by Liandra Jake
"So where is Justice J.P. these days?" Daniel asked, casually stirring his drink. "Walking around with a head worth 350,000." John replied. "And the going rate for a three star DS Ranked bounty hunter?" Daniel asked. John laughed again. "Long time since those Ranks eh? …250 Ere a day until he's dealt with." "And for a friend?" "…75 a day, but I can't take him down." "Don't need to. I need him to look into a little problem of mine." "What problem?" John asked with a frown. "Axis." Daniel replied, looking sideways at John.
[X]
Dran chugged slowly down the expansive continent of Renke towards the capital. Unlike back home, there were far more people using the roads. Throughout his travel time, Dran ran his thoughts through all he knew of Axis and Teneo. These thoughts stopped as his bike's engine cut out suddenly. Coasting, he pulled off the narrow highway and towards a small city. He jogged down the streets alongside his bike until he found a mechanic.
The small garage looked reasonable enough based on Dran's first impression. One of the mechanics noticed him jogging up. "You're pretty old to be running like that." "I've trained to fight most of my life, this is nothing." Dran replied, kicking up his stand. "We'll let you know how much it'll cost." The mechanic said as he turned back to his T.V.
There was a free-for-all tournament in progress. Dran leaned against the wall, watching the T.V with his bags at his feet. "Where are their Shields?" Dran asked absently. The mechanic laughed. "You really aren't from around here." Dran frowned, ignoring his comment. Many of the participants had weapons. "Ooooho!" The mechanic exclaimed as someone was knocked out with a metal bat. "…If you're not going to work, do you mind if I use your tools?" Dran asked.
The mechanic huffed. "I'd like to see you try." "What?" Dran asked. The mechanic looked back at him with a hostile glare. "Touch something, I dare you." Dran walked past him, pushing the power button on the T.V. He found a gun in his face when he turned back. "Turn it on. Now." Dran stared back at him, mocking deafness. "What? Ya gotta speak up son!" The safety clicked off. "This isn't some hick town old man. Now turn it back on."
Dran placed a hand on the barrel of the gun. A smile appeared on his face as he crumpled the cheap metal with a simple squeeze. The mechanic took a step back. "And you listen here," Dran cracked his knuckles. "I told you I trained all my life to fight. I was born well before the fires over the ocean died out. I'm not just some old man with an attitude."
The mechanic tossed his broken gun into his seat. "Fine." He set out to bring Dran's bike into the garage. "So what's the story behind that Myshcell? I heard he was dead." Dran asked, leaning against the wall. The mechanic ignored him. Dran shrugged. "I guess I can just get it out of him myself."
[X]
The Devil's Crosshairs was a dark, empty bar in Kowen, a city to the far southeast region of Karakas. It was the preferred hangout spot for Isaac's High-Ranked friends from Dragon's Den; Ferrous Profphir and Crazz Crazzer were the only ones present. Ferrous was a man of average size who took down large Monsters exclusively. Crazz was a bounty hunter that stuck to the outer edges of Karakas to hide his unstable nature when "hunting."
Isaac had his feet propped up on a low table in his private section. Ferrous and Crazz were outlines of shadow on black leather. "Kronth is a real piece of work y'know. She acts like Arend was the only one to make her happy, and I know they've done stuff, regardless of what she says." Isaac took a drink straight from a bottle of vodka.
"Pull your head out of your ass already." Crazz snorted. Isaac sat up. "What was that?" "Kronth's a bit bitchy sometimes," Crazz explained. "But she's not unreasonable. If Arend makes her happy, then what's the problem?" Crazz downed a shot of an undeterminable mixture of alcohol. "It's not like you're still gunnin' for her." Isaac rolled his eyes. "What would you know?" "I know when you've yet to shut up about her." Crazz retorted.
Ferrous spoke up, his accent adding sharpness to his words. "And you can't deny you are starting to disrespect the Guild." He meshed his ringed fingers. "Don't forget that once you start disrespecting the Guild, you start disrespecting me." Isaac looked back and forth between the two. "Seriously? You two are going to lecture me?" He stood up, dropping money onto the table. "I'm outta here." 'I'll see if I can find Arking or Tel. I'm sure they know what I'm talking about.'
[X]
Iode was surprised to find the seven Serephs sitting around and doing nothing as he came in from his morning exercises. Mysh had finished breakfast and was reading between two of the Serephs. Rose was reading to 'Ro as Mar fidgeted. They all looked up as Iode entered the living room area.
'Ro hopped up, flying at Iode. He caught her, setting her on his shoulder. "I want to see Kronth!" 'Ro declared. "And her weird boyfriend. He's funny. Oh! And that Pendragon! He's warm." "Me too!" Mar exclaimed as he hopped to his feet on the couch. Mysh closed his book and walked over to his mother. "I wouldn't mind a visit either." Mysh said as she took the book from him. Iode chuckled. "It's barely past 9:00! They're all too busy."
Rose picked Mar and Mysh up and hugged them. "Let's say we spend some time with your father! He doesn't get many days off." Mysh looked to the lone Sereph staring out the window. Iode surprised Rose by picking her up, Mar taking the opportunity to squirm free. Mysh stayed in her arms, still watching the Sereph. "Hey dad…" Iode gave him a pat on the head. "Do what you think you need to." Mysh hopped down to the floor, walking over to the Sereph. She glanced down as he approached her. Mysh held up a hand. "Come with me."
She took it tentatively, letting Mysh lead her out of the room. Rose looked up at Iode. He smiled warmly. "He'll be alright." Mysh led the Sereph to Walter, who was arranging flowers under an old BluZeph family portrait. The Sereph grew more reluctant the closer Mysh brought her to Walter. Walter glanced over, making the Sereph stop completely. "Hello!" He called with a wrinkled smile. "Hello Walter!" Mysh exclaimed. He tugged on the Sereph's arm. "H-hello." The Sereph said quietly.
"So what brings you two here? Going on a little walk?" Walter asked as he returned to his work. "You could say that." Mysh replied. The Sereph let Mysh pull her a little closer to Walter. "What would you say then?" Walter asked with a crooked smile. "She could use some cheering up, and a walk through the gardens with you usually works for me." Mysh replied. "A very noble action indeed! So what is this lovely lady's name?" Walter asked, turning fully to the Sereph. "Cir." She whispered.
"Well Cir," Walter bowed low. "Allow me to welcome you and your group to the BluZeph Manor. I do hope you have enjoyed your stay so far. The servants and I sadly haven't had the permission to openly approach you to introduce ourselves, and for this I apologize." Cir's face flushed and she glanced away. "T-thank you."
Mysh smiled, tugging her arm. "Want to see the garden?" Cir nodded. Walter poked his flowers one last time before leading them down the hall. He unlocked the door to the room that stored everything for their landscaping needs. Cir shuddered at the chilly stone floor. Walter brought her a long, thick winter coat. Donning one himself, he gave Mysh a red knitted cap with hanging tassels and a large ball on top.
Cir giggled as Mysh's oversized hat slipped over his face. Walter opened the door to the wintery chill. The cold had finally arrived, if a bit late. The ground was hard, but dry. Walter brought the two to the first flowerbed. The skeleton of a dormant shrub provided an ample support for a curling red vine. Dark green leaves faced the sun. Small purple flowers were busily worked on by silver-backed wintertime bees collecting nectar and pollen to bring to the hive Walter kept.
"Once the flowers are fertilized with the help of the bees, the flower petals will fall off and small berries will replace them." Walter brought them a few feet down the bed. Lifting a few leaves, he revealed small pink berries. White, larger berries hung a few inches down the vine. "They'll turn from this pink to a solid white before falling off the plant and to the ground. They need a cold period now of about two weeks before they can begin to grow next fall.
"This species is called Red Wintervine; the green variety is mor
e common, but," He directed them to the bed behind him. White vines with jet-black leaves stood out from the shrub and frosted ground. "White Wintervine is exceedingly rare, as it takes the darkest leaves to keep the vines from freezing.
A bee took a rest on one of the leaves, warming itself with the plant's help. "What happens in the spring? Where do the bees go?" Cir asked. Walter smiled. "They normally burrow deep underground until the first frost of fall. They'll make a temporary nest in a tree, create all the honey they need, and carry it down underneath it to their main hive. They cut at the tree's roots to keep an open area, and to expand their home. These bees have a specially crafted hive I keep in an old root cellar."
Cir reached out towards the bee, slowly placing her hand near the edge of the leaf. The bee quickly crawled into it, sensing her body heat. She laughed as it buzzed in her hand, before flying away when it was content. Walter laughed. "You handle that well young lady. People rarely attempt that, thinking them to be as most other bees." Walter reached out and did the same thing she did, only cupping both hands together with a small hole open near his thumbs. With a wiggle, it crawled out once it warmed up "I saw you do it from the window." Cir replied.
Walter led them down to the next bed. A series of four rose bushes were growing a measured distance from each other. The large, orange flowers caught Cir's attention. Mysh poked her leg. "They remind me of your eyes, Cir." "A lovely shade of orange indeed." Walter said. "I'm rather surprised they've lasted so long. I guess the mild first half of the season is what let them survive." He reached out and tugged a leaf. It popped off with little resistance. "Yeah, like I thought." Walter showed them the leaf. "The leaves are dying from the frost. I have to come back later and pluck them off if I want to save the plant some needed energy."
"Does that mean we can take a flower?" Mysh asked. Walter considered the question for some time before replying. "Yes, but I think Cir should choose which one to cut." Walter pulled out a pair of heavy scissors wrapped in a thick cloth. Using the leaf he plucked, he showed Cir how she should cut the stem. Cir cautiously took the scissors from his hand. "Remember young lady, it is a rose."
Cir reached out for one of the more symmetric flowers, only to reel back and let it fall to the ground once she cut it. Two of her fingers were stained red. "Oww!" Mysh ignored the flower, instead reaching for Cir's hand. "That's pretty deep…" Walter said, looking over Mysh. Mysh held her tight when she tried to pull her hand back. He placed his hand over hers.
Cir felt her hand become coated in something thick, warm, and heavy. Twisting green Orenth dripped off her hand and onto the ground. From where it fell, small plants began to poke through the mulch. Once the Orenth stopped flowing from Mysh's hand and spilling onto the ground, the small plants quickly shriveled. Mysh uncovered her hand. Her hand was still stained red with blood, but no wounds could be found.
Mysh stretched and yawned. "What did I…" He drifted into sleep, falling back into Walter's hands. "How did he-?" Cir asked quietly, staring at her hand. Walter lifted Mysh and put him into her arms. She was surprised at how heavy he was. "Let's get him out of the cold before we start asking questions." As Cir hurried inside, Walter picked up the flower, now missing a few petals.
- - - - Trick Play - - - -
Guild Rush had to push three tables together to accommodate Eric's celebratory party. He wheeled himself through the doors as the four couples he was with followed behind: Kyrel with Panzer, Arend with Kronth, Flake with Hunter, and Nate with Janese. The waiters tallied up the Guildies and took their orders.
Things quickly got out of control as a general "feel good" attitude was spread throughout the restaurant and everyone began talking to everyone, resulting in a mess of conversations. Eric sat alone at the end of the long table, quietly sitting in his chair.
Panzer pulled a chair up next to him, everyone else too distracted. "Hey." "Hey." Eric replied apathetically. "What's with the face? This party is for you." Panzer asked. Eric sighed. "I know, but look at everyone; you all have someone to talk to and understand everything about you. You all have someone special and I'm just stuck in this damned chair." "OOOOH. So that's your issue." Panzer nodded. "Have you tried talking to anyone you fancy?"
"Are you kidding? I'm in a wheelchair. Movies and book always have warm-fuzzy outlooks, but people who can look past this chair don't just drop out of the sky." Eric replied. Panzer rolled her eyes. "I reiterate: have you tried talking? You're pretty good looking Eric. If someone can't look past your chair, it's their loss when Nate, Arend, and your sister get you up and walking. While that's some time off, there's no excuse to get a little action now."
"Fine!" Eric threw up his hands. "Where do I start?" Panzer spun him to face the bar, pointing to a woman Arend would have warned him to avoid, but Panzer had never met Casandre before, and she looked approachable in casual attire. "Go get her." Panzer laughed as she gave him an encouraging pat on the back. Eric approached the bar; taking notice of what she was wearing. Black short-shorts, a dark blue T-shirt, and an air of not giving a damn. He also noticed the suspicious lack of chairs at the counter.
"Something light." Eric said to the leaning bartender. Casandre was talking to Ceaser and the rest of her squad, all dressed casually and leaning against the counter. Wesken was farther down the bar and flirting with the Changed barista. "There's not enough chairs in this place." Casandre grumbled. Steeling his nerves, Eric spoke up. "Well, there's an open one right here." Casandre slowly turned. Casandre's squad all leaned over to see who addressed Casandre, jaws hanging open.
Casandre took one look at Eric. A thin line of sweat was growing on his forehead and an unopened light beer sat on the counter well above his head next to him. Casandre snorted, falling into a fit of laughter that left tears in her eyes. Eric sighed painfully, preparing to roll away. Casandre moved down the counter closer to him. "You've got some real guts." Eric shrugged. "It's do or die for me I guess." "Well, if I had a few more drinks in me, I would have taken you up on that." Casandre replied with a laugh. Caser and the rest of the squad slinked away to leave the two alone. "Alright then." Eric said with a sly smile. "I'm sure I can stay for a few drinks." Casandre smile back playfully.
[X]
It was a cold day when the second bracket of the Primary Open Tournament started. As with the qualifying brackets, the matches started with the mid-ranged matches and alternated outward. By chance, the matches were arranged so Corenden's was last. Long's was after Fritz's, and Corenden's was right after the top two participants.
The majority of the fights ended quickly as the dropping temperature prompted many to either fight hard, or agree on a Point-Match. In Fritz's fight, Corenden got a glimpse of his power; concentrated bursts of flames from his fists. Long's fight was the shortest, as she forfeited without even stepping out onto the field. She would never admit it, but Corenden figured she didn't want to face him.
Corenden found himself dressed up in his armor in a light snowfall. The bitter cold bit at his face, but with the armor, padding, and layer of thick fur, he was very warm. Corenden looked around, expecting the stands to be empty. He was surprised to find a ring of people in the front seats, all cheering once he stepped into the field.
Half the stadium's lights cast their light through the falling snow, silhouetting the raving members of Dragon's Den while lighting the field below. He even saw King and Oragè sitting next to Kronth and Arend. Corenden's face grew warm as a steady chant filled the air. "Corenden! Corenden! Corenden! Corenden! Corenden!"
"Yes, we know it's a cloudy day!"The announcer said jokingly, dressed in a parka. Since it wasn't a qualifying tournament anymore, the outgoing announcer had returned to take his mike. He grinned at Arend, who recognized him from the Hunter Tournament. "You really set an example ya know? Ya crazy bastard."
#243 ignored the crowd, irritated by the noise. The ref met them in the middle of the field. "Do you want to call a Point-Match?" They shook their heads. "I can fight until I pass out." She repli
ed. "And I'm covered in fur." Corenden replied with a sardonic look. With a frown at Corenden's disdain, the ref made the call. "Match Start!"
Corenden immediately brought up his arm to block #234's kick. When she saw Corenden was completely unfazed, she pulled out her metal crossbow. A bolt cloaked in darkness whistled past Corenden's cheek as he hopped to his right. A second bolt exploded in a flash of light behind him. Corenden cut forward with a wave of water. #234 blocked Corenden's sword with the front of her crossbow, firing as Corenden's water soaked her. In a flash of movement that made her eyes widen, Corenden caught the bolt by its fletching with his free hand.
With a puff of his wings, Corenden retreated. The wind made #234 shiver. The neon-coated crossbow bolt melted a hole in the snow where they had clashed. #234 fell into a fit of shivers. Not avoiding Corenden's attack was proving to be a poor decision on her part, as her soaked coat was dropping her core temperature fast. She pulled it off and tossed it aside, immediately regretting it as a gust of wind blew through her. She was surrounded by a thin layer of neon as the Shield began reacting to her dramatic change in condition. It provided little comfort.