bolt... eh, Pat? I'd have done it for ya,” Ethan however, seemed to think Patricio should lead. Emina breathed out a small laugh. Keepers might be smart, but they can't handle field work well.

With in the next few minutes everyone dispersed to carry out their part of the plan. Emina suck around a little bit and waited for Ling to clear the dust. She looked on, impressed, by Ling's abilities. If Ling could do that so simply, Emina wondered just how far the girl's abilities reached.

Emina didn't waste anymore time and sprinted with fully enhanced speed. She had generally idea of what the enemy's could look like, but beyond that, it would be bit of a guessing game. In the middle of the playing field it was relatively empty and only a few battles were being fought there. It seemed that the enemy was either on one side or the other.

Emina looked for a couple minutes with no success, which is saying something considering how fast she was moving. She moved on to check the boundaries
of the arena. Finally Emina stopped suddenly and looked over the edge of a cliff. Only this wasn't natural. An alchemist had carved it. The way down was easy, it was what she to once she was down there that made it a bit more difficult.

Emina descended on a small cloud. She touched the ground and instantly heard the sound of running feet. They had seen her, but she had expected that. Now it was time to use that to her advantage. Emina took her stance as three alchemist's came into view. Seeing the advantage they had in numbers all of them attacked at once. Emina sidestepped the first strike and blocked a second with ease. As the third alchemist attacked, Emina ducked his punch and sent one of her own at his stomach. He flew back from her strength, hit the wall, and collapsed.

She smirked at the surprised look on the other two's faces. Emina loved that look. The next man didn't seem to learn too much from his buddy and tried attacking Emina head on. His attacks failed and she whipped out Memories, stabbed him in the shoulder and knocked him out with the hilt in one flowing move. The third alchemist was more careful. Smart. Too bad he didn't have the skill to back it up. He threw several projectiles, but none hit their target. Emina's eyes and reflexes were too good. It wasn't long until he met the same fate as his friends.

Emina continued to a small building wedged inside the valley. She exchanged Memories for her gun and assessed the situation. Only two people were inside. One had a very squeaky voice and was giving order to another man that was only saying affirmatives here and there. Emina leaned up against the doorway and waited for the man in charge to start speaking. In the next half a second, Emina turned the corner into the building, aimed and killed the average sized man. She then trained her gun on the larger one who, much to Emina's amusement, was the one with the squeaky voice.

"So," Emina said. "Who betrayed the Temple of Heaven's position?"

"And who exactly do you think you are, acting as if you've won already?"

Emina had to hold back a laugh. "I'm just the girl with your life in her hands, that all. Now, the question."

The man looked up as if thinking. "No."

Emina pulled the trigger. He yelped as bullet scrapped his ear then embedded itself into the wall. "How 'bout now?"

"Don't know his name," he muttered quickly. "But...uh..he wore a lot of red and had this odd symbol on his jacket."

"That all?" Emina asked threateningly

"And, and he had cloth wrapped around his e-" The man choked and fell over dead.

Emina didn't need him to finish his sentence to know who he was describing.

[Xodus]

Lay bare the Fangs of the Taoist!

Yin couldn't help but cringe by the sudden apology of her foe, her fists clenched even tighter while her hawk like eyes narrowed down on her opponent. Her mind seemed to disregard everything around her, for her the world had suddenly become black and the only white stain on that wonderful canvas was the Asylum that stood in front of her brewing up some form of strategy.

"You dare to look down on me again...." Yin thought to herself, afraid to speak out loud for she knew her tone would waver and crack under the immense pressure of holding back those tears, those memories that she tried to bury in the darkest depths of her mind but there is no escape from the shadows of the past, like thorns they will prick your flesh until it bleeds. The time for words had long since passed and all that was left was eradicating this white stain that corrupted the beauty of the dark.

“However... I shall not dare to disrespect you, by offering you less than my optimal capability. Be it a real challenge or not, let us both shut up and fight,'and have you defeat me so I can get my part of the Big Bind up...'"

"Stop talking....stop talking....stop talking," The Lost Number whispered repeatedly, blocking out any and everything that her opponent uttered out of those lips that only succeeded in furthering Yin's rage.

"Just die already!" The girl suddenly screamed out her frustration, the wave of her hand gesturing the shadow wolf to rip the woman to shreds however before she could capitalize an explosion seemed to catch her off guard. Though just as her vision blurred and the flames reflected off her pupil inching closer with every micro second time itself seemed to stop, the sudden flash causing a seizure of her nervous system yet at the same time the shock causing a surface of those memories that could no longer be contained.




Flash back sequence~

~Darkness is solitude~

The heat scorched the forest as the sun glared down at a village hidden amidst the towering trees. The birds themselves seemed rather quiet this morning and the only voice that echoed through this village were the cries of the cicadas. By the undisturbed and tranquil surroundings and geography it was clear this place did not see its share of foreigners, the only inhabitants’ beings those who were the natural heirs to this village.

At first glance the village could best be described as a solitary place where excitement was a rare luxury. The inhabitants appeared detached, almost lifeless, their minds fixated on a single goal and every ounce of their fiber seemed to be devoted into just that. Interaction between the local people remained to a minimum and most of them remained barred inside their homes for days end. It was a strange community that defied all the norms of a social society and instead followed an approach more on the lines of to each his own.

However even within this desolate lifestyle an element existed which unified all the people and their goals and this element was that of pride and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and improvement.

~The heir to the Fang clan had finally been born~

Every few decades this clan produced exemplary Alchemists and at this very day not one but two prodigies were embraced in the cradle of the Tao. The next heirs of the Fang clan were born and as a living personification of their ideology were named after balance which is Yin and Yan and now it was the village's turn to pass down their knowledge which had been circulating in their very veins for over five hundred years, Alchemy!

Six years later

"Look grandfather, look!" A polite and innocent voice suddenly chirped through the forest with a most earnest and jovial zeal. A young version of Yin sat in a lone corner, her face staring down at the cracks trying her best not to let her excitement spoil her concentration.

"Hurry! I did it.....I finally did it grandfather!" She called yet again, her body remaining stiff due to the fear that moving or budging may spoil her accomplishment. A child wishing with all her might that her good deeds be acknowledged and receive a reward as compensation for all the hard work, yet not a soul bothered to heed a child's innocent beckoning leaving the girl to sit alone and continue staring at that very crack from which the shadows gently danced about until the exhaustion, disappointment and solitude lulled her to sleep.

"Bravo, amazing you are truly the next heir of our clan!" A voice suddenly echoed through the village causing much alarm and summoning several others to gather as a crowd around a single boy standing underneath a full moon, radiating in its warm light and vanquishing the darkness that engulfed the village.

"Is that you...grandfather..." The girl muttered politely as she rubbed her eyes, pouting at her sleep being disturbed. Her hazy vision slowly clearing and resting on the large crowd that had gathered near her, the excitement which had been lulled away suddenly seemed to surface and the girl expanded her chest ready to embark on her ambitious journey to be acknowledged by those around her.

Her face once again turned towards the crack, her eyes squinted as she focused on that single spot yet again and finally the smile that spread across her innocent face signaled she had once again accomplished the task of bending darkness to her will, and she finally performed Alchemy!

"Look, look I am doing it again!" She once again chirped enthusiastically, her head nodding as if patting herself on the back and waiting silently for someone to praise her as well yet even now her existence remained bottled and cast aside. Her Alchemy finally withering as her tear drenched unwillingly turned to the large crowd of people who remained oblivious of the fact that the second heir.....or more so a mere child seeking a friend stood right behind them, their eyes infatuated almost blinded by her brothers light.

For hours that girl remained standing and staring at the crowd that only seemed to grow in size, a sense of awe plastered over their faces while a cold sadness enveloped the unnoticed child who quietly waited for her chance.....a chance which never came all the while the darkness behind her had begun twisting and waning like the ebb n flow of a tide, slowly wrapping itself around the girl who remained unaware of it all.

End Flash back~
-----------Xx------xX---------





"Damn it all to hell!" The girl suddenly screamed, regaining her composure mere seconds before the blast could engulf her and scorch her entire body. However her left arm had already been scorched and almost instinctively the minute it got caught by the blast her own shadow instantly wrapped itself around her tightly, shielding her from sustaining any severe injuries other than the one she had already received. As soon as the first explosion ended a second suddenly erupted behind her knocking her in front where a third explosion seemed to set off, thrusting her back and forth. The process continued until all the explosions finally exhausted leaving Yin standing in the middle of the ground wrapped in a black shadowy cocoon. A technique rather similar to her "Iron Maiden" where she traps her foe in a barrier of darkness and then impales him, however the "black cocoon" is a slightly modified version where the darkness wraps around her instead of her enemy and the thickness of the darkness is reinforced and is constantly able to regenerate after being attacked and at times even adjusts itself if the attack is repeated ensuring minimum injury.

"You made me use my black cocoon...." Yin slowly spoke out loud as the darkness around her faded away, her tone rather impressed at Ilana's capabilities. She never knew experience could ever rival raw talent; however this rivalry was but wishful thinking as if Ilana would give it her all it is only.....respectful that the Lost Number would do the same.

A victorious smile slowly spread across her face as she noticed Ilana seeking refuge in a bubble, the skilled hunter had created several other decoys so as to confuse her opponent and in doing so had already dug her grave. Ilana had no idea that Yin's Alchemy focused on multiple attacks that spanned over a large area hence rendering distance and numbers obsolete. The darkness around the silencer had already taken the form of multiple spikes, each spike targeting a single bubble to ensure everything in sight would be impaled however the Lost Number seemed to have something else in mind.

"You.....your very presence irritates me down to my very soul. It is that very soul that I shall rip apart without mercy!"

Her word's echoed her strong intent, her will, the words spoken by the rage that clawed her throat, words which she knew held no meaning for no one out there every cared to listen.....hence why action would speak louder.

"Shifting stance!"

Her words once again echoed through the arena....yet this time.... something seemed strange. A sudden influx of power had begun to build inside the Silencer, her own aura starting to get intoxicated and merge with the darkness that surrounded her creating an uneasy atmosphere which could be felt by everyone around.....even the spectators.

"Raven's embrace"

As she spoke her final words her body seemed change its posture in an uncanny sync to the words that flowed out of her mouth, her very soul. Both her arms seemed to spread apart wide as if trying... or....wanting to embrace someone. Both her legs strongly planted on the ground, her feet perfectly aligned with each other. However instead of closing her arms to embrace, her left arm slowly raised itself and mimicking the actions the darkness seemed to slowly accumulate around her, forcefully being stretched from its source and covering the entire arena in a black thick tangible mist, suffocating most of the contestants. While the rise of her left arm signified the beginning her right would end it and the sheer destructive capacity of this strange and unknown cast would perhaps destroy the entire arena along with everyone inside it.

"You fool!"

The words stabbed Yin straight through her heart as her hate filled gaze turned to face the source, though all that came in her line of vision seemed to be a golden ferret one that illuminated light, a light strong enough to disperse the darkness that had accumulated around the Lost Number.

"Calm down and complete your mission!"

The words once again echoed within her mind and as soon as the voice faded away the Golden Ferret instantly exploded emitting blinding light, destroying both the darkness as well as the eerie atmosphere that had been created. The aftermath? Nearly a dozen contestants unconscious, Yin and Ilana both were missing and only two people remaining on their feet.

------------Xx------------xx--------------

"Hey get up you!" Yin scoffed, forcefully shaking the unconscious hunter who lay next to her. Such a beautiful opportunity had spread itself right in front of her; she could have easily removed the thorn that had caused her to bleed. However now that her rage had disappeared rationality said otherwise. The completion of the mission was the main priority and Ilana's assistance was needed so she wasn't obsolete just yet.

"Get the bind started and leave this arena before I change my mind and kill you!" She barked her orders and slowly turned away, the wounds of her opponent seemingly stitched and bandaged in a black thread like fabric....the same kind of fabric that covered Yin's scorched arm and with each passing second the fabric seemed to get absorbed into the skin, healing the injury in a rather unorthodox manner.

With that said the young Silencer left the Hunter to concentrate on her bind and teleported to her desired location, taking a seat in the Northern location. Her palms slowly pressed the ground and her eyes shut themselves so that she may concentrate her Alchemy, envisioning a large dome covering the arena trapping everyone present inside. For how long her eyes stayed shut she did not know......but the minute it was time to perform the cast....it just came to her and she was sure the same could be said to the others. The minute her eyes reopened a strange pillar suddenly erupted from in front of her and lined it-self with the three other pills and within seconds a supernatural field joined all creating a dome like prison.

--------------Xx---------xX-------------

Now it’s your turn

"Looks like the bind has been cast," Angel spoke, unusual excitement in his tone as he barged inside the Chrono Lounge, immediately and cautiously resting the large suitcase he had...."received" from the Temple of Earth in exchange for his....."help".

"And the reason for your excitement is?" Rin replied, her expressionless face bluntly staring at her partner whose intrusion had interrupted her from reading the last page of the book that rested on her lap.

"You know....it is normal for me to get excited and happy from time to time too you know."

"But do you deserve it?"

In but a mere second all of his excitement disappeared, the substitute a simple and kind smile which was Angel's general and default expression for everyone that he met.

"I guess it is my turn now, try not to cause trouble....you are still injured." With that the Chrono finally stood up, brushing her clothes and placing the book back in its shelf after which silently departing to the bind for it was her duty to take charge after the arena had been sealed.

"Is there a creature that doesn't deserve happiness.....what a sad thought...." Angel silently mused, his eyes fixated on the suit case that rested on the bed.

[Sakuya Izayoi]

The reaper of the lost descends?

Meiling's blade caressed the edge of the man's neck, a thin trail of blood flowing down his skin along the nape of his neck, his own hand resting against the side of Meiling's forehead, his fingers in such a position so as to flick her. Only at that speed it would have sent her flying across the room. As it was neither of them where in a position to move against the other, both of them having reacted on instinct when they had, or rather he had, come so close to her. Meiling smiled happily at the man without a care in the world and for his part he smiled back, though it was one of amusement and curiosity. She hadn't moved as fast as him, he was sure, and yet here he was and there she was. It was an unusual situation. As one they both lowered their their hands away from each other though they made sure to not break eye contact with the other, both knowing that the other would more then happily use that chance.

No, there was a better way, after all, that was why they were here after all, it was all about the competition and the acknowledgment and respect that came with it. The Chinese girl seemed like a fair sort and who was he to argue with that, the arena with its wide open space was better suited for him anyway, why risk an unprovoked fight when he could win fair and square, where everyone could see him. With this in mind he grinned and bowed in what he obviously thought was a polite way and retreated in a blur of a movement, Meiling running after him without a moment of hesitation, though her pace was far slower then his. Not that he was trying to escape, oh no, it was far from it and when Meiling finally caught up to him she understood why.

They were back in the arena, with the baying of the crowd and the cheers that roared all around, for those who craved it the atmosphere was no less then intoxicating and from the look on her opponents face it was clear he was one of them. Meiling looked around curiously at the crowd before once again waving enthusiastically to one particular person in the audience, a person whom waved back rather meekly at the attention the wave garnered him. That was when the first blow struck her, hard enough to send her flying backwards through the air, her vision burning white for just the briefest of moments. However long before she hit the ground Meiling managed to twist herself in mid air and land with her hand on the ground, using the momentum to flip herself back onto her feet, facing her opponent. Only he was not there.

Another blow caught her on the side of the face again, only this time Meiling had been somewhat expecting it and was able to pull her head away from the blow, lessening the damage that she took. The Speedster as he was known was more then living up to his reputation and even as he came in towards her with a blur of movement she was unable to follow the movement with her eyes. Only this time his attack did not land, well, not in the way that he had intended it, he certainly had not intended for her to grab his arm as he slammed his fist into her stomach. His eyes opened in surprise and then frustration as he found he was unable to pull his arm free. After all, speed does not equate to power when a person is stationary, any martial artist would know that. With one arm restrained by two of her own he took advantage of the one opening that easily presented itself.

The Speedster swung at her face, his hand flashing through the air at speeds well beyond the human brains abilities to process, in short, he could not miss. But miss he did. Meiling's head was already tilting backwards to avoid the blow so the tips of his fingers passed harmlessly past the tip of her nose. However before he could react further she freed one of her hands and pushed his inner elbow into his face, covering his eyes and forcing him to stumble backwards. Meiling twisted his other arm, his body falling through the air as she passed by him as he was thrown to the ground on his back. With her hand still holding onto his wrist she pushed her foot down into his shoulder and pulled hard, a scream of pain escaping from his mouth, confirming what she felt through her own arm.

Meiling jumped away from him at the very moment that his leg came sweeping underneath her, the look of his face strained but in control. The Speedster launched himself at her with a flurry of one armed punches and kicks, each move bleeding into the next through sheer speed rather then technique. However each and every time Meiling casually seemed to move out his way, already dodging the next attack before he had even started moving. It wasn't that she was moving fast, in fact it was the opposite, her movements were subtle and careful, her eyes closed in concentration as she listened to the movement of the air as his body passed through it. However in the blitz of attacks it was also true that she was not attacking back either, simply stepping this way and that it seemed as through it was only a matter of time till a attack connected with her. It was only a matter of time now. Meiling seemed to stumble of the loose earth and the Speedster reacted at once, punching out with his outstretched fingers towards her neck.

Meiling stepped past the punch, the tips of his fingers meeting only air as they cut towards where she had been. The Speedster turned to face to face her, realizing his mistake and everything seemed to slow for a moment as his eyes met hers. However the moment did not last and time returned all at once. Meiling flung her arm up slightly before swinging down. A knife embedding itself so deeply into his arm that it all but passed through, the force of the attack accelerated by her wind alchemy. It was enough to knock his arm downwards. The Speedster retracted his arm in protective reflex and cradled it for a moment as he glared towards her with pure rage and malice in his eyes. He would not be beaten by this, this, girl. He just had to move faster. However he spent too long thinking about it and by the time he realized what had happened it was too late. He took a step forward and crumbled to the ground. His arm, his neck, they both really hurt, far more then they should.

He tried to pick himself but his body refused to listen, his arms trembling for a moment before giving way beneath him. However he was not fully unconscious yet and managed to mouth a crude but now harmless threat as he looked up at the small and frail china girl. That smile, now it made sense, so that was the kind of person that she was, no wonder he lost, he had already lost before entering the arena. And with a look of understanding his head hit the ground as a trail of blood leaked from his eyes and onto the cold stone ground. Meiling stood silently and watched him for a moment, her senses deafened to the applause of the crowd before walking over to her opponent and staring at him for a moment longer. He would live, though in the morning he would wish he hadn't.

---------------------------------------------

Rem Chevalier, her name meant the white knight, an ironic choice of name all things considered but it held a certain power within it, a history that gave it weight and its bearer strength. She had not always been worthy of its weight, nor the understanding to give the name its just recognition. It had been a bad name, a name that was not meant to be her own, she had another name once she was sure though she had not the memory of it, nor now the desire to seek it out either. It was a good name, if not a little much to bear. It was a name that you had to live up to. Names were such interesting things at times, their power changing upon the opponent, your understanding changing with the day. Right now, it meant that she was a righteous avenger, a holy fury that was borne into the world for one, singular purpose. She was watching that purpose now in fact.

Alchemists and their heretical craft, with everything they did, with every trick that they performed they profaned not just the world of man but that which lay beyond as well. They played with a fire beyond their complete understanding, like children they were attracted to its flame and like children they could not be trusted. A whim, a thought, a single mistake, that was all it took for an Alchemist to succumb to just one desire, to take from another, to use his power in such a way that it benefited naught but his own childish desires. They truly were children and like all children who had been bad they needed to be punished. Rem was the one who would punish them. No, that was not right, surely? She was not punishing them no, rather, she was helping them atone for their crimes, the blood that her scythe spilled releasing them from their mortal coil and the sins that they carried with them. Atonement through death, it was as simple as that.

Rem watched the mock battle with little interest, her eyes marking out those would due first, then in a most patient manner those who would due after. They would all die, in the end it was a pointless observation, though that did not stop her from making it. The wind user, she was one of the latter, a more dangerous creature then her appearance let on, an appearance to fool the eyes of lustful men and condescending women. However there should have been two of them, twins the report had indicated. And she was not so sure of which one this was. It shouldn't have mattered to Rem but it did, it was a variable, an anomaly that might need adjusting for later. After all, an umbrella was easy enough to pass between identical hands.

Then there was the man, a strange entity to be sure, though that would buy him no more luck then his fellows. Though his eyes were bound in darkness it was clear from the way he moved that he still saw none the less, an interesting trick no doubt though as to how much it would help in denying his fate was questionable. The Alchemist could see but could he understand? Not to mention the one whose name was very much like that of the reptile, rather fitting she thought considering what he was. No matter, it was time, the battle was joined between the Alchemy Sects and what better time to catch them all in one fell swoop. Rem leaped from her perch, her staff in hand, its length glowing in a strange eldritch light.

---------------------------------------------

There was panic and chaos, though this had been part of the plan, hadn't it? Meiling wasn't entirely sure about that and she looked around in mild confusion and curiosity, her eyes wide as they watched the mass of confused movement that was erupting all around the arena as the situation dawned on the crowd with the blunt force of a hammer. In Meiling's loose grip was held the limp figure of a man, the man whom they had come here for, the one that she had been told to incapacitate as soon as he made himself known. Meiling had chosen to do this via way of a headbutt, the man's eyes rolled back into his head from the force of impact. Meiling for her part was non the worse for wear, though some might question if her mind was not already broken to start with.

However despite the chaos the situation was under control, assuming that the cute little girl who liked to act all grown up had done her job right. With that said there had been a few bodyguards that she had not expected to be there, not that it really mattered now seeing as though those who were not unconscious were in the process of pretending to be. No one wanted to get hit anymore by the china girl. “So, what now?” Meiling called cheerfully as she turned her head towards were she had last seen the little lady, however the smile suddenly faded from her face as she received a communication from a device concealed in her head just above her ear. “Oh no,” Meiling said quietly to herself before turning back towards where she had been looking a moment before. “We have a serious problem! A big, BIG problem!”

---------------------------------------------

Rem hit the ground lightly, her staff spinning around her like a torrent of death and unleashing a blast of pale red light that made the air scream which caught the clustered group of Alchemist's unaware, the sheer force of the motion throwing them like rag dolls, their bones shattering from the blunt staffs impact. Those who were not throw clear had it worse, their bodies smashing into whatever lay around them, breaking even more of their bodies. There were groans but there were no screams, no one was in any state to scream. In the midst of the carnage stood the solitary figure of Rem, her long white robes covering all but her head, an unemotional and somewhat stoic look to her features. She did not enjoy killing people, even Alchemists, however it was her duty, it was necessary.

“Death take thee, it is your salvation, the sins of your actions demand retribution,” Rem said more to herself then those around her. Her manner was cold and professional, her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the fallen around her. One of them tried to stand, it was the last thing that he ever did as the base of her staff landed heavily in the back of his neck, breaking in like a twig. “And from the valley of death comes the reaper, his harvest ridding the world of its evils,” Rem said as she started to walk towards the rest of the lost lambs who needed reaping of their sins and deeds. “And so it comes to pass.” Rem lunged forwards with a huge swing of her staff without even a flicker of doubt or hesitation, a trail of pale right light following in its arc through the air.

[Mikael]

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FACELESS::FLASHBACK::SEQUENCE
--> ON THE GEMELLIE.

“Your orders come from the other side,” he replied.

Their heads tilted quizzically. Other side? What inscrutable cryptozoic wielded authority to override their bodyguard orders? Ilana knew that they wouldn't cooperate without seeing proper identification.

“Let's see your i–” Ilana muttered, but quieted as his full-fledged A.M.R.O. seal intrigued her pupils.

Contemplating their ordeal's severe reality, she reread the letter: 'Keep an eye on the Gemellie.' Ethan matched his partner's wrinkled lour. Sighing, he mused the reason for intelligence on the infamous twins' activities.

The man suddenly allayed Ethan's brainstorm with a deadpan tone, “A repeat of that event must be avoided......if there is the slightest possibility.......traitors are unacceptable.”

He vanished. Their evening ruined, Ethan quietly caressed Ilana's hand; She smiled appreciatively...::END::

. . . Darkness cloaked his arms round her from behind, lifting the air-castle right off her mind. Hands avid to stroke erogenous skin crawled north, her hands on his, feeding their sin. He whispered silk pains she was athirst for, his verboten fruit she ought crave no more. His enticement, heavier than the sun, to boundless adultery -- 'twas best shunned. As an early fate to consider, being wrenched from his lust was sweetly bitter.

Small hands quaked her, its intrusive warmth from angry breath suffocating. And so returned her awareness of what he had called 'the senseless phenomenon that fools dub life,' with all its dashed hopes, sham fulfillment, and otiose undertakings. A prime example: expecting someone to be there. Her biggest mistake, repeated even now having believed the Lost Number, who hungered for her blood, wouldn't leave her desolately alone. Wisdom couldn't find her to say that her deserter must get into position – An enemy's company, while thick as blood-yet-shed, was nevertheless some company with which she could exchange emotions.

If she couldn't exchange emotions, she would rather abide in no mortal coil.

She sensed a dead weight. Her partner, was he still there caressing her right hand? Her left, crying with sweat, moved tentatively to its twin, seeking its visitor, but discovered the spawn of disappointment in bed with disbelief – a hand belonging to neither her partner, nor her. Her rusted eyes twisted open. She realized her right arm, though attached, was nurturing comatose nerves that fished in no sensations. Blistering tears, fat and sloppy, rushed freely down her cheeks, her heart calling that ubiquitous air-castle, aching to resume that honest moment with her partner in the restaurant. . .

. . . After the Big Bind, she found herself stopping abruptly before her fellow hunter, his youth faithful to him. She had ignored everyone while meandering, leaning on her combined, extended rods for support as she stopped to let others pass her by, lest she be knocked down. The frantic and guilty scurried, the dead stayed dead and dying either died or wished to – Even the arena winner's behavior wasn't exempt, being calm as a zephyr one moment and violent as a tycoon the next. She too had received the urgent call to return to HQ, but as the exact words were lost on her, there was no way she could care or bother rallying her comrades. It was enough trouble to keep just herself afloat; However, that veteran strength was wearing thin.

She glanced up at him, shyly breaking eye-contact as soon as she made it.

“D'you mind helping a... a useless, old witch... back, back to headquarters?” she asked him, her gaze on his feet, her calm voice trembling to be strong and heard.

Before he could answer, she swayed alarmingly, her grip tightening around her walking stick, but to no avail. It fell towards him, clattering noisily. She settled to her knees, her weight bearing left while her arm steadied her and the other flopped about carelessly. She seemed like she didn't dare to look up at him now, sure of his well-shrouded contempt that would contort his face. If not that, then at least his plausible awkwardness of having to deal with the mid-elderly. She didn't care which it was, it wasn't like she'd be seeing him after this mess was all over. What did he care? What did anyone really care?

“I'm fine,” she softly lied, a few more tears escaping to wet the dirt-stained spot on her left knee.

'How have I become so frail,' she pondered.

------------Xx------AT------xX------------

He wasn't sure what exactly happened – it was too fast to render. The frenzied red lines of the unscanned bodies of his animalized rescuer and the T.o.E. combatants blurred over each other. Then, she descended upon him, and though he muttered thanks and grasped her proffered hand, he still felt clueless. *HISS*

He wasn't standing up, that was certain. *HISS* Her eyes now flashed before his; *HISS* Her nose brushed his tantalizingly; *HISS* Her negligible weight formed the innocent cherry atop the tall, dark, and delicious cake squirming gently underneath her. *HISS* Could she feel that drummer practicing in the basement of his heart? *HISS* A moment passed before that 'senseless phenomenon called life' resumed, with a fresh, ice-cold bucket of reality too, and once more did their steam *HISS*

'Uh...' “Sorry. . .” he mumbled, averting his face, which brushed her again, so his breath wouldn't displease her.

He hadn't flossed that morning – a very guppie thing to do. They suddenly levitated to their feet, his hands on her waist for a moment. Dusting off, he took an unguided step, and winced. His knife wound hadn't been healed, but then he felt a silk touch. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her flustered countenance struggling to stay professional about healing one's comrade. He mumbled a shy thank-you.

He strode over to the entrance, resting his weight on one side of the stone opening opposite the wolf. Though his face appeared scanning for hostiles, his oculars were trained on that asylum. What had she meant that her partner was unable to help himself? And was he a straight up shape-shifter? It bothered him, as he felt that it was a wasted choice for alchemical specialization.

Why waste your sanity on a better form if the same desired results could be achieved by training your human body for free?

“You're a dog-lover, aren't ya?” he asked, wondering which of the two asylums felt the question was addressed to them.

He looked into the valley, but couldn't spy enemies too far away without an alchemic sleight like, say, light alchemy? Now, his ocular implants had several features and one was a warning system for if preselected scanned entities crossed his view. Under light-enhancement, they swept further out . . . before spotting someone of a specific height, in certain garb, and with unmistakable muttonchops.

*WARNING*

To say that the flashing sign in his vision dropped him like a bag of potatoes was, without a doubt, a grievous understatement. If the ground his haunches had landed on was any atomically thinner, he would have fallen and met the devil himself within the earth's center in five-point-two seconds.

'Oh-shit-oh-shit-shit-SHIT!' he screamed mentally, then aloud, “Shit-shit! Now?! Not now. God-damned-mother-fucker. . .” – he craned his head toward them – “. . . I turned fuckin' white, didn't I?”

He stood up, his breath shallow. “OK. Alright. Vaiya? Akrael? Wake up! An' pay attention. See that lil' orange-haired bastard out yonder!? Nibblin' on a fuckin' biscuit? Well, thanks to him, this ain't no fuckin' game no more; Our night just got jacked to shit, hear me? Complete. Purée. Shit.”

As his colorful announcement echoed, he caught his breath, and then continued, albeit quieter than before.

“... Just, just watch him... don't hide, no sudden movements. He will come challenge us . . . trust me. ...I gotta warn the others.”

Crossing his arms, he approached the keeper who had accompanied him since the tea shop, “Hey, man... maybe, maybe you ought leave. You ain't no asylum, I know... but that fucktarded zealot an' his kind don't discriminate...”

Patting the keeper's shoulder, he rejoined team Crimson Innocence at the entrance and, resting against the stone wall, rubbed his head. He then let out a huge telepathic promulgation to several people. In fact, due to stress, he contacted some people on accident. The following are the informed: AKRAEL, ANGEL, EMINA, GEKO, ILANA, LING, MARCEL, DIRECTOR MASON, MEILING, RIN, TABION, VAIYA, YAN, and YIN.

'If you had to listen to an annoying jackass like me just once in your whole life and never again, right now would be a dandy time. So clear your head and listen up.

'If you see some cryptic motherfuckers wearing white capes, or cloaks, with a sigil on them... like a triangle holding three circles inside... there's probably a mess of dead, dying, fuckin' crying asylums around them... so, do yourself a favor and do not engage them in a 1-on-1 fight. You will regret it. Our speed and strength pale in comparison to theirs. And they don't use alchemy, they snuff it out. So don't even think about asking for an Exceed – it'd just be a waste. Plus it'd only piss 'em off more, cuz we are dirty, sin-stained scum to them, alright? They'd rather play with shit than let us breathe the same air on this planet. Understand me?

'No selfish heroics. You've got your partner's life to consider.

'They're called Arcanas... and they're gate-crashing the Chinese Amroke, annnnd, well, I just know that someone let someone else do something stoopid to one of them. . . or perhaps not? Maybe they're the ones making the foul. Doesn't matter, cuz they're here and... yes, there is more than one. I can see a white-haired bitch with a staff grasshopping over there. Please be careful, Emina, Ling...

'And... Master Fang? I know I'm a dog. OK? Just us dogs here. But even dogs get to appreciate their master's shotgun when a fuckin' grizzly bear comes prowlin' round... so... may it dawn on you to load your shotgun sometime soon... that's all I'd like to say.'

------------Xx------AT------xX------------

THE TARTAN TEMPLAR
THE DIRGE OF WEEDS

“Hey, you! What side are you on?” a Temple Heaven fighter growled in Chinese, towering over the sallow intruder.

His bronze buttons glanced up at the inquisitor, unfazed by its snotty-nosed attitude. He chewed his food methodically, hoarding it before his mouth. He neither understood, nor cared about what it was asking him – his biscuit managed much better personality and worth. A casual glance at the company it kept revealed the dependence on large numbers; 10 weeds total.

“Wait. Wait, let me handle this, my friend,” spoke a British man in Chinese, coming through the group.

It gently brushed its friend aside, thinking itself capable of handling the little gardener that had come for them. He nibbled his biscuit contemplatively.

“Hullo, mate. You've gotten lost, haven't you?” it asked him, “This really isn't the place for reenactments and theatrics, isn't it? You silly git.”

They all laughed... *CRACK* ... the Brit stumbled back onto its fanny, crying woefully as blood gushed out its nose, whetting the grass. The other 9 weeds blanched, shouting in unison; none of them had seen the blow despite watching intently. He put the rest of his biscuit in his sporran and adjusted his bonnet -- a signal to the two taller, similarly robed Scotsmen a couple paces behind him, their bagpipes at the ready. ♪ Bawwweeawn ♪

“Argh! Gerr-em-off me, stupid prats!” the Brit wailed, its assailant mounting him. *CRACK-CLACK* and its jaw broken, 1 weed wailed no more. The others clambered atop him, cussing in native tongue at their gardener. ♪ bwaweewa ♪ In five short seconds, the weeds were groaning, moaning, whimpering, now pulled up as they laid sprawled besides his first victim. Some clutched their broken kneecaps, others had nothing to clutch with, their limbs dislocated. One weed curled fetally, its hands at where its ears had been. ♪ bwedee ♪

“What, what are you doing? That's too extreme! This is a tournament,” another weed shouted, coming towards him with 12 other weeds in need of uprooting.

He vanished. They gasped. ♪ dededaw ♪ One weed pointed a nanosecond too late at the trail of footprints stamped into the ground... *CRACK-ACK-ACK* Its fingers bent back by his gnarled fists. It tried to run, but to no avail; the tartan anchor wouldn't let go. It squirmed frantically, looking at its friends desperately.

“Shoot him, he's one of the Temple Earth champions-” “-no, stop!” ♪ bawww ♪

12 weeds unleashed their filthy alchemy, as fireballs, lightning bolts, ultra-sharpened rock... it didn't matter to him. A dark green eldritch light surrounded him at the last moment. The smoke then cleared, interrupting their cheering as the tartan templar stood there, their fellow weed at his feet, betrayed. ♪ weeawn ♪

“No way!” “How!?” “That's impossible!” . . . ♪ bwaweewa ♪ He vanished again. *SPLETCH-SPLITCH* and 7 weeds spoke no more, their ankles, knees, and thighs cut so as to collapse them into writhing agony. The remaining 5 weeds withdrew their weapons, their eyes on his – a dirk with its blade elongated and bloodied. drip... drip... drip

They charged in, like a circle closing in on its center. That dark green eldritch light flashed, blinding them to the long rod that tripped them. *WHACK-CRACK-ACK* The previous 7 weeds sat up, to sputter in horror as he stood over one of them, hitting its knees and ankles without mercy. A few weeds, brave as fools, rushed up to push him off. *WHOOMMPP* They sailed up the valley side, skipping like rocks on the lake shore. Their bodies littered the grounds before the stone structure's open door.

The remaining able weeds fled, but he wouldn't allow it. Weeds shouldn't be allowed to prosper, they choke out the good plants.
♪ bwedee ♪ They fell to their knees, which were broken, and their wrists snapped. Defeated, bewildered, they whetted the grass with their bloody vomit, while he flossed his teeth calmly – his rod had vanished under dark green light.

7 white-clothed referees came running towards him, but stopped short to give him a wide berth -- some grimaced as he cleaned his teeth, staring at them with attentive bronze buttons. “You're outta he-AUGGG!” The rod returned, bashing the white weed's jowls violently aside. The other weeds, startled at the distance he had instantly traveled, reached out to grab him. ♪ dededaw ♪ *SPLOTCH* They crumpled before him, cussing, screaming, most of their fingers lost among the grass. He turned around, his dirk's blade returning to its normal size.

A large group of 20 Temple Earth fighters had been watching him, appalled by the trail of misery and blood following this man. He stared them down, his chin slightly up as though to challenge their resolve. ♪ bawwweeawn ♪ They unleashed a salvo of alchemical assaults upon him, his counter merely a flash of dark green light. The smoke cleared once more, none of them cheering, their eyes glued to where he had stood. An enlarged wooden shield, stuck into the ground, faced them tauntingly. A couple weeds cried out, pointing to a presence racing along the grass around them. *CRACK-CRACK-SPLIOTCH*

2 weeds faltered, their eyes ripped out, while he wordlessly pounced upon 3 other weeds nearby. ♪ bwaweewa ♪ More fingers, and also a hand stained the ground, their former owners falling before the brutal yet thorough gardener. The other 15 weeds turned to him, their hard-earned discipline melting away. They fired recklessly, killing their five other comrades in a hail of bullets. ♪ bwedee ♪ But he had vanished. Frustrated, they turned to discover 2 of their number knocked-out, their skulls having been clobbered together.
♪ dededaw ♪ 3 more weeds fell, their ankles twisted and wrists snapped. The 10 other weeds retreated, but not before 5 more were uprooted, their shoulders busted and legs crushed.

“What is he!?” a weed shouted, running with its hands on its head.

It then tripped on a rock, spraining its ankle. It turned over, expecting death to be leering down at it; Instead, its eyes widened as 2 more weeds fell besides it, their arms missing below the elbow and feet horribly bent. It squirmed backwards, trying to get away, but then witnessed its last two friends putting up a good fight. Hope returned.

♪ bawwweeawn ♪ It realized that he was just playing with them, though seemed somewhat tired. *CROCK-CRICK-KRAK* They fell down, the joints in their arms broken and knees inverted. They cried, begging for death as they realized that they couldn't get back up. The gardener merely tapped them both on their heads, pushing them over. It then saw him walking towards it, and realized that it was the last one yet uprooted. ♪ bawwweeawnbwaweewa ♪

It scrambled away, using its arms to move. It didn't dare look back. Its eyes were clouded over with sweat and blood, making it hard to see clearly. It grasped something – that wooden shield... if it could just . . . ♪ bwedee ♪ It looked to its right, seeing the low-heeled boots of the gardener. *CRUNCH*

The weed howled, its spine broken. It was flipped over onto its back, compounding the agony. Muttering, pleading silently for clemency, it clutched the tartan templar's leg, looking up at him, into his fearful bronze button eyes.

“W-why? ...why?” it croaked.

He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. ♪ dededaw ♪

“God's will be done,” he replied with a soft, dangerous musical accent, “on earth as it is in heaven.”

The bleary eyes of the 50th victim rolled back into a faint.
♪ bawwweeawn bwaweewa bwedeede dedaw ♪♪ The 'battle' over, the pipers ceased piping their mournful, heartrending notes.

The tartan templar suspired with relief. He retrieved his targe, transforming it into a piece of floss, which he wrapped around his thumb. His gaze scoured the valley before him, admiring his work that consisted of scattered groups of bodies, blood pools here and there. All dying weeds . . . and yet he had let most of them live, the rest were accidents.

He opened his sporran, pulling out the rest of his biscuit. Nibbling, he suddenly felt watched, and so turned his head towards the stony structure's entrance. A flash of purple hair caught his eye, renewing his interest and vigor as he walked towards what appeared to be 2 weeds -- one as black as sin -- and a single dog. He stopped about 15-feet from them, his bronze buttons darting back and forth between Ethan and Vaiya. Swallowing what he had chewed, he glanced at his biscuit and then tossed it to the dog before wiping his hands off. His gaze returned to Ethan again, one bushy eyebrow rising.

“...Baine?” he growled, his visage thickening into a glower.

“MacGregor...” Ethan replied, gulping silently and taking a step back.

The tartan templar smirked . . . ♪ Bawwweeawn ♪ and vanished, one large-knuckled fist bashing Ethan in the chin, the other into Vaiya's diaphragm, so as to rob her breath. They both flew backwards deeper into the stony structure, crashing together in a crumpled heap. MacGregor landed softly next to Akrael. He peered at them as he wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead, totally unaware of the dog's true form: a weed.