Don't Own Dxd or anything else Only The Oc
'thought'
"Speech"
"Powerful Creatures Speaking, like a dragon or a god"
"Text via book or newspaper... when those are around..."
Is it possible for a man to be too lucky?
Well. I suppose I'm an example of that...
A long breath leaves my lips as I kick my feet up on my desk. A bored frown rests on my lips as I blankly stare up at the ceiling.
You see, I didn't specify what kind of luck I had.
A mixed bag, honestly.
You see... this world is special.
All mythology is real.
That makes this world quite dangerous.
For an unlucky man, well, you might just accidentally get taken out by Zeus after he gets drunk and starts trying to throw lightning behind his back.
You could get run over by a youkai amateur stuntman vlogger who doesn't care about speed limits because 'they'd live the resulting car accident even if they do happen to crash'.
You might even get picked up by a fucking Roc on the way to school! The giant bird of prey from middle eastern legends, that is, not a legitimate... like... rock... though, I suppose you could be unlucky and get hit by an errant boulder from an giant stone-skipping contest.
But... a lucky man...
A lucky man can thrive.
Now.
I am both of these people.
An example?
Well, in this world, thanks to the biblical god, when a human is born, they have an EXTREMELY slim chance of having a specialized soul-bound magical item placed in them. This item can vary in strength, but one that is seen as pretty weak is a 'twice critical'. A sacred gear which doubles someone's strength.
On the other end of the spectrum, you have sacred gears which can kill gods quite easily.
All sacred gears have a 'superstate' called a 'balance breaker' in which the balance of a sacred gear is utterly broken.
Does your sacred gear increase your strength every ten seconds? Well, now there's no wait-time.
Does your sacred gear let you create weapons? Here's a perfect copy of Excalibur!
There are many things in this life that can be determined by sheer fate.
Bloodline. Inheriting a legendary spirit's 'will'. Sacred gears. Even magical affinity.
Heck, the chance to have a sacred gear is about one in every one hundred thousand... and as the human population increases, that number slowly but surely gets smaller and smaller. In a decade or two it'll be one in every one hundred and ten thousand at the very least.
Now, there's also a VERY slim chance that you become a total statistical anomaly and have TWO sacred gears.
The chance of that are... like... super fucking low.
I have three.
...
Yep.
Three sacred gears.
That is my unfathomable luck at work.
Now for the Unluck.
They all sort of fucking suck.
Like, not even comparing to a Twice Critical.
Even THAT is more or less a conceptual doubling! I don't have anything remotely close to that!
Sacred gear one: Shadow Pit
Sounds menacing. But I basically can just store things in my own shadow... and the items can only be up to my body weight.
Yeah.
It's a sacred gear that kind of encourages obesity.
But. Considering the world, that's sort of just asking to be killed. You'll be making yourself a bigger and slower target.
Luckily, or unluckily, it's pretty hard for me to put on weight... as a result of my bloodline I'm a bit frail but fast.
Sacred gear two: Starling 'Huh' Subspecies.
The Starling series of sacred gears is basically a bow made of light that allows you to shoot light arrows of assorted color. There's one for each color of the rainbow. Starling Green, Starling Blue, Starling Red, etcetera.
Now, those are pretty good against creatures of darkness, sure, but it tends to scale on magical power... and I'm just going to say it. I have less magical power than most nonmagical animals.
At a point, it might just be better to pick up a fucking recurve or compound bow... though, I'd probably struggle to draw it.
The only fact that makes this even slightly different is the fact that it's a subspecies. It can be wielded in one hand, and can fire off six shots extremely quickly.
It's a revolver.
It does have a notable decrease in stopping power, probably a result in the size reduction of its attacks, but the little blasts are a lot faster than a normal Starling Green... oh... the subspecies also doesn't really have a 'color' switching through them all in a wave like it's some sort of gaming Pc.
I have a rainbow gun to put the fear of god into the filthy heathens. Particularly low class devils which MIGHT be killed by it if I shot them in the head or something.
The final sacred gear is something called 'Paper Pusher'. It's an ink quill that lets me more or less manipulate paper the quill has dripped ink onto.
It gives me an infinite supply of Ink and more or less the ability to control the ink itself, but not to a ridiculous extent. I can't like flick a bunch of ink at a canvas and recreate the mona-lisa.
One. It's a mono-color ink. Black. And two: roughly the most complex thing I could do is probably make the ink flow upwards against gravity. Even drawing a perfect circle is a bit much.
The range I can manipulate ink isn't that great either. A mere ten feet.
My control grows the closer I am to whatever I am writing, though.
Oh, then there's the control of the paper. Technically speaking, it's just using the ink on the paper to move it around like telekinesis. But the power of the sacred gear seems to improve when used on paper instead of ink. Like, the range improves massively as does the control. I can make a paper airplane do loops, turn, fly practically forever as well.
Now. Those are merely some of the gifts I have been given.
I am extremely 'luckish', after all.
Not just Lucky or just Unlucky.
Both.
I am a descendant of a legendary figure, I've inherited the will of a second legendary figure.
The combination of those two are quite ironic, actually, then I've got an affinity for all magic.
Just no magical capacity.
It's as if everything in my life... has gone right... but gone wrong.
Then there's the fact that I've been reincarnated. Truly that must be the luckiest break I could have ever gotten.
Just some nerdy shut in, now an attractive detective with superpowers in a world where the supernatural is real... otherwise known as Highschool DXD.
The door jingles, causing me to crack open my eye, I lean forwards, sitting up and placing my feet back in the floor.
"is- is this the place in t-the ad? The... u-unnatural detective agency?" A man stutters quietly as he steps into the room.
ah. my luck is once more working overtime. I don't really 'traditionally' do ads... I basically just toss a bunch of fliers out the window and hope and pray that the wind carries them to wherever they need to go.
His eyes seem to flick around the walls... there's masks, voodoo dolls, chains.
Just a bunch of dollar store knickknacks... mostly to throw off anyone supernatural and make them assume I'm just a hack detective.
"Yes. It is, my good man." I smile as I rise to my feet. "Aaron Kosminski at your service! What is it that you need."
"W-Well... M-My name is-"
"Sir Henry Baskerville." I cut in with a smile.
"Wh-What?! How did you know?!"
"It is quite elementary, friend, it is clear you aren't prepared for the dreary weather around here, your socks are practically soaked! A local would have had worn better clothing for the weather so you have clearly traveled from afar. You are slightly out of breath and red in the face, this typically could be seen as nervousness perhaps, but I know that it is more than simple nervousness. You have a train ticket just barely sticking out of your pocket. A man of your general physique wouldn't grow tired from walking from the station, that is, unless he was hurrying. But. The rain has more or less subsided for the day. There would be no need to hurry."
"That is, unless of course, you were startled by something that needed my immediate attention." I continue. "Next, your general appearance. Black hair, trimmed mustache, pale features, relatively thick clothing. A quite expensive Canadian brand at that. These appear to be quite new, as well."
"It is clear you have very recently come into a new surplus of wealth, and taking a closer look at your features. You share a striking resemblance to one Sir Charles Baskerville. Now. As a detective myself, one who looks into the more... special... cases. The story of his death struck me as quite intriguing. I became aware of you, the sole person in his will after a little digging. Of course, finding an image of you was quite impossible even with the wonders of the internet. But. I was willing to bet at some point, you would arrive to take a peek at the estate that has been left for you and grow quite worried of the history your family has... it was only a matter of time for waiting for someone matching your general appearance to arrive. That, with the addition of the letters, HB on your cufflinks, I was safely able to deduce your identity."
The man seems genuinely dumbfounded.
"You, my good man, are looking into the curse of the Baskerville family... the hound of Baskerville." I finish.
"Y-You've already researched it?" The man whispers.
"Of course! How could I not show intrigue to an unusual death?" I state. "I had reached quite a roadblock, however... after all, how can you determine exactly how a man has died without going to the crime scene?!"
"Shall we go?" I question. "I take it you wish to put this matter behind you as soon as possible?"
"I-I- Yes! Of course!"
"Hm." I hum as I turn and call over my shoulder. "Jackie!"
A door cracks open slightly, two piercing green eyes peering through the gap.
"I'm going out." I declare.
"Bring back mcdonalds." A high-pitched voice demands.
"I'll likely be gone for a while."
"Give me mcdonalds, money." She demands.
"We have food in the fridge."
"Mnnnn." She pouts loudly, not that I can see it.
"Fine, fine." I sigh as I reach into my pocket and place a little money on my desk. "There. Your money."
With that, I turn and make my way towards the door.
The man's eyes flick back to the door.
"Who-"
"My little sister. She always shakes me down for money as I go out on a job." I shrug
"it's ANNOYING." I call out, making sure the girl can hear me as I turn my head to look back in her general direction, then turn back and continue walking. "But hey, she's family."
The doors creak open, as we are allowed by a butler.
"My apologies, but... I am the only one here." He begins quietly. "The rest were unsettled by our sir's abrupt death... it... it has taken a toll on all of us. They've all left."
"I-I see..." The man beside me whispers. "I'm terribly sorry to call you out here then, Head Butler."
"Think nothing of it, sir, I live to serve!"
I step past the two, walking through the halls, a frown on my lips
Interesting.
The butler is looking at me quite intently.
I walk through the house, gazing at numerous closed doors.
Eventually, I come to a study.
"So... this is where he died." I note.
"How- How did you know?" Henry questions.
"I read the police report." I deadpan with a half-lidded stare.
This room has been cleaned thoroughly... even the ceiling.
But that scent remains... blood. It's exhilarating. I shake my head as I crouch down, gazing at the pawprints burnt into the wood flooring.
Such a heavy scent of blood... this entire room was utterly bathed in it. But why. Not even an animal would be so messy in its kill. It would have no reason to paint the walls in Charles' blood.
The desk has been moved rather recently it appears, judging by the glossy floorboards.
"Hm."
"My god..." Henry whispers causing me to take note of something in the corner of my eye. "Those are m-massive paws."
"Hm. Interesting. It appears someone is using the hound of Baskerville as an excuse." I note. "It clear they are pretending that this has some form of supernatural cause... these markings look as if someone had heated up a large paw print atop some sort of fire poker perhaps and used it to create these prints in the floor."
"So. If I had to guess, it is likely a result of Charles' previous shrewd investments in south Africa. Some sort of business partner, perhaps? I've heard he was quite cut-throat in getting a deal back in the day... so perhaps someone with lingering hatred targeted him."
I have seen no Christian iconography or symbols throughout this entire building so far. I believe that I might have an idea of what is happening here.
And to think, we've only just arrived!
"To truly figure this out, I'd need to take a visit to the library perhaps that seems like a place your uncle might have stored older documents."
"Y-Yes! Please take us there, sir." The nephew speaks to the butler.
"Right away." He smiles kindly.
I flick through the book, a low hum leaving my lips.
Ah...
There we go.
Hugo Baskerville.
The one who started this all.
My eyes narrow slightly, scanning the portrait of him and his surroundings.
I flip to the next Baskerville.
Come on... I just need one little confirmation...
Just one.
Suit. Cufflinks. No. A different sort.
Hiring records.
Yes. This supports my general theory. But I'd like a photograph to be- AHA!
I close the book with a thud. Closing my eyes and covering my face with a hand, rubbing my eyebrows with my thumb and middle finger.
The real question is...
Why?
Why go through all this.
I know the who and what, but why?
I open the book back up to the first murdered Baskerville, looking towards the one thing that drew my eye.
A fairly... strange... necklace.
It is a large circle, like an unfilled medallion. At the very center is a large greenish gemstone, uncut that the artist seems to have drawn to be glinting... next, all around the original gem... is five reddish ones that also seem to glint.
I believe I am growing closer to figuring this out.
According to legend, Hugo made a deal with the devil.
Well, knowing Dxd, that's not true.
He probably made a deal with A devil. Not THE devil.
But. It appears he went on to kill some poor farmer girl... and was mauled to death by some hound.
Supposedly he had the strength of ten men, the eyesight of a cat, the best wine and was called a warlock due to his ability to move things with his mind...
Interesting.
I pull a keychain chain from the shadows of my sleeve, connecting it to the key I've been given.
Time to confirm a suspicion.
I find the butler speaking to my employer.
"I'm done." I announce blandly. "Here. The key."
I toss it underhanded towards the butler.
He catches it, only to let out a cry of surprise and drop it.
"What-" he hisses, glaring downwards.
A silver cross keychain now rests upon the key.
"So... why are you here, devil." I question as I grab the Baskerville by the shoulder and roughly shove him back behind me.
"D-Devil?!" Henry blubbers. "Y-You're joking! They- they're not real!"
I ignore him. "Low class, judging by how badly a simple cross hurt you. You have been serving the Baskerville clan for almost four centuries at this point, correct? But it's quite strange... why do all the Baskervilles keep getting killed by Hellhounds? Why did you paint the walls in Charles blood? Could it be you are searching the house for something? Perhaps a certain amulet that Hugo Baskerville wore? Perhaps the source of his great power? You figured something out... correct? That he hid it in a place where only a true Baskerville would be able to access with their blood?"
"I'LL FUCKING KILL-" He raises a hand.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
He gurgles slightly, body shuddering.
A color changing revolver rests in my hand, splotches of deepening color appearing on his suit.
He flops to the ground as a magic circle appears on the floor close by.
A massive beast with red skin and glowing eyes appears with a flash. It lets out a room-shuddering howl and lunges forwards.
Paper surges from my shadow, briefly surprising and startling the animalistic beast.
Paper clings to its face, beginning to burn and smoke, but it obscures its vision long enough for me to level my weapon at it and shoot it three times in the skull.
It falls prone with a whine.
Another cylinder on my gun glows, showing that it recharged, causing me to shoot a fourth bullet into the beast. It jerks but doesn't let out so much as a whimper. Its body appears to be cooling down rapidly, going from orange to a deep charcoal black.
"W-W-What's going on." Henry stutters.
"I have solved your issue..." I note. "This man here has been systematically murdering your ancestors while searching for treasure your great, great, great, great, great, great to the thirteenth power, grandfather. Hugo Baskerville."
"It appears to be a low class devil. One who had run from its master in the past... or perhaps said master passed away in the devil civil war a few hundred years ago, leaving him to fend for himself... he wanted the power Hugo held, thus he remained here. He and his familiar
"D-Devils are real- s-seriously?"
"Oh. All mythology is real. King Arthur, deities, dragons. literally everything.
I gaze down at the man I had just so ruthlessly shot to death.
I flip him over then step on his lower back, causing two bat-like wings to pop out.
"M-My god... how- how did you know?!"
"It was quite elementary, my dear Henry. Your butler here was irritated by my arrival. That. Was merely the first of a long line of dominos which set me on this path. The biggest clue happened shortly after... when we were observing the footprints left behind by his familiar there, you said the words 'My god. Those are massive paws.' As it turns out, devils are hurt by the name and title of the biblical god. I noticed a slight flinch to his expression upon you saying that."
"Then... I gazed upon the hiring records. His family 'served' your own for centuries. But, in actuality, this was merely him passing off himself as the child of his previous name... he did quite well in throwing off suspicion, I suppose... especially being so close to London. It's likely that once he got his hands on what he wanted... he would have disappeared off into the world, using his newfound strength to make a name for himself."
"Before I leave... there is one final thing I must ask you... aside from payment, of course."
I walk over to a nearby wall. "If you would, please bleed on this stone right here."
"Wh-What?"
"Trust me." I smile as I pull a pocket knife from my sleeve and offer it to him. "Just a little prick of the finger."
He lets out a sigh, a pained hiss leaving his lips as he pricks his finger, pressing it upon the wall.
*FLASH*
He flinches back as an amulet seems to slowly drift down from above.
"W-What?" He whispers.
"Bandage?" I question, offering the man, well, a band-aid.
He takes it, quickly wrapping his finger as he glares at the amulet. "What- what do I do with this?!"
"I'll take it if you don't want it." I shrug.
"Take it." He seethes. "If this was the cause of all this pain, I don't want it to be anywhere close to me."
I snag the amulet from the air and pull out my shirt collar, dropping it down my shirt and into my 'shadow'.
"Alright. I'd say our business is concluded... I'll refer you to a nice supernatural cleaning service. They should make this disappear for a nice... forty thousand or so."
"I-I see... thank you... Aaron... for breaking the curse. I-I don't know what I would have done had I not seen that advertisement."
"Probably die. Normal humans don't really do well against even low class" I shrug with a small smile. "Regardless, It has been a pleasure to work with you... I will be taking the amulet as my payment. Good day, Sir Henry."
"B-Be safe, boy." The man stutters.
I strut back into my home, a tired breath leaving my lip.
A knife is pressed against my neck.
"Jackie. It's me." I deadpan. "You should know that."
"Hehe. Sorry~ just wanted to be sure!" My little sister beams. "Carry me! Come on! Carry me!"
I let out a long sigh, quietly piggybacking the girl towards the living room
I toss her haphazardly onto the sofa- as to not hurt her- then turn and walk to the living room.
"Mnnn! You're mean!"
Life is relatively tough for a cursed existence such as myself.
Parents are gone, it's just me and my sister.
On the topic of lucky and unlucky, an 'Inherited Will'. Inheriting a will is different than being a descendant. You gather some traits from the 'legendary hero'. Gain some innate talents. That sort of thing.
That being said, a bloodline can do the same, but 'Inherited Will' is more mental compared to the descendant's Physical. a descendent of Merlin might have truly monstrous magical capacity, but an Inheritor of his will should be able to masterfully craft new spells with seemingly no effort.
In addition, both seem to grow more potent the older and more widespread such a legend is. It's just my luck that both of my own traits have popped up in the last one hundred years or so.
Why have I been saying that my existence reeks so much sheer Irony that it's clear that by merely being here is some sort of cosmic joke played by some sort of greater being?
I warm a hotpocket, then slowly walk back to the living room, where a white haired girl about thirteen or so kicks her feet as she lays down on her stomach. She has piercing green eyes, pale skin, and a subtle scar over one of her eyes and down one of her cheeks.
Self-inflicted from one of her many sudden acts of bloodlust.
Haah. Living with that brat is so exhausting.
But. She's family...
I take a seat next to her, causing the girl to hug me and rub her face on my shoulder. "Did you solve it? Huuuh? Did you solve the thing?!"
"I did." I nod once.
"How much were you paid?!"
"I was paid in a magic amulet." I reply.
"A-Aaron! Magic amulets can't pay the bills!"
"Well, if someone wasn't so incessant in her pursuit of 'macdonalds' maybe we'd have bill money." I shoot back.
"But- But- But- Eating only hot pockets is booooring!" She replies.
"You're lucky you're cute. You really are such a handful, Jackie."
"hehe." She chuckles. "Are you saying that I'm cuuuute? Are we going to go do erotic stuff on the bed like daddy did to mommy? With his hands around her neck until she didn't struggle anymore?"
"You were like two years old! How the fuck do you remember that?!" I shout.
"heheh." She quietly and mischievously chuckles, her pupils becoming slitted and cat-like. "I remember eeeeeverything~"
"..."
Just going to ignore that as one of her quirks.
I glance up at the ceiling a long sigh leaving my lips.
It truly is an annoyance to have such a conflicting existence.
I glance down. "You motherfucker! My hotpocket!"
"I was hunnngry." The girl whines.
"You had Macdonalds!" I reply.
"I was still hungry!"
"That was the last hot pocket!"
"Hm... we can share! Let me feed you... kiss me!"
"No! That's fucking disgusting. I'm not going to let you baby bird me! I feel like I'm going to be sick."
"Well, I wouldn't need to baby bird you if you'd just make me a mommy already like mommy was!"
"What is WRONG with you?!"
What sort of existence did I piss off to live in such turmoil.
Well, here's an idea I had a long time ago. 'What if a guy in Dxd was HILARIOUSLY lucky, like to the point it's genuinely laughable... but also super unlucky. Let me just say it now, Aaron's got it ALL. He can wield ALL holy swords- with some notable downsides- he can use ALL magic- just has very little magical energy- THREE shitty SACRED GEARS! Both the inheritor of someone's will (Like Jeanne) and a direct descendant (Like Arthur and Le Fay)
Like, this man here is CURSED. This little job was merely one of his 'normal' ones.