BZPRPG - Kentoku Archipelago

[pokemonlover360]

IC (Dastana Tapui, Arohi School of the Mind)

 

IC Hogo Glendalla- Arohi School of the Mind:

 

Glendalla's musings were interrupted by the entrance of orange and blue Dasaka. "Hey. What's on your mind?" she asked Glendalla.

 

"It's nothing too important," she replied. "I'm just trying to get the hang of my soulsword.I can get it to manifest, but it never stays corporeal long enough for me to do anything with it. I was just doing some extra training because I'm part of the first watch tonight. Don't want to make a big fool of myself."

 

She paused, remembering that she was actually talking to someone else. "Where are my manners? I'm Hogo Glendalla, but if that's a mouthful you can feel free to call me Glen," she said, extending her hand.

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui): "Dastana Tapui" I replied, taking the hand and shaking it. "It's good to meet you, Glen. I - " I had spoken without thinking, making an introduction in my normal, friendly manner. This girl was a Hogo, the enemy of my clan. Things were different now, and I couldn't just go and...

 

Now wait just a minute! I mentally interrupted myself. This is not a person who wants to hurt me. She is a young student just like me, caught up in events too big for either of us to control. She is not evil, and she is not my enemy. Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have been having these thoughts. I would have gone straight on with the introduction, made a friend and probably even helped her with her Soulsword. Should a quarrel between some in our clans really stop me from being the kind of person who would do that? Does clan loyalty mean that I have to be rude and unkind here? I came to this school not just to learn a discipline but to make friends and good connections. Here is an opportunity to do that. I can serve my clan by making an ally, a friendship the bridges clan boundaries. If we made enough of those, maybe we wouldn't have to fight. This is what Ihi was talking about earlier. Maybe next time I should listen harder before I almost go and let stupid hostility overpower my conscience.

 

I stood up, and offered the Hogo my arm for a hand up as well. "I'm on tonight's squad as well" I told her. "Maybe I can help you with your Soulsword. I'm a Willhammer myself, but I could try to soothe away the distractions from your mind while you learn to get control. I'd we can make it work, I'd be glad to have you watching my back tonight." I would also be giving a potential enemy the ability to stab me in the back with a blade of glowing psionic energy, but I tried not to think of that. I had made my choice, and I would stick to it. "So, what do you say?" I asked, still proffering my hand to help her up.

 

OOC: Experimenting with the first person. I'm not sure I'll stick with it, but it's quite fun for now.

Edited September 6, 2014 by The Lorax

[pokemonlover360]

IC Hogo Glendalla:

 

Glendalla took the hand and pulled herself to a standing position.

 

She hesitated while introducing herself, she thought. No doubt because she's a Dastana. She's still willing to help me though.I should probably reassure her before we work together.

 

"I would very much appreciate your help," she said to Tapui. "Before we start though, I wanted to make sure that you know what I think of all the political issues going on.

 

"Let me first say that you are not my enemy. We don't have to fight each other and be tense just because our clans are on opposite sides of a conflict. As Toroshu Ihi emphasized, we are the future of Dasaka society, and we don't have to participate in this conflict. Now, I may be a Hogo, and my clan may be fighting with yours at the moment, but that isn't what being a Hogo is about. A Hogo's duty is to protect and serve the Rora. We're not some personal army of the Umbralines, we're the protectors of the royal family. Thus, there's no reason for me to be your enemy unless you attack the royal family, and I trust you not to do that."

 

Classic Glendalla, directly stabbing the underlying issue in the face with the subtlety of a guillotine, she thought to herself.

 

"I'm ready to begin when you are," she said.

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui): Oh, thank Zuto Nui! She gets it. I'm not the only one who doesn't want to put up with all this divisive political rubbish, and I'm not going to get stabbed in the back. Thank you Zuto Nui!

 

"I'm so glad to hear that" I tell her. "Your Rora is safe from me, and if you can be friends with a Dastana, then I can be friends with a Hogo. Maybe all of this will blow over and we'll be fine. Then, all of the others will look silly for distrusting each other so much over something so small".

Even as I say it though, I find it hard to believe. Clans tensions do rise every so often, but this time is different. The Rora is dead, there is open bloodshed in the streets, more and more clans are taking sides, and somewhere out there, the Chaotic Six still roam. The last major clan war had happened before I was born, but all the signs were pointing to another. I can only hope any pray that I am wrong, and that somehow peace can be achieved. Zuto Nui preserve us.

 

"Okay" I breathe, calming myself and extending my mind out towards Glen's. Before we can get onto anything too complex, we will have got get a feel for each other on the mental plane. This will go beyond simple ideatalk, with each of us broadcasting thoughts onto the mental plane for others to pick up as they wish. I will be actually getting inside her mind, and able to see her thoughts as they form and, hopefully, direct them. I moved slowly, tentatively, ready to recoil if I went too far and invaded too far into the privacy of her head. In spite of the promises of friendship we had just exchanged, we had barely met. I wasn't going to penetrate any further than what she was comfortable with.

[Friar Tuck]

His Magistrate, Judicature of the Peace, Queen's Arm of Justice,

His Royal Seeker of the Truth, may he forever bring honor through just punishment.

Protector and Brother of the Rora, her Imperial Majesty,

Presenting the Imperial Executioner, Menti Battlemaster of Clan Umbraline,

Rayuke.

 

(traditional arrival announcement spoken by crier during official and ceremonial gatherings)

 

IC

 

Music floated softly through the air, played by the lithe fingers of a talented musician upon plush seating. An open window allowed the fresh sea breeze to waft in, circulating around the room as it did, and as it was whisked away it took the sounds with it, the notes dissipating across the glittering skyline. The room was a heavily decorated and ordained masterpiece, sitting near the atop of the Imperial Residences, a glittering jewel in its own right. Art of all kinds adorned its walls, of paintings and sculptures and priceless artifacts. Shelves upon shelves of books lined what remained of the walls, literature masterpeices of bygone eras of endless enjoyment and continuous revelation. The furniture was surprisingly sparse, but what was there was of finest quality, prefect for repose and quiet reflection. Most of the remaining space was either reserved for workspaces or presentation podiums for various other words of art, particularly crystal sculptures, bonsai plants, and a surprising amount of origami animals. Clearly this was the room of a great artist, of a great companion of the arts.

 

And in the center of it all stood one massive Dasaka.

 

He stood over a small pedestal, eyes closed, looking as if lost in the music. He was extremely large, clearly more than a half-head taller than the tallest of Dasaka and bulky with muscle. His broad shoulders, rounded a little by the stress of too many years, were nevertheless imposing to behold; his hands, strong and rough by years of manual labor, seemed have a certain gentleness to them has they moved about the bonzai before them; his face, routinely stern-set, too rarely imparts the gift of its smile onto the world, seemed at the moment, in peace. Despite his size he looked very much at ease in his own body, and all who looked at him recognize in his relaxed stance and peak physicality the body of a warrior who has interestingly not devoted reckonable time to the ways of the elite. There was something about his quiet, powerful presence that had the effect of quieting those around him, easing tense situations wherever he may be. And this figure was arguably the most recognizable Dasaka in the entire Empire.

 

Rayuke, the Imperial Executioner.

 

Most would not think such a living abode would fit his vocation, but those that knew him well understood the apparent contradiction. This was his private space anyway, his secret abode, a place to get away from the pressures and nuances on his stature. 

 

Rarely however, was that the case.

 

A barely audible knock could be heard over the soft music, a few moments later the head of a sevant poked her head cautiously in. "Your Magistrate? Your presence is required."

 

There was no sound from the living statue, no acknowledgement of her presence. Understandably she looked a little skittish.

 

"Your Magistrate?"

 

She sounded a bit worried now, yet the music carried on as if nothing was amiss, the only movements were that of the musician's fingers and the barely perceptible meanderings of the massive hand bearing a far-to-small-for-its-size pruning scissors.

 

"Master Rayuke?"

 

*snip*

 

There was a long exhale of breath as the living statue moved, opening his eyes to survey his work. Gently he padded the miniature tree, observing the slow changes to the plant under his patriarchal care and pleased with the result... but not the interruption.

 

"Yes?"

 

His voice was low and deep, like a distant rumbling of thunder of the waves crashing on a faraway shore. It rolled and echoed even in this perfectly acoustic room, yet was somehow pleasant on the ears. The female took a half-step in and cleared her throat.

 

"They are expecting you, Your Magistrate."

 

"Tell them I am on my way." With a simple wave he gestured her away, gingerly placing the scissors next to the plant. Without turning towards the musician he spoke quietly.

 

"Thank you for your services."

 

Picking up her instrument she bowed and left without a word, that simple acknowledgement worth more than a year's wages. It was only after she left did he let out a long sigh, the sound of air escaping from lungs almost three times larger than the average male's. With slow, deliberate steps he strode to his dresser, pulling out but one article of clothing: a purple robe, trimmed in yellow, adorned with glittering crystals and precious gems. A sign of his stature and member of the Umbralines, it was something to marvel at, yet he wore it only out of duty of his position. As he did everything. It was his Honor to serve, his Power that had kept the Peace, creating Order amongst the clans.

 

That was, until the assassination of his sister, the late Rora Yusanora.

 

With a solid click he clasped the robe around his neck, looking at himself in the perfectly-polished mirror. As he gazed upon himself his eyes narrowed, his mind wandering...

 

*   *   *

 

I am Rayuke of Clan Umbraline. Battlemaster. Imerial Executioner.

 

I come from a large family; one brother, one sister, and myself, I being the youngest. At an early age I was marked as gifted, showing early signs of the Willhammer discipline as is per my clan. I even hinted at Mindarm, a double-disciple prodigy. But I had a flaw, something buried deep within me: anger. I was an emotional child, the youngest out three, and prone to random and extreme bursts of anger. The only one who could keep me in line was my older sister Yusanora, a kind and gentle soul, of which whom I loved. With her I felt at peace, able to keep my unruly emotions in check.

 

But then one day in my youth at a party, a Dasaka noblewoman insulted the honor and stature of Yusanora, the First Daughter and Chojo to the Empire. The insult proved too much, too cutting, too callous to go unanswered. Not only had she insulted my sister, my beautiful, sweet, upright sister, but my family and myself as well. So in a fit of rage and righteous vengeance I did what needed to be done: I killed the noblewoman. Indeed, such ill-thought action would have most likely resulted in the same outcome time, but the fact that I had done so in my own accord and in anger was a slight to myself and a shame to my honor. All was not lost however, as my anger was at least justified, though my actions were not. So the Umbraline matriarch, my mother, saw fit to send me to work with the Dashi as punishment for my actions, where she hoped I might learn to cool my temper. The next day I said goodbye to my siblings and was stripped of all rank and honor.

 

It was the greatest thing to have happened to me. I went away a boy - and came back a man.

 

While there I was taught to be a Soulsword miner, channeling my raw psionic and emotional energies into more useful and productive ventures. I learned what it meant to do hard work, what it meant to have a job well done. I had become handy with a chisel, the hammer, the pick, and the shovel, all essential tools of the trade for miners. I learned to enjoy the simple pleasure in life, and what the common Dashi had, but lived for: honest work. It was in these years of repetition and physical labor that I not only became so very strong physically, but learned to find peace within myself, banishing the rage that had for so long consumed me. With it came a quiet spirit, a love for all things beautiful and simple, much like the people I now call friends and even to some extent family. But all things must come to an end.

 

Many years passed, and one day I received word that had became the First Son of Clan Umbraline by proxy upon the death of next-eldest male, my brother and within a day I was ushered back home to Sado to assume the new duties. My return, however, was not greeting with happiness by all. There were still family of the noblewoman I had killed who had a grudge against me, and sought to prove that despite my time and distance away I was still unworthy to assume the required duties. Therefore, by tradition, I was tested. I stood before my accusers as they attempted to stir up feelings of anger within me, to force a show of emotion. To see an outburst of power that was so often the failing of my gender.

 

I did not give it to them.

 

Undeterred, they insulted me and my honor, hoping to reveal that anger I had been so well known for.

 

They received none of it.

 

Riled, they once again insulted my family.

 

I gave them no satisfaction.

 

Losing the situation they unleashed everything they had, even once again visiting those slights upon my sister, in an attempt to get me to budge. To snarl. To show any outward displays of anger or emotion. It was hard and difficult, but I stood like the crystal statues in the great halls. They gave me no quarter, but all I did was stand there quietly, eyes focused on the floor in a reserved, humble stance.

 

I had learned my lessons well.

 

I did not falter as a spoke quietly, refuting each and every point they did bring against me.

 

Their ammunition exhausted, they gave up the assault, retreating quietly back to their seats. Upon this display of control my return was celebrated return, the rest of my clan marveling at my levelheadedness, and the Rora, who was now my sister, presented me with the greatest of all appointments: the duty of Imperial Executioner, Dispenser of Justice, Keeper of the Peace, and Protector of the Realms.

 

As honorable as it was, however, it was a position I did not want.

 

I had changed my ways, being one with the people. I had forsaken violence in favor of hard work, in beauty and art instead of destruction. In the end it was my very sister of whom I still loved who convinced me take it, for the very reasons I was rejecting it. In being humble, I would not view one people as better than another. In nonviolence I would seek peaceful solutions; in control I would not rush to punishment; in the art I would seek the beauty and honesty in those accused; and in my levelheadedness I would be fair. She convinced me, and with it I accepted because it was his duty not only to now my people, but to her as well as a trusted confidant and bodyguard. I was given the sword, I was given the mask, and to this day not one can bring any slight to my name.

 

I am Rayuke of Clan Umbraline. Battlemaster. Imerial Executioner.

 

Now I am needed.

 

*   *   *

 

With a flourish he turned, his cape swishing in the breeze, his long strides looking like slow motion as he strode across the room. The time for deliberations were over. Much had happened, and many crimes needing answered for it.

 

It was time to start restoring Order to the Empire.

 

Rayuke was coming. May dishonor beware.

Edited September 6, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[pokemonlover360]

IC Hogo Glendalla:

 

Glendalla calmed her breathing as Tapui did, trying her best to synchronize with her. She wasn't a willhammer and had no idea whether or not that actually helped, but she wanted to do what she can to help someone she had just met enter her head.

 

Why does it sound so weird when I think of it like that? she thought

 

*****

 

It turns out that the mental plane seems like the interior of my head. Given that I'm in my own head, I'm not fully surprised, but still, you'd think there'd be some sort of visual difference. I always hear about how each willhammer has their own representation when they enter someone's mind, like an element or animal. Lucky them. Speaking of, that nudging I feel must be Tapui. I'm no expert, but she seems cautious. Makes sense, we have just met. I'll just have to break the ice a little, try to sum myself up for her.

 

I reach out to her mind and do my best to try to lead it in the right direction. It feels like she might be following me, but I don't even know if moving around on the mental plane is actually a thing.

 

"...Following his defeat of a demon infiltrator in the protection of his liege's daughter and holy treasures, he was given the name of Hogo-sha by the warrior queen, as well as the duty of protecting the authority of the imperial family."

 

I've spent my entire life hearing that tale, along with stories of my clan's exploits throughout history. How we're the guardians of the imperial family and its treasures. I admit that I may have bought into it a bit much.

 

"When I grow up, I'll be the best royal guard there is! Nothing will get past me, and everything will be peaceful in the empire."

 

Zuto Nui, child me, you're going to embarrass me in front of my new mental friend. Besides, we both know what happens when you say things like that as a kid.

 

"The best royal guard? Hah, more like a generic mook!"

 

"Everything's already peaceful. Why would they employ somebody with such a big head?"

 

"I'm sure the royal family could make use of your skills. For custodial work that is!"

 

Every time someone made fun of me as a kid, I'd always run as far as I could and mope. Maybe they were right. Maybe I couldn't do it. I mean, almost all Hogo were guards. I'd be competing for a job opening with my entire clan.

 

"How am I supposed to have honor for my clan if I'm just going to do what everyone else does? I'm supposed to respect my social position, but how can I stand out? I don't know how compatible with these virtues I can be."

 

"Glen, what is the virtue of power?"

 

"Strive to be better than you are, stronger than you are."

 

"And also to strive to improve yourself and your clan. Power isn't about being the strongest or the best, it's the desire to improve and the determination to keep trying to get better. No matter what you set your mind on, you need to work hard to get better at it. Even if you choose a discipline that isn't what the rest of your family has chosen, it doesn't make you any worse than us. It simply means that you have to keep at it."

 

"Whenever I try to be humble and only talk about my clan, everybody laughs and makes fun of me. I just don't understand."

 

Glen, if you want to honor Clan Hogo, you need to earn that honor by doing what only you can do: being the best you can be. Even if you feel alone while at school, your family is behind you. And to prove it, take these."

 

"Crystal swords? But-"

 

I know you've wanted to be a soulsword for a while. These blades may not have the same flash, but even if your mind isn't enough to stand up to challenges, you'll have your clan by your side."

 

"... Thanks, mother. I promise you, I'll go to the academy, and I'll become the best menti you've ever seen, no matter how long it takes. Just you wait."

 

My mother always was filling my head with encouragement. I can only hope that I'll be able to keep that promise. Now I just need my own sword to listen to me.

 

"Tapui, how's the connection?" I say.. I mean, think to her. Hopefully my trip down memory lane hasn't put her to sleep. I'm feeling pretty confident about this though. Maybe it just feels nice to share with someone. Oh wait, am I being too forceful? Too late to fix it now, I guess.

[Relapse]

IC: (Kyoshi Ryouja)

 

The floorboard knocked her off guard and off balance, but also spurred her to evasive action. Her feet kicked off the ground, throwing her lithe form into a back flip. As soon as she hit the ground, she once again became a navy blur, disappearing from view and seemingly from the battlefield. In reality, she was standing still about ten feet from Higashi- not that the guard knew that. From here she began throwing images into Higashi's head- every horrifying, surreal concept she could muster. And worse, Higashi could see these things. Feel them. To her left, the wall imploded, the corpse of an Imperial flying through it. landing at Higashi's feet, dead eyes staring into hers. A few seconds flaming arrow came from the window, landing on the ground and setting the room aflame. Outside, the sounds of vicious rebels brutally tearing apart Umbraline menti to pieces seemed to enter her ears at increasing volume. These horrors, even if she recognized them as illusionary, were incredibly unsettling.

[Void Emissary]

IC:

 

"Herupa Jiyu's younger sister just left this morning..." Harume mused, biting her lip, "So that leaves... His twin sister. Who works for the Vilda. You two care to say hi to them?"

 

IC:

 

Zyla bit her lip. She hadn't anticipated being away from the office for so long. Particularly not after having just seen Daijuno off on the expedition, leaving her as the sole book-keeper of the business. She guessed that Mora might have been able to hold down the fort for a little while, but between keeping house and pummelling intruders, Zyla wasn't confident of her ability to run a business as well.

 

Still.... The idea of a murderer on the loose didn't appeal to her any more than that did.

 

It goes against Order, she thought, ignoring the memory of Juno ranting against the Three Virtues, and isn't it my duty to help in the upholding of Order?

 

"Sounds like a plan," Zyla said, before adding, "I, uh, I just have to drop by the office, first...."

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Higashi

 

"Yaknow," said Higashi blandly, looking into the eyes of the dead illusion. "If ya weren't trying to kill me, I'd take such a blatant entrance into my mind as one of your fetishes."

 

Her mind was clouded, but she could fix that. By her side, the floating soulsword fist glowed bright as she pushed the foreign energies out of her, the illusions dissipating as her own powers met and countered Ryouja's at every point. She may not have been a Willhammer, but she was definitely capable of fighting them.

 

Higashi could see her opponent now. Standing there. Why did the other Menti even give her some breathing room, anyway? It didn't matter, because in a flash, she had reached for the final bottle that lay within the room. She had no match, nor would she even try throwing it in such a confined space when it was alight. After all, she wasn't going to kill herself.

 

Instead, she chucked the oil bottle towards Ryouja without lighting it at all. It shattered mid-air from a quick Soulsword punch, splattering her opponent with the liquid.

 

"That stuff's a great lubricator, by the way."

 

And with that, Higashi slammed her foot against the floor, breaking it apart and dropping her onto the first floor in a storm of rubble. She had a plan in mind.

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

"Do what you need to do," Harume said with a nod, "besides, you have no real obligation to stay around any longer..."

[Relapse]

IC: (Kyoshi Ryouja)

 

As she had just reentered the physical plane, Ryouja had little time to react to the liquid coming at her. Fortunately for her, she did well with little time. She could not hope to dodge the attack- concentration was difficult when one had just returned from a mental sabbatical. And so she reacted with what she knew she could do, throwing her head back even as one hand zipped her jacket up so quickly it would hardly register to the naked eye. The contents of the bottle coated only her jacket now, which she fully intended to use to her own advantage. For now, however, she could not risk going in after Higashi, for to do so would be to take an unnecessary risk. She simply speed off to the rooftop once more to gain a vantage point.

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui): Glen seems to be warming to the contact, so I press up against her mind a little more firmly. I'll be able to start seeing some of her thoughts now, and give back with some of my own. I try to project feelings of calm and safety, and in return I see that she is thinking...

 

Wait, what? I had only been brushing against the surface of Glen's mind, or at least I'd been trying to. Somehow out of that I'd dredged up childhood memories. Perhaps I had been overestimating my prowess as a Willhammer. One big slice of humble pie coming up, with a side of extra work in classes this week. If I could enter someone's mind and miss the mark by that much, then I probably wouldn't be much help in the delicate process of physically manifesting one's will.

 

No, wait again. That isn't it. I really am seeing surface thoughts. Glen is showing theses memories to me, as a kind of introduction. They say you don't really understand someone until you've walked a kio in their shoes, and it looks like I've just done that with Glen, completely unexpectedly. When we're in such close contact, mind-to-mind, I can't help but feel some of the things she feels, and empathise with her struggles. I'm experiencing these things just as she did and interpreting them through the lens of her worldview. Wow. It's truly quite an intimate experience.

 

I wonder how much of my own mind is slipping back the other way through our connection. Technically, this interaction is taking place inside her head, but if I can mistake deep and formative memories with an attempt at communication, then my control probably isn't perfect. Who knows what thoughts and feelings Glen might be getting back from my end.

 

I focus on the calmness I am projecting for her, and add in a bit of pride and courage, the kind that comes from the promise she had made. I hope that remembering that can be a source of strength for her. I keep it going for long seconds of our mental contact, just adjusting to being in her mind, hearing her thoughts and having them meshed with mine. They flow over me like a fast-moving stream, but the longer I stay and listen, the more I hear of them and the more comfortable I become.

 

The connection's fine, Glen I tell her. You're doing well. Now, let's try that Soulsword again.

 

I submerge myself back into the stream of her thoughts, watching each one as it bubbled towards the surface. There are so many that I can't focus on them all, but I can sense the general directions that they take. A lot of them seem to point in the right direction, while others seem irrelevant, but harmless. Then there are the negative, harmful impulses, the distractions and the doubts.

 

These, I push back down, submerging them in the current and letting them be washed away. They are replaced with the calm strength that I hope would make for a good Soulsword. I'm not sure if I'm right about that, having never made one myself, but It's the best I can do. Glen knows these things, so she has to guide the process. I'm just here to smooth out the distractions.

[25K Now!]

IC: Higashi

 

Her opponent didn't pursue. On the first floor of the building, surrounded by wood and rubble, Higashi smiled. It looked like the rebel was a smart one. Especially with soaking the cloth in the substance she'd chucked. That'd messed up her plans a bit ... but ...

 

How would the other Menti use the flammable substance, she wondered? And how could she counter it?

[pokemonlover360]

IC Glendalla:

 

Once again, I focus my will. Outside the mental plane, I can feel my breathing slowing and calming. In my mind I take the memories I showed Tapui and push them into the energy forming in front of me. They are what makes me who I am, what sets me apart from others. They are the building blocks of my mind, the glue that holds me together. They are me and I am the sword. I can hear the chirping of birds in my mind's ear, but a calming presence suppresses the noise, as if punching those noisy birds in the face. Elsewhere, the sound of chatting students is silenced, a friendly hand shoving them aside.

 

The mental energy in front of me is ready. All that is left is for me to grasp it.

 

I extend my mental hand towards the mental bundle, feeling the power flowing within. My mental hand brushes past memories, feelings, dreams, searching for the best place to grab. It grabs onto the promise I made to my mother, to become the best menti I could be. I draw my hand back, and the mental energy comes with it, swirling around the focal point of that promise, collecting itself into a shapeI know, the shape of my katana.

 

In the physical world, Glendalla's soulsword flared to life in her outstretched hand, rapidly taking a solid shape, its emerald glow illuminating the training room.

 

So far, everything is going like a dream. I have my soulsword out, no distractions ahead, thanks to Tapui, and this time, I think I've got a good handle on how to manifest it successfully. Maybe not outside of controlled conditions, but still, improvement.

 

I move to swing my mental sword, assuming my physical self will follow. Basic diagonal swing at where I know the training dummy is.

 

The mental blade doesn't move with me. I try again, but the sword doesn't move. I try to examine it, but it breaks out of my grip, only to hover just out of reach.I'm not sure how it can even do that on the mental plane, but I have no knowledge on the nuances of mental plane physics, so that's what it's doing from my point of view. This sword of my subconscious points its blade at a target threateningly. At first, I think it might be pointing at me, which would seem odd, but then I notice it's pointing at the only other force in the mental plane with me.

 

It's pointing at Tapui's mind.

 

"Don't do this," I think, trying to convince my subconscious to stop. "She's helping us, she's not some invading willhammer trying to do something bad." I move to stand between it and Tapui, but it starts to move towards us.

 

"I think my subconscious is getting overly deffensive," I try to communicate to Tapui. "It thinks you're trying to manipulate me. We should stop the connection before it tries to hurt you or something." I'm sure a trained willhammer would have little to worry about, but Tapui's a student like me. I don't know what being stabbed by my subconscious would do to her. The sword starts to approach faster, and I start trying to actively push Tapui out of my mind. The blade is close now. I reach out my hand to try to stop it, block it, anything. It impales my hand and keeps going. I hold back tears and try as hard as I can to separate our minds, even as the blade reaches my body...

 

*****

 

On the physical plane, Glendalla clutched her hand over her torso where the mental blade had struck. Her breathing was ragged, coming in short gasps. Residual sparks of soulsword energy fell on the floor in front of her, the blade having dissipated. Trying to take her mind off the pain, she turned to check up on Tapui. "Are you all right?" she asked between breaths.

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui): There it is! Glen's soulsword has formed, it's clear, strong and glowing with power. We did it! Well, actually she did it, but really, with me sharing her mind as she does it, it feels like a team effort. I'm so proud of us. We've really achieved something here. Now, I just have to keep up my part, and we can give this thing a test-drive.

 

Glen goes to swing the blade, and then suddenly her mind turns against me. The gentle stream of thoughts that we had been shaping into that beautiful weapon explodes into a raging torrent, dragging me under and crushing the breath out of me. I try to pull back, to surface and escape the angry floodwaters, but I can't. It's holding me down and drowning me. I can hear Glen screaming at me to pull back, to get out of her mind and save myself. It's out of her control and running wild.

 

I panic, flailing around in the dark waters. I'm trapped here, and I can't get out. Her mind clamps down around me like a vice. I thrash around, but it's useless. That blade is coming for me, and I've no idea what it might do if it makes contact on the mental plane. Glen doesn't know either, and she's not making things any easier. Her stress is just adding to the destructive flow that's drowning my mind. Somehow, I have o regain control of that blade and stop it before it slices through both of us.

 

I try to bring my thoughts under control, wrapping them tightly around the core of myself and try to find some kind of focal point to balance myself out down here. Just throwing myself out into the rapids won't do anything, and I'll only be dashed against the rocks. I have to remain clam and strong, controlled. That's the only way out of this.

 

I can't do it though. The waves of panic are building up inside me, and I can't breathe. I'm terrified, trapped and uncertain, and those unruly emotions thwart my attempts at a tight, unified ball of consciousness. They explode out, catch the current like huge sails and I'm tumbling over and over myself again. The darkness is closing in around me, lit only by that infinitely sharp blade that's moving towards my throat.

 

So I let it all go. I pour out my terror into the waters around me. All that panic, helplessness, fear and confusion, I gather it up and shove it outwards into the nightmare place that I'm struggling to remember is Glen's mind. They bloom outwards and catch the waters like huge wings, and suddenly I'm rushing along faster than ever. It's crazy, but I keep dumping out all of my anxiety, and the wings grow and grow.

 

They catch on something. I don't know what but I don't care. They catch and hold, and then somehow I'm damming the river. It's all pressing into me but I hold strong against it. The blade is there but it's slowing, waving. Even run wild, it is a tool of order and focus. I'm the opposite of that. I fell like my dam is about to burst, but I throw one last wave of emotion at it, and everything collapses. The blade frays and winks out, the water above me lifts, my wings of terror drop away and I'm rising back to myself. The mental plane shifts away and I open my eyes, fully back in my own body. I'm on the ground. limbs spread around me in a contorted mess, but I'm okay. I'm awake and alive and myself. I'm awake and alive and myself. I have to repeat that to myself a few times, just to recover from all the turmoil. Eventually, my breathing calms and I can sit up and look for Glen.

 

She's still standing, and seems okay. Clutching her chest, but who wouldn't be after what had just happened. That was scary. She asks if I'm alright.

"Yeah" I stammer. "I'm not hurt, not physically. I'm just..." 

 

What am I actually? A bit shaken, yes, but the terrified panic of a few moments ago has left me. I'd pushed it all out in the effort to dissipate Geln's soulsword. Pushed it out into her mind. No! Had I really done that to her? Subjected her to all my feelings so that I wouldn't break under the weight of them? Or did I just push them against her subconscious defense mechanism? She hadn't been in control of that part of her mind. I'd seen her trying to fight against it before I was dragged under and we lost contact. I didn't know, but either way, it was a wonder she wasn't on the floor as well.

 

"I'm okay, just shaken" I told her. "What about you?"

[pokemonlover360]

IC Glendalla:

 

"I'm okay, just shaken" she told Glendalla. "What about you?"

 

Glendalla had some doubts that someone who had gone from standing up to controted on the ground could be 'just shaken', but she pushed it aside. The residual pain in her chest from the mental stabbing was also starting to subside. She gave a long sigh and dropped to her knees. She too was surprised that she could have remained standing for so long, but most of it was due to her legs feeling more like lead than normal tissue after the experience.

 

As to Tapui's question, she wasn't sure how to respond. She decided that it would be best not to mention the experience of being stabbed by your own subconscious, since Tapui had almost certainly suffered plenty in her own way. As her mind cleared enough for her to answer, she paused right as she opened her mouth, a voice within her mind screaming words of pessimism and doubt about whether Tapui would still be her friend after this. The pause was short though.

 

"I'll admit, my brain is taking its sweet time getting back in gear," she replied. "Some minor limb throbbing, not enough to keep me from being on the watch tonight." She spoke again before Tapui could start feeling any blame. "It's not your fault. We probably just went a bit further than students should go when it comes to entering our minds. I guess some part of my brain isn't quite ready for a full-blown soulsword yet. On the plus side, what we had going definitely felt like the right way to go, so using those feelings should let me do even better the next time I try manifesting my blade. So, minor success." She looked over Tapui again. "Are you absolutely sure you're alright? You are sprawled on the floor, it's possible you hit your head when you collapsed. We both need to still be ready for tonight."

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Solemnly and steadily I walked the crystal halls of the Imperial Palace, allowing myself a moment to appreciate it's beauty. It had taken the finest crafters of antiquity hundreds of years to sculpt this massive city out of raw materials, and it took another army of skilled individuals to keep it looking pristine. Yet beneath the glittering shimmer metaphorical cracks were appearing, from the very top to the foundation as this latest round of vigilante violence and rioting cascaded across the Empire. History would show such unrest came about almost every generation, at best every other, but this one felt different. 

 

It was tarnishing the glitter I saw around me.

 

As tall and large as I was, to everyone around me my stride looked like I moved in slow motion even though to me I was moving my normal pace. If you were close enough one could feel the slight thump of my footsteps as I approached, the aura of presence I had around me heralding my coming arrival. I was a juggernaut in every aspect of the word, subtly never my strong suit. Nor should it be. It was my Honor to carry out the duties and functions of Imperial Executioner, to which there was little secrets about it. I sought out truth amongst the illusions and meted out justice the dishonorable.

 

As I walked I could hear the thoughts of those around me, in fact of many of those within the city itself. It was a continuous droning undertone in the Mental Plane, but I was used to it. But what I had noticed in recent days was the shift of the thoughts, a shift to cautiousness, to hostility, to fear. We were quickly running headlong into a civil war, blows already exchanged between the Umbralines and Dastanas. The Fursics were wisely staying out of it, though I wonder how long that would last. They were a shifty bunch and I never much liked nor trusted them, and I could not help but shake the feeling that the had a hand in this. This was not out of any hard evidence other tangible reasons, just gut feeling and experience; both of which I had plenty of. Still, I had other problems to worry about.

 

Such as stemming this tide of violence.

 

I could see that a part of the issue was my slow deliberations, the weighing of the evidence over the death of my sister. It had been... difficult, but so far I had managed to keep my feeling out of it. Still, that did cause me to take longer than usual, and due to that many decided to take matters into their own hands rather than waiting for me to reveal my findings.

 

The time had come for me to go on the offensive.

 

Upon reaching the divide that separated the personal living spaces from the more public area of the palace, I was promptly greeted by my personal guard.

 

Silently I "humphed" in response.

 

With the recent attempts on both my own and my niece's lives, so shortly after the death of the previous Rora, the security details for the Royal Family had doubled. No matter where I went now I had an entourage trailing behind me, which honestly was more of a hindrance to my work than a boon. But I did not make the rules; I only enforced them.

 

Silently they formed before me, awaiting my pleasure. All of them Menti Warriors, the best the Yards could provide, my bodyguards and assistants. As much as I despised the concept of their presence, I had come to appreciate them as individuals, as well as their skills and abilities. Gazing at the formation before me, hands still clasped behind my back, I finally spoke.

 

"Fetch me... a coach," my deep, rumbling voice said, echoing down the crystal halls. "I need to... pay a visit to Jasik."

 

I narrowed my eyes. It was time to unearth the truth.

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui): "I'm sure" I decide. "I'll be fine for the patrol." I don't actually remember falling, but my head feels alright. Physically, I mean. Thank Zuto Nui for the soft mats on these training room floors. And Glen is right, we've still got tonight to worry about. This has already been a big day in so many ways, and it isn't even over yet. Clan tensions, divided loyalties, learning that I might be fighting for my life soon, a super-speed duel, making a new friend in Clan Hogo and then experimenting with disciplines and getting in way over my head. Didn't my life used to be simple?

 

"We should go and get ready" I sigh. "There'll be time for a meal and a shower before we have to meet up with Ihi and the others. I think both of us could use some time to rest up after that. Anyway, I'll see you later."

[pokemonlover360]

IC Glendalla:

 

"Cool. I'll see you then." As Glendalla left the training room, she considered what Tapui had said. It probably was a good idea to take a break and get some rest, as well as some food. Rest was especially important since it was a night watch.

 

 In that case, she thought, best to do a quick shower, grab some food, then a brief nap.

 

Showering and eating were completed without incident, though Glendalla noticed hints of unease within her fellow students as she passed them. She didn't know what clans they were members of, but the current conflict was giving everyone reason to worry. Maybe it'll be over quickly, she hoped, but there were doubts in her mind.

 

She soon returned to her quarters. It was sparsely decorated, a bed, chair, and desk being the primary furnishings. Her class notes were on top of the desk, along with some writings about soulswords and Hogo legends. She sighed and sat on her bed, thinking about what she'd been through today. "At least I made a friend," she said to herself. While her mind was exhausted, there was still one thing that she wanted to try before taking her nap. Her work with Tapui had failed, yes, but the mindset they she had reached was definitely what she needed to use to manifest her soulsword.

 

She extended her hand, reaching out to those past memories, feeling the determination and strength in her words and promises. She combined her thoughts together and forced them into her outstretched hand. As she gave the thought to ignite her sword, a sudden rush of fear appeared her mind. Fear, confusion, anxiety, all flowed into her head, a moat between her mind and her blade. She gasped as the energy she had collected discharged, sparks of soulsword energy scattering out of her hand. After it was over she clutched her hand to try to stem off the pain coursing through it. She was sure the pain would go away, but what concerned her was the negative feelings that had ruined her attempt. All feelings had a voice within her mind, but the voice that accompanied the fear and anxiety didn't sound like hers. Best to sleep on it, she thought as she began to nap. I'm sure I'll figure it out with time.

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

She was still in bed.

 

When was she ever this lazy?

 

Amaki didn't know anymore.

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui): I didn't sleep. I bathed, I ate, cleaned my weapon and checked that it was still in good condition (it was), and even read over the latest mental entry techniques I had been assigned. When it came down to it though, and I lay back in my comfy chair, that was all the rest I could get. I was too restless, too awake and thinking way too much about all of the ways that this could go wrong. Sure, I would be patrolling with Glen, who I could trust, and Toroshu Ihi herself, a battlemaster of three disciplines, and it wasn't likely that the school would be attacked tonight. As much as I repeated those facts to myself, however, I couldn't get much rest. Gut anxiety just doesn't listen to reason sometimes.

 

Then, before I knew it, my time was up and I had to go. I grabbed by yellow sash (clan colours) and headed out the door.

When I arrived, the classroom was brightly lit, despite the darkening twilight outside. Already standing around inside were a group of students, most of them older than me. When I say group, of course, they really weren't a group. They were scattered around the room in pairs at most, and most definitely not talking to each other. An Umbraline stood near the teacher's desk, quietly twirling her blade. Scattered about before her were various Dasaka that I knew at least by sight, and all wearing their clan colours proudly. There was a Fursic, a Plangori, an Herupa and a mindarm clanswoman of mine, Ruke.

 

Finally, not far from the door, I saw Glendalla standing a little awkwardly, and went to stand beside her. "Hey" I whispered. "Ready to guard the school?"

Edited September 26, 2014 by The Lorax

[pokemonlover360]

IC Glendalla:

 

Glendalla had not slept well. Her brief moment of rest had been filled with clashing thoughts and worry. This time her thoughts were conflicted about the guard duty she was about to partake in. When she arrived at the classroom, the sight of clear clan boundaries in what was to be her comrades in arms did nothing to allay her worries. Fortunately, Tapui soon arrived to give her a respite from standing awkwardly by herself. She had few friends within the school as is, and not even a Hogo to at least relate to.

 

Glendalla glanced down to ensure her katana and wakizashi were still sheathed at her waist before responding to Tapui. "I'm about as ready as I can be, but I still have some doubts," she admitted. "I trust you and me to heed the toroshu's words and work together in spite of our backgrounds, but I don't know any of the ones here. Even though there probably won't be an attack, I can't let myself rely on that feeling. One of the primary guidelines in being a Hogo guard is, 'Being complacent never helped anybody guard anything successfully ever.' None of us want an attack, but we have to be ready in case it does." Realizing that she had given a bit longer answer than Tapui's question actually required, she quickly added, "How about you?"

[The Lorax]

IC (Tapui / Ihi): "Yeah, that" I gulped. "I'm ready to fight, but I hope we won't have to".

 

The clock struck nine, and Toroshu Ihi blew into the room. She was dressed in full battle gear She bore her sword on her hip, and a grim expression on her pakari.

"Students" she addressed them. "First of all, thankyou for coming. I realise that this isn't easy for a lot of you. Still, we have a job to do, and a school full of young Menti to protect. We will not let the future of the Kentoku Archipelago come to harm."

 

From there, she launched into an explanation of how we were going to go about guarding the school, the points they were going to cover and what their responses should be in a multitude of scenarios. Most of them involved discharging the air horns that each of them had been given to summon more help from Daikura not on the current watch and imperials guards from outside the school. It was fully dark outside the windows by the time she rose from her seat and finished her speech.

 

"If any one of you turns against her fellow students, I will consider that person to have committed an act of war against this school and Clan Daikura, and respond accordingly. I do not expect to have to do that with any of you, but I say it nonetheless as a word of warning. Finally, remember why you are doing this. You are what stands between your friends, classmates and clanspeople and the knives of their enemies. They are relying on you tonight. Remember, stay together, and do not let them down."

 

Waving for the students to follow her, she led them through the school's now empty passageways and up a staircase that opened onto the roof of the building. From their small, flat vantage point at the building's peak, the crystal roof sloped gently downwards towards the four corners of the compound, interrupted here and there by crystal spires and extra floors poking up. The school was a complex construction, added onto over many centuries, but their position still afforded them a good view over much of the yards and the streets around the school, leading away towards the coliseum district. "Take up watch positions and keep your eyes open" Ihi instructed. "Especially you, Hona" she added, addressing the akaku-wearing Herupa.

 

Around them, all was silent.

[shadow pridak money gang]

 

IC:
 
"We're stranded here! It was one thing before, but now?! Do you have a deathwish? Are you looking for a fight!?"
 
"I like fighting," Jasik Dastana laughed, before his sister's fist caught him in the mouth. The Dastana first son spiraled on one foot, still grinning smugly but no longer chortling, and held his thumb and forefinger up to his top lip gingerly. The rest of his fingers laced along his jaw and cracked his neck experimentally, turning around and stretching in front of Arsix. "That wasn't very Toroshu-like. Have you done your deep breathing this morning? Sheika says--"

 

"Sheika is a hired thug! Not even our hired thug! Why is she spending so much time with the Fursics? I thought she liked you!"

 

Jasik knew the quickest way to infuriate his sister was to let her stew for a few seconds. He said nothing. Arsix stewed.

 

Sure enough, she hit him again. Jasik touched at the red mark blossoming across his cheekbone and laughed again; he and Arsix had brawled too many times for him to take it with true gravitas. Instead, from his golden coat the First Son pulled a lean, leather pouch from a pocket and spin it around his palm. The familiar jingle of currency rang like bells from his hand; Arsix looked at the accessory with the characteristic wariness she held around her lazy [unpredictable], unfocused [cunning], glib [dangerous] little brother. 

 

"What's this?" he asked, giving the pouch another rustle.

 

"It won't matter when I cram it up your--"

 

"--coin purse."

 

"That too."

 

"It's a coin purse. Some are leather, some are silk, some are red and some are blue and some are yellow, some are old and some are new. No matter what type you have, more often than not, it's going to be empty, or close enough to make no matter. But if yours is full, they're all going to look the same to Sheika. We've known that all our lives."

 

That didn't make Arsix any happier, but he could see it had calmed her down. The new Toroshu sat down on one of the expansive couches and put her fist (still dotted with flecks of blood; Jasik's lip had burst under the royal knuckles) up against her chin in thought. 

 

"We could have been home by now. Home, on Iki. We could have taken the time to strategize, build something cohesive, do something...I'm Toroshu now, Jasik. I need to be Toroshu. We don't need to be on Sado."

 

"If we leave now, then people will notice. They'll see me running away, back into our little corner of the sky, and it will provoke even more violence - and not just against us. Against the saihoko. The Ringti. The people who run the marketplaces and fruit stands, the common people...they'll be rained down on, harder than ever, by the Umbralines and their supporters. It's a police state out there, Arsix. You've seen it. I've seen it." Jasik's handsome face split into a bloody smile. "Plus, I like the women."

 

His jest set her off again.

 

"You like the--you don't like women, Jasik!" Arsix shouted. "You don't like men! You don't like Janu birds! You don't like anything in the world in any capacity!"

 

"That's not very fair. I like you just fine," Jasik Dastana laughed. His sister made to grab a vase, but he conjured a little ball of Soulsword energy and flicked it at her hand. The canister shattered; shards smoldered on the ground. For the first couple days after the ball, he'd done it for sport, and thought of Yusanora Umbraline's body, smoking and punched clean through.

 

Jasik didn't want to think about Yusanora Umbraline anymore, but it seemed like lately, the crowned crone had been the least painful image to call to mind; Arsix had already forgotten her entirely, in favor of another crone.

 

"They killed our mother," his twin sister said to herself, eyes almost vulnerable, "and all you can do is laugh."

 

Jasik's blood went cold. "You know that's not all I can do." Arsix's head dropped - dropped, visibly, for the first time since they'd left home. The First Son took careful steps to the couch and sat down beside his sister. Arsix's hands had unscrunched, and now clutched at her knees like a drowning woman. Jasik reached out and put a hand overtop one of her's.

 

"There isn't a single day that goes by that I don't think about what they've done to this Empire. To our mother - our mother, Arsix. I cooperate with Rayuke and put on faces for the Umbralines, but don't think I don't know that our mother - thousands of mothers - died because of them. Because of Yumiwa. Not just mothers, but daughters...sisters...sons. Dasaka, all colors and shapes and sizes, from Tajaar to Toroshu, have died or been imprisoned at the flick of an Umbraline's hand. And in return, they demand...everything. Anything Yusanora wanted was hers at a whim, and her daughter is even worse. A Toroshu imprisoned in front of her own family? Done. Her sister locked up in a tower to read our thoughts, day and night? Done. A handmaiden washed and sent to her chamber? Done. And it's all theirs. What's ours is theirs. It's been that way for thousands of years. It doesn't have to be that way anymore, Arsix. What's ours is theirs...but it is ours."

 

Arsix looked down at her hand, overshadowed by Jasik's. His hand fit wherever her fingers left crevices. 

 

"We'll go back to Iki," he assured his twin, "but we won't do it yet - and we won't do it without friends. When we have them, then we can take our ball and go home. We'll talk, and plan, and build...build something better, sister. And we'll do it for the people." He started to push her fingers back into a fist, catching his in her balled up palm.

 

"We'll do it for the farmers."

 

Arsix looked up at her brother.

 

"We'll do it for the sailors."

 

His gleaming eyes, golden topaz, were dark and set. 

 

"We'll do it for the women, and the men. And the children unlucky enough to be born as either under Umbraline rule."

 

The fumes from the obliterated vase wafted in the air; the air was thick with smoke trails and treason.

 

"We'll do it for our mother."

 

From outside the balcony, rioters screamed and pleaded and cried bloody murder. Umbraline, they cursed. Dastana.

 

From outside the balcony, the world shouted for the Twins.

 

"And you and me."

 

Jasik and Arsix were a united front.

 

"We'll do it for you and me."

 

...

 

-Tyler

Edited September 11, 2014 by Parks and Rekt

[Constructelf]

OOC not as good as i hoped it to be; it's late at night and I'm in existential ranting mode

 

IC Seiryū

For the first time in his life, Seiryū was consciously, intentionally, deliberately not working.

 

He had the work right in front of him, on his desk, but he was just sitting there. He wasn't even in a daze; no, he knew that he wasn't working.

 

Instead, he was thinking.

 

He was questioning.

 

 

 

His first question: a confused, despairing cry to the heavens as to why the sphere of the island had to so desperately change. 

 

Why must there be war and chaos?

 

Why must Umbraline and Dastana slay each other, dragging all others into their feud?

 

Why. Did. Jasik. Kill. Yusanora?

 

Why. Did. Kyōshi. Support. Them?

 

Why did Minami doom herself and her clan to a potential fate worse than death?

 

Ever since that day, Seiryū had the same dream.

 

He dreamed that he was imprisoned in a void, held in Zataka's embrace, reliving his first memory.

 

His memory of his sister's birth.

 

His memory of his mother's death.

 

And then, he would witness his sister die.

Not from Rayuke's sword, but from the consumption within.

 

The curse that Seiryū had tried to cure,

 

And the curse that he had inflicted on her.

 

 

 

The second?

 

It was a question that most would consider heresy.

 

It was a question that undermined the root of all society

 

Why is this right? Why is this accepted?

 

Why do we follow the Virtues?

 

Why are people bound by their birth?

 

It wasn't just a "why"; it was also a "what"

 

What. Is. True?

 

What. Is. Permitted?

 

 

 

In the past, the other clans had this to say about the Kyōshi: that they would not believe in anything they couldn't see, touch, or hit with a hammer. An exaggeration, but one with root in reality.

 

Sometimes, Seiryū thought that this, not the Virtues, was right.

 

Rather than morals and ethics, observations and inferences, hypotheses and conclusions, were what had guided his people ever since their birth.

 

For if one couldn't verify the existence of something, but accepted it as true nonetheless, that one would be stumbled and be lead down the twisted path of untruth and falsehood.

 

But Dasakan society had done so on a mass level.

 

For they could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch their great Spirit; nor could they quantify and symbolize her in numbers, patterns, and equations.

 

Why did the Dasaka accept the authority from above, when the existence of the above could not be proven?

 

And if there was no above, did the Rora rule by the power of force and political leverage alone?

 

What. Right. Does. She. Have. To. Rule. Us?

 

What. Right. Does. She. Have. To. Enslave. Us?

 

But then again, what were rights?

 

For rights existed only in the sphere of the mind, born from basic decency and solidified in moral law.

 

But then again, did not all immaterial concepts?

 

If so, then what. Was. Right?

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

The ride was blessedly short.

 

At the same time his summoned coach arrived, a messenger had sprinted up, giving him good news; Jasik and his sister Arsix, the new Toroshu of the Dastana clan, were still in the city... albeit besieged in their current residence by the angry masses. It would be a very short trip.

 

But it would still give him time to think.

 

Arsix and Jasik - now there was a pair. Having two children was unusual enough; having them be twins was considered a blessing. But one a girl and one a boy? At the time it was considered a sign of favor from Zuto-Nui, a validation of their rise to power amongst the most powerful of families. He had heard all the stories, listened to the tales... and it didn't take much to quickly realize they were an armful. They were the poster children of the first generation to grow up in the Dastana's sphere of recent influence; young, talented, powerful, the world at their fingertips, with a strong mother and, of course, money.

 

But now it has seemed that the fates have literally dropped that world right into their unsuspecting laps.

 

Quite roughly if you ask me.

 

The coach came to a standstill, his wanderings interrupted. The door was opened, and a moment later I saw a young lieutenant step forward, her figure giving me a slight bow. "We are here, your Magistrate."

 

Even before I stepped out I knew I was walking into a dragon's nest.

 

The twins had been holed up in an estate within the Palace ground, unable to leave due to the massive amounts of attention they had been getting lately, proven simply my the masses crowded outside their front door. Order still reigned here in Sado, but it was a fragile one; it had almost become a police state due to the violence, but the Rora had not yet banned demonstrations. Yet.

 

Judging by the size of this crowd, and the thoughts I easily picked up fueled by emotion, that might change sooner rather than later.

 

It didn't take long for them to notice my presence. Even less for the cheering to start. Apparently they thought I was here finally administer justice for the murder of the Rora, that I had finally come to drag the murderer through the streets before his final execution.

 

It sickened me.

 

My guards and escorts surrounded me, pushing back the crowd, but to little avail. They wanted me, screaming, cheering, some booing. It was like a zoo, a mass of animals without restraint or decency. Is this what we have become? What we have fallen to? Even for someone like me it was hard to stay stoic, to remain calm even as the avalanche of thoughts and negative emotions washed upon my frame.

 

Yet I stood firm. For the sake of Order and Honor I had to. I had to be above the din, above the petty words and strife. I was the Imperial Executioner - if I gave in to what they wanted, my word, my status, my very being would be worth less than the very stones I was walking on. And because I could do this, I had Power.

 

For me it was like moving in slow motion as I raised my hands next to me, then with great effort swung them forward, the motion ending on one giant clap. A clap accentuated by my Willhammer discipline. A clap was now a minor shockwave as it moved out into the crowd.

 

A ripple that did not knock anyone over or even harm them, but enough to momentarily stun them. The silence afterwards was almost as stunning as the clap.

 

Taking in a deep breath I focus, and with one slow movement I opened my arms, before me a path through the mass of bodies appeared, the protesters moved back as if by an invisible hand. Exhaling slowly I simply nodded and began to walk calmly and passively forward, lacing my fingers behind my back and my entourage smartly followed.

 

No-one said a word. No-one dared to. Within moments I reached the gates of the complex, the Dastana guards on the other side looking very wary if not a tad bit overwhelmed with all the commotion going on just outside their walls. Here I stopped. Waiting a full minute before speaking, giving them time to adjust to my massive presence... to adjust in more ways than one. It had gotten even quieter as the crowd waited to hear what I said, their baited breath almost palatable. Ignoring them I focus on the Captain of those defenders present, my deep rumbling voice speaking very simply. I was not a man of many words, and I usually waited to make sure I was ready to speak.

 

"I have come... to speak with Jasik."

 

That was it. For everyone's privacy and safety, that is ALL anyone needed to know right now. I prayed silently to Zuto-Nui that he would be willing to grant audience.

 

Otherwise this was going to get tricky.

Edited September 12, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[Palm]

Arsix and Jasik - now there was a pair.

 

IC:

 

The Captain turned away and walked towards the apartments entrance, vanishing through the door.

 

After a minute or so of waiting, the Captain returned, "First son Dastana Jasik will see you now." The gates began to open and allowed Rayuke access to the other side of the walls. Some guards at the gate joined the Imperial Executioner to escort him and his own guards up the entrance.

 

Once inside, Rayuke was greeted by one of the twins who stood in the foyer next to a guard of their own. Unclear whether or not it was Arsix or Jasik as they wore a cloak which covered their body save their face Rayuke listened, "Grand Executioner Rayuke. We appreciate your coming to see us," at first it seemed as if Rayuke would have been able to discern which twin was before him, yet having never spoken to either it was proving rather difficult. As they were nearly-identical in appearance, their voices were strikingly similar as well, "We were afraid that you would rather dismiss the truth and allow these conflicts to run their course - to leave us alone," they continued truthfully, "Please, come upstairs where we can continue without prying ears."

[25K Now!]

IC: Higashi

 

The rebel was gone. Higashi looked around the second floor. The hole was something she needed to avoid unless she wanted to get out quickly again. Sounds of combat continued to resound from outside the window. Did they get hit with the table yet? She didn't know. But, she'd probably try harry them some more. Maybe.

[Void Emissary]

Ic:

 

"Do what you need to do," Harume said with a nod, "besides, you have no real obligation to stay around any longer..."

 

IC: Zyla / Records Office

 

Zyla smiled. It would have been only too simple for Harume to have refused her request on the grounds of necessity in a dangerous situation, or even on the authority of her status as a Menti. After all, what detective would have believed a timber business to be of any importance against a (multiple/attempted) murder inquiry?

 

"Thank you for your understanding, ma'am," the Dashi said, bowing her head. "Now, when do we leave?"

 

-Void

[Mel]

[sado, Aristocratic Quarter]

 

Morie crumpled the paper in her hands, a rare show of frustration.  How many fools live on this island? When the rumors had started to coagulate around Dastana Jasik, she had been mildly worried, but she had thought that she had time.  Time before some young dunderheads decided to jeopardize the entire empire for petty revenge.  She wondered briefly if the Dastana Toroshu was part of the plot at all, but quickly dismissed it.  That was unimportant.  She was dead, and Morie was left to pick through the mess that her younger peers had left.

 

Soraya’s insolent exit was just one of the many thorns in her side.  The dashi would be punished once she returned, of course, stripped of her position and relocated to some backwater part of the archipelago where she would be unable to do so much damage.

 

There was more to this than a clan spat between the most exalted clan and the insecure low class who had managed to crawl their way to the top with ill-gotten gains.  Someone was behind this; someone who thought to take advantage of the chaos that threatened to envelop them.  She now regretted having spent so little time on Sado recently; what she knew of the Dastana twins was secondhand.  The brother was supposed to be indolent and lazy, but she doubted that, anyone who could punch a hole in the Rora’s chest with pure psychic energy was unlikely to be without discipline.  The sister, she was fiery, but with a core of tact and good sense of how to move on the political dancefloor.  Arsix Dastana reminded Morie of herself, or perhaps what Shuuan might have been had she cared at all about her honor (and been much prettier, of course).  Either, both, or neither of them could have orchestrated the Rora’s death, but she was slightly more suspicious of the brother.  That facade held up for so long told to much of someone who knew how to lie well.

 

Morie sighed, looking out the window.  She needed to find some sort of order to all these questions and half bits of information.  She needed to peel each layer of deception away until she saw the truth of the enemy’s motivations, and she needed to do it before they did the same to her.  Well, that is not likely, at least she thought.  For who looks to dyers and their elegant robes when war rumbles on the horizon?  The letter of support to the crown she penned had been elegant in style and utterly boring, dry, just the kind expected from a crusty old Torushu who should have retired several decades ago?

 

But she needed more information.  She needed allies. Discreet allies.

Edited September 14, 2014 by Yukiko

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

"Grand Executioner Rayuke. We appreciate your coming to see us. We were afraid that you would rather dismiss the truth and allow these conflicts to run their course - to leave us alone. Please, come upstairs where we can continue without prying ears."

 

Wait... we?

 

Of course. Identical twins.

 

I yet had the pleasure to meet either of them... which meant that I could not identify which one was which when only presented with one. And as it seemed both their appearance AND voices were probably similar, as such things came with the territory. It irked me slightly to see them yanking my chain like this, but I dismissed the thought just as quickly. I was, as course, and Umbraline, and our two families were just a declaration away from Clanal war; it would make sense they would take ever precaution possible in this explosive atmosphere... especially after the death of their own mother.

 

I would have to tread carefully while performing my station.

 

My always-calm demeanor continued as I bowed respectfully, acknowledging their respect for privacy. With a wave of my hand I dismissed most of my escort; only a pair of bodyguards and my legal witness would follow. The rest would stay behind. I knew my protectors were cringing at that, but I was here to find out the truth, NOT to start another fight, and that needed to be conveyed.

 

Lacing my fingers behind my back once again I began to follow up the grand staircase, my slow, thumping steps the only sound heard in the vast foyer.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

The Twin turned with a favoring smile at Rayuke and inclined their head respectfully when they had reached the apex of the staircase, standing outside the room. Well-build, attractive and proud, the Dastana's face was like clay, shaped and molded but not quite baked into something solid; where Rayuke's eyes traced the strong jaw, the full lips, drawn in a pouty half-smile, the golden eyes, his eyes found features that looked masculine but rippled - like moving water under a stone's weight - into something more feminine. Even the voice, smooth of cadence and powerful, lacked distinguishment. It was a baritone, soft and careful; it was practiced.

 

"I see you bring two guards and a witness," they said. "This is nothing less than we expected. We only ask that, as guests, we are allowed the same courtesy. Forgive us, Grand Executioner, but we are most clear of thought when we are together. To separate us...well. Suffice it to say we do not take well to being separated. Please. Come in."

 

When the door opened before the Dastana's hand, Rayuke's eyes found the second Twin and then back towards the first. He was quick and practiced, with the wary gaze of a Battlemaster, but his astute grip on which was which had come and gone - the Twins were sitting on one of the resplendent couches, with the balcony to their right and two guards on the inside of the door. They had left the largest chair for Rayuke - it was ornate, expansive, and comfortable enough to have seated both Twins and their mother when she had lived, but the Umbraline First Son took up as much space as one of the Menti and their old, frail mother between them. The crown's witness found his own seat; the guards remained standing, facing the Dastana at the same distance the guards of the Twins beheld the Umbralines. 

 

Outside, screams for Jasik's head bounced off the terrace and into the foyer. Neither Twin paid them any mind.

 

"Grand Executioner," one greeted. "We've hoped to see you for some time, and we would like to extend an apology. We are sure your deliberations have taken time, especially with the regrettable...extenuating circumstances on Sado. Our hearts go out to all affected by the riots. As well as all the true hearts who mourn for our beloved mother."

 

The Twin who had led Rayuke from the gates looked up; the Imperial Executioner's eyes flitted back and forth; their faces, their voices, their mannerisms changed! Even while they talked, when he felt he had a handle on one, they changed. It was practiced...worse than practiced...it was natural! Had the rumors been true - were Jasik and Arsix the same person, split between two bodies? Their mannerisms were natural...but how could they be?

 

"We understand that you have questions for us," said the Twin who had guided the massive Battlemaster. "Please. We hold no secrets from the crown here."

 

-Tyler

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

For the longest time I sat, doing nothing.

 

I was notorious for my slow pace, praised for my patience, yet scorned for my often resigned attitude. I never rushed to action unless absolutely necessary, as careful with my words as I was with my actions. Or at least that's what I tried to do. Zuto-Nui knows in a world where even the slightest miscalculation can result in honor duels this was difficult at best, almost impossible at worst.

 

And yet here I was with another conundrum.

 

I leaned back slightly and closed my eyes, elbows leaning on the ornate armrests, fingers laced as I deliberated my next action. Everyone knew I took my time before doing anything, and these twins would be no exception. I would make them wait until I could decide what to do with them.

 

Such as how to make my job easier when they are determined to make it difficult.

 

Or at least, that's how they made it seem.

 

Looks can be deceiving. I live in such a world every waking moment of every day. Willhammers, Sighteyes, codes and conspiracies... rarely did one get the direct and full answer from everyone. This was a world where everything was relative, a world where the line between imagination and reality was blurred, where one person's illusion was another solid foundation. These twins were a prime example of it, choosing to play the confusion card, each being one and the same. As tempting as it was to think they were the same person split between two people I knew better, but I had to give it to them: they were really good at this. It wasn't hard to see how and why they developed such a close relationship, how they watched out and protected one another... it was similar to my relationship with my own sister. But they took it to a whole new level, taking the term "thinking and acting as one" to its apex. I have no doubt they weren't doing this in ill-intent, but rather out of a protective reflex for one another. They had after all just lost their mother, now the scorn and sacrificial tokens to the citizen's bloodlust. I know how that feels.

 

Perhaps... that's how I'll approach it.

 

"I came... to ask one question." I said, my deep baritone voice rumbling across the room. It was like a far away landslide, or distant earthquake, gravely but not unpleasant to listen to. "But now... I must ask two."

 

I paused to let that sink in for a moment before I continued. "You are not the only ones who are... suffering." My voice became lower, something I did not do often because it sounded quite strange, even to me. "I lost... my sister. I spent... centuries working in the mines of Iki for my... simple act of protection. You wish... to protect yourselves. You are... afraid. I... understand."

 

I even spoke slow. Not out of some speech impediment, but just due to the nature of my large frame as I often drawled out words longer than most people. I could not speak quickly lest I crackle, something that made my sister double over more often than once. Over time I had managed to eliminate most of the pauses, but it could be tedious to listen to me talk for any extended period of time. Which is why I often spoke simply. And directly.

 

"And my niece... she grieves too. But I cannot... rest. I have... a duty. A duty... to the people. I... seek Truth. I... find innocence. And I... punish the guilty. People think I... seek to punish, but I... do not. I... do not enjoy my position. One... should not enjoy death. I wish... to find innocence. I rarely... believe, I never... pass judgements until I know. Yet your actions make it... difficult for me. I need to find... truth. Not games. So now... I must ask two."

 

With that last sentence I finally opened my eyes, locking eyes with each one individually, before standing to my full height. There were times when my towering frame was good and useful for intimidating others, but now as I inadvertently lorded over their seated bodies I felt that it conveyed the wrong message. Even my calming demeanor could be overwhelmed by my massive frame if I was not careful. So without fanfare I reached across my chest and one by one unclipped the straps that held my mighty greatsword, turning around and resting it across the large chair. The weapon was so long it still managed to hang over the sides, which if the situation wasn't so serious it would have been comical. Standing tall I was a statue in the room, my hands as usual laced behind behind my back. I had relieved myself of my weapon as a gesture of good faith, wanting to convey both the importance and seriousness of what my visit implied. I hadn't once smiled, though it had softened as I had commented on my past. Looking down at the twins, I finally spoke again.

 

"I request... the individual presence of the real Jasik in front... of these witnesses. May he stand... before me."

 

I really hated the formalities of this job.

Edited September 15, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[Palm]

IC: Dastana Arsix

 

For a moment, as if silently deciding what to do the twins stayed still. Their gazes didn't break away from Rayuke, and instead remained fixated on the executioner. Deciding without thought or word, the twins finally looked to one another as Dastana Jasik reached for the clasp over his cloak and undid it, standing up.

 

Arsix watched her brother leave his seat, somewhat unsure of what to expect from the situation. They knew that eventually Rayuke would make his way to them both, searching for answers. Yet, despite complex planning, there was nothing really they could do to avoid their meeting him. It was inevitable.

 

Dastana Arsix planned for a lot of things, but this was one situation that she held little control over.

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

I saw the deliberation in their eyes, the silent communication between them. Whether it was that fabled idea that twins shared a secret bond of thoughts, or whether simply by a private Ideatalk, it did not matter to me. I silently breathed a sigh of relief when eventually only one stood, and even with the cloak off I could not be absolutely sure it was him.

 

I had to make sure.

 

Taking in a long massive breath I mentally activated my Rode. Instantly I could feel the sensation of extra knowledge, the feeling of absolute. My mask began to glow as I concentrated, my eyes growing increasingly intense. This was yet another sad effect of my job - the unsettling aspect of my mask. I had been told it was one of the most wretched of experiences, explained by those who had undergone my scrutiny and come out innocent. It was as if you were stripped of everything, your soul laid bare as no lies or deceit could be made, no illusions to cloud vision, the sight of my eyes penetrating into your very soul. With this mask I could uncover every falsehood, every lie, every half-truth ever said, and it was terrifying to those who were under its gaze. And it only made sense. With a society surrounded by illusions, one who could cut through them like a Soulsword cuts stone...

 

Which is why I only used it when all other avenues failed. And only as long as I needed it.

 

As I stared down the Dasaka he did not squirm, like most did, and for that I gave him full marks. I had no doubt he was on the inside, but he showed no fear, or at least the fear that I had grown accustomed to seeing when those who had done something wrong were about to be found out.

 

It was time.

 

"Are you... Jasik, Son of Yomiken, First Son of Clan Dastana, brother of Toroshu Arsix?"

[Palm]

IC: Dastana Arsix

 

"Does it look like he has breasts," Arsix said, sitting coolly in her seat, hands folded, cloak still on, "He's Jasik."

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

If ONLY I could glare...

 

But of course, I couldn't. I wouldn't, I would not give her the satisfaction of that snarky remark.

 

"Illusions... are tricky business." I rumbled slowly, shifting my gaze to the other one. "With them... anything is possible."

 

Yet even as I looked at the female, it was clear: she was NOT lying. She was Arsix of Dastana, which meant that the one before me was Jasix. My gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer before I returned to the Dasaka before me. This... this was the moment the Empire has been waiting for. For once I did not know before hand if someone was innocent or guilty.

 

"Jasix, Son of Yomiken, did you... "

 

I found myself pausing, one of the rare times where the gravity if the situation and eventual answer had profound and impossibly-reaching implications

 

" ... did you kill the former Rora, Yusanora of Umbraline?"

 

While only those in the room could hear this conversation, it was as if the whole universe held its breath.

[25K Now!]

IC: Amaki

 

Amaki rolled out of bed.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

The mask cut into him all at once; the mask obliterated him like a vase on a table; the mask punched a hole clean through his chest, exposing his heart for the whole room; the mask had made a ruin of him; Jasik did not fear the mask, for he knew what he would see.

 

Memories floated through him, queen's crown on her brow, consort's on his; the boat ride to Iki, where she had nearly had him thrown overboard before realizing she would be the only one to dive in after him; two young Menti, mirror images of each other, with one demanding where those purebred ####s were taking her brother while the other laughed; Yomiken, lying in her bed with one mouth yawning across her face and another yawning down her throat; he had stumbled forward with a dry sob, his famous composure melting, and she had pulled him back from the body and held him while he mentally screamed his anguish, and he knew that he had wrought this.

 

A baby Menti, so like the one born eight seconds before him, mentally screamed his anguish; his eyes found her, eight seconds old and already sulking, and Jasik started to laugh and laugh.

 

His life was an open book, and Jasik did not fear or begrudge the mask for perusing it, for all the pages had Arsix scrawled in big, block print. She was cover to cover; she was dedication and index; prologue and epilogue. Jasik begrudged nothing; one fear bloomed in his chest, the cardinal fear, and until he was long dead it would never come to pass. Rayuke's stare held nothing for him.

 

"You said you loved your sister." The words echoed in the air around him like the world had trapped him in a cone. His own voice - different from Arsix's, higher and quicker to joke; the differences too minute for normal women and men to notice were always incredibly prevalent to the Twins - echoed in the cone and begrudged him his silver tongue. 

 

Yes... " Rayuke replied slowly, weighing his answer.

 

"I love mine more," Jasik said, in the quiet, dignified tones of perfect despair. "I'm sorry if that offends you. It's just a fact to me. It's always been that way. She has kept me alive and prospering, in a world where no one else would, and in return I swore her my life and my love not because it was my duty, or because it was my place in the Order of things. We aren't big on Order at Iki. If we were, Arsix and I would have been born in the streets and died in the streets fighting for every scrap of bread and hoping we didn't make curry that wasn't to your niece's liking, for fear of having her guard dog slice us in half from shoulder to waist. No. I swore Arsix my life and my love, because she was all I've ever had in my life I've ever felt comfortable swearing to...and because I don't care about being the strongest, or the most powerful. To live...and to love...to be her brother... that's all I've ever needed. To throw that away...throw her away...for what? An old woman? Hardly."

 

Underneath his shapeless orange robe, Jasik had worn Dastana finery, orange jacket and tunic with a low neckline, golden coil around his arm, and one of the Twin dirks at his belt. He looked down at it all casually, so casually, and then up at Rayuke again. His hand found Arsix's, but he did not look to his sister. He never had. They looked to each other.

 

"Your sister was not worth the energy I would have taken to cover my tracks at the Gala - and make no mistake, I would have covered my tracks. She was not worth having to go about talking to the Saihoko - to my people - and wondering whether one of them is really an Umbraline extremist, ready to put a knife in my back before my sister can even make a move. She was not worth waking up one morning and being dragged through an unfriendly palace to find my mother with her throat cut far from home, and knowing that it would have happened whether you were guilty or innocent." Jasik smiled darkly to himself and ran a calm hand over the forehead of his Ruru, brushing his thumb along his brow with his fingers silently waving for the guards to stand at ease. 

 

"You asked a specific question, Grand Executioner, and as you've bared my soul already I'll give you a specific answer: no, Jasik, son of Yomiken, did not kill the former Rora, Yusanora of Umbraline. There's only one woman in the world worthy of the ###### that my life has become...and if you didn't know her any better, you'd think she was more of a man than I was." 

 

Jas turned to his sister, singularly quiet, and winked carelessly.

 

"Maybe she is."

 

-Tyler

Edited September 15, 2014 by GSR

[They]

OOC:  With Ghosthand's permission...

 

IC: Kamari of clan Hogo, Coliseum District on Sado (allyeway Ambush/riot)

 

The counter-attack worked, and for a moment Tani was stunned.  A moment was long enough.  Kamari spun herself around the menti's left side, and with a sickening crack of crystal on bone slashed open tani's skull.  There was nothing for a moment and then a fine mist of blood.  By then Kamari was gone, working her way through the bloodbath with her kanohi flickering on and off.  She was exhausted, and the blood loss was beginning to take its toll on her abilities as she reached the open street.  A table smashed on top of a dashi to the effect of a horrible scream.  

 

"By the goddess," Kamari whispered to herself under the sounds of conflict, yanking a barbed arrow from a corpse.  The shaft was broken.  Useless.  Or so she thought.  A rioter rushed up with axe and barstool turned shield, screaming obscenities.  She countered the descending blow of the axe with her falcata, jammed the arrow into the eye socket, and then slumped forward and tripped over the barstool shield.  Her legs tangled and she groaned as the wound in her knee opened more before she could grit her teeth and kick her way free.  

She rested on her good knee and took stock of the situation.  There, just a few yards away, was a salvageable arrow.  It wasn't one of hers, but it'd do the trick in a pinch.