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Post by Mizuyuki on Nov 7, 2016 11:13:00 GMT -6
Soft foot-steps brought the quiet Sacaen to the edge of the small forest in Caelin. With the events earlier in the night involving the two females and the blood-stained male, he'd opted to relocate. After all, he couldn't precisely stay in one place forever and the awareness these others had to he himself made him feel oddly uncomfortable. Once he'd tended his campsite, he made for the forest he'd have to move through to exit Caelin and push deeper into this "Lycian League". A single torch in his left hand raised upwards, served to illuminate his path and better warm him in the chill of night.
Pale complexion took a bronze tint from orange flames dancing so close, and the warmth that washed over his left side heated the skin directly. Mizuyuki kept his gaze forwards, scanning ahead while he rested his right arm within the folds of his yukata; the garb left his left shoulder and arm entirely exposed. His left side relying almost purely on the torch and it's burning flames for heat. His belongings were carried in a small leather sack that dangled along his left shoulder against his back, trailing while occasionally swaying only to softly clump against his lower back. The only other sound beyond the steady rustling of orange leaves sweeping the forest floor when gentle gales blew them along, was the faint sound of arrows jostling within the quiver along his hip. With his yumi strapped securely to his back and blade at his hip, Mizuyuki felt little concern for his own safety. That did little to make the idle darkness of night any more inviting however. Pale beams of light from the colossal full moon bathed his path in more illumination than he'd usually have, making it quite capable to see even without his torch; though the hanging tree branches that still had some small number of leaves cast quite the distinct shadows.
This land was still such a very odd one to him. The society. Their policies and general attitude. Sacaen's were usually honest and upfront. Blunt and spoke truths. Here, people lied. Cheated. Misled. He'd seen examples of it, and couldn't help but feel more out of place because of it. Despite this, he couldn't help but notice within the forest was a small clearing. A series of log cabin's(though most were darkened as befit such a late hour of night) seemed to fill an encircled opening. For a brief moment, he paused. Footsteps falling to a stop while he pondered the necessity of his caution. He resumed his walk moments later and made for the little community. It was nestled snuggled into the forest and he imagined fairly isolated. Perhaps the inhabitants would be less hostile than the average person in the Lycian League he'd encountered thus far.
He'd only taken a few more steps towards the community when he heard a shrill cry pierce the night. A shriek. Obviously a woman's voice, and very obviously in terror. Mizuyuki's entire body froze at the sound, and he focused not on sight, but sound. Trying to taken in what he could hear. The faint sound of something breaking implied a struggle. There for, trouble. His stride quickened as he started to move with haste for the small community. If there was danger to be averted, he would strive to help.
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Nov 7, 2016 15:28:22 GMT -6
Still in somewhat of a foul mood after her interactions with Asri - if arguing, threats, and the impending doom surrounding them could really be called a proper 'interaction' - Kisaragi had cut her training somewhat short for the night, opting instead to return to her temporary abode. It wasn't exactly a thriving city full of night life and countless people, but the small village reminded her of home in its own way. Everyone seemed to know each other, pretty much no crime, and the atmosphere as a whole was just generally relaxed and peaceful. As far removed from Bulgar as night and day. No inn to speak of, of course, but she'd managed to secure lodgings for the night by helping out an old lady with her chores - her experience in her own village had taught her that any community had at least one person struggling to get by, even if the village helped. Helping them in return for favors was a mercenary act in its own way, but also part of the social contract; the woman lost nothing by hosting her for the evening, and in return gained aid for the day. And Kisaragi had put rather a lot of work into the day, so she thought she had earned it pretty damn well.
She had returned 'home' quietly after her moonlit escapades and collapsed like a blackout drunk rather than bothering with such unpleasant and time-wasting things like undressing and getting comfortable. Which... wasn't super unusual for her, but she was generally a tidy sort of girl who liked to be clean, so it was usually only after great exertions that her more slovenly side came out. Nonetheless, Kisaragi was sleeping like a log afflicted with the world's worst case of hypersomnia when a loud crash awakened her with a start, shooting upright still bleary-eyed with her hand on her sword and a head full of cotton. She might have sat there for some time longer had not a second scream grabbed her attention and awakened the sleeping giant - sleeping pygmy would have been more accurate but didn't have quite the same ring to it. Anyways point was that she jumped up, almost immediately wake and alert; not quite at full capacity but the smol Sacaen did have quite a bit of experience with waking up quickly when needed and while this might be a false alarm, she did need to check it out at least.
The monstrous crash and agonized shriek resounding through the cabin did a great deal to help stir her to action, though, and Kisaragi darted out the door with sheathed sword in hand in a heartbeat, aiming towards where she had heard it come from - the older woman's room - she had hardly reached the door when a projectile exploded out of it, nearly winging her. It was a surreal moment, watching her host's empty expression as her severed head rotated lazily in the air before slamming into the wall behind her with a sickening crack and thud, rousing Kisaragi from her own blank reverie as she began to process what had happened.
"The FUC-"
She had only glimpsed the crimson mass of muscle and flesh inside, seeing it shake the remainder of the corpse around before discarding it like a child's doll, before it was already barreling towards her. Kisaragi didn't even have time to unsheathe her sword, just barely bring it up to intercept, before a face from hell itself was staring at her above rows of fangs, clamping down on her blade like so many tombstones and exerting a horrendous force that threatened to rip it out of her hand immediately.
But if that happened, she would be defenseless, and while Kisaragi had a... fairly high opinion of her abilities in combat, perhaps slightly too high, she wasn't quite daft enough to take on a giant murder monster with her bare hands. Bear hands, maybe, but not bare hands. So she held on for dear life with all of her willpower, feeling the stress in her knuckles as they threatened to give away, and then suddenly found herself decidedly weightless as the creature's bite turned out to be stronger than her weight, hefting her up and hurling her bodily backward.
On the bright side, it wasn't into a wall, which would hurt.
On the down side, the window wasn't really a lot more welcoming.
Curled into as small of a ball as she could manage to avoid hitting anything too important, the little sword user quickly found herself sprawling somewhat unceremoniously on the dirt outside, trying to turn her rotational momentum into a quick recovery that... didn't go very well, but at least she managed to get back to her feet in relatively short order. Albeit a little unsteady and bleeding from several cuts... which had cut her clothing... god f**k**g dammit. Well, at least she still had her sword. Because THAT had helped her out so much so far. And what the hell was that thing?
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Post by Mizuyuki on Nov 7, 2016 16:55:24 GMT -6
Every second his stride had quickened. His mind swiftly and acutely racing through the various possibilities. It was, however, limited by his experience on the plainsland of Sacae. Brigands or various raiders occasionally, and their Etrurian aggressors were the only enemies he'd raised a blade to. That..didn't prepare him for what he would face. As the sound of struggle reached his ears, Mizuyuki let the torch he brandished drop. His sandals falling in swift succession upon fairly dry dirt was all the indication he needed that this forest path would not go up in flames. His left hand quickly crossing over his exposed lean figure to clasp at the hilt protruding from his hip, blade sheath securely woven to his body by the sash that bound his yukata closed like a belt. His right hand extracted from the folds of his robe only to begin replace the grip as his left hand began pumping furiously in the air to push his sprint to a maximum.
A body tumbled from one of the homes and onto the small open space that birthed a town circle of sorts a few yards away, the dirt road looping into a small space ahead. This girl..he recognized her. Though obviously having not seen her in such a state prior, he recognized her from the oddity hours prior. The strange paths of fate never would cease to baffle and disgruntle him. Truly. He would have dwelt upon this further, but a feral guttural snarling drew his attention. Mizuyuki quickly turning his gaze to find it's source. His mind instantly jumping to the conclusion of the only other thing he knew that could produce similar noises.
Wolves.
He knew them. Predators that sometimes wandered the grasslands in search of food. Hunting in packs, they were clever creatures and worthy beasts to show respect to. Mizu was no strange to their look either. They were covered in grey rough bristling fur that was thick in texture. Often between waist height and a bit above or below on all fours. Often in the dead of night their howls could be heard. Like the chimes of midnight they were oft to sing their pack's song into the black of nocturne. Knowing this, he was almost taken aback as the streak of red and grey lunged into sight from between two houses towards the downed woman.
Mizuyuki's finger's gripped his blade until already pale skin turned ghostly before the faint clinking of his blade unsheathing broke the night's already strained peace. Leg's bent as Mizuyuki launched himself into a dashing slide and pivoted on his body. As if a streak of brown, putting every last ounce of weight into his movement and pushing his agility to it's peak to intercept the ambush of the second hound(though he knew not of the first) that lunged for Kisaragi. In the open wake of the full moon's light, his blade flashed with a deadly gleam of reflected light even while that monstrous maw of razors opened with gnashing intent; trails of saliva forming tiny thread like tethers connecting upper and lower segments of the beasts maw and teeth alike.
Those terrible fangs came down not upon the thin flesh they sought, but hardened metal as Mizuyuki's family blade parted the space it tried to traverse. Darkened gaze dipped down to gaze upon the hound before it snarled wildly and attempted to shake it's head and wrench free of his blade. The pressure of it's locked jaw nearly twisting his wrists before Mizuyuki pivoted with both hands gripping his blade as tightly as those thin digits could afford. He gripped the weapon so firmly that his arms strained, muscles throbbing within his body and the veins ebbing faintly in the moonlit beams that provided him a picturesque look at the monstrosity.
Though it's base flesh might've resembled a wolf, the patches of crimson fur and foul odor argued contrary. Along the left side of it's jaw, the skin of the beast looked zombified or decaying. One of it's eyes pure white and entire segments between the hounds connecting locked joint of it's mouth exposed by absent flesh to show gnashing muscle. This sight should have horrified him. It should have sent him into a panic. In the face of all he'd faced thus far, this monstrosity set the bar for appalling. Even so, Mizuyuki's body acted in self preservation. His weight shifted onto his left foot and he spun to give his blade a mighty swift tug before it slashed out of the hounds other side through dying skin. The yelp of pain from the beast drown in the ferocious snarl as it hopped back only to snap at the Sacaen male.
Now free of its maw, Mizuyuki tried to further assess. He saw no other foes. Perhaps it was just this beast? No. The girl would've been long gone if this beast had already set upon her in her helpless lapse, brief though it was. Before he had time to carry his thoughts further, it lunged again. This time, Mizuyuki was ready and swiftly swept his blade to the side while quickly settling into his stance for Form III. His body danced like a fluid around the beast; matching speed with speed. Though he had no real opportunity to land a strike, as he danced around it, the hound missed by inches; fangs crunching at the air and spittle bursting out when empty jaws parted once more. He couldn't give it even a second to find an opening..or it'd likely take a limb.
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Nov 29, 2016 6:44:31 GMT -6
For a moment, the village was as silent as death and half as welcoming, leaving the slightly-concussed Kisaragi a little confused on if what she thought just happened had actually happened. Certainly if there was some massive monster attack, there should be more screaming, or dead bodies, or fire, or monsters, or more likely all of the above at once. Instead, it was as if she had just been imagining the scene inside... if not for the broken window she had passed through. She was mostly awake, but just enough of the way drowsy and tired, mentally and physically, that it was a surreal sort of confusion.
So it was actually sort of reassuring when an eruption of crimson blew out the door to her right, accompanied by the sound of struggle somewhere off to her left. At least she wasn't crazy. Or hallucinating. Or both.
The relief wore off pretty quickly when she actually managed to visually latch on to the red-furred monster as it skidded to a halt, staring at her with fangs bared; it was... sort of like a dog, just bigger, bright red, and looked a fair bit meaner than the last dozen angry dogs she could imagine combined. Also... bigger. Damn thing came up past her waist. Pretty close to chest height actually. Admittedly, that was HER chest height, not say an adult male chest height... Not for the first time, Kisaragi found herself slightly salty that she wasn't either a giantess or at least tall. But it was kind of hard to get worked up about that for once given that she was already thoroughly worked up about what the stupid f**k**g mutt had done to her host, so rather than try to wisecrack much of anything, the Sacaen swordmaiden just raised her sword defensively, scowling at the beast as if that would actually accomplish anything.
"f**k**g come at me!"
Sliding into a defensive stance as she angled her blade, Kisaragi's completely-pointless taunt proved VERY effective nonetheless as the devilish dog charged her, a furry missile whose linear assault allowed her to barely sidestep it despite its speed. But her attempt at a counterattack - trying to cut it as it passed - was less ideal, the creature's momentum easily outweighing her mediocre strength and nearly ripping the blade from her hand again, spinning her in place as it passed. She had drawn some blood, but nothing serious, and in fact mostly just succeeded in pissing it off more.
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Post by Mizuyuki on Dec 7, 2016 23:31:37 GMT -6
There was a blur of faded dead grey and crimson as the hound lunged for Mizuyuki once more. It lunged in a forwards lurch, while the swordsman shifted his weight upon his left foot and pivoted his body to the side. Kicking off with the other foot he swiftly spun to the side while sliding along the dirt surface beneath, directly sliding as grass matted downwards beneath his weight with the Sacaen whipping his hand out. Both hands gripped his blades hilt with tight digits coiling around, and in a single fluid motion he was able to sweep his blade outwards along the length of the dogs side while it lunged past him. The faint resistance of flesh and muscle against his blades sharpened lethal edge gave a familiar and almost satisfying tension to his grip.
It jerked when it caught upon bone near the hounds spine, and instead of allowing it to hook he began to retract it so a more shallow laceration finished the strike. Where he expected to hear a wounded yelp though, he simply heard a feral snarl and another aggressive poise greeted his deadened gaze. Though thick dark sanguine blood trickled from his sword and splotches dampened the dirt, the fiendish hound appeared unphased. As if the concept of pain was lost unto it.
It seems, that you must be killed before you shall cease hostility...
The hound lunged again. Its body unhindered by the rather severe wound that it had been dealt. Mizuyuki continued to keep his proximity. Shifting his weight he once more spun into a crescent arced slash. However instead of moving to carve along its side he had moved to a more fatal strike. One designed to decapitate. Perhaps it was the level of sharpness his blade housed. The killer edge that allowed it to seamlessly rend flesh. Maybe the momentum of his, clashing with the dogs and the respective speed of either motion? When his blade met its target this time, it was from beneath the throat. His hands guiding the sharpened blade upwards as he swung from lower left to upper right and cleaved part of the fiends neck, skull and jaw at a precise skywards angle. The brief monstrous increase in resistance as his weapon nearly lodged itself into the connecting base of the spine sent a huge strain to the joints of his arms. Primarily the ball joint within the socket of his left shoulder. It housed an especially uncomfortable pain
The thump as the hounds body hit the ground past him was weighted. As was the second thump that followed when the fiends head rolled past Mizuyuki's feet. It bumped lightly against the side of its lower torso which now lay lifeless. An even thicker layer of crimson adorned his blade. The pools trickling down were more steady. Like fat globs of honey falling from a bee hive that was over stocked. Except, instead of honey, it was the blood of demonic hell hounds. Mizuyuki flicked his right hand once, to release the majority of the blood from the blade. As he did so however, he heard yet another snarl. A second doog was slowly approaching. Evidently, since the girls hands were full a moment ago, it would fall on him to kill it.
And kill it he would...
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Dec 30, 2016 2:33:12 GMT -6
As she came closer to fully awake and alert, recovering from her expedited window exit and early awakening alike, Kisaragi realized there was more combat going on, though she didn't have the luxury of spectating with casual interest with Fido over here ready to slobber over a bone. She only caught a glimpse of Mizu's ongoing battle before the rising growls from her own fight drew her attention entirely, reminding her of the failure of her last attempt and the need for speed that this whole fight took.
This time, though, Kisaragi didn't bother waiting for it to charge, instead leaping onto the offensive herself as she charged the beast with sword drawn before her, though hanging low. Each step in the dirt provided the harsh, jolting sensation she needed to ground herself in the moment. To force her body to realize that this wasn't just a sparring match, or an opponent who might leave her in peace after victory, or one she could reason with; only a monster who would savage her corpse as he had the woman before her. It was a sordid reminder, but a necessary one as she closed in, leaning just a little bit to the right much as she had when the beast had charged her before.
This time, it recognized the tell-tale movement and preempted her dodge, bringing raking claws through her - or rather where she had been, the feint abandoned as Kisaragi slipped to the side, skidding as she forcibly arrested her forward motion with her left foot and used the right to anchor herself during the retaliatory slash, the silvery arc of steel glinting through the dim light before being bathed in crimson. It wasn't a deep strike, but enough to draw blood once more... and the creature's ire.
It had thrown more of itself into the failed attack, but the brute physical strength and flexibility it possessed allowed it to pivot quickly nonetheless, bringing a set of claws raking vertically downward as Kisaragi was forced to hurl herself backwards, skidding backwards unsteadily on her knees and free hand before it was already on her again. This time she wasn't able to dodge it as well, but this time she was also ready for it, bringing her blade up directly to impale the creature and weaken its body slam. It was an attack born of necessity though, not choice, and not possessed of the power to halt the creature's movement as it came crashing down on her nonetheless, the pair rolling and sliding in an inchoate mess of red and purple.
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Post by Mizuyuki on Dec 30, 2016 22:38:47 GMT -6
The first loud snap punctuated silence which had enveloped Mizuyuki. His body wove backwards while he felt the faintest of gusts from the ferocious impact from the zombified hounds maw clamping shut while it lunged through the air at him. His body spun, weight pivoting upon his heel as he evaded the strike. The doog landed on all fours before turning around swiftly. The arch in its back and manner in which it hunched forwards betrayed its actions a split second prior, before it lunged once more. Again, Mizuyuki spun to dance past it, the faintest hitch of his sword barely grazing ashen flesh of rotten aesthetic. Sharpened steel slashed through fetid skin with a sickening rip. The hound registered this wound less than Mizuyuki who had dealt the blow. Guttural snarling and feral growls loosened from parted muzzle while the streak of red came once more for another pass.
Metal glistened in the brief snippets of pale lunar illumination that could breach through the surrounding tree's and building roofs. Mizuyuki lifted his blade, gripping with either hand as he stepped forwards only to slash outwards. His body spun into the strike and the momentum generated gave him just barely the minimum force to inflict more distinguishing damage unto the fiend. Another snap, but this time...closer. He could feel the globules of saliva from its muzzle while rows of foul stinking fangs became so uncomfortably close to his vision. This..would not deter him though. The Sacaen lifted his left leg almost as it kicked off the ground for a third strike. The swordsman's leg ascending only to catch the fiend in the jaw. His heel crashing into the doog's jaw before a few pale fangs burst out onto the ground beneath. Three in total. The swordsman lifted his blade further, so it ran angular along his body quietly. He had a feeling, it would get a-lot harder now, for it seemed eh had...enraged the fiend.
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Dec 31, 2016 3:07:45 GMT -6
"GRAH!"
Eloquently grunting in response to the demon dog's rear right foot slamming into her chest as it struggled to free itself, Kisaragi returned the favor with a boot of her own, ripping the wakizashi out of the creature's chest as she used its skidding body as a point to jump off of, further pushing it away and arresting her own moment for a moment in the air before landing on both feed unsteadily, still moving enough to skid in a full rotation as she focused, as ever, on her footing. That was something not even she could argue the value of; dad had drilled it into her mind until it was second nature.
Given a moment to recuperate and compose herself, the growling and crashing from nearby drew the scarlet swordwoman's attention again, able to focus on the battle unfolding near her... it was too dark to make it out in the absolute detail of the light of day, but the dark skinned swordsman looked vaguely familiar. Or was it veiguely? ...Where had THAT come from? Anyways, tall dark and handsom-OH right he was the guy from the Ito and Asri crap Show who spent all his time looking angry, that was the one. Probably practiced in front of a mirror 12 hours a day.
Seemed like he spent the other 12 hours with a sword in his hand though, 'cuz he was pulling off some fancy moves that looked more like the kinda shenanigans Veigue had rocked when crushing those baddies, and then, uh, also her, like a rotten grape. Welp, rip that last remaining shred of self esteem. The dog he was fighting couldn't even scratch him, and it looked at least as big and angry as what she was fighting, not that Kisaragi was exactly an expert on Mauthe Doogs or even knew what the f**k they were called or who invented them. If nothing else though, it did give her a bit of incentive to win - partially so she didn't look like a total tool in comparison, and, ah, also because she WAS going to challenge him to a sparring match the instant it was actually practical.
The renewed thrashing near her drew Kisaragi's attention to the fact that break time was over; apparently STABBING IT IN THE f**k**g CHEST wasn't enough to put her opponent down. She had aimed for the heart, but uh, apparently these dog things didn't quite work the same way people did, for all she knew they didn't even HAVE hearts. It was injured though, that much she could tell at a glance, its measured approach towards her marked by a very slight limp that showed her attack had inflicted at least some damage. She was... less than unscathed but so far not seriously injured, just some minor cuts and bruises that could be tended to later. Not the worst trade off so far, though in return it would only take one or two good attacks from that creature for her to go splat a lot faster than he would.
"HEY YOU," she raised her voice to carry better to Mizu, completely clueless what his name was and not particularly wanting to address him by 'angry looking dark guy' because for some reason people got even angrier when you told them they looked angry. "...Don't die." Grinning like the sack of crap she was, and partially hyped up in the moment, Kisaragi charged the dog again, all though of Mizu purged from her mind as she analyzed her options while closing the distance. She'd lowered the creature's mobility, but it was still mostly unharmed and quite capable of crushing her like an ant if given half the chance. And she'd already tried juking both directions AND under it, so... to go above it was the obvious followup. But would it expect that? It wasn't a lightning fast learner, but it seemed to be able to read patterns, and she had fed it exactly that, intentionally or no.
The real problem though, Kisaragi thought to herself as she leaped to the right, taking a step off of the wall of the house as the dog only a meter or two away turned with her to face her assault, was that she had no easy way of taking it out completely. If stabbing didn't work, and slashing didn't work, and it either didn't have a heart or had it somewhere she couldn't see... hm. Not sure if she'd planned it or if it was a last minute thought, Kisaragi adjusted the angle as she leaped off the vertical surface, dropping low rather than going high as her blade followed her angular momentum. The creature, expecting an assault from above, was just a moment too slow to react to the faster and lower motion, allowing the silver arc of her blade to slice through the air at its neck.
But the cut wasn't deep enough to decapitate it, though Kisaragi was certain she had drawn blood by the arresting force of the creature's body against the sword, and in that moment she was still cursed by her own motion where the creature was not. It followed her motion with a massive bite, her gaze locked onto the crimson stained fangs as she threw herself to the right to avoid it and ruined her recovery, but it was already on her again, its right paw slamming into her own chest with horrible force that knocked the breath right out of her and very nearly ripped the sword from her grip as her recovery was utterly obliterated, sending the stunned myrmidon spinning and skidding away from it in a partial daze as she tried to understand exactly what was going on and where was the conductor, she would very much like to get off this wild ride, please and thank you.
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Post by Mizuyuki on Jan 1, 2017 12:35:58 GMT -6
HEY YOU.
Oh joy. She was a loud one. Perhaps it would've suited to simply let the hounds kill her? No doubt he would be spared a potentially loud interaction.
No...
His honor would not allow him to stand by whilst a woman died. Even a loud one.
...Don't die.
You know. His honor didn't mean he couldn't let one kill him. Maybe they'd do it quickly enough that he wouldn't have time to consider the horrible alternative?
No...
That wouldn't do either. He had a family and tribe to avenge.
Before he could ponder assisted suicide or murder further respond to her, the snarling of his target drew his attention once more.
He had done good so far, evading any form of injury. Were he the type to boast, now might've been such a moment. However had he flung such sh*t, it would have been simply returned to sender in moments. For as he saw the hound turn upon its paws for the umpteenth time to lunge it surprised him. Something that briefly stained his calm expression, lips parting and darkened eyes briefly widening. The hound's adjustments were slight. Barely noticeable. Being used to battling other fighters in swift duels however, those slight motions were the very ones he looked for. Covert alterations in poise or posture. Shifting of the tiniest inch. Unfortunately, he had already started moving to the right with one foot kicking off the ground in a slight side-step like hop. Complacent, in his dance with the fiend. That complacency would earn him his first injury since the massacre.
The hound tucked down and barely pivoted to the right before lunging. Jaws aiming for the chest before Mizuyuki raised his hand instinctively over his chest. Left arm exposed in place of vital organs and a more integral part of his body. Darkened fangs sank into his forearm with ravenous ferocity as the force and the fact that he'd landed upon one foot coupling to knock him backwards, landing upon his back while the hound tackled him down. The pain within his arm was mixed, but his body acted on instinct. He kicked his legs upwards and used his good hand to sweep more momentum in his direction while slashing at the snarling monster which attempted to remove his arm.
He arced his back upwards and kicked his feet skywards as his weight shifted and he managed to struggle beneath the hound enough that the threat of his blade prompted it to attempt a movement while snapping at the sword itself. This kept it from latching onto his arm which was now stained with thick red trails curling around it. The hound flailed through the air before Mizuyuki rolled back forwards before tumbling onto his feet and turning around. The pain blurred out, and in its place he felt a single desire. From ruinous whispers in his mind he could feel a sheer murderous intent overwhelm him. Slowly, Mizu ran his palm along the wound of his arm, fingers lightly dancing atop flesh that had been sundered. When crimson stained his pale digits, he brushed it over his blade quietly. A quivering flicker of hostility bursting into an inferno of raw lethal desire.
The snarling creature hunched over once more. Dauntless. Unable to feel fear or any sense of arbitrary self preservation. In that moment, mind drifting so dangerously back to the past, neither did Mizu. He began to walk forwards slowly, each step swaying slightly in that direction while he focused inwards. Blade trailing to his side and hands nearly slack in grip. Small specks of sanguine staining the ground after each step. His body felt weightless. In that moment, the hound lunged. Mizuyuki moved with unrestrained abandon. Whipping his hand upwards even as his fingers locked onto the hilt of his katana with iron-clad grip. His entire body lurching into the swift motion as he brought the weapon down along the doog. Spinning to hit it a second time while it traveled still through the air.
Sprays of viscera and blood followed moments after his blade made precise incision like cuts along the length of its body. Creating a large tear along the side of its ribs while also having removed part of its snout. Enough damage if dealt, it seemed, could put them down indefinitely.
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Jan 6, 2017 16:41:30 GMT -6
The world was still spinning when she hit the wall with enough force to drive much of the wind from her sails, not to mention the breath from her body. It wasn't a fatal blow, but the sudden shock did very little to help the disoriented myrmidon in her recovery; she was pretty tough, at least by the standards of ornery 16 year old girls, but not exactly clad in heavy armor and barrier spells, so it took more out of her than she was proud to admit.
That said, the growling snarl rapidly approaching DID do a fair bit to helpfully remind Kisaragi that oh yeah, if you don't get your crap together you're going to be dead in about two seconds because the damn dog can literally bite you in half, and that would really suck. Peeling herself off the side of the building and stumbling to her feet, she - had no time to survey the scene before a whirlwind of black and red was already all over her like flies on crap, the dog moving faster than it had been, perhaps fueled by rage or simply not as injured as she had thought it was. Or maybe she was the one not moving as fast as she had been. The distinction registered, but was somewhat lost in the fuzziness of her head, not that she had the time to think it through. The little Sacaen was already on the move, rolling under a scything slash that rent splinters from the sturdy wooden wall where she had been a moment before.
This time, she did have enough time to regret subjecting herself to MORE rotation as she reached upright again, but not enough to counterattack before the creature had rounded on its heels and leaped at her again, though this time less overreaching its attack than it had before. Rather than give her an easy opportunity to counter, it seemed to be measuring its assault despite the unholy fury imbuing its motion; rather than simply charging it led with tooth and claw. A horizontal arcs that nearly stole all feeling from her wrists in the wake of blocking it. A feint of its own, a half-attack that bled into a dash to her right from which it launched forward; she barely fell back in time to miss having a chunk of her front side taken out, cutting another line down its side, and this time having the presence of mind near the end to exert her strength and cut downward, partially severing the left rear leg as it passed.
It was an interesting experience for her, Kisaragi in equal parts frustrated at the fact that she wasn't clearly the fastest thing on the battlefield, and finding that being frankly outclassed and a good hit or two away from death set her blood thundering in her veins, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. There was something to be said for crushing weaker foes yes, but a fight, a REAL fight, the kind that pushed your limits and punished you for not giving it your all... it was addictive. She'd never tried drugs, they weren't really a Sacaen 'thing' so to speak, but from what she had learned in Lycia they sounded sort of similar in that regard. The idea of chasing a high... was this why her father had fought, or had it really been just to protect her and mother?
Unfortunately, the Mauthe Doog was not as fond of the idea of taking a short break to reminisce about the past as it was in f**k**g eating her alive, and the myrmidon's moment of distraction was all it took to bring it on her again, faster than she could dodge, despite its injury. But it wasn't like she had just been sitting there totally zoned out. She had seen it coming, been alert enough to recognize it, only her absolute focus had slipped for a second. So Kisaragi still had time to bring her slender sword up to meet it head on - and while it once again impaled the creature bodily, she most certainly did not win the war of momentum. As two became one, the swordswoman was forced backward, and in a moment of weakness lost her footing entirely against the far larger creature, forcing her to her back in a jarring smash that brought the foul beast's fetid breath all too close to her face, slavering jaws and poisoned scent bathing her senses in overwhelming hatred.
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Post by Mizuyuki on Jan 10, 2017 10:39:13 GMT -6
The hound's body slumped dead, audibly. Mizuyuki's hand gripped his blade with unyielding grip and he remained briefly in the same poise he'd struck with as his honey hued gaze followed the slain body to ensure that it stayed a corpse. As it slunk to the ground with a heavy thud of dead weight, he quickly flicked his blade once to remove a bulk of excess crimson stain before he held out a single thumb to the flat of the blade. Index finger of the left hand inched the opposing side and he lined the point of his blade with his sheath before quickly sliding the blade in. Sanguine fluid stained his pale digits as he bedded the blade within its sheath and flicked his fingers to remove further of the stain.
A sudden series of grunts and snarling drew his attention though as he snapped his head around to find the girl struggling with the canine that she had been initially fighting. Mizuyuki knew that he wouldn't be able to approach it without driving it more into a desperate frenzied state. At-least he'd assumed such. Disadvantageous odds often put creatures into a more feral place than their norm. Not to mention, most blade strikes would likely endanger the girl as well. However...
Mizuyuki swiftly spun to his left knee while pulling out his bow in one fluidic motion. He pivoted at his waist to level the bow while his hand lowered to the quiver upon his back level with his waist. Index finger and middle finger pinching an arrow shaft while he felt the faint feathery bristle brush his knuckle before he knocked the arrow. Drawing it back, the taut resistance of the bowstring as he drew the arrow back from his yumi until the tip of the butt was near his cheekbone. In that brief motion lining up the shot instinctively, this scenario literally no different than hunting wolves. The arrow leveled, and he fired it towards the mid-back region of the fiend. The heavy thwum of the bow string snapping back to place and launching the arrow sent force reverberating through his left hand the second his right hand released the pinched grip over his arrow. At-least this way, he knew he put much less risk in harming the girl because the arrow could likely throw the fell hound off of her.
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Jan 23, 2017 17:37:19 GMT -6
The jolt of the creature's body was confusing; Kisaragi had no way of knowing what had happened outside of the small world of claws and fangs and death and matted fur that surrounded her in the moment, no idea that Mizuyuki had aided her, nor even the faintest idea of how his fight was going. But the momentary break in the creature's motion was all the opening she needed; she was blind to the outside world, not to her own fight, and the smol Sacaen thrived off of taking advantage of small breaks in the concentration and defense of her foes. Kinda had to, really, considering she didn't necessarily hit hard enough to make them herself, at least not physically.
But in that moment of the beast's distraction she was already moving before she even began to think of a plan, kicking the creature up and off of her with both legs while simultaneously ripping her sword out of its chest. Part of her vindictively wanted to do as much damage as possible on the way out, but Kisaragi's instincts told her not to waste her time, allowing her to understand that the time and effort spent dragging it through flesh and possibly catching on bone would waste her momentary advantage. So instead she just pulled it out straight, a thin squelch sounding as the silver appeared lengthwise from the creature, her focus tightening from good to absolute as the Sacaen swordmaiden grasped the handle with both hands.
A thin arc of silver carved through the air, separating the creature's head from its body in one final swing. Bereft of any need for defense or caution, with a target that was momentarily unable to dodge or block, she had been able to put everything into that one two-handed bisection even with a less than ideal blade and do the job.
Swinging the sword downward sharply to shake off the excess blood, Kisaragi sheathed her blade in one last fluid motion, the fight finally over at least for now. Though as the two parts of the corpse hit the ground, she saw the arrow in its side, her head jerking in the vague direction it had come from, and saw Mizuragi there... with a bow... god f**k**g DAMMIT! Any good mood she had had evaporated as Kisaragi realized it hadn't been entirely her doing that she'd had the opportunity to end the fight, more an opening Mizu had given her. Certainly helped to limit any ego she could have gained from all this... not for the best, in her opinion. At least it was a reminder that she had a ways to go before she could consider herself particularly dangerous.
Swallowing her pride, the surly Sacaen bit her lip for a moment before turning to face him, hands dropping rigidly to her sides as she bowed ceremonially to him, not quite able to show her face for risk of anger warping it. She was grateful to be alive, yes, she objectively recognized that fact and that she owed him her thanks, but... she'd wanted to prove herself absolutely here, not have to rely on anyone else. "...Thank you."
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Post by Mizuyuki on Jan 24, 2017 22:38:53 GMT -6
Mizuyuki rose from his crouching position a moment after firing the arrow. The girl had taken plenty of momentum from the opening it seemed. Especially given her retaliation. She was small, but fierce. Especially with her blade, it seemed. Most girls that looked to be her age in his tribe would have fared far worse. She was of the Hawk, most certainly. Mizu quietly gripped his Yumi as he made for the slain hound, placing a single foot on it to keep its lifeless, headless body still while leaning down to extract the arrow. The toughness of its hide was still somewhat surprising to him as he felt the arrows hooks shred and tear through resistant flesh.
Dull gaze cast in a darkened lightning slightly from his overarching bangs drifted to her as the girl quietly thanked Mizuyuki, bowing in the process. The Sacaen swordsman quietly placed his arrow back in the quiver above his waist before tucking his free arm over his abdomen and bowed in return.His head inclined and he nodded towards her afterwards, speaking in the somber tone he was bound to. He now understood that the girl's presence at the campsite the night prior had been no mean threat. She'd likely been more than apt at handling herself if the situation with the blonde haired boy had called for it. That was strangely comforting. To know things would've been well in her favor regardless of his presence.
"You are welcome. You...fought very well. "
Well was a subjective term. In this situation it was accurate though. She struggled with a challenging foe and came out the victor. That she'd survived despite such a disadvantageous predicament was noteworthy in its own merit. Mizuyuki strapped his bow to his side and quietly turned to look around the quiet town. He'd not heard screams or sounds of inhabitants. Were they also dead...or perhaps had taken refuge behind bared doors at the sound of combat? No one else seemed to be-
"Have you any idea how long it took me to trap those things? Now..thanks to you two I have to start all over again!"
A voice came from around a corner near the center of the small town as a swordsman came walking around the corner. He wielded a larger, flatter blade clearly not of Sacaen style in Mizuyuki's eyes. His accent was also similar to those of Lycia. The man was wearing leather armor, and a coat of leather and furs. He rolled his eyes before speaking again, pointing his blade first at Mizuyuki then at Kisaragi.
"You also ruined my business! What good is someone to protect a town, if there is no threat to be protected from! I'd say you two will regret this but well..you won't be living to regret it! Pff...a frail Sacaen mongrel and the skinny twig of a puppy you two are!"
Mizuyuki had already placed a hand to his sheath quietly, while the man began to taunt the Sacaen Duo.
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Kisaragi
Myrmidon
Posts: 66
Affinity: Thunder
Profile: Kisaragi
OoC Alias: Nayru
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Post by Kisaragi on Apr 20, 2017 0:32:22 GMT -6
The other Sacaen seemed to be taking things at his own pace, recovering his arrow and considering her words in time rather than hurrying to a resolution. Kisaragi was frankly uncertain what to make of it. And it wasn't JUST because he had complimented her... not that her perking up a bit in the immediate wake of it, her ego inflating, made much secret of her pleasure at being complimented. Especially given that, whether or not she liked it, he was, apparently, a more experienced fighter than her. She didn't think of it as being... BETTER than her. Merely possessed of more of a past to draw from. Given time she would match - exceed - what she had seen. Much as she was determined to supersede everyone else.
Nonetheless, the darker skinned warrior was the first person she had run into since leaving Sacae who hadn't already started actively trying to piss her off, attack her, or made the mistake of obviously being WAY better with a sword than she was, so Kisaragi was forced to improvise a response. Not that it was THAT rare of course. In the village she got along well with most. But her experiences with the rest of Elibe so far had been so universally negative that the smol swordmaiden had almost come to expect some form of treachery or general dickery and was thus momentarily nonplussed to find none.
"...Kisaragi," she eventually managed with something approaching a slight lopsided grin on her face as she realized she had WON - survived the monster - proven that she wasn't just a kid trailing in the shadows of those far greater than her. She didn't bother adding the clan name. The Deva were... well, Kisaragi didn't like to think about it, and she definitely didn't want to talk about it. Not a matter of hatred. Just preference. She didn't want anyone to know her as a Deva. Just... Kisaragi. Bah. Too deep for her tastes. Kisa generally found that fighting was harder and more fun than thinking, so she definitely had a list of priorities there. And dammit if she wasn't kinda sore.
Unfortunately, the world loved a joker, and so a totally cliche villain showed up out of nowhere to take a big fat steaming shi-Kisaragi caught herself in the act of catching herself, momentarily holding back the thought at the concern of her father chiding her language, then catching that thought as the foolishness it was in turn. That was frustrating. Regardless, as she rested her left palm on the grip of her sheathed blade, Kisaragi faced the oncoming asshole with an ugly look marring her soft face. She wasn't as much of a talker as he apparently was, and still flushed with her victory a moment ago, the stubborn Sacaen didn't stop to think of the possible difference in skill. "I'll do you like I did the dog. Shut up and fight."
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Post by Mizuyuki on May 24, 2017 18:57:01 GMT -6
Mizuyuki's hand clasped the hilt of his weapon quietly. The faint rustling of his steps upon the soft earthen dirt as he began to make quiet steps towards the man who toted a broadsword so confidently upon his shoulder. His shoulders perfectly poised as he pivoted ever so slightly. Fractions of an inch. Knuckles barely bleached with a white hue from the strain of his grip as he adjusted into Form III. Eyes narrowed and gaze locked with the body of the foe before him. Silent as the grave, appropriately, while he approached. A scoff of the lycian no name who had chosen to tempt both of the sacaens.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Each stride steady, with length of them growing and interval swiftly climbing. Until Mizuyuki started sprinting towards the Lycian mercenary. His blade rang with grinding hiss as he swiftly unsheathed it and feinted with a right-words slash. However as the man's eye followed the blade to the right, his left foot pivoted and he shifted his weight along his right foot before spinning in a swift twirling strike that sent the blade slashing upwards. Razor edge effortlessly sending the tip piercing through leather and flesh as he inflicted a shallow laceration from left hip up to right shoulder. The man's shout was followed by a blatant telegraph as he lunged with slow blade forwards. His brown haired foe however was not quite finished, for as Mizuyuki completed the motion he flourished his blade and pivoted once more into a lunging dash while sliding past the man. His blade catching against the ribs and slashing once more while he pivoted with a final turn and kicked at the man's lower back. Body already recovering from its brief exposure as the man hissed and flailed forwards. This, in turn sent the lycian oaf stumbling towards Kisaragi's direction, where he tried to continue the motion into an assault upon her.
As if trying to recover from his strike, he lifted his blade. The wound to his shoulder visibly slowing him further already as he lifted his hand and shouted with him attempting to bring the blade down.
"At-least you'll die you rotten bitch!"
At-least to Mizuyuki, who had flicked his blade once to remove excess blood before grazing the metal stained with crimson twice over along the entrance of it's sheath to cleanse it before holstering it felt like he was watching in slow motion. He was immensely grateful for his blade's lighter weight in that moment.
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