Maurice caught something from the corner of his eye- a devil? It looked like a little girl, but he learned a long time ago not to be fooled by their appearances. Before it could do anything against him, he shifted his weight and turned, drawing his knife in a slashing motion.

He should have been mindful of his footing. He should have worn better shoes for the weather. He should have taken the weather into account.

Between the fire inside, and his own body heat close to his position in a crouch, the frost beneath him melted. Coupled with the uneven footing, and the shift in his balance from the strike while keeping hold of the rifle?

Of course, he slipped, and fell. He was only just able to spit out a "Merde!" before he disappeared through the window he'd shot out. He lost hold of the knife in the initial tumble, but what he fumbled for so desperately as he spun towards the ground? "Ed". He payed no mind to the action unfolding as it repeatedly spun through his line of sight, he just focused on trying to save "Ed". He lost sight of the rifle, spinning faster as he was struck by something, it felt like a metal bar- Did I hit the railing? He barely registered the pain in his leg before he hit the ground, hard.

Now he hurt all over, his back especially. stunned, his head rolled to the side, dizzy, vision somewhat blurred. Concussion, probably. A few ribs, been awhile since those were last broken. Can't seem to feel my legs... I think I might be getting too old for- His vision cleared, and focused. His vision than blurred again, with tears. Not for the sight of the fight going on without him, not for fear of being vulnerable before the devil's had been dispatched.

It was for what lay next to him. His rifle, "Ed". Dashed to pieces, from the drop. He'd tried to save it, and failed, just like before. He'd lost him, again.

Then everything went black.

The position of watching rather than being a major participant of combat came with its benefits. Beniha could easily watch all of the shitfuckery unfold.

Really, if someone had warned her and said "Beniha, today is going to be absolutely miserable, take the day off" then she would have almost taken the day off. Almost.

It was fairly calm at first. Just yurei and hunters being morons. Standard stuff. Some moron managed to see the gas fire that a certain someone made for no discernible reason other than to look cool and said "yes, I want even fucking more of that" with a massive pillar of flame.

A bird flew in. Mostly because she was actively trying to not look at the flame-pillar moron and what she was doing. Looking at her right now was just aggravating. No idea why a bird would fly in! The floating hand near the rocks was almost completely ignored as Charlie Brown's Great Pumpkin decided to break through the concrete floor and start shit up at the catwalk. If that wasn't enough, the black rocks that were little more than an innocuous decoration decided to erupt and take the bird with it. Again, Beniha missed the hand once again. All they needed was a police siren and they'd hit the full shebang of what didn't need to happen.

It really was one of those days, wasn't it?

Her frustration was briefly interrupted by an old man falling from the sky and smashing onto the ground.

Yes it was.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, a deep breath being the one thing stopping her from beginning to stab anything that moved indiscriminately.

When they got back, she was going to have a good and long chat about the importance of making a plan and not just making a ruckus for the fun of it.

Leaning her smoldering naginata against her shoulder, she held her incense with one hand and released and ear-splitting whistle with the other.

"Oi! Rocks and the wounded!"

Just out of curiosity to see what'd happen, she tossed the partially burnt incense at the spreading black rocks. She still hadn't exactly decided what the best course of action was.

Shit was verily fucked.

Hoshio really shouldn’t have been surprised that all hell broke loose. With the portent that was the spier-wielding motorcycle-riding pyromaniac, what else could have possibly happened? She was followed by some more sedate hunters – and just how much backup did the Japanese branch of the DHA request? – and just as the yurei were starting to strike back in an oddly aggressive manner while showcasing their hostages, another fire-wielder joined them. Now that’s just not fair, Hoshio thought with a mild grumble when he saw her fly not only with obvious ease and showy (but almost enviable if it weren’t so ill-advised) grandeur.

Throughout, Hoshio continued shooting, and noted some other mild and odd disturbances, such as some black and small shape swiftly sneaking by – a cat? Rat? Bird? – and shot an arrow in its direction just in case, though it was fairly evasive. The hostages were already being rescued, but he also provided them long-range support until it was too crowded for him to do so any longer. Besides the fact that the entire building was in danger of burning down and collapsing on their heads, things seemed to be going well – but only for about a minute, if not less.

A treant grew out of practically nothing, and Hoshio couldn’t decide which was stranger – it appearing among a bunch of yurei as it somehow belonged there or that it sprouted and grew to such proportions amidst all these flames. Either way, its lifespan should reach an end soon even if left alone. But since it almost shook him off the ledge with all its rumbling, Hoshio sent some arrows its way nonetheless. He winced when he saw it tear off the whole catwalk, sending it flying together with all the hunters and victim, but he couldn’t do much about the situation; nor did he need to, what with the others being present.

Much more concerning was the sudden human figure falling all the way from the roof to the floor. Hoshio’s first thought was Oh, dear. The second one being Ha! I was right about the roof. And the third, Note to self: if you must fall, fall to the outside. Because that old man lying right at the feet of all this, just waiting to be trampled on…Yeah, Hoshio did not want to end up there alongside him.

So, when some of the frenzied yurei approached, Hoshio quickly shot them down. Now more aware than ever of the risk and dangers of falling down, his heartbeat definitely sped up a notch. He did not want any enemies approaching when he was in such a precarious position, whether they were corporeal or not.

As if the scene was not chaotic enough already, several detonations boomed and rocked the place, thankfully not loud enough to rupture anyone’s eardrums. However, weird black rocks did sprout of it, and if this wasn’t related to the yureis and treant and all the other congregating devil presences, Hoshio would eat one of his arrows.

As it was, he took a gamble, aimed, and sent a blessed arrow towards one of the rocks. Given that they had the effect of dispersing, weakening, and nullifying demonic energy, they should work even on the curse – as long as the curse originated from a devil and/or was permeated with similarly evil energy, that was.

The initial chaos in the warehouse seemed to quiet down for a moment only to reawaken with a vengeance. Nevertheless, the actions of one brave huntress saved the victim from a grizzlier end, right before whatever supernatural forced caused all hell to break loose there.

The issue with the yurei was seemingly controlled, with their numbers dwindling with every passing moment. Even so, anyone with keen eyes might have been able to make a nigh-formless shadow simply overlooking them from the furthermost point of the warehouse, away from all action even as her eyes burned with hatred.


"You have been warned and you trespassed still. Your reckoning will come soon, for you'll never slay a snake unless you sever all of its heads," the ghost said telepathically, with a voice filled of bitterness reaching all of the Hunters at once.

Before anyone could reach her, the spirit dissolved into wisps of mist, disappearing into the night just as the sirens began to slowly blare on the outside. If any of the Hunters were perceptive enough, they would notice that a few of the yurei they slayed tonight, looked just like some of the corpses on the warehouse.

However, none of them resembled the ominous spirit who left after whispering words of doom...

---

So much was going on, it was almost hard to keep track of it all. New figures entered the scene left and right, more fire erupted in the warehouse, there was still a shambling girl half-dead, a giant tree beast in the middle of the land and-- oh was that a flying man? Adam stared at it all, before a laugh left his mouth. "Do you Japanese really have this much chaos in one night?"

They needed to regroup, recharge, figure out a plan. They needed to do something before the whole place collapsed down on them, or the encroaching rocks doomed them all. Those weren't normal, and Adam had a suspicious feeling that they would take over the whole warehouse before the fire could, if left unchecked. There were other matters that had to be addressed first, though, and the Englishman decided then and there he wasn't going to touch one of the rocky bombs until he knew for certain he could do something about it.

A voice rang out into the warehouse, coming from the woman closest to him. Oh good, someone taking charge.

With no more hesitation in his steps, Adam darted farther into the warehouse. The blood in his hand dripped longer, molding itself into a sword. As he ran, he cut down any of the remaining Yurei that might stand in his way, and made it to the man that had fallen from the rooftop. "Oi, mate, you alright?" It really didn't matter if he responded, in the end, as Adam was already bending down to sling the man's arm over his shoulder.

Injured old man? Check. The pieces of the man's rifle? Adam didn't even realize they were there.

As the man began helping the other out of the warehouse, a voice resonated in his head. Wincing against the heat of the flames, and the ominous noise that radiated from within, he shook his head. "Next time we deal with whatever this is, we need to be smarter about it."

"...Is that old guy about to pull a knife on me?"

The old man was looking at her alright, with the same expression she'd seen on hundreds of hunters before. Either he was a complete psycho or he was experienced enough to be able to clock an opaque ghost on sight, but with all his attention on Hanako he didn't seem to notice his footing was giving way until it was too late.

"Hey, watch out, you're gonna-"

SMACK.

Hanako watched the old hunter take a huge tumble out the window and slam into the ground below. His gun splintered, his knife flew off somewhere, and he wasn't moving.

Ironic thing is, most hunters die full of hate and regret and end up becoming restless ghosts anyways. Dumbasses. Hanako floated down, and noticed that the man was still breathing. Good thing. She didn't need more furious earthbound spirits around these parts. She flung a croissant at his unconscious body, and telekinetically lifted the splintered pieces of his rifle onto her sheet pan.

"Fais de beaux rêves, mon petit chou," she said, giving the man a gentle pat on the head before looking around.

Thankfully, she didn't need to call anyone, because anyone was already here. There was sirens, and even more fire, and self-propagating explosive rocks... she walked over to an officer, passing a young man who might have been going to check on Maurice on the way, and tugged at the officer's shirt, pointing to where Maurice had been.

"An old guy took a tumble out the window over there. He's still breathing, but he's a bit away from the rest of the action so I don't want you to miss him. I think one of his buddies might be checking up on him, but he needs help," she said before wandering off and taking in the sight of the destruction the loose group of psychopaths called the DHA had caused. She chuckled. Those guys were always pretty funny, but it was rare to get a screaming, flaming disaster at this level of insanity. She waved at the remaining members, hoping that her friendly demeanor wouldn't accidentally almost kill someone this time.

"Anybody want a chocolate croissant? They are... très bien!"

Kaze's flashlight either found corpses, or more yurei that had blood on their hands. Either way his attention was drawn back towards the middle of the warehouse where a Treant showed up. That...wasn't normal. Treants were forest guardians, this was an industrial area with little vegetation worth protecting by such a being. It's almost guaranteed to be a construct made of vegetation and demonic power, so it'd have the feel of a real treat. "I kind of figured that, bud. I'm not a dumb kid anymore." Kaze grumbled as a catwalk came screeching along the ground at him. The initial target avoiding it, bike and all.

Well that was the joy of being a Devil Feeder for so long, he didn't need to dodge things like this. His foot came up and he promptly stomped on the steel rigging, stopping it completely and warping the metal beyond use. The Feather lady spoke up, short and curt. Rocks, wounded. Well the wounded were taken care of, the fuck did one do with exploding rocks?!

"Yes Ma'am Ms. Feather-lady, Ma'am!" He said, mock salute and heel click. Some smartassery was required! So he went to the explosive rock clusters and eyed them. Going around he crouched down and chopped the ground, cracking a portion of the creeping cluster away from its previous growth zone. He did the four times, one of each side, before jamming his fingers into the cracks. With a grunt he hefted out a rough cube of concrete, about two feet by two feet, with blowy uppy rocks out of the ground.

Of course now there were sirens drawing closer. Who the hell called emergency?! It'd be awfully suspicious if he was caught carrying a chunk of concrete for literally no reason. So rational thinking, he couldn't hide, he couldn't just waltz out, but he could blow out the side and move away from authorities. Then the ghostly voice whispered through their minds again. "Snakes only got one head..." He muttered before lifting a leg and kicking the wall. The entire section of sheet-metal blew off, the rivets ripping off easily. Unlike cartoons the sheet didn't just fly fully in tact, this piece buckled and folded before flying away from his outstretched leg.

Without further adieu he moved on, he'd head for the local DHA base so they could get the rocks examined.

No sooner had the bird picked up the cold rock had it felt its rapid change. Having succeeded in its mission so far, it was rather disappointing to know exactly what was about to happen; too soon for anything to be done. Not even a last caw to morn its departure of the physical world before its shape started to waver. Distorting with unease as fire replaced strands of shadow until its eventual eruption.



The sad silence of the raven no more was drowned out by the chaos of an unapologetic world continuing to move on. Sirens blared by the girl that walked casually though the streets. Dancing lights painted the snow in a multitude of colors; giving brief life to the world around her before quickly being swallowed by the darkness once again. She, herself, was a ways out from the warehouse that had gathered so much attention. While she could just as easily re-summon her favorite companion and perhaps give chase once more; she had figured that tonight had been eventful enough in its own right.

After all, how ever the DHA decided to take things there; it would all work out in the end. What she saw through her raven's eyes was proof enough of their capabilities and inability to stop her if they wanted. Even now, a couple rested behind her. Weakly clinging to life without a mark on their body. A young woman stripped of anything of interest, face down in the snow; failing in her battle against the elements as the cold night would consume her just as it will her companion who also laid not a foot away. Neither able to move or cry for help. Shadows claiming their souls in death's quiet embrace.

"Frail is humanity's own mortality. A governing force that is invisible to all, yet feared by many in their search for a cure. Tis their foolish determination that leads them down a road of pain and strife. Not knowing what fate lay ahead of them on the dimming path. Yet here we are; a fate intertwined as we look past the veil that separates us." Words spoken to friends unseen. The waitress of a late night diner setting down a fresh cup of hot cocoa and a slice of cake to the lonesome girl that sat alone.

---

Unpowered flight was not exactly a new experience to Kichiro, the lack of novelty never did make it a welcome experience. The follow-up explosions in the wake of him standing himself up after being throw across a warehouse by a tree were a new and exciting experience, complete with ringing in his ears and remembering just how lucky he was to only have one set of those at the moment.

This whole operation was shot through, and now the cops were here. And they had probably heard the very not quiet explosion.

Mrs. Yokoi had the right idea though. Wounded and the rocks, and one of the Americans had already grabbed a rock, leaving the injured. Well, and anyone who hadn't yet realized they needed to go. And probably take the aggressive flora with them. Leaving it for the police would be problematic...

And now the ringing in his ears sounded like someone talking, that was a great addition to the whole sensation, really. Just keep moving though, that's all that there was to do. Check surroundings: two injured, there was already someone on each. Yurei, mostly dissipated. Unstable, aggressive flora, not so dissipated.
"You guys deal with that, make sure out friends outside have something to keep them busy. It would be much better for them to chase after some punk than all die to a tree" and with those few parting words and a look the the remaining members of the Japanese branch, he darted out the front door.

Out the door he made sure to do two very important things. Find out where the officers were, and then, start running once he knew they caught a glimpse. Try to avoid letting them get a good look at his face, but they could stare at the back of his head all night if they liked.
But the running was the important part. It was very important to look suspicious.

Cursing, Mai dodge the pillar of flame that lit up next to her as she slashed through another attacking yurei. She should have known that more personalities were going to show up. It seemed like the DHA had sent the memo out to anyone and everyone to come to the warehouse, and while the help was- kind of- appreciated, she was definitely getting irritated by all the new hunters. Surely, they could exercise some discretion, right?

Luckily, she didn’t have much time to think about her coworkers as another yurei decided they would try to fling a two-by-four at her. Mai jumped out of the way at the last moment, but rather than landing on the solid ground, she almost lost her footing as she landed on a black root that sprung from the ground. Following the voice, Mai turned to see a giant treant roaring as it reared its ugly head. Ah, maybe this was why the DHA called everyone to the warehouse. A real life Trevenant was certainly more of a handful to deal with than some yurei.

Cutting herself down, Mai got out of the raging tree’s way as it started to attack the catwalk. From her higher perch, she had noticed a few bodies lying on the ground and wanted to take a closer look. Hopefully, they were just unconscious, but she was quite doubtful. Even from above, the bodies looked too still to be alive. Her suspicions were confirmed when she checked the first body for a pulse. Mai was about to check the other body when another explosion rocked the night. To make matter worse, she immediately heard the tell tale wailing of police sirens in the distance. Definitely a clusterfuck of the night.

"Oi! Rocks and the wounded!" She heard what sounded like Beniha’s voice filtering through the air. Agreeing with the other Japanese hunter’s commands, Mai made her way out of the warehouse. Although she wanted to take a rock for herself, Mai watched as one spread and began to overtake the corpse near her and decided to cut her losses. Someone else could figure out how to transport those things; she had no intentions of carrying a ticking time bomb.

Before exiting, Mai looked back one last time to make sure they hadn’t left anyone behind. As she scanned the fiery building, the ominous voice came through her head to give its warning. Mai noticed the spirit on the other side of the warehouse, though it vanished almost immediately after speaking. It made her wonder if the figure had been there the entire time, quietly watching the scene unfold. Sighing, Mai sheath her sword and headed out into the night. She could ponder those things when she was somewhere safer.

Rufus could say with clear mind and heart that he enjoyed a spot of chaos. When everything was in flux, certainty was dashed, and the future could be determined by the slightest stroke of fortune and decisive action. Hostages were saved by a narrow margin, a bird of flame swooping away before a pumpkin of all things arrived months past Halloween to reek its revenge upon the world. Old men fell and broke more then just their gun from a slip of their footing.

And Rufus, well, he lost a hand because a shiny rock seemed worth the trouble of picking up.

The sound of police sirens and roaring flames did wonders for drowning out the screaming of a hobo, all eyes turned towards the over a baker's dozen arsonists dragging out near dead girls from a building cooking off with further exploding rocks. A stream of expletives spilled freely as he buried his face in the snow and groaned miserably.

"Oh ho that sucked." He tasted copper as he uncurled himself, a sting across his tongue telling him he'd bitten it severely in his surprise. Looking at the stump, flakes of rock crusting the edge, his gaze narrowed seeing them seeming to try and grow further upon him. "No, I took my damage. Now come my I-Frames, universe."

A portal snapped over his wrist and closed just as quickly, in a blink a further inch of his arm was gone to places unknown without a blink on his part. The eldritch horror rolled his eyes and stood, snow sloughing from his cloak while he focused upon the warehouse proper. Before him fell cadavers, the corpses of girls now turned Yurei flopping lifelessly in-front of him. He was quick about it but hadn't cared if the DHA noticed or not. What with a pumpkin monster, the cops, and everything else going on he doubted anyone would have counted the corpses.

"Looks like your cold cases are going to stay on ice, ladies, but I need my hand more then you need graves. Heh, not like your spirits are going to rest anytime soon, but hey, if I see any Yurei, I'll dust 'em for you, cause I'm just that considerate, oh ho!"

And so the hobo sent his meal to his happy little home and staggered back through the alleys, eyes keen and remaining hand clenched with bloody minded intent.

Amidst all the hullabaloo, the police officers had overlooked Limen slipping across the road and into the warehouse. The hunters were mostly on the retreat, less than fond of all the attention — supernatural or otherwise — they had gotten.

Now he was free to touch all the rocks he wanted. Of course, his overwhelming desire to not get blown up had by now completely quashed any lingering thoughts about going any closer to those unnatural explosives. A quick knock on the rocks with a barrier gave him the only answer he needed: instant dissipation of the barrier. There was hardly any bigger warning sign than that.

The ghost girl’s temptation was hard to turn down. Limen hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so croissants sounded pretty nice, albeit indulgent. But they don’t make them like they used to anymore. Refrigeration was a wonderful technology, but frozen dough was simply inferior; yet that had unfortunately become the norm at some point. The pâtisseries were in a sad state. Perhaps homemade treats were the way to go now, with all the authenticity and character sapped from commercial baking. He hadn’t been to France in a while, either. The southern regions were more scenic overall, but he’d always thought La Boulangerie Viennoise in Paris made the best Austrian-style pastries. They had fit his palate better than even the ‘real deal’ in Wien. Was the little bakery still around after all these tumultuous decades? The odds were not, unfortunately enough, in its favour.

His French was rather rusty, and he’d never exactly mastered the language in the first place. But it would suffice. “Est-ce que je pourrais avoir un croissant, s’il vous plaît.” Still, it felt odd to speak in a Romance language to a yamato nadeshiko — at least, she might have passed for one with a bit of effort — sporting a hime cut.

Then again, it was a French pastry of Austrian origin that she had baked.

“Je suis Limen, un dæmon.” The lingua france of global diplomacy had long since become English, after all — and even then he would have expected it from the lips of a high commissioner, not a high schooler. Perhaps she was a Gallophile. “Et vous, êtes-vous aussi un diable? Peut-être devrions-nous partir, avant que les chasseurs ou la police ne nous attrape, ou pire.” The officers were shaping up to be more troublesome than the now-fleeing hunters, though not so much in terms of threat to life and limb. That is, if you ignored the spooky rocks completely. Did that still count as being hoist with his own petard?

“You ought to go too, tree. Looks like the Doña Quixote there won’t be leaving this place until every last devil’s gone.” The lancer girl was still trying to make skewers out of the plant. There was roasting flesh to go with it not too far away, if shish kebab was what she was planning.

A portal opened amidst the flames.

Did the homeless man just steal some of the bodies? Could’ve just eaten his own arm.

Ah, now he was hungry again. Tired, too. Making a staircase and walking away would be easy, but Limen was feeling a little lazy. He waved at the tree and the biker. “I don’t suppose either of you could give a fellow a lift?”

Hanako frantically reached for her Handy Handbook for French Fledgelings when a young man began speaking to her entirely in French. She knew most of the words, but he was speaking so damn fast! She handed him a croissant to get him to shut up for a second while she caught up.

"Uh... uh... oui, je suis un démon," she replied in a less confident heavily Japanese accent as she scanned the pages. Having an actual conversation was way different than some French dude speaking slowly on an audio tape. Her English was much better, because she had more chances to practice it.

"Pour- hey."

And then the dude began speaking perfectly serviceable Japanese to a tree. Tree monster. Tree monster? Hanako hadn't seen many of those, and never in a warehouse. Usually you could find them around Mt. Fuji, but in her shitty neighborhood? Very interesting. It was probably those black rocks. She too felt a certain attraction to them. Something was definitely happening... maybe something big. It was odd that they had all hands on deck for a bunch of low-level ghosts, after all.

But more importantly...

"...You know the motorcycle girl is a Hunter, right?" she asked Limen, looking the girl up and down, "if she has a sense for creatures like us, she'll probably kill us right... hm..."

Actually, the more she looked at motorcycle girl, the more she thought it might be a risk worth taking.

"Me too! I'm a helpless maiden," she lied through her teeth.

In hindsight, the execution of the mission could have gone smoother. No doubt this sentiment was hanging in the minds of every DHA agent on field at the moment. Between the authorities showing up, the head Yurei getting away, and the warehouse set aflame, one might have thought there were less positives than negatives in this prospect. All the same, there was a silver lining. The hostage was saved and that’s all that mattered. Not only that, but a good majority of the Yurei were slain as a result of the hunters’ actions, as brash as they were.

The cops were well aware the warehouse was a popular place for young suicides and the like so none were expecting anything more escalating than that. Of course, to be greeted by a blazing inferno was a daunting sight indeed. The cop that Hanako approached looked around upon being tugged on their sleeve; obviously they couldn’t see the ghost and with the flames flickering and licking the wood, they barely heard her too. It mattered little in the end when a bolting form from the flames ran out into the snowy night. At once the cops were stirred into action, most of them starting to chase Mizuki as he led them away from his fellow hunters.

Another form darted out from the warehouse and the other half of the authorities were sent to chase them too. Whether Mai liked it or not, she was leading the police away from the DHA and their tasks. No doubt the cops wanted them for questioning, equating them to some arsonist teens trying to wreck a supposedly haunted site. Such distractions allowed others to complete their own goals; Adam with Maurice’s unconscious body went unnoticed by the cops and Kaze’s efforts to acquire samples of the black rocks went smoothly. Well, as smooth as breaking down walls could be. Interestingly, the dark rocks didn’t react to his actions.

In fact, most of the black rocks in the warehouse were being doused in their own strange ways. Beniha’s incense made the growth pause and the rocks shifted slightly along the ground, almost shuddering. It was as if they were curious, hesitant, anxious all at once. They continued bristling but did not advance. The ones near Hoshio however stopped completely as his blessed arrows made directly contact. Similar to Beniha’s rocks they shuddered before crumbling completely. Whatever dark magic kept them sustained was either too weak to properly construct them or the source was long gone from the warehouse. All the same, it made them susceptible to blessed tools.

Their call would continue into the dark night, but no longer towards the warehouse. They burned with a present desire to be found, to be touched, to be observed. Even now they pulled on Ilse’s mind, hummed in Rufus’ head, called for Shika to move onwards to seek them out, and near screeched for Limen and Hanako to secure them. But there was something else calling out to the five demons and Youkai. Amidst all the fog stretching out from the black rocks there lay the buzzing of distorted music and a record scratching on a needle.

---

Biff. Pow. Whammo. Meow? All these sounds and more exited from the tussle between the foolhardy knight and collosal treant.



After what was no doubt a heroic clash filled with daring feats of great strength and skill, they broke apart, and Da-Xia finally took a moment to take stock of the situation.

"Is anyone else hearing ghost who is not super clear on how many heads snake has?" Da-Xia looked round herself for the voice, but did not quite make it out. The police where here now and before that, there was an even more pressing matter. Two maidens in distress, entreating her for rescue! Or at least, so it seemed to Da-Xia.

"Da-Xia will always lend a hand to those in need!" Da-Xia pulled up in front of the pair. Da-Xia was positively glowing with excitement to be staging a heroic rescue. And also positively glowing because she was slightly on fire, a patch of bark caught in her jacket being aflame. "Fair maidens, mount up, and hold fast!" She thundered with lance held heavenward, gleaming in the firelight. Presuming the pair came aboard, Da-Xia would hasten to carry them from the battlefield.

“Thank you for your patronage,” Shika called, bowing their head as the man exited the flower shop once more. The transaction had taken only a matter of minutes, and soon enough, the shop fell to a comfortable silence, broken only by the buzzing of LED lights. The corpse-flower closed their eyes briefly, listening for the distant calling of sirens, but frowned instead at the faint reverberations of an explosion. An explosion? No, more like many small ones. Violent firecrackers in the winter night. Curious. They leaned against wall, seeped back into the carpet of roots that covered the floor, and saw everything.

Cursed stones, reacting to conflict in explosive fashions. The DHA on the retreat and the yureis both on the retreat. A burning warehouse, and the police who arrived to respond. Their treant, scarred by explosion and shrapnel, its wooden form punctured by a heavy lance. Hm, what would be the appropriate methodology here…

“GURGH!” the treant groaned, creaking from the furious onslaught of the Motorcycle Knight. “To think that such a mighty foe would use their power to further scar the earth and poison the air! What misuse of strength, what abuse of force! Hear me, DHA. This is not over! I will have my satisfaction!!”

With a final, explosive cry of revengeance and despair, all the fungi on the treant exploded, a smokescreen of spores surging out and blinding those still inside the warehouse. Updrafts from the flames dispersed the spores soon enough, casting them skywards into the snowy night, and as the dust settled, the only trace that remained of the treant was that of the shattered concrete foundation that it had tore itself out of.

Now, the encounter was truly over.

Shika breathed out, their pale green eyes refocusing on their surroundings. Like slithering snakes, their roots slipped back into the recesses of the wall, and their feet touched the linoleum floor. Flicking out their smartphone, the corpse-flower scanned over the rest of their schedule, considered certain things for a bit longer, and then placed their right hand on top of their head. Pressing downwards, they split themselves in half vertically, a gooey, viscous sap forming strings between the two halves, before snapping off and regenerating into two different Shikas. One stared blankly at the other, and said, “Welcome to Eternally Yours. How may I help you?”

“Hm,” the other said, “could I have a recommendation?”

“Yes, of course. We’ve got a special deal on our Blue-Dyed Roses this month; 30% off on a beautiful flower meticulously preserved so that it will last a whole year without going bad. If you’re looking for s-”

“That’s good enough. Have fun at work.”

The clone closed their mouth, lips curved into a perpetually relaxed smile.

Shika headed upstairs, where their father, a fifty year old man who looked like quite the silver fox with his slicked back hair and his collared shirt, stood. A heavy coat and a scarf were in his hands, and upon their approach, he moved to dress them up, finishing the task off by tying the scarf into a cute little bow. Once done, he resumed his position beside the wall, staring off into a world that only he could see.

The corpse-flower chirped, “Thanks Dad! I’ll be back soon!”

There was no response from the man, but that was to be expected from such a taciturn, cool-headed silver fox as he. Shika smiled either way as they exited out of the back of the house. The night was young, and their schedule was open enough to allow for such detours in the day-to-day. Humming a cheery tune, they strode through the muted streets, feeling for that psychic tugging that had initially drawn them to the warehouse.

Hanako clapped, grinning like a dork when Da-Xia rode up to them and began shouting. She always expected DHA members to be insane, but sadly most of them were brooding psychopaths that could only feel elation by killing demons. Of course, this girl could still be that, but at least she was coated in the fun kind of crazy where she acted like a knight on a motorcycle. This was the sort of fun Hanako was sorely in need of.

Without a second thought, Hanako hopped up on the motorcycle.

"My hero, o beauteous knight in shining armor," Hanako gushed half ironically, "truly thou hath the valor of a hundred men. Perchance thou wouldst like bellytimber for thy strength?"

Hanako shoved a sheetpan half full of chocolate croissants at Da-Xia before they were to depart. The other half was filled with gun.

"Alas, thy steadfast companion hath swooned. Wouldst thou also keep his weapon safe that it might be repaired anon?"

Hanako could hear the record playing, could hear the stones calling out to her, but this seemed more fun. How often do you get to hitch a ride with a motorcycle knight?

Shortly after Kaze left the police showed up. How did he know? He was on nearby rooftops with his concrete and explosive rock cargo. It'd be suspicious if some random guy, clearly not Japanese, was lugging such a strange thing around. He didn't need to get stopped by patrolmen. So rooftops was his way of getting back to the DHA headquarters. Although once he got into more residential areas he would have to avoid the rooftops. Houses weren't built to handle his weight jumping in a concentrated area and the little alleys would be easier to lose people in.

So without further adieu he jumped. He hopped from rooftop to rooftop of the warehouses, specifically landing where a steal beam was. They were all cookie cutter so he went straight until the warehouses ended. From there he jumped off and into a copse of trees and looked around. His eyes still reptilian to better see any potential wandering dangers before he took off again. He should probably work on his speed, but that was a future endeavor.

He was quick enough to leave the industrial district behind, the cops had congregated at the warehouse fire and were already probably calling in their fire department. Although that fire really shouldn't last long, the building wasn't really flammable...but maybe something explosive was stored nearby? Meh, shouldn't store huge amounts of explosive stuff anyway. That's dumb.

With his mind wandering he kept his steady pace to get back to the Association so they could examine these rocks that seemed to blow up when...something happened.

Très bien indeed. Hanako’s French was more comme ci comme ça, but her baking was truly delicious. Limen was visibly satisfied, and his belly even more thoroughly so. Perhaps he could move in with this young youkai and have her stuff him with pastries and pies forever, should he ever get too lazy to forage for food. That sounded pleasant.

The supernatural screeching was far less pleasing, though. A barrier around his head didn’t reduce the volume any, nor did it shut out the 21st century atonal music that had emerged from the rocks. It was compelling him to come closer, but to call it a ‘siren song’ would be an insult to the creatures of myth. The rock-song was music only in the broadest sense, and this was coming from someone who had witnessed John Cage perform live.

If only to shut it up for a while…

Limen took the risk. Forming gloves — no, an entire hazmat suit around his body, just as a precaution, he scooped up a handful of the rocks and shovelled them into his backpack. There wasn’t anything too important in there, thankfully. Then he enclosed the whole thing in a spherical barrier, and then a back-up barrier. And maybe another four for good measure. Let’s put a little distance too; keep it about a metre or so away. Just precautions. Surely nobody would notice the perfectly reflective ball following behind him.

The additional croissants Hanako had proffered were as tempting a sight as any, though not as coercive as the rocks were. Maybe later. For now, Limen wanted both hands available to hold on to her as he took his place at the very back of the motorcycle. He didn’t have a helmet, after all. Not even Da-Xia had one, for that matter, despite wearing some sort of full body suit.

Safety wasn’t the Hunter’s forte, was it? Nor, it seemed, was observation. Limen hadn’t heard of boys being called ‘maidens’ since the Great Vowel Shift. Was it perhaps an obscure dialect of some variety? No one in their right mind would ever mistake him for a girl, after all. Not that it bothered him all too much either way, but — hmm. This lady was the one who had started the fire, was she not? Could she have possibly…

Nah, no way. Dialect it was.

“I’m ready. Where to, ma… non, notre chevalière servante? I haven’t got a house to go to.”

Adam had managed to elude the police, thanks to the help of those running away from the warehouse. A huff came from his lips as he made it across the way with Maurice, escaping the fire and trenent of the warehouse. The blood weapon he had held up until the point of the old man falling was now gone, the slit on his palm healed completely.

With as much of a gentle touch as he could give, Adam lowered Maurice into the snow, making sure his head was turned so he could breath. There was no way he would be able to get the man back to the DHA alone. At least, not without drawing suspicion from various parties that were out and about.

[color=ffd700]"I'll be right back," the young man doubted the older man would be able to hear him, if he were out still. Crossing the way again, Adam poked his head into the warehouse, scanning for the remaining people that would be there. Most had retreated by now - a smart thing to do.

"'Ello, mum?" Adam's eyes first landed on Beniha, a smile on his face as his eyes drifted out towards the burning warehouse. There were still a few others here, he saw, but she had been the closest. "The older gentlemen that fell earlier, he's out there," lifting his finger, he pointed to the outside snowy landscape. "I could use some help returning him to the DHA, if you'd be so kind."