Identity quest 14.
it was a very dark place with a blue carpet, only illuminated by butterfly lamp on an empty desk with a old...phone, if memory serve, and the light of a broken clock looming over the smashed and collapsed remains of some mechanical grating.
The rest of the room was covered in darkness...not the same that seem do infect Yuki, just your average darkness found in caves and other spooky places.
As for Navarre, he was back in human form, standing in the empty room like the worlds most awkward bean pole.
"What is this place." he wondered aloud. "Is this...is this what awaits those whom Shesha gobbles?"
"Yes and no." a high, wizened voice spoke from the previously empty chair. a...short, crooked man with a balding head, blood shot eyes and and a inhuman nose sat there as if he had always being there. "Welcome to the velvet room...or what's left of it."
"The...velvet room." Navarre whispered.
"It's a place set for those who, in this game, play's the role of the fool." The incredible being explained. "It was set by Philemon when Nyarlatotep threatened 'reality' over a bet with my...by Philemon himself."
"Ah...I see." Navarre nodded. "So...A fool. Am I one of those?" Navarre carefully asked. "And if I mayhaps know your good name sir and...what are you?" he wearily asked.
The extraordinarily creepy being inclined his head. "Ah yes, where were my manners. I am Igor, head attendant of the Velvet room and servant of Philemon." he greeted. "And you?"
" I am Navarre!" He presented himself as he puffed his chest. "The Second best Samurai of Mikado and a friend of Flynn." he paused. "The...actual best Samurai of Mikado."
"Hmm...is that so?" Igor asked with a tilt of his head. making Navarre very uncomfortable.
"Ah...well...I...maybe the rumors are exaggerating my power and prowess, but I am indeed a friend of Flynn." he admitted.
Over the few hours he had been with the true hero of Tokyo, some...camaraderie had been established. even id the undead hero was clearly more interested in keeping Yuki alive then to entertain poor old Navarre...still Flynn now saw the green ghost as less of an annoyance...and hopefully useful for gathering whatever was needed to maintain the holder of the apocalypse alive...
"Yes...yes, of course." Igor nodded to himself. "Now, as your other question..."
Navarre perked up at those words.
"You are not of the Fool Archana...you are death, the final one..."
"Because I am a ghost, isn't it." Navarre groused. petulantly crossing his arms over his chest.
"No...do you know the meaning of the fool and of death?" Igor asked instead.
Navarre crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "The fool is tied on one foot, dangling from that rope with no idea how he got there, but he is not disturbed by his position, for his journey in front is still filled with surprises."
Igor beamed. "Yes! I see you are familiar with tarot card."
Navarre puffed his chest. "Why yes! I have learned that art of reading from my nursemaid. Give me any deck and I will be able to foresee your future." Well, as long as it was from marseil, but he had a better sense of the future then most...sometime.
Igor chuckled. "Ah, but my future in not you to divine...for it is all in Gods hands." he spoke as he got up from his office chair with the help of his opulent cane. "Now tell me, what is the meaning of the final archana, the upright death, the thirteenth one."
Navarre crossed his arms again and began to pace around the dark, dilapidated room. "Death in Le tarot de marseil does not connote, well death. But the end of a cycle, it is also the Archana of rebirth and renewal. She remove obstacles and terminate whatever was sick and toxic. It is the end of suffering, of darkness. being the final archana, she stands at the back of the fool."
"please, elaborate on that, my friend."
"I will, Navarre gave an easy smile, feeling like the den at a lectern and loving every moment of it. " he deck restart as the fool on a journey with no real goal, but a start of a journey mean that another one had to end...I like to see death as the fools mother, loving well meaning, but not meant to remain with her child."
"Hmm...quite a curious way to see it. but i do see it as true also." Igor nodded wisely. "But...what if she's upside down?" He then asked.
"upside down, it does connote pain and destruction, worst still if it is with the tower and the hanged man. The reverse death is cold and cruel, it is the end of summer, the end of god time...the death of a good king...the fool leave his mother homes because she has expired."
"Yes...this is definitely the nature of reverse death." Igor spoke sadly.
"And the reverse fool is a foolish man going on a treacherous journey ill prepared for the task at hand, he is the nincompoop, the short sighted one. The one who will get himself into trouble out of his own volition while the upright one does have some wisdom of foresight." The ghost of the proud Samurai lectured on.
Unseen by him, Igor smiled.
"Yes...Indeed. And you my friend had the misfortune of being both that Fool...and death." The creepy being gave a meaningful sidelong glance to the youth. "If you want my opinion, your death could've been easily preventable, were you not blinded by lust."
Navarre had the decency to blush and look away.
"The young woman you shamelessly peaked at is...was an attendant here." Some sorrow entered his wizened voice. "She was called Elizabeth, her an her brother would maintain this very room." Igor spoke with some sorrow. "She left...to find a way to free the blue haired boy."
"Blue haired boy." There was only a single person who happened to fit this description."It wouldn't happen to be a certain Makoto Yuki?" Navarre asked a a tingle went up and down his spine.
"My favorite guest...too bad his fate turned sour. He is the one who...who 'sealed' Nyx with his...'soul.'" Form the sound of it, it was clear those words left a very bitter taste in his mouth.
like the taste one would experience when forced to speak a lie.
"But this...is but a great lie." Igor spat in a rare show of anger. confirming Navarre's hunch. " the soul is the person, and it,s not but a mere play thing...a battery to power a mere lock." The servant of Philemon turned around. "the one who made this world is the biggest fool of all! and the most powerful. Philemon...he is the one...the one who made it so." the gangling old man snarled."
"Yes, Nyx did mantion that this world was but a mere play for a powerful being." Navarre spoke with more then a little apprehension. "And Philemon is your-"
"Was...that man was my master. And I reject him." Igor emphasized by striking the floor with his cane.
"This...this shred of the demiurge has caused more pain and suffering then Nyarlatotep at his most powerful. He didn't want to stop at a single game...he wanted to keep playing." The wily old man closed his eyes and breathed trough his impressive nose.
"My dear Navarre...My master...is not this fiend. it is Yuki-Sama...my savior." Igor revealed once his composure had returned.
Navarre eyes opened wide, and his brows became an extra part to his pompadour. "really? why? Isn't he the but a mere child compared to you?"
Igor chuckled fondly." He may be younger then I...but Yuki...before he boarded this faithful elevator, left me a parting Gift, a book."
"Oh...literature." Navarre mumbled. The horror that those anti-ecclesial books had wrought to Mikado were still too close to him, memory wise.
"And what a piece of Literature it is!" Igor sighed as he folded his palms "The book, the Song of God holds within it's the Complete and absolute truth, the Goal of existence and...The Bhaktivedanta purport." The old attendant hobbled back to his chair, his long, spindly legs always bent at a right angle. "Yuki gave me...he gave me more then...then I deserve." He sat back down, his uncanny eyes bright with tears.
"He gave me the true purpose of my existence...and for this, we, of the velvet room, are eternally grateful."
"Now, we know our true purpose. I am not but a mere servant of a fake being of dubious morality but of Krishna, the Supreme personality of Godhead and his eternal consort Srimati-Radharani."
Navarre's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. "Wait...what?"
"Obliviously, I am not referring to the being possessing Yuki, but the real one. The one who is assisting the two Messiah from behind the curtain of his illusory potency. Ever present and yet discreet in his life altering action."
"But...But...God's Yehova!" Navarre covered his mouth, he was not supposed to speak the name of the lord out loud!
"Pah!" Igor gave this even wider, unsettling grin. "This yellow faced baboon has nothing on the real deal, my dear. He is but another puppet in Philemon's arsenal." he spat. "No, the real God, the source of everything is Krsna, and I chose to be His servant once more." Igor inclined his shiny head. "And this is were you come in, oh holder of death." He raised his pinprick eyes to the deceased young man.
Navarre swallowed thickly...'Is this what Flynn went trough? What will happen now?' First eaten by a dying Shesha, and now this. Really, unlife never got better for poor Navarre.
"Once again, you are the holder of the Arcana of death...the upright one."
"I...will stop a cycle then."
Igor grinned. "Yes...The cycle of pain Yuki has suffered ever since he was admitted to the game...and when the blue hermit took him for her own enjoyment. Losing and another powerful being as she escaped this cursed realm, Unwillingly returning Yuki to a game he should have long quite."
"I see..." Usually, Navarre would be puffing his chest over the prospect of being a Hero but...after what had happen to him and...Igor in General, the ghostly samurai would rather keep his pride in check.
Igor then casually manifested a deck of cards, shuffling them. "This world is in consent flux, good against the bad, the bad against the good...and when neither option prove satisfactory, then it is the middle path, the neutral one that gets taken." he gave a frightful smirk. "It's supposed to be the human path, the path of sanity free of Fanaticism and shackles, but to be honest, it is still the path of illusion, for they ignore the true neutral. Sri-Krishna...and instead chose to live like polished animals."
"Those souls keep suffering...and yet due to envy, will not even give a little of their thought to the supreme, the only one who can stop death...and thus, they eternally suffer the trough the cycle of birth and death, whipped by Maya-Devi and burning in the fire of lust." he shook his head. 'Nonetheless...This cycle cannot go one...not when a servant of God has been caught by this web."
Navarre's eyes grew wide, know knowing his new duty. "You...you want me to save Yuki and...err."
"And destroy Philemon." Igor spoke without his usual smile, his gravity was such that Navarre could not help but be reminded of the Elder Samurai Hope.
Still...what he had asked.
Navarre felt his hands quiver...He clenched them, and as always, began to fake it! Just like his dad told him.
"A-Ah! D-Defeating this Philemon sounds like a job w-worthy of m-my might!" He gestured to himself. "Obliviously, F-Flynn is in no position to be of help, but fear not, Igor, for I, Navarre! Will utterly defeat this false master of yours! Save Yuki and Rescue Flynn!" He belt out a laugh. "Huzzah! The world will finally witness the might of my Blade!" he struck a pose as he did his best to hide how terrified he truly was.
Really, if he would've called sick...as he had been the night before, the Ghostly samurai would not be in this situation.
But his father and grandfather had been blessed Samurai...and, he also had to be one…
His family had been pressured to give birth to another blessed soul...or else.
Navarre now knew he was not made for all this action and adventure… He was meant for fine art, painting scenery of bucolic nature as his dear wife, his favorite model would bring him a basket filled with warm bread, cheese and wine. His children waiting for him at home ready to babble about their day and what they had learned not...not…
Not a life of fighting.
Oh...if only he had remained ignorant of the horrors that lurked in Naraku, ignorant of man's demon-like propensity, of pest, famine and the pestilence that lurked under him…
But alas, his innocence had been lost, and now, he was once again tasked to fight.
"You are afraid." Igor spoke. "You doubt your strength and ability."
"n...No!" Navarre vehemently denied. But he knew to creepy being had him all read.
Igor spoke again."fear is born from the ignorance of one's true nature as the eternal soul, deathless and made of bliss." We are persons, spiritual in nature and not of this world of dull matter, a world filled with birth, death, old age and diseases." he took out a blue card decorated with a bi-colored mask. "But most Importantly... he is the one who does everything. for we the souls, are but mere witness of his feat, illusioned to believe that we are the doers, the masters." he flipped the card so that it may face Navarre."
"Death...Is the end of a cycle and the start of another. It is the end of a process only to have another start anew. It is unnatural for the eternal parcels of God, and yet, for the Devotee's of Krishna, the frightful end of all is but a mere maidservant awaiting to serve them as they all ultimately go back home."
Igor then sent the mystical card floating toward Navarre. On it was the number thirteen, and the image of an iron mask leering at him. 'death...Thanatos.'
"Now...I cannot leave this place, not yet at least." Igor spoke regretfully. "And thus, glorious samurai, I am in need of your help. Please, Accept the role of Thanatos, the Archana of death and…
" On the behalf of Elizabeth and Theodore...and myself also, break Makoto Yuki out of his hellish Cycle and lead him back home." Igor pleaded with folded palms.
Navarre looked at the card...He had no idea what would this new mission entail. Nor was he trusting this Igor not to be yet another lackey of the white.
And yet, for some reason...he trusted him. Something, something in his heart was telling him to take it...to take this chance and to wash away the stain he had made on his family line.
And maybe...he could repay his debt to Flynn.
He took the card...and he felt himself change, an awesome power coursed trough his whole subtle body. When her reopened his eyes, his appearance had change. He now wore a black cloak made of silver coffin lid held by a chain, a long fencing shirt made of solid darkness covered his chest and his legs were but mere cylinders hovering above the ground. His face was obscure by a full cowl, and a gruesome silver mask finished the look.
On his hip, a sharp sword hung…
"Huh...I tough I would be wielding a scythe." Navarre intoned as he looked at his new form in a mirror summoned by Igor. He looked quite dashing...but, He was not a fan of the lack of hair.
The mysterious ally gave a sinister chuckle. "I'm glad you like your new look Navarre, for it is the only way you can survive in Makoto-Sama's sea of personas.
Navarre barely had time to yelp as he felt dragged in the looking glass, really a portal to Makoto Yuki's broken psyche...a mental space over burdened by those caught in a net of illusion.
'Ryuji was right...this place is like a zoo.' Navarre tough as he slipped within the writing mass of darkness, unaffected and unbothered by the seemingly endless mask that dance in and out of it's surface. Some were screaming, a few were moaning, but most seemed serene.
But the Ex-green ghost didn't trust it...it seemed fake, as if someone had drugged them out of their collective mind.
"I don't like this place...it's too quiet. Like an osuary."
"It is a rather good description, my friend." spoke someone with a deep yet extremely pleasing voice.
He whirled about, his sword at the ready.
And fell face to face with...with...with…
what could only be the night mother, Nyx herself… the goddess was tied in barbed wires.
She was dressed in a feathered dress, a vase like crown rested above her head and her face was obscured by a white mask that only had a pair of hallow eyes and a wide grin. She was kneeling on a a pool of water, held down by sharp wires. And the chains that held her in place were tied to…
Navarre's breath...figuratively caught is his throat.
In the pools reflection, two young man could be seen where Nyx reflection should me, one had dark hair sleeked in the back, a beauty mark, and deep black eyes. He wore a white shirt and slacks, a long yellow scarf covered his neck and the unclothed body of...and otherworldly youth, with a flawless skin as pale as the moon.
Well...flawless, but not without wounds.
His arms and lower body were gone, leaving behind a jagged edge and his neck was not even connected to his body. And the only thing other then the handsome young man scarf covering him were barbed wires, those same barbed wires were the chains that held Nyx prisoner.
Then Navarre Noticed some marks on it's prisoner's body. They resembled the mark that Yuki...no, that this other scrawny youth with the divine being for servant sported.
One was on his forehead, his throat, in the middle of his breast, one above his navel, two more beside it...their shone with a golden glow that...scared him yet also seemed to beckoned the ghost like an old friend.
Nyx...and the handsome brunette finally noticed him...they're movement synchronized.
The brunette's face lit up. "Oh! It's you? Navarre, right?" Both spoke.
"How do you know who I am?" Navarre wearily asked. " I may be famous on Mikado for being one of Flynn...Helper, but I doubt you...no wait." He shook his head. "How in the world did you even recognize me?" A pressed his right hand to his heart.
"We spoke earlier, remember?"
Navarre stared.
"It's me, Mochizuka Ryuji." Ryuji greeted. "And this...is what's left of Yuki-kun." He sadly gestured to the broken youth bound in wires. " And if you's here, Navarre-Sama, as one of Yuki's persona, then it means that Shesha has eaten you."
Right...the beast had quite unexpectedly gobbled him up.
It was clear the divine beast had better taste then expected, too bad it had no idea how to express his appreciation for perfection was trough his mouth.
(Internally, Navarre knew fully well that the great snake had probably been aiming at Flynn. But, A usual, Navarre had gotten in the way...his only comfort was that the great Samurai of hope had been spared...somewhat.)
"By the way, I have to admit." Ryuji broke Navarre out of his rumination. " The Thanatos look fits you better."
"Oh thanks you." Navarre bashfully rubbed the back of his head. "Black does fit me, If I do say so myself." and then he paused, his intelligence catching up with what Ryuji had said.
"I used to be Thanatos."
"Yes...I was about to reach this conclusion."
A lull happened in the conversation. And Navarre broke it.
"You are Nyx...are you not." he addressed the upright position.
"My eyes are down here handsome...and yes, I...used to be."
another lull.
"I...I was sent by Igor to save Yuki...from you I supposed." Navarre unsheathed his sword.
He felt more powerful then before, and he had already die once, any other death then a shameful drowning would be no worst then a mosquito sting.
Ryuji-Nyx burst into laughter, his gales lasting for a good minute.
Navarre Bristles. "How dare you laugh at my awesome power." He loudly huffed.
This only caused the night mother to laugh a bit more. "Oh...Oh God….Oh Thank you Navarre, I never laughed this much since the time since Yuki-kun tried arts as a school subject." he sighed as he held the broken young man closer to him, his eyes brimming with tears of loving distress. "Those were...simpler and nicer time..."
"But...I'm not the one you have to save Yuki-kun from, my dear friend. And….I have vowed to my Yuki-kun that I would never bring the fall ever again." Ryuji spoke with a gravity that shook Navarre to the core. Then Nyx eyes softened. "I...I've made him suffer enough...and believe me Navarre, if I could free my Yuki from his predicament, then I would. But...unfortunately, I'm stuck here. And as long as the delightful Nyarly and his legion of ghost are in possession of his body...nothing else can be done."
Navarre took out his sword. "They, pray-tell, where is this Nyarly?" he sneered. "I have been give this form with a sword, this the demons shall be slain with it!" He declared, showing more bravery then he felt. "Igor called me Thanatos, death, and I shall be Nyarlatotep reaper! Mark my words!"
"I'd rather not." Ryuji wryly said, holding the broken body of Yuki closer, moving his deep blue hair out of his dull eyes.
"Why would that be? Once the beast is slain by yours truly, you and your friend shall be freed, same with Tokyo I supposed." Navarre ended as an after tough.
Nyx gave Navarre a hard look, and then sighed. "Alright...look around you."
Navarre did, trying not to shuddered at the squirming darkness that seemed to pervade every nook and cranny., numerous demons and humans floated in it's waves like bodies in a river. "I don't get it...I only see...the Styx river?"
Ryuji scoffed. "Oh, we wish it was. What you see around you is called an Utsuro, basically a big agglomeration of evil spirits. They are many, and yet they act as one!" Ryuji declared with a dramatic gesture. "and their only desires is to expand, to become bigger."
Suddenly, Navarre realized with horror that… "Were in him."
"Yes...the three of us, for some reason beyond me, can't 'merge' in the beast." Ryuji shrugged. "and personally, I would love to be able to destroy him,unfortunately, as long as my dear Yuki lives, all my powers as the Night Mother are sealed."
Instinctively, Navarre moved closer to the glowing Yuki, for the light that emanated from the marks on his body seemed to chase away Nyarlatotep.
He took a closer look at the naked young man. A mere stiff breeze would be all that was required to end his life.
"Don't you even dare." Nyx warned, his hollowed eyes boring on the modified samurai. " I value his life more...and the moment I merge in the Utsuro, the world at large is as good as gone." The night mother gravely warned. " I am a powerful ghost myself, and their only desires is to grow in strength. the moment I'm in...it's over."
"Then...what;s stopping the Utsuro from taking you over?"Navarre asked, more the a little anxious at the whole prospect.
"Yuki-kun...Or Yuki-kun's worshipable deity, Krishna."
Navarre gaped the action conceived by his silver mask quite efficiently. "Krishna? you mean...the real one or-"
"Yes, the real one...the one Igor aspire to worship and the one whom the fake is based on...you do know who He is...right?"
Navarre numbly nodded, his talk with Igor still fresh in his mind.
Nyx...and Ryuji gestured at Yuki, more specifically at the golden marks that adorned his body. "Those are His sacred symbol. basically, Yuki-kun belong to Vishnu...Krishna. and this this God id Protecting him."
Once again, Navarre's sight returned to the glowing marks adorning Yuki's body. "So...if I understand well, this God had given Yuki some sort of protection against the utsuro."
" Yes..." The Nyx side once again spoke. "Unfortunately, by the next full moon, Yuki's subtle body will be no more, and he will be rendered no better then a vegetable...and without him, Vishnu's protection will leave and, once my seal will break, the utsuro will have access to me."
"Oh my...that is quite the atrocious situation, isn't it?" Navarre tried not to let his hopelessness at the situation leak trough his voice. but the sight of the...of what remained of Yuki held by death personified as tears fell from Nyx eyes could break anyone resolve...especially since the blue haired boy was the only reason they still had an individuality.
Navarre moved closer to the looming form of Nyx. So close, the tall and foreboding night mother didn't seem all that scary. Mostly sad and depressed. It was hard to grasp that she and Ryuji were the same persons.
"I have no idea how it works." Ryuji admitted. "I just know Nyarly wants to challenge the real Krishna, and to do so, he's making himself bigger by amassing other souls trough Shesha."
"Oh...ah...so." Navarre grappled, being mesmerized by the movement of Nyx's feather dress and wings. "What should I do then?"
Once again, the youth shrugged. "Beat me...figuratively speaking." he added quickly. "But...I wouldn't mind some company while we wait for the apocalypse." he gave a warm and charming smile, a smile that was mimic by Nyx.
If Navarre didn't know who this woman in the black feather dress was, he would probably...maybe woo her Properly, would he be desperate enough.
"Alright...I...will admit that I do not know why Igor sent me here then, for it seems that we are and an impasse."
"Hhm-hmm." Ryuji hummed as he held the broken Yuki closer.
"So...now what?" Navarre asked, quite anticlimactic to Ryuji.
"We could talk." the brunette proposed.
"Talk...about what?"
"Well, let's start about our death!" Ryuji joyfully proposed. "I jumped off the moonlight bridge and my scarf got stuck on one of the steal beam. How about you?"
Behind his newly acquired mask, Navarre made a face… and then he sighed as he sat beside Nyx, letting the light of the mark of Vishnu envelope him like the protective embrace it was.
"Alright, what's up with that face Mukhi?" Radha purred from the top of the closet in their shared room in cafe Florida. "Yer kids back, he's a Devotee and an old friend of yours and sri-Krishna's giving us an adventure with demons and angels to boot! Why so worried?"
Mukhara, who was lying on the bed, her body devoid of prosthetic sighed as she sat up. "We killed a major player."
"Big deal, Shame-boy wanted our K.K's power. He got what he deserved." The Kasha growled.
Mukhara made a very discreet face. That man wanted more then that…
He wanted Radha's body and power also...
And he had held his sinful desires until Mukhara had no choice but to use the stick option of the art of diplomacy.
"I wished it would've ended differently. Now, his son is truly an orphan, the yakuza's he was controlling have no authority and…" She sighed, now wishing for a pair of hands to drag on her face. "He Bhagavan, please take my worries would you."As she spoke those words, she felt her headache and fear leave her.
"Feeling better?"Radha asked with a cat smirk.
"Yeah…" she breathed in an out, remembering that she was not the doer and that everything was in God's hand. And that God, Krishna was Bhakta-vatsala, or had great affection to his devotee's. 'Thank you my lord, sorry to be such a burden on you...i should be stronger then that.'
Of course, the Lord was also knew to be uncontrollable unless one was equipped with the rope of pure love, a rope Mukhara didn't have.
She felt some divine amusement from He who dwell in everyone heart. no mater what happened, everything would be fine.
she then turned her attention to five room over, listening to her son bringing Hallelujah up to speed about the entire situation. It helped that his other aunt of sort, Mandodari was awake and willing to show them around the once proud city of Montreal.
Oh, it was still a decent city, but with all the corruption and the the mess they had made with the roads, it's down town area had fallen into disrepair and the city's economy had taken a hit. But the temple was still doing fine despite it all and the farm was booming.
She could hear trough the five room, the unmistakable loud voice and french cannonade accent of her Godsister. She spoke to the two youth about anything and everything that happened in north America.
Mukhara could have contacted Uttara, for she had also helped Mukhara raised her son...and she had also helped the bereft mother, for she had also lost her first brood. But she had the feeling that her son and ex boyfriend needed to see a normal vanilla human.
And after that… Her Kripa turned the conversation on the subject of his relationship with the other youth, and the Saintly hermit could only pray her son would do it firmly yet tactfully.
No, she was not a...well she was somewhat opposed...but not due to the nature of said relationship. for it would make her the worst of hypocrites...it was just that Kripa's desire and Hallelujah desire were the complete opposite, and thus she knew friction would happen between the two lest the orphaned son of Shamezahya somehow desired to join the ranks of saintly man and turned his corrupted love towards Krishna.
which, from what she could hear, was not likely.
But she needn't worry, for her son gently and expertly spoke to the young man, opening his heart and...asking for keeping it as friend only with no benefit.
He was better as a friend anyway...they could still cuddle tough. and kisses on the cheeks were still allowed.
'Good, he knows his way around negotiation.' she sighed. Really, Hallelujah was not an inherently bad person...he just wanted to exploit those around him for his own pleasure. something that was sadly all too common in the material world.
"Mukhi?" Radha ventured as she jumped on the bed. " I spoke to some evils spirit ere and there...real one, not the mobs."
"and?"
"And the whole place is in a turmoil…"
"Hmm…" she closed her eyes. While she was an 'immortal' sennin, exhaustion after a full day of fighting was still a very pressing reality. "M'not surprised…"
"yeah...basically, they know the guy controlling the fake Vasudeva." Radha growled. "It's an honest to God Utsuro...a big one to."
"and?"
"And the things attracting them all...they don;t care bout salvation, they just want to grow stronger and take over our sweet Krishna."
Mukhara chuckled. Knowing full well how it would go for them.
The Lord was aloof from the atheistic demons. And nothing short of pure, unalloyed love could reach him. hatred and envy meant nothing for the supreme master of countless universe and the Son of Yashoda.
It was still a legitimate way to meditate on him...even if it would only give them impersonal liberation. 'At least those actually remember and think about God...it's better then most of the population really.'
She felt Radha (in cat form) curl beside her, using Mukhara as a pillow. The hell cat's soothing purrs lulling the hermit into sleep, her warm familiar and soothing. the knowledge of her son's safety and general happiness also didn't hurt.
The Ancestral Vaishnavi fell asleep the moment her own God given progeny succumb to Nidra-devi's spell. Thanking Sri-Krishna again and again as she drifted to the best sleep she had ever since that dreadful day.
Krishna-Kripa groaned...once again, he had a dream that he had been Akira, Skin was waking him up.
And once again, His dear Krishna had shaken him off from the dream by showing Kripa some Places in Vraja and some of his friends.
and girlfirends...
In this dream that was reality...Kripa was not Kripa...and Krishna was not God.
He was...the carefree prince of Vraja, the darling son of king Nanda and his all auspicious wife, Srimati Yashoda.
He was the little brother or Balaram, the best friend of Sridhama, Sudhama, Subala and Madhumangala...and... and the Lover of the Vraja-Devis headed by Srimati Radharani…
The source of all love, the supreme goddess...
Oh, how he wished to be back to this blessed reality, in a body suitable for making his Krishna Happy. and in which...
in which the only rules and regulation was Love, the reason was love and Love was the ultimate and unending reward. personal reward...
'it's just a dream...I still have a long way to go until it can be my reality.' Kripa reminded himself of this fact. One could not enter this realm while still keeping his false ego...let alone a male Ego.
Still...what would he not do to have Krishna with him again.
He languorously stretched, feeling his joints crack and pop into place. His back was more painful then usual, he was hungry and he needed to pee.
'This body's a place of misery.'Krishna-Kripa tough as he removed Hoshi's arm from around his waist, his firmly friend-zoned flame had a crazy day yesterday, so the Greenette let him have that and nothing more.
It was not the same as Having his Krishna close, but knowing that Hoshi was a little parts and parcel made it a little better...like, atomically tolerable.
He grabbed his toiletry and made his way to the bathing facilities. Unlike in the Kinnshicho guild, he didn't have the privilege of a private shower, not that he minded anymore.
'let the world know I'm not human...oh Crap, there's Skin.' He balked at the sight.
The heavily scared man was waiting for his turn, he held his basket of toiletry under his arms, he wore but an old cotton bathrobe and he kept pressing on his phone at regular intervals, his eyes closed.
As he came closer, Krishna-Kripa realized that the oldest and unsinkable hunter was chanting the Maha-Mantra under his breath, using his phone as a counter.
Some how, this sight release Kripa from his anxiety and bliss entered his heart... Krishna had yet another soul at his divine service. a very deserving too. And thus he fearlessly situated himself beside Skin, taking out his phone and doing the same.
Well...at first, he greeted Mai and Medusa, asking them how they had slept well and if they needed anything.
Mai was fine, Medusa had some trouble adjusting. But nothing major…
Oh...and Plenty of SMS from Asahi begging Krishna-Kripa to come back to Kinnshicho. Dad was just an old grump, as always...and how she could definitely help Mukhara and Radha, she just needed a smartphone and her angel again.
The next SMS was hinting that, would Kripa not complied, she would release the incriminating picture of that one night when he and Hoshi had broken into the licorice store and had gotten drunk and feisty.
Kripa clenched his jaw...this was his sister...she loved him, and he loved her. but with how she acted right now...it was hard to remember that fact.
"A macca for your thought." Skin interrupted his chanting. "won't go sing it on the roof if that's what your afraid about."
Krishna-Kripa sighed again.
"Girl problem?"
'Ah to hell with this...S'not like it can get any worst.'"Yeah, I contact Asahi ...she want's me to bust her out to help with the retrieval effort. Tried to black mail me too."When his adopted sister wanted something, nothing short of God's divine intervention could save Kripa from playing either the errand boy for her.
Now that he was away from his adopted Family...especially his sister, he now began to doubt if she ever saw him as something else then an attack dog and a weapon.
Maybe, at the beginning, she really saw Kripa as a big brother of a sort, same with the boss.
they had been raised together, and Mama-chi had loved and dotted on Nanashi and Asahi with equal love...as much as she could anyway.
and then...she fell sick.
she didn't get better...
Kripa had been there when she breathed her last...wanting to sing to her so that the scary man and their evil dogs would leave her alone...and not drag her ghost away with their noose.
as she slowly died...she begged Kripa to be a good boy, to listen to papa and protect Asahi.
and he did...even if it was to protect Asahi from a good scolding.
he was really regretting his decision at the moment.
Skin raised his mangled brows.
Kripa huffed as he crossed his arms. " Think she can dangle the 'If the rest of the hunters learn your not human, your gay, a filthy cross-dresser and your ugly crush on Manabu. they'll kick you out.' sorta shit and 'your the one who freed Krishna' and crap. Oh and don't get me started with Hoshi…" And his Krishna…
At least he knew where he and Krishna were standing right now. In the material world… that is.
Here...he was Krishna's servant...no, he was the servant of Krishna servant, nothing more...nothing less.
"I...Take you need to vent it out?" Skin proposed as he dropped his meaty hand on Kripa's very painful shoulder. He stifled a yelp of pain…
'I swear man...this bodies of piece of microwaved crap.' He choked from the inside of his mind, his mental voice strangled by the pain.
The whole thing took a but a moment, but it was all Skin needed to detect the problem. "Ah...bad back?" he asked as he removed his hands from the throbbing shoulder.
"Yeah...Fell's like I'm an old man…" Oh, he knew he was the eternal soul and thus was eternally youthful...but this body… 'Oh Krishna...Why did I left to enjoy this material world. What the hell was I thinking?'
"I don't doubt it, with all the shit you went trough over the past three day,s I would bet your feeling as old and shredded as I am." Skin kindly commented kindly.
"Yeah…" Kripa crossed his arms, and open the flood of all that happened in the past day.
some time later...he was done, and he felt...better, his mind cleared...he still missed his Krishna tough, but it was a type of pain that defeated all the pleasure in this lowly world.
"You know, I'm surprised you opened up to me like that." The scarred hunter commented after his shower. " I thought teens were more suborn then that."
Kripa scoffed. "I remember enough to know that acting all emo and closed up will only make it harder. I have problems, my life taking some turn I didn't expect, my…" He huffed… "Skin sir...is this...is this what entering adulthood feels like?"
"Nah, it's even more complicated kiddo." He could hear the smirk in Skin's mangled lips. "If you wanna talk some more about it, this old man can lend you an ear. I won't judge, I promise."
Kripa scoffed. "Bullshit." he cursed…
"Alright, I may judge you, but I won't condemn you." the mangled hunter reiterated. "How does that sound?"
"Better." Kripa conceded. Meanwhile Fujiwara walked in the shower room and stopped, turning to his long time partner. "Oh, Ken. Merkheba's sending some specialized force to help us out. Some blessed youth to slay Shesha and kill Kri-"
Anger filled Kripa like magma an erupting volcano.
"Ah...right." Fujiwara uncomfortably cleared his throat. "Well...the angels are sending reinforcement. And I also have to deal with the headless Kai." The leader to Tokyo readjusted his wording. Knowing of Kripa's nature, and his devotion. "Not sure what Hikaru's doing tough...but so far, they seemed to be holding their end of the
Skin sneered. "Let me guess, booberela will send us some wet behind the ears punk holding bibles and tooth picks."
"pretty much." Fujiwara confirmed with a smirk. "But I don't think well have to deal with those samurai for long, heard from some source that Shesha had been slain by one of Lucifer's Hell-cat."
"Oh, actually, that was Aunty Radha." Kripa interjected. He could still remember how the vicious Vaishnavi had fearlessly played with the smoldering snake as if he was but a mere string. "She called him an over-glorified tepid 'spicy' ramen bowl."
At those words, Mister Fujiwara and Ken burst into laughter.
After his shower and a long talk with Ken, Krishna-Kripa felt much better.
He quite liked the old hunter, previous fake life of not. There was just something about the old and scarred warrior that made him at ease…
and then he realized...that was Ken. The young boy who had developed a crush on him, the spear wielder and the one who's persona, Kalanemi, had been instrumental to help and…
Defeat Nyx?
'No...Nobody managed to even lay a scratch on them. It was Yuki-kun who managed to stop them on the moon.' And then he paused and considered what he had just said versus what he had learned over decades of Devotional service.
'No...I don't think Yuki reached the moon. This...this must've been yet another play of a hermit.' He would need to talk to his mom about it, she would know.
Never the less, it felt good to see this young boy again after so may years.
"Ken?" He addressed the elder hunter by his real name. "You know, 'Krishna's' Yuki-kun."
Ken sighed as he tying up his boots "yeah...I know. You told me yesterday."
"What do you plan to do?" Kripa asked, flexing his painful back as if trying to pull his skin open. He could feel something squirm under his shoulder flesh...it was creepy.
"Well." Ken began as he began applying healing cream to his face. "I trust your mom...I always thought this whole nuked world was a damn hoax."
Kripa raised his brows as he stared at the now much older boy. "really?"
"Oh yeah, had a knack for finding those odd glitches in this world, and c'mon kid, all demons act the same, speak the same and look the same" he turned to Kripa fully. "Even in the animal kingdom no ones a perfect copy of the other guy."
"How about in the insect kingdom?"
"No two butterfly wings are the same, and even ants have their individuality Aegis." Ken smirked as he put his boots on. " Now...I wouldn't mind getting out of this place. Don't know how the outside world look like anymore, but it can't be worst then demon infested Tokyo and the plucked chicken from above."
Kripa chuckled at the image of seraphic chickens.
"And...if I have the chance to save our leader…" the old hunter spoke wishfully. "well, God willing."
The green haired son of Mukhara smirked. "yeah...God willing." he took his smart phone out. "Oh shoot, were late for the meeting." Not that he'd really want to meet Merkheba's goon's anyway.
He still remembered his time as Ananda-Rupini, the robotic Vaishnavi and the nightmare that was facing any type of fanatic.
Those who followed YhVh...the so called angels fitted perfectly with the worst of the Fanatics. Only Mai was not so bad...for some obscure reasons that may or may not have to do with how freaking Attractive the real Lord was.
Were was he? Right...he didn't look forward to meeting the crusaders.
In the main room of Cafe Florida, a group of youth no older then eighteen stood to attention. They were dressed win white armor, a white tabard emblazoned with a cross. They held speared and sword, and they held an air of pride and self importance. Their leader, a freakishly tall brunette surveyed his surrounding from the top of his nose, it was clear he saw those elder hunters as no better then worms.
Kripa already disliked him.
The leader of the group noticed the small family plus Skins. And sneered.
"Are those motley gadabouts more, what they call them, hunters?"
It took everything in Kripa's self control not to sneer back. 'Oh Krishna...It's temporary, it won't last for long, Shehsa's already dead and…"
"It seems the people of Tokyo really are but a bunch of dawdler." the strange and snobby youth looked away. "Alarming, yes, but not unexpected."
"yeah, sorry 'bout that. Had a very...crazy few days so I had to cry in the Bathroom for longer then usual." Krishna-Kripa drawled, not hiding the fact of what he did this early morning. "Skin here was waiting or me to finish. Sorry to have kept you waiting sir?"
The young man stared at the green haired youth. Staring at his hair and eyes.
"what? You never saw a Dryad before?" Kripa shot back.
"I thought Dryads were beautiful female tree spirit." one of the more scholarly samurai whispered to his colleague, a young woman with strawberry blond hair
"Anyway, my name is…" He turned to his mother and Nozomi, who gently shook their heads. "Kripa, but my hunter designation is Aegis." He greeted with folded palm. "And you?" He asked as politely as he could muster.
The young man with the spear puffed his chest. "It is known to you that I am Gaston, the captain of the Crusaders."
Krishna-Kripa tried not to cringe, he still remembered Krishna's dislike of the crusade.
"And how about those other who also seemed to bear the mark of the beast." He sneered. His eyes never leaving Kripa's forehead.
'Right...my Tilaka.' Unlike his aunt and mother's, his mark of Vishnu was indelible, and no amount of washing could remove it.
To be honest, he had no idea how no one noticed it yet.
"Mark of the beast?-" Radha began before Mukhara interrupted her. it seems that their skin had darkened under the sun, leaving behind the auspicious tan lines.
"yes, we do have a forehead mark similar to that of...Him. But the youth you desire to slay is neither your objective nor our master." She spoke with undeniable authority.
"Oh? And whom might you be to speak so boldly?" Gaston asked with a raised eye brow.
"I am The ancient emperor of the glorious land of the rising sun, Toyotomi no Mikoto." she greeted. With folded palm. "I am here to protect my land from the impostor, the so-called Krishna and the one who control him."
"Oh? And why should I believe you?"
"Why should I believe that the spear you hold is not a counterfeit?" Mukhara countered with a humorous smile.
Meanwhile, Kripa's stomach growled, he was famished. Unwilling to remain close to the young adult, he went to the bar. 'Oh man, I hope Mom cooked again.' He always had this nagging fear that Mukhara had forgotten about him.
There, at the counter was a steaming bowl of Kithidi...it was the same color as yesterday, but to Kripa, it meant nothing.
This was cooked by his mom, Offered to his Krishna with love...and he would honor it with every fiber of his being.
"Fujiwara sir?" he called to the most powerful man in Tokyo. "Do you knew were I can wash my hands without having to go to the other side of the building?"
The cig-smoker grinned around the death stick and open the bar-gate. "You can wash them here...your more then a customer anyway."
"really?" Krishna-Kripa could believe his ears.
"Sure, your the son of Prince Shotoku, this makes you the prince of Japan practically."
Kripa made a face. "Ah...just...forget about that...I'm prince of nothing." Well, he would be considered a queen sometime, but he doubted his mother would let him.
A Vaishnava had to act like the supreme example in society, and dressing up as a woman was not something they did save for plays.
He washed his hands, dried them and returned to his cooling happy yellow sacred porridge.
He sat on the floor and began eating the bountiful and wholesome meal, savoring each and every handful with all care and attention.
"Amazing!" He suddenly heard. " First he cleanse his hands and now, this unclean one is eating like a child on the floor. Fascinating!"
Interrupted in his sacred meal, Kripa turned around to owlishly stared at the Samurai. "Huh?"
Now noticed the dark haired crusaders looked at Kripa with fear and...fascination.
He didn't look all that interesting outwardly, didn't even wore glasses.
Both youth stared…
"You hungry?" Krishna-Kripa asked, he knew there was more kitchary in the over, he could smell it over the stench of Fujiwara's cigarette.
The crusader looked at him, unsure as to how to react to the invitation.
"Hey...I know I'm not human, but I don't want you to stand there staring at me while I eat."
"AH...oh ah…" The young man became flustered.
"Sit down bud…" then Kripa realized. "Oh...Yeah I'm...Let's sit a table, I just...you know, spontaneously fell back on a old habit of mine." he awkwardly mumbled as he got up with his bowl and sheepishly went to a table.
He remembered some of his time as Aigis, Ananda-Rupini.
In this robotic body, eating was nit an option since her mouth only went as far as the back of her throat, the rest was wires and her voice box.
Never the less, she loved to be with her with her Hare Krishna friends back at the temple while they ate. They would sit on the floor and they would try to describe how Prasadam tasted.
He remembered Raseshvari's confusing description on a bitter melon stew made with coconut milk. And Dhania-Sakhi devi Dasi's poetic waxing about the transcendental nature of Prasadam.
Krishna-Krpa blushed as he remembered her words, directly Quoting Sri-Chaitania Mahaprabhu, the most Form of Radha-Krishna.
He returned to the present time, and picked up a table away from Gaston...but the young man stopped him.
"No, it is quite fine. I simply find you fascinating." He spoke with clear enthusiasm, making Kripa feel more uncomfortable then his official breakup with Hoshi.
Speaking of which, there he was. Walking out of the dormitory. His eyes were still reddish, and his illusion of humanity was not as strong as it should.
"Yo, Hosh...you look like ah...like frozen demon meat."His mother was nearby, he could not curse.
Hoshi grunted as he pulled a wicker chair and sat beside him, curiously leering at the curious crusader.
"Don't mind him, he never saw a male Dryad before." He commented as he returned to his cooling Prasadam. "There should be more in the stove in the back, take as much as you want Hosh."
"Eh...maybe." he clicked his lips. "Say...d'you think Fujiwara had some reds with him?" the nephilim asked instead.
Krpa gave him a look. "Hoshi...you don't need them to live."
His friend sighed. "yeah...I was just, you know...wondering if maybe I could have a pick me up after the absolute crap I went trough yesterday." he grumbled as Mai served him a bowl of kitchary. "Oh hey thanks."
"Don't mansion it."
Kripa heard the random crusader gasp at the sight of the so called holy being. And Mai, now wearing a beautiful blue sari to complement her wings tried to hide from his gaze. As to defuse any more awkward situation, Kripa thanked the angel ans proceeded to have a normal conversation with her.
The rest of his breakfast happened without much conversation save for the sound of grateful eating and appreciation.
Eventually, they polished their third and second bowl as Gaston argued with his mother and Fujiwara about how it was impossible for a creature of Darkness to have killed Shesha.
Kripa could've interjected, but at the same time...nah, he didn't feel like arguing with a prick.
"So...what;s the plan leader?" The nephilim asked as he leaned back as far as the chair would allow him..
"Well...we try to enter the Tsukiji to get our friends out." Kripa conveyed in a covered manner. "With Shesha's dead...it's should be easier to get it ri-"
The Shesha radar blared, Mukhara screamed in surprise and pain and Kripa just knew this day would also be an interesting one.