Description: In the wake of Igniz's startling defeat, his final stand reducing Italy to nothing more than a flooding crater, Misty approaches Nameless with orders that he is to go and seek out the man responsible for murdering a God: Ash Crimson. Eve is recruited to assist him in this endeavor and together they track Ash to a hospital in Athens, the furthest the enigmatic Frenchman has been able to travel when his burden is not luggage but Shen Woo, who has yet to regain consciousness. Willing to be the villain they see him as, Ash intends to make an example out of Nameless and Eve, if only so the rest of the NESTS Cartel will think twice before sending anymore assassins his way.
There has been an adventure. An adventure of fantastic and rediculous proportions. It was a land so far away but so very close. A place that teemed with wonders and the unknown. Shen Woo fucking punched everything in that land until there was nothing left to punch. When the last punch had landed and all was ruin around him, the world had gone dark. Deep dark, he felt heavy, tired, his throat was dry and there were things sticking to him and into him... What the hell?!
His peacful, vacant expression shifted, brows quivering into a slight furrow as his shoulders shifted. A breath drawn was loosed in a lethargic grunt. HE felt numb, entirely numb... and heavy. He nearly had to take a pry bar to his eyelids to wedge them open, they drew away and snapped back down instantly, light flooded in, painful and intense. It took several moments before the world beyond his eyelids was something more than just a intense glare. With features worked into a scowl, Shen Woo regarded the world. A room, clean and boring, the floor was empty of laundry. It wasn't his. Hospital then... Why would he be-
Void, nothing, freezing, agony, dark, nothing.
Oh yeah...
His head turned further and found a shape, a person, lithe and hunched. Platinum blonde hair splayed across the bed to the side of his legs, a hand stretched towards his own. Wheels creaked and groaned inside of his head as the hamsters that ran them were kicked back into motion. Ash.
His lips parted, dry, cracked. His voice was no better, words catchin in the desert of his throat and erupting in a coughing jag before he could even pronounce the monosyllabic word that was the name of his companion.
For a man who claims that he is uncaring and indifferent, Ash certainly has been making a habit of contradicting himself. He sits in a chair at the bedside of Shen Woo, his only friend in the world, and the slender Frenchman's upper half is draped across the covers. One arm is stretched out, fingers reaching, and the other remains tucked beneath his fair head. Blonde hair fans out on white sheets and blanket alike, to the point where it's difficult to tell where the crisp covers end and the flaxen strands begin. His eyes are closed, sleep having claimed him however briefly, lips slightly parted and his breathing shallow.
Once or twice, the flamewielder appears to stir, mumbling softly, but he lapses back into slumber quickly enough.
He dreams of nothing in particular, the leg in its cast set at a strange angle and numb. Ash shifts, slowly, a blue iris can be seen as one eye lazily cracks open. There is coughing and the bed shudders -- that causes the thin European to start, rudely awoken. Bolting upright, a fearful and blurry gaze searches for the door in the darkened room. It's closed, and his head starts to turn. "Shen?" Crimson says stupidly, and then his lips curve into a relaxed smile. "Welcome back..." Stretching like a cat, this is interrupted by a wince. The flamboyant freckle-faced fighter curls in, cupping his cracked ribs. "Was wondering..." But, he trails off.
"Well, I'm glad that you're awake."
A nervous laugh is punctuated by another cringe, because it's painful. He won't be doing much of that anymore, I assure you. Ash drags his lithe form from decorating the bedsheets, now sitting up properly. His burned hands with their melted nails are the last thing to leave the covers. "We're in Athens." He would gesture, but decides that doing so would be pointless. When the view is a hospital room, they could be on the damn Moon and it wouldn't matter, except that there'd be no oxygen. "You could say that I rescued you. Guess that means you owe me, oui? Ahaha~" Douche.
The cast, his hands, so Ash didn't make it out of that unscathed either. Shen Woo knew how the frenchman loved his french-tipped nails, the days on end he spent decortating them with his little brush, stylizing them like the most gargantuan fruit that the world has ever seen, sitting on the couch and painting his toenails while he just sat on the couch and ate fruit loops because he was such a massive g'damn fruit loop himself. Ash, you weirdo. Still, the sight... it sincerely pained him. Sincerely! When the chord was plucked in his heart and he felt it's sombre note reverbarate through him, Shen Woo suspected antics akin to Metro City. Sadly, these were genuine. The leg nor the wince recieved such pity. Ash had been being a jerk so he at least deserved those. That's right, even comatose, he recalled you were a jerk, fuck you Limpy McCringealot!
Grunting his acknowledgment of their location but forestalling the issue of who owes who what, Shen Woo cast his eyes about once more and found himself looking at the ever present pitcher of water that lurked nearby. Reaching, his hand bypassed the cup and coiled around the pitcher's handle alone. He treated that thing like a oversized mug, plucking the lid from the top and tipping it to his lips. He drank heavily, tilting the bottom ever upwards as his adam's apple rose and fell with each strong pull atg it's contents. More than just a little washed past his mouth and down the corners, trailing along jawline and chin as it fell to shoulders and chest, the cold splash almost, almost shaking him from his gluttonous binge... on water.
When it is over, the empty pitcher thumped down on the bedside stand and Shen loosed a satisfied gasp for air. His voice, now unhindered by the dry rasp that was his throat, came at last, "So, we win?" he wondered, lifting his gaze to Ash's once more.
D'aww, Shen totally loves him. Seeing him in such a state, it pulls at the brawler's heartstrings.
LOL GROSS.
His head cants to one side, the long blonde fringe spilling across his freckled features and obscuring them. He watches Shen drink deeply from the pitcher only because the self-styled 'God of Battle' is the most interesting thing in the room. Ash still clutches at his cracked ribs, but in time, the pain ebbs and he can relax with caution. The slender man's singed fingers comb pale strands from his even paler face. Half-lidded eyes blink the last of sleep away.
Were he nicer and more considerate, Crimson might've offered to fetch something a little more fresh or at least colder for Shen. No such luck, that's what befriending an arrogant Frenchman nets you.
The lithe flamewielder eases back in his seat, folding his arms across his midsection. It is slightly uncomfortable. Wondering whether his question will be answered first or if Shen is going to address something else, Ash waits. He deserves a medal for such patience. Eventually, rubbing at his sore neck, there is only one thing to acknowledge. Just a simple, simple question of the brawler's own. "Win?" He muses, baffled but quick to catch on.
An enigmatic smile unfolds across his thin lips, "Saa, that would depend on your definition of 'winning'." Ash shifts, the heel of his cast scraping the polished white floor of the hospital room. He cares not for such things, anticipating the day in which it will be removed and he can regain some feeling in his damn toes. "At the very least, the faux dieu is gone and the Time Sphere has been completely shattered." A beat. "There's just nothing left of Italy..." That weighs heavily on him, yet it steels his resolve. He will reset time, if only to take away the pain of having killed so many on that day, not just Igniz.
See, Ash is not a good man, but he isn't evil. Killing isn't part of his M.O. He regrets it, wishes to change it...
Blue eyes flicker to Shen, searching his face, "I know it's my fault, but don't do that again." Believe it or not, that's as close as he'll get to an apology. It's as close as Ash will get to saying that he actually likes having Shen around. That Shen actually means something to him, that he has more value than just a pawn... This feels strange to the flamewielder, who has always kept others at a distance, even the one he was closest to. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the thin fighter looks away and tries to cover for this lapse that makes him seem... almost human. "It would inconvenience me, after all." He tucks away flaxen strands behind smallish ears and frowns faintly. There is an uncomfortable shifting of position that follows, cast scraping on the floor once again.
Nothing left of... The entire joint's just gone?! Shen Woo's brow furrows, slender blonde slashes lunging at one another. How does that even work, was the landmass missing, is it just gone, nothing there? Ash must be exagerating. Still, if they didn't have Ash's thing but the guy that /did/ have the thing doesn't have the thing anymore... He can count that as a win. "Good." Shen Woo deems it, adjusting himself along the bed so that he can prop his back up against the headboard after crawling along with his elbows against the matress and scooting his booty along. "Wordy bastard..." grunted Shen Woo bitterly.
With the request or maybe the command, Shen Woo gave a snort. Air venting through his nose as his nostrils flared to expell his feigned defiance, "Yeah, like I had a friggen say in it." had he, Igniz would be able to count his teeth on one hand... Now he wasn't counting much of anything, was he? Beating someone up is no good if they're not around anymore to know they got beaten up! When word of inconveniencing came around, Shen lofted a brow upwards, fixing Ash with a quizical look, "Inconv-" it may have had too many syllables, Shen Woo gave up the effort, "Oy, I'm the one you're always causing trouble for, serves you right that you catch some from me!" it's probably more like 50/50 though. Still, Shen Woo punctuates the entire matter by jabbing a thumb into his chest before letting it fall back to his lap. "I didn't like any of that flashy special effects crap anyway... Going after a guy like that, what the hell?!" he muttered absently, "Besides, didn'ty you have shit you needed to do, how long have you been waiting on me in here, did you put a butt-groove in that chair just lazing around?"
It seems as though his friend may require a moment to process this information, so a moment he is granted. Practically twiddling his thumbs while he waits, the Frenchman hums tunelessly to himself. His one good leg crosses over the other, bouncing while he tries his best to dispell this odd feeling that he is wholely unaccustomed to. Ash isn't sure that he cares for this entire 'giving a shit about other people' thing. It might be the biggest bother that he has ever been forced to endure, as rewarding as it is.
Finally, after what might seem like an eternity, the lithe flamewielder is rocked from his thoughts. "Pardonnez moi?" Crimson sounds confused, one eyebrow cutting a high arc on his forehead and disappearing into the pale fringe. He reaches up to tangle thin fingers in his platinum blonde hair, brushing the tips against his freckled cheek. Why is that good, Shen? Does the mass loss of life mean nothing to you? Who's a wordy bast-- Oh. Ash breathes, "I suppose so?" while still coming across as though he is completely uncertain. It could be an act, but his lips are still turned down at the corners, suggesting otherwise.
"Feh, connard." Their eyes meet, sky blue lifted to earthy brown, but Ash looks away first, directing his gaze somewhere off to the side at nothing. "Really. I'm always cleaning up after you around the house, and..." His taunting is so half-hearted that the European gives up, finding that he doesn't have the energy to continue. Of course, the self-styled 'God of Battle' has no such restraint, bothering his quiet and almost solemn companion. At the very end, it leaves the effeminate flamewielder with a choice: He can admit to being worried, or... "Don't flatter yourself, I haven't been waiting on you, Shen. There was just nothing else for me to do anymore..." Obvious lie is obvious. Don't ask how, but somehow he snuck off to meet with Saiki and was told to wait for the end of days. That is not the Frenchman's plan, but he couldn't bring himself to just up and leave yet...
It must be very lonely, waking up all alone after nearly being killed... Somehow, Ash found himself unable to do that to his only real friend.
Clasping his hands together, they're set in his lap. The bouncing of his good leg grows more pronounced. "Now, I can just leave you here to recover. Ah, a few weeks of peace and quiet, what will I do with my time? Ahahaha." His forced laughter trails off into silence, and though there's nothing to see, his head turns to stare off into the darkness beyond the window. Crimson can see neither stars nor lights from the street -- they must be pretty high up. Just how astute is the Shanghai-born brawler? In Ash's experience, not very, but sometimes Shen does manage to surprise him.
"You know I can't understand a goddamn word you're saying. dumbass." Snarls Shen Woo as he relaxs as best he can on the strange, sterile matress with... various things beneath or inside of him. His attention rests on Ash for... well, as it was said, there is nothing more intersting to Ash in this room than Shen and to Shen, there is nothing more interesting anywhere than Ash.
The wheels in his head grind and work, balking harshly from lack of use. Grinding together, they mill through Ash's claim. It smelled wrong. He felt weak, weaker than ever, it had been some time... and Ash had been there throughout? "Yeah, sure." Shen Woo let the implications go, his vision drifting. He would have done the same... but Ash had so many more things to do. All Shen could ever get up to was follow Ash, usually. Thoughts rumbled around in the vacant spoace between his ears, they pulled down cobwebs and scattered the dust around into a thinner layer than it had been in.
He is not so clever as to not fall for Ash's bait, he bites and the hook goes deep. "What?!" he snapped, attention whipping around to Ash once more, body aching as he bolted up into a seated position. "What the hell makes you think I'm just going to sit here on my ass and let you walk off and get your head beat in by some other special effects weirdo!?" He snarled, grabbing what might have been a sensor or a IV and ripping it free, tape and tube pulled away with a firm yank. "I'm fine, just tired from having slept too much. Let's get the hell out of here." he continued as he unbridled himself from the equipment, nasal tubes pulling free of his nostrils in a effort that made his stomache churn. He was only given pause when he lifted his blankets and spotted the tube that snaked beneath his gown... That wasn't going to be pleasant.
The NESTS organisation had a lot of ressources spread across the world and plenty of field agents. With enough networking and work behind the scenes, a small group of renegade NESTS agents have hunted down the ones responsible for all the mess in their organisation. The ones they deemed responsible for the loss of their cherished leader. Those who were fiercely loyal to him have engaged in a relentless witch hunt for those men and they would know no rest until they had found them and avenged his death.
At long last, Nameless and Eve were able to find a trail left by the duo they were hunting, and they tracked them down to a particular hospital and Greece. The wait had been too long, and nothing could hold on their zealous and burning need for revenge. It might have clouded their judgements, but the path to for them to follow was clear in their mind : get in and find Ash Crimson.
The duo make their way inside, but they rapidly go their seperate ways : Eve was heading straight for the underground part of the hopsital. Only one security guard dared to stand in her way. "Hold it there! You can't be here, you're on the wro..."
Zaps. A sudden and quick discharge sends him off against the wall, knocking him unconcious... Eve kneels by his side, taking his security guards, a smirk spreading on her lips. It was all she needed for the rest. She presses on her earpiece and says, "Should be just a few more minutes..."
A few minutes later...
A loud thunderous noise can be heard echoing through the building, as if lightning had just struck the building. The lights flicker dangerous for a moment, going dark for a second and then back up on emergency electricity... Alas, a few seconds later more loud cracks and booms can be heard and the lights keep on flickering, casting the hospital literally in the dark once more safe for certains emergency lights to show the proper exits.
Eve had begun the beachhead.
Following along beside her, an obscured teenager stands, supervising. He did not intervene when she murdered the innocent man who had the misfortune to stumble upon them. It was a necessary sacrifice. They had an important mission, from Misty herself. They had found the one who murdered their leader. And they would make him pay for it. But there had to be a method to their actions. A careful dilligence to it. Watching Eve from the depths of his black hood, the teenager is silent. Her ability to kill was impressive. But what about her will towards destruction?
The boy would soon learn she was equally competent at that as well.
As the hospital becomes cast into the darkness, there is shouting and shrieking. Soon, in the darkness, there is motion. Movement. Eve's partner was already on the move. His cloak's long tatters were writhing and twitching behind him as he surges through the hospital hallways, leaping over wheelchair and past patient with impossible speeds.
The teenager's driven charge stops dead as he reaches a nurse.
She doesn't have time to react before the teenager clutches her by the throat. Slamming her against the wall, the women struggles to scream, as the boy keeps her windpipe shut. He looks up, a glimpse of the teenager's eyes peeking from under the hood. In his free hand, he draws up his quicksilver glove, covered in fluid ice. The glove morphs and flows, shaping itself into a flat blade. And drawing it back, the teenager levels it between her eyes. And softly, but firmly, he asks her.
"Shen Woo."
"Where is he."
D..dumbass? The dumbest ass around these parts just so happens to be Shen Woo. Out of the kindness of his blackened heart, the Frenchman refrains from making the obvious point. He simply blinks and dismisses his companion with the blithe wave of a burned hand, "Oui, I am aware." Ash leans back in his chair, his blank stare still trained on the window. A sigh escapes past slightly parted lips. Maybe he's bored.
It is good of the brawler to resist and avoid questioning him; had he contradicted the lithe flamewielder, any attempts to garner information regarding his activities and plans would be met with unwelcoming road blocks and resistance. Moving gingerly to stretch a second time, his companion seizes the bait that is his half-hearted teasing, what. Ash sweeps back lengthy locks of platinum blonde hair, fixing Shen with a look that could be amused, but it's difficult to tell. "You're not going anywhere, and don't worry, je t'aime--"
Ash makes a noise that sounds like, '!!!'
He surges forwards, reaching to grab at his friend's wrist. A little too late, as he's already pulled the intravenous drip from his arm, but hopefully to stop him from actually getting up. No doubt Shen has a catheter and who knows what else. These are not thoughts that the Frenchman cares to have. "Lay down, tu es fou! You've been unconscious for a week and you'll just get in the way until you're fully recovered!" He almost spills the beans, almost willingly shares that he's concerned for the self-styled 'God of Battle' and his well-being, but the moment the words breach the barrier of his lips, they're wrested away from him. Head tilting back, hold growing slack, Ash peers at the ceiling, the lights. His jaw hangs open, his freckled face wearing an expression of wonder.
One flicker, two. The fluorescent hospital light fixtures grow brighter, then pop. The white room is now as dark as the night outside. Eyes like the clear sky struggle to adjust. His cracked ribs protest to the position he's in, halfway risen and arm extended to its limit. Moments later, emergency lighting enables him to see, but it's dim. He takes a second to search Shen's face and withdraws. Ash has a bad feeling about this.
"If you leave this bed, I'll put you in traction."
Ash swings his broken leg out, cast thumping on the polished linoleum once it's set down. The slender fighter follows, briefly gripping the edge of the bed so that it may aid him to stand. He walks awkwardly, but with as much of his usual swagger as he is able, limping to the door.
When his fingers grace the cool and soothing metal of the handle, it's pitch-black once more. He can't see through the rectangular viewing window that runs perpendicular to the floor. He can only hear mumbling coming from beyond this space. Yes, it definitely doesn't feel right... Ash gently turns the handle, easing the door open a small crack and straining to listen. A terrorist threat? Another disaster? Never does it cross his mind that there are assassins here... And soon they will be upon him. It will be the biggest mistake of each of their lives.
A week, a entire week and he had been just laying there. No wonder he felt so weak.
His hands stayed by the frantic frenchman, Shen Woo struggles for just a moment. Of the two of them, Ash was the strongest, not in muscle but Ash had always been the stronger. All Shen Woo ever had was his bull-strong brawn. When Ash takes hold of him, he finds that the good Mr. Crimson is not so easily shrugged off as he might have been before. Much like his brain, his muscles had suffered in their disuse. It is a cold splash to him, shocking and sobering... "Shut up, I'll-" he can't quite manage to finish the threat. There is a sound like thunder from within rather than without and the lights flicker. His gaze follows Ash's, turned up towards the light fixture, brows furrowing. "What kind of crappy place did you stick me in that they can't even pay their light bill?" Shen Woo jeers with what remains of the piss and vinager that make up his charming personality.
There is quiet, dark. For a moment, just a moment, Shen Woo let the ire bleed away. The atmosphere changed, it felt wrong, something was wrong. His jaw set, teeth ground...
He was given a warning, "Shut up and just hurry back." he replied, arms folding one over the other, "This place is getting creepy." feigned complience. He waited, watched, attention fixed at the space in the darkness that Ash supposedly occupied.
"Intensive care ward..."
That is all the woman says. And for that, Nameless is merciful. Hurling her aside, the teenager smashes her into a wheelchair. As she staggers around, body broken, the boy is already on the move. Hand to his ear, he begins to chatter, relaying the message to his partner. "Eve. J Prime here. Target is being held in the Intensive Care Ward. We will meet there." The teenager did not know where the ICW was. But he knew how he could find out.
The teenager looks at a sign by an elevator, showing which floor the ICW was on.
The stranger forces his icy glove into the door slot on the elevator. With little effort, he forces the doors of the elevator open. The actual elevator was not on this floor, but further. That was not a problem for the assassin, as he jumps into the depths. Pouncing on the wall, he begins leaping from side to side, bounding up the shaft. It wouldn't be long before he reached the 5th floor, where Shen Woo stayed. But the NESTS assassins were after Ash.
Why were they looking for Shen Woo?
Each agent of the organisation served a different purpose. Eve's predisposition made her a perfect instrument of destruction and she had been trained that way. There was no way she could keep up with her partner's speed, but once her deed of destruction was done, Eve went straight for a set of stairs. With the elevators out, it was the easiest way up, and Eve knew they wouldn't find their target on the first floor.
"On my way," Eve replies. They had studied the plans just enough for her to recall on which floor this was : fifth one. Excellent. Hopefully, everything will go as they planned...
Meanwhile, in the intensive card ward...
The doctors and nurses on the floor were running wild, barking orders to each other to check in the patients who were depending on machines to stay alive. They did not have the time to discuss what might have happened, many lives were at stakes here, but someone shouted, "Why is it taking so long?! Why didn't the emergency power generators kick in already!?" One thing was certain from the chaotic way the staff was acting : this was not your average power failure and unless the power went back on, more than a handful of the patients of this hospital would die.
Necessary collateral damage, alas.
A few moments later, Eve finally reaches the fifth floor. She had no trouble making her way in this shroud of darkness -- she has built up enough static electricity around of her that the phosphorecent tubes on the ceilling flickers weakly as she passes through. This particular phenomena and the dim-light catches the attention of the nurses, who stares at the girl with a bit of fright on their features.
Eve frowns and glares at the nurses, "Where's Shen Woo?" She asks.
Her body crackles menacingly, building up more electricity, causing her hair to awkwardly rise up over her head, but also causing the lights from the phosphorecent tubes to glow more brilliantly.
Why is it that these two assassins pursue Shen Woo so relentlessly? The brawler didn't murder the lovable Igniz. No, that responsibility lies solely with Ash Crimson. Shouldn't they be seeking him, instead? Could it be...
Sounds of frantic scrambling come from the hall, doctors issuing orders to the staff to stabilize high risk patients, as the pose before mine has already established. Ash listens for something that isn't a man or woman in uniform, and somewhere down at the end of the corridor, a child whines to his mother that he is scared. I guess they were visiting when there was a clap like thunder, a rumble deep in the bowels of the hospital, and then lights went kaput.
Nurses hurry past, the slender Frenchman able to catch bits and pieces of their conversations. Rumours are already circulating and spreading like wild fire, theories become outlandish proposals in seconds. Ash scoffs and then Shen says to hurry back. "I'm not leaving." He replies, and not in the childish way an ex-girlfriend might. It's a simple statement of fact and informing the punch-happy meatsack that he had misinterpreted Crimson's intentions.
Fluorescent light fixtures spark and flicker. While entirely unworthy of note to some, Ash is drawn to this phenomenom like a moth to flame. Is this it, this person the cause of the sickening pit that his stomach has become? Who knows. A bit more than just the French flamewielder's nose is stuck out, trying to discern the interloper from others. "Oho?" The thin European is only interested for as long as it takes for Eve to ask, 'Where's Shen Woo?'
"Tu te fous de ma gueule..." He swears under his breath.
Ash pushes the door open fully, standing in the entrance, illuminated by a faint emerald aura. His leg may be in a cast and the blonde isn't tall enough to be considered vertically intimidating, but when his freckled face splits with a chilling smile, it comes together. Crimson ascends. He is like a wrathful God, and though his tone is soft and musical, his words are laced with thinly veiled threats, "I'm afraid that Shen isn't entertaining visitors right now, cherie. If you have a message for him, I'll be happy to, ah, pass it along." His knuckles pop when delicate fingers curl in towards his palms. The thin Frenchman folds his arms against his middle. This is Eve's only chance to walk away. What will she do?
A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad realization flashes across the brain of Shen Woo's player. Shen has become a distressed damsel and Ash his knight. Images of the burly brawler bound in billowing, ballroom gowns with frills and ruffles abound. Ash strike a better figure in plate and chain but that is not the point and the gauntlets would likely hide his nails to the frenchman's displeasure.
Bedridden, Shen Woo can only squint against the lantern that Ash has become, his aura offering light where so few was available a moment ago. His name comes up and Shen Woo is.. flummoxed. He has always simply been a hanger on, people occasionally sought him out to get their faces adjusted but this was much more grandoise, much more planned. This was Ash brand trouble but why would they seek him?
"Oy Ash, is that the nurse? Tell'er I need some more damn water and a sandwich... and someone to take this thing out of my dick!" he barks at Ash's back. He could go one, he wants to go on, how he wants to go one... but now seems a poor time to run off at the mouth. Instead, he adjusts himself, reaching out and drawing the IV stand a little closer to his bedside, it's bulk could make for a crutch in a pinch, a bludgeon in a party.
Eve seems surprised that someone actually speaks to her so directly. The seldom lightning arcs and sparks that erupts out of the extremities of her bodies tend to frighten and silence most persons. She turns on her heels to face the man who talked to her. After a cursorary evaluation, the surprise on her features fades away and is replaced by a sadistic rictus.
The emerald aura around of him and his attitude were enough for Eve. It was him. Ash Crimson, the one who had to pay. The one who had to die. Her grim grin grows only wider at the thought. There was no turning back now, no doubt in her mind.
"I care not for Shen Woo," Eve replies. She glares at Ash, eyes fixed on him, as if she was hoping to kill him with her glare. Though there was more to it than meets the eyes, and something anormal was going on around of her.
The lights from the fluorescent tube glows and sparkles even more brightly, small arcs of electricity builds up around of Eve, crackling whenever they burst from her randomly, as if she was unable to hold into her all the electric charges she was building up, "I've come for, Ash Crimson," She moistens her lips and adds, "To avenge Igniz..." Anger makes her hands tighten into fists, "I will -kill- you with my bare hands, I swear it, even if that's the last thing I'll do!" She shouts, the surge of electricty that goes through her causing some of the fluorescent tube above of her to literally burst from it, showering her with glass shards.
COMBATSYS: Eve has started a fight here.
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Eve 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Eve gathers her will.
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Eve 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Ash has joined the fight here on the top side.
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Ash 0|-------|-------
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Eve 1/-------/=======|
Eve may not care for Shen Woo.
But it wasn't her job to.
The teenager pulls open the elevator doors on the fifth floor. It is dark. He hears the crying of children. The suffering of innocents. This was dirty work. He wouldn't touch them though. Not unless he needed to. Slipping through the hallways, the cloak billowing behind him, he hears Eve. She was fast and efficient. This was good.
But Ash was there.
The teenager slips out of sight again. Hopefully he wasn't seen. The room he was in... had to be the target. Ash was there, he could engage now. But why wasn't he striking? Instead, he was moving down another hallway, perpendicular to the one where Eve and Ash was engaged. This was an assassination. Bringing a hand to his ear, he relays the message. "Keep him occupied. I have this." Rushing into one of the other rooms, he sees an old man on his death bed, with his daughter. Stumbling back, she begins to draw in a breath for a scream.
She is cut short by the flash of ice, tearing open her throat.
The boy was upon her in a flash. The sound never left her lips. He stares into her terrified eyes, as she silently begins to pass on. The old man tries to shout as his daughter is struck down. The teenager is upon him in the same, smooth motion, pulling his pillow from underneath his head. There is enough for a mutter, before the pillow is upon the old man's face. The teenager pressed down, smothering him. This would take too long. As blood drips down from his icy glove, he positions its palm above the pillow, as the feeble old man struggle. The glove suddenly jolts, piercing the pillow with a single spike of ice.
The man no longer moves.
A deep crimson begins to ooze through the pillow, as the boy releases it. This was a necessary. They would have blown his cover. He had to move with stealth. He couldn't draw attention to himself. Eve was the weaker of the two. If he presented himself as a threat... then Ash would focus on him. If he was strong enough to kill Igniz... it was wasteful to spar with him. The teenager approaches the window, opening it. Peering outside, he looks down the hospital, to the bend around it. Counting the windows, he pinpoints the room that Ash was standing in front of. He had to do this. He swiftly climbs through the window, his icy glove digging into the wall.
And he is outside the hospital, clinging to the parapets.
Are electrokinetics common? Ash has no idea. Until now, he'd only ever met one. If Benimaru is any indication, there's nothing to fear. They're not particularly scary, not to him. A little shocking, perhaps...
Ha /HA/!
Seriously, all puns aside, he doesn't react to Eve and her electrokinesis because there really is no reason to, and her chi seems... harsh and inexperienced. Sigh. It's like his expression says, 'Really? This is the best you could do?'
Shen gets his shout on and he has about as much delicacy as a punch to the nuts. When he yells at Ash to inform the nurse to remove that catheter from his weewee, the Frenchman twitches. His entire body reacts with revulsion and rejection, the bridge of his freckled nose wrinkling in disgust. "You are absolutely /vile/, I hope you know that." He snaps, sparing one jerky look at his bedridden companion before turning back and continuing to block the doorway. Yes, like a knight in shining armor. I might have laughed at the thought of the self-styled 'God of Battle' in a dress, acting the part of damsel and all.
Blue eyes take in the approach of this... girl. Her flickering frame, her stranger hair. It could be his imagination, but he swears that the hall is growing brighter the longer he observes Eve in silence. She drops an interesting hint for him, one that you can be certain Ash tucks away in the recesses of his mind: There's more than one. "Cute..." Distracted, he moves to disregard the NESTS... assassin, but stops. You call that a glare? Hmph. The flamewielder sniffs, appearing haughty and foul-tempered. "Ahh~hhh, you're no match for me." Thin shoulders roll in a carefree shrug. "I hope you don't regret this."
She had her chance to run.
Maybe his intuition was wrong, maybe this is as bad as it'll get, just some punk threatening Shen, threatening his life? Does she even know how little that bothers him?
While the European can admire her passion (must take a lot of effort, though), that's about all. Even after overcharging the fluorescent tubing overhead until it bursts, Ash shielding his head and hair to the best of his ability, please. Unrefined and out of control. "Ahahaha--ow ow." The flamewielder bends double, clutching at his cracked ribs. He still trembles with barely contained mirth. "All right, to business. I'll finish this in one blow and then I'm going to hunt down the other one. No hard feelings, cherie, oui? Bonne chance!"
See that cast? Yeah. It's like a battering ram, and the Frenchman is fast, aiming a heavy kick right at the woman's midsection, all of his weight and the weight of the plaster backing it. Ash doesn't really enjoy fighting the weak, nor does he want to bother with such a waste of time, but it could be that the other assassin is a real threat, and should that be the case, no mercy. Time to knock Eve out as quickly as possible, because he can't just think of himself. There's Shen, helpless Shen. He'll look smashing in baby pink satin.
COMBATSYS: Eve blocks Ash's Heavy Kick.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 0|-------|-------
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Eve 1/--=====/=======|
So were those guys the cause of this? Shen Woo pondered this from his place on what was not a throne and dressed in a hospital gown, not a ballroom gown. It had like... dots or something. His butt was cold. "Agh, fuck it!" he snarled, unhooking the last, least comfortable tether of them all. He shivered with discomfort, feeling near violated. The next time he got into a fight with one of those big, flashy guys, Shen Woo was going to... Okay, he was still just going to punch them, but he would punch them so much that they couldn't be so goddamn flashy! "Stupid, friggen weirdo and his dumb, stupid coat." snarled Shen Woo as he swung his legs over the edge and pushed himself off. Bare feet touched the ground and legs nearly buckled beneath him. A hand latched onto the IV stand and held him upright, the pole's broad footing allowing him to stagger and limp towards the other door in the room. He needed to wash his hands. Watewr still worked when the electricity was out, didn't it? Passing through the doorway into the small bathroom, Shen Woo went about finding out.
This is exactly how it felt : raw and wild energy flowing through her, charging up her body as she lets her chi overflows her she can hardly contain it. The electricity crackles around of her to the point it almost hurts her. Her brows furrow and she grits her teeth in a silence reply to his mocking expression.
Was that the best she could do?
She draws in more into her inner chi, manifesting as more electricity that charges up her body, her hair all spikey-up and floating over her head due to the overload of static electricity, waving idly back and forth.
There was only determination and resolve in her eyes. At every opportunity, she would try to take something away from her -- scorch him alive, electrocute him, inflict a world of suffering to him. That is what Nameless told her to do, and it became what she wanted to do. What she had to do.
Eve was ready for this, when Ash lunges at her, she intercepts the incoming kick with her arms to block it. She manages to protect her midsection, but the strength of Ash's kick is enough to knock Eve to the side, against the wall. While the wall prevents her from going further back, the wall made of gypsum doesn't resist the impact and cracks, leaving a more or less Eve-like mark shape in it.
Those two impacts make her whimper and squeal in surprise. It hurt -- a lot more than she could have expected, but she puts the pain aside. She had one job... One last job to pull off. She ignores the pain. She lifts her gaze up at him, that rictus still on her face. Underestimating her might be a dire mistake, hopefully one Ash will not live up to do twice.
Unlike him, she's not going to hold back any punches and she intends to give her all she has. She lets out a loud shout, her electricity bursting around her, letting the power surge through her, burning her own flesh and muscles, but she needed that extra power.
A ball of crackling electricity quickly grows in Eve's right hand and she moves both hands in front of her, unleashing a large arc of lightning toward Ash, followed with a loud thunderous clap. The lightning bolt arches slightly in what seems to be a random pattern, making it more unpredicable. Smaller bolts arc from the main lightning line, blasting parts of walls, decorations and other things on the nearby walls.
Pure, raw and wild chi in the form of lightning.
There is a sound outside Shen Woo's window.
Just outside the window, there is a shadowy form sitting outside Very carefully, the window begins to open. The teenager steps through the window. Landing on the ground, he rises up. The assassin looks across the room, eyes scanning for his target. He inspects the bed, running a gloved hand on the bedding. The teenager crouches down, twisting up a nose as he pokes the tubing.
A catheter.
Recently pulled out. His head perks up, listening to the sounds of the fight outside. Did he leave the room? Was he fighting Eve? Terror rushes through his heart, the thought of his companion being torn apart by two fighters...
He hears a noise in the bathroom.
The teenager rises up. He takes silent steps, walking towards the bathroom. The boy stands at the doorway. He does not say a word. Instead, he lifts his icy gloved hand up. And the glove begins to morph, shifting into a single, spindly spike.
He found his prey.
COMBATSYS: Ash fails to slow Lightning Bolt from Eve with Ventose.
. ' . + {-<> <8 Splendid Failure 8> <>-} + . ' .
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 0|-------|----===
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Eve 0/-------/--=====|
The faucet knob squeeks as Shen Woo twists it the other way, causing the flow of warm water from the tap to dwindle, slow, and then ultimately stop when the valve had been closed all of the way. Leaning his hip onto the counter, Shen awkwardly flicked and shook his hands free of the water that yet clung to them, flinging droplets into the sink, the counter around it, the mirror, and just generally everywhere. He finished the job with a towel, rubbing his hands as dry as he cared to before he just... before he just flung the hand towel aside and let it fall where ever it pleased. See that? That is why he needs Ash.
You know, beyond the fact that Ash is the sole person walking this earth that has the dubious honor of being numbered as Shen Woo's friend, his lone comrade and confidant.
The job done, Shen reached out and took hold of the IV stand once more, wheeling it around towards the door, slow, steady. The latch worked with a quiet click and swung inwards to a darkend room. Shen Woo's eyes met Whoever That Guy is', his features taking on a severely unamused set. He was wearing one of those coats.
He was wearing one of those-
Stupid.
Goddamn.
Coats.
Shen Woo's arm extended to out of sight beyond the door jamb, his fingers found something cool and smooth. It scraped quietly against the wood of the shelf that it had rested on as Shen pulled it away.
"FUCK YOUR COAT!"
The man bellowed and lunged, his arm whipping around, a white, metal object clutched in his hand and swung towards Someone's temple. He was weakend, yes, he was tired, yes, but even when weak, when tired, when standing at deaths door, a God of Battle is still a God of Battle. Shen Woo is still Shen Woo.
That kick was hard enough to break one bone or several, but alas. Even throwing the entirety of his weight behind the cast, the girl erects a quick defense and manages to fend him off. Sure, she is pushed back into the wall and leaves a sizable dent, but Ash doesn't feel any satisfaction from that.
He looks a touch ridiculous, nearly crashing into the doorframe as he finds his footing, dropping his broken leg to the ground. His arms are set akimbo, burned fingers wrapped tightly around his narrow pelvis. The Frenchman, with a jerk of the head, flips back his long platinum fringe. Numerous small cuts mark his attractive features, from his temple and down the side of his face to his jaw. See what your beloved leader did to Ash Crimson? And now you're picking a fight with him? Stay classy, NESTS.
The fair-haired man exudes arrogance from every pore, such is the flamewielder's curse. He doesn't make a habit of underestimating his opponents, but weakness... Ash can practically taste it, smell it in the air. It blinds him, and the cost is high. Eve rises with her whimpers and squeals, but bucking up soon enough to regain her bearings. An icy blue gaze follows her. She calls upon the energy she possesses, and the slender European... Crimson does the same.
Show-off. See those flames? Bubbling, burning, sickly and green, it falls from his hands in clumps and illuminates his freckled face. His eyes... turn scarlet. How? "Really, I have somewhere else to be, as entertaining as this is!" What will happen, when fire meets lightning? Ash wants to know, and then he's bent double. A horrible pain erupts along his right side and the flamewielder can't decide where his focus belongs, on old injuries or avoiding new ones? This moment, karma bites him right on the ass, figuratively speaking.
His chest feels tight, his eyes go wide. The slender European isn't right-handed, but that's the one he lifts to try and aim, strike down errant bolts, failing... Over and over. One nicks his freckled cheek, Ash flinching in surprise. His vision clouds over... This is nothing compared to what happens next...
WHAM! CRASH!
The door is flung from its hinges and thrown across the room. Chunks of plaster from the Frenchman's cast scatter in all different directions, exploding through the window and falling into the street below. Ash himself hits the edge of the bed, his back protesting with a nasty CRACK on impact. His head falls onto the covers, thin chest heaving with laboured breaths. The flamewielder clutches at his side, where one of his broken ribs may have just stabbed him in the lung, or at least given it a nasty little poke for funsies. "Ugh, hkk..." Crimson struggles to do more than lay there, half seated, like a marionette who had his strings cut-- movement. He sees it from the corner of his eye.
"Shen..."
Well, there is one benefit to being flung unceremoniously back into the brawler's hospital room... ASH HAS FOUND THE OTHER ASSASSIN. But, what the hell is it with the kid-sassins? Are they recruiting younger because all the older ones are demanding pay raises and benefits?-- fuck, the Frenchman must've hit his head. "SH..en..." Crimson is too breathless to yell, can't even warn the self-styled 'God of Hospital Gowns' what danger awaits him. It's so painful that stars explode in his vision, but the skinny, blonde-haired, pale-faced fighter hauls himself to his feet, clawing at the bed to do so, swaying on his busted cast, glaring balefully until interrupted with shock.
Is that... a bedpan?
Is Shen Woo swinging around a goddamn BEDPAN?
"Heh, looks like I'm all yours, cherie..." Ash drops down to sit on the edge of the bed and gestures at the girl who has no doubt followed him into the room and still happens to be sparking like a livewire. "Found your friend, too."
There was exactly one chance Ash had to avert Shen Woo's fate.
The teenage assassin was focused on Shen Woo. His back was turned away from Ash and Eve. If Ash had entered the room, and dove on the teenager, he would have been pulled away. While Shen Woo was weakened, he could have run. Ash would have been forced to fight both of the assassins, but with both engaged, the french man could have controlled them. Shen Woo's fate would have been averted. A lifetime could have happened, between Shen Woo, and the one man who he considered friend.
And what did Shen Woo's friend do with his one chance?
He used it to tease Eve.
There is a clattering sound as the bedpan is batted away. If Shen Woo was at full strength, Nameless would probably be sent staggering out of the bathroom. Even at a fraction of his strength, that bedpan -hurt-. If the teenager was not so focused on his goal, he might have been stunned by the sheer attempt. But those eyes were locked on the man. The boy would take no pleasure in what he had to do. It would be like killing the woman. The old man. These were all necessary for Ash to understand. To understand that you do not take a great man's life without consequence.
And it was time to teach Ash his lesson.
The boy does not react to the words. He casts away the cloak, almost dashing straight out of it. The black tatters slowly begin to fall to the floor. They do not reach the floor, by the time the assassin in on Shen Woo. He is so fast to reach him, but so slow, so delicate to place the spike right into the center of his chest. Right between the ribs, right towards the heart. If Shen Woo was at full strength, the response to the attempt would likely be the teenage boy getting his entire face punched into hamburger. Shen Woo was the God of Battle. But he was wounded. With surgical precision, he inserts the icy blade into Shen Woo's chest.
But it wouldn't stop there.
The ice would spread. Fragment. Tiny needles, driving through every corner of the man's chest, silently, subtly inside his body. Piercing through lung, through organ, through the soft flesh. Isolde was efficient. And the teenage boy would stare into Shen Woo's eyes, watching him wordlessly.
Until Shen Woo's fate was sealed.
The cloak finally reaches the ground into a crumple. It took only a moment. When the teenager steps out of the bathroom, steps out of the darkness, his icy-hand is held high, still holding on to Shen Woo. He looks dead across at Ash Crimson, upon the bed. His expression is blank. He does not say anything.
Ash had one chance.
And he lost it.
Perhaps Eve forearms had a fracture. Adrenaline allowed her to ignore the pain she felt in her arms and across her body, and the electricity she was forcing through her body made her body tingle all over.
Her lightning bolt has been very efficent. Perhaps too efficent as it sends Ash flying back into the room she was trying to distract him from. At least, it gives her the time to recover, but she can only hope she had been able to buy Nameless enough time to pull off their plan.
Eve rushes in after Ash, the adrenaline still pumping through her, but also out of anxiety. Her presence causes the fluorescent tubes to flicker, casting a dim-light in the room. That last bit of lightning she had discharged on Ash had left her drained from a part of her powers.
Eve arrives just in time to see Ash recovering on the edge of the bed. Though Ash was of no concern to her. Her lips curl into a wicked grin when she notices Nameless' silhouette out of the corner of her eyes. Everything was going according to plans, everything was perfect.
Her rictus covers her lips once more and Eve laughs, "You will /suffer/, Ash Crimson..." Eve says, her voice full of spite. "We will take from you... /Everything/. All your loved ones, making you endure a pain beyond what you've ever felt..."
She tilts her head to one side, almost amused at the thought as she says, "Until you'll wish you were dead, and only death will be able to soothe your suffering..."
The silent and focused Eve now was not so silent, returning the boasting at Ash, using her words not to taunt but to hurt with them if she can while she continues to charge up. Ash's death was not the only way to avenge their beloved leader... Making his life miserable was even more delightful.
"First Shen Woo," Eve says, "Then that woman Elizabeth..." Her smile widens as she tries to add more oil to the fire, "It's a pity your friends die so easily, or we might have some sense of satisfaction out of this..." She lets her words trail off, glancing over to Namless and Shen Woo, the electricity crackling around of her as she's slowly manifesting more electricity within her body.
The blade is sharp, so sharp. He doesn't even feel it break the skin, there is just cold. Bitter, biting cold like wind across a flat plain, nothing to stop or turn it away from sweeping right through you. Through muscle, through bone, through heart, through soul. It sweeps through him and lingers.
The bedpan is batted away, that's fine. Shen Woo still had his fists and that's all he ever needed. The arm, deflected, snaps back and a fist is balled at his ear. He might have enough for one punch, one, good, hard punch. All he'd need, all he'd want. Whatever the kid did, whatever that cold was, it wasn't enough, it was never enough to Stop him, the Mad Brawler, the Wild Bull of Shanghai. He'd barrel through it and break this bastard's face! His lips parted, a knife gash of a smile as he put all of his teeth on display and drew breath to spout something vulgar... only it's hard to talk when you your lungs are filling with blood. His body is wracked by a sudden cough. Crimson goes flying. Hot and thick, blood splatters across the assassin's face.
What?
His ire is snuffed like a candle, puzzlement roosts in it's place.
What?
His gaze drops and he sees the red stain that is blooming around the blade in his chest. So that's what that was. He'd been stabbed... But he'd been stabbed before. It was fine, he was fine. He just had to... he couldn't even breath. The man had ahold of him, Shen reached for a grip in kind, trying to anchor himself to the man while his other hand left the stand and drew back. It never happend, his legs had no steel to them, no bone or muscle to keep him upright. He slumped forward onto the man with the cold knives, trying to keep hold of him. Shen Woo just needed a moment, a moment to breath, to recoup. He'd be fine, he was always fine. This was a fight, he loved to fiught! He... he was getting so cold, his chest hurt, it was cold. Why did they have to put him in this stupid gown It made him cold!
His hands couldn't keep their grips, his fingers loosed and trailed down as his legs gave out. A body, heavy and meaty, slumps to the ground and then kilters over... Oh, there's Ash.
Ash. Shen Woo's eye linger on the blonde. Ash was here. Good. He tried to breath, tried to say something but only something wet and warm sputtered past his lips. He was cold, he was tired. It was alright... Ash was here. He had been here when Shen Woo woke up. He'll wipe the floor with these two and when Shen Woo woke up again, Ash would be there. Ash was a asshole but Ash would be there.
The tension in the brawler's neck slipped away, his eyes grew dim. All of the idiocy, the bravado, the madness and vulgarity that made up the man seeped out into a growing pool on the floor.
Wait...
Wait, no..! Stop!
How was he supposed to-- He thought that Shen...
Could defend himself? Was invincible? Would always be there?
Ash isn't fucking sure what he thought, but it was wrong.
His stomach seizes with dread, then ceases to exist. The beating of his heart, unevenly spaced and undecided on its speed, sounds as though it were coming from far away, like from his left foot. The moment that he taunts Eve is time that he should've spent seeking Shen, and Ash realizes this far too late. The Frenchman still tries to rectify the mistake, stumbling from the bed, limping terribly... No, no, no, no!
He can't move quickly enough, each breath burns him, and an eternity passes. Ash can't even cross half the room before he's forced to stop, spitting and choking up blood.
The girl saunters in, her words piercing him like a thousand blades, over and over again. Colour drains from his pale face, his expression grows slack. Oh no, Eve... Death will not ease his suffering.
Time will.
He can change this. He can fix this. He can bring them back... Those who have passed on, the souls wandering lost in the void, the deaths he is personally responsible for. Shen Woo.
For a moment, it looks like Ash himself is dead, but his eyes... The slender man's irises remain a deep, unfathomable scarlet. Perfect rows of white teeth draw upon his lower lip. He bites through the first layer, a fresh warm flood of copper invading his mouth, washing over his tongue, down his throat. Did they know that the flamewielder had thought his friend dead once before. He had thought that Igniz killed the self-styled 'God of Battle', that Shen had died so he could get the Sphere of Sparks... A noble sacrifice, one he could accept... But this is pointless. Meaningless. His back straightens, his gaze traveling. It settles... on the fallen form of Shen, having recent spilled out from the bathroom... Crimson doesn't want to watch.
But it would be disrespectful.
His only friend, Ash sees the very last of the brawler's life leaving him...
"I can't, I just can't..."
The Ash who never cared is locked away, the one who cannot apologize enough, and he is replaced with this. This thin form. This hate-filled entity. Elisabeth? He presses his palms into his eyes and his shoulders tremble. Could the Frenchman be crying, grieving, expressing some human emotion beyond contempt and apathy?
It goes on and on.
"Ahaha..."
His hands come away dry, his eyes are dry, and the flamewielder throws his head back and laughs. A howling laugh of pain and agony, but freedom. His head snaps to Eve, thin lips twisting, wearing a cold and sinister smile. "I've heard enough out of you, /MAGGOT/." Suddenly, he is gone. The air stirs feebly where Ash had been, shimmering and then done.
Where, what... No, there!
Materializing out of the dark, Ash wraps his delicate hand with its long fingers around the girl's neck. He can feel the blood, pulsing in her veins. Elation. Excitement. The tips of his fingers dig in, locking in place. It's like broken ribs, even his leg in a cast, no longer matter. Revealing a toothy grin, he has truly become Saiki's descendant in these moments. The slender French fighter pulls Eve from her feet and hoists her into the air, crushing her windpipe as he does so.
This, he wants to see. He watches with sick and unabashed fascination, wanting to capture the very moment the light flees from her eyes in the polaroid of his mind. Ash feeds off the pain, her struggle, any electrical charges seemed to strength his strangling grip. Bruises form quickly beneath his fingertips and he can't help but squeeze tighter. Melted nails of acid green bite harshly into flesh, into the smooth column of her neck. "Don't worry, this isn't the end..." With sadistic tenderness, Crimson brushes hair from Eve's purpling face, "All will be well."
"But, you won't take her from me, not in any life, not for one minute."
Whether she's gone or this is her final moment, he coldly snaps the girl's neck with his bare hands, dropping her broken body to the floor. Ash looks balefully down the length of his freckled nose, then digs the toe of his shoe under the girl who had once been host to Eve. Turning her over, all aggro is now on Nameless. This kid who has truly killed the 'God of Battle'. Drawing upon the ever-burning flame of his bloodline, great gouts of emerald flames begin to scorch the linoleum floors, the busted door. "I believe it's your turn, oui?" His words are punctuated by a soft, hissing giggle. That might make it even more disturbing than if he had just cackled... The Frenchman twists a strand of blonde hair between two fingers, red eyes gazing on. "I hope you reserved a special place in Hell." If he has his way, Nameless won't be able to come back, just like Igniz... The thin European is beyond reason, beyond the ability to care, set on the path of destruction, willing to become the devil, a murderer, truly evil... Any sacrifice to reset time. He'll damn his soul, no price is too great.
A few heartbeats is all the time that was needed for the flamewielder to snuff the life away from Eve just as easily as he would have blown out the flame of a candle.
As Ash vanishes from her sight, Eve hardly has the time to shift her stance to prepare herself. She can even react, Ash already reappears by her side, his hand getting a hold of her frail neck. A loud gasp of surprise escape Eve's throat, followed by whimpers as his fingers curl and around her throat and slowly crush her windpipe.
Eve's hands reach out rapidly and instinctively against Ash's arm to hold on to it, to try and pry him off, but he was like a wolf who had caught a doe, his fingers digging into her flesh and restraining her as she vainly struggles for her last breath, as the life slowly quits her.
Eve squirms and bucks, her eyes rolling back in the back of her head as she feels the keen pain in her neck. Ash lifts her up in the air until her feet no longer touch the ground, like she was a feather weight. Her voice is open wide, she tries to scream but no sound comes out of her throat aside from pathetic half-whispered whimpers. There was obvious fright in her eyes as she struggled for breath, her eyes reflecting the pain she felt from his fingers crushing her throat, but also digging painful into her tender flesh.
While Ash toys with her and talks to her softly, Eve can't help but wonder if this how it was meant to end? Was this how Misty imagined their mission would turn out? It comes to her as a shock, suddenly, that she won't be able to return and see Misty again and will have failed her in this most important mission...
All Eve wanted was to make her proud, to please her.
Tears well up in her eyes. She didn't want to disappoint her, to fail her! She didn't want to die!
Panic quickly overcomes the young girl, and she acts out of instinct to defend herself. She doesn't want to die. She doesn't want to fail Misty, to disappoint her. She had put so much hope in her and Nameless...
Her hands twist and tightens around Ash's forearm, and Eve's body sizzles with electricity. Raw and uncontrolled electricity arcs from her body, from her hands as she unleashes all the electricity that was built up inside of her from her arms, causing the fluorescent lights to shine brighter than before as she discharges herself. Many arcs of electricity dance from Eve to Ash, covering them in showers of sparks.
Even if she injuried herself in the process, even if she scorched herself, it was the only way she saw to free herself, to force him to release her.
Alas, her unfocused energy was easily deflected and absorbed by Ash's aura. His control over chi most likely allowed him to avoid any harm from this excessice discharge of energy. For a neophyte on the outside, it more or less appears like he just stood there and endured this without flinching, shaking it off like this power surge was nothing.
Eve was out of her league in every way, surpassed in the field she excelled the most.
Then it all stops. The loud thunderous noises from the electricity slowly fading away. There was an audible crack that came from Eve's neck, one that Ash only might have heard, or at least felt when he broke her like a toy. The girl's grasp over Ash's forearm slowly slips, her fingers loosening as her arms drop to her side and her body grows limp in Ash's hand. Just as the flow of electricity dissipated itself in thin air after than moment he felt the resistance in his hand snap, he was given the satisfaction to see the glint of life slowly fades from her gaze. Like the rest of her body, her eyelids slowly closed after her gaze becomes blank and empty, her head bending somewhat awkwardly.
When Ash lets go of her, her body crumbles to the ground. Ash's foot easily push her lifeless form aside. It all happened in the span of a few heartbeats, and now Eve was no more.
COMBATSYS: Eve can no longer fight.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 0|-------|----===
Ash was supposed to fear.
He was supposed to despair.
And in a way, he was doing exactly that.
The teenager boy drops Shen Woo, the body landing with a sickening thump on the hospital ground. It was a blur. The outburst was not unexpected. But as he disappears and reappears, it was all too fast. Not even K9999 at his worst was this feral. He was rushing after Ash, before the body even drops. For all his speed, however, the teenage was too slow. The dead body of Eve drops to the floor. He lost his opportunity to save his partner.
And now Ash was focused dead on the boy himself.
They had succeeded, both he and Eve. They had managed to make Ash understand the pain he had put through them, by killing Igniz. The agony he forced into their lives. He had been made to share their pain. The trouble was, they were both assassins, trained and conditioned to endure that pain. Ash was like a virgin, experiencing the truest loss for the very first time. And that first time hurts more than anything. The boy knew this. He had experienced. And as Eve's crushed form lays on the ground, he had realized something just as important.
It was a mistake to be Ash's first time.
The boy snaps his reaction, lashing out in a snap. His icy-gloved hand morphs into a drill, swirling and twirling into a sharp point. Thrusting it straight for Ash, he attempting to dive on him. The Frenchman was at peak condition. He was enraged. This would not be like killing Shen Woo. There was no guarantee that the teenager would leave this alive. But that was unimportant for the boy. He would always return. And above all. The core of the mission was successful.
Ash had learned true misery.
COMBATSYS: Nameless has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 0|-------|----===
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Nameless
COMBATSYS: Ash blocks Nameless' Yukikaze.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 0|-------|---====
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Nameless
Their success is paramount. The slender, pale-haired man is the epitome of despair...
But Nameless, in his careful planning and developing their stratagem, forgot to take one very essential thing into account: He doesn't know Ash. No one does. The only person who could've guessed at the future now lays in a pool of blood, a lifeless corpse...
Ash does not wallow in his sorrow. He does not reach for Shen or even acknowledge the presence of his friend's body a second time. Crimson takes his despair and twists it, allowing it not just to break him but recreate him anew. His inhibitions are gone, there's no longer any moral dilemma, no question of whether it is right or wrong to kill. It is true freedom, so he walks the path of chaotic neutral in all ways, a law unto his own, and cheerful madness follows him. Can he fall further?
Yes.
Try threatening Elisabeth more, you'll see.
The French sociopath, having just broken Eve, now stands before the remaining NESTS assassin. Green flames slither and writhe, winding around his thin form. His arms are wreathed in the same glowing conflagration. Ash watches the transformation of glove into drill impassively, noting the spike in energy while venting a breath through his nose in a snort. His nostrils flare gently. "Is that all?" Lips peel back from white teeth. The flamewielder's broad slash of a mouth wears the most shit-eating of grins.
Nameless, child with no real identity, dives in at him. The crimson-eyed gaze follows the arc of the drill. So is this what the boy used to kill Shen Woo? His glove? A wall appears in front of the Frenchman, Ash standing just inches away. He is largely unharmed, aside from grunting in effort, his leg paining him. "Mon ami, let me tell you what I love most about ice..." A brilliant flare of chi, blinding emerald, and he reaches through it, seeking to gather the front of the kid's top in his fist.
"It melts." His eerie giggle is distorted by flames, "It burns, just like everything else."
If what's-his-name wasn't quick enough to escape, let Ash Crimson show you exactly what he means. The inferno is sucked inwards, as if pulled towards the hose of a vacuum. He gathers it into his free hand and attempts to plant the bubbling mass directly on the teen's face. "Scream." The thin European orders him. An explosion occurs just then, flashy but brutal. There is no restraint. Hopefully the room next door has been evacuated, or it stands empty.
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Nameless with Brumaire.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 1|-------|=======
> ////////////////////// ]
|====---\-------\0 Nameless
The boy did not need an identity.
The only purpose he needed a mission from NESTS.
The drill is swiftly melted back, the roaring hot emerald flames devouring the drill. The boy loses his footing just as quickly, sucked into the pyre. The glove surges with power, coating the teenager with a sheen of ice. Clouds of steam fill the hallway, as the glove unleashes as much strength as it could, fighting to protect its wearer. Standing amongst the flames, the boy stares directly at Ash.
He does not scream.
The teenager was defiant, refusing to back down. Body roasting, he tenses his body, gritting his teeth. The explosion finally comes, knocking the boy straight into a wall... and through it. Collapsing into a tumble, he rolls back upright, staggering from the bathroom. His foot rests on something. Looking down, he finds himself above the corpse of Shen Woo. His expression is neutral, as he takes his right hand, rubbing his glove firmly.
And like that, the boy jerks off his glove.
Crimson flame burst up, ripping along his exposed hand. Shaking his hand swiftly, the raging embers cascade on the cold body of Ash's only true friend. The body begins to smoke and smolder, beginning the journey from Ash... to ash.
But this was not to destroy a worthless body.
This was for Ash.
Building the crimson flame into a raging inferno, he follows up the true verdent flames with the stolen powers of Kusanagi. The fire was nearly impossible to control, and swiftly, the boy was losing control. With a heave, he lunges at Ash, hurling a massive wave of the impossibly hot fire straight towards him...
Before desperately replacing the frozen glove upon his hand, smothering the fire.
COMBATSYS: Nameless successfully hits Ash with Sawarabe.
[ ||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 1|---====|=======
> ////////////////////// ]
|=====--\-------\0 Nameless
Oho, so the child is strong, stronger than he thought. That sort of discipline comes from years of training... or torture. Ash is willing to bet it was the latter, not the former.
Still, he is disappointed that a scream of agony was not ripped from the lips of Nameless as he soars in an arc towards the wall, smashing through it. Chunks of drywall break off and hit the floor, chalking up the linoleum. Crimson, more and more aware of the weight he places on his broken limb, chooses to hold his ground here in Shen's room instead of diving after the teen in pursuit. Adrenaline continues to pump through his veins, but it does not make the flamewielder ignorant of his injuries.
He snuffs out the remainder of his strange flames, smoky tendrils crawling lazily upwards. Brushing strands of platinum blonde away from his face, both eyes are visible for just a short period of time, and he squints, spotting the young assassin who stumbles out from the bathroom in the dark. Nameless places his foot on Shen's corpse, perhaps accidentally. Ash stiffens, his back impossibly straight. "Don't you dare..." He threatens the boy, but it is for naught.
Nameless removes the glove from his hand and sets FIRE to the body, cremating Shen there on the spot. The part of Ash that he had denied, the one deeply disturbed by this, claws its way back to the forefront of his mind. His expression is horror-struck. The Frenchman cups his hand to his mouth and swallows thickly, Adam's Apple bobbing in protest. Bile. Another wave of nausea is similarly fought back, and then the smell of burning flesh hits him.
The lithe fighter rocks back a step, as if to stop the scent and sight from enveloping his senses, scarlet eyes impossibly wide. A raging hell of fire forms, but he can't tear his gaze away from his friend, burning down to ash and embers. Ash doesn't react even when the massive wave is hurled at him, not until he is in the midst of it and suddenly begins to realize that this feels... familiar. "Kusanagi..?" He shields himself to the best of his ability, covering his face to protect it. The plaster of his cast melts, searing the skin beneath it. This pain is almost more than he is capable of enduring, but... "You think that's enough?!" Ah, rage, it returns.
It returns with a vengeance, boiling over. That's it, no more!
Green consumes red, verdant overpowers crimson. What was once a blaze is now reduced to cinders, heat and smoke wafting off his slender form. Ash rises to his full and admittedly unimpressive height, his flaxen hair singed at the tips, scowling fiercely. "Useless! You're never going to avenge that bastard, because if he couldn't beat me, what chance does an insignificant bug like you have?!" Each breath is a laborious task, his cracked ribs doing much to hinder every deep inhalation. As much as he wishes to curl in on himself, no.
This kid can withstand the pain, and so can Ash.
For the moment, he does not act. All of his energy is required just to remain standing...
The teenager was powerful, there was no doubt of that.
With the glove back over his hand, the roar of energy is suppressed. But the initial wave still crackles, still burns. A fire quickly breaks out in the hospital, illuminating the pair within the darkness. Staring down at the ground, the boy slowly looks back up, his stoic face flashing between flickers of the flame. He casts a glance aside, to the
"You are feeling loss."
"Lost love is a powerful feeling. I have that fear every day." He says flatly, the glove's morphing across the teenager's arm. Infusing it with an icy shell, he stares through the shadows. "I always fear that I won't be strong enough to protect the ones I love. That all it will take is a moment of weakness, to lose everything I love. That moment came, when you killed him, Ash. You killed my savior, you killed my Igniz. And you know what I could do?"
"Nothing."
"I could do nothing to protect him,the most important person in m-" The teenager pauses. "Someone who could have saved me. Who could have saved her. Someone who had the power to free me from all this. And you took him away." He grabs his glove, the icy shell withdrawing from his arm. "And it was nothing to you. Just like what you did to my partner. You treat life so cheaply, Ash Crimson. She did not teach you to be value life."
"But we will."
"Elisabeth Blanctorche. Countless of assassins are on the move. And you won't be there for her. It doesn't even matter. You can't even protect your friends when you are here." The teenager pulls off the glove again, another surge of the crimson flame roaring forth from the boy's hand. Gritting his teeth, he glares at Ash Crimson through the flickering light.
"She will die, Ash Crimson."
Nameless believes that Ash Crimson does not value life? Is he a fool? Just because the fair-haired flamewielder cruelly murdered Eve, just because he put an end to Igniz, hell-bent on subjugating the entire world, that means he treats such things with callous disregard?
Feh, I say.
It is only because Ash treats life with great reverence that he (inadvertantly) killed a 'God', don't you see? How many people would've died had he taken control of the planet? The girl who lays broken and still had to die because he will, no matter what the cost, protect Elisabeth. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.
Of course, explaining this would be an entirely pointless endeavour, so using the side of his cheek for damage control, the Frenchman bites back all of his protests, tasting bitter copper once again. He weathers the entire barrage, the pain of another and even his own. Yes, it is loss. To say that Ash loved Shen Woo is a bit of a stretch -- he certainly liked the brawler, enjoyed his friend's company, thought of him as useful... Maybe it was, a kind of brotherly love. It's enough that he feels justified in ripping Nameless to shreds in revenge, because of the value he had for the self-styled 'God of Battle'. For Shen's life. D'awwwwww.
He is as still as a statue, his freckled face looking gaunt in the light of the flames. Does it matter to him that the entire building could burn to the ground? Not when the teen sees fit to threaten Elisabeth's well-being. Briefly, Ash's thoughts drift to his mother, to his long buried past. Did you know that she drowned? As a child, Crimson was terrified of water. He never learned to swim. The Blanctorche family raised him in her stead, Elisabeth is like a sister to him... Goddammit, as much as the carefree, arrogant man would rather not admit it, even to himself, she is all and everything. His entire world. "Mon dieu." These people will never learn, it is in their best interest to leave the people he cares about alone.
"You're right, it was nothing to me." Ash snaps coldly, scarlet eyes lifting to the boy's face, "Not the life of your partner nor your leader."
"But here's where you're wrong, mon ami. I may have failed Shen Woo, and that is a regrettable mistake, but I will kill each and every single 'assassin' that would dare lay a hand on her. Don't preach the value of life to me when you're just the same, just as despicable." He gestures to the kid, then sweeps back strands of platinum blonde, tucking them out of sight. Head tilting, Ash glares down the length of his freckled nose, sneering faintly, "If that bastard was the only person who could set you free..."
"THEN ALLOW ME TO SEND YOU TO HIM!"
Ash disintegrates into harmless green bubbles and wisps of verdant chi. There is barely enough time to count quickly to ten, to draw breath. When he reappears, semitransparent like a sort of phantom, the flamewielder glides forwards, passing directly through Nameless. He skids to a halt on the ground on the other side. Another hunk of plaster breaks away from his cast, revealing a badly charred and bruised leg. Blisters mark his pale skin in a nasty way. Atoms and energy catch up to him, Crimson solidifies. Smirking, his hands are brought together in a harsh clap that rends the still air asunder. A flurry of bubbles erupt where he had been only moments ago, swelling like some poor imitation of a balloon and then burst.
The hospital room is filled a crescendo of thunderous bangs as each explosion occurs, fiery innards spat in all directions. Closer and closer, if Nameless is still in the way, maybe he should move, because the volleys seem endless and appear in rapid succession. The bubbles grow larger in circumference; when they overlap, they violently detonate, shattering noisily until the sounds are one long deafening note. Ash slumps forwards, a fist to the linoleum, wheezing, sweat on his brow. His shoulders tremble, exhaustion and pain threaten to overwhelm him... But
The hospital room is filled with a crescendo of thunderous booms as each explosion occurs, fiery innards and weird bubbles spat everywhere. Closer and closer, if Nameless is still in the way, maybe he should move, because the volleys seem endless and appear in rapid succession. The bubbles grow larger in circumference; when they overlap, they violently detonate, shattering noisily until the sound blends together into a note that might last forever, or that could be the ringing in the ear that it leaves behind. Ash slumps forwards, a fist to the linoleum, wheezing, sweat on his brow. His shoulders tremble, exhaustion and pain threaten to overwhelm him... But he won't stop until the assassin is nothing more than a smear on the wall. Clearly no one around here understands that multiple wrongs do not make a right. This entire scene is sadness...
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Nameless with #Germinal#.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
[ ||||||||||||||| ]
Ash 0|-------|-------
> /////////// ]
|=======\=------\1 Nameless
What was driving this boy.
As his exposed hand begins to boil with the fiercesome bloodline energy that filled him, he just stares down the Frenchman that he had the responsibility to slay. In his mind, Ash was the villain. A fey, flighty monster, with the maturity of his brother K999, that was completely devoid of empathy. He did not see how killing Igniz would help anyone in the world. Just like how he saw that killing Eve was not even a matter of justified self-defense.
Because he believed he was a hero.
A hero who had to murder a young lady and her dying grandfather, in order to protect what was right in the world. A hero who had to challenge a god of war, and die to him. And hero that had brought so much death and misery to the world, and suffered so much death and misery. And what was worth it to him?
To bring paradise to the world.
And stand beside Isolde, to enjoy it with her.
As the man fades, he just stands his ground, letting the pyre build and build. But when the rematerializes, he doesn't even have time to react. The blast consumes the entire hallway, nearly the whole of the building. Windows explode. Not even the boy can stand against the onslaught, as he is sent hurtling through wall and wall, blown away. Without his glove on, the full force catches harshly, searing his body with fiercesome, frightening power.
But the teenager refuses to fall.
The sign of life was subtle, underneath the pile of broken drywall and medical equipment. It was the light, the fiery light that was building brighter and brighter. The teenager breaks through the heap, arm ablaze with the Kusanagi flame. He was bleeding and bruised, his other arm coated in blooded. Hurling out choking breathes, he looks around, confused. And then, with horror.
He did not have his glove anymore.
He scrambles, desperate. Palming around wildly, his face contorts with pain, as his arms continues to burn hotter and hotter. It was no longer contained at the hand, but spreading up the arm, towards the chest. Pausing a moment, he gives a pained groan, gritting his teeth. The fires recoil just a little bit, the power restrained just enough to keep the flames from spreading lethally to his chest. Searching in the aftermath, he finally spies the quicksilver glove. Limping towards he, he reaches out with his un-burning hand, to retrieve it. And once he has it, he will turn around.
And finish the job he has started.
Hey now, don't go comparing the Frenchman to K9999, that's just rude. While he may not have felt the slightest twinge of empathy for the boy's plight, Ash is not some hideous monstrosity of human genetics, a murderer by design, nor does he have lard-arm.
Yeah, you heard me right. Lard-arm.
Ash clutches at a stitch in his ribs, feeling through the material of his shirt the layers of bandages that are in dire need of being rewrapped. He exhales and attempts to straighten gingerly, but the pain is too much, if only for a moment. The so-called 'hero' won't be getting up anytime soon, so it's not as though the flamewielder is in any sort of hurry...
At least, that's what he thought. Nameless had been covered in rubble, but the NESTS assassin bursts free of his plaster and drywall prison. Shards of glass and broken bits of equipment even manage to reach Ash, kneeling so far away. How many walls was it? A frown works its way across the freckle-faced fighter's lips. His eyesight is superb, but in the dark, the inky blackness pressing in on his vision, he cannot tell. In fact, the only way he knew the teen had risen at all was entirely due to the sound.
And flames, but those are viewed from a distance, barely registering to him at first.
Watching fire wreath the young man's arm and crawl towards his chest, Ash discerns distress from the boy's movements. It is apparent that control over the stolen flames of Kusanagi is slowly slipping away. An opportunity presents itself. This could be his last chance to decisively end this fight, to strike Nameless down for the final time. How he stands even now seems impossible to the Frenchman -- he must be truly dedicated to his mission...
Meh, sucks to be him!
The slender man hauls himself to his one good leg, wobbling at first, but eventually regaining his balance. He brushes dust and bits of glass from his clothing. Casually glancing around at all the ruination, the two lives it has claimed thus far, he knits his brows grimly, limping forwards. More of his cast hits the floor with a dull thud, and speaking of things that have fallen, a glint of silver catches his attention and how the teen seems desperate to reach it. "Non non non, that won't do." Ash speaks with a condescending tone, tut-tutting gently and recalling that this was the source of ice, the glove. It became the drill that had killed his friend. He'll put a quick end to that.
How he reaches the powered object first, he must have used the Yata Mirror. It pains him to do so, his ribs mustering great protest to each movement, but Ash lifts his broken limb and stomps directly on the glove. The weight of plaster and his own slender form come crunching down. Beneath him, at first it seems as though Isolde might survive, but a crack forms along the metal, and the more pressure that is applied, it gives way to a clean break. Hands resting akimbo on his hips, the icy gauntlet is set on fire. The intensity of his emerald flames is enough to melt even silver.
Lifting his head, the Frenchman smirks all over his pale freckled face. "You're a little too old for toys, mon ami."
He doesn't know the significance of the glove, and what horrible tragedy he has just wrought in the name of revenge... But, Ash doesn't particularly care.
No.
He couldn't.
These were the thoughts that ran through the assassin's head as the foot comes down. The glove reacts, morphing, lashing out like a beetle under the boot. It would take more than that to crush the glove. But when the flames comes... the boy cannot look away. There is a hissing sound as the glove is melted away, almost like a scream. The teenager's jaw is slack, as the fire begins to burst from his skin.
"What have you -done?!-"
It was a scream. A cry. The teenager throws himself to his knees, reaching out with both blazing and unburned hand. He runs his fingers through the melted remains of the glove of Isolde. For everything he had done, for every sacrifice he was willing to make, he never saw the one thing that could be sacrificed in all his folly.
Tears.
Tears rush down his cheeks, bursting into hisses of steam as great, heaving sobs come the boy. "Isolde..." He stammers, whimpering desperately as the bloodline flame spreads to his shoulders, eating away at his body. He couldn't control it anymore. He wouldn't control it. Like that, the resolve is snuffed out. Everything worth living for, everything worth working for, had gone up in steam. He had experienced loss a second time.
The greatest loss.
The nameless teenager continues to burn, the fires slowly consuming him. He doesn't resist. He simply hovers over the remains of the glove, trying to scoop it up, trying to rescue any remains. "What have you... done...." He gasps between sobs. The sobbing soon dies down, as the hunched form of the nameless assassin collapses. The Kusanagi flames required an iron will to control, and an unbreakable resolve for life.
Ash Crimson had broken that will.
J Prime, the Nameless Assassin, finds his life extinguished, as his stolen flames consume him.
He dies alone and forgotten.
Log created on 14:49:38 10/18/2014 by GLaDOS, and last modified on 19:01:21 10/25/2014.