The frozen wind blew her ivory hair into her eyes, Ciaran wasn't truly sure what was happening. One minute, Artorias was being a perv and touching her ass, before getting dick-punched, then the sky tore open, and THEN she was yanked through a really weird portal, and FINALLY dumped onto this frozen floor in the middle of absolutely no where.
"This is the last time I ever get near Artorias. Something weird always ends up happening." Ciaran thought to herself, wrapping her dark blue cloak against her small frame. "Where the hell am I?"
Looking around, she could hardly see a thing through the storm. Ice shards blistered her face, and sealed her eyes, which he had to wipe periodically. "Ah, balls..."
A tap on her shoulder whizzed her around,instinctively drawing her tracers, surprised she still had them.
"Show yourself!" she shouted over the howling wind. A strange creature, seemingly made out snow, stood before her. "What the hell has the Painted World pulled out of its ass now?"
The snow-man slumped his arms, then clicked his fingers in realization. The creature pulled at his finger, and in an instant, he formed a real body, cloaked in black, katana hanging loosely on his waist.
"Bouncer!" Ciaran cheered, sheathing her swords. Bouncer gave a silent wave, before doing a "Joy" gesture.
"Heehee!" Ciaran laughed, and joined in with his cheering. " You know a way out of this storm?"
Bouncer nodded while beckoning, and led them towards a hill, storm easing up, allowing them to talk, or gesture, properly.
"Starting to think I was the only one out of here." Ciaran confessed. Bouncer waved both his hands, reassuring her, before placing them on his hips, showing some silent anger. "What?"
Bouncer just stared, hands on hips.
"Oh, right." Ciaran murmured, and took a deep breath. "I'm very sorry, so sorry, for calling you an asshole at the meeting earlier."
Bouncer looked at her for a few seconds, before nodding and accepting her apology. The pair continued up the mountain, and finally, out of the storm. "Sooo... where are we?"
Bouncer halted, and started to do motions with his hands. First, he pointed above him, Ciaran got that almost immediately.
"Sky?"
Bouncer nodded, the next part was a little trickier to decipher. For starters, Bouncer drew his uchigatana.
"Skyward Sword?"
Bouncer shook his head, then pointed at a specific part.
"Ah, Sky edge." Ciaran assured herself. Bouncer shook his head again. "I don't get it."
Bouncer sheathed his sword, and turned around, pointing at his ass. "Sky ass?" Ciaran guessed, smiling. Bouncer shook his head, clearly getting irritated. With his finger and thumb, he made a ring around his ass crack. Ciaran sniggered, containing her outcry while watching a mute man make weird gestures. Weird, suggestive gestures, at that.
Bringing his hand up, he pulled down his face mask, and placed his tongue around the gap, in a licking motion. "Eww, that's fucking disgusting, Bouncer!"
Half-closing his eyes, Bouncer pulled his sleeves up, and began packing snow into his hand. Ciaran looked on in awe, as within minutes, Bouncer had exquisitely hand crafted a car wheel, made out of snow and some twigs. Bouncer began pointing at the part in the middle
"Wheel? Car?" Ciaran guessed with a smile. Bouncer grew red with irritation, before pointing angrily at the centre part, putting finger dents into the snow. Ciaran stared at it for a while, before snapping her fingers. "I think I got it!"
Bouncer's eyes lit up, his hands shook with excitement.
"It's a Nissan Skyline GTR, right!?" Ciaran squealed. Bouncer stared at her, then planted his face into the ground, shoulders jerking with each silent sob. Ciaran smiled, then shook her head.
"It's Skyrim." Ciaran said quietly. Bouncer looked up at her slowly, eye twitching. "I worked it out ages ago." Bouncer was now standing, looking skyward, hand on face. "Wanna know how I did?"
Bouncer winced at her suspiciously. Ciaran tilted her head to the side. Looking her direction, Bouncer's eyes widened as he saw the giant, stone fortress in front of him. Banners of a blue, roaring bear decorated it's otherwise sparse black walls.
'I believe that's Windhelm." Ciaran announced proudly. "I mean, I should know. I have clocked over, like what, two thousand hours..." Ciaran smiled proudly, but frowned when he saw Bouncer shaking his head veryslowly. "What?"
Bouncer huffed silently, then stuck a pose that immediately told Ciaran what he thought of her.
"How DARE you accuse me of being casul!?" Ciaran shouted. "I simply enjoy a game that others don't. Why should you ill judge me on a game that you don't like!?" *Cough*VaatiVidya* Cough*
Bouncer shook his head again, not buying her reasons.
"Oh come on! It's not like I write erotic fanfiction about getting boned by Brynjolf and Ulfric, at the same time!" Ciaran added, cheeks reddening, obviously guilty of such horrific crimes.
Bouncer shook his head, but gave up arguing with a Skyrim Fan-girl. The pair decided it was best to enter the city. Bouncer was grateful that, despite having the fan girl lead him, still had some sort of eye candy in front of him at his convenience.
He simply loved architecture. The buildings were old and decrepit, but gave off an air of nostalgia and history. The streets were cobbled and worn, but still did their duty faithfully.
"Hey, hear about that Arentino kid?" a commoner asked another.
"Yeah, heard he was doing something... weird in that house of his." the other answered.
"They say he's trying to summon the Brotherhood."
"Hey hey! Keep it down, don't wanna start a panic, do we?" The two men continued talking, even as they turned the corner. Bouncer and Ciaran stood quietly, pondering the conversation they just eavesdropped.
"Arentino, where have I heard that before...?" Ciaran wondered. Bouncer cocked his head to the side. "Stop looking at me like that! Just because I like the game, doesn't mean I remember everything."
Despite that last statement, Ciaran had led them to a house that CLEARLY had Arentino Residence painted on it's sign. "Oh, what a coincidence!" she tried to shrug it off. Bouncer was mute, not retarded.
Ciaran, red faced, tugged at the door handle, but no good. "Got a lockpick?"
Bouncer shook his head. He reached behind him, and unhooked a ring of keys. With a couple of tries, he found the right key, and unlocked the door. The pair of assassins sneaked in without a hitch. The house was damp and dark, and an eerily red glow could be seen from the top of the stair case. Bouncer tapped Ciarans shoulder, then shrugged.
"Aw, you ain't scared, are you Bouncer?" she teased. "I bet Shiva must have protected you all the time, with his big, tanned, muscular arms..."
Bouncer shook his head while promptly shoving Ciaran forward, who was now in hysterics.
Bouncer, who was sick of Ciarans shit already, walked up the stairs, and turned towards her, arms spread out.
"Oh sorry, hard man." Ciaran teased again. "Trying to impress me or something?"
Bouncer held his stomach in a silent laugh. Pointing at Ciaran while mockingly flopping his left arm. Ciaran raised her eyebrow.
"I don't get it."
Bouncer looked skyward again, then turned around the corner.
"Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child unto me. For the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear..."
The ninja halted, and felt mortified as this strange, disturbed child who was missing a My Chemical Romance shirt. It would clearly fit, since he is surrounded by human body parts and a skeleton. And blood. Seriously, It would've completed the set. The child turned towards Bouncer, who was surprised that the kid wasn't wearing eye-liner either.
"It worked!" he cheered. "It finally worked!"
"What worked?" Ciaran asked as she turned the corner.
"The Black Sacrament." The kid answered. Ciarans smile widened, something akin to Dr. Evil from Austin Powers.
"Aw, the little kid would like someone dead?" Ciaran tenderly said as she crouched down to the boys level. "Tell me, I'll sort it for you. Trust in me."
The boy smiled some more, but then frowned and grew sad as he re-accounted his story. Bouncer tuned out, unable to bear the sappy sob story of how is mother died, how he lost his house, and how abusive his carer was. Bouncer hated kids, in all honesty.
Ciaran, however, was the opposite. She placed a tender hand on the boys shoulder, listening to his whiny voice tell her of his sob story. Just to put up appearances, she even shed one tear, ONE. Bouncer shook his head. Such a casul.
"Old Grelod, the "Kind", you say?" Ciaran asked. The boy confirmed it with a nod of the head. "Well, now, I think we can do something about that..." she said, eerily gleeful, before she laughed.
And Laughed.
Laughed till Bouncer was sure he would never be sane, ever again.
