SilverPaw

The Devil Hunter Agency

Hoshio Kikuchi

Hoshio was rudely disturbed by a very juvenile devil, who slipped him a piece of paper and info about the meeting. “Old…? Aren’t devils usually the older ones?” he wondered to himself; the devil had already speeded off. He wasn’t particularly bothered, so headed to the canteen. He had been thinking about getting food after all; might as well check if there were any discounts.

There weren’t. But he did end up getting some sara udon, which was decent enough. It sated his hunger and warmed his belly; he didn’t need much more than that. Well, a full night’s rest would be fine by him. However, he had a meeting to attend. He trudged to room 5, feeling generally better, but still tired. The ‘refreshments’ in the meeting room were just some rice crackers and green tea. Very bland stuff, though he did take a cup of tea.

When he saw Shindou arrive, he took the nearest empty seat, and listened to the man’s speech. He listened to the speech, and had to prevent a scoff at their esteemed leader claiming tonight’s lack of organization was ‘intentional’. What bullshit. As if they haven’t ever had previous experiences working alongside with foreigners. Granted, not in such numbers, but still. He also dearly wanted to tell the man that his so-called hopes of ‘caution’ had literally been burned down to the ground by the first person who’d arrived at the scene.

Hoshio was slightly surprised that he was named on of the leaders, even after his several years of absence from the country, but he recognized that they didn’t have much of a choice. It wasn’t a responsibility he particularly wanted to be saddled with, but he’d just have to deal somewhat. “Alright, alright, Mai, Maria, Mizuki,” he muttered to himself.

Before the people dispersed too much, he went asking around, trying to find which of his teammates had even been in the meeting and who was still missing. He’d have to find ‘his’ pyromaniac asap; given that Da-Xia had been assigned to the other team, it left him with the unknown fire-winged lady. He didn’t expect her to be too difficult to find, but he’d prefer if he could also catch the others before they left, so he’d at least be able to get briefly acquainted with them.

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

Jandar Varan

Winton

Jandar exhaled loudly in exasperation. “I don’t know what you feel Prince, so I can’t help you there. Believe what you will,” he concluded. SaDiablo then spoke to Fatima, and though it was all intended for her, Jandar’s eyes narrowed at the mention of a trap. “What trap? Do you mean the…” he trailed off and pointedly dropped his eyes to stare at the Warlord Prince’s collar for a beat, “or something else?” he asked, concern sharpening his tone.

Soon after, Dunny revealed the existence of Faeril, and Jandar couldn’t help but groan. “Dunny…The prince won’t want to have anyone ‘look into him’; if anything, he’ll probably just want to dispose of her,” he explained despairingly. “Also, what do you mean that he can look into her, surely not-?” he wondered loudly, head swinging to look back at SaDiablo from where he’d been momentarily distracted by the sceltie. The hound had outright said SaDiablo smelled the same as a Black Widow...what other conclusion was to draw but that he was one himself?

Dareen once again attempted to diffuse the situation, but Jandar grimaced, as he didn’t believe it would do much. If SaDiablo was convinced he could feel something, then he likely could. A slight doubt about Faeril began to nibble at the Warlord; he would like to confirm the matter with the woman himself. He didn’t believe he was being manipulated in such a way that he was acting uncharacteristically, but it would explain some things if there had been a ‘lure’ so he was able to meet Fatima so easily in what had at the time seemed a chance encounter. He wouldn’t mind if it hadn’t been, but he would have liked to have been informed as much by Faeril. Not that he was surprised too much if the taciturn woman didn’t deign to waste her time with such trivialities.

Into Perdition's Jaws

Linus Guiren

Using ether did draw the constructs’ attention, though Linus was able to evade some of its attacks. However, while the plasma mortar missile didn’t hit them directly, it sure caused some damage, and Linus rolled with the hit. They felt somewhat charred and bruised more heavily than they’d been beforehand as a result, but didn’t let that deter them from speeding out of the forest – this time without the assistance of ether, since the machine was distracted well enough by their allies. They patted down their weapons and other supplies, which were slightly worse for wear, but not unusable.

Concentrated as they were on hauling ass, they were able to glance backwards – and shoot at the enemy – only here and now, though that was enough for them to see when the reclaimer set the bioconstruct ablaze with her rounds. Nice. Their maw lolled into a momentary grin, warm satisfaction easing the sharp burn of adrenaline coursing through their overworked musculature. Unfortunately, the thing began to follow them relentlessly, targeting itself for the mortar projectiles. That was undoubtedly bad.

The voice over the comms confirmed it, though Linus was rather annoyed at it. First, they ask us to destroy us, now they tell us to forget it. The celaderaka scoffed, but once again boosted their speed with ether. Corsica was ahead of them at the moment, and that coupled with her earlier troubles when Linus had attempted to help her meant that this time, Linus enhanced only their own speed. Like I’m letting that fucker self-destruct on me. With that in mind, they ran towards the park, and once they noticed the barricade, led the machine in front of a gun turret, aiming to make it easier for what damn-better really be allies.

I, the Demon King, Will Summon My Own Damned Heroes!

Asteria

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Asteria smirked at the sounds of the chaos behind her, but didn’t risk glancing to see how thing were going. She continued running towards the entrance full blast, pushing her muscles even though they pulsed unpleasantly. She was pressed as close to the ground and one of the walls as possible, seeking to blend herself within the environment and make herself a smaller target. She sensed the Muffle and Suppress Presence weren’t doing as much due to her speed, but couldn’t do much about it. All of her efforts were concentrating on getting out from the open.

However, once she was close enough to the entrance to see that there was movement within, she gradually began to slow down, and redirect her energy towards staying unnoticed. She moved in a way that drew the least attention, and focused her mind, leftover stamina and mana towards the idea and practice of obscuration. Even if her learned skills were working on auto-pilot, perhaps it would help if she also actively concentrated on making the most of them. In this way, she cautiously sneaked into the cliff…

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

Jandar Varan

Winton

Jandar glanced at Fatima in obvious annoyance at her interruption. Anger warred with concern, and if she were in a better state, he would be outraged at her saying there was ‘no need’ for them to rush yet that there was a ‘need’ for her to follow a presumed enemy by herself. Of course, based on how meek Sybl was being at the moment, maybe he wasn’t so much Alice’s man as Jandar had initially thought, but they couldn’t have known that. So, when he spoke to her, his tone was inevitably colder than he’d usually wish it to be with her. “We will discuss the matter when you are in a better state, my Lady,” he stated, voice sharp yet detached, carrying none of the heat that momentarily sparked in his gaze.

Regardless, he turned to the Prince and inclined his head. “Yes, I do believe you met us when we were pretending to be relatives,” he admitted, since he was near certain SaDiablo was aware they’d been lying about the nature of their relationship. Now that he thought about it, he once again wore the make-up that would make him seem a Hyllian. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Warlord Prince sensed something off about that too. Jandar wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. “I assure you, however, that the guise was meant for the general populace rather than you specifically, Prince,” he added placatingly, keeping his hands where they were held aloft for now. As paranoid as the man in front of him was, he was sure to take any such deception very personally.

Then the rest of their company arrived, including Dunny, who cheerfully communicated to everyone how he’d been the one to follow the tracks. Under other circumstances, Jandar would have been smugly amused, but as it was, he was mostly relieved – the presence of a Sceltie might show SaDiablo that they weren’t the enemies he was apparently taking them as. “I believe we are, Dareen, though I’m not sure everyone here realizes that,” he pointedly glanced at Mikhail and SaDiablo.

With a bemused head-shake, he addressed the black jeweled male once again. “Prince…I see you still believe we are under some sort of a spell. But the connection we feel to our Queen is as genuine as yours is,” he stated, gazing at him seriously. At this point, it was rather obvious that SaDiablo felt the call to Fatima; otherwise, he wouldn’t be wrapped around her at all, much less so protectively. “I admit, certain events have been rather convenient, including the way I initially met her, for example. However, would you not call that Fate?” he inquired, one brow rising quizzically.

Giving the man a moment to contemplate, Jandar continued. “After all, we found you here, once again in very unlikely circumstances. Instead of a trap, what awaited us was another potential ally. You may not know this yet, but we intend to depart for Kaeleer, and the local Priestess of Winton had proclaimed that she would help us through the realms only if we brought you along. And here you are. Convenient, yet it might work in your favour as well, no?” he explained, finishing with another question.

Into Perdition's Jaws

Linus Guiren

Well, they’d decimated the biomachine in a satisfying, cacophonous display of gunshots, fire, and explosive. One down, one to go. The clearer – and honestly annoyingly bossy – voice over the comms affirmed that the other construct should be put down before they’d lead it to the park. Sound advice, though with all the saying and no doing from the mysterious ally, Linus didn’t appreciate it as much as they otherwise might have.

Escaping through the burning forest as they were, getting to that other platform-esque machine wasn’t exactly easy though. Linus managed to weave between the trees with the occasional slight boost from ether – which they’d provide to the Reclaimer as well if she were near enough – until the Celaderaka had clear line of sight. At that point, they took a hold of their energy rifle and provided support fire. This weapon was capable of the longest range out of their arsenal, so it was the most appropriate. If so many of Linus’ allies hadn’t already congregated near the construct, they’d might have lobed another grenade at it, but as it was, they refrained.

Some of their allies looked a bit worse for wear, but at least they were all still eagerly going at it. Revenge was sweet, even if they were only able to destroy some of their enemies. But at least it would mean a nuisance, a financial cost, a failure of the enemy’s mission, and a warning to them what messing with Linus and co. would lead to. All in all, a tentative success for a party who was betrayed, ambushed, and had sent a vastly superior force against them. Of course, it would only be a true success if they wrecked this remaining construct, escaped to the park, and met with what Linus really hoped wasn’t another trap.

To fulfill that plan, Linus contributed to the hell they were all raining down upon the thing. Especially after that vrexul ally of theirs fired their Hellhammer at it. Now, that was helpful. With a hiss of triumph, Linus ramped up their rate of fire and coated their ammo in ether, so the impact would pact more of a punch. They were still careful with their aiming, since they didn’t want to hit any of the allies nearby. Despite that, they didn’t doubt their combined efforts would be enough to crush the biomachine. Then, the only thing to do would be to haul it to the park asap, before the forest burned around them and trapped them into the whole mess with the remaining enemies. Simple plan, perhaps a bit of a tricky execution, but nothing that should prove unconquerable.

The Devil Hunter Agency

Hoshio Kikuchi

Hoshio stayed at the warehouse as long as possible, getting rid of as many rocks as he could in the timeframe. The treant had been destroyed, some ignorant idiot had called the police – which surely wouldn’t have happened if some other idiots hadn’t set the whole building on fire – and his fellow hunters had all but evacuated. Before the other policemen were near enough to spot him, he took his leave as well.

He received the DHA’s message just when he’d settled into his car comfortably. Oh for… Apparently Da Xia had picked up some strays. Then she claimed they were alright for devils and probably wouldn’t bring them to base in any case. Mh, whatever. If one gets in, we can just dispose of it. Hoshio really was too tired to overthink the issue. Besides, he was severely disgruntled at the pay cut he could expect to his salary. Fuck, but he hated collective responsibility. Unfortunately, he was also too tired to try and argue futilely. He knew how the DHA operated in Japan, and not much could convince them to defy their set ways.

Even though he was one of the last ones to leave the warehouse, he was one of the first ones to arrive at the base. The advantage of owning a car and making no detours, he supposed. He parked at the video rental, slowly shuffled his way through, and went about picking up his pay. Which is where he discovered that he wasn’t too tired to bitch.

“I know you don’t care, but this is way too unfair. That building was already falling apart! Not to mention it was Da-Xia who first thought igniting some gasoline was a fun idea. Granted, she also took care of the treant so maybe it balances out. Oh, but if that exotic foreigner woman who can fly with flames despite being a Feeder shows up, you should definitely chew her up. Really, what did you expect sending a bunch of strangers without any foreplanning on a mission like this anyway? Oh, and thanks for the cash,” he rambled, finishing with a thanks upon receiving what he was there for.

When the transaction was completed, he dragged himself away, without even waiting for an answer. Hoshio stumbled his way to where he was supposed to go, and gleefully threw himself into the nearest sitting arrangement. Only after that did he disentangle the quiver and bow from his person, and unstrung the latter. It was time for a bit of a rest, both for him and the weapon. We better get some good free food and drinks outta this too, he thought grumpily as he settled himself and half-closed his eyes. No, strike that, he closed them fully. Maybe dozed a bit until there was something important going on.

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

Jandar Varan

Winton

Jandar was puzzled at what Mikhail had told him, but honestly, a glimmer of hope sparked within him. His initial mission, the reason he’d travelled to Terreille, had been to get SaDiablo back to Kaeleer if he were still alive. This, then, would be fulfilling his purpose. The problem was how to get to the man…and how to convince him to journey with them. Unlike Mikahil, he did not believe control was what they should seek – the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince had been controlled by the collar for longer than he himself had been alive.

All the confusion was momentarily forgotten once they descended the cliff and came across Sybl, at the sight of whom Jandar actually swore under his breath, glaring daggers at him. Worse, the sly Prince was standing between them and a cave reeking of death. The Warlord’s lips curled in fury at what he was sensing, and yet his body froze momentarily when that Alice’s bastard dared to brush against his mind, and greeted them politely. Not gloating…Stalling. Whatever he’d done, Fatima must not be dead yet.

With that knowledge, Jandar channeled his tension into the beginning of a run, dashing straight past Sybl, towards and into the cave. At the sight that met him, he once again came to a standstill. Bewilderment took a hold of him, and dominated his entire being. SaDiablo, the very man Mikhail had said they were to find and convince to travel with them was right there in front of him. Not only that, he was cuddling Fatima.

“W-what? Prince?” he questioned, utterly confused. Eyeing the man, it was obvious he’d been the one injured. Had Fatima helped heal him?

Speaking of her, his Lady was alive and uninjured…if not exactly well. She was shivering very lightly, and her countenance was feverish. Sending a light, questioning tendril of telepathy towards her, he inquired “How are you?”

Turning to SaDiablo, the juxtaposition between their last encounter and this one clear and sharp as the one between midday and midnight, he asked quietly, respectfully, “What happened?” Sensing the danger, and to show he did not intend to act in any way – yet – he slowly raised his arms, palms facing outwards in the universal ‘Peace, I mean no harm’ sign.

He was sure SaDiablo was aware that he would act if he felt the need to do so, however. For all he knew, the black jeweled male had lured Fatima here and got her drunk on his power. He had seemed curious about her their last meeting, so perhaps he’d seen the opportunity to question her and took it. Yet, the fact that he’d apparently escaped Shalador and Laska’s influence, and had been injured as a result did not escape his notice – and this was a fact that did not fit Jandar’s suspicions. So, while he could not entirely relinquish his mistrust, he was willing to converse; hopefully, the same went for the other male.

The Devil Hunter Agency

Hoshio Kikuchi

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 Devil Hunter Agency

Hoshio Kikuchi

As per the usual when he received such messages, Hoshio was awoken in the middle of the night by a loud ping of his phone which alerted him to the DHA’s notice of a mission and its details. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes, and got ready, departing from his small apartment with his gear in a used light gray Suzuki Swift. He didn’t drive to the exact location of their meeting, rather parking a few streets away and taking the 10-minute walk to the warehouse.

Like this whole district, the building was old, abandoned, and dusty. There was some unexpectedly spectacular activity when he arrived, however. Someone with a serious love for a dramatic, explosive, and stylish entrance had just driven a motorcycle straight through the doors, had for some reasons spilled and ignited some gasoline floor, and challenged all the ghost within to a fight. Well. That’s one way to do it, he thought with a shake of his head as he moved to the side of the warehouse, seeking a back entrance.

The only thing like it that Hoshio saw were some fairly high up windows. He found a service ladder of questionable quality which lead to a roof missing half its paneling; not the most reassuring of things. There was also a pipe or two he could climb up, but they creaked dubiously when he grabbed them and shook them a bit, so he didn’t quite trust them to hold up his weight.

A long silent exhalation later, he paced his way away from one of the windows, making sure the floor wasn’t too slippery. Securing the bow and quiver to his body as much as he could, Hoshio turned and charged the wall at a run, jumping up it when close enough. A strong push off of the wall later, he was stretching up, scrabbling for the ledge, barely catching it with one hand, dangling for a minute, before finally catching it with the other and hauling himself up.

That accomplished, the hunter allowed himself a fully tremulous breath of relief as he crouched on the window’s outside ledge. Then he bashed the little glass squares in, bending some of the thinner steel frames latticing the larger expanse of the window. Just as he did so, a gun shot resounded from above him, hitting one of the Yurei within the storage building, almost startling him right off the ledge with the suddenness of it. So, someone did go up there. And now I get to feel like a fool. Great start, huh, he grimaced.

Rather than ponder on what was done, however, Hoshio settled into position – as stable and comfortable one as was possible to obtain on a window ledge – readied his bow, nocked the first arrow, and began picking off the targets. At least with the different vantage points, he and the person on the roof didn’t have too much direct competition, and could provide a better if slightly spread out support to the huntress within.