In all honesty, she does not want to let them withdraw; not merely out of the desire to finish crushing them underfoot, and settle the matter here and there, before he is allowed to gather his strength, but also to question him more thoroughly. His answers are, to her, somewhat incoherent; that is to say, she's quite sure that he has no idea what he's on about, that he likely knows that, and is trying to hold onto whatever pride he can muster after being soundly defeated. She wouldn't assume that, even for him, the pain of something like a broken hand would set him into nonsensical babbling; if only because she couldn't bear to think so little of another. It is certainly possible, but he doesn't look quite that pathetic, so she dismisses it as readily as it comes. No, no. This is a rote misunderstanding, amplified by either a desire to save face - which she can understand, but not respect - or some desire to mislead her, which she can respect, but not understand. In the first place, if your intent was to confuse your opponent, the best time to start is before they best you in combat, not after, and you'd do well to have better lies prepared. It's all just... well, it sounds like random guesses, without any real education to guide them. It sounds like what you'd get from asking the most deplorable student to explain a reasonably complicated algebra expression. Thus, she rotely dismisses it, shaking her head.
Honestly, she's disappointed twice, now. First, she's disappointed that he was such a pushover in the fight, such that he had to use that much, and still fell easily, and twice, that he does not even seem to possess wisdom to offset that weakness. If he had simply said, 'I don't know, why are you asking me?' instead of running his mouth at her, with that condescending tone, she could respect him. If he had more reasonable answers, she could respect him. If he weren't so pitiable, she could respect him. But, it is what it is. Not everyone is going to be impressive, she realizes.
... In all honesty, she doesn't want to let him go. Not merely out of desire to try to help him understand the situation he's in, and how dangerous this gap is, and how little he seems to grasp about this war, to try to talk him out of killing himself at her, but also to - maybe - offer him the help of mending his hand. ... That's unwise, but it's her instinct regardless. It's only natural, right? If a 'hero' sees someone hurting, the only right decision is to reach out with both hands, even as they recoil. But she can't.
That monster there will kill her.
Even as powerful as she is, she cannot stand abreast with that thing. She knows that without a thought, merely instinctively. Well, she wasn't able to follow the fight behind her, but she felt it regardless. She knows immediately that this man is capable of cutting her down without a thought, and to dedicate herself in battle would be a relatively rapid way of killing herself. By means of his own protection, he cuts himself from help. She shakes her head again, and puts her hand up. They will not pursue.
"Don't seek me out."
That's all she'll say to him. If he fights her again, if she has his personality right at all, he'll end up dead. Maybe if he were more wise, he would manage to survive it - but he has shown her nothing of wisdom. So... So, if they fight again, she simply won't have a choice. And while it's what she likes as her nature, she can't save people who willing kill themselves on her fists. That's just rational. At the end of the day, she isn't some hero who can save everyone; she isn't any kind of hero at all. Regardless, with their withdrawal, the sharpness in her stance subtly leaves, and expression returns to her face, and she exhales lightly, before beaming up at her Servant. She's glad to see her unharmed - it would've bothered her if her Servant had been hurt while she was goofing off with that enemy. That is, if she was hurt because she didn't methodically and practically execute that man, she'd feel bad about it.
What's the real face of this woman? Is it the face she puts on when beating a man into shame, or is it this one, calmly smiling like nothing in the world is on her mind? She doesn't know, and she doesn't ask.
"I'm glad things went well for you, Caster. Thank you for holding that man off for a bit - if he had come too soon, I wouldn't have been able to win. You enjoyed yourself, I hope?" She isn't sure if she believes that, actually - if she hopes she enjoyed herself. Battle is meant to be a dedicated, harsh thing, but... well, people like speeding down backstreets, and that's pretty dangerous too, so she doesn't really think too hard about it, either. She's unwounded and not tired, so she'll continue what was, prior, a simple walk down the side of the Danube, at least for now.
The woman exhales. It is her opinion that this battle is, for all intents and purposes, settled; she has clearly demonstrated herself, and he has demonstrated himself. Furthermore, it is her opinion that she has learned more of him than he of her. At least, more of use. It is useless to understand that someone is this much stronger; it is very useful to understand that someone is this much weaker. What can be done to overcome the weakness? And, anything can be done to make use of this strength. Yes; by this demonstration alone, it has become clear. Without digging deep, without going out of her way, and without the support of her Servant, this is the result of even a single exchange of blows. She does not press further, however. She digs her feet into the ground, and draws herself up, but does not follow in for another blow. What is this? What predator does not slaughter its prey? What monster does not feast on flesh? Is this that damnable, disgusting pity? She doesn't know what to make of his words, but honestly assumes he might be delirious; she can't expect anything of his pain management. "I'm afraid I'm a special case; not so many are walking around, and guns would even bother me a good amount. Being shot at is a real nuisance." She does not relax. She does not drop her stance. But she is not killing him? Why? Why? Why?
Why take pity on him? Why spare him? Why not defeat the first opponent as she is now, before he is allowed to simmer in his bile and conceive a better way to cut her down? Surely, in a battle between her and his Servant, she would be slaughtered in a heartbeat - the gap between him and her, and the gap between him and that spirit are incomparable. Is it fear of that thing that holds her? If that's the case, she ought strike while he's weak, and murder him where he stands.
And, yet. "I would like to parley, now, please. I've little taste for killing that which still draws breath, and, thus far, you are such. There is no reason that I ought change that here and now." Disgusting. Disgusting confidence, that, if she spares him now, she could simply snuff him out later; that he poses no threat to her now, and will not later. What else could that be? What else could that possibly be? ... Of course, this is a misconception, and she is not a liar. She simply does not wish to kill him, and has no cause to, as he is not a pressing threat. She prefers not to kill, and would prefer not to be forced to kill him, here and now. Especially not while he may be so useful. Her 'battle face' finally loosens, even if her stance remains firm.
"Tell me what you know about this war; how did the Holy Grail come to be here, in Hungary? Who brought it here? Who owns the land we're standing on? Are you an agent of the Holy Church?"
She spares a thought for her Caster, and her tone internally is far, far more amused than her exterior. Got em'.
She makes no threats, now, nor does she step towards him again. Indeed, her presence alone must be taken as a threat to his very life. But she also does not apologize. Why should she? What sin is there in hurting someone in a war; what crime is there in beating someone at a fight they opted into? In this, he is right. This is simply her nature. Her nature is to be strong, her way is to solve problems, and her path is to be beloved for it.
It's only natural to wince when the sun shines on you.
Well, she isn't surprised. "Oh, that's the trick. Oi, Caster --- Try to keep his Servant back there, please. However it suits you. I think I'll be done soon." Speaking frankly, she takes note of the weird puppets, and decides she largely does not care about them; they are a nonfactor. She will be done before they are at all relevant. In the first place, attempting to draw a magic circle, in her direct line of sight, whilst she is actively aggressing on him, is simply not worth his time. It isn't that it takes much time; it is that every heartbeat matters in this confrontation. Perhaps if he were faster - perhaps if he were more capable - perhaps, then, it would be worth doing. However, when facing down a woman such as this, every single wasted action, every single wasted thought, increases the chance of being slaughtered. She will not allow him the peace of that circle, whatever the point of it may be. If he wishes to complete it, the cost is 'a punch to the face', which may well spell death, so far as he knows. Her motion is exquisite, born only from the kind of practice that one gets from years of hard practice, and harder experience. He has made an assumption of her -
She has not shown anything that would imply she is a monster. She has not shown anything, however, but that she is swift of foot and capable of not being hit by a thrown Key, if she puts her mind to it. She's actually even slightly surprised that has opted to close in on her, but not so surprised that she's put in a worse position by it. Perhaps, she thinks, he is as foolish as I expected? Finally, she can actually begin to fight him.
The puppet is, perhaps, threatening enough to respect; it is fast, and likely strong. Her motion hesitates for only a second, while it attacks, before she steps back into him directly. Her motion is unsteady, uneven, and her hands are up now as she presses into him. That is - she won't stay still for even a second, shifting her body to and fro, to make getting an actual hit on her much, much worse. Her motion is toned and sure, even if it isn't sharp - she must be a martial artist, to move this way. An extra step into him; a fist is thrown for the left side of his torso. Her left hand, in a leather glove, jabs out with blinding, disgusting speed. She could, without a doubt, attempt to outright kill him here and now.
The woman opposite him shrugs, lightly shifting her shoulders. "Suit yourself." Saying it like that, it carries a different weight to it; her words do not have the same light manner as her motion, or the words. Really, that's the kind of thing that could be said right before you shot a man. That's to say, she could've said "Your funeral." in the same way, with the same tone, with the same cadence, and it wouldn't sound at all incorrect. Right out, she's decided she does not like this man. It is nothing about him in particular. It is nothing, quite, that he's said, or done. There's no reason to be upset at someone in a war for attempting to strike the first blow. Perhaps it's just that she, in a way, finds his tone wrong. Perhaps it's that she sees someone like that attack her - after she went out of her way! - as something pitiable. Maybe he's just too dour, too 'not her type'. Well-----
It doesn't make a difference, because that kind of thing wouldn't change anything for her. She's certain that, even if she found him charming outright, she could shatter every bone in his body without wincing once. That's the kind of person she is; a troubleshooter. Her motion is not 'just barely faster than a human', as his is. The difference between them is clear in the first step - the gap is demonstrated in just that first motion. Without observation, one would be confused - it would look like a trick of the light. She is a step from where she began, having shifted her feet. The snow, apparently, is no match for her ability to walk to the side. It is correct, then, to say that her ability is much closer to 'just barely beyond the bounds of human.'
Her smile disappears as she moves on him, now. Her boots do not sink into the snow; why is that? All of her facial expressions disappear. It is not that the 'go hard, like she is made of stone', nor is it that 'she puts on a mask', or anything along those lines. It is that she, simply, does not feel anything in this moment of motion. Her hands are up, now, as she shifts forwards towards him. It's a difficult situation, she believes; he has an absolute advantage at range, but as soon as this advantage is gone, she ought crush him with ease. She commits herself to this directly. She is, without a single doubt, faster than he is. ... She is wary, still.
There's no way anyone is this stupid. That's what she's thinking; there is absolutely no way this person is so stupid as to do something like this without a deeper plan, trap, or gambit waiting. She swerves her body at a wider angle. She doesn't want to get too far from Caster, either, but she's certain that he doesn't have the time or distance to get her there. The question, then, she's working on is this. 'What is the nature of the fight I am in?' If this is fight in the nature of 'physical might' or 'personal skill', she is certain she can surpass him. If it isn't that nature, what trick does he have to alter the scale? If that's the case, what can she do to make this fight within one of her strongpoints again?
Thought does not beget hesitation. After all, even if he has some other plan, she's faster than him, and moving through the snow is easy. Many men who thought themselves clever die to people who are, in fact, simply stronger. She can consider the possibilities and stay wary while pressing closer to his personal space, rushing him down all at once.
There were only a few of her familiars to cut down; overall, it was not particularly necessary to employ them, if that's the way they're going to approach them. Sending up a flare...? In all honesty, it isn't the kind of thing she understands at all. It isn't the kind of thing she's likely to grasp the utility of. There's just no way she'd make a connection between 'getting rid of witnesses' and 'sending something like that into the air'. As far as she's concerned, that kind of thing would only attract, not reduce, attention. In the end, she dismisses it; it's more likely, she thinks, that they just know something she doesn't, or has some additional twinkle of a plan that would make the act more reasonable. No cause to judge without sufficient information. ... Aside from, of course, the simple prejudice of 'I could surely do better', but that's her pride on the line, and that, she can't surrender, no matter how reasonable.
She loosely raises her left hand, and bows her head slightly. "Good evening," she begins. She does not step back when she sees her opponents. Meeting their eye, and looking over both, she apprises them. Walking up to them like this implies only a few options, and she must entertain each.
First. They may, indeed, be consummate fools; this is surely what they look like, standing on the edge of the river, out of cover and conspicuously. However, she does not find this likely enough - or, rather, she holds that if that's the case, it's good, but assuming that it's true is too dangerous. While one should never underestimate their opponent, it's important to also not overestimate them. That's to say, if it seems good enough to take, she'll take it. Better than withdrawing without showing your hand is to win in such a way that no one knows what happened at all, she thinks.
Second. They could be up to something; this is the much more likely case, certainly. She's at an advantage on that token, at least - they can no longer trick her by trying some odd shell-game with their Servant. At least, she presumes that the one with the bow is more likely to be a Servant than a Master. A guess, but a good enough one. In that way, they've already revealed a little more than they have. That degree of certainty that she possesses is good for her.
Third. They might expect a parley. Of course, if this is the case, they may be fools, and there is no further need to think on the matter.
"I trust the snow is of little concern for you?" She smiles, a little. There isn't any malice in it; she's just kind of amused with her joke. She isn't overwhelmingly interested in their answer, however. "... Ah, I'm not much used to talking before I fight, you know? It's really not my style at all. No need, mostly - so, if you want to get to the point, I wouldn't blame you. This situation is different, of course, so if it pleases you to trade pleasantries, and set some kind of terms or something like that, that's fine too. Be my guest." She realizes, now, that she was wrong from the outset.
She can definitely get far, far more on edge. She didn't think she could until she was facing down her enemy, but now she knows better - everything in her life before does not compare to this exact moment. This exact tension before this exact battle. She wonders - has it started in other places? Is this the first confrontation in this war? Or have others already died, without her knowing at all? This, she pushes out of her mind. That is for later. When she lives. Her mouth dries out, but she retains her focus.
That isn't to say she doesn't like it. Her chest pounding. Her body and mind sub-consciously sharpening for the combat to come. It's everything she can do to keep her cool, and it's everything she can do to make herself ready for this tension to break, and for one side to walk away victors, and the other to - perhaps - not walk away at all.
It is untrue that she is particularly 'more on edge' from the rapidly changing situation. This would imply that she was not already as on edge as she could possibly be; in this way, she considers herself an ideal warrior. From the moment she first summoned her Caster, she has been on edge. She has been waiting for the fight to, eventually, begin. ... It's not a pleasant way to be, and if asked, she would loudly and gladly decry it as a foolish lifestyle, but that it was, regardless, her way. She looks to her side, and mutters - that stinging does not distract her.
Well, it isn't supposed to, right? This is meant to be her reason to focus. If she has to fight, then she'll fight. It's about time she gets to work, here. "... Be wary, Caster. I don't want to overplay our hand. If we can win without showing off, that's what's best." She's kind of... firm. That is, awkward. She's not really used to working with anything with as much an expressive personality as this woman. It's awkward for her, because she can't compartmentalize it as easily. There's something to be said for a 'lone huntress', and in this war, she isn't going to get to be that. There will be some awkwardness while she adjusts, is all. She doesn't sit with her, though there is a passing fancy where she does strongly consider it - it would be nice, she supposes. The thought is swiftly abandoned. She also doesn't move away from her, though, standing behind her, her hands hidden in her sleeves. "It's not surprising that we'll encounter an enemy, though. Even this early. If they're clever, they have the same idea as me, here - they probably don't want to show off all their tricks so soon. If we have to withdraw, though, there's no shame in that."
That, she truly believes. Living is the most important thing, after all. She's no samurai, and can barely be considered a warrior, in the traditional sense. Instead, she has no real illusions about her nature; she is just a hunter. If she has to be underhanded to win, she does not care. If she has to flee, or even surrender, she does not have shame in this. Glory is found only in victory, not in the way you find victory. This is the nature of killers, she believes, and so she can say that kind of thing. Nothing wrong with that, as far as she's concerned.
Her arms leave her sleeves, and she glances to the side. Already, a small set of familiars - spirits bound in bird corpses - are shifting to help with the hunt. The sooner she finds the enemy master, the sooner she can engage him. "Hunt." That aside, there is nothing to show in her look, her bearing, or her stance that would imply she is about to be in a fight. She is simply waiting for the battle to begin.
"All that said, Caster, I do hope that this display can impress you."
Previous Alignment(s): The Association, but only by convenience; her kind keeps to itself, far away from petty political squabbles.
Motivation for the Holy Grail: "Bring my land back to what it was." Remove the influence of secular logic from the governance and people. Return the nation to what it was before; a land where her kind were required, and respected.
Personality: An existence at the knife's edge. The split between 'the caretaker of a small town' and 'a cold blooded huntress' cannot actually be said to exist in her mentality - they are not mutually exclusive. In fact, the latter is considered component of the former, and that it would be impossible to manage the spiritual needs and protect them from restless spirits without that cold iron at her core, to push her so. Kasumi's life is that of one spent making herself continuously necessary and reliable, but this is not out of a sense of obligation, nor a sense of genuine good-heartedness. Her ideals are hollow; her ambitions selfish. She wants to be necessary because she loves the look in the eye, and the tone the people use when they say, "I need your help, Ōishi-sama." And, always, she would smile without fail, as largehearted as any hero would, and reply, "Of course. What do you need?" Her entire life is spent garnering the respect, the adoration, of people around her, but only ever for herself.
In this way, she's a rotten person, who really only cares for herself, but takes care of everyone else, anyway. And, so, she forms a strange twinned nature in herself. On one hand, a reliable, upbeat, helpful woman, capable of handling anything put to her - a pillar of her community, and a friend to everyone. On the other, a self-centered narcissist, working in the light only to fulfill her ego. No one can argue that the results are largely negative; she does, in fact, help people and make their lives materially better, but it's also natural to be repulsed by that nature. In all honesty, she's as disgusted by herself as you ought be. When every smile is a lie, when ever promise is self serving, when your entire nature is a facade --- well, that's what being a magus is. Even with all the praise she gets, it isn't enough. Still, she wants for more - there are enough stories of the old days she heard in her training that she couldn't help but wish for those days. Those days when her kind would have the ear of kings. Things in those days, she's sure, were better.
Biography: It is wholly improper to discuss mikoism and the families involved in the practice without also discussing the influence of Buddhism and the slow erosion of the rights and traditions of the practice in the mid 1700s. Our story, of course, does not start there; the legacy of this family stretches back century, administering and protecting a small village, and advising the local warlord. They were a permanent fixture on the land, as immovable as the mountains. Lords would come and go, but the Ōishi would stay. It couldn't last forever, though - for hundreds of years since before her family was established, the Buddhists were, gradually, shifting the political and religious landscape. It was a glacial process, but over time, the lords turned away from her family, as they turned away from mikos across the nation. The emperor fell from heaven, and became a mere mortal, only to be briefly restored directly before a cataclysmic war, where he promptly fell from grace again. In the end, it was always damned; the influence of Western thought, the arrival of Buddhists, the steady decline of their magecraft. All of these and more would lead to the decline of their tradition, bringing them from a center point of daily life to a mere curio - a sideshow.
This state of affairs, obviously, disgusts Kasumi and her family. It is the shame and disgust of lost pride, of status denied, and of power stripped away. It is not, however, a loss in regards to wealth; this family was never particularly wealthy, so one cannot blame their frustration on greed of that kind. This is entirely based on their pride. Modern society has little need of them, compared to those long gone days.
But to focus more tightly on what, rather than who, this family is, an analysis of their magecraft tells much of the story. They are an 'animal family' - respected, but feared, and rarely mingled with. They serve a dog god, a hunt goddess, and thus are hunters themselves, their entire lives focused on the destruction of 'the profane'; these days, that mostly means wraiths, but they have hunted Dead Apostles at some points of their history, as well. It's possible that, once, some of there number were genuinely noble protectors of the weak, resolving trouble just for the sake of it, though this is no longer the case. In modern nights, the hunts are more simple than before. In modern nights, the praise is thinner than before. In modern nights, there is less and less need for those who stand in that darkness to protect the everyman, and the everyman does not believe in them in the first place. For a family that has always focused on protecting the affairs of the modern world, instead of entirely self enrichment, the reason to go on seems ever more distant as time goes on. In other words, by dedicating their lives to humans, they have been absolutely left behind and made irrelevant. Eventually, they're sure, they will simply burn out, the last echoes of a dying kind, with nothing to mark their place in history, their only memory played out by those who dress and act the way they do, but are not them.
Such is the life of a magus.
Elemental Affinity: Average One
Magic Circuit Switch: (We shall grant you this knowledge.)
Number of Magic Circuits: D
Quality of Magic Circuits: C
Magecraft: Mikoism - A genuinely common and widespread cultural phenomenon even in modern day Shinto temples - the women attendants of the thousands of shrines across the nation. This is a role that's fairly common; some families do it as a part of a long family tradition, some women do it as a short job to help get through their mundane education. This is, however, not the implication that they are all secretly magus. Instead, it should be understood that they are 'miko, but do not practice mikoism'. In the days long since passed, being a miko was to be mystical - to practice the secret magic arts of the Shinto faith. To commune with the gods, to speak to the dead, to cleanse sin and impurity, and to annihilate evil spirits that clung to the world. For hundreds of years, this was the understanding of the world; miko were those who spoke to gods, and that was that. This, obviously, could not hold - though it did hold here relatively longer than most other 'civilized' nations, it could not last forever. Regulation began, and slowly, the understanding of the role of miko would disappear, remaining mainly in the aesthetic, and not in function.
Of course, this collapse is mirrored in nearly every other place in the world, so it isn't really that special.
Mikoism is fundamentally a shamanistic practice, largely component of communing with gods and spirits. To this end, Kasumi is skilled in various possession techniques and the investment of spirits into physical objects. Further, the Ōishi family is tied to dog spirits, and makes use of them in much of their magecraft. Miko are also known as those that manage sin and impurity, and so she can be considered an expert in washing away sin. It is also possible to invoke parts of gods; that is, to utilize the name and power of the various Shinto gods to evoke a related effect. This should not be misunderstood as something so grandiose as 'a fragment of Authority', but rather merely a reference to them.
Curses - An unspoken truth of miko and shaman generally is their relationship to witchcraft and black magic; that vile art of cursing a man to misfortune or death. This would seem to be a complete turn from the rest her nature; how can one who goes hand in hand with gods dirty oneself with curses? But this is a human misunderstanding - in the first place, they were always the same. Miko, and especially those belonging to 'animal family', and especially those with ties to inugami - dog spirits - were always feared, and with good reason. With knowledge of purity, comes knowledge of sin. With understanding of the divine comes understanding of the profane. This must be understood. Thus, it should be considered natural that even one who wishes to destroy evil spirits might find this capacity. Generally speaking, these curses are performed and exercised by the means of her animal spirits as a delivery mechanism, but this can go as far as ordering them to outright possess a person to drive them mad and make them ill. In the old days, it was said that those killed by this method were found with dozens of bite marks across their body. These days, it's just that they got sick and died.
Magic Crest: The Ōishi crest is approximately five hundred years old, and mostly contains the secrets in regards to communicating with their family spirits and kami. The formation was done to help compete with the western tradition, if the case arose - this is one way that they went well out of their way to 'keep with the times', so to speak. The crest was formed around an old set of stone-etched purity seals, but that is no longer relevant.
Equipment: Empty Palm Soulsnatchers - A pair of leather gloves woven together with her own grandmother's hair. The quality of these gloves is exceptionally high, but they are otherwise unassuming; at least, without deeper analysis. They are not, however, for common glove tasks. Instead, they are made entirely for the purpose of combat. Each glove has a inugami resting inside; the right hand is possessed by a purified dog spirit, making it superlative for the purpose of sublimating spirits and curses. The left glove is possessed by a profane dog spirit, making it a superlative cursing tool. In other words, the right hand is 'for defeating spirits', and the left hand is 'for defeating humans'. This is, obviously, a relation to the common understanding of 'right and left hand paths', but it can't be said that the relation goes particularly deep. Being invested with spirits of this nature give way to generally enhanced reaction time and punching strength. Additionally, owing to their nature as 'hunting dogs', after a target is sublimated, the spirits inhabiting the gloves consume the spirit, enriching them.
Mobile Shrine "Kyoiku" - A small stone statuette in the shape of a dog. This statuette is hundreds of years old, and was created as the shintai of the Ōishi family spirit - an inugami, naturally. The nature of this particular family kami defines the rest of the spirits used by her family, and it's nature is that of hunting. The core of this spirit is hunting others and consuming them to grow stronger, and thus all of the other spirits are the same; it is a line of hunting dogs, after all. Materialization of this spirit is not normally possible owing to the era, but it is possible to invoke it for various purposes, and through the process of kuchiyose, it may even possess Kasumi for various purposes, such as divination or increased senses. This is not one of the cruel 'cursing gods' found in some tradition, but it is still a vicious creature meant for hunting and killing, rather than giving blessings.
Woven Stone - The outfit she actually wears out is haunted; it has a dog spirit living inside of it and is aligned to stone, granting it armor like qualities while only slightly effecting the weight. Mundane weaponry is somewhat mitigated, but not outright obviated. It is also flame retardant.
Swiftfoot Treaders - Her shoes are possessed by a dog spirit aligned with the wind, and grant improved swiftness and agility when worn. Additionally, though the affect is vastly inferior to her gloves, they somewhat improve kicking ability.
Gehobako - A red lacquer chest which she keeps her belongings within. It contains a Bounded Field which obscures the inside by way of making it appear 'entirely pure', such that anything within is overshadowed. It is also the domicile of most of her spirits, and if it is opened without her permission, they will attack and attempt to curse whoever opened it to death.
Azusa Bow - A bow strung with her own hair, for use in various purification and sanctification ritual. The bow is well made and sturdy, and its primary use is in purifying a space or an object within it, and can be used to serve as the centerpiece of a temple, or 'the domicile of a god'.
Purification Equipment - An assortment of seals and substances which are used to ward off and cleanse impurity - this is distinct form the bow, which is a more specialized tool. This is mostly to absolve herself of the taint related to curses, but can also be used to cleanse a cursed object or defend oneself from hostile curses.
I'm nearly 100 percent done, I just want to work on the names of the Mystic Codes a little bit more; consider them draft names, please!
Name: Ōishi Kasumi
Gender: Female
Age: 54
Previous Alignment(s): The Association, but only by convenience; her kind keeps to itself, far away from petty political squabbles.
Motivation for the Holy Grail: "Bring my land back to what it was." Remove the influence of secular logic from the governance and people. Return the nation to what it was before; a land where her kind were required, and respected.
Personality: An existence at the knife's edge. The split between 'the caretaker of a small town' and 'a cold blooded huntress' cannot actually be said to exist in her mentality - they are not mutually exclusive. In fact, the latter is considered component of the former, and that it would be impossible to manage the spiritual needs and protect them from restless spirits without that cold iron at her core, to push her so. Kasumi's life is that of one spent making herself continuously necessary and reliable, but this is not out of a sense of obligation, nor a sense of genuine good-heartedness. Her ideals are hollow; her ambitions selfish. She wants to be necessary because she loves the look in the eye, and the tone the people use when they say, "I need your help, Ōishi-sama." And, always, she would smile without fail, as largehearted as any hero would, and reply, "Of course. What do you need?" Her entire life is spent garnering the respect, the adoration, of people around her, but only ever for herself.
In this way, she's a rotten person, who really only cares for herself, but takes care of everyone else, anyway. And, so, she forms a strange twinned nature in herself. On one hand, a reliable, upbeat, helpful woman, capable of handling anything put to her - a pillar of her community, and a friend to everyone. On the other, a self-centered narcissist, working in the light only to fulfill her ego. No one can argue that the results are largely negative; she does, in fact, help people and make their lives materially better, but it's also natural to be repulsed by that nature. In all honesty, she's as disgusted by herself as you ought be. When every smile is a lie, when ever promise is self serving, when your entire nature is a facade --- well, that's what being a magus is. Even with all the praise she gets, it isn't enough. Still, she wants for more - there are enough stories of the old days she heard in her training that she couldn't help but wish for those days. Those days when her kind would have the ear of kings. Things in those days, she's sure, were better.
Biography: It is wholly improper to discuss mikoism and the families involved in the practice without also discussing the influence of Buddhism and the slow erosion of the rights and traditions of the practice in the mid 1700s. Our story, of course, does not start there; the legacy of this family stretches back century, administering and protecting a small village, and advising the local warlord. They were a permanent fixture on the land, as immovable as the mountains. Lords would come and go, but the Ōishi would stay. It couldn't last forever, though - for hundreds of years since before her family was established, the Buddhists were, gradually, shifting the political and religious landscape. It was a glacial process, but over time, the lords turned away from her family, as they turned away from mikos across the nation. The emperor fell from heaven, and became a mere mortal, only to be briefly restored directly before a cataclysmic war, where he promptly fell from grace again. In the end, it was always damned; the influence of Western thought, the arrival of Buddhists, the steady decline of their magecraft. All of these and more would lead to the decline of their tradition, bringing them from a center point of daily life to a mere curio - a sideshow.
This state of affairs, obviously, disgusts Kasumi and her family. It is the shame and disgust of lost pride, of status denied, and of power stripped away. It is not, however, a loss in regards to wealth; this family was never particularly wealthy, so one cannot blame their frustration on greed of that kind. This is entirely based on their pride. Modern society has little need of them, compared to those long gone days.
But to focus more tightly on what, rather than who, this family is, an analysis of their magecraft tells much of the story. They are an 'animal family' - respected, but feared, and rarely mingled with. They serve a dog god, a hunt goddess, and thus are hunters themselves, their entire lives focused on the destruction of 'the profane'; these days, that mostly means wraiths, but they have hunted Dead Apostles at some points of their history, as well. It's possible that, once, some of there number were genuinely noble protectors of the weak, resolving trouble just for the sake of it, though this is no longer the case. In modern nights, the hunts are more simple than before. In modern nights, the praise is thinner than before. In modern nights, there is less and less need for those who stand in that darkness to protect the everyman, and the everyman does not believe in them in the first place. For a family that has always focused on protecting the affairs of the modern world, instead of entirely self enrichment, the reason to go on seems ever more distant as time goes on. In other words, by dedicating their lives to humans, they have been absolutely left behind and made irrelevant. Eventually, they're sure, they will simply burn out, the last echoes of a dying kind, with nothing to mark their place in history, their only memory played out by those who dress and act the way they do, but are not them.
Such is the life of a magus.
Elemental Affinity: Average One
Magic Circuit Switch: (We shall grant you this knowledge.)
Number of Magic Circuits: D
Quality of Magic Circuits: C
Magecraft: Mikoism - A genuinely common and widespread cultural phenomenon even in modern day Shinto temples - the women attendants of the thousands of shrines across the nation. This is a role that's fairly common; some families do it as a part of a long family tradition, some women do it as a short job to help get through their mundane education. This is, however, not the implication that they are all secretly magus. Instead, it should be understood that they are 'miko, but do not practice mikoism'. In the days long since passed, being a miko was to be mystical - to practice the secret magic arts of the Shinto faith. To commune with the gods, to speak to the dead, to cleanse sin and impurity, and to annihilate evil spirits that clung to the world. For hundreds of years, this was the understanding of the world; miko were those who spoke to gods, and that was that. This, obviously, could not hold - though it did hold here relatively longer than most other 'civilized' nations, it could not last forever. Regulation began, and slowly, the understanding of the role of miko would disappear, remaining mainly in the aesthetic, and not in function.
Of course, this collapse is mirrored in nearly every other place in the world, so it isn't really that special.
Mikoism is fundamentally a shamanistic practice, largely component of communing with gods and spirits. To this end, Kasumi is skilled in various possession techniques and the investment of spirits into physical objects. Further, the Ōishi family is tied to dog spirits, and makes use of them in much of their magecraft. Miko are also known as those that manage sin and impurity, and so she can be considered an expert in washing away sin. It is also possible to invoke parts of gods; that is, to utilize the name and power of the various Shinto gods to evoke a related effect. This should not be misunderstood as something so grandiose as 'a fragment of Authority', but rather merely a reference to them.
Curses - An unspoken truth of miko and shaman generally is their relationship to witchcraft and black magic; that vile art of cursing a man to misfortune or death. This would seem to be a complete turn from the rest her nature; how can one who goes hand in hand with gods dirty oneself with curses? But this is a human misunderstanding - in the first place, they were always the same. Miko, and especially those belonging to 'animal family', and especially those with ties to inugami - dog spirits - were always feared, and with good reason. With knowledge of purity, comes knowledge of sin. With understanding of the divine comes understanding of the profane. This must be understood. Thus, it should be considered natural that even one who wishes to destroy evil spirits might find this capacity. Generally speaking, these curses are performed and exercised by the means of her animal spirits as a delivery mechanism, but this can go as far as ordering them to outright possess a person to drive them mad and make them ill. In the old days, it was said that those killed by this method were found with dozens of bite marks across their body. These days, it's just that they got sick and died.
Magic Crest: The Ōishi crest is approximately five hundred years old, and mostly contains the secrets in regards to communicating with their family spirits and kami. The formation was done to help compete with the western tradition, if the case arose - this is one way that they went well out of their way to 'keep with the times', so to speak. The crest was formed around an old set of stone-etched purity seals, but that is no longer relevant.
Equipment: Dog Gloves - A pair of leather gloves woven together with her own grandmother's hair. The quality of these gloves is exceptionally high, but they are otherwise unassuming; at least, without deeper analysis. They are not, however, for common glove tasks. Instead, they are made entirely for the purpose of combat. Each glove has a inugami resting inside; the right hand is possessed by a purified dog spirit, making it superlative for the purpose of sublimating spirits and curses. The left glove is possessed by a profane dog spirit, making it a superlative cursing tool. In other words, the right hand is 'for defeating spirits', and the left hand is 'for defeating humans'. This is, obviously, a relation to the common understanding of 'right and left hand paths', but it can't be said that the relation goes particularly deep. Being invested with spirits of this nature give way to generally enhanced reaction time and punching strength. Additionally, owing to their nature as 'hunting dogs', after a target is sublimated, the spirits inhabiting the gloves consume the spirit, enriching them.
Shard of Inu - A small stone statuette in the shape of a dog. This statuette is hundreds of years old, and was created as the shintai of the Ōishi family spirit - an inugami, naturally. The nature of this particular family kami defines the rest of the spirits used by her family, and it's nature is that of hunting. The core of this spirit is hunting others and consuming them to grow stronger, and thus all of the other spirits are the same; it is a line of hunting dogs, after all. Materialization of this spirit is not normally possible owing to the era, but it is possible to invoke it for various purposes, and through the process of kuchiyose, it may even possess Kasumi for various purposes, such as divination or increased senses. This is not one of the cruel 'cursing gods' found in some tradition, but it is still a vicious creature meant for hunting and killing, rather than giving blessings.
Vestments - The outfit she actually wears out is haunted; it has a dog spirit living inside of it and is aligned to stone, granting it armor like qualities while only slightly effecting the weight. Mundane weaponry is somewhat mitigated, but not outright obviated. It is also flame retardant.
Boots of Running - Her shoes are possessed by a dog spirit aligned with the wind, and grant improved swiftness and agility when worn. Additionally, though the affect is vastly inferior to her gloves, they somewhat improve kicking ability.
Miko Box - A red lacquer chest which she keeps her belongings within. It contains a Bounded Field which obscures the inside by way of making it appear 'entirely pure', such that anything within is overshadowed. It is also the domicile of most of her spirits, and if it is opened without her permission, they will attack and attempt to curse whoever opened it to death.
Azusa Bow - A bow strung with her own hair, for use in various purification and sanctification ritual. The bow is well made and sturdy, and its primary use is in purifying a space or an object within it, and can be used to serve as the centerpiece of a temple, or 'the domicile of a god'.
Purification Equipment - An assortment of seals and substances which are used to ward off and cleanse impurity - this is distinct form the bow, which is a more specialized tool. This is mostly to absolve herself of the taint related to curses, but can also be used to cleanse a cursed object or defend oneself from hostile curses.
Not a hit. Not a good hit, that is. It was enough of one. And now, to his defense. He turns in the air, and his hand sings out - the string of his bow does not cease even for a moment. An attack like this is not so bad, he reasons. After all, these are barely more than men. What are men to him? They're nothing. This is nothing. His body twists in the air - fifty isn't enough. Hundred isn't enough. A thousand - well, you might get somewhere with a thousand, to be fair. His quiver does not empty, and his hands do not still. The arrows meet arrows, and his win out every time. Of course they would. Entering a contest of archery with an Archer is only bound for failure. The sky is clear before he even touches the ground. Ah, yes, the ground. His body turns again, and again he works.
He doesn't need to kill all a hundred of them before he touches the ground. Only those near where he's landing. Watching their movements makes it easy. They're preparing to attack, so he'll just anticipate each and every of their strikes on the way down. He'll watch to see which plan to stab him as he falls. Which plan to bind his limbs when he lands. Which plan to defend their allies from his lethal arrows. All this taken in but a second as he falls back to Earth. His bow sings out again. Half a dozen arrows, with exacting aim. He'll take them through gaps in their armor, through weak points in their defenses to assure they each fall with a singular arrow. Of course, that's all but assured - after all, they aren't even as durable as he is.
... But, all that said, 'surrounded' still isn't a place he wants to be. If only because it means his arrows can't reach his true opponent as well as he'd like. It would be harder for him to kill the man. So, he steps around and through, ducking, rolling, and maneuvering around them. It's like shifting through a shifting maze of knives. It's essentially impossible, at least from his position, to get out of it without being cut and stabbed, navigating away from the worst of it, even while he drills into them with arrows from just a foot away. He bleeds, but does not slow, leaping away from the trap he found on the ground.
He's pretty sure he could kill him, if he wanted it. As far as he's concerned, the battle is going in his favor. But he doesn't notch another arrow, once he's free. Instead, he looks past the army, at the man.
"Hmm. I think not, no. I've been told to leave. Tonight just isn't my night... First, that woman, and now this." Even that said, he doesn't turn his back on him. Or his army. He fights best when he can see his opponents, after all.
"I'll be going now. You can chase me if you want. Just know that you'll die if you do."
It isn't a threat, and he says it with plenty of levity. But it's a warning. They can break the fight now, or he can continue to fight. He isn't maintaining soldiers, or using any Noble Phantasm. And what he does have isn't taxing. Even with the damage he's taken, he still feels like he's better off, right now.
He does not bow, or anything in supplication, before he turns his back on the man and his army, and starts moving away. Rooftop to rooftop. It isn't that he's opposed to being someone's soldier, and the vanguard of their army. It's that he just doesn't like the look of that man or his army. Something smells off is the only explanation he could give, if asked.
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