Just a tainted memory...

♟ The unexpected mastermind ♟ Assassin Class servant, Affiliated with KV

[redtruth-blog]

♟ Murderous Pawn [OPEN - 01]

[miraclebitching-blog]

Ah, wasn’t it boring? The witch had yet to find any interest in this so called ‘war’ and she doubted that any common way would awake this interest in her. People fought for all possible reasons; be it something untouchable like justice or simply for an expensive object. Driven by motives which were either selfish or pretended to be selfless; in the end those fights were pointless, weren’t they? 

People lived, they killed and they died. It was the same over and over again; a game with rules which never changed and the outcome of it was the same as well. It wasn’t that most of them even bothered with making it interesting. All they cared about was their own selfish goal which they were ready to reach no matter what they had to risk; a truly foolish behaviour if she might say so.

But oh, what did she spot there in the darkness or rather whom? A familiar figure indeed, a person she knew all too well and hopefully wouldn’t disppoint. No, there wasn’t any chance that this would increase her boredom. Not if it was him.

“Having fun?” She calmly approached talking to him, speaking quietly, yet forcefully enough to not let him think he could ignore her just like this.

Coincidence or fate, she couldn’t exactly tell what had brought them together in that night. How ironic it was, though, that they both had been invited to this place, but in contrast to normal circumstance she appreciated it. Obviously he wanted to play a more interesting game than the one happening currently and her intentions were similiar to this, so it was only natural she offered her help, wasn’t it?

“Bored, eh? Of course only killing isn’t enough to satisfy you. It’s truely a dull way to live, if you just did that. I have to agree with you on this point; it clearly lacks excitement.” 

“You and I want the same, so why don’t we make this game a bit more interesting and add some more factors to the gameboard, Battler~?”

[redtruth-blog]

The figure, walking calmly and composed towards Battler, was a familiar one indeed. The Great Witch of the Senate, Bernkastel, like always disguised her true nature within her innocent appearance. To all those unaware of the true extent of her powers, one would mistake her for a lost girl who was playing dress up. After all - the cat's tail and lolita clothing wouldn't leave much room to any other interpretation to the ordinary man or woman.

To Battler, however, he knew things would be getting more interesting. And fast....

"Well well, who allowed this doll to come out and play...? Kukuku... Lady Bernkastel, it's a surprise to see you here... don't tell me you've wound up on this game board too..."

It was definitely a surprise to see someone of her kind roaming the streets. After all, was she not the Game Master more often than not? How had someone of her standing wound up as a mere pawn on someone else's chessboard? Regardless: the former master now stood as his equal, if not inferior. She was simply another manifestation, just like he was, yet Battler fancied his chances of defeating her should the two trade blows.

Yet to fight her, he felt, would be far more boring than the possibilities the two could come up with themselves. After all it appeared that she had no intentions of striking Battler, rather working with him towards something more... sinister. Knowing Bern, she probably intended to hijack this game board as she had done to others in the past. And he had no qualms with helping her fulfil that objective.

"Your fear... I can smell it from here - unique to someone of your standing, wouldn't you say.... It suits you, ihihihih..... Don't tell me you intend to take this game board for yourself.... or is even that too boring for the Great Witch of the Senate?"

In his hands, Battler materialised a variety of knives - most giving off the shape of common household ones, and approached Bern.

"Don't hold back, tell me.... how do you plan to have fun? Kyahahaa!~"

[alteaned-blog]

how boring ; intro/open

[alteaned-blog]

The malodour of blood was an odour considered incredibly unpalatable to the human nose. It was of the norm to flinch or to shift away from such a stench— but Shiki Ryougi did quite the opposite. She found herself stepping forward to the source of the smell. The essence of blood was nostalgic. It was alluring… incredibly enticing. She yearned for the metallic taste—yearned for its taste. It was not everyday you met a woman who was willing to use blood as lipstick, after all. But things were different: she was no longer in the city she once inhabited.

Her eyes shifted lazily at the silhouette of this peculiar man. She was certain he was not a human. A ghost. A spirit. A silly little ‘heroic spirit’ as they would call them. Visage devoid of any amusement, the woman pursed her lips and surveyed the man. He was covered from head to toe of blood—so he was the source of the crimson liquid, after all.

“I would guess you’re my damned servant then,” she deadpanned, clearly nonplussed. She had observed him carefully, watching him with a glaring gaze that meant: touch me if you dare, I’ll cut you.

… And she did not just mean that, literally.

Surrounding her was the aura of death itself. Shiki Ryougi, while being a lethargic individual who paid no heed to the on-going ‘war’ would not hesitate to strike any foe—even this… servant of hers—down if they were to assail her. She was not cocky by nature, oh, certainly not. She wascertainthat she would be able to completely eliminate the existence of anything living. And it was not a joke, either.

“Haaah… This is really bothersome,” she said after a while. She had no drive—no wish for this so-called war. There was absolutely no wish she wished to fulfill. She’d enter this war without actually weighing the consequences. Not that she really cared, it was just another game—another mystery to solve for Touko.

“What exactly can you do?” She asked her ‘servant’, incredulous of his abilities. By his gear he looked like some sort of age-old warlock sprouting from Merlin’s loins.

“Shiki,” she introduced herself after a while. It was only customary to introduce one’s self, was it not?

[redtruth-blog]

The woman before Battler seemed to be lacking interest, but to a killer like him it was something far deeper than sheer boredom. It was as if she was frustrated that she could not... act out to her full potential, as if she was deliberately restraining herself to be composed. Yet he could see it. When she smelt blood, for a split second, she revealed her true nature - that of a killer who yearns to spill the blood of anyone and everyone. After all, it really was easy for a killer to distinguish another from a crowd. Let alone a lone wanderer on the cold, nighttime streets.

Alas, she appeared to have no interest in Battler or his services. As if his very presence was an unnecessary burden to her, akin to a third wheel at a couple's date. He was certain, however, that this attitude would quickly vanish once the pair got to work. Getting his master motivated, however, would be the challenge. Did Battler need to massacre those hapless bums around the corner to get her bloodlust fuming? Or would something more eloquent suffice? Only time would tell.

"Shiki... Uhehehe... call me Battler... that would be the easiest for now, yes."

To explain the whole story, of how he came to existence, would likely be a bore to his master, so Battler wisely opted not to proceed further with the tale. However, there was one thing he could do: 'What exactly can you do?' - it was time to show off to his master some of his tricks.

"Kukukukuku.... is the blood covering my clothes an insufficient display?"

Embedding a sarcastic tone into his remark, Battler slid into the shadows - the same way he had stalked Shiki through the streets earlier. Waiting a few seconds, he suddenly re-appeared behind his female master. Only this time, pointing his Winchester at the back of her head. Then he pressed down on the trigger... nothing. Of couse, he had emptied the bullets previous to his little stunt, but there was no way his master would have known this. 

Breaking out into laughter, Battler slunk back and holstered his weapon: hoping that this trick was more than enough to show his master some of his capabilities. The other party tricks, however, would need to wait...

[alteaned-blog]

how boring ; intro/open

The momentary lull of silence which greeted her with open arms served to only irk the female further. A foreign vicinity meant no prior knowledge of scope of this map. Certainly, having no current residence in this outlandish city meant having to roam the streets. Not that she’d never done that before—it was primal by nature, a juncture she was contently appeased with.

A slight sigh escaped placid lips as charcoal optics bore lazily into the night sky. It was blanketed by the miniscule stars which were reminiscent of the ones at home. … Of course they were reminiscent. She was under the same dull sky. The same dull sky she could easily carve apart if she was willing to destroy the planet earth.

This ‘war’ that she had so happened to ‘stumble’ upon was but a hindrance to her daily routine. She would have to look for this ‘servant’ of hers. Servant? Heh. If anything, it was something she did not wish to involve herself in. She wondered—would Kokutoh be here as well …?

The presence of another not-so-human-like ubiety jarred her from her small cogitation as hues of onyx momentarily shifted to a kaleidoscopic variant of blue. Truly, these hues appeared ominous by nature—piercing the caliginosity of the gloom of night with such effervescent pigmentation. However, as fast as they had shifted in colour the reverted back to its original state—the calm, stony onyx.

“What a bother,” she mumbled after a while, peering at the individual she had managed to encounter. “What do you want?” she questioned languidly, face bearing the same blase expression she often bore. If this was a participant of this so-called ‘war,’ she would easily cut their existence into oblivion if faced with a skirmish.

[redtruth-blog]

A slight line of blood splatter trailed behind Battler as he walked through the street. The poor illumination from beat-down street lights ensured that the phenomenon that he left behind was not visible to the naked eye. The only people out at this time were the homeless who called this rough outdoors 'home' - too drunk or high to notice the red path he left behind. That or they knew making a fuss about them would probably lead to a similar fate to those whose blood was splattered over Battler's suit. 

At that moment, before his very eyes, stood a woman who did not fit into the surroundings. Wearing a kimono out at a time like this and roaming around aimlessly? The average person could have easily mistaken her for a mental patient and steered clear, fearing she would lash out in lunacy. Battler, however, immediately assessed that she was dangerous in ways far more unique than simple insanity...

Sulking through the shadows, he ensured that she would not detect his presence until it would be too late for her to defend herself. Dark clothing disguising him, he peered through the night's veil and observed the woman as she continued to aimlessly wonder down the pathway. She appeared to not be the least bit concerned with the numerous dangers which could sprout from any direction, but whether this was due to self-confidence or idiocy was still yet to be seen.

Through patient observation, Battler had finally seen the opening he needed. The mysterious woman would be able to detect him the moment he closed in on her, but by that stage - in his calculations - that observation would not be enough to save her. However as he reached into his jacket to withdraw his concealed weapon, his Winchester rifle, Battler felt an otherworldly hesitation run through his body. He suddenly began to doubt his course of action, and this was a first. There was no reason to hesitate now - the kill as all but confirmed, yet his body refused to budge an inch.

Then, it hit him. Why he was in this city, why he existed in this place. A Holy Grail, which could grant anyone their deepest desires. Anything... Battler finally realised why his body wasn't letting him finish his job, his mind was reminding him that this woman was something far more important than a simple victim. Making his presence known, Battler slipped out of the shadows and approached the woman nonchalantly.

"Kukuku..... you wouldn't happen to be my master.... would you?"

[redtruth-blog]

♟ Murderous Pawn [OPEN - 01]

Midnight is truly an appropriately-named period of the day: that time when the world is at its darkest. Impossible to see ahead of you without the guidance of lights, at least with certainty. Usually the more populated areas are covered in lights - nightclubs, restaurants, basic street lights. Sure it wouldn't stop fights, being out at that time usually meant you were drinking or doing something else classified as 'adult behaviour,' but illuminating the darkness would stop any serious form of violence or crime.

The same couldn't be said for those areas saved by the graces of the nightlife, however...

In those areas uncharted, it was an open field. Anything goes. Heading into an area like that, especially in a city as dangerous as Fuyuki City, unprepared would spell certain death. Vagrants, vigilantes, criminals, and lately... much more sinister characters: the city was truly a circus of characters when the night sky settled. And amongst them tonight, a fresh face.

His dark clothing would have usually disguised him with the scenery, but that wouldn't be the case for now. Instead, crimson red blood glistened in what little moonlight there was. It contrasted strongly with the man's pale white face, trying to wipe it off would only smear his face further. The other distinguishing feature: dark red hair, it looked unnatural in its shade like the type that hooligans would get dyed. Yet there was definitely a far more sinister aura to this figure than that of a simple street punk.

Something else glistened for a split second in natural life, an object that the man had slung low in his right hand. A rifle, sawed off so that it could be disguised under an article of clothing. Ironic seeing as he mad no attempt to hide the weapon. The chamber was still hot - it had been recently fired, which explained the fresh blood which covered his body. 

Suddenly, he stopped still in his tracks. And crouched down, sporting a grin which could be best described as unholy. Laughter cackled through into the darkness as the man lost control of any composure he had maintained during his stroll. Then: a murmur...

"That guy.... he was no fun. I wonder if I can find someone more..... fun to play with tonight, kukukukuku...."