Cleyra Act 1: The Protector of the Sanctuary - Open to Cryptic & myself

Jade backed away - he had never spoken to her like that - or anyone she could remember - and every word was like a bladed lash upon her back - words carefully chosen to inflict the maximum damage. The pain was visible on her face for a moment before she composed herself. He was trying to be rid of her ... and placing his beloved dagger under her care was even more troubling. He was trying to remove everything around him - sever all ties so he could do who knows what. People don't do that unless they expect to not escape their next actions alive - allowing those closest to them to feel anger and hate rather than sadness.

This recklessness was unlike him. Despite the wound that he had just inflicted upon her and her general anger about his secrecy, she would not relent. Surrender, even after the most brutal attacks, was never her style. She had once done something similar and it cost her everything. She would not make that mistake again.

"Damnit, Magician. You don't get it - I had nothing left - and for the first time in years, I feel alive. I would rather have a short life protecting something that matters than a long, hollow one, hiding as a coward and letting the world burn around me. So, I guess I used you too - so I didn't have to feel dead inside anymore. Even hatred is a feeling better than emptiness." She picks up the dropped dagger and steps closer to him - painfully close, danger and coldness dancing in her eyes - a look typically reserved for her enemies. "If you want to be rid of me, you'll have to take it out of my hide with steel and blood. I've run out of mercy for your nonsense and I really don't give a damn what you've gotten into. What's it going to be, sir?"

She wasn't leaving. How troublesome; he really did believed that she was going to just turn away and leave after this, as she was not the kind of person to accept being talked or treated like this. Just why was she so insisting? He just told her that she was used, everyone was actually used by him, at least according to his words, just to fuel his actual goal and focus. Thing is, he didn't want anyone else involved, this was his responsibility, and while he was willing to do anything in order to get there, once arriving at what appeared to be the end, he wanted to go alone, and without dragging anyone along with him. This path of carnage and calamity was for him to walk, only.

But she was just not budging. Instead she insisted that she wants to help him, even going as far as to merely claim that he was "used" by her in a similar vein. How naive. She just didn't knew the reality. And, he didn't want her or anyone for that matter, to meddle in and become caught up in what appeared to be a serious, dark situation.

His expression, commentary twisting with agony and frustration that she was that stubborn; no, that loyal, changes after some moments, as he lowers his face for a moment. Well, there was only one thing left for him to try, in order to make her rid of him.

A sharp, fast, loud slap on her cheek follows, really fast and, combined with the fact that it was unexpected of him to even think of doing this to a female, surely caught her off-guard. Slowly, he raises his head, to reveal a sinister, cold, apathetic yet intense and unnerving expression. "You disgust me. Always following me around, always getting yourself in trouble so I'd have to run away from my goals just to bail you out. And you know why I did that? Because .. I was feeling sorry for you! Sorry about a creature as disturbed and repulsive as you. Just cover yourself, will ya, you whore! Leave me alone, and begone! I don't want to have any connections with rubbish like you. Now, GO! Stop pestering me!"

This hurt him on the inside. He didn't really mean a single thing. But, knowing her, this should be more than enough to make her leave. Heck, she may even end up trying to eat him from her fury or frustration. Well, hopefully she wouldn't, because, he had a very important mission. A mission he inherited from ... a hero. And, this mission, since he seemingly managed to grab on the lose end, finally, had become too dangerous for him to allow others to interfere.

Jade could have been been fast enough to catch the blow but part of her didn't believe it would happen and the other part feared what would happen if she caught him.  Her temper was violent and unyielding - and it was usually like some kind of unleashed beast that she could not tame even if she wanted to.  The strike did come, she turned her head to the side, her hair whipping over her face for a moment.  She stood a bit stunned before looking up.  She pushed her hair from her face, which was now bright red on one side and a slight trickle of blood on her lip.  She narrowed her eyes - he was trying to play her - clearly taunting her to lash out. She wasn't going play his game. She had been called far worse by her enemies and they had inflicted greater humiliation upon her but this felt worse - being torn apart by someone you surrendered enough control to trust was like fire. With difficulty, she forced apathy into her voice.

"Interesting perspective.  I'm not sure 'follow' is a bad trait for a reconnaissance unit nor a crew and don't act like I haven't saved your ass multiple times, you nefarious, flightless fiend. You can save your pity of the weak but I won't argue that I am a twisted, vile, and disturbed thing. I rather enjoy being a monster so feel sorry for someone else.  I'm not sure if you've noticed - but this is a desert and home to the hottest temperatures of all of the seas - I'll wear what I damn well please - something I can fight in, something cool, and, frankly - my wardrobe choices are never constructed with you in mind, so I don't bloody care if they displease you.  Furthermore, this ... mess is not my first choice, but if you'll recall, you've turned most of my clothing into confetti - for some reason - but you have conveniently forgotten. You can go a die if you please but do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do. If you want to be rid of me you'll have to do better than a marginally insulting slap. You cannot break me.  You're just not good enough. You can't hurt someone who has lost the ability to care. "

Her head was throbbing painfully, partially from her anger and confusion, partially from humiliation, and partially from being hit. Torn up from the inside she wanted to leave - let him go off on whatever idiotic mission he was driving her away from - but some instinct tugged at her and refused to allow her to abandon him not matter what pain he inflicted upon her. The only way he could would be to defeat her and remove her physical ability to follow. She stiffens, pushing the pain to the back of her mind so she can focus as she steps closer and eyes him carefully. "Can you even look me in the eye and tell me all this is true?"

She smoothly unsheathes her perfectly balanced blade - still standing a bit to close to him to adopt a proper stance. Everything about his rapid demeaning change was suspicious. Her blade had always been a great comfort to her - a silent companion in the darkest of times. Respectfully, she would not use her fruit abilities this fight. She had seen too many of his spit personalities to be completely mentally crippled by the latest incarnation's transgressions. Maybe this was another spell he would completely forget. "I already told you the conditions of my departure - they coincide with my departure from this world. You simply do not possess the influence the psychologically terrorize me into changing my mind willingly - your words are meaningless to me and this thing you have become is inauthentic and unconvincing. "

Calmly, and brutally coldly, he glares at her, while pushing his hair backwards. "Why would I not mean them? Surprised that I think of you so lowly?" He maintained a perfectly convincing demeanor towards her, it really would look like he despises her to pretty much any bystander, most likely even their other crew-mates, for that matter.

That aside, the issue was that, apparently this strategy completely backfired. Not only wasn't she leaving him alone, she insisted on not only staying, but even showing that the only way to be rid of her would be to actually cut her down. This really wasn't something he wanted. However ... she didn't knew. The burden of his goal, and the importance it held. This thing was too important, that it could actually affect the world on a global-magnitude scale. Thus, he had to be cruel and rough, in order to get things done the right way.

Sword is unsheathed and is slowly drawn and placed between them. Sasori, scared and rattled by all this, scatters away, hiding into his dagger form. A hot gust of wind traveled around them, making his hair fly around, them and the cape as well. "It seems that you leave me no choice but to slit your throat ..."

"That is correct.  Although, your confidence may be misplaced. " Se still felt as though her insides had been put into a blender - it took her so lone to actually trust any of them and it seemed that her instinct of caution has been the correct route. She let her guard down when she had seen his affinity for cats, which were excellent judges of character.  At least having him hate her was better than watching him die - like everyone else that mattered to her.  A vicious battle would at least leave her with some measure of control.  She would be able to end herself if she so chose - or cripple his ability to do something stupid.

She still didn't know what to make of it - his words had hit her much harder than his hand ever could - leaving wound that would infect her soul but never bleed - but she would never let him see that.  She would never show any weakness - she had pushed away the conceptual vision of the man she once knew and now all she saw was an enemy, and obstacle, and a foe who was guarding a captive spirit.  Perhaps she could free it with sweat and blood or perhaps with death.

The green had almost drained from her eyes, replaced with a pale glow with a faint green tint.  The Jade he knew was gone for now, replaced with a savage monster - an ancient spirit of blood lust. Although she was not physically a sphinx, the savagery possessed her. Now her only feeling would come from the satisfaction of a good battle.  

The rare desert breeze was hot and dry - it ruffled her hair and filled her with energy.  The airborne particles of sand shimmered in the sun, settling against her golden skin which seemed to glow.  This was her home and though her spirit had been broken, it had given her the strength to shed her identity and become the monster that would have no mercy for the creature who had recently been her best friend.  She stepped back into a fighting stance, choosing one katana instead of two for this battle. "Although I so enjoy the flavour of your blood - do try not to bollocks this up with your weakness. I don't like to associate my blade with trash fights and shitty magic tricks." She wouldn't allow herself to feel guilty for hitting him in the tender spot of his magic proficiency - she needed him to be hurt and angry so he would fight more viciously. "So tell me - why did you find it necessary to make sure I got to this island alive? It had to be you ... did you just do it so you could have the satisfaction of this moment - because, I have to say, it was a pretty bad strategy in the way of being left alone."

Hawks remains silent, only left observing her and her actions. Was he calculating what he had to do now? Or was he rattled as well by all this, or, the prospect that he could end up dead by his own subordinate? She seemingly tried to provoke and agitate him. Her tone and words were much more harsh and direct than when she'd toy with him.

But, that didn't matter at all. She was getting in his way, and he was just wasting time now; that Talani could already be back at her settlement, informing her kind of their arrival. They could come hunt them at any time. And, while they seemingly had a common enemy, these fools assumed that he was working for the Red Rose. So, this had to be done as fast as possible.

"We begin fighting now. Do you think we need to continue chattering? One last word of advice however .. you'll gravely regret it if you underestimate me." he coldly, confidently declares, while placing the sword in front of his face, with his free hand behind the blade.

His coldness and focus was bizarrely stimulating - had she not pushed herself away from this conflict, it would have weakened her but now it was just a distraction she barely acknowledged. "And you should not underestimate a creature who has nothing in this world left to lose." She found it bizarre that his scorpion protector did not feel compelled to guard his master - it was as if Sasori did not even recognize either of them.  

He could have gotten there faster if he just let her do as she pleased but it seemed imperative to insure she would not follow him. What in hell had he gotten into?  She no longer cared. The creature he had become seemed a better fit for Red Rose than the man she knew. Only when she forced herself to become a monster could she fight such a monster.

Still, she found it difficult to initiate the conflict.  She was a guardian - a defensive creature - aside from a good hunt, offensive attack was never her style.  She was a strategic isolationist - good a preventing a siege but not initiating one. Why was this so hard?  All she had to do was what she did best - the blade was like an extension of her being and she used it with precision. It was the fear of success that made her hesitate - but she refused to acknowledge it. She had gripped the hilt so tightly her golden hand seemed a pale white.  She had to loosen up for agility and dexterity.  She shifted her stance but - it wasn't really her job to initiate this conflict.  He was the one who bloody wanted to leave - she merely guarded the exit.  "What are you waiting for?  Get on with it, boy."

"Very well." Declares the male, while giving her a look of indifference. The situation had escalated into something he never wished for, but, ultimately, his motivation was far more important than his life. So, perhaps, the same could be believed about her existence, too.

Some more moments of silence, the calm before the storm, pass, with both adversaries glaring down at each other. What was on each one's mind at that time? Was there any remorse, from either, about what they were about to place themselves into? Was Hawks's vigilante mission really that vital that the situation had to finish up into a standoff between two subordinates? It appeared so.

A strong, deep, right foot's step follows, as the blonde magician leaps forward, speed almost as if tearing apart the fabrics of the dense, hot air around them. In a fraction of a moment's notice, he approaches her, holding the blade close to his body. "Martin's Peck."

Martin's Peck ... this attack was the equivalent of a sword being used the same vein as a dart, only that the user wouldn't release said blade. The nature of this type of attack, there was no mistaking it, was murderous in terms of intention.

The breeze had departed and the air was thick, heavy with tension - electric. She could feel a tingle in every inch of her body. She always gained so much pleasure from battle anticipation that it radiated off her skin like pure energy. Despite her body's lustful reaction to the prospect of blood, she wanted all of it to be over. She still did not push the feeling of blood lust away - she would need this blinding ferocity to get through this.

Light flickers in her eyes as she watches the magician leap in the air - she had rarely seen him move so fast. She barely had time to move slightly back and the the left pivoting slightly on the ball of her foot as she brings her blade to intercept the flank of his strike. Even with her evasions and offsetting the trajectory of the blade, the strength of the attack still almost overpowered her efforts. She knew where that blade was meant to go - a clean, one-hit kill. The strength behind it let her know that this wasn't for show and assured her the creature she knew him to be was indeed gone. She only saw uncharacteristic emptiness and coldness in his blue eyes, making them seem more like shards of ice than essence of sky.

With their blades still engaged at high pressure, her right foot comes up to squarely knock him in the chest, intending to knock him back as she steps back slightly. Her blade now felt like air as the surge of a new challenge enveloped her. Her human for was the swiftest, most nimble, and skilled with the blade and because of this - often more lethal than the raw power of her sphinx abilities - which she would not use.

Her swift frame moved slightly to the right - then with a swift pivot, left and her blade followed her motions in an oblique, up-sweeping figure eight - the top at neck height, the trajectory trailing obliquely across the height of the abdomen, straight over the the bit beneath the height of the navel, obliquely up the other direction and ending at the neck again - the swift motions of the blade blurred, hiding their path. "Wings of Horus..."

She was really good a fighter, after all. Her speed and reflexes were top-notch, and, while her ability, being that of a carnivorous entity, did amplified her natural instincts and dexterity, she was already an admirably nimble and remarkable fighter; a difficult opponent to have, to say the least. But, in this battle, he did had one small advantage. He knew about all this already, but, she didn't knew the full extent of his skills, because he never really revealed said skills. And, while it was true that she could, just as likely, possess some hidden tricks up her sleeves (which she didn't had, but clearly this wasn't to be taken literally now, huh?!), he had to capitalize on his own hidden moves, and just keep an open mind in case she is able to out-predict him.

This, as she elegantly, yet deadly and quickly, came closer and closer, her blade following a very dangerous and confusion trajectory, he was ready for this. With lighting fast speed, he pulls off his second sword, then, as he was somewhat leaning backwards, steps forth on his right leg, actually moving and pushing forward, closer to her attack; he wouldn't idly wait for her to strike him in a position she'd be more comfortable with, after all. And now, ducking forward, he brings both blades ahead, blocking any incoming attack with a vertical defense, which, upon impact, switched to a cross-like stance. "Eagle's Talons!" he shouts the name, while marching forth, pushing so she potentially loses her footing, or at least, not be too close to directly counter-attack, and throws off a strong, cross-shaped slash. This was an attack she never saw of him before; would the element of surprise work on his favor?

She was puzzled by his forward aggression - her erratic attacks took up a wide area that usually pushed her opponent backward as they struggled to protect multiple vital organs in the trajectory of her blade but he forced through them and now had a second blade?!  She had chosen not to use her other katana as she had only ever seen him use one of his own.

His forward motion slightly knocks away her balance since she had to lean into her previous powerful attack for maximum impact.  She quickly regains her footing, barely having enough time to alter her stance off to the side with her left foot leading - so he would push completely past her on the right.  Because of the earlier lapse in footing that cost only a moment in time, his blade does contact the side of her abdominal, leaving a long gash - not deadly but certainly painful.  Another lost moment and it would have cut her in half.

His sudden amplification of skill caught her off guard the most. She feels the hot blood leaving her body, streaming down her bare stomach.  She gazes up at him, feeling the first real consequence that he was truly out for her blood.  Her eyes begin to glow that unsettling shade of pale green and her consciousness is pulled further from her body and she slips more into the state of an unfeeling monster.  "Clever of you to hide such delicious skill from me - but it still is not enough." Her other blade is unsheathed in one fluid motion as the other blade settles into the oblique position, crossing in from of her.  The other blade starts high and snakes downward as she advances.  She is almost upon him as the blades cross, before she violently pulls them apart so anything caught between them will be gashed open, or cleanly cut off and everything outside will have a set of twin gashes. "Desert Guillotine!"

It felt nice to actually rely upon her beloved blades.  She had spent too much of her battle time of late in the towering figure of the wild sphinx, her anger relishing in the violence of the conflicts.  This was an elegant and beautiful art that she greatly missed - even as most as her soul had fled her body, she did appreciate a good challenge, high skills, and a beautiful death.

"Hmph." Hawks callously glances at her, no feedback or response towards her remark. Spotting her ominously approach him, and that blade movement, it was clear that it was meant to be a significantly dangerous assault; one he should avoid. Thus, just as she almost reached him and, during that time observing her movements and acts so to determine what is the best course of action, the conclusion seems surprisingly simple.

As soon as he sees her in close proximity and, her muscle flexing clearly indicating a violent swing was coming next, he just gracefully, yet quickly and with no time to waste, leaps backwards, cleverly dodging the attack altogether, rather than having to rely on a means to counter it. Well, almost dodged it, one of the blades managed to cut him; except, it wasn't a slash that drew blood but rather, a lock of his blonde hair, which dispersed and got carried away, next to him, but the warm breeze.

Not wasting a second, clearly, he was taught, or faced, situations that could end his life on the spot, to be able to react with such precision, he dives right back in after the attack was mostly complete, deeming that, in this position, she was at a momentary disadvantage; an opening he was not going to waste. "Shallow's Nest!" He marches forward, attempting to slash her right through her entire abdomen and torso area. In his mind, he assumed that this would be it, she was open now, and from this range and angle, this should incapacitate her well enough. Actually, he should be able to kill her if he was to attempt to push with all he had, in order to cleave through her.

But he couldn't really do that. In his mind, something else was whirling around wildly. *Please .. get hit. And pass out afterwards. Please.*

The wake of her attack left her blades poised at her flanks.  She recognized the movements of his eminent attack as he had just used that one very recently. She stepped back into a left stance, bringing her blades to cross and intercept the thrust in the apex where they were joined. The bone chilling noise of steel grinding against steel shattered the relative silence as the blades screeched to a locking stop. Did her really mean to be so clumsy - showing her his next move so easily?

She heard him speak but did not immediately process his words. Her eyes were filled with savegry and she opened the capturing scissored formation of blades, her out-most blade moving out laterally to knock his intercepted blade off to his side as the other arced upward before beginning a wicked decent toward his neck.  The warm breeze quickened slightly, tugging at the cut lock of hair, brushing it past her face. A familiar scent demanded attention, attempting to drag her away from her focus.  She fought it while carefully guiding the blade for what seemed like eternity as the moment drifted by in slow motion.  

Her eyes flickered with a rising conflict - a monster raging against her awakening soul. She tried to feed her anger to push forward - she swiftly turned her wrist at the last moment, bringing the hilt of the katana, rather than her blade, in line to smash against his face in a powerful and merciless blow. She was disgusted by her weakness - but she still knew the small part of her soul that still survived could not take the magician's life, no matter what he'd done to her. She kept her other blade at the ready - she would not underestimate this demon prince of magic again. This was not a battle she could afford to lose - letting this idiot march to his own death was not something she would do unless he defeated her and sincerely possessed with hate and will to end her existence.

"Ugh." He didn't foresaw such an unorthodox and, rather, merciful of a comeback. Also it should be noted that he had just failed to execute a successful strike simply because he foolishly used such an easy-to-read blow, over some less used and less predictable maneuvers. As a result, she was not slashed to the point of being incapacitated, and on top of that, she land a hit; which hurt the male's honor more than it did physically.

But, in a sense, that worked on his favor. Because she opted not to actually use a dangerous move at him, he was left mostly unscathed, which meant he could continue to press forth until accomplishing to incapacitate her; there was no time to waste. Why couldn't she just get upset at him, and leave him be? Everything would worked so much better for everyone.

"On guard!" he calls out, rather oddly politely, albeit coldly and with tension, as he begins to fire off multiple strikes, resembling continuous hurls of darts towards her path.

The corner of her mouth twisted into a sadistic smirk as her sword hilt made contact with his face in a satisfying crash. The end of the hilt possessed a custom coin with a jade inlay of the character of her name, obtained by her sister and attached by the blacksmith of her previous crew. It was amusing to see him regain his footing while carrying a temporary reddened imprint of her name on the side of his face. He had no way of knowing it was there - but it was none the less amusing. "Looks like you're mine, magician..."

She stiffened as he seemed to be displaying his characteristic politeness for some reason. Her confusion soon melted away into fury. "On... guard? On bloody guard? No. NO! You do NOT get to use the formalities of an honorable man - you have long since overstepped the boundaries of politeness - you baited me into this conflict, mercilessly, with the worst words you could find - you are a trickster and a knave so drop the act, you bloody charlatan ... Since you haven't the courage to tell me the truth, all I need you to do is ... bleed. I have no tolerance for cowards who presume to make my decisions for me. On guard, indeed ... "

She narrowed her eyes looking down for a moment to see her skin glowing a bit too goldly - the sphinx form almost taking over in her moment of fury. She forces it away as she begins to compose herself. Despite her anger, she will not resort to her power for the battle - even if it kills her. She narrows her eyes, surveying his motions to access his counter attack. A stiff breeze whipped past them tossing her hair back and stepped back into an oblique stance, rage flowing through her body and into her blades. This would not end without someone on the ground in a pool of blood.

"?!" Hawks observes her for a moment, perplexed momentarily, but her "you are mine" remark. But he didn't spent more than said moment to consider this, and moved on to execute his attack. As the barrage of sharp blows ensued, he glared at her, with an expression that would most certainly enraged her, if she was to focus enough to notice it-superiority.

"You speak too much during a confrontation .." He calmly remarks, before he sharply, suddenly, steps to the left side with his left foot; all that momentum, driven by the continuous sharp stabbing notions, suddenly swifts on the completely opposite direction, which happened to occur while his blade was extended forward. His other hand, the left one, held the sword to his side.

Then, by twisting his body, he uses the momentum swift to basically once again rotate his direction, possibly a confusing maneuver, which followed a strong slash using his left sword, a slash aiming at her abdominal area. At the same time, his right arm was raised; this time he was well prepared for a counter-attack, it would appear.

The contempt on his face cut like a knife and infuriated her at the same time. It was a look that she recognized but not by him and not directed at her. He had always seem to somewhat disapprove of her methods but at least seemed to halfway respect her. She fed upon the hurt to create pure rage. She could easily walk away from the mental and physical anguish ... but some little shard of being tugged at her to keep fighting - to not let him slip away. Some uneasy feeling made her believe that letting him walk away alone, would mean the end of his life.

The rage filed her as she readied her blades and attempted to puzzle out the trajectory of his erratic movement. Her lucid green eyes were a calm aqua green as she focused, carefully watching him, as if in slow motion, and his movements were nothing more than equation to puzzle out.

The last slash came, somewhat by surprise, she only saw it at the last moment and moved to intercept the blade, but the force of it knocked both her body and arm backwards so it laded a gash along the side of her abdomen. She gasped, here eyes showing a flicker of pain before she swallowed it, stood straight and ignored the blood rushing through her severed flesh.

The force had dragged him in very close - close enough for her knee to bash against his ribs and his face to have an encounter with her fist as it was still wrapped around the blade. Her other blade was still tangled with his blade that slashed her - she opened her stance pulling the blade outwards against his stance to get it away from her as the other blade came up, held more like a knife as she adapted her katana style to operate more like her sais with rapid and deadly thrusts rather than arcing slashes. She'd kill him herself before she'd let him go off to die.

Despite the pain and the fury, it was nice to have a challenge for once.

"..." She was going to just punch him again, instead of attempting to cleave him like he was. So far, it was all about just wanting to either make her leave, or incapacitate her just enough so she cannot meddle in with his mission. But right now, something else, dwelling deep inside his heart, the heart of a pirate, the heart of a warrior, begun to light up, causing him to develop a sensation and feeling, different from what was expected of him. Anger. Was she really going to just humiliate him again, like this?

Moving his head forward, he actually allows himself to be punched, yet again, but this time, due to the way he marched forth, the strike connected to the man's forehead. His glare to her, tension and annoyance, coupled with some level of infuriating, were obvious. "I NEED NONE OF YOUR PITY, SO FIGHT FOR REAL!!" he shouts at her, while his sword begins to move downwards at her path, an attempt to, seemingly, cleave her in half. Despite the fact that, he had just left himself completely exposed, for the first time in this fight, to the possibility of getting a clean counter coming towards him. But he didn't cared. Men dying for someone else's ambition had their own sense of honor, too.

That bloody magician kept getting inside of her strike line - there was no way to get a blade in him when he was so close so she often resorted to bashing him In the face or ribs to get him off of her.  She hate close-quarter fighters that invaded personal space.  Its like they wanted to snuggle with her fists. Subconsciously part of her was trading hits ... she would take a have gash from his sword just to get a bruising blow with her fist. He wasn't wrong that there was restraint, she just lacked the capacity to mentally acknowledge it.

Her concentration was broken as he yelled at her.  She watched him carefully, noticing something change in his eyes - it was a look she recognized - battle lust.  The heart of a true battle blossoming - the highest level of pleasure for those truly built for it.  An accidental compliment he'd let slip. This was a very distracting look on him but at least she had unlocked an adversary.  Now he was fully committed to this fight and wasn't just trying to quickly brush her away.  

"Hawks ... don't ... " She whispered as she saw him recklessly barreling toward her, seemingly carrying a lifetime of rage in a single blow - powerful, devastating, fatal .. but also reckless, sloppy and predictable - it looked like he was putting too much strength in it to alter his course easily. She swept out of the way as the last moment,opening her her blade into a wicked twin black-slice, as she rotated into the movement, carrying the momentum with her - placing the arced trajectory right in line with the side of his torso. She moved fluidly as though she had just been set free for the first time in years.

"Hey, look at these things, it's called "Optical illusion" but .. here, if you do it that way it will .. oh shit, I messed up!"
"... That is idiotic."
"Don't you just frown, Hawks! A magician should always have a pleasant smile on his face!"
"I am not a magician, father."

"Bakara-san!!!"
"Hey, Hawks ... don't you forget, magic is real, alright?"
"BAKARA-SAN!!!" Heavy crying, of a teenage boy.

*After all these years, nothing changed ... I am still a useless mess ...* The blonde reminisces, while also thinking of these words in his mind, while he looks towards the sky; sky dyed with blood gushing out. His knees, at first as if the world around them became frozen, time as if passing a thousand times more sluggish than normal, then hit the sand with force. Left with his arms extended, holding onto his blades firmly, the male remains there for some moments; moments that must have felt as eternity. *I'm sorry.* and then he fell down, motionless, face-first on the hot sand.

Jade cringed as she felt the distinctive feeling of her blade meeting flesh. She got no satisfaction from it this time.  The rage bled out of her instantly as she saw the spatters dance across the sand like robes of remorse.  "Idiot. Why did you open yourself up like ..." Something about his words and the look on his face silenced her. Her blades fell from her hands, tumbling to the sand without a sound, streaked with silver, crimson, and regret. She stood stunned - lost, unable to grasp what happened for a few long moments.

She knelt next to him, silent for moment. The pain she saw did not come from her blades. She didn't say another word - nothing she could say could undo the past or fix whatever her was thinking about.  She was angry at him for opening himself up and damn near forcing her hand to gash him this way - but it didn't matter now - his mind seemed far from his physical condition and yet the guilt tore into her deeper than a blade ever could.  

The sun was setting, casting a bizarre gold tone over the them.  Her eyes were glassy and the liquid from them appeared to be liquid gold, running down her face as materialized anger and remorse. The drops fell from her face, rolling off the side of his torso along the wound - steaming where they contacted it, stopping the bleeding and sealing the few places where it touched.  This was the only other healing agent she had - it was the most powerful but it was never used, as monsters never feel anything to trigger it.

"Who am I kidding?" He suddenly speaks, all the while with her now next to him, as he was laying down on the sand. His face twists in an odd way; was it pain? Not the kind of physical one, of course. Slowly, he extends his hand, and brushes it over her chin. "I must look really pathetic, right now..." he then adds, before he uses said hand to cover his face entirely. The action was followed by a small ripple of shaking across his body.

"Who am I kidding? At my current state, there's no way I can beat them, anyway. What was I even thinking? I'm just ... a piece of thrash ..." he laments, his voice sounding oddly rattled and deprived of his usual sturdiness. Was he ... crying?

Seeing him this way was significantly worse than any harsh words he could have ever said to her.  Her eyes were watering much worse than before, their concentrated healing powers snaking over his wound in intricate fashion, the pale gold vapor leaving mended flesh in its wake.  She closes her eyes, wincing as he touched her face, almost as if she were afraid of him. Her face was still slightly reddened from where he'd hit her earlier.  

She watches him slowly fall apart, demoralized and broken.  She gives him a moment, quietly curling up next to him, respectfully not looking at him. She had been in a similar state once - but she had been stupid, her recklessness causing everyone to be slaughtered in front of her because she mistakenly thought she was strong enough. Her pride cost her everything. After a long while, she looks up, speaking quietly, almost whispering as haunting memories tortured her every word.

"You have an incorrect view of weakness, my friend. Right now, you possess the strength I never had. I was too stupid and proud to address my own weaknesses so I could fix them.  The price was high.  You are so much stronger and smarter than I was - you can now fix what your lacking.  Whoever has done this to you, I will not rest until I have dined upon their throat. I have already lost everything. Please let me help you protect whatever it is you still have."

"You don't understand ... eh .. huff huff." The magician comments to her, and lightly smiles at her, then he lets out a coughing, with some small traces of blood in it; the wound wasn't closed completely despite the healing factor; although, they probably had enough time for that to fully heal, considering what was coming next.

"But it's alright. I suppose that I should tell you; since you defeated me, you earned the right. The story about why this crew's defeat could save an entire Kingdom." he begins to speak, looking up towards the sky, with a rather distant, lost in his thoughts, expression.



"Father, would you come play with me?" A smiley, tiny Hawks pulls on a man's trousers. The male turns towards him, and kindly smiles at him. "Oi, Hawks! We will play later, alright? Mommy is a bit sick so, let's keep it quiet. Go play with your friends, ah?" "Ah, alright! Mommy, get well soon! Hiiyaaa!!" Hawks shouts happily, and walks out, pretending to be a bird in flight. Upon his departure, the male turned his head, allowing himself to cry.

"Father, where is mommy? Why are we all dressed up as that?"

"Hawks, are you just sitting there looking at the sky again? Come, let's play some magic!" A broad smile, below a long, well-groomed mustache appears, but then, inexplicably, he is hit by someone on the back of his head, with a frying pan. "Hey, that was not a magical trick, this was a pitiful joke! I want my money back!!" "Ehehehe, someone is asking for his money back from Nemuri, huh?" "What disgrace, ahahah."

"Today Hawks, I will teach you how to make a pigeon appear off this hat. You do this, and that .. and .. whoah, what the?!" The pigeon is nowhere to be seen. "DAAAAMN! AHAHAHA, WELL, I WILL GET IT RIGHT THE NEXT TIME!" The little boy just observes him apathetically. "Father, why do you insist on this? You are ridiculous." "Aahahahaa, now now, don't give me hard love! Magic is my talent!!"

Introduction Box:
Nemuri Eagles; Hawks father

The wound she inflicted was deep and it would take time for the heeling fluid to snake its way down to that level to repair the internal damage. The blood after his coughing caught her eyes, after his caught, dancing gently on his lips - for a moment tempting her - but that wasn't where the blood came from ... and after what he'd called her, she just ... couldn't, not even if there was a deep gash there.

"We both know there is a difference between defeating someone and being allowed to win.  You are the superior swordsman - you know that.  I have become weak by relying too heavily upon my sphinx form, attempting vainly to satisfy the blood lust born in the fires of my own failure to protect the only things that mattered. My blades are rusty and my focus is lost. Why would you take a hit like that? You wouldn't just let my use my fists, damnit..."

-------

A dark figure approaches the two, silently - from a spot where there was most certainly no one just moments ago.  A bluish haze seemed to stream from the figure as he approached.  Something in the figure's hand caught Eagle's eye. He knew what the black ribbon meant and moved to intercept the figure, murmuring quietly, "Please - not in front of my boy."

From beneath the hood, cold violet eyes regarded the man apathetically as he thrust the ribbon toward Eagles. "Your child does not concern me - this is part of who you are and who you are not." Dropping the ribbon in his hands, the dark figure turns to leave.

Swallowing hard for a moment, Eagles squeezes the ribbon in his hands, crushing it. "Just answer me this -- why? If you would just give me another chance --"

When figure pauses for a moment but does not turn around as he answers. "You fail because you do no believe - if you cannot believe in what you do, why would you ask us to do so? Joining our guild will not make you believe - stop looking outside for excuses for your shortcomings and start with the mirror, Nemuri. Do not attempt to return.  We have dangerous work to do and don't have time to run a school nor a daycare for amateurs."

The edges of the ribbon started to glow, giving way to ash.  He'd show them here and now - this was his last chance. Suddenly Hawks caught his eye and the shame washed over him - all of the destruction of the ribbon reversed, leaving it in perfect condition. He had failed - again. Eagles stood there, clutching the ribbon, staring at his son with anger and sadness in his eyes.  He dropped the ribbon, crushing it under his feet just as an outline began to take shape on his hand, filling in to depict a black ribbon. He stared at the mark, wide eyed. "What the --"

"Just a precaution ... so you don't try to sneak in..." came a voice of there the cloaked figure had once stood, leaving nothing but a fading voice and dissipating blue vapor where he once stood.