*************Chapter Three*************
She Rides in Beauty, Like the Night. . .
***************************************
She had long, insanely black hair, braided loosely down her back. Long
strands of it had been left out of the braid, and these hung about her
face, as if they were trying to steal away her beauty, but nothing ever
could. Her eyes were black, and almond-shaped, heavily slanting
upwards. Her eyelashes were so thick that it gave the impression that
her eyes were naturally outlined in black. As she rose, shedding the
remnants of her disguise, you saw that she was lean but strong. She was
dressed in a man's clothes, all in black, adorned with silver.
Surprisingly, she prepared to fight again.
"Come now Tamahome, we haven't finished this yet. Are you... afraid to
fight a girl?"
Her voice was husky but smooth and sly, like the Gods whispering their
fantasies in the wind. Her voice and mischievous smile teased you, but
drew you near; you could tell from it that she liked to ride the wind,
free and wicked. She was positively devilish. The worst part about her
was that she was perfect, so beautiful, but you knew that all you could
do was stare; she was incapturable.
(At least, that was partially true. ^_~)
Tamahome stood with his fellow warriors, all of them completely
shocked.
"I...I can't... fight you," Tamahome managed to say. There was an aura
about her, alluring, capturing, positively killing the onlooker, because he could only look.
She walked over to them. "Fine. I don't care if you're a coward. Now,
how about a real fire, hmm?"
She built one up and broke the trance she had begun by warning them
that she could still use the sword, if they didn't stop staring.
As they sat around the fire, she introduced herself.
"My name is Nousatsu. I grew up in the mountains with my father. Now I
ride where I please."
Chichiri, wanting to be pleasant and polite, began to speak, "My name
is Chichiri, no da, and this is-"
Nousatsu stopped him. "No need Chichiri. I have been watching all of
you for almost a week. Let me test my knowledge of you. Chichiri, you
are the wandering monk, judging from your kasa. You are good to have
around in a tight situation, not to mention that your supreme knowledge
of sorcery helps support that. Mitsukake, you are a healer, a
physician. You seem... lonely."
She added quietly, "I can sympathize," but Mitsukake heard.
She continued in her usual tone. "You are loyal and respectful.
Tamahome, the brave, fearless, and reckless fighter." She added with a
soft laugh, "Cute too." Miaka narrowed her eyes in hate.
Nousatsu's wicked smile faded to fake, and she sighed with disapproval
as she turned to face Miaka. "Miaka, what can I say that I haven't
already? No more need for tears." Miaka was aghast. How dare she!
"Tamahome might tear off some more of my clothing. Tasuki would like
that wouldn't you, Tasuki?"
Obviously, the smile had returned, and was even more wicked than
before. She winked in his direction. Tasuki, for once, didn't have a
quick retort.
"This one seems to be the most powerful of all of you. And part of a
mountain gang, by the look of the way he dresses. Now this one's fiery,
don't you agree Miaka?" She said.
Tasuki smiled smugly. "Yeah, I know I'm hot damn sexy," he thought.
"That's all I can say, judging from the fact that I haven't met the
other three seishi."
"But there is one thing that I haven't been able to completely figure
out," She continued.
"Miaka has a 'thing' with either Tamahome or Tasuki, and I am
determined to figure out which one Miaka has her eye on."
Nousatsu turned to the other two seishi. "I can have a chance with the
other one this way." She laughed softly, and then turned to Miaka.
She Rides in Beauty, Like the Night. . .
***************************************
She had long, insanely black hair, braided loosely down her back. Long
strands of it had been left out of the braid, and these hung about her
face, as if they were trying to steal away her beauty, but nothing ever
could. Her eyes were black, and almond-shaped, heavily slanting
upwards. Her eyelashes were so thick that it gave the impression that
her eyes were naturally outlined in black. As she rose, shedding the
remnants of her disguise, you saw that she was lean but strong. She was
dressed in a man's clothes, all in black, adorned with silver.
Surprisingly, she prepared to fight again.
"Come now Tamahome, we haven't finished this yet. Are you... afraid to
fight a girl?"
Her voice was husky but smooth and sly, like the Gods whispering their
fantasies in the wind. Her voice and mischievous smile teased you, but
drew you near; you could tell from it that she liked to ride the wind,
free and wicked. She was positively devilish. The worst part about her
was that she was perfect, so beautiful, but you knew that all you could
do was stare; she was incapturable.
(At least, that was partially true. ^_~)
Tamahome stood with his fellow warriors, all of them completely
shocked.
"I...I can't... fight you," Tamahome managed to say. There was an aura
about her, alluring, capturing, positively killing the onlooker, because he could only look.
She walked over to them. "Fine. I don't care if you're a coward. Now,
how about a real fire, hmm?"
She built one up and broke the trance she had begun by warning them
that she could still use the sword, if they didn't stop staring.
As they sat around the fire, she introduced herself.
"My name is Nousatsu. I grew up in the mountains with my father. Now I
ride where I please."
Chichiri, wanting to be pleasant and polite, began to speak, "My name
is Chichiri, no da, and this is-"
Nousatsu stopped him. "No need Chichiri. I have been watching all of
you for almost a week. Let me test my knowledge of you. Chichiri, you
are the wandering monk, judging from your kasa. You are good to have
around in a tight situation, not to mention that your supreme knowledge
of sorcery helps support that. Mitsukake, you are a healer, a
physician. You seem... lonely."
She added quietly, "I can sympathize," but Mitsukake heard.
She continued in her usual tone. "You are loyal and respectful.
Tamahome, the brave, fearless, and reckless fighter." She added with a
soft laugh, "Cute too." Miaka narrowed her eyes in hate.
Nousatsu's wicked smile faded to fake, and she sighed with disapproval
as she turned to face Miaka. "Miaka, what can I say that I haven't
already? No more need for tears." Miaka was aghast. How dare she!
"Tamahome might tear off some more of my clothing. Tasuki would like
that wouldn't you, Tasuki?"
Obviously, the smile had returned, and was even more wicked than
before. She winked in his direction. Tasuki, for once, didn't have a
quick retort.
"This one seems to be the most powerful of all of you. And part of a
mountain gang, by the look of the way he dresses. Now this one's fiery,
don't you agree Miaka?" She said.
Tasuki smiled smugly. "Yeah, I know I'm hot damn sexy," he thought.
"That's all I can say, judging from the fact that I haven't met the
other three seishi."
"But there is one thing that I haven't been able to completely figure
out," She continued.
"Miaka has a 'thing' with either Tamahome or Tasuki, and I am
determined to figure out which one Miaka has her eye on."
Nousatsu turned to the other two seishi. "I can have a chance with the
other one this way." She laughed softly, and then turned to Miaka.