Ello.
I still do not own the dark souls series, or the highschool dxd series.
Now, the Dank souls series, maybe/ not.
With his arm on his kneecaps, Sona's new ally began to nod off, his head slowly began to decline until it smushed against his arm, he yawned heavily. With his back turned to everyone else, he could have been easily mistaken for one who looked alike to him. What, with his dark hair, and tired form.
He envisioned blood of the guilty spilling from a deep gash. Sadly, it'd only occur far off in the future.
Two boys from the separate subfactions of devils intermingled, like they always have whenever the peerages' direction had aligned with each other. They were speaking about the stranger, without knowing about his time as a thief, or the carry over traits that came with it.
"That guy gives me the creeps, Issei! How do you put up with him!?" Saji, a dank blonde-haired student had been the first to openly voice his discomfort, and one of the first to repel to Sona once he had arrived with her. There was a clear, distinguishing gap evident when they had warped to Rias' people, a gap that wasn't there before.
Maybe the gap is what will turn the constant stalemates into a victory for one side. The gap is really what gets the win.
"He's always like that, Saji, whenever he shows up, I just...just get put off by him. Usually i just ignore him, like everyone else, but still..." He fumbled for a proper answer. Even as he shrugged off the strange feeling, it'd return eventually, and chip away at him.
But it always disperses when one left the other, so it went around wherever he goes. It wasn't his fault, really.
The lone stranger held out his hands in front of him, holding a dimly burning speck of dark flame, that which bore no shadow, but instead shone it's darkness on his palms. It was one of the earlier lessons that witch had taught him, to bend your soul in such a way, and to join it with objects. His own soul had produced this inward flame, it was his and Karla's to use.
A small creature appeared from the night, the size of a large feather. It's insect body was the base for the colorful, beautiful wings that sprouted from it's sides. It flapped, extending itself to cover his entire hand. Some parts of the creature glowed lightly, and faded to the orange and black composition.
An itch formed on top of his head, Looking up, Tristan found blue wings of a similar type, but remarkably little in size when put against the first. The head-insect descended slowly, placing little legs carefully on his hair, and eventually his face, until it used it's wings to float to his neck, landing graciously.
The first to arrive had moved about, felt by the hair-thin arms that frequently changed it's place. Closer to the stranger, climbing slowly up his exposed arm. It made that same sound again.
By now, his attention on the black flame had shifted to the ascending insect. They seemed friendly. Lacking focus, the flame simmered and dispersed.
A nearby glow in the close dark had made him look to it, discovering another insect that had arrived. It's wings were green and small. It landed on a free arm, creaturing towards his hand.
A flutter of light wind came at his visage, along with vision that filled with blue.
Trying not to repulse, he investigated the reason. Becoming cross-eyed in the process. But, there was no need.
As he discovered that the itching legs had moved from the base of his neck to his nose. And as the creature swung it's brittle wings through the air, the first to arrive had begun to reach the point where his arm would become the shoulder, rubbing over him as it did.
With a sudden quickness, it flew off his nose, off his shoulder, and off his fingers, leaving their message behind.
With understanding, his grimly frown had turned upside down.
Hearing the blades of grass shift from footsteps that only loudened. It was good that the dark flame had dissipated. He'd prefer to be secretive, even if some have already seen the spectacle before.
Well, it was of little use in this encounter, abyssal flame diminishes and divides the power of a certain clan of devils. Once mocking the first flame with a declaration of 'fire incarnate'. Clearly, they were blessed with the title the way a child is blessed with a loving mother.
The Lord of Sunlight.
Witches of Izalith, the beautiful witches of Izalith.
As well as the First of The Dead.
All of them had to wrestle against ferocious archdragons, to forge and refine the fire, failure meant extintion .
Meanwhile, for the Phenex, failure meant regeneration of lost limbs, even 'death' was not feared, the ideal of resurection brought them from a pile of falling ashes to burning fire. There was a way to combat this, during the war.
Individuals of grand feats were told to harness the power of the abyss, even if only the slightest. To fight against the new power, of course. A way was found, many of them had been caged, souls offered as kindling to the First Flame, but they had not been able to return as they had been, and were sadly put to death. Lest they become dark things that threatened the city. They themselves would want nothing like that, taken up the duty for Lordran's safety and then puppeted by a force that once protected you to destroy what was most precious.
A deed that no one would wish to be remembered by. Better to die a great hero, than die a shell that protects the enemy.
Enough, for now. The footsteps ended, expecting him to turn around. Slightly, he did, so that the edges of his eyes were visible to the person. Still, he wouldn't pay much attention, only look like it.
"The game is about to start. And you are to come with us to the designated start area, Mister Fidel." Only audible to the stranger and the newcomer, was the sound of glasses being fixed to their original position.
He formed a short hum of acknowledgement, taking a deep breath straight after. Exhaling as he took the untied cover for his straightsword that lay on the gentle grass, Tristan lifted himself from the dirt. He turned completely, seeing that the person who had come to get him was the council leader's assistant, the one who bears a similar face. She who's hair could reach down to her legs.
Who her name was, it didn't matter. It was easier for him to remember people by their faces than by their name, especially when they're so strange here in an eastern land. To him, this person was one that he would be working with for today. The game was important.
There was someone to be put in line with reality. When one steps out of place, would the rest not follow?
Teach them their place, /ELIMINATE THEIR RACE\ the method is of your choosing.
He stood upright, and followed behind her towards the rest of the Student Council, who stayed well clear from his space. Survival instinct forcing their hand.
The leaders of the peerages traded sportsman's words, and then were separated by the blue circle that slowly came to full completion.
They arrived at a secluded building in the grounds, once dark, now filled with the dim blue of devil magic. The leader of the council had turned around to order her people, face a blank as he did so. Turning slightly to each, ordering them to either follow one other towards the enemy, direct them to follow her.
Few were ordered to follow, the rest were placed in groups together.
A mop of blue hair followed towards a bushel of brown strands, easily taken for the color red in this dim lighting. This sequence perpetuated, until there were clear groups among the Student Devils.
Finally, Sona herself made a few steps in his direction, turning her head upwards a little, because of his height.
"And you, Tristan. This is the first time that we have worked together, I do not have a specific strategy that you will be part of." The king let a sigh roam free.
"For now, take out as many of Rias' pieces as you can." This was nice. The only order received was to eliminate the opposition. Simple enough. A specific person had need of killing.
And something would lead him to that indicted devil, quicker than if he would frantically search for that guilty frame of a devil.
"...Mm..."
"Good. Now, get ready at the doors. And it might help you to go with one of the main groups."
"...No." The stranger hated having to work with others. Rather them to stay out of his way. He remained in the dark of the room, away from the windows beside the exit.
"Suit yourself, then." Sona turned to her main guards, the queen and a few of the council, all of which waited for the sound that would start the match. A specific sound, that all devils of both sides would be more than familiar with.
The stranger glanced over his items. The home for his sword, a simple brown length encasing his basic sword. In his left hand, a lowly knight's shield would repel sharp attacks, and even be used to bash an enemy, if one wishes. The technique was perfected by a dragonslayer once, using a greatshield cast in iron, but an iron kite shield worked as easily, even if less effective. Besides, there was little need for such bold movement, now that there were so few dragons in the wilds, and none of whom threatened Lordran. No iron plating to his person, as of yet, save for the maneuverable shield.
Truthfully, armor was only required if your shield could not protect you from a blow.
A ringing sound burst through the walls, and the devils opened the door quickly, bursting from the opening as fast as they could.
Meanwhile, one person exited the little building slowly. Wth his head cast down and hands clasped, as if to catch something falling from the sky. Slowly, action took place around him.
Masses of faintly glowing lights of warm colors moved about, in a path that continued.
The dim lighting calmed once they found a place on him. On the arms that stretched, the hands that held one, the hair that held them.
Most peculiarly, the blue-winged butterfly that found his nose.
I am here.
I am make this for you.
Please like it. Plz.
bie.