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    1. Reflection 11 yrs ago

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I AM GLORIOUS!

@ColourlessKing@Scallop@Duoya - In the Riverbed

The craft's pilot was finally visible as it spun around in mid-air. The jets cutting off, and then reigniting in a moment to do a complete 180 in the air after a first failed attack. The pilot sat on top. A man in black armor, warped beyond visibility. Even looking at him was a nightmare, but it hardly seemed to matter as the vessel he was controlling was very much on the attack again.

Mu's attack struck the armored knight, and despite its power all it did was stagger the monster, nearly knocking him off his vessel. Perhaps that was the opening needed. As Diarmuid, the brave knight of Fionn leapt into the fray. The monsterous attacker's attention turned away from the master and her servant, allowing another attack from Mu to strike Berserker again. Each time he shrugged off the attack, but each time it kept him from focusing in totally upon the Saber. Allowing Diarmuid to close the gap, and burst right in.

Berserker's craft crashed into a wall of the riverbed. Smoke and dust obscuring him as he stood, finally freeing himself from the remnants of his weapon. Yet he hardly seemed phased as he leapt down from the Riverbed. His head turned, looking directly at Mu, as if silently blaming him for all this. Then...

The helmet split. A mass of tentacles bursting out of every corner of that broken helmet, knocking the two halves to the side. The face was a horrible wailing monster of tentacles and teeth. Then, it paused as if hearing a sound that none of them could hear. And so, it walked away from the wounded knight and the chaldean operatives. As if it no longer cared about them.

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@Letter Bee@SSW@Cu Chulainn - In the Middle of the City District

The sound of gunfire filled the air again, as a bullet flew well above Saber's head, only to be deflected by one of the assassins who were now paying more attention to the gunner than to Don Juan himself. Thankfully, the loss of one of their members seemed to have made them passive. Almost as if they were in silent discussion with each other.

The sniper though, was on the move, as a shadow could be seen running between broken windows. "Swordsman, where is your master!?" The voice though, was as sweet as honey to Saber's ears. The voice of a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. She became visible as she stopped finally in front of a window, and she was indeed what Saber had hoped for. Beautiful.
"Saber, tell your master that he has to get out of the city, and across the river! He isn't safe in the city!" She shouted again. Her eyes on him.

Then, she jumped. Catching a long hanging wire, she slid down, as if full expecting this mysterious Saber servant to catch her and carry her away. She probably wasn't wrong. "I'll explain more when we're out of the way. Those things are probably deciding on which is in charge now, but it won't take them much longer."
@Demous To be fair, Yin and Yang are just the general elements within all ninja. I think he's referring more to the advanced techniques that specifically call themselves Yin Style/Yang Style, since those tend to be outright broken. Like reversing death or everlasting illusions made real.
@Hawthorne Yes, the open slot is a servant slot. Here is a link to the Discord Server if you want to talk more about your interest.
HELLO! I am making this announcement to anybody who is interested. At the moment, due to a series of drop outs, we have one free spot open. I have contacted each of the people on the Waiting list, but I have received no replies after roughly four days.

If anybody is interested in claiming that one open spot, let me know.
@Blizz Left their villages, right? Sorry, just making sure I'm getting that right, and you're not actually saying the organization is breaking up.
Big Naruto fan. Throwing my interest in. Might be interested in making a member of Karasu. I'll have to brainstorm some ideas in the mean time.
@Yankee - Crazy Horse, near the edge of the city district.

IMPACT! The spear of the Lakota warrior hit home. Penetrating the assassin's heart and sending a spray of blood out his back as it blew a hole right in the center. A killing blow. So why... WHY DID ASSASSIN NOT FLINCH!? Instead, the assassin swung its knife, slicing directly at the warrior's head. Around him, a few more knives flew, but nothing would hit him, and it became clear even to the most daft of assassins that he could not be injured by arrows. Perhaps running in for offense might not have been the brightest move, as the assassins moved around him. Blocking off exits as they swarmed down upon him. His spear stuck in the torso of the assassin he had impaled, as two others had grabbed it when it went clean through the first.

Surrounding him, all began to wave their knives around, almost haphazardly. Crazy Horse even noticed that in their wild swinging, one or two would slice at an ally, though they never seemed to notice. It was almost as if their bodies were puppets. Controlled rather than directly in control of themselves. Each attacking. Hacking, slicing, unwilling to let him escape without first trying to drive a knife into his chest or some other exposed part of his body.

But then... Crazy Horse would see that the mask on the one he had attacked had slipped off. But as that porcelain mask fell to the ground, what Rider saw curdled the blood in his heart. What the f-

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@Letter Bee @SSW @Cu Chulainn - In the Middle of the City District

Clever Assassin. The smokescreen, combined with Don Juan's defense did exactly what they had planned for it to do. Spiriting their Master away from an assassin's blades, and vanishing him almost entirely from their eyes. To say it worked exactly as planned is simply to state the obvious, leaving the remaining assembly of masked Assassins to turn their eyes upon Don Juan.

The assassin he targeted with his blade was impaled as he planned. Though it wasn't nearly as dead as he might have expected, with the assassin swinging his knife, missing by what must have been an inch as the talented Saber pulled his sword away. Despite the wound, the assassin hardly seemed to mind it, instead leaping back, knife hurled right at his chest. Not that it wasn't anything Don Juan couldn't handle. It became increasingly clear that despite their strength in numbers, each individual assassin was far slower and weaker than he was. Not that it did him much good when they didn't seem to care at all when a blade pierced their chest.

In fact, it became remarkably clear that none of them seemed to really care for their individual safeties, as Don's display of skill found itself completely unappreciated. In fact, so unappreciated that the assassin still attempted to attack him when he pulled of his daring display. At best he was holding her in place, at worst he was also frozen in place as knives sailed at him from all sides. The assassins uncaring cruelty to each of their possible immortal brethren.

Until... BANG!

A bullet whizzed into view, and struck the assassin Don had been 'flirting' with a moment earlier. The body jerking as an inhuman shriek echoed through the air. All other assassin's paused, echoing this shriek of disgust as their member fell to the ground. The female assassin writhing and wailing as her skull was nearly destroyed by an enchanted bullet. The mask she wore fell from her face as Don finally came to realize why exactly his target seemed impervious to his charms.



How disgusting.


@Yankee - Crazy Horse, near the edge of the city district.

It was clear the longer that Crazy Horse looked at the jet that it wasn't following any kind of standard protocol. First, it was flying far to low over the city, nearly striking the side of a building as it flew in close. Only to turn hard. No longer flying towards Crazy Horse or the city, as if it had suddenly changed its mind. Instead, it had begun to fly down closer to the riverbed. He didn't have long to ponder why that was though.

Because a moment later while watching there was a chill. A chilling presence, that echoed only one reality. Death. Death had come for him. In the form of a knife, thrown at his back with only a moment to evade it. If he dodged it, which he likely would, he would notice he had become surrounded. On all sides, on the tops of building, from the windows of blown out stores, and hanging from remnants of some kind of power cable where men and women in black. It wasn't hard to tell who they were. This was Hassan of a hundred faces. The famous man of the mountain with the ability to project himself a hundred times over. And yet...

Why was he only counting twenty?
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@Letter Bee@SSW@Cu Chulainn - In the Middle of the City District

The one who might notice something was off first was none other than Autolycus. An assassin was best suited to eek out the methods of assassins after all. But even then, the difference in talent from a master thief to an assassin who could clear out a camp in utter silence was still quite large. He was also the closest when the knives went flying. Ten knives from ten different directions. All at once. All aimed at the most vulnerable in the group. Daniel. Angling in from above, the presence of the Hassan assassins became clear. Nearly fifty had gathered around them. Skipping in and out of sight, before vanishing behind some kind of structure. Nearly impossible to keep track of, as another knife would go flying.

It was a fairly obvious tactic as far as the assassin could be concerned. Darting in and out. In and out. If Don Juan or Autolycus looked at one, then another from behind would throw a knife, either at them or at Daniel. Only giving them the briefest window to defend their master.

And worst, they had nothing to say as they scampered around. The flames and warped geometry of the destroyed city was practically their playground, and neither had a lay of the land.
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@Heavy Snark@Scallop@Duoya - In the Riverbed

The jet that Crazy Horse had seen earlier in the distance was in fast approach. The bridges had all been destroyed, leaving their warped skeletons behind. Their frames twisted beyond repair. But without the bridges, it only made it easier for the jet to fly as close to the ground as possible. Skimming the sides of the riverbed as it flew at incredible speeds down the riverbed. One might even compare it to the trench run from something like Star Wars.

It became audible before it became visible. Suddenly flying from around a corner, nearly a mile up river from where Charlotte and her servants stood discussing and planning. They could only just register the threat before it opened fire. Bullets whizzing through the air and tearing up the earth all around them. The twisted remains of a nearby bridge offered a small degree of protection, that was before the bullets of the jet tore right through it like paper.

Was the jet some kind of servant's noble phantasm!? Either way, bullets whizzed about, and the pilot's aim was only getting better the longer they were sitting ducks.

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