Angra Mainyu
Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Six
----------------------------
Interesting, and on so many levels.
Muraki found the situation unfolding before him of extreme intrigue to his curious thirst for knowledge and power. His little puppet had displayed surprising skill in casting the spirit separation technique, displaying a level of ability he'd previously thought impossible of the boy's patience, or lack therein. Seeing that thought proven wrong awoke a certain hunger in the doctor, to perhaps reclaim the boy for his own uses. A properly puppeted Reimaken could be excellent for finding the souls he needed in his research, and to feed the source of his own power. As a plus, the young Shinigami had already once proven how delicious he could be in more sexual terms, and could perhaps be a tool in that sense as well. Even break the youth's spiritual will through that, make him a perfectly loyal doll...
However, he could not quite act on that curious hunger at the moment, for a number of reasons. One was simple that there were too many present for him to steal away his little prize, no matter if he held great desire for it or not. Two was that the annoying enforcer of EnmaCho had decided to make an appearance, and those powers over shadow forces were a rival match of his own. He felt not like testing his mettle against that forthright, over-awed accountant; not at the moment, anyways. Three was that something unexpected had happened, without a sense of warning. The freezing of time was noticed well by the doctor, who was suddenly forced into a very unusual position. Usually he held power's sway over anything he was witness to, and the sensation of no longer being able to move his body, lest it break the laws of time itself and bring paradox down on him.
Not to mention that he, the knowledgeable and similarly powered Muraki, could not seem to break that grip held on him. Alive in most senses of the word, the doctor was an unaccustomed victim to the powers of time itself. While not fully held to it, he was also not completely free from it. The otherworldly powers housed within him allowed his mind to remain free, but his body was human, leaving only his unnatural eye able to move in his forced still observation.
What an annoyance; he would have to find and kill the little fly who had created it.
--
When Youji shouted out his wish, the area around them all freezing suddenly, Hisoka felt an odd sense of lightening. With the flow of time held at bay, the sheer number of people that could influence his emotions with their own were gone, held still by whatever it was that had happened. Amidst the confusion of the world, growing as the situation worsened, it was like a bright light cutting through the fog before the mist could lose him for all time.
Feeling the bits of torn flesh heal over as quickly as they had been torn open by the cement path his shoulder had created, Hisoka slowly managed to sit up, raising a hand to rub at the healed skin. Feeling a bit of wetness, he dropped his hand, staring calmly at the crimson fluid there. The sight of blood hardly concerned him, in such a small amount at least, since he could recover from it with ease. It was an annoyance, though, to know that there was likely a patch of ripped cloth mixed with blood on his shoulder now, likely ruining his favorite jean jacket.
Blinking as a hand was extended to him, Hisoka looked up into deep tones of Tatsumi's eyes. Slight surprise wavered in his jade depths, quickly masked by the cool distance he preferred, along with the odd level of respect he awarded to the chief and Tatsumi alone. Raising his unbloodied hand, the young Shinigami accepted the help, leaning heavily on Tatsumi as he got to his feet with difficulty. Despite the support, Hisoka found it difficult to stand, a great deal of his physical strength sapped through the drawing forth of Reimaken, and the force of the reflection.
"I'm not done yet, Tatsumi-san," he said softly, trying to regain a sense of balance as his legs threatened randomly to fail under his weight. "There's a person in there... and she knows Muraki. I have to get to her, I need to recast the Reimaken... now."
Catching the concern that the other held for how he had extended himself, Hisoka tried to shut himself off from feeling the response to his latest statement. Disapproval was expected, the youth knowing well that few supported or understood the lengths he would go to in order to find some weakness or key bit about the doctor who was responsible for his death. Whatever the reaction was, Hisoka was just as determined to cast the technique, his determination too deeply founded to care any longer.
--
With brilliant amber eyes focused intently on the piece of paper Tatsumi had given him, directions to Koneko, Watari lacked a certain sense of observation that would have alerted him to the sudden half of time. Free from the apparent affects, his status as Shinigami somehow untouched by time, his entire concentration remained locked on the sheet of paper, and his theory that it was, perhaps, written in a sort of clever code to keep suspicion from arising. Suspicion of what or where hardly mattered to the bright-natured Shinigami, he simply took pleasure in the idea that, perhaps, it was a secret code meant for him to figure out. Tatsumi could be tricky like that, after all. Right?
Turning the paper upside down in his hands, Watari narrowed his eyes, willing the pattern held in every code to emerge before him. However, a sudden collision with an unlucky young fellow in the street disrupted that willed search, sending the scientist stumbling a few steps back, clutching - or rather crunching - the paper in surprise. About to apologize for the mishap, Watari turned his vibrant eyes to the victim, and promptly blinked curiously. The person he'd run into, a young Japanese male (what else could be expected of Tokyo?), was staring straightforward and unmoving, as though he did not know he had been struck.
At that point in time, Watari finally noticed the furious wing beating 003 had been giving him to get his attention about the time-frozen matter. Patting the fluffy feathered owl lightly on the head, to stop the 'assault' if nothing else, Watari pondered what this meant. A glance to his watch revealed the details of it, the second hand stopped as perfect as though the battery had died - which was, thankfully, impossible, seeing as the batter was one of his inventions and ran more on his energy than anything else.
Rather than be puzzled by this, Watari grinned. "I was right!" he announced to the still world, jumping into the air and letting flight take him. Without witnesses, the golden-haired male had no problems with flight. Of course, Watari generally had zero problems with using his Shinigami-given levitation in public, something that he generally got scolded for when performed in a hurry or moment of glee.
Taking advantage of frozen time, Watari rose high in the air, grinning at the triumph of knowing at least one of his assumptions about the new Shinigami powers had been perfectly on the mark. The ability to distort time would indeed be useful, and interesting to train. It did not take him long to spot the Koneko, the two assassins moving on the roof catching his attention.
"See, I knew we were close!" he announced to 003 as he headed towards the building. His next observation made him pause, amber eyes catching on the pure white of much infamy. The presence of Muraki was surprising, in the least, and something not factored into his calculations.
Odd, very odd. Well, that just meant he had a reason to investigate.
--
"I think you stopped time." Ken was still oddly perplexed by everything just stopping. Also his general confusion was a bit overwhelming. His eyes followed Aya with a bit of sadness and regret at having attacked him the previous night, but he shrugged it off. If he had a chance to apologize later for it he would. When he realized where the man was headed he remembered Omi's early directive for information. In the wake of Youji's weird... thing he'd forgotten about it. Lowering the mic down, Ken answered the boy but it came out as Ken's responses usually came out. Half babble half information, all in an over-excited rush. "Aya-chan is down here. I think she's possessed cuz she's being a total crazy bitch and Aya looks like he wants to cry. Sheesh this is gonna be confusing, Aya and Aya. So the blonde kid - I forgot his name - threw some Ramen at her and she threw it back. The other guy the Tuba something or other made this fog thing but Aya broke it too and he came at her with this electrified whip thing like Youji's wire thing, but then Youji charged out there all cock-assed. You'd think he was me or something, then yelled stop and everything did."
Standing there a bit confused, Ken raised his hand to scratch his head. "Wonder if I can do anything cool like that..." Deciding then that he was -going- to attempt to do something, Ken crouched lightly, squeezed his eyes and fists shut and started grunting. From the casual observer he looked as if he were in a concentrated effort to relieve constipation. He took another deep breath, and grunted in extreme effort, his face turning a few shades of red.
Just when he thought nothing would come of it, he passed a bubble of gas from his ass at the same time a sudden tremor rocked the earth. The sudden shift of the ground in a rather large-scale force sent him on his butt. Ken blinked and calmed, the tremor doing the same. Teal eyes went wide with surprise as his jaw fell open. "My farts cause earthquakes!! Coooool."
The eldest member of Weiß blinked at what he'd done, and just looked around more than a bit slack jawed. All he wanted was for everyone to stop attacking. Not stop the frickin' universe. It seemed to have partially the desired effect. At least Aya was still. He wondered for how long though or if he could put time the way it was. He had no idea if he had to do it or if it would wear off or what.
While at the peak of his mental conundrum he felt the ground start trembling under his feet and smelled the rather foul odor that went with it. Both of them enough to send the blonde to his own butt. At Ken's statement he just blinked with that ever present smirk on his features. "If that's true, God help us all when you have diarrhea." He laughed softly and got to his feet dusting himself off. "I sincerely hope that bout of flatulence was due to exertion and not some underlying ability. That would be really gross."
--
Jerked rudely awake after too late a night, Nagi snarled silently. He didn't WANT to wake up. Briefly he entertained the thought of slamming the door in Brad's face, but before the telekinetic part of his brain could latch onto that and carry it out, he dismissed the possibility. Forbearing to reply, he rolled out of bed instead and began to pull clothes on, snatching them up from piles on the floor. With a shake of his head, his dark hair settled into place, such as it was.
Awake, if not alert, the teen stumbled into the too-bright hall, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. There was coffee somewhere, but Brad's tone had indicated a need to hurry, which meant no coffee and thus no caffeine boost for Nagi. Suppressing a sigh and reinstituting his careful facade, Nagi went in search of Schwarz's erstwhile leader.
A traveling mug of heated coffee made specifically to the teen's taste was pressed into Nagi's hands by the elder assassin, Brad's lips pressed firmly together as he headed for the express elevator. While every precious second counted, the precog knew enough of his team member's habits to know that coffee would allow Nagi to focus better on the problem once they got to the Koneko.
Ushering Nagi ahead of him out of the apartment and to the elevator, Brad made sure their door was secured behind them before calling the express elevator to their floor. Nice thing about having a penthouse suite was access to services others were unaware of.
"There is a possibility that we may be facing Weiß," he explained as the elevator doors slid open. "As well as meet with a man who feels the need to become our next Elder. I want you to be fully alert and keep on your toes, Nagi."
--
//Why not?// Schuldig asked, absently swatting Farfarello's hand away. One of these days he was going to use one of the man's own knives to cut a hand off. Maybe then the warning to not touch would sink in. Then again... this was Farf he was referring to, so it might not.
At least the Irishman hadn't ordered him to not move closer. That's what Crawford would have done, and Schuldig would have moved right out into the open in a childish display of rebellion. Anything to ruffle the American's feathers. However, with no Crawford in attendance, the redhead actually held back, instead reaching out with his mind to discover the source of Farf's warning. And couldn't have been more glad he'd done so.
While thinking it odd that the older man had told them to go to the Koneko, Schuldig really hadn't given it much more thought than the man had a morbid sense of humor. Which had been immediately over ridden by the thought that it was inhumanly possible for the sour puss to have -any- sense of humor at all. Period.
So maybe the demon had been curious to find the place where its host's only brother had spent the last of his troubled years before perishing at the temple. That had made much more sense to him. Until the telepath had caught the faint traces of clover honey, cinnamon, chocolate, and strawberries, especially the strawberries, that he had associated with the minds of Weiß.
Schuldig whirled around to face Farf, his surprise clearly written across his face. //The kitties are alive... Do you think Crawford knew?//
--
Stepping near silently onto the roof save for when his weight pressed the metal ladder against the brick wall, aided by the light tremor that moved through the ground from Ken's... exertions, Ran moved over to join his younger teammate by the edge of the roof. Noting the gun Omi had obtained last night when Hisoka had thrown it down, Ran picked up the slender handgun from the ledge on the edge of the roof, running his fingers over the magazine clip. It felt assuring to once again have a weapon in his hands even though it wasn't his usual weapon of choice. Pale fingers easily removed the magazine to check how much ammunition he had with his borrowed weapon. Seeing the safety on he wagered that there was already a bullet in the chamber, so he didn't load it as he replaced the magazine.
His eyes glanced over the street below, finding the scene not much changed from how he left it just moments ago, the climb a short one and his speed of the utmost priority in all of this. The bit of white nearby caught his attention and he looked over to see Muraki, his long overcoat still frozen in mid-wave from the winds atop the building, frozen in time somehow. Even as he watched, the feeling of slowness around him dissipated and things continued their even flow as if they had never been interrupted.
"I'm not fully certain..." he replied to Omi even as the discarded mic set clicked softly as someone tried to transmit a message. Anyone hearing the redhead speak those words would know how hard they came, the katana expert of Weiß almost always somehow one step ahead of the game with his observation skills, always knowing at least something by fact or intuition. "The only thing I truly know is we have found the host of the second demon summoning... and it is none other than my sister. Last night I followed Hisoka as he left our residence to gain more information as I might to help with all of this... and when we returned this morning, we found her observing Koneko no Sume Ie. She turned and... attacked me in a manner, thus beginning this when Hisoka averted her attention by attacking her." He frowned softly, looking down at the slight form of his sister still frozen atop the phone booth, the bands of light from whatever Tsuzuki had done to her seeming to still hold her in place. "I asked him not to harm her... he seemed to understand and wished to comply. He attempted something, a long whispered chant and a wave of energy, directed to Aya, but it was reflected back somehow."
Letting his hand rest on the ledge, he tightened his fingers as he gazed down. More details would be told to Omi of the bits he discovered last night, but for now that was all he could tell the manager of Weiß so their attentions could stay mainly on the battle on the streets below. Even as he awaited Omi's response and the next actions to happen, his gaze wandered to the man dressed in white on a rooftop nearby, violet eyes narrowing on Muraki.
--
//He might have known,// Farfarello replied, moving forward once again. He needed a more accurate feel of what was going on a few blocks away. //Crawford never actually tells us half of what he knows, only to let us find out on our own. Maybe in arrogance or maybe so we are kept on our toes.//
Eye the color of frozen amber gazed over the scene before them, pale lips pulling back from his teeth in a feral grin. There they were. Two of Weiß on the ground plus three he had never seen before and their Demonchild trapped in a glowing webbing of an unknown source. Nostrils flaring as he tried to catch a hint of their scents to see if he knew them before, Farfarello then glanced up, noting the two other Weiß on the one building and the Doctor on top of the roof.
//The question is not whether Weiß survived but who their new friends are and why the so-called doctor is watching.//
Copying Farfarello's actions, Schuldig shielded his eyes against the morning sun as he glanced up as well. The doctor could barely be made out from where he stood, not that he really cared. Schuldig had taken an instant dislike to Muraki. The man exuded vileness. Reminded him far too much of some of his 'instructors' in Rosenkreuz. Those, and he used the term teacher loosely, who had used pain and fear and suffering as a means to get their wards to learn. The kind of people Schuldig had thought Schwarz were working to free themselves from.
Soooo... what would have been the point in defying Este, only to fall into the hands of the same sort of people? Or worse even? To once again be seen as nothing more but a tool to use to achieve their goals. Been there, done that, did -not- want to do it any more.
Shifting, Schuldig sought out the familiar face of his favorite kitten. Up there on the roof, the sun dancing amongst the golden blond locks. Once or twice before the telepath had entertained the idea of approaching Omi under the proverbial 'olive branch', but the notion had been buried deep before it could really take root out of fear of a beating or something worse for disobedience, for not remaining loyal to those he owed his very existence too. An idea that sparked to sudden, brilliant life at the thought of having to serve Muraki forever.
Now focusing his gaze on the demon, Schuldig idly wondered if he could pull it off. The biggest challenge he could ever recall facing in his life: persuading his enemies to grant him sanctuary against a future that promised to be sheer hell if Crawford accepted the so-called alliance with Muraki. He was just too tired to continue on the way he was going.
--
Tsuzuki's smile was threatening to split his skull at the appearance of Tatsumi on the scene. With a wave and a shout of his name, he turned his attention to his two friends, knowing that the immobility spell should hold easily during the time freeze without his attention. Feeling the press of time-frozen air against him, Tsuzuki headed right for the other Shinigami, wanting to be close to them so that they could pull their talents together.
It was a good plan, but the smelly demonstration of Ken's powers also knocked the Shinigami off his feet. Nose wrinkling at the accompanying smell, Tsuzuki eyed the assassin, shaking his head at him. And people thought he was a bad Shinigami when it came to his eating. He regained his feet and moved at a more sedated pace towards Hisoka and the others.
Then time returned to normal.
Muttering that everything had to happen long before breakfast, the sable haired male folded his arms across his chest and pouted at the immobile girl. Really. Why couldn't the evil monsters of destruction at least wait until after breakfast before trying to attack and kill people? What was with them and attacking when he was hungry?
Shaking out of his pout, the Shinigami sighed, flicking a hand through his hair, getting ready to defend himself and his friends again. Missing meals always made him slightly grumpy.
As the normal flow of time returned, with it came a highly annoyed and thankfully withheld demoness. Not even the time it took to blink had passed for her and yet many things in her view had already changed from last she had seen it all. The light smirk was still on her lips from hearing Youji scream out 'stop' so very much in vain... And yet something had obviously happened between his screaming of those words and the point up until now.
The smirk just stayed on her lips as she moved her gaze about to try to deduce what had happened. So it seemed the mysterious powers that came with being one of the nonliving were indeed true. How... peculiar. Eyeing Tsuzuki who had his back turned to her she started to move into action to attack him, but even that slight twitch of a muscle sent a fiery pain through her form, causing a shrill scream to break forth from her lips as the curse work the brunette had worked on her held her exactly as she had been when it was cast. Every time she fought it, it sent another wave of pain through her, the ofuda and light binding about her nearly everything that was holy. And she was not.
How annoying that they had been able to get such a thing on her in that brief absence of time in her memory.
Even as she wriggled and twisted, just eliciting more pain as the magic curled tighter about her like an iron vice, she became aware of something else. In that short lull of time when the destruction had been paused and the demon held in a suspended reality, the fear and chaos of the surroundings had stopped. Letting the seal she had on the true Fujimiya Aya crack a bit more as it seemed safe to come forth. The time freeze had frozen the nearby beings who were still living...
A flash of red from down the block caught her attention and her gaze flickered to see the two members of Schwarz who'd ventured this way. Oh so very much what she wanted to see now... this would ever so much help with the smugness the oracle held over her and the ill placed scorn the falsely named demon treated her. To see the all-powerful demon caught in a trap like a mouse... skillfully avoiding the wire mousetrap while snatching the cheese only to be ensnared with the cat's own claws.
Well something would just have to be done. The demoness was hardly a foolish one despite what it may seem, and was hardly going to be fully taken down by mortals. Just to have more restrictions placed upon her powers by the immortals. She'd just have to do something about all of this... somehow.
Her piercing and near hypnotic gaze set upon Hisoka as she tilted her head, nerves screaming with the pain that slight motion caused her. The demon fighting for even -that- slight motion. But she never made another sound, instead just leaving her in an eerie state of calm, eyeing the ones before her as inferiors despite her trapped state.
With time's return, Hisoka felt the press of emotions flood the air around him again; faint as they were, it could, on occasion, be a distraction that proved problematic. Though, experience had taught him to filter it to the side, like everything else in life, allowing him to move onwards and focus on the present.
Such as the demon-held young woman.
The soulless gaze falling upon him was met defiantly, endlessly green eyes giving the illusion of strength even as his legs wanted to simply give up on him. The tremble of the ground was enough to unbalance him again, but his weight still on Tatsumi kept his feet on the ground long enough for Ken's power to stop and the world return to a stable normal.
Once the ground beneath him was still again, Hisoka ventured his weight back on his own legs, feeling strength return to them with his determination. With time's return he had felt that flicker of warmth, the soul trapped within the body, and the one thing he was trying to reach. That small flicker of life, the stretching feeling of the person waking from a long rest, was what the Reimaken depended on for success. No human could simply drive a demon from their form, nor could someone simply strip it away; it was a task both for the possessed and the caster in order to find success in the splitting technique, minimizing danger through a joint will for freedom.
And that will slowly awakening was all he needed to find motivation to recast the spell, quietly speaking the words as the barrier of light began to form around the girl again. Copying his motions from before, a certain lagging sense accompanying his slightly weaker actions, Hisoka kept his jade gaze upon the form within the light, dismissing the brightness to watch the progress, as invisible as it was. Reaching out with his hands, recreating the gestures of the spell meant to split spirit from spirit, Hisoka finished the incantation with the spell's name, putting his very willpower into the next few steps.
"Accept the spell," he quietly growled between gritted teeth, a tense plea for the girl within the demon's bindings to reach out to his power and hold on, so that he knew which spirit was which and could pull the right one free.
Footnotes:
The second installment of the evening, with two more chapters to go. Whee!