Angra Mainyu
Arc Two - Supremacy - Part Seven
----------------------------
Yurgh. Weiß? And the American wanted him alert. Nagi crossed his eyes into the coffee mug, wondering if one cup of coffee, black as night and hot as sin, was supposed to somehow do the same job as two and half bars of chocolate normally did. It would have been really damn nice if there had been more warning than five minutes worth when he woke up.
Clearly, the other two were already gone. LONG gone, it seemed, and Brad was in a serious hurry to meet them. He wondered if the precog had seen something that dictated hurry. Nagi buried his nose back in his coffee and administered several telekinetic pinches to his own ass to help wake himself up.
--
In the time when they still had to scrape for a crumb of freedom from the Elders dictations, Farfarello had pondered the merits of joining his fate with that of Crawford's visions. True, he had to be grateful for Crawford making an effort to free him from his imprisonment, even though Farfarello would get out of that institute sooner or later by his own. He had to feel a bit of... companionship? No, more like camaraderie with the other three. But he never truly felt like a member of the group. Farfarello had always been alone, and those of Schwarz were only traveling in the same direction he was going in. Schuldig if anyone was the closest he had any feelings towards, mainly because they were often working together.
Farfarello also held Crawford to the promise he made in that dim-lit piss-smelling room in Ireland years before. The freedom to be what he was under the eyes of the Liar and among the halls of mankind. Not to be a tool of petty-minded villains. Which was why he disliked the idea of the Demonchild in their midst, seeing in it being brought forth as Crawford's way of playing an Elder towards a powerful creature. But that paled to the presence of the doctor last night, whose scent was that of madness and control and over-confidence.
No, he did not like how their steps seemed to be moving towards the same type of situation as the one they had with Este.
"We better not fall into the grasp of another false keeper like the Elders. Crawford knows better than that," the Irishman growled in German.
--
"I doubt we will be encountering them that much," Brad explained as the elevator came to a halt. "My main concern is for Schuldig and Farfarello, and slightly for our guest. Weiß can be left alone so long as they do not interfere with us retrieving them. If our guest has been separated from the host, I don't think that we would be able to do anything to help out in that respect. But we may try if we get there in time."
He stepped out into the garage as the doors slid open, glancing back at Nagi to make sure the teen was following. The hard amber-brown of his eyes softened faintly behind the reflective lens of his glasses, a very small part of himself wishing to just let the telekinetic to go back to bed. But he knew how useful Nagi's ability would be if they did have to confront the pesky Weiß and the new faces in his visions, so it was easy to dismiss that nagging big brother voice in order to do the best he could for all of them.
Even if they did not realize it at the time.
Nagi provided a nod as all of his answer. He forbore to actually ask anything, keeping his natural silence as shield. Anything he needed to know, he could either find out himself or Brad would tell him. HE almost hoped Weiß would interfere ... Nagi wasn't much for killing at any time, but if there were any four people he wanted to see dead, completely, messily, and truly dead, it was the four members of Weiß. Preferably by his own hands. HANDS being an important word there.
Once again, the teenage telekinetic renewed his private vow never to kill needlessly again with his powers, as he did at least once each day. Usually not this early in the day, but then again he didn't usually have to think about Weiß this early in the day, either. Nagi kept his face blank of emotion and followed Brad.
Sometimes he hated his savior as much as he hated Weiß.
--
Hisoka was right in a way by blocking off feelings of disapproval from Tatsumi because the treasurer didn't think that Hisoka seemed well enough to complete the spell. He could just barely keep on his feet. Yet at the same time Tatsumi recognized the determination in the boy, the very same determination he witnessed in Kyoto, and found himself admiring Hisoka's commitment once again. Despite any arguments the logical side of his brain had, Tatsumi wanted to see if Hisoka truly could pull off the Reimaken with the short energy supply he had. People often overlooked the younger Shinigami because they lacked the power and practice that those older than them had in the organization, but Tatsumi knew there was something special about Hisoka. In all the things the boy lacked as far as knowledge and age went, he made up for by strength of will. He just wouldn't accept a bad ending. Tatsumi could never understand how Hisoka found that kind of strength inside of himself, when he had led such a tragic life, but it was the one quality that caused Tatsumi to hold Kurosaki in high respect. By seeing Hisoka's determination, Tatsumi had found his again. It was one of the reasons why he wanted to see Hisoka with Tsuzuki as a partner. If there was anyone who could take care of that man, it was the Shinigami standing next to him.
As Hisoka urged the spell upon the innocent soul inside the vessel bound by Tsuzuki's power, Tatsumi carefully watched the younger man's back to make sure nothing was thrown at him while he was concentrating. He especially kept an eye on Muraki, knowing that when he was around Tsuzuki was in danger as well. If the 'doctor' tried anything remotely harmful to either Hisoka or Tsuzuki, Tatsumi would reach up and shadow smack him off the roof. The kagesei had no qualms about bluntly attacking anyone who harmed the members of his organization. Especially Muraki, since he never had finished exacting the payment for what was done to Tsuzuki on him.
Tatsumi's deep blue gaze flicked over to Tsuzuki for a brief moment and he pushed up his glasses (in the famous Tatsumi gesture *TM*). He wanted his former partner to watch Ken and Youji to make sure nothing happened to them either. Hopefully he would get the hint when Tatsumi nodded over to where the two new Shinigami were. Demons were tricky and he didn't want anything to happen while Weiß was still inexperienced. There was probably enough angst floating around today already, no need for another tragedy.
--
The sensation of being separated from one's borrowed form was not a sensation the demon had wished to repeat, but once more the Reimaken was wrapping itself about the girl's form, coaxing Aya-chan more awake and attempting to get her to fight with it, making it hard for the demon to fight against it. The last time Hisoka had cast the spell, it had been easy enough to break by using the chaos of the moment to its advantage to smush the girl's bright spirit back down. But this time that was proving difficult since there had been the peaceful lull of the time freeze in which the demon had been frozen. And Aya's soul had not. That brief moment between the time continuums of pure stillness had allowed the seal on the true girl to shatter, and it felt safe for her to come forth. When time had returned to normal and the demon once more took control, Aya had for the first time realized there was someone else in control of her own body... and she didn't much like that.
And she wanted her own body back.
Now.
Shuddering and biting down on her lip, the demon fought to stay in this form a few moments more as it swept deep blue irises over everyone, trying to deduce its next move. Staying in this host body was definitely not going to be happening. The two forms of Farfarello and Schuldig were noted... but they were simply too far away for either of them to be her next possession. It was truly a pity it didn't know exactly which of the Shinigami had pulled that little time trick which had fully broken the already thin seal on Aya. Possessing them and ripping them to shreds from the inside out would be a pleasure.
Indigo eyes finally settled on Hisoka, a light smile forming on her lips of utter cruel intelligence. Well she simply wouldn't just do this their way... A new host form with so many offered, but just as many there to fight that from happening just simply wasn't happening it seemed. As the Reimaken on the ofuda-withheld body continued its spell work successfully, a dark pool of energy started flowing forth from the petite form glowing from the spells wrapped about it.
The energy that was the demon's purest form started coalescing into its true form of nightmarish visions of hell and torment. The form stayed the rich ebony color as large wings with sharp tips curled over formed, black leathery in appearance and the cursed flesh webbed and veined like a bat's wings. Long muscled hind legs which ended in vicious razored talons formed as the demon crouched on the ground, the large wings wrapped about itself as the rest of it formed, the wings uncurling a moment later to show the being's torso and face, every bit of its lean frightening figure the same leathery surface save the claws that gleamed as if wet from blood. Unblinking black eyes which the very depths of hell and creation and fear swirled within stared out from the horned head fell on Hisoka as it fully formed after a few moments, the freed body of Fujimiya Aya dropping to the ground behind it, but the demon didn't care. For a moment it actually considered turning and just consuming the girl's flesh as a final payback for the ones who brought it out, but it had other things in mind.
Tatsumi's twilight blue eyes shifted to the color of a moonless midnight sky as liquid tendrils of the purest black rose from the shadows created by his and Hisoka's bodies. The shadows grew to twist about Hisoka's body, moving slowly in a cyclone formation that allowed Hisoka to still be seen. The tendrils had no shielding purpose as of yet, but if the demon chose to attack Hisoka then they would pull the boy into a shadow realm where the minion of Satan couldn't reach him. Tatsumi wasn't particularly concerned about whether Hisoka liked that plan or not. He was more worried about the boy being hurt or Tsuzuki being too distracted with Hisoka's health to do his job. The main problem now was getting the demon back to Hell where it belonged. Hisoka had done his part by saving Aya.
Darkness began to whirl around Tatsumi's fist as well and his eyes flicked from the demon to the body behind it. At his silent command, a pool of darkness formed beneath Aya's body as bands of shadow leapt up to wrap about the girl's form protectively. Almost as soon as Aya was secured, she was pulled downward into the pool, which disappeared completely as soon as she was submerged in the darkness. The entire process took seconds to go through, making Aya's disappearance extremely sudden to those watching the events. In reality, the pool was one of the forms of a shadow portal, a technique he used to travel between the shadow realm, the mortal realm, and the realm of the dead. Aya would find herself placed somewhere in the Koneko when she finally regained consciousness, but Tatsumi wasn't really sure where he put her. She could be in a closet, on the kitchen floor, on a table, on a couch... anywhere. He hoped he hadn't placed her in a spot that was too uncomfortable.
Upon getting Aya out, Tatsumi looked over to where Ken and Youji were standing. "You should go inside and check your flower deliveries. The girl is safe now and the rest of this situation is ours to worry about," he said, nodding back towards the building. He didn't want to say that he had placed Aya there, since he didn't need the demon to think it could still reach her. He wanted it to focus on the Shinigami now and leave the battle strictly to the experienced representatives of the JuOhCho.
Tatsumi's attentions settled completely on the demon once again, assessing its mood and overall strength as he watched it carefully. It had been a little while since he had dealt with a demon, but he wasn't worried. His main role at the moment was to assist Tsuzuki by protecting Hisoka's welfare and watching the man's back to guard him from Muraki's sneaky games. Tsuzuki would be the one who would deal with the demon, seeing how he was the most capable with his Shikigami. After noting the unbridled rage in the demon's soulless eyes, Tatsumi smirked slightly and glanced at Hisoka. "Congratulations, Kurosaki-kun. You have officially pissed off a denizen of Hell," the kagetsukai commented wryly.
A curious and pissed off brow quirked at the well-dressed Shinigami. He wanted him to check on the flowers... now... they were in the middle of a fight with a big assed fugly demon from the depths of Hell! And this clown wanted him AND Youji to check on a delivery in the shop. Not to mention this guy had taken Aya somewhere probably to some ecchi porn den for him to ravish the helpless Fujimiya.
No way!
Springing to his feet Ken lunged at the man only to be yanked back by the belt loop of his jeans. He turned to glare at Youji about ready to get his friend to leave him alone and let him beat the crap out of this stuffed shirt.
Youji yanked again this time upward, grinning as he heard an uncomfortable groan of pain and Ken's hand moved to his groin.
"Uh my ba-"
Again he tugged a bit harder the blonde began dragging them back to the shop. "Right. We've got to get the shop ready for customers. Do be quick out here." Smiling politely Youji dragged a struggling Ken behind him as he quickly made his way over to the shop via the front grate, which they'd opened to get out there in the first place. Youji turned quickly once Ken was unceremoniously thrown inside colliding with a display of terracotta pots, and pulled the grate down quickly. He whirled on Ken suddenly green eyes fixing on aqua and held his hand up before Ken could start in on a tirade. "Help me find Aya. She's somewhere in here. That guy did some weird teleport with I think her shadow. Star checking dark places for her."
Ken looked at Youji strangely as he brushed off the chunks of broken pot from his shoulders. He stood and finally realization hit him once he took a moment to actually -think- about what had happened. Nodding to Youji, Ken made his way downstairs first. "You check in here. I'll check the mission room."
--
As the shadows wrapped about the slender form fallen back onto the pavement on her side just feet from the demon, the girl slept on, not even stirring as the shadow-port moved her from the battleground to the flower shoppe. She appeared in one of the darkened bedrooms slightly in the air, dropping down the few inches to the soft mattress. Thick curtains were pulled over the window to keep out the daylight, leaving her in complete shadows but she didn't notice it. Aya simply turned on her side, the long pools of silk of the white dress and the waves of her dark hair flowing about her. No longer was she in the coma Muraki had sealed her into just as the car hit her hard enough to end her life. The young female Shinigami was simply sleeping, tired from aiding in casting out the demon from her body and the havoc going on about her.
Right now she was content to sleep a bit longer, not wanting to wake to the loneliness she felt in the room. And Youji's bed was a soft place to spend her last moments of sleeping before waking to rejoin the world.
--
Opening his mouth to answer Farf with some off-the-cuff bullshit, Schuldig snapped his mouth shut and stared straight ahead. A chill passed through him when Aya looked in his direction, but that was nothing to compared to the fear that swept over him at the unfolding events on the streets.
Sure, he'd known in theory that a demon possessed the girl, but to see it emerge into solid form was something else entirely. A rude awakening. Something that told him this really was -not- a game. That Crawford had been crazy to think that he could tamper with and control something as cruel as the demon standing before them. It made Schuldig ill to think that he had been sitting in the same room as that... thing ...the night before.
Reality checks sucked.
What to do? Run out there and help Weiß and the strangers and risk getting stabbed in the back for his efforts? For surely they would think he'd be helping the demon. No... they would -definitely- think that. Maybe he could run and find some dark, out of the way place to hole up until it all blew over. Uh huh. Right. Crawford would hunt him down and kill him quicker than the kittens would.
So in the end, after some agonizing internal debating, he chose to remain right where he was. Crawford had said not to interfere if they could help it. So he wasn't. But if that thing so much as scratched Omi...
Damn, he really needed to get his priorities straight...
--
When the demon's first frustrated screams had cut through the air, Tsuzuki turned back to face the possessed girl, bringing out another ofuda to use just in case the first one didn't hold. The blessed strip of silk only lasted as long as the material itself, and could end up becoming torn or damaged letting what spell it held crumble as well. Then of course there was the matter of the strength of the being it held and the energy that was amassed against the ofuda.
He watched as the possessed girl struggled against the bonds he called up, glancing back at Hisoka to make sure he was still okay. The young Shinigami was pale and shaken, but his brilliant green eyes shone with determination. Smiling privately to himself, Tsuzuki turned his attention fully towards the demon-possessed girl, moving back to stand in between the two new Shinigami and the girl in case this time the Reimaken took hold.
With a sigh, the freed girl collapsed, the demon was pulled from the body that hosted it. The growing shadows around both her and Hisoka freed his mind of worry for them. Tatsumi would take care of them.
His fingers moved in the ancient pattern, drawing the scared kanji in the air, his voice whispering the words he learned so long ago, his sable hair stirred by a cool air that suddenly swirled down and encircled him. Hisoka's skills were in that of the spirit and emotions, Watari's in the science and abstract, Tatsumi had his shadows and the world of numbers. But Tsuzuki's skills laid in the Shikigami and the curse magic. And with the girl in relative safety and the demon standing freed, he was able to utilize those skills to their fullest.
He ended the chant with a single name, the last syllable echoed by a roar. Appearing beside the Shinigami was a white tiger, larger than any tiger had ever become, standing at the same height as Tsuzuki. Its maw was full of sharp white teeth; the large paws ending in wickedly hooked claws. Its large blue eyes showed its true weapon, one of age and power far beyond that of any mortal animal, and an intelligence that was keener than any human's mind. Byakko from the North Wind, one of the twelve Shikigami, had answered Tsuzuki's call.
"We are not done yet, demon," Tsuzuki stated, resting his hand on Byakko's ruff. "So don't think of leaving."
Razored claws tapped lightly in a slow rhythm on the pavement as soulless eyes peered at Tsuzuki. A wide mouth of glistening teeth opened and it let out a sharp hiss at the appearance of the Shikigami, the demon's eyes narrowing at the man's words. It may have gotten itself into a bit of a sticky situation but it still was hardly a foolish and stupid demon. And it followed the orders of no Shinigami...
From no one.
It was no longer in the host body of Fujimiya Aya so was no longer under the contract with Schwarz. Though options of what to do now with that fact were looking slim...
A loud screech sounded through the air like nails on a chalkboard as the large wings unfurled and it raked its talons over the concrete. Just as easily as it had taken flight the night before, but even more quickly since its leathery black wings were already spread, the creature rose up from the ground to leave the premises. Its slight advantage of being in the human body held so dear to the redhead was gone, so leaving was a very good option. Another screech ripped through the air as it gained altitude, heading upwards towards the rooftop level into the clear blue skies of the world hardly ready against its destruction. Its unreined destruction.
With the possessed form restrained as it had been, Omi had allowed himself to relax slightly from the tense position he'd taken, instead resting his weight further back on his legs as he let the point of the arrow drop. Sky-dyed eyes continued to watch the proceedings with interest, a shard of understanding highlighting his gaze as Ran's words, along with his own conclusions, began to set the puzzle pieces in place. Watching Aya's form specifically, the youth worked the logic of the pieces in his mind, nodding silently to his own paths of thought. Possession by demon, as unlikely as the normal terms of physics allotted to it, did explain why the younger Fujimiya was attacking others, rather, had been attacking them.
Innocently blue eyes went wide as the scene below shifted about again, the odd technique from the green-eyed Shinigami seeming to have some effect finally. The pooling of dark energy taking form confirmed the demon's sheer existence in concrete, no illusion able to conjure the kind of reality they were suddenly facing. Something undoubtedly evil, if stereotypical images were to be believed, was sitting down there, and no amount of logic would ever be able to explain it away as a mutated bat deciding to terrorize Tokyo.
Within an instant, the young assassin was ready again; his body again held with precision, Omi raised the bow and drew back the string. His sights were simple and set on the demon as it screeched with the volume to deafen through the shrill tones. The leathery wings pushing for flight were centered in the line of his bow, the archer knowing well that it would likely be suicide to take on this sort of demon head on. Even for a dead person it would be suicide, given the extremely angry nature filling the creature's form. No doubt it was a little cranky from losing its host, and would be all too happy to shred the first person that directly attacked it. That, of course, explained why Omi had his sights on the wing. Disable the creature, and hopefully the ones below would deal with it. Especially given the sudden appearance of a large white tiger beside the violet-eyed Tsuzuki.
Steady and true as ever, Omi pulled the arrow back as he had countless times on mission targets. Then, without a wavering to his form to upset the aim, he loosed the arrow, hearing the breath of air that haunted its former place. Even as the first arrow was off, Omi was reaching for the quiver beside him, to find a second and loose it, if his aim, somehow, proved less than true.
--
"Just as I've always wanted to do."
The rather dry and careless reply came from the youngest Shinigami, who had sunk to his knees upon the success of the Reimaken. Had the technique not drawn nearly all his energy from him, Hisoka might have held a moment of pride at the success of his casting. However, twice conjuring the spirit-splitting Reimaken had drawn dry the reserves of energy he'd held, ones already depleted from the previous night's sync with Ran and his subsequent night traveling through the city's streets. As it was, he had enough spunk to retain his teenaged sarcasm, but little else.
Allowing himself to give into the weakness of his legs, Hisoka watched the remains of the fight through his jade eyes, the light tones lacking the vibrant sheen of moments before. The shadow tendrils were given a half-hearted glare, the teen feeling somewhat bitter that he even needed the protection. Of course, logically, he had no ability left to create a barrier, with his whole-hearted castings. Teen logic never ran with normal logic, though, so he was simply acting his age and feeling overprotected, despite the basic need for that protection. Teenagers, go figure.
--
As expected, things were going sour for Schwarz's fortune. That much Muraki could see, even through the lapse of time that had held him immobile. With the return of motion, the doctor tilted his head slightly, watching more of the situation as it grew below. For a moment, the doctor considered assisting the demon, but chose not to for the sake of his 'neutrality' in the situation. To help the demon would be to show the Weiß-puppets that he was firmly siding with evil, and that would not assist in his later plans in the slightest. Of course, the opposite option of assisting with the 'exorcism' was as inapplicable, with the members of Schwarz who were at the scene and witnessing the incident. For his own interests, he would have to remain on the sidelines of the matter. Meanwhile, he could watch, learn, and listen for hints that would further his personal goals in the short-term future.
Bemused by the lack of action from the two Schwarz-dolls, Muraki cast his unnatural gaze along the area, searching for a reason why. Curious to the direction of the German's gaze, he followed it up to the roof, spying the redhead and the blond puppets resting there. The latter was intent on the situation below, and the former was giving him quite the cold glare. Arching a brow, he returned the look coolly, privately fascinated by another pair of startlingly violet eyes, like his beloved had. A mental note was made to look into that one's life and see what possibilities lay therein. As for the blond, the doctor kept the image of the youth in his mind, for a later date. If the young archer was the point of interest to the German, than perhaps it would be good to remember, and use that, later.
The screech of the demon loosed brought his attention back to the ground, where the dark form was now pulled from the young host. Quite a shame, in his opinion, since the girl had been so well cultivated to be perfect for the creature. Another carefully laid task wasted by the inopportune, but one that Muraki could forgive for the moment. He could work with the results, that much was certain. It would just take time, and carefully claimed neutrality, to see the benefits.
For the moment, though, there was little else he could do. Shrugging, the confidant half-smile he preferred alight on his lips, Muraki summoned his powers and allowed the white teleport to consume him, sending him to the careful cover of the alley near Schwarz's position.
"Your leader made his mistake today," he said, his voice loud enough to be heard, yet his form hidden from Weiß's sight - in order to keep the image of neutral-Muraki, of course. "And his precious pawn of a demon has been lost. Tell him to contact me if he wishes an alliance to restore that lost power."
--
Darnit, they were doing everything without him!
The subtle hints of a genius' pout touched Watari's lips as he dove towards the ground, righting his balance at the last second to land perfectly on his feet. For his feathery part, 003 did not match his companion's skill, instead crashing to the ground like a fluffy, avian rock. Dust rose from the miniature crater, quickly cleared away by swiftly beaten wings as the small owl righted himself and sloppily took to the air to land on Watari's shoulder, where he promptly dusted himself off as though plummeting to the ground like a mini-meteorite was nothing new for him.
"Bon! Tsuzuki, Tatsumi!" Admonishing tones took to his voice as Watari crossed his arms, attempting to look serious and foreboding. "You didn't wait for me, how cruel is that?"
Of course, the towering form of demonic power did not much bother Watari, who ignored the worst of the screeching. Nails on chalkboard was a normal occurrence when he was busy with calculations and ran out of chalk - fingernails could leave trails in the dust that worked fine for calculations and all.
Unable to keep his angry features for very long, Watari allowed his frown to turn into a proud grin as he fished out a piece of paper, listing out the power associations for each of the new Shinigami. "Oh, and I was right!" he added, as though it were a genki afterthought. "One of them -does- influence time! Oh, 003 owes me some birdseed, he actually bet that I was wrong. Can you imagine that ever happening?"
--
Fascinating but getting tedious. Farfarello studied the dark form of the demon revealed with the same uh-hum interest of a scientist looking at another housefly. It was interesting but after a few seconds it just lost any appeal. He had no idea why such creatures were into trying to scare others with the twisted and the deformed. In his own twisted mind, the shape of demons that would cause the deepest fear would be like the Morning Star. A fallen angel, he would still be beautiful and soft of speech until one saw the wings made from pure midnight fears.
His foot tapping the ground, Farfarello folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head to the one side as he looked for Crawford's car. Demon watching was over. He now wanted to go and finish destroying Este sometime in the next century.
Raising an eyebrow at that voice, Farfarello's lips pulled into a dark grin, revealing pale gums and animalistic teeth as he turned his head towards him. Why was he not surprised to hear from the white-clad messiah of their collective problems of the moment? Still trying to fish for acolytes in a dry lake, or did he still think they clung to his nets like starved things?
"Judge not what you do not understand," Farfarello replied calmly, the dark expression gone again, features serene to deny the madness inside. "The Demonchild has done what he told us it would do, as we have done what he asked. If we wished for power, we would have let the Este Elders raise the demon as they wished instead of thrown our fates on a different path."
--
Driving when one was a precog was a very interesting experience especially when one was in a hurry. Brad was a past master of using the slightest bit of information his gift gave him, knowing when to squeeze through one stoplight, and when to make an illegal turn down a one-way street. Avoiding the pitfalls of traffic with a part of his mind, Brad plotted through the twists and turns of their next future steps. Este was still around, though a majority of its power had been broken. Their training facilities for more agents were still around. Now would be the perfect time to strike at them while they were trying to gather their power back together.
A trip that was supposed to include the now freed demon.
Brad was good with improvising though. The demon would have backed them up but they could still take care of that place, it just called for a change in plans. And as for the possibility of joining forces with the doctor from last night... that was not a wise choice. Neither was returning to the apartment to stay.
Stopping near where Farfarello and Schuldig were standing, Brad adjusted his gun before stepping out into the street, his eyes masked by the early morning sunlight reflecting off his glasses. He caught the end of Farfarello's words, smirking faintly at the Irishman's odd choices of words. Different paths, indeed.
"Farfarello, Schuldig, time to go," he told the two, not even looking at what he knew was happening.
--
"Why oh why do they always run..." Tsuzuki asked himself as the demon took to the air. Not expecting an answer from anyone, let alone the demon itself, he grabbed a handful of Byakko's silky hair in both hands and swung his legs over the tiger's broad back, adjusting his seat as the Shikigami took to the air after the demon.
There was the exhilaration of flight without having to concentrate on it, the feeling of the wind rippling through his hair and the powerful breathing of the tiger he was astride. Ruffling Byakko's fur affectionately, Tsuzuki glanced down at the others on the ground giving them a wave before turning his attention onto the dark shape before them.
The last time he fought a demon, he had let it get in close enough to mark him, enough so that he became a new host for the creature. Tsuzuki just had to be careful not to let this demon do the same to him. He did not want to be the cause for another destruction of the Library because he got too close.
Flipping out another ofuda between his fingers, Tsuzuki gave the demon a wink as he flung it at the demon's back even as Byakko climbed for more height like a hawk trying to overshadow its prey.
A sound of sharp metallic grinding rage-filled pain cut through the air as Omi's aim proved to be true, the demon having truly dismissed the ones on the roof as being able to hinder it in its escape to the heavens it never belonged in. The endless eyes of darkness found themselves locked on the young archer as a bronzed metallic blood flowed along the veins in the wing from the torn flesh where the bolt had ripped through the wing. Though Omi had aimed for where the muscles seemed to line the cartilage structure, the demon had shifted its wing to catch the unavoidable projectile instead in the broad part of just flesh and veins. Despite the sudden injury on its appendages required for flight, the demonic creature kept itself in the air with a hard swoop of its stronger wing.
The streak of white against the dark pavement below easily caught its attention, bringing it away from its attacker on the roof. Tsuzuki's following ascent was watched carefully and in a dark flash, the kanji etched ofuda was sent floating back to the ground in shreds. The demon's talon making quick work of it. A simple holding spell against the demon's true form would do little good, and it simply did not want to right now deal with the nuisance it would prove to be. Ignoring the still ascending near god like being and its passenger, the demon opened its mouth of jagged teeth and released a long hiss at Omi. Still hanging in the air, it brought its wings together in a sharp clap, a burst of destruction dark energy, visible unlike its former attacks, flew forth from the tips of its wings. Straight to the one which had injured it so and allowed it to get quickly surrounded.
There was something... completely fucking eerie about watching dark energy flow forth from one's loved sibling to form into a being which Ran knew would haunt his dreams for years on end. Completely fucking eerie was really the only thing, which properly described this situation. The man's hand not holding the gun rested on the ledge of the roof, his already pale knuckles white from clenching onto the stone jut of the building. He felt himself freeze at the sight of the being which had been inside his sister's form... summoned there by Schwarz... and his frozen shocked state just intensified more as the fainted form of his younger sister just vanished into the shadows. The only thing which kept him from going into a controlled but shi-ne'ing panic was the new man turning to Youji and Ken and the blond then tugging the younger assassin inside. Hopefully one of them knew what the hell was going on... they would have to all confer later...
After this insanity was calmed. Hopefully not all of their days as Shinigami would be like this...
Seeing as there was little he could do, he just observed the demon. Easy to do since he couldn't pull his eyes off of the creature which had inhabited his sister's form for a few days. A light shudder moved through his still form, the redhead wondering if she would remember any of that... he hoped not, for her sake. Seeing what that demon had done with her body for its own uses would be completely different than if she had actually been able to hear him when he talked to her while she was in her coma. He had told her of his progress to find Takatori... Always he'd known Takatori was just a very vile man, but a man, a human. With weaknesses. Not fully evil even if he was very much on the corrupt side of the scales, setting it off balance. This demon was fully unlike anything they'd so far seen in the matters of good and evil. It had no human instincts or conscience of right and wrong...
The utterly evil creature taking flight and coming up towards them brought him out of his silent reverie of just what Weiß was now involved in. Omi reacted before he did with his compact bow before he could with the gun in his hand and he just observed the demon's angered lashings, seeing those dark eyes set themselves on his younger teammate. The same cruel intelligence which had gazed upon him earlier through his sister's deep blue irises.
Seeing the race of sizzling black energy headed towards his teammate in an attack moved him to action, the gun shooting a quick succession of bullets at the creature's wing without hesitation, aiming where Omi had before. Close to the shoulder to make the muscles and tendons which moved the wing too torn to work... that was of course guessing that the demonic form was built similar to the human in that it needed muscles to work, but the bronze shaded blood streaking down the wing and dripping like acid to the ground gave him a good guess it did. He idly wondered if this would work better if Hisoka had put silver bullets into his gun... or was that simply werewolves... or a complete myth entirely... but hopefully whatever was in the clip would do the job to get the demon out of the sky and away from attacking range of himself and his teammate.
Letting out another high grating shriek as more damage was done to the very same wing, the dark form started in a slow plummet back to the ground, not able to stay in the air with one wing disabled.
Unnerving and freaky certainly described the creature that was staring at him with nothing but hate in its tainted eyes, but that did not cause falter to Omi, who stared right back at it with even emotion in his gaze. Raised to kill or be killed, the young archer had seen atrocities in life that few would ever think possible. He'd brought punishment to people who'd held no qualms about raping children, or dissecting people to get human filet for supper. Seeing a demon was, admittedly, a personification of all those terrors combined, but it did not hold him immobile. At least, not when his mind had slipped into the mode of a mission, where it was a literal matter of survival of the fittest - people who froze at the horrors that arose in such situations never survived.
The calm, infallible assassin mask broke to a wide-eyed teen as the hell-spawned creature snapped its wings in the creation of an unmistakable attack. Kneeling as he was, with another arrow notched to the string for release, Omi did not have the time he needed to simply dive out of the way - not without seriously damaging his bow, which would leave him weaponless in the fight. Forced to improvise in an already unplanned situation, the blond tried to lurch his weight and balance backwards, to accommodate for his shift and the subsequent attempt to stand that way and then back up, away from the strike.
Of course, as with all intelligent, instantaneous plans for self-preservation, Omi's was doomed to failure due to a simple lack of time allotted for its completion. With a rather silent curse to how helpless he was in that split-second from the attack's launch to it's arrival, Omi took the hit dead on, letting out a sharp yelp of surprise and pain as it knocked him back. The sound of Ran's return fire on the demon echoed around him as the force of the strike began to dissipate, leaving a momentarily eerie sense of chill in his form, which sunk slowly into recession before seeming to fade completely.
For the moment, the manager lay still, hoping that no follow-up offensives were going to be directed at him, or that they would pass above him if they did. Then, with a slowness that accompanied all injuries, even the basic soreness of being flattened to the roof, he shifted, reaching out for the bow he had dropped in his attempt to escape the inevitable. Once he had a weapon, he would think about sitting up; but there was no way he was going to get up without some sort of way to strike back it he got attacked again. Being struck by the source of ultimate evil was definitely not high on his to-do-again list.
Cursing faintly as the slap of energy he'd been unable to stop hit Omi hard enough to knock him onto his back on the hard rooftop, Ran kept his gaze on the dark form of the demon. Once he saw it was indeed spiraling back down to the ground and unable to give another strike like that, the redhead crouched down beside the boy's form. He still held the gun in his hand and listened carefully in case the demon tried to ascend from the ground again, even more pissed off than before. He wasn't quite sure just how much damage he had done or how quickly that thing could recover from it all, but at least he now knew that their weapons did have an effect on it.
Pale lavender eyes moved over Omi's form, looking for signs of injury, blood, twisted limbs, but saw none. The slow instinctive reaching for his bow was reassuring and Ran allowed him to get it himself. "Are you all right, Bombay..." he asked softly, letting him know who was so close to him. He closely watched the boy's eyes as he recovered from the attack. The irises were shaded by his half-open lids and long lashes, and he watched him closely to see if those usual cerulean eyes were anything like the dead darkness he'd seen in Aya's eyes... He was unsure just what the creature had done to his teammate, so he was checking the one sign of possession he was certain of. His low crouched position was one of readiness, able and ready to move quickly away from Omi if any of the soulless depths had found its way into his gaze.
Paranoid about getting one person he cared about free of a demon only to have it take another? Oh. Just a bit.
--
"For one of Schwarz, you understand very little, Farfarello," Muraki returned, a silvery eye watching the Irishman with no restraint of the faint amusement in the unnaturally toned depths. "It is disappointing, on the whole; I thought the best psychic team of Este would prove a little more logical in the use of their options."
Slipping pale hands into the pockets of his white coat, Muraki raised an eyebrow at the other, that amusement in his gaze slowly forming into the faintest of smirks on his lips. Though those before him might have denied it, the doctor was learning and knew well already of their quirks and surface weaknesses. Let them scoff his offer and give scorn to that which he could have helped them achieve, he cared not. Whether Schwarz allied themselves with him did little to affect his personal future, though it had everything to affect theirs. If they turned down his twice offered alliance, he would slowly tear them to pieces. Figuratively, literally; the manner mattered not. He would simply do it, as he pleased, as their freedom grew to be of less use to him. The world was full of pawns for Muraki, Schwarz was simply being inducted to the ranks of sacrificial ones.
Upon Brad's arrival, Muraki yielded no aspect of respect to the other, withholding any societal kindness for when the man truly deserved it. He did, however, take a moment to consider what would be his last offer to Schwarz, as well as a sort of reminder to them. "The offer remains open, for the next while," he said smoothly, confidence abundant in his usual air. "A simple token that you might need time to consider it. As for your little Irish matter of power... I find it curious that you would have allowed another person to summon, and therefore control, a powerful demon if -you- had wanted power. All that would have done would be to give the Elders you seem to hate the hand they needed to strike your ambition down. Which might still be attempted... Take heed, Schwarz: Este is still around. The older believers were at the ritual, and now the younger, stronger powers are taking control. They will, no doubt, hunt you down on terms not even you could escape from. Not even the great Schwarz, after all, can stop a thousand-strong force of psychics trained to deal with their own kind. Remember that, and call me when logic sinks in."
--
Nagi didn't even bother to get out of the car. He kept his hands wrapped tightly around the coffee mug. A brief notion of learning enough finesse to keep the coffee hot with his telekinesis tickled his fancy - before any and all thoughts vanished at his notice of the freed demon.
IF anyone had been looking at the teen in that moment, they would have seen one of the first unguarded expressions to cross his face in several years, at least - pure, complete, and total shock. It didn't last long, just a brief second, before Nagi reasserted his tight control. OBVIOUSLY, Brad had known this would happen. Equally obviously, they weren't going to do anything about it.
Nagi began thinking furiously. Where was Fujimiya Aya? If she was the original host, and the demon was now freed, that meant Aya had to be somewhere else; it was unlikely her body had been destroyed. A demon-less Aya, NOT with Schwarz, meant she would probably be with Weiß. He wondered if she would remember anything from the period the demon was in her body. If so, she would almost certainly hold it against them. Equally so, her presence with Weiß would goad that group on against Schwarz. Not a good thing.
He hoped Brad had included all of this in his plans. Regardless, Nagi would do what he was told.
--
"She's not in the shop."
"She's not in the mission room either." Standing in the living areas of the Koneko no Sume Ie, Ken met Youji in the kitchen after having searched the mission room. "You already search up here?"
The blonde nodded. He gave a worried glance upward at the commotion up on the roof, the noises filtering down from the still broken door. He wanted to know what was going on, but not until he could find the girl. He trusted his teammates to call them if they needed their assistance. For now the unofficial order to find Aya was priority. "Haven't gotten to the rooms. I'll check mine first."
"Okay I'll check Aya's." Ken moved and paused. A confused look falling over his face as his hand moved to scratch his head.
"I know what you mean. Oh and remember. Aya is too big to fit in her brother's underwear drawer." Youji grinned and headed for his room.
"Youji!" Ken blushed various shades of red until he reached one of absolute mortification.
The man laughed and shrugged. "You're perverted enough to check, Kenken. Just making sure you know what you're looking for."
"Why would I want to check his underwear drawer?" Ken was now unabashedly curious.
"Well first of all, to check if he -has- any underwear to begin with. If that man goes commando I'll be very surprised, which could only mean good things for you. If he has any bikini or colored, it means he's more adventurous than I thought. If there's a thong in there..." Youji clapped his hands and wiggled his hips in a sexually grinding motion imitating the slapping of a very agreeable ass. "Wooo baby, Kenken... you're in for the romping fuck of a lifetime."
Ken reached the pallor in his cheeks of someone about two seconds from dying of embarrassment. Looking around for something, Ken settled on an apple from the fruit bowl near by and chucked it at his friend.
He caught it easily and smiled. "Thanks, I was getting kinda hungry." Winking with a playful growl, Youji wandered the short distance to his room. Seeing the delicately sleeping lump on his bed, he turned his head back and smirked as he watched Ken at the redhead's door silently debating the survival factor of entering that particular boudoir. Deciding on letting Ken suffer a little more, Youji closed the door behind him and moved over to his bed taking a seat on the edge of it. Caging the girl between an arm and his body, green eyes peered over the girl's sleeping form. He bit into the crunchy apple and just watched her, the use of his body nearly hovering over her protective as much as a curious gesture. The male tilted his head in thought an eerie feeling of déjà vu washing over him. There was something freakily familiar about this little tableau, but he disregarded it.
After all, he'd never had a sleeping Fujimiya in his bed before. The idea of that was just utterly absurd.
It was warm...
The added presence of Youji in the room took away the slight chill that had settled into the room, having not had a single person within the four walls in the past day since the blond had slept in Ken's room. To a sleeping soul who hadn't been near anyone familiar for months, since she was taken from the hospital on the beach, the presence in the room was easy enough to sense. The man hovering over her gave off a sense of warmth and comfort...
Unseen by her, on her ankle was a dark splotch in the form of a star, which was slowly fading away without a trace to leave the smooth expanse of her skin unblemished. It was a mark that was emblazoned somewhere on the body of one possessed, and would only fade when they were free and untainted. Aya started to stir and slowly uncurled from her tucked up position on the bed, the long white dress which came to her knees hugging to her form, but paused before opening her eyes. She was almost afraid to wake up... she wasn't sure where she was or what was going on or who was there with her. She'd been sleeping so long, just how very much had changed?
Other than the presence of someone else, there were other things present as well. The soft scent of lilies mixed with the characteristic scent of cigarette smoke... Which wasn't unpleasant. The lilies reminded her of how it had always smelled around her before she was taken from the warmth, the soft familiarity she had learned to associate with her brother while in her coma not touching her nostrils until now. The light touch of cigarette smoke was reminiscent of the cigar her father had indulged in after dinner each night, the evening after he was off from the bank and she and Ran home from school and activities really the only time they saw him. The light crunch and the sweet smell of the apple Youji was eating struck her senses, reminding her of caramel apples she and Ran had enjoyed at the carnival she remembered so well, and the cinnamon apple tarts her mother used to make.
Dark lashes fluttered against pale cheeks as the girl opened her eyes and tilted her head, trying to see the one who was with her. "Oniichan..." she said softly out of habit, figuring the redhead would be there when she awoke. Who else would be? Her parents were-- gone. Things that Ran had told her while she was comatose were fuzzy at best and may return fully with time, so she really didn't know who else in the world she had. And all the familiar soft fragrances in the room comforting her and coaxing her fully to wake she could associate with her older brother.
When her eyes set on the one there with her she blinked a few times and blushed faintly. The handsome face with the sparkling green eyes while kind seeming, was definitely not Ran... not unless he dyed his hair a honey shade. And in the years she was comatose... became a -guy-. "You're not Ran-nii..." she said in a soft chiming voice, slowly sitting up against the headboard, still caged by Youji's arm, but... not unpleasantly so. Her head tilted to the side as she gazed around, some of the shyness flitting away as she got curious, that curiosity in her eyes similar to a kitten's, finding itself in a new place. "Who are you... and where am I?"
Footnotes:
(http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/loth/m/a/max/demon.jpg.html Inspiration and basis for the demon's form. I did not draw this. The talented Max Bertuzzi did.)