OPEN SIGNUPS Seijin No Soushiki: Chapter One - Advent

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#1
I don't remember much from those days.

Or before that. Honestly, it's all kinda shot. But there is at least one thing that's still vivid, something at the start of it all.

I remember the look on her face, looking down at me that day. Even through hazy, fading eyesight, her expression was engraved on my mind, illuminated by the setting sun.

A combination of disappointment and apathy, as though she were upset, yet numb to such things. However, that face shifted for a moment, a brief flash of surprise followed by a wry grin.

Then she asked me a question.

"How would you like to keep breathing?"



My eye lids ease open, the alarm on my phone blaring mercilessly next to me, as if to punish me for the indulgence known as sleep. A groan echoes through the one bedroom apartment as the agitated beast living in this bed desperately claws for the phone, begging the absurd sound to stop.

"Come on, cut me a break, I'm up already..." Finally, through sleepy eyes and a groggy head, I manage to slide my finger across the bottom of the screen, bringing a momentary relief to the room. Now I just needed to drag my ass out of the modest futon and get moving; everything after was up to chance. Wobbling to my feet, I stumble on over to the small counter adjacent to the front door, where an oven, stove, fridge, sink, microwave, and most importantly, a toaster await my discretion. Truth is, I don't put much stock in breakfast, so I grab some bread out of the cabinet above and set a slice in said toaster to cook while I brush my teeth and get dressed for school. Surprisingly, I manage to get the winter uniform of Misaki Municipal High School in time to grab the freshly heated toast, slather some butter on it, and head out the door. From my apartment, it’s a pretty much a straight shot north to school, a route I'v become accustomed to after a year and a half.

There are about as many students as you'd expect on the way, seeing as it’s about a half hour until first period starts. Even as long as I’ve been here, a few of them take notice of a green-eyed foreigner wearing the same uniform as them. It probably doesn’t help that said foreigner is at least a few centimeters taller than the people around him, not that the light ginger hair was doing any favors either. I sigh and sling my school bag over my shoulder, picking up the pace a bit and taking a bite out of my toast.
 
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Kurogane86

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#2
Takashi Nanaya

His alarm went off, vibrating in his pocket letting him know it was time to leave his perch. Takashi dropped down from the rooftop overlooking the bedroom of a foreigner that had caught his eye. He landed softly not making a sound as he proceeded to disappear into the dark early morning sky. He passed several homes and businesses until he arrived at his home. He pulled out his key and entered silently. He removed his shoes and crept up the stairs. He opened the door to his room and crawled into his futon. He took out his phone and sighed, "she'll be here in 20 mins. I should try to sleep while I can."

"Takashi!, Takashi!" A barrage of pounds on the door woke him from his sleep. "I'm up aunty. I'm up." The voice at the door unsatisfied with the response trailed off as she walked away from the door. "Honestly, kids these days. All they do is sleep. That's why the economy is..." Takashi got up, folded his futon and got ready for school.

He finished getting ready and went to the kitchen. Waiting for him was a small breakfast consisting of milk, toast and some eggs. "Eat up, you have to clean up the bath before you go to school." He quickly ate and hurried to the bath. His Aunt owned a bathhouse and used Takashi as a personal maid. She said it was his way of paying rent for her taking him in. Often times Takashi would wonder how a kind woman like his mom could have been related to such a demon. He took out the cleaning supplies and entered the woman bath first. He looked around to make sure no one was around and tapped into his abilities. Flash Scabbard and Flash Dash, both proud techniques used by his family to commit assassination on the half bloods. He used this chore as a way to train. He would clean while working on his speed, faster, faster, faster. He pushed his ability until the floor, walls and ceiling shined like freshly polished marvel.

He finished both baths and wished his aunt farewell. He soon joined the other students on their trek to school keeping his eyes open for him.
 

Shiki

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#3
Angela du Moitier

Angela rose from her right knee, her simple brown cloak ruffling around her ankles as she stood. As she stepped onto the soft carpeting of the altar steps of Aida Church, she glanced through the open doorway to the Sacristy. “Father?”

After a moment, a man stepped out, dressed in a similarly drab brown. “Greetings, child. What brings you here?”

“Angela du Moitier.” She glanced over her shoulder, and - indeed - the pews were barren. “Eighth Sacrement.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he waved for her to enter the Sacristy. It wasn’t particularly secure, sure, but it would keep away prying eyes. She followed him in, and closed the door as he collapsed into a chair. Relief was painted across his face. “Thank the Almighty. I was worried my request for help had gotten lost at the Vatican.”

She shook her head, her brown hair sliding quietly across the cloth over her shoulders. “No. His Holiness wanted to look at it personally; Misaki is too thaumaturgically important to be careless.”

Father Willowsworth was an elderly man - that could not be denied. He was the son of an American soldier after WWII, and it showed. Angela could read it in his face, and in his documentation back at the Vatican. And he lived up to the wisdom his age mandated as thoughts flicked across his face in rapid succession. “What do you mean?”

Angela’s lips pursed slightly. “I’m sorry, Father - that’s classified. Only His Excellency over in Tokyo is allowed to know.”

The aged priest’s brow furrowed. “Understood. If you need shelter...” he reached into a cabinet, one of the many western-style cabinets lining the walls, and pulled out something. He tossed it over to Angela, who caught it - a key, on a keychain with nothing other than a cross. “It isn’t Rome, but there’s a few spare rooms in the Rectory. You’re more than welcome.”

Angela smiled softly. He was clearly a nice man - something Rome, alas, was slightly less reliable about. “Thank you, Father.” She ticked the key into a pocket in her robe, before pulling out a rosary. Simple wood, but the Assembly’s rites made it more than a simple tool of prayer. “If I don’t come by after a few days, pray for me.” She handed it to him, the large wooden beads tapping each other softly. God willing, it would notify the Vatican if he prayed with it.

She hoped that it didn’t come to that. With a bow - this was Japan - and a few pleasantries, she finished up at Misaki’s single church, and walked out into the bright sunlight. She pulled her hood back over her head, and - with a smile on her lips to the passersby and a tiny cross her grandmother had hand-forged hanging around her neck - she set off into the crowd.
 
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#4
A cool breeze passes through the area, a reminder that we're heading into winter soon. Guess I'll have to bust out that old scarf in a bit.

Hmm? What's going on up ahead? I stop by a large crowd, gathered around coroner's van and some police cars outside a small home. A small knot forms in my gut as they wheel out two body bags, partly out of sympathy, but also out of disgust for the onlookers pulling out they're phones.

I should just move along, there's nothing good to see here.

As I step forward, something tugs at me. An odd sensation, making my vision blur for just a moment. Something gnawing at the back of my mind, like I shouldn't go just yet. I feel as though my head is about to split from the feeling, I wanna break out into a sprint, but I'm stuck. It's so cold. I feel like I'm drowning. No, drowning would be better than this.

Then, as quickly as it came, it's gone. I can breathe again, and everything feels normal.

I...need get going. I'm going to be late.

Despite the fairly disturbing set back, I manage to make it to class before the bell, and with a few minutes to spare. Just as my bag hits the table, an arm swings over my shoulder and a familiar, yet annoying voice is heard.

"Warren, my man!" The fool all but shouts in my ear.

Satoshi Kiriyama.

Typical class clown, captain of the boxing club, and self proclaimed (falsely) lady killer of class 2-B. We met last year when I was still a member of the same club and he's insisted that he's my best friend ever since. I don't have the heart to correct him and he does have a way of growing on you...like a fungus.

"Oh good, I was real sick of hearing out of that ear, appreciate that." Despite the sarcasm of these words, there's a grin on my lips as they're spoken.

"C'mon, lighten up, Ban-sama, you'll live longer!" And there he goes making a weird version of the name Banfield. Before the idiot can be berated, he takes his seat a few desks over just as the homeroom teacher arrives; I follow suit.



It seems the story on that incident halfway towards my place has already circulated by the time lunch begins, not surprising given the proximity to the school. By the time classes start again, I've already heard plenty of gossip on it. Apparently, its the fifth of a string of murder suicide's we've been getting in Misaki. Neighbors heard some unintelligible shouting at night, but never suspected anything beyond a marital spat. In the morning, the couple's son stopped by to visit, still owing a key himself, and found the bodies. The police are following up the investigation, but it looks like the wife stabbed the husband to death before cutting her own throat.

Disturbing as the whole thing is, what I can't stop fixating on is that sensation I felt. It was alien, yet...I could swear I recognize it somehow. Or part of it? Ugh, my brain hurts.

Before I know it, classes end and everyone files out for clubs and the like. Since I'm not in one anymore myself, I start heading to my part-time job, glad that its out of the way of that house.
 
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Kurogane86

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#5
Takashi Nanaya

Takashi decided to stop by the local convenience store before heading to school. He didn't see his target so he figured he was already at school. His stomach was rumbling, his modest breakfast was used up during his morning training. He quickly picked out a few breads and a juice, paid and got back outside. Waiting for him was a female classmate, Sakura Kuryu. She was waiting by the entrance and as soon as she saw him quickly ran up and greeted him. "Good morning Nanaya san." "Good morning, Kuryu San" he said mouth full of bread.

The pair walked to school the whole time Kuryu San was talking about the recent murder suicides that have been happening. They finally made it to class when they were told of another incident that happened just this morning. Kuryu San was talking with her other classmates about it, and all Takashi could do was observe his target. He couldn't help but feel something odd about him, it made him anxious.

The day went by relatively quickly. Takashi took his time leaving since he didn't want to go home and work at the bath house. "Nanaya san?" A small voice called out. "Are you headed home now?" He shook his head. "Oh, good if it's not to much trouble can you accompany me?" He nodded and she smiled as she waited for him to join her. The pair walked off of school grounds headed for the shopping district.
 

Shiki

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#6
Click, click, click. Like clockwork, the heels of Angela’s shoes tapped against the stoneworks that lined the school building’s roof. Sure, the rooftop was fenced off, but there was enough space on the outside for her to perch upon it. Several stories below, she could see students milling about. Absently, she wondered what it was like; the Vatican was not your normal school, to put it mildly. She shook her head clear, her hair brushing against her shoulders in the process. As the courtyard below slowly cleared - the day had ended mere moments before - she evalutated her surroundings. The school, all things considered, provided a decent vantage point. It was high enough to provide a clear line of vision, but low enough that people didn’t look like microbes.

She’d walked through the town earlier, and it was silent, magically speaking. Well, at least in terms of hostiles. Of course, the ley lines practically screamed at anyone with training in Magecraft, and she passed several houses that were probably home to Magi of middling ability. The Blue was the exception, not the norm, for Magecraft talent this far to the east. She slumped back against the chain-links. She was an Executor of the Eighth Sacrement; not finding a thing was shameful. She sighed. The newspaper, maybe? It couldn’t hurt. She sat up, before pushing herself off the ledge and to the ground below. The courtyard had - thankfully - fully cleared up while she was lost in her thoughts, and - legs reinforced, lest she be acquainted with the gift of broken femurs - she landed with a silence and elegance that only the most trained can manage. She walked over to a nearby convenience store, and walked over to the pitiful little newspaper stand that hid near the counter. The internet was the home of information these days. Sic transit gloria mundi. Her father loved newspapers.

“Know anything about this string of murder-suicides?” The clerk looked up, clearly having not noticed her entrance. His eyes widened in surprise - dressed like the norm she was not - but the look faded into a concerned furrowed brow.

“Not much. It’s been couples, mostly.” He motioned vaguely at the newspaper she held. “I think this is the first time I’ve heard of a murder in the news, or at least it’s been years. There was the ‘modern-day vampire’ years ago, but that was the Nineties. Before my time.”

“It’s tragic...No rumors going around?”

The man smiled slightly. “Private investigator?” he asked, the humor evident in his tone.

She smiled in return. “No, not really.” Strictly speaking, she was an international covert operative. “Just curious, really.” She didn’t have any proof it was linked to Willowsworth’s worries. Yet.

“Mhm.” His voice sobered up. “There’s the normal, of course - demons, ninja, ancient curse, the like - but nothing substantial. Whatever’s going on, the police are playing it close to their chests.”

She saw no lie in his words. Unfortunate, but probably good for him in the long run. “Thank you for humoring me.” She handed over the yen for the paper - along with a small tip as thanks; what the economists back in Rome don’t know doesn't hurt them - and left the store. As her mind cranked through the puzzle, she rolled up the paper and slid it into a pocket in her cloak. Better to have and not need than to need and not have.

The police bureau next, maybe? It was no small walk, and it might be fruitless, but she had no better leads.
 
#7
The sun's already getting ready to set and my shift at the coffee shop where I work just ended. With a yawn a bit after I head out the door and start walking home, mind wandering back to this morning. What the hell is going on lately? I realize people lose it sometimes, but not like this. And that house I passed...that feeling. That wasn't just fear or disgust, there was a connection there.

A sigh escapes me as my feet stop moving. A connection, huh? What am I even thinking? I've got something normal for once or, well, close enough. Don't start sticking your nose in a bunch of supernatural crap now. I should just get home and get ready for the weekend; there's a day off school tomorrow.

Wait...

Where exactly am I? It looks like this is some alley or something. Hard to tell, since the sun has already set. Did I...walk here? Without even noticing?

I clutch my chest. Once again, the organ inside is trying to beat its way out of my chest and I can feel a cold sweat. There's someone in front of me, a couple dozen feet away. No...there's two, but one of them...The man standing is holding a blood soaked claw hammer, while the is laying in a broken heap on the ground.

Is he...is he dead?

The one standing looks over here, the hammer slipping from his grasp. He's clearly not all there; is he drugged or something? The assailant stumbles over to me, an emptiness in his eyes. I should go. I need to leave right now. But my feet won't move. That sensation is creeping my entire body now, locking me up at the joints and holding me in place. My blood's on fire and my vision is flickering.

I'm jolted awake by the man's hands around my throat, causing me to lose my footing and stumble backwards, barely keeping from falling over. I'm crouched now and I can't breathe, this guy's grip is way too strong for a human. And there's something else. I can barely see it, but somethings...inside him. It's phasing out of the front of his body. Like a person, but wrong. Like its there, but shouldn't be.

It wants me. It wants to take me, the way it took him. I can't breath. I'm so tired. My eyes close.


They'll be stronger than before, a lot tougher too. They'll even be able to touch spirits. I'm sure you'll appreciate these.

Touko...

My eyes snap open and I put a hand in front of my face, between me and the wraith. Possibly to its surprise, that hand grasps hold of what likely constitutes its face. With the left, I wrench loose one of the hands of the original host, allowing me to kick him away from me. As he falls back, now unconscious, the spirit in my grasp is pulled from his body. With the momentum from the kick, the ghost is swung around and tossed aside, though it only moves a few feet.

Right, it shouldn't be able to maintain itself without a body, but how long would that take? I'll just hold it off until then.



Interlude:

A pair of feet hang over the edge of a nearby building, watching the commotion below. On his lap is a suppressed, 9mm pistol, in his hands is a pair of night-vision binoculars. A jaunty whistle flies from his lips, followed by a wolfish grin.

"Well, that's a new one." He mutters, clearly amused. "Guess I'll keep an eye on him for now, see what happens next..."
 
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Kurogane86

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#8
Takashi Nanaya

Takashi was used as a pack mule for Kuryu-San. She was buying groceries for her family since it was her turn to cook dinner for her siblings. While they walked around Sakura was talking non-stop about the weird things going on in their neighborhood. "And then, they said that she killed herself after killing her husband. It's so scary outside now, thank you for coming with me." Takashi shook his head. "Its fine I wanted to get out of the house anyway, if I was at home Auntie would have me work the counter at the bath."

DJ and Sakura walked to the train station, as Sakura got on the train she called out. "Thank you for accompanying me today Nanaya-San. Be careful on your way home." He smiled and waved as her train pulled away. Just then his cell phone alarm went off, "he's off." Takashi walked out of sight then when he was alone he started running tword his target's work place. He watched him from across the street as he left his work place. He walked around looking as if he was having chest pain.

He suddenly turned down an alley, this was out of the ordinary since he usually went straight home. Takashi followed his target, he suddenly smelt fresh blood. He saw that his target had stopped in his tracks as he looked on at a murder scene. 'No way' he thought, 'run, you idiot get out of there.' The murderer approached him and wrapped his hand around his neck. Takashi looked through his bag for a weapon. He dropped his bag and was about to rush in when Touko stopped the monster from attacking. "Wha" he let slip out from his hiding spot as he watched a high school boy fight off a wrath.
 

Shiki

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#9
Angela du Moitier

“Leaping buildings in a single bound,” unfortunately, was a bit beyond Angela. She could easily leap alleyways and - with a moment of preparation and Reenforcement - even streets. Why the Japanese never questioned a woman in a hermit outfit leaping across the city skyline, she would never know. Not that she was complaining. As she sailed across a street, cars rushing by below, she heard a cry piercing the hum of early evening that had settled since she left the school building. It came from the alleyway just ahead, a low one between apartment housing. She stuck the landing and used the momentum to carry her to the building’s edge. The bottom below was dark, eerily so, but she could see movement.

A teenage boy was grabbing a ghost. Leaving aside the physics therein - frankly, she’d seen weirder - there was something very wrong going on. She was lucky the sun had fallen below the building - she wouldn’t be seen by them any more than she saw whomsoever was below. She reached up to her chest, where her grandmother’s golden cross necklace - forged from the remaining scraps of gold from the Du Moitier properties after the Reign of Terror sold the rest, supposedly - and touched it for just a second. A silent, wordless prayer, then she reached down to her waist and grabbed several Black Key of Providence hilts. While not as effective as they would be against Dead Apostles, they’d still do a number to ghosts. And if they didn’t - well, she was a trained exorcist.

She reached out wide, and focused deeply. A breath slipped out, then she tapped into her Od to activate the inscriptions on the hilts, inscriptions that channeled the faith of millions of Catholics around the world into physical blades. Just for good measure, she focused on the Rite of Fire, and the Keys wreathed themselves in flame. She stepped forward, and let herself fall, a shooting star bringing justice and the Light of the Most High. She landed softly, and tossed one of the Keys at the wall. It went through as if butter, and finally slowed with four or five inches lodged in the stone. The alleyway went from sun-lit twilight to flaming day.

“Good evening,” she began, her voice carefully mild. She had no idea who was in the right in this situation; she could not take sides until she was sure. She looked the boy who had grabbed the ghost in the eyes. “I assume you’re connected to the instability that’s overtaken this town?”
 
#10
A flash of light forces me to cover my eyes, a brief searing heat following, thanks to the tight space of this alley. When it becomes clear enough to see again, there's someone new with me, a woman maybe a year or so older than me. The wraith, on the other hand, now has a few holes in it, each growing in size as it dissipates into nothingness. Clearly not just fire, then. So magus? Exorcist?

And what about the damn wraith, anyway. Is that what's been happening. No, now that I think about it, that makes sense, of a sort. Person gets possessed, can't handle the mental strain, breaks down and becomes violent. Sadly, the human psyche is that delicate, a little push in the wrong direction and there's no telling what people are capable of. But why now? They certainly didn't pull this sort of thing on such a level before?

"Appreciate the help."

In any case, I owe this woman. Whoever she is, she seems like she's here to help. And I can't exactly complain; even if I could've dealt with that thing, there's no telling how much harder it might've been without her help.

"I'm...Wait, what!? The hell makes you think I'm wrapped in this!?." My hands rise in front of me as I object.

"Ah..." It seems the false layer of skin covering my rather odd prosthetic limbs, revealing a pair of doll-like hands.

"Um...I can explain..."
 

Kurogane86

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#11
Takashi Nanaya

As he watched from his hiding spot all of his suspicions were realized. 'I knew there was something weird about that bastard' he thought. He was about to run away when another weirdo showed up. Takashi gasped at the sight, it was a member of the church. 'What is the church doing here?' He thought as he watched her exterminate the wraith. She turned and faced the boy she just saved and accused him of being apart of the madness of the town. As he refused his skin fell off revealing false arms. "I knew it!" He shouted revealing himself to the other two.

He used his Nanaya speed to rush in, and grab Touko by the shirt collar. He pulled out an exacto knife he had in his back pocket and held it up to his heck. "I knew it, you dont look right, smell right or act right everything about you says monster." He called out to the member of the church that was behind him. "This is my prey ive been tailing him for weeks, your services are no longer needed."
 

Shiki

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#12
Angela pursed her lips, trying to hold back a giggle. What was this, a spy movie? “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.” She let go of the flame sheathing the two remaining Black Keys, and then tossed them into the shadows of the two. They probably weren’t Catholics (or Dead Apostles who had killed Catholics) but her faith was enough to make their movement like swimming through mud, God willing. They’d have to pull the keys out before they could get free. She withdrew a few more hilts, but didn’t materialize their blades; she wasn’t made of Prana.

Situation more-or-less neutralized - less moreso than more, but whatever - she tapped her foot on the concrete ground, the clicking of her shoes echoing in the small space. “Young man,” - she looked the one with the knife in the eye - “this one is entirely human. If he was a Phantasmal Beast, the Prana in the area would be off the charts, and if he was a Dead Apostle, this city would be dead.” She frowned, before looking closer at the other boy’s hands. “Those look artificial. Puppetry?” Thoughts ran through her head at the speed of light. She’d read the notes of Sister Ciel on the events of this town years before. The Blue was involved - she didn’t say how, which was probably a good idea, considering the Magician’s reputation - and “Demon Hunting Organizations.” Whatever they were; it was unclear. Something about Reverse Side escapees.

Wasn’t Lady Blue’s sister Scorned Red, the puppetry-master? The Church had a lot of documentation - probably more than the Association, at any rate, given how widespread the Church was - and she’d briefly scanned the notes about the Far East. More importantly, Lady Blue grew up here; that’s why Angela was sent in the first place, rather than a normal Executor.

Puppetry - prosthetics, no less, and ones that could affect ghosts! - in the Aozaki hometown. If she was a gambler - beyond the occasional game of poker played with candy as tokens - Angela would put good money on that the Scorned Red was involved. As for the other one - that kind of speed looked like a Psychic ability. Ryougi, then - they were the only ones alive still, apparently.

What to say? It was unlikely either were the murderer (or, God forbid, murderers) running rampant in the city, but she couldn’t fight them and figuring out what’s really going on at the same time. What would Jesus do? Good enough question as any, right?

She breathed out, before doing something that would probably bite her in the back. She reached up to the cross on her neck, and prayed something to the tune of “Eternal Lord, please help this suicidal idiot,” under her breath, and let go of the Prana maintaining the two keys vanish, the remaining hilts clanging to the ground a second later. A bit of a waste - she probably shouldn’t have been so impulsive - but such was life.

She smiled brightly - as bright as she could, which was very bright indeed - and spoke. “Neither of you seem evil, but something very wrong is going on in this city. Can you help me?” She ended with a pleading furrow of her eyebrows. That inner voice of hers that sounded an awful lot like one of her friends at the Vatican, a boy very into Japanese media, screamed, Moe Powers, Activate!
 
#13
I look in the direction that the voice came from, only to catch a blur rushing to meet me. Before I know it, I'm being held by the collar with a blade to my neck. Is that Nanaya from school with a damn box cutter?

"Easy there..." I raise my mechanical hands as the false skin regenerates again, like a holographic image. It probably wouldn't take much to break his wrist, but it's better not to take the chance right now. "I'm not hurting anyone, alright? Just trying to live like everyone else."

Before I can say anything else, something pulses in me again. Similar to the wraith, but less imposing. Almost warm even, though a bit stifling as well. Not long after I notice how much heavier I feel all of a sudden, like I'd run into trouble trying to move. Behind the one with the makeshift knife, a long dagger can be seen, stuck in the ground.

Ah, I get it. My face twists a moment at the realization of who this is. It doesn't exactly comfort me that she seems to know the nature of my limbs.

"Yeah...pretty much." I give her a dry response, considering all the attempted murder tonight and its effect on my mood.

"And what kind of bigot calls someone a monster for being an amputee?" I glare at my latest assailant tonight with that statement. As soon as I'm free, I move to grab Nanaya by the wrists and clamp down like a vice until he lets go. He might be fast, but if he's human his bones are gonna snap before long if this keeps up. In any case, I'll back off as soon as I'm free.

After that's resolved I turn to address the sudden request of the girl who aided me. As I do so, her smile all but knocks me to the grab, followed by an admittedly cute expression. I look to my left for a moment, feeling a slight heat on my face.

I've never been any good at dealing with women.

"To be honest, I'd like to say no." I sigh with this statement.

"It shouldn't involve me, but I live here too. And after what happened tonight, I can't imagine I'll be able to stay uninvolved for long."

I look back to her along with the razor jockey. "Long as Exacto-boy here doesn't try to gut me, I'm in."


(OOC: For the record, my character isn't named Touko))
 
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Kurogane86

The Crimson Archer
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#14
Takashi Nanaya

As Takashi plotted his next move he suddenly felt really heavy. This sensation hit him hard as he was barely able to keep his grip on Banfield or the box cutter. "What's going on." He asked no one in particular. He felt as uneasy as his mind started racing. 'Holy shit, im way out of my league here ive heard of the church but i didnt know they could do this? At worst i thought it was mantra's and crucifixes. Then theres Banfield, these fake arms of his that can punch spirits. What the hell? This is insane. I need more info i need to get out of here.'

The girl from the church cancels her magic suddenly and Takashi finds his wrist being crushed. "The strength." He said as he tried to hold out, but eventually releases his target. The exacto knife falls to the floor. Banfield releases him and starts talking to the girl, Takashi realizes that Banfield was like him, he had abilities and tried to live normally. "Im not a bigot. I just, like i said sensed you were off. My. My bad." He said as he massaged his wrist. "Im not gonna gut you, relax." He said as he picked up the knife and put it away. "See, all gone."

He faces the girl of the church who asks for their help with a cute face. Even though he thought she was cute it didnt faze him like Banfield who was completely red. "It's my sworn duty to protect this city, so obviously im in. Im Takashi Nanaya." He stood there wanting to know more but didnt want to reveal his lack of experience in demon hunting. He couldnt help but wish he was trained properly to deal with all of this mess.
 

Shiki

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#15
Angela’s eyes brightened at their responses. “I’m glad to hear that!” And she was; many hands make light work. Even if she wasn’t quite going to trust them - she wasn’t an idiot - she could use their help. “I don’t know this city very well.” Her face fell. “The Lord only knows what’s going on here, and He hasn’t chosen to share it with us, so we’ll have to figure it out ourselves. Hopefully before someone else dies.”

Wait, Nanaya? Weren’t they dead? She closed her eyes for a moment, begging Christ for aid (at least some ibuprofen). Of course this couldn’t be as simple as a mysterious serial killer.

Anyway, she noticed that neither looked to be Magi - the boy looked too emotional, and the Demon Hunting Organization usually had terse-at-best relations with Magi. No Reinforced sprinting across rooftops then; the normal way would have to do. “Do either of you have any idea who might know something? A police autopsist, or...” she waved her hand in the universal gesture for “you know what I mean.”
 
#16
My eyes involuntarily roll at the proclamation of sworn duty and the like, as if the church being involved wasn't enough of a headache.

"Look, I can save you some trouble there." My eyes turn to the formerly possessed man sitting against the wall, eyes now empty as though his soul was removed from his body. An old, fractured memory comes to mind, making my head buzz. Shaking my head, I turn back to the other two.

"We already know where the bodies are coming from. People are being possessed and when their minds break from the pressure, they snap. I'm not thinking the cops are gonna be much help..."

There was...that feeling I had. If it had something to do with what happened back then...

My hand moves scratches my chest a bit, before I notice and pull it back. No need to explain that old scar just yet, not when I don't understand it that well myself.

"I think...I think I can pick up on this stuff when it happens." Hopefully they won't wanna know why just yet. I wonder if it has anything to do that. I never did pick up on all this sorcery stuff, even when Touko tried to explain it to me. I really need to stall a bit, figure out how to explain all this, if they start asking that is. "But, you know, this really isn't a good place to go on about this stuff. So sister, you got a hideout or something? Somewhere we can go over all this safely?"


"Aww, now why would you go and do that?"

In a start, my body swings me around to face the man behind me or, rather, above. Halfway down the fire-escape behind sits a man with light brown hair in a ponytail, a messy and lopsided black suit, and brown eyes. There’s no ghost in him. Nothing trying to possess him. And yet, something about him makes my blood run cold.

"Don't you wanna share with me too? I can keep secrets...What do you say?”

(OOC: Sorry it took so long. Introducing the mixed blood villain I mentioned.))
 
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Kurogane86

The Crimson Archer
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#17
Takashi Nanaya

As they spoke several things became apparent Banfield was used to dealing with members of the church, he can fight and has fought against monsters and he seems for the most part to know what he's doing. The girl from the church clearly lacked manners as Takashi cleared his throat. "You know its considered rude to not give your name when some one gives you theirs." He looked at Banfiled who was yammering on and on but didnt even introduce himself to the girl.

Takashi took this opportunity to think about it. The media thinks this whole thing is a bunch of murder suicides, so they wouldnt be of any help. The way they are killed looks to be by brute force so an autopsy wouldnt show anything weird. The police believe its simple murder suicide so they couldn't help either. When the other two spoke Banfield starting acting weird as if he had something to say but didnt. He said he could probably pick up on the disturbances but he didnt seem all that confident.

Suddenly Takashi felt a chill run up his spine, the he heard a voice call out to Banfield. Takashi turned and saw a man in a messy suit. Takashi immediately went on guard. Something about tjis guy screamed danger. Of course that didnt stop Banfield from taljing to him normally. He couldnt help but think what had he gotten himself into.
 

Shiki

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#18
Almost before conscious thought, the Key hilts Angela was holding channeled her Prana. The blades that materialized on then shone in the bright flame-light as she brought them up between her and the voice. “Call me crazy, but I’m not quite willing to trust your guarantee.” She tossed a Key into the man’s shadow, just in case. “Identify yourself.”

(OOC: Sorry about the delay!)
 
#19
Before the blade can land, something strange happens. A deep red spark or aura erupts around him for a brief moment before the fire escape he's sitting on falls apart beneath him. As the man descends, I can just barely make out a gun in his hand recoiling as he fires off a few shots at the church woman. Does it have one of those things on the end? A silencer- no, a suppressor I think. When he lands, with a quick roll, he takes aim and continues firing slowly as he makes his way towards her one step at a time.

He's open right now. My right leg is also prosthetic from the knee down, so it should give me a solid boost. I kick hard with my right and close the distance quickly, grabbing his pistol at the barrel jabbing for the left side of his jaw.

Before I can tell what's happening, his left arm easily deflects a well trained punch and his forehead suddenly blocks my view. For a moment, my vision fails me right before a sudden and sharp pain in my gut sends me onto my back. I hold my stomach gasping for breath as he stands above me, pistol raised.

"Not bad kid," he says. "But you should try hitting something other than a bag once in a while."