Title: Tales of Monokuro (Luma's story mode)

Rating: M

Written by: Tempest

Summary: Luma Artemes was never one for hero work; she was an outlaw, after all. But when a puppet master, a gothic lolita, and a young pirate drag her into the midst of a brewing war, old dogs are forced to learn new tricks.

The moon was its usual claw-scratch in the sky, reflected eerily in every tide pool on the shore of the lake. Luma crouched in the shadow of a tree, clutching her bloodied, throbbing shoulder. She could just make out in the darkness that her vest and tunic were shredded by whatever had wounded her.

Every bush seemed to shudder with unseen enemies; no puddle remained untainted with scarlet fluid. If she squinted, the girl was sure she could make out eyes peering back at her from across the sandy clearing. A dull buzz reverberated in her mind, which gradually grew to an ear-splitting screech.

She made to stand up, and all hell broke loose.

"Yo, Luma! Get up, lazy!"

For all the clinging fear of her dreams, she looked calm enough when she awoke, blinking awake slowly and sitting up. Her sleepy celadon gaze was met evenly with an irritated carmine one, which snapped her back to reality.

"Sol!" she gasped, clutching her blankets to her near-naked body in embarrassment, feeling her cheeks burn like logs in a fireplace. Her shock ebbed some, and she grinned sheepishly. "I overslept again...?"

Sol snorted, fixing his ivory hair into a ponytail.

"What do you think, Lu?"

"Sorry, sorry! Can you cover my shift for me?"

The boy raised an eyebrow, setting his satchel down on his coworker's bedside table and opening the window, letting in the light of the mid-morning sun.

"Going hunting again?" He asked slowly. "You know that's illegal."

"Please~, Sol?"

"Fine..." Sol sighed finally. "Take Leif with you, though. And don't get into any trouble. Your dad would kill me if anything happened to you out there."

He shifted his weight onto his right foot, running his fingers through his hair. When he turned around, Luma was fully clothed, sheathing her katana and adjusting the laces of her left hunting boot. Her hair, jet-black and dyed green at the ends, curled over the flat of her chest in a carless braid. She wore her usual outfit; a charcoal tunic, which was tied higher on the left than the right, and black, baggy sweats. Over her top was a black vest with a cyan insignia over either breast, which matched the teal swirls on her fingerless gloves and single hunting boot. Under the whole outfit and over her right foot was a length of white fabric, which could easily have been filched bandage or gauze.

"I'll be careful. Promise!"

The sun had long ascended the spiraling staircase of the sky when Luma wrapped her fingers around the rusty hilt of her blade and slid the weapon from its sheath, which bumped silently against her left thigh. She tossed the blade from hand to hand, then let it rest loosely in her upturned right palm.

A notch-eared, taupe-pelted creature crouched at her side, the curved blade of a sickle clenched tightly between its twisted jaws. The only word that described Leif was ugly. He scarcely looked like the sweet little puppy Luma made him out to be, despite the little yellow ribbon tied around his neck.

"Pollywiggle." she noted after a moment, tightening her grip on her sword. The creature sat directly under the tree where Luma and Leif were hidden. "I've got this one."

Her muscles were bunched like a coiled spring, ready to release, when a violent snarl shook the air. A blue and white wolf came hurdling through the brush, flanked hastily by a larger, green and ivory dog in similar armor. Leif bristled beside Luma, who almost fell out of the tree.

"Those mutts are from the capital." She muttered, looking away as the larger dog leaped at the Pollywiggle, cutting its shocked cry short. "Damn...I didn't wanna have to fight..."

"Then don't."

Before Luma could see who had spoken, something heavy collided with her forehead. This time, the branch swayed under her weight, and she fell from her perch, feeling her right sleeve catch something as she fell. She hit the ground a second later, sending shockwaves of pain bolting up and down her right shoulder. When she forced her eyes open, she realized that her arm was bleeding heavily.

Leif wasn't in much better shape. The two dogs from the capital had him backed against the tree that he had just been hiding in. His flank and muzzle were slashed, and he moved with a limp.

Panicked, Luma reached for her left glove, trying desperately to tug it off. A carefully stung knife struck her other hand away, though. She gave one final, enraged scream before blacking out.