The complete Soul clings to a complete spirit and a complete body. This is the natural state of being for all people. However, there are those who have allowed evil to corrupt their soul, thus becoming being's of evil. It is these same beings that run the risk of becoming Kishin, a god of destruction, who once nearly plunged the world into chaos and death. Such an event has yet to take place, thanks to the work of a special organization, dedicated to the prevention of the Kinshin's rebirth, the Shinigami Buki Shokunin Senmon Gakko or Shibusen for short.
It is here that team's of warriors, a demon weapon, most with a human form, and a meister, who wields the weapon, train and hone their skill and ability's. Traveling world wide, they hunt down and defeat evil human's, absorbing the soul within their weapon to prevent it from becoming more powerful. It is also through this that the weapon itself become's more powerful, assisting in the ultimate goal of weapon and weapon meister: Create a weapon powerful enough to be used by Shinigami-sama, the God of Death himself. Through their endeavor's, the meister's and their weapon's form strong bond's of friendship, and possibly even more.
But that' s not to say that the occasional personality clash dos not occur and it is with such a thing that our story begins…
"I blame you for this!", York yelled out at me. Or at least he would have if he weren't out of breath from running. Note to self: consider wearing a shorter tailed coat before going after a witch next time. Considering, of course, the giant, nigh indestructible golem the witch from this time sent after us dos'nt kill us first. "Oh, sure! Blame me, Mister Rush-headlong-into-the-witch's-lair-screaming-like-a-maniac!", I shot back, "Now is not the time for this cra…" It was right in mid-insult that the golem let out a bellowing howl, the force of it blowing my coat around my leg's.
All the more reason to run, I'd like to think. "We can blame each other later when we're not about to die!", York agreed, yelling a split-second later, "And I was not screaming, I was announcing our heroic presence." "Heroic presence? You've been hanging out with Black Star too much, you know that." "Aw, shut up!" And thus concludes one of the oh-so meaningful conversation's between my partner and I. You'd think a year of living with someone could make dealing with them easier, but you'd be wrong.
"This is bad", I thought, "I'm running out of steam here." Looking over to York, I could clearly see his face flushed from exhaustion. The wound on his side was starting to bleed again, too, small drop's flying out of the make-shift bandaging. "York dos'nt look too good, ether." "York, we can't just keep running like this. That thing'll get us for sure" "Yeah, but we cant just stop either. We'll be trampled. And it's not like we can just jump out of the way", he retorted, a "what, are you stupid?" look on his face. Not to say ,of course, that he wasn't right. His point brought my attention back to our surrounding's, a narrow entrance hall barley wide enough to let the golem run through, let alone us jumping out of the way. "Damn it, he's right." It was then that I remembered. At the gate, there was a large pillar running between the door's, something I had initially ignored. Looking up towards the ceiling, I saw what looked like rafter's going from left wall to right wall, all attached to a single beam running along the ceiling's length. "Probable connects to the one at the entrance", I mumbled to myself. "I really don't like it when you get that look on you face", he said, interrupting my train of thought. "York, I have an idea!" "Well, if it includes anything along the line of "not getting killed", I'm all ear's". That apparently sadistic smile I have spread across my face. "We're gonna tear this place down!"
If he was impressed, it didn't show. "Care to run that by me again?" "It's simple", sadistic smile brimming, "The whole place has a system of support beam's to keep it from caving in", I explained, pointing up to the ceiling to show him what I meant. "So, we cave in the roof, thus burying our giant friend back there", he surmised, "Yup" "And get our self's crushed in the process. Nice plan, Dane". York is nothing if not blunt.
"Okay, not the most thought out plan, but I don't see you coming up with anything and, no, we don't have 50 year's for you to", I yelled just as he opened his mouth. "I was just gonna say it's probable the best shot we have", he shot back, wearing his very rare "serious" face, a sign that always told me he was ready to do-or-die. Never a comforting thing when York is concerned. "Alright, when I say so, transform", removing my coat in the process. A subtle glow started to surround York, his signal for being ready. My coat balled up in my hand's, I let the muscle's in my back ease up. "Ready…" The glow around York got brighter as my run started to slow, ready to throw the coat. "….GO!"
You know how in action movies, at the really good parts, they slow everything down so you get a frame by frame view? That's about as close a description to what happened as you can get. At my signal, three thing's happened all at once: I threw my coat at the golem's head, unfurling in the air and covering it's eye's. the golem, strong enough to crush us with it's little finger but dumber than a box of rock's, panicked now that it couldn't see, and thus, grinded to a halt, slipping and essentially body checking the left hand wall. I jumped into the air, making a very audible "whooshing" sound, with York right behind me, now nothing more than a bright ball of blue light. Faster than I could move, the light ball placed itself in my hand and began to change. Where at first it was round, it started to spread, become longer and more slender. Once it was fully extended, the end's changed, the bottom end turning into a spade shape, and the top end into a long, curved blade.
York's weapon form complete, I tightened my grip, causing the light to shatter, revealing a scythe. It was all black, except for the blade, which was the same icy blue as York's eye's. In quick succession, I cut down five rock's that otherwise would have crushed us. I jumped from one rock to another, making my way to the roof. "You ready?", I yelled out to York, who responded with a resounding, "Hell Yeah!!" The blade began to glow as I concentrated energy into it, leaving a blue streak as I made one large leap to the ceiling. Rearing my weapon back, the light illuminating part of the ever-crumbling hall, I let out a battle cry as I slashed the ceiling, "DEMON SLASHER BURST!!!"
Anyone watching from the outside would have seen a darkened figure all but explode out of the structure, a trail of dust and debris falling behind it. They would have then seen said figure stop in midair, doing so with what would appear to be large, demon wing's , darker than a starless, moonless night, long and large enough to wrap itself with them like a cloak. They would have seen a single, red glow coming from what would be it's right eye, the other being cut off by a scar, keeping the lid shut. "Wow, look at it go", said York, awestruck as the temple began to collapse, and I do mean the entire temple. Large cloud's of dust rose into the air as the structure, which I can only describe as a giant igloo connected to three smaller dome's on each side, fell in on itself in a large scale Domino effect.
"Well, this mission was pretty much a bust. We nearly got killed and toppled an ancient piece of arcitecture to boot", I expressed, rather destracted by trying to focus on something in the distance. "Well it's not all bad", York tried to assure me, "Atleast we stopped the golem." Pointing to the object in the distance, I retorted, "Yeah, and that's only because the witch got away." Quickly fading into the horizon, a faint "Ah-he-he-he-he-he!" could be heard. She didn't have to mock us, you know. "What are you waiting for, we can't let her get away!", York exclaimed, trying to wriggle out of my hand after the witch. " Not much we can do", I said, slinging the scythe over a shoulder. "That last attack wiped me out and your wound opened up again. Going up against anything right now, especially a witch, would be suicide. We're going back to the academy." "Aw come on, you wuss!", He complained as I headed north, along with a few other expletive's that I shall not repeat out of principle. Truth be told, it always felt good to spread my wing's. Keeping 'em folded do's a number on my muscles. To bad it was a necessity. "Hey, watch the claw's!", yelled York. "Oh, sorry", lighting up my grip. I had made some shallow gouges in the metal. I looked at both hand's. Black claw's at least 5-ince's long had sprouted from my finger's, a consequence of using that last attack. 15foot long wings, claw's you could tear somebody's throat out with, eye's (or in my case "eye") that glowed crimson in the dark. You'd have these too, if your mother was a demon. "Hey, Dane", said York, once again interrupting my train of thought. "Wasn't there something important about that place?" "Uh..", I so eloquently responded, "Let's see. What did Shinigami-sama call it. The Eui…, Yuro…"
"The Eurydice Shrine!", exclaimed the god of death. York and I both flinched into a bow at this, saying "I'm Sorry" at the same time. "Sorry dos'nt bring back one of the oldest man made structure's in the world!"
"It wasn't my fault", York said, pointing at me, "It was his plan!" "You little sellout!", I thought to myself, silently preparing revenge when, SLAM!, York was on the ground, knocked in the head by one of Shinigami-sama's blocky, comically oversized hand's, a move known infamously as the "Shinigami chop". "Placing blame will only get you in deeper. What Dane did was a last ditch effort to save his and your lives. Atleast I hope it was, right, Dane?" He said, looking at me. "Yes, sir!", I said, falling back into a bow. "Well then. Considering the circumstance's, I suppose a proper punishment would be to…", he trailed off. Great, a death god with theatrical streak. "Yes, sir?", I asked, imagining the worst. "To confiscate all the soul's you've collected so far." Well, that's not so bad and… wait a minute… "All the soul's? As in "every" one?" "Yep!", he replayed cheerfully. "Whaat!", York screamed, back into consciousness. "Some of those were really hard to get, you know!" "Really?, He asked, his head cocked to the side. "Yeah, really. There was this one freak in a hockey mask who nearly torn me to pieces. Then there was the executioner guy who almost beheaded Dane", York continued to rant, that last one bringing back memory's of a particularly scary encounter back in London. I still shake thinking about it. "Then there was that dream guy, that other freak in the leather mask, that whacked-out house back in New York….", he went on, counting each with his finger's "Uh-huh… I see… Oh, my", Shinigami-sama would reply as York continued with his list of our, admittedly, hard earned soul's. "I think he get's it, York", I said as he went on. "That wax museum, that guy from the hotel, the other guy from the motel, that red house, and the…" SLAM! York was down again, victim to a second chop. "I get it, York", He said, raised hand betraying his sing-song voice. "Though I'm still taking the soul's, it would be such a shame for all that hard work to go to waste", he went on, "So, I'll make you a deal, which also fit's rather nicely with the second part of your punishment." You gotta' be kidding me! "Second Part? Wasn't taking our soul's away enough?", York weakly complained from the floor. "No", was all he got for an answer. "You are to help three set's of team's with their soul hunting. How well you do will determine how many of your soul's you get back." "All right!", York yelled, jumping up to his feet, "A chance at redemption!" I bowed again, saying, "Thank you, sir. We won't mess this one up, I assure you." Chuckling to himself, obviously happy with our excitement, began, "Very well. The first team you are to help…"
To be continued…
Profiles
Dane
The son of a human (father) and demon (mother), a pairing that rarely results in healthy children. Easily recognized by his long facial scar, which go's over his left eye and down to the jaw, keeping the lid closed, fiery orange eye color, and usual attire of dark clothing, off set by a crimson trench coat, of which he has multiple copies. Though human in appearance, he has a pair of long, jet black wing's, kept tightly folded and covered with his coat in an attempt to fit in with other human's. The straight man to York's comic, Dane is calm, collected, and of an introverted personality. Dane is also a closeted bisexual, though it's more obvious than he think's. He and York have a reputation for going after "haunted houses", which are really house's that have developed an evil soul after a signifigent or large enough number of tragedy's accord in them, as well as other haunted things, like ghost train's and ship's. The more agitated he get's, the more demonic he become's physically.
Psychological fact: Dane has an extreme discomfort for being around large amount's of people, which has to do with an event in his child hood involving his scar.
Voice actor I would choose: Johnny Yong Bosch
York
Never having known his parent's, York spent the majority of his childhood jumping form one orphanege to another, untill the age of 7, at which he simply ran off. Often insulted and even ostracized for his natural silver hair and ice-blue eye's, the only home he's ever truly had is at Shibusen. A study in polar opposet personality's when compared to his partner, York is the kind of guy who would crack a bad joke to lighten the mode, pop party balloon's just for the hell of it, and sing karaoke even if he can't carry a tune in a bucket, though inside he is a lonely soul who just want's to be accepted. He is always the first to bust Dane on letting his "true feeling's" slip, such as checking out both girl's and guy's, but really just want's his friend to accept himself. He and Black Star are close friend's and has a not so secret thing for Tsubaki.
Psychological fact: York has a strong inferiority complex, often worrying if Dane see's him as a friend or an annoyance.
Voice Actor I would choose: Brad Swaily
And thus I introduce you to a recurring character concept of mine: The long, facial scar that often shut's off the eye it go's over. I just can't help it. Whenever I come up with a new character, I just have to put some kind of scarring on them, most often the one I just described. Could have something to do with my OCD, or maybe I just like scar's for whatever reason? Anyway I hope you enjoy, and please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think.