Match of the Millennium

Description: After tangling with the reborn phoenix goddess, Katsuro finds himself in need of a helping hand. Afterwards, he and his commanding officer discuss their dark plans for the future.

[KATARINA]
It was late in the morning and the local magi-comm net was still abuzz with a frenzy of radio chatter. The sudden explosions of raw magical power that had split the skyline only a half hour ago had kicked up a hornet's nest of activity from the local Librarium. Everyone was doing their best to look busy, no doubt still shaking off a measure of guilt over the laxness displayed over the past few months. The entire branch had been caught with their pants down, so to speak, and no one wanted to be held responsible. So they threw themselves into their work, officers barking protocol that everyone knew by heart while the enlisted scrambled to provide answers that no one had.

Listening to the frantic buzz of activity in her ear, Katarina couldn't help but smile. She understood the reasons for their panic. After years of being stonewalled, the Librarium had finally managed to get a foothold onto the western shores. She could only imagine how much political maneuvering, bribery, and threats had been involved to convince the world's only superpower that they needed outside protection. Perhaps rational minds had finally managed to convince those in power that they didn't know half as much as they needed to properly deal with the supernat... no, she couldn't even finish that thought without having to stifle a laugh.

Whatever the reasons, the NOL had been allowed to claim jurisdiction in the United States finally. And the very first incident that they were supposed to be watching out for had caught them all but completely off guard. It wasn't a good look.

Of course, there were good reasons for it. All of their efforts had been focused on establishing a proper base of operations. It was the entire reason that she, the captain of the First Engineering Division, was even here to begin with. They had barely even finished laying the foundations and started to shore up the magical defenses. The complex weave of spells and wards that would allow them to pick up on and track down supernatural threats would take weeks to get in place.

Perhaps if she'd been assigned more manpower they could have set up more quickly but the Imperator apparently didn't view the construction of the facility as a priority task. She doesn't quite understand the reasoning behind that, all things considered, but the last thought that might ever cross her mind would be that Her Holiness would have made a mistake. Katarina would simply have to make due with what she had been given.

Closing her eyes, the mage allowed herself to enjoy the feel of the frigid morning air whipping across her face and through her long silver hair. Magical energies carried her through the sky at breakneck speeds, a dark streak of color against the bright blue of the stratosphere. Most days she found the heavy greatcoat that she favored to be a bit on the stuffy side but today its thick folds warded off the chill well enough that she didn't need to expend any extra effort on maintaining a spell to keep herself warm. While maintaining multiple enchantments was child's play for a sorcerer such as herself, it did tend to tax her mental reserves, and she would need everything she had to spare for what was to come.

It took her around fifteen minutes to make the trip from the far side of Metro City to the site of the incident. She could have arrived faster but she needed to converse power. If the entity responsible for the disturbance was still around she might have a fight on her hand and showing up to the battlefield exhausted was a good way to get killed. As it happened, however, the young girl was no where to be seen. Too injured to remain or uninterested in further conflict? Either way, this made things simpler.

The Shimotsuki scion cast her gaze over the destruction and allowed a low whistle of appreciation to escape her lips. It almost looked like a small nuclear bomb had gone off or, more likely, fire magic on a scale that most people couldn't even dream of. No Ars that she'd ever seen would be capable of this kind of destruction.

A fifty foot wide crater had been burned into the street and judging by the obvious circular gaps missing from several of the nearby buildings that had just been the lower tip of the blast. The pavement was almost smooth and glassy, literally slagged into molten rock before hardening once again. Anyone who had been unfortunate enough to be in the radius of that would not have survived, mage or not.

Which brought her to the reason she was here. A soft tug at the edge of her senses drew Katarina's attention away from the gaping hole in the street and out towards the bay - the tracking spell she had been running trying to tell her that she was getting close.

Lowering herself to the surface of the murky water, the young officer directed mana into the soles of her heavy metal boots and alighted atop the ocean as if it were a solid plane. Tiny ripples spread out from the edges of her footsteps as she strode out further away from the shore, arms locked behind her back as if she were taking a casual stroll through the park rather than defying the laws of physics at her whim.

After walking nearly half a mile out into the bay, she stopped and a faint smile played across her face.

"Ah. Here you are, my hound."

Slowly extending one hand out over the surface of the water, the mage closed her eyes once more and summoned up power from beyond the veil. The Music Box answered her call with a faint stirring of lilting musical notes, equal parts beautiful harmony and twisted cacophony within her mind.

Out here, alone, she didn't have to worry about anyone noticing the effects that her magic had upon her. With a soft sigh, she relaxed, and the faintly amused smirk hidden behind her greatcoat's high collar peeled back into something far more sinister. Baleful crimson light stirred in her gauntleted hand as the corrupted power of the Boundary flowed through her body, raw seithr surging into her veins like a drug.

"It is time to come home, my pet."

From that mass of pulsating mana a bolt of crimson lightning erupted, diving down into the depths to seek out its target. It slithered through the water, slippery as an eel, until striking the upraised hilt of the magical blade cast aside by the foolish goddess. Power wrapped around the handle of the weapon, encircling it and binding gently, caressing its surface as if she were stroking her fingers through the hair of a wayward dog with loving affection.

"Heel!"

[KATSURO]
The blade, nearly forgotten in the dark depths of the vast, cold ocean, stirs now. Some would argue it wouldn't have been worth the trouble to reacquire it. By all accounts, it wasn't anything special by the standards of the Librarium. An enchanted weapon, yes, but fairly low in power.

But it responds differently to that power surging down like a fishing line to catch onto it. Above the water, the officer could swear she could hear a faint whisper in her ear that isn't brought to her through the Music Box.

M O R E

The surface of the water in front of her breaks with an explosive splash. From within, that accursed sword surges forth, as if Excalibur being brought upon King Arthur by the Lady Of THe Lake. Not that there is anything divine about this sword. There shouldn't be anything demonic about it either, if the records are to be believed. Was it simply hidden somewhere in the depths in such dormancy that even most of the expert analyzers couldn't catch it? Or did the sword and it's wielder affect each other, after years of being together and gods know how much blood spilled, all leading to such a result?

Whatever the case, the sword thrusts itself through the air, practically forcing it's hilt to Katarina's hand. Seeking to be grasped. To be held. Demanding it.

But the moment that hilt so much as touches the cold steel of her gauntlet, blood inexplicably paints the edge. Drippinig from the steel, as if it had just cut it's way through the stomach of a living being. Drip, drip, drip, droplet after droplet of crimson life essence falls.

And yet, not a single drop reaches the water below. Not even as the volume of the blood along the blade seems to increase, flowing as if someone had just opened the water tap over a sink fully.

Power swirls. A crimson helix surging along the blade, all the blood dripping out from the steel rising before her.

A vision, somwhere in there. A jaw lined full with terribly sharp fangs, snapping at her. A horribly long tongue nearly lashing over her face. Nothing real, however, with any real solidity, even if she could swear she feels a hungry breath washing over her skin, a drop of slobber splashing at her cheek. It's a mere collection of concepts. Representations of something primal, reflections of a soul mirrored from the blade she has summoned from within the ocean.

But eventually, all of those concepts, the amassing blood, does begin to form something tangible. A nervous system drawing up in the air, a network of veins following soon after. Flesh built around those then, ripples of muscles throbbing and bulging into existence, and finally skin growing over them.

As if it had always been there, a hand is clasped over hers grasping the sword now. A frenzied, violent awakening of beastial fury turned to a calm breath, and all the ethereal blood built up into a very, very naked man, stood there on surface tension that should be able to support neither.

His head hung enough for his thick mane of hair to temporarily hide his face like a curtain -- but even with it, she must surely recognize him already.

"Gahahaha...."

The laugh, too, is a familiar one, even coming from the coarse voice of vocal chords that only *just* finished reconstituting themselves.

"Good... We didn't even get to the good part yet..."

Even whispered and husky, that voice manages to sound incredibly eager for what is to come. For blood that is yet to be spilled. Slowly, that head lifts itself upwards, and a chilly ocean breeze manages to push that curtain of thick hair aside, to show the Bloodhound's smile. It's not the smile he had given to the kami mere hours ago, though. It's not even the smile he gives to people he merely messes with.

No, this is truly a smile of utter adoration. Which is probably more than she might have expected from someone who was quite literally restructured from literally *nothing* just seconds ago. Or even someone who'd found himself standing naked over the winter ocean. He doesn't seem to mind, though.

"Ain't that right... Hime-sama?"

[KATARINA]
Katarina shudders a little as connection is made. The surface of her skin ripples with an unnatural chill that leaves a carpet of goose flesh across her forearm.

Working with raw magic always created strange tactile feedback. Using a medium like an Ars provided the average NOL soldier a buffer between themselves and the Boundary, like plugging an appliance into a wall socket. By comparison she had gone to the power station and grabbed hold of an exposed cable. It was significantly more dangerous and most people couldn't even dream of shaping that unfiltered energy into something coherent. But she wasn't most people.

Her call is answered almost immediately. Water blasts into the air like a fountain, spraying her with cold foam and mist. A slight shifting of her thoughts directs the mana around her hand to spread out, shielding her from the worst of it. Under normal circumstances she might have been annoyed but the enthusiasm of her new pet only brings a twisted grin to her soft features. She had assumed it would require a much more involved ritual to reincarnate her subordinate but it seems all he needed was a little reminder.

The mage's fingers close down firmly over the hilt of the weapon, unafraid of the hungry presence within. She is the superior hunter here, the alpha of this small pack, the master of the monster within. Katarina twists her wrist to the side, tilting the blade of the deadly weapon as blood begins to flow unbidden down its length. She angles its tip out into empty space where there is enough room for the vital fluid to flow unimpeded.

The reconstruction of her subordinate is a fascinating process and her eyes widen with a mixture of interest and amusement as his essence is ripped from the veil and reconstituted piece by piece.

Ressurection magic is one of the hardest things to accomplish through fundamental means. Reaching into the Boundary to pluck a specific soul from the infinite oceans of possibility is all but impossible - unless one has some sort of a beacon to guide them. But even in doing so, a body of some sort is required to act as vessel for the soul. Either the original corpse restored to functionality or some sort of simulacrum or golem. An expensive and likewise challenging process.

But that doesn't seem to be the case here. Whatever sort of entity resides within this blade it clearly possesses a powerful talent for creation. Surprising for something that seems to be little more than a blood-thirsty beast. Then again, magic is an unimaginably complicated and vast system. What looks like the creation of a new vessel could simply be some sort of complex Ars that reconstructs something based on previous data. A magical photocopier, if you will. Perhaps one day she will have the time to sit down with the artifact and learn more about it.

At the moment, however, her attention is focused on the man now standing in front of her. The sadistic grin on her face shifts into something more affectionate as his hand closes over her own, an expression that few ever get to see. It had taken a near-death experience for her first personal subordinate to earn even a fraction of that. She wonders if Renka would be jealous of how quickly the mage had taken a liking to her new hound - or terrified that there was now another person who shared her... proclivities.

Her free hand reaches out, running cold metal fingers through Katsuro's wild mane of hair before sliding down to cup the side of the Bloodhound's face. Her eyes crinkle with pleasure at the affectionate nickname. If she is upset that he failed in his task of subduing the violent goddess she shows no signs of it in this moment.

"Of course, my pet," she coos, her voice melodic and soft. "There is always more blood to spill."

[KATSURO]
It's not entirely clear if the Bloodhound fully comprehends the privilege he has gotten to enjoy with this particular master. But he seems happy enough with it regardless, to the point of outright nuzzling his nose against the metal-covered fingers, even without getting to feel the warmth of the skin and flesh beneath the armor. If he was a real dog, there would definitely be a wagging tail there somewhere right now.

For that matter, Katsuro even parts his jaws for a brief few seconds to lightly bring his teeth around the base of her thumb. Or the steel shielding it, anyway -- not that there was enough pressure, anyway, to break skin. Nothing aggressive, more akin to playfully affetionate nips from a puppy.

"Yes," he rumbles against the gauntlet, just as he turns his head to settle his cheek against the surprisingly-affectionate metal palm, an almost dazed sort of smile directed back to her. "Way more... Especially..."

The Hound's head lifts away from her hand, leaning in towards her, close enough to lightly press his forehead against hers -- presuming she will allow such a gesture, anyway. But either way, a few whispered, truly *ecstatic* words flow from betwixt normally predatory lips, meant for her ears and no one else:

"We got to see a young god can bleed, too."

[KATARINA]
Katarina's smile falters slightly at those words. The high neck of her greatcoat shields the momentary change in expression from her subordinate's sight and she manages to keep the concern from reaching her eyes.

Of course, he had meant nothing particular by that statement other than to express his joy at being able to harm what should be an inviolable foe; a blood-thirsty beast licking his chops at the thought of further violence. But she had privileged knowledge - in this particular case about the presence of the gods in the modern world and what they are truly capable of. That Suzaku was somehow restrained from her full power is obvious, if for no other reason than that her hound is still here able to speak to her. A magic sword, no matter how powerful, would not have withstood the full might of a being who can command the very fabric of reality to do their bidding.

The Imperator herself is one such entity, as is her subordinate, the man masquerading about as Hazama. Katarina had been made privy to just how large the gap between human and god actually was. Very few had the privilege of being exposed to such majesty and surviving. And she had been granted their favor.

The idea of bleeding gods, even lesser ones, troubles her zealot's heart. Were the great Izanami to fall somehow...

All the more reason to do her job well, she thinks.

"Indeed," the young officer says, smiling again. "You have done well."

Her hand pulls away from his face and moves down to rest on the man's shoulder, squeezing the thick cords of muscle there in a gesture of both comfort and warning.

"But we must not allow ourselves to grow complacent. The goddess finds herself in an unusual situation. From all reports, whatever magic was used to bind her to the girl yet hampers her powers. Not to mention, she is a kami of rebirth. It may well be impossible to actually kill her, regardless of how much she bleeds."

[KATSURO]
Katsuro's nostrils flare. Taking in the air, and-- sussing out the change in the scents around him.

It makes the hound's smile suddenly recede. Usually the hound manages to maintain at minimum a jovial expression. Always some kind of smile. But what he manages to sense by scent alone suddenly makes all of that disappear. He even leans back subtly, to let himself get a more full look of his commanding officer.

The cause for that shift in his expression and disposition is allowed to be left aside for a moment, at least. Long enough for him to listen to hear words. His head dips slightly for just a few seconds in understanding, and his other hand moves to lay over hers on his bare shoulder.

"All the more reason to hunt her down again as quick as possible then. What might not die can still be shackled." Which... one might argue is exactly what has happened to him. But he seems perfectly happy to be where he is.

That being said, what he had just smelled still keeps his smile at bay. His hand turns away from hers, turning to settle it onto Katarina's own shoulder.

"This scent does not suit you, Hime-sama," he tells her outright. A bit blunt than would be perhaps considered appropriate from someone of his station, but... it is also carried with a tone akin to a dog who has sensed some kind of turmoil in their human. Which... well. "What worries you? I doubt it is the Phoenix."

He managed to smell the bloodlust in her the very instant she first went to find him. Perhaps him managing to suss something like this out too from her scent alone isn't as surprising after that.

That all put aside, his body *does* have faint hints of shivers by now, regardless of how much he is trying to push those aside for the sake of being a good attendant. The two have been stood there, over the freezing waters for a good bit now, and with absolutely *nothing* to shield him from the elements. Probably would have been too much to ask the sword to reconstruct his clothes too so he wouldn't have to risk losing his toes to frostbite, but what're you gonna do.

[KATARINA]
Katsuro's shift in demeanor is much more obvious than her own subtle change. Her eyebrow raises slightly at just how quickly her subordinate had picked up on the disquiet in her heart. As someone who has spent the majority of their life having to hide the true feelings in their heart behind a plastic smile it is somewhat alarming that her mask was so easily seen through. Sensing the corruption inside of her is one thing, picking up on something as small as a bit of concern is entirely different. Were the man not already loyal to her she might well have started to consider taking steps to ensure his silence.

Fortunately, she has nothing to fear from this creature. His disregard for politics and propriety makes the hound barely tolerable to the majority of her peers. The idea that any of them would take him seriously if he should somehow turn out to be less docile than he appears is almost laughable. Almost. Her innate paranoia prevents Katarina from ever fully trusting anyone but for the moment she need not fear.

Closing her crimson eyes, the mage inhales quietly and lets her breath out in a soft huff that sends a white puff of warmth out into the space between them.

"It is... a personal matter. Nothing that need trouble you."

Loyal or not, it isn't for her to decide who is allowed to know the truth. Perhaps one day her faithful pets will prove themselves worthy of that honor. Both the resourceful fox and the fearless hound would be valuable allies to her Radiance, of that Katarina has no doubt. But at the moment neither need be made privy to their true master's identity to do their jobs.

Pushing aside the matter of her concerns, Katarina turns her gaze to her subordinate once more and opens her mouth to speak. She stops, however, upon noticing his discomfort.

"Ah... my apologies, pet. I had assumed the ritual necessary to revive you would require more time and effort. I would have brought a spare uniform had I known it would be such a quick process."

Extending her hand towards Katsuro, she places it on his chest. A shimmering circle of interwoven runes, symbols of incredible beauty and complexity, spreads out beneath her palm as the young woman mutters soft words of power beneath her breath. The spell takes nearly a full minute to complete, the manipulation of such energies well outside of her normal wheelhouse. As the seconds tick past a dull orange glow begins to spread out from her gauntlet, opaque energy wrapping Katsuro's naked form like a Sailor Soldier transformation that never quite finishes. The glow proves both warm and mostly form-fitting, protecting him from both the frigid air and any wandering gazes they might encounter on the trip back.

"There. That should hold long enough for us to return."

[KATSURO]
The answer does not seem to particularly please Katsuro. The hound does not have much in the way of propriety, and frankly all reports suggest he largely lives his life by the way of hedonism even outside the purviews of violence. It should go to reason that he would, in fact, not trouble himself over such a thing, after she has said so.

But something is different here. It's not just that his outright supernatural sense of smell is able to suss out the worries in her heart even when she says they're nothing serious; surely he is able to do that with many others, too, and his reaction typically is usually one of laissez-faire and self-interest. But with her...

"It will trouble me."

For just a split second, even he feels surprised he is saying as much. A passing moment where starts to doubt wether his faculties are even his own anymore, if this woman has truly put some hypnotic spell on him. The bloodlust he first smelled in her excited him to the point of accepting her as a master, yes, but even then, to this extent?

But then again, she was the first who managed to do such a thing. And the words he chooses to speak out next, he is certain are truly his own.

"But I won't try to force you. You'll tell me when you are ready."

Why does he feel so calm when he says that? When was the last time he felt any kind of calm in his heart? Something besides the constant need to chase a thrill, be it through the joy of battle or some other, more earthly pleasures? Is it just because he quite literally just returned from the silent void of death just a minute earlier? No, that can't be it; even his resurrection was one that seemed to embody violence and primal desires.

It's the hound's turn to close his eyes, just when she is bringing her attention back to him. Some of that confusion might reflect in his expression, alongside the discomfort of being caught in such a freezing air.

It's fine, though. He can figure it out later. For now, the hound's master is in the middle of doing something else for him. When his amber eyes open again, he's following her hand to his broad chest. He says nothing, instead showing his own trust in her by simply staying still and allowing her to work her magics around him.

When the energy has completed cocooning about his form, he does draw his left hand away from her - the right still remains grasping hers over the hilt of his sword - to trace his now-glowing fingers over his equally-glowing chest.

"Cool," he rumbles out, and some of his usual presence returns in the way of a toothy smile. "Like a humanoid lightbulb now."

[KATARINA]
It's almost sweet how Katsuro worries himself over her state of mind. But in this particular instance, keeping his nose out of her business is not merely a matter of personal preference. The secrets dwelling within her twisted mind could very well up-end the entire Librarium if brought to light.

While she is confident that he would never willingly spill such critical information, there are plenty of ways to dig the truth out of someone without their consent. In that regard, Yuki Terumi had chosen well when he had revealed himself to the Shimotsuki scion. The grimoire embedded within her soul not only gave her the ability to sense the absolute truth but utterly obscured her own. The tainted melody of the World Song would interfere with any attempt to plunge her mind for secrets, most likely driving anyone foolish enough to try skimming through her warped thoughts as insane as she.

Had he been able to sense that aspect of her, she wonders, or was he simply relying the truth being too crazy to believe? Either way, the secrets are safest locked away inside of her mind.

The hound's reassurance that he will let the matter drop sets her at ease. Taking his word for it, she doesn't bother to respond, instead focusing on her spell craft until the comforting cocoon of warm light is in place. Her hand withdraws and lifts to cover her mouth demurely as she chuckles softly at his assessment of her work.

"Yes, well, it is a bit gaudy, I'll admit, but such magics were never my forte. Now, if we were to suddenly find ourselves in need of a grand symphony, you would struggle to find a more talented conductor."

Rolling her wrist in a brief flourish, Katarina conjures a long silvery saber into her grasp. Floating backwards a few meters to create some space, she closes her eyes and holds the weapon up as if it were a baton and begins to hum a soft melody. Her voice, gentle and lilting, seems to echo with an unnatural reverberation as if they standing inside of a vast cave or empty room.

The tip of her blade starts to dip up and down, moving with rhythmic grace as the girl conducts an invisible orchestra to match her tempo. At first, there is nothing but the melodic sound of her angelic voice being carried on the breeze. Steadily, however, she begins to weave an enchantment into the air and that quiet humming starts to swell into a haunting melody. Not louder, per se - if anything, the young mage's wispy voice grows even more ephemeral - but the sense of it becomes more intense and impossible to ignore, a pleasant vibration that settles somewhere in the center of the brain.

The aura of subtle magic that perpetually envelops the girl, enchanting all who draw near with a gentle suggestion of adoration and respect, blossoms into a full blown mental compulsion. Out here on the waves there is no one to hear her song save the faithful hound. She could amplify her spell, cast it out like a tidal wave to crash upon the nearby shores and draw the weak-willed towards her like a siren of legend.

The temptation to indulge her dark hidden urges for mayhem is powerful indeed, pulling at her in similar fashion to the enchantment she weaves. But her will is iron, forged in the crucible of necessity over the course of her lifetime. That being said, it has been quite some time since she sated her need for suffering. If she puts it off much longer then that iron will quickly start to rust.

And, perhaps this time, she need not hunt alone.

[KATSURO]
Katsuro's head tilts to the side in... well, a very hound-like manner. Still, he doesn't question her -- choosing instead to watch her silently. So that she might show him.

And show him she does. And he listens. Closely. The fact that she even begun to conduct such a melody now, with only him in earshot, might have surprised him at first, but ultimately he lets his own eyes close while he listens.

It would be so easy to just get lost in it, he realizes. Not just because of the magic that washes over him and tries to draw his soul even closer to her. It is not entirely clear if the mental compulsion within actually takes hold in him, but...

It is enough to make a wayvard bloodhound feel at home.

After a moment of letting the song that manages to resonate deep within himself carry through him a moment longer, the hound lets out a serene sigh, and opens his eyes to turn his smile upon the mage.

"Ya need not serenade me to make me yours, ya know. Still..."

His mastery of magic might not be such as hers, but there is enough there, at least, to let him stand over the water as she does. And enough to let him drift - if slowly - across the waves towards her, once her conducting has eventually slowed to a point he wont risk getting caught by the blade turned into a conductor's baton.

"...It is lovely."

Having said that, though, he halts in place, and lets his lips curve, slowly, into something much, much hungrier. A bare hint of teeth in a smile of growing bloodlust. There has been enough calm for his taste already.

"Perfect prelude for starting the hunt."

He reaches his glowing hand out towards her, then, palm up, while his gaze seeks out hers.

"Shall we, Hime-sama? I imagine there's a lot of work to do."

[KATARINA]
Katarina's magic wanes as her humming comes to an end, releasing the hound from its enticing pull. She opens her eyes to regard her subordinate with an enigmatic smile, a faint glimmer of lingering enchantment making those crimson orbs sparkle like rubies. The sword in her hand bursts into fragments that quickly burn away into soft motes of light, tiny fireflies that swirl around the girl before drifting away in the ocean breeze.

"Ahhh..."

A small pleased sigh escapes the mage's lips and she rolls her shoulders as if working out a kink that had been bothering her for quite some time.

"It has been far too long."

Constructing the new facilities in North America has been her sole focus for nearly six months now. It has been challenging work, not least of all for the lack of logistical support the entire project has received, both from the government and the home office. But in some ways that challenge has been rather refreshing. It's one thing to create the vast impressive cathedrals and fortresses that the NOL is known for with an effectively unlimited amount of material and manpower. To recreate such works on a tight budget has required her to be at the top of her game.

But, fulfilling or not, the effort it has required from her has allowed precious little time for rest and relaxation. That alone would make many of her fellow nobles balk at the task, indolent creatures that they are. In her case, however, the lack of free time has put her in a genuinely dangerous position. The corruption of the Music Box needs release and the longer she allows it to build up the more... messy the eventual eruption from within.

Most times she has been able to, if not completely blow off that pressure, at least lessen it somewhat by engaging the foes of the Librarium in combat. Thrusting her blade into a squealing dark stalker was satisfying enough to scratch the itch. A temporary reprieve but one that ultimately only made the rash worse. And she hasn't even been allowed that tiny little bit of relief.

The shudder of pleasure running down her body takes on a slightly more chilling sensation at the thought of the all the death she will have to cause to reign in her sinful heart. Her head tilts slightly, crimson gaze shifting away from Katsuro and towards the gaping hole burned into the city shore. The corner of her delicate mouth pulls upwards on one side, twisting her smile into a mischievous grin that mirrors the blood-thirsty smirk of her hound as revelation strikes.

"Indeed."

Katarina turns her attention back to the glowing form of her subordinate. Her back straightens a little as she delicately extends her mailed fingers to rest in his upturned palm, a lady of noble blood gracing her faithful knight with the honor of taking her hand.

In the moment that their eyes meet, there is a brief flash of something wicked and sinister that crosses her pale expression, the mask slipping ever so slightly. Katsuro had senses the darkness and hunger lurking inside of her upon their first meeting but thus far she has never yet had the chance to let him truly see what sort of monster had taken him under her care. Now the opportunity has come and she can't help but feel a little giddy at the prospect of seeing his reaction to the truth about which she will sing as the World Song compels her to act.

"Tonight we hunt, my pet. And we have that lost little bird to thank for the opportunity."

[KATSURO]
Katsuro had his suspicions about the beast lurking behind the beautific features of the noblegirl. Hopes, even. But indeed, the only concrete things he has managed to witness of it have been glimpses -- something still mostly restrained. He hasn't seen the true depths of it, of what she is truly capable of.

Which is why he finds himself shivering giddily at the prospect of seeing her unleash herself on the world now. A small sound of joyful anticipation even leaves his lips and his eyes take on a truly adoring look.

"I've waited to hear you say that,"

His hand squeezes gently onto her iron-clad fingers, and he shifts himself to float over the water's surface, slowly moving to her side while maintaining his gentle hold on her hand over his palm. As though he were the loyal knight gently escorting the proper young lady he has been charged with by the hand.

Sure, the lady he is to be escorting might be a horrible monster, but all the more reason for him to be so happy to do so. Seeing the glimpse of the monster inside her is what made him so eager to serve her in the first place.

A monster finding a monster.

He turns a smile to her then, before the two of them set off. A smile of anticipation of the blood he is sure will be spilled. A smile of nearly-worshipful adoration towards her that only seems to grow stronger each time they interact.

"Waited to see the true you."

[KATARINA]
The true you.

Even now, it feels somewhat strange to consider that. Her relationship with the grimoire that now resides within her soul has always been a complicated one. When she had first inherited it, the Music Box had been nothing but beneficial. She could hear the enchanting music of the World Song with crystalline clarity, a glimpse into the inner harmony of the universe that flowed through her veins sweeter than any wine. It had been like picking up a seashell and putting it to her ear, hearing the not the ocean but the symphony of nature itself, every little element of creation interwoven into a beautiful harmonious melody.

Over time, however, that celestial chorus began to grow stale and rotten, twisting into a nightmarish mockery of ultimate beauty. For a long time, Katarina had struggled against the horrific screeching cacophony. Her sanity quickly started to fray, driving the once quiet and kind young noble towards the end of her rope. It was through this crucible of torture and suffering that her darker side had started to rise to the fore.

Since coming to realize the source of her transformation, she has wondered if such blackness existed within her before joining with the grimoire. Certainly, the girl had entertained many a dark thought; feelings of bitterness and jealousy; disdain for her so-called peers who coasted by on their family names rather than earning respect through their own efforts; contempt for the lower class, who seemed to do nothing but moan and whine about those better off rather than trying to improve their own lives. But surely that was not unique to her?

%In the end, it matters not whether the Music Box was responsible for warping her mind with its power or simply brought forth an aspect of herself that she never realized was there. Katarina had recognized her own dark impulses, come to terms with them, and ultimately, embraced them. The grimoire gave her too much power to simply turn away from it, assuming that was even possible. And what few lingering doubts on the matter she'd had left were dispelled into dust the moment that Hazama had revealed to her the truth.

For what better servant could a goddess of death and destruction ask for than a gleeful murderer such as she?

The mage's smile returns to its carefully neutral look of enigmatic amusement. Her fingers clasp tightly around Katsuro's and she extends the magics that hold her aloft out to envelop him as well. She gives her hound one last sidelong glance, eyes scrunching up with playful mischief, then turns her gaze to the horizon and ferries them both homewards on chariots of wind.

Log created on 15:05:16 01/15/2024 by Katarina, and last modified on 15:35:50 01/22/2024.