So, you guys want me to slow down updating, okie dokie.
Let's review the reviews, shall we?
Stretch: names eh? Ronin is kinda a snake job I did from the anime show Ronin warriors. My brother's watched it for a while, I never did but I loved the name so I took it. Perhaps I should add that to the disclaimer eh? Lippoli is a combination of names, so no disclaimer for that one eh?
Remnants: I wanted Ronin to look cocky. I pictured him as really sure of his abilities. I really suggest that you see a Christmas Story. It's hysterical! Go rent it!
Janet Derrick: good to know.
I'm grateful for all of the reviews that I have gotten! I suppose what goes around comes around eh?
I also want you all to do me a favor (aside from reviewing he he he), Read the Eye of the World. I kid you not that is the best book! My friend told me to read it and he was right!
New Disclaimer: I don't own anything, i.e. X-Men, Ronin Warriors (gr, I could easily snake that name) or my official writing music, the Dare Devil Soundtrack or Independent.
Now on to the story!
Tigereyes!
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Ronin and Lippoli didn't hold each other for long, their Y-chromosomes got in the way of the touching moment. Ronin dropped his arms and sat back.
"You know, it's kinda sad that I didn't realize this sooner. You look exactly like me, save for your hair," Ronin said ruffling his brother's hair.
Lippoli just laughed and knocked Ronin's hand away. Ronin stood and took off his trench coat, hanging it on the bedpost. He then went to work taking his sword off. It was tied to his black leather belt with thick leather ties. Lippoli eyed the weapon but said nothing, holding his tongue about his wish to swing it, know how to use it the way that Ronin did. Ronin looked up at Lippoli beneath his long bangs.
"You wanna hold it?" Ronin asked unsheathing the long sword. Lippoli jumped up and nodded furiously. Ronin flipped the sword in the air, catching it by the blade and holding it out to Lippoli.
Lippoli gingerly took the handle and examined it. To the naked eye, the blade seemed plain, but it was not. Finely etched into the blade was a dragon, wings flared and rearing up on its hind legs with the forelegs grasping the air. The tail ran down most of the blade and stopped seven or eight inches from the tip. The beast seemed to move in the light.
Lippoli was engrossed in the sword and Ronin just smiled. He remembered learning to use it with his foster uncle, the little time they were together. His foster uncle said he knew his real father, and had promised to pass the blade onto Ronin. It wasn't long after Ronin mastered the blade that he had to flee from his home and his life as he knew it.
Lippoli had finished examining it and began to swing it rather unwieldy with much inexperience in the movements he made with it.
The faintest creak from the hall was received in Ronin's experienced ears and he turned his attention from his brother to the door.
"Sword, now," Ronin said almost breathlessly.
Lippoli handed Ronin the sword and Ronin held it at the ready as the door opened. Ronin stood loose, but tense at the same time. He was ready to move but his muscles were hard and strong from much practice. But no monstrous foe faced him at the door, it was only a boy, not much younger than him. The new boy, perhaps older resident that happened to be younger in years, had dirty blond hair and wore blue jeans with a black Independent shirt on. He came bearing a tray of two bowls of stew and two glasses of milk.
He stood a little uneasily with Ronin's naked sword and introduced himself.
"Hi, I'm Bobby or Iceman, which ever you like. I take it you guys are Ronin and Lippoli?" Bobby said walking in the room and placing the tray on the table. Ronin gave the sword back to Lippoli who gave it right back. Ronin shook his head and sheathed it.
'I wonder how old he really is.' Lippoli wondered to himself. 'I think he's about 16. No older. Look at him, he looks like he just got back from his trip from the mall.' Ronin thought to himself, but Lippoli 'heard' him. 'You just realize that I heard that right?' Lippoli thought to Ronin. 'I was answering your question dumbass,' Ronin thought to Lippoli with a look from the corner of his eye.
"So," Bobby said uncomfortably, unaware of the brother's conversation, "you beat Logan."
"I don't know what the fuss was, I mean it wasn't like it was hard. He wasn't much of an opponent," Ronin said dismissively.
Bobby shifted weight uneasily and cleared his throat. This wasn't going as he planned it to. Normally, new students warmed up to him easily, these two though, didn't. Bobby cracked his knuckles nervously and began to walk to the door.
"I'm gonna go eat now. Uh, see you later," and with that, Bobby was gone.
Ronin sighed and ran his hand through his hair. His black long-sleeved shirt was tattered on the sleeves and marred with stains. His muscles were stiff from the lessened use. Lippoli went over to the desk and grabbed a bowl of stew and sat on his bed, sipping it slowly.
"Ronin," Lippoli asked not taking his eyes from his stew.
"Hmm?" Ronin responded while drinking a glass of milk.
Lippoli thought for a moment longer, trying to phrase the question carefully, so as not to insult Ronin. Lippoli had been uneasy about the fact that when his eyes changed, he was more reckless. He wondered if Ronin had the same disregard for life and property when his eyes shifted from that knowing violet to the lethal amber. No answer came to his mind and he really didn't want to piss Ronin off so he just waved his hand dismissively.
"Never mind," Lippoli said. He put the empty bowl back on the desk and lay down with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head. Ronin sighed and opened the sliding window. Their room was on the end of the building so they had two windows on two adjoining walls. Ronin stuck his head out into the night air and inhaled deeply. The air here was cleaner than the city's and he missed the freedom that he had there.
Ronin glanced at his brother and climbed out the window, standing on the ledge. The gutter from the roof was just above him and he tested it by pulling on it. It held most of the weight and he put his other hand securely on the gutter and pulled himself up on the roof.
The night sky was clear of clouds or moon, leaving the stars to shine like little Christmas lights hung from the sky. They produced little light but that didn't bother Ronin. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. Another sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes, wishing to escape into the second personality that he had when his eyes changed. But that was no easy task. He didn't change them willingly. They changed on their own, when he was in danger or fighting.
'That's it. I need to fight. I can't sit here any longer. This is foolish.' Ronin thought finally and stood. He walked to the edge of the roof and lay down. The top of his body hung over the edge as he looked in his room. Lippoli was sound asleep and his sword lay on his bed, not feet from him. Ronin closed his eyes and felt for his sword with his spirit. The blade called back to him with a cool and strong feeling that Ronin could hardly explain and never wanted to. The sword began to twitch. If you blinked, you would have missed the blade fly from its place on the bed to his outstretched hand. Ronin smiled without opening his eyes as he let his legs fall from the roof and he began to fall the three stories from the roof to the ground.
Ronin twisted midair and situated his feet below him and without a noise, he landed. A fall from that height would have killed a lesser man, but Ronin was an experienced roof jumper and had free fallen from higher buildings in the city with softer landings. He mentally scolded himself for his carelessness. Ronin walked into the tree line that was not far off from the building.
The foliage was thick and it blocked out any light at all that might have escaped from the building or the stars. Ronin walked with sureness in his step as he tied the sheath to his belt. The leather was soft from constant use and the length of the string had increased from stretching under the weight of the weapon.
A clearing greeted Ronin. There was no underbrush there, as Ronin would have thought there would have been. Even the grass was short and soft on his bare feet. There was a small boulder in the far corner of the clearing and nothing else. No sound met his ears and he inhaled deeply the scent of the night. Ronin removed his shirt. Long scars traced his chest and back. A tattoo of a black dragon was imprinted on his left shoulder. It was similar to the one on the sword, save for the fact that its long tail curved under it in a long arc. The dragon covered most of his shoulder blade.
With a shake of his arms, Ronin drew his sword and began going through stances. It was calming to him and stretched his stiff muscles. His eyes shone amber but he attacked nothing. Sweat beaded up on his forehead from intense concentration as all of his energy was on the deliberate and smooth movements of the sword.
"It appears that the Black Dragon has settled," a harsh voice said from behind him.
Ronin spun around to find a shadowed figure, though he knew exactly who it was. He straightened and set his glowing amber eyes on the figure.
"Blade," he spat.
"So nice to be remembered by the boy in the Bronx that who's very name would cause women to cry. Miss me?" the voice said with acid on his words.
"I've quit that game, Blade. It bored me. I've found a new one, and it doesn't involve you or the rest of the Pack," Ronin said authoritatively.
"What ever you say Dragon, but you can't just drop that Pack that you hand picked yourself. You won't last a week here. They aren't like us, like you. Think about it Dragon, we won't offer again," the voice said.
A dagger with a black stone dragon snaking up the hilt flew from the figure and dug into the ground in front of Ronin.
"Remember Dragon, we're the Pack. We don't disband," and with that the figure left.
Ronin sighed and bent to pick up the dagger. It was beautifully crafted, he would know, he made it. Ronin ran his finger along the black blade. The blade cut his finger and he pulled his hand back, wiping the blood on his pants. He shook his head as the anger welled up in him. With a yell, Ronin threw the dagger into the trunk of a large tree and stormed back to the mansion with Blade's words echoing in his head.
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Ok, this one's not as long as the others but I have chores to do and if I don't stop this soon, I won't be writing for a while.
So who is this mysterious blade? What does he want with Ronin? And who is Dragon? Ah cliff hangers.
REVIEW! PEOPLE LETS GO! I won' update next until I have 20 reviews! I don't care how they get there, I just won't update until that little counter thingie says 20! Let's go people!
Let's review the reviews, shall we?
Stretch: names eh? Ronin is kinda a snake job I did from the anime show Ronin warriors. My brother's watched it for a while, I never did but I loved the name so I took it. Perhaps I should add that to the disclaimer eh? Lippoli is a combination of names, so no disclaimer for that one eh?
Remnants: I wanted Ronin to look cocky. I pictured him as really sure of his abilities. I really suggest that you see a Christmas Story. It's hysterical! Go rent it!
Janet Derrick: good to know.
I'm grateful for all of the reviews that I have gotten! I suppose what goes around comes around eh?
I also want you all to do me a favor (aside from reviewing he he he), Read the Eye of the World. I kid you not that is the best book! My friend told me to read it and he was right!
New Disclaimer: I don't own anything, i.e. X-Men, Ronin Warriors (gr, I could easily snake that name) or my official writing music, the Dare Devil Soundtrack or Independent.
Now on to the story!
Tigereyes!
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*
Ronin and Lippoli didn't hold each other for long, their Y-chromosomes got in the way of the touching moment. Ronin dropped his arms and sat back.
"You know, it's kinda sad that I didn't realize this sooner. You look exactly like me, save for your hair," Ronin said ruffling his brother's hair.
Lippoli just laughed and knocked Ronin's hand away. Ronin stood and took off his trench coat, hanging it on the bedpost. He then went to work taking his sword off. It was tied to his black leather belt with thick leather ties. Lippoli eyed the weapon but said nothing, holding his tongue about his wish to swing it, know how to use it the way that Ronin did. Ronin looked up at Lippoli beneath his long bangs.
"You wanna hold it?" Ronin asked unsheathing the long sword. Lippoli jumped up and nodded furiously. Ronin flipped the sword in the air, catching it by the blade and holding it out to Lippoli.
Lippoli gingerly took the handle and examined it. To the naked eye, the blade seemed plain, but it was not. Finely etched into the blade was a dragon, wings flared and rearing up on its hind legs with the forelegs grasping the air. The tail ran down most of the blade and stopped seven or eight inches from the tip. The beast seemed to move in the light.
Lippoli was engrossed in the sword and Ronin just smiled. He remembered learning to use it with his foster uncle, the little time they were together. His foster uncle said he knew his real father, and had promised to pass the blade onto Ronin. It wasn't long after Ronin mastered the blade that he had to flee from his home and his life as he knew it.
Lippoli had finished examining it and began to swing it rather unwieldy with much inexperience in the movements he made with it.
The faintest creak from the hall was received in Ronin's experienced ears and he turned his attention from his brother to the door.
"Sword, now," Ronin said almost breathlessly.
Lippoli handed Ronin the sword and Ronin held it at the ready as the door opened. Ronin stood loose, but tense at the same time. He was ready to move but his muscles were hard and strong from much practice. But no monstrous foe faced him at the door, it was only a boy, not much younger than him. The new boy, perhaps older resident that happened to be younger in years, had dirty blond hair and wore blue jeans with a black Independent shirt on. He came bearing a tray of two bowls of stew and two glasses of milk.
He stood a little uneasily with Ronin's naked sword and introduced himself.
"Hi, I'm Bobby or Iceman, which ever you like. I take it you guys are Ronin and Lippoli?" Bobby said walking in the room and placing the tray on the table. Ronin gave the sword back to Lippoli who gave it right back. Ronin shook his head and sheathed it.
'I wonder how old he really is.' Lippoli wondered to himself. 'I think he's about 16. No older. Look at him, he looks like he just got back from his trip from the mall.' Ronin thought to himself, but Lippoli 'heard' him. 'You just realize that I heard that right?' Lippoli thought to Ronin. 'I was answering your question dumbass,' Ronin thought to Lippoli with a look from the corner of his eye.
"So," Bobby said uncomfortably, unaware of the brother's conversation, "you beat Logan."
"I don't know what the fuss was, I mean it wasn't like it was hard. He wasn't much of an opponent," Ronin said dismissively.
Bobby shifted weight uneasily and cleared his throat. This wasn't going as he planned it to. Normally, new students warmed up to him easily, these two though, didn't. Bobby cracked his knuckles nervously and began to walk to the door.
"I'm gonna go eat now. Uh, see you later," and with that, Bobby was gone.
Ronin sighed and ran his hand through his hair. His black long-sleeved shirt was tattered on the sleeves and marred with stains. His muscles were stiff from the lessened use. Lippoli went over to the desk and grabbed a bowl of stew and sat on his bed, sipping it slowly.
"Ronin," Lippoli asked not taking his eyes from his stew.
"Hmm?" Ronin responded while drinking a glass of milk.
Lippoli thought for a moment longer, trying to phrase the question carefully, so as not to insult Ronin. Lippoli had been uneasy about the fact that when his eyes changed, he was more reckless. He wondered if Ronin had the same disregard for life and property when his eyes shifted from that knowing violet to the lethal amber. No answer came to his mind and he really didn't want to piss Ronin off so he just waved his hand dismissively.
"Never mind," Lippoli said. He put the empty bowl back on the desk and lay down with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head. Ronin sighed and opened the sliding window. Their room was on the end of the building so they had two windows on two adjoining walls. Ronin stuck his head out into the night air and inhaled deeply. The air here was cleaner than the city's and he missed the freedom that he had there.
Ronin glanced at his brother and climbed out the window, standing on the ledge. The gutter from the roof was just above him and he tested it by pulling on it. It held most of the weight and he put his other hand securely on the gutter and pulled himself up on the roof.
The night sky was clear of clouds or moon, leaving the stars to shine like little Christmas lights hung from the sky. They produced little light but that didn't bother Ronin. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. Another sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes, wishing to escape into the second personality that he had when his eyes changed. But that was no easy task. He didn't change them willingly. They changed on their own, when he was in danger or fighting.
'That's it. I need to fight. I can't sit here any longer. This is foolish.' Ronin thought finally and stood. He walked to the edge of the roof and lay down. The top of his body hung over the edge as he looked in his room. Lippoli was sound asleep and his sword lay on his bed, not feet from him. Ronin closed his eyes and felt for his sword with his spirit. The blade called back to him with a cool and strong feeling that Ronin could hardly explain and never wanted to. The sword began to twitch. If you blinked, you would have missed the blade fly from its place on the bed to his outstretched hand. Ronin smiled without opening his eyes as he let his legs fall from the roof and he began to fall the three stories from the roof to the ground.
Ronin twisted midair and situated his feet below him and without a noise, he landed. A fall from that height would have killed a lesser man, but Ronin was an experienced roof jumper and had free fallen from higher buildings in the city with softer landings. He mentally scolded himself for his carelessness. Ronin walked into the tree line that was not far off from the building.
The foliage was thick and it blocked out any light at all that might have escaped from the building or the stars. Ronin walked with sureness in his step as he tied the sheath to his belt. The leather was soft from constant use and the length of the string had increased from stretching under the weight of the weapon.
A clearing greeted Ronin. There was no underbrush there, as Ronin would have thought there would have been. Even the grass was short and soft on his bare feet. There was a small boulder in the far corner of the clearing and nothing else. No sound met his ears and he inhaled deeply the scent of the night. Ronin removed his shirt. Long scars traced his chest and back. A tattoo of a black dragon was imprinted on his left shoulder. It was similar to the one on the sword, save for the fact that its long tail curved under it in a long arc. The dragon covered most of his shoulder blade.
With a shake of his arms, Ronin drew his sword and began going through stances. It was calming to him and stretched his stiff muscles. His eyes shone amber but he attacked nothing. Sweat beaded up on his forehead from intense concentration as all of his energy was on the deliberate and smooth movements of the sword.
"It appears that the Black Dragon has settled," a harsh voice said from behind him.
Ronin spun around to find a shadowed figure, though he knew exactly who it was. He straightened and set his glowing amber eyes on the figure.
"Blade," he spat.
"So nice to be remembered by the boy in the Bronx that who's very name would cause women to cry. Miss me?" the voice said with acid on his words.
"I've quit that game, Blade. It bored me. I've found a new one, and it doesn't involve you or the rest of the Pack," Ronin said authoritatively.
"What ever you say Dragon, but you can't just drop that Pack that you hand picked yourself. You won't last a week here. They aren't like us, like you. Think about it Dragon, we won't offer again," the voice said.
A dagger with a black stone dragon snaking up the hilt flew from the figure and dug into the ground in front of Ronin.
"Remember Dragon, we're the Pack. We don't disband," and with that the figure left.
Ronin sighed and bent to pick up the dagger. It was beautifully crafted, he would know, he made it. Ronin ran his finger along the black blade. The blade cut his finger and he pulled his hand back, wiping the blood on his pants. He shook his head as the anger welled up in him. With a yell, Ronin threw the dagger into the trunk of a large tree and stormed back to the mansion with Blade's words echoing in his head.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Ok, this one's not as long as the others but I have chores to do and if I don't stop this soon, I won't be writing for a while.
So who is this mysterious blade? What does he want with Ronin? And who is Dragon? Ah cliff hangers.
REVIEW! PEOPLE LETS GO! I won' update next until I have 20 reviews! I don't care how they get there, I just won't update until that little counter thingie says 20! Let's go people!